Black Sun

by iridissection

Summary:

Luka was born with sunlight and honey coursing through her veins, magic that was thought to be extinct since the times when the goddess Lily walked the earth.
It was killing her.

Due to an accident, she is forced to go to the castle of Duke Gakupo Kamui, who is rumored to be the bearer of an ancient course with the power to bring ruin to the entire kingdom, and everything that Luka holds dear. But he is also the only person who can help her.

Chapter 1: The bees followed

Notes:

Is this a dying fandom? You might say so. Am I probably the only person obsessed with GakuLuka in the year of our lord 2021? Probably. Is that going to stop me from writing a whole ass self-indulgent multi-chapter fanfic with extremely niche tropes and headcanons that will get like two kudos max? Absolutely fucking not.

Wherever it was Luka went, the bees followed.

Since her earliest childhood, her life was its constant humming in her ears, when she did magic, when she sang, when, like in that moment, she tossed and turned in bed trying to fall asleep.

Rain pounded on windows and roofs, which would at least keep the bugs at bay for a couple of hours. At the moment, there were only a few wandering around on her skin.

Luka raised her hand to watch the bee crawling around her fingers, flapping antennae and wings as if seeking nectar from a flower.

Luka tilted her head, hesitant. She could feel in her chest that unnatural agitation that kept her from closing her eyes for long, as if she had drunk too many cups of coffee.

In spite of her better judgement, she decided to indulge it.

Naturally, she did not produce pollen, but she could do something similar. Luka took a deep breath and allowed herself to give in a little to the tension that had been building up in her body through the day, the whole week, the last months, an entire lifetime.

A ribbon of golden light bloomed from Luka’s palm, dimly lighting up the angles of her face and dark room. The bee took off from her skin to fly around until its body was covered in a shimmering golden dust. Once satisfied, it landed on her collarbone, and Luka forced herself to extinguish the magic with a flick of her wrist.

Whatever it was about her magic that attracted the bees so much, Luka didn’t know, but as was often the case with her powers, it couldn’t be anything good.

But the bee was satisfied, and Luka’s eyelids were, for once, heavy.

She turned in bed again, careful not to squash any insect, and closed her eyes.

She didn’t care, not in the middle of the night, not when she would kill to be able to sleep for a couple of hours. She would deal with the consequences of her actions in the morning, that was what she told herself each time she saw the setting sun through her window, fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white.

That was how she coped with her daily life, when each day was but another link in the heavy chain she dragged behind her and the future was a blurry and uncertain horizon that offered her nothing more than the same old routine until she couldn’t bear it anymore and…

Until she couldn’t bear it anymore and…

In spite of everything, she took a sort of comfort among the darkness, especially in her room, when all that surrounded her were the familiar shadows of the furniture she had known all her life and a break from the blinding sunlight that always shone down in her small town. Her only solace at the end of each day.

Luka shook her head, sad thoughts were usually the only thing occupying her mind, so she focused on the rhythmical tap of the water droplets on her window pane to keep them at bay.

It didn’t take her long to fall asleep.

 

---

 

The first thing that Luka noticed were the sun rays on her eyes that had woken her up, she groaned and covered her face with the pillow she had been hugging against her chest. The second thing she noticed was the absence of the familiar tingling in her skin.

Luka forced herself to sit up and to open her eyes, the curtains were drawn and the window firmly closed.

Her mother must have gotten rid of the bees, again. She sometimes did that when she wanted something to occupy her mind with, no matter how many times Luka insisted it was pointless. She still would make the effort to untangle them from her hair, reach under her clothes and pockets to catch the most elusive ones, trap them inside glasses, and, in a particularly traumatizing occasion, wrap them in handkerchiefs and squash them.

She always looked at them with disgust, and Luka doubted it really had anything to do with the insects themselves.

Still, the change wasn’t unpleasant, at least she would be able to move around for a while without worrying about ending up with a stinger buried in her skin.

Luka reached down to pick up a white shirt lying on the ground, dressed up lazily and put on her worn leather boots. She felt a little more awake when she washed her face, but had to take a deep breath as she took her brush.

The girl combing her hair in the mirror had a heart-shaped face, skin so smooth that she looked more like a porcelain doll than a person made of flesh and blood. She had too-pink and too-long bright hair that already reached down to her waist even though she had it cut just a few weeks before, her nails were starting to get in the way, too.

Luka tried to smile, her reflection only gave her back an awkward, half-hearted gesture. She sighed and set the brush aside.

She walked out of her room, and though her stomach growled, she forced herself to stop when she was in front of her mother's room. She knocked on the door and opened it when she heard a soft hum from inside.

“Good morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, Luka,” said Chika automatically.

She was sitting on her bed, as if she hadn’t gotten up yet. Her pink and lusterless hair, a few shades duller than Luka’s, fell down her shoulders, instead of the buns she usually tied it up in.

“Are you having breakfast?”

“Maybe later,” she said after a moment of silence, like pondering her answer.

Chika did not move. Sometimes she did that, sitting still for hours on end looking at something in particular. Most of the time it was one of Luka’s belongings, an old dress or her closet, sometimes she would look at one of the Kiyoteru’s portraits hanging around the house; all while stroking her wedding band with her fingertips, the gesture had become so ingrained that Luka thought she didn’t even notice it when she did it.

“I see. See you later, Mom.”

“Is everything alright?”

The question took Luka by surprise, she bit her lip.

“Uh, yes, as well as I can be, I guess.”

A few seconds passed before Chika nodded, almost satisfied, but Luka caught the glimpse of that sorrowful expression on her face she had every time she really looked at her and not glanced over her.
But she said nothing. So neither did Luka.

She turned around, turned the doorknob and left. When she was out of the room, she leaned against the door and sighed. She hated to admit it, but it felt like taking a weight off her shoulders. She continued downstairs.

Luka stopped halfway across the living room to look up at the enormous portrait in front of her. The man in the painting had chestnut-colored hair and warm eyes of the same color behind square glasses; coincidentally, he was Luka's father.

The rest of her family had loved him dearly, for them, he was a hero and martyr who was unjustly taken away from them. He was rarely spoken of, always in melancholic and distant tones, but also so full of love.

He died before Luka was born, and had it not been for the fact that her brother had been named after him, she doubted she would even remember it at all.

For her, the gentle soul who had rescued her mother when she was at her lowest was nothing more than a stranger on the wall, judging her with clever eyes. His story no more than a legend created by mourners who perhaps remembered him as more admirable than he actually was.

She was snapped out of her trance by the voices of the only ounce of normalcy in her life. Kyo and Kokone were already up. She hurried across the room and into the kitchen.

Her sister was watering the numerous flower pots hanging on the walls and window sills. With graceful hand movements, she directed the water as if it was an extension of her own body, not even having to look at Luka to dodge it when she got in the way of the water and her treasured camellias.

Kyo didn't really need to use his magic on a daily basis except for lighting stoves or heating things up, but he never missed an opportunity to show off, occupying two dining room chairs, he summoned flames that licked his fingers while he popped toast into his mouth with his other hand. Luka feared he would set the tablecloth on fire or, worse, the rest of the breakfast.

“Good morning, morons.”

“Morning? The sun’s about to set,” her sister was still too busy with her task to even look at her.

“Well-mannered as always, aren’t you?” said Kyo.

“I learned it from you”

“No, no, you misunderstood,” said Kokone. “Kyo was supposed to be the bad example, you weren’t supposed to imitate him.”

“Oh, and I guess you are the good example.”

Kokone tossed her hair over her shoulder. Kyo threw a napkin at her.

Luka suppressed her laughter into a small smile. Her gaze returned to the table, on which sat a plate of scrambled eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice, bread and butter, her stomach growled.

She walked to a chair, but before she could approach it, Kokone stepped across her path to open a cupboard. Their shoulders brushed.

In the ample kitchen, where sunlight filtered through pale curtains and breakfast sizzled on an old pan, nothing happened. Kyo bit his thumbnail and Kokone decided she was done watering the plants, and let the remaining water fall inside a nearby pitcher as she hummed a popular song.

But Luka was frozen in place. She had felt it, the magic that coursed through her sister’s veins like the rapids of a river, it lingered in the jar, in the wet earth, even inside the very petals and leaves.

The water called to her, awakened a never quite dormant power that pulsed through her body, urged her to stop resisting and unleash a storm, a flood, an entire hurricane.

“Luka?”

The faucet dripped.

“Luka,” repeated Kyo, louder this time.

Her breathing heavier, Luka spun on her heel to walk to another cabinet at the end of the corridor. This one was made of ebony wood, and instead of fine porcelain, it displayed various vials. The shapes, as well as the sizes and contents, varied; one contained vibrant orange dried flowers, but most were liquids and powders.

Luka opened it to reach for a vial half-filled with a pale blue fluid, the scent was strong. The label read in neat calligraphy “ Navoran ”.

She knew that feeling inside her chest, the moment just before a million fireworks went off.

“Luka, stop.”

“You promised you wouldn’t do this anymore.”

In any other circumstance, Kokone’s words may have hurt, but not this time.

She threw her head back and drank the entire bottle, ignoring the bitter taste and burning sensation it left in her throat. In theory, she should have diluted a much more meager amount in a cup of hot water with honey, but small doses had long since ceased to have any effect.

It was no secret why no more than a couple of spoonfuls were administered at a time, the effects nearly knocked her down, but she managed to rest her forehead and hands against the cool glass.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine… Ten.

Seven seconds used to be enough for the drug to work, a few years ago it was only five. Luka dared open her eyes, hands shaking, and even though her breath had fogged the glass, she could still see the disappointed and concerned faces of her siblings in it. But the call of the water had decreased to the soft murmur she was accustomed to, so it was alright. She wasn’t hungry anymore.

She took a deep breath to regain her composure and turned around to confront her family, lifting her chin up.

“Well, there go three weeks, four days, and approximately ten hours clean,” said Kyo without a hint of humor in his voice.

“Next time I’ll make sure to pierce your stupid stomach with a stalactite,” Luka struggled to spit out the words through gritted teeth.

She couldn’t focus her gaze. While Kokone looked horrified, Kyo didn’t even flinch.

“Keep going like this and you’ll die of an overdose before you can pierce anyone’s stomach.”

“And what do you suggest I do?!”

“Goddess, I don’t know, but not this !” Kyo burst out, extending his arms towards her.

“There must be another way,” said Kokone in a low voice, probably to keep them from murdering each other.

“There’s no other way,” said Luka, still infuriated, but her voice gave away more sadness than what she would have wanted.

She started walking.

“Luka, wait.”

She made her way between them, before they could reach her and stop her, she extended her arms to summon a gust of wind. Her intention had been just to knock them off their balance, but the blow pushed them backwards and, like several vases and portraits hanging on the walls, they fell to the floor.

She grabbed a cloak from the coat rack and left the house, ignoring the voices shouting out her name, at least they were sensible enough not to chase after her. She didn't cry, it would only make things worse.

The garden was big, almost completely covered by flowers, bushes, and vines, everything Luka’s doing. It was a more or less harmless way to unleash her magic, besides, they were never short of seasonal fruit, and the leafy trees served to hide from the sight of intruding eyes.

She didn’t bother to look towards the main gate, where she knew she would find a crowd of people kneeling, tying gold ribbons and flowers to the steel bars that surrounded her house. Prayers in both murmurs and shouts found their way to her room, praising the Goddess, praising her.

She gave silent thanks to the stoic guards her mother had hired. Had it not been for them, she had no doubt that people would have long since climbed the gate to get into her room and…

She didn’t want to imagine it, so she pulled her hood up. From the scent of vanilla perfume, she knew it was Kokone's. She raised her fingers to her chest where, held by a pin, was a golden sun, Lily's emblem and, therefore, hers. Thanks to it, they could pass unnoticed in crowds.

But she was no chosen saint of the Goddess, she hated to be considered as such, disgusted by the mere thought of it. If Lily truly was the cause of her magic, then she had certainly meant to curse her. They were no gift, much less a prophecy or the proof she was her true daughter, or whatever people imagined it to be.

She slipped through statues and fountains until she reached a small secret exit she had created herself when she was about thirteen years old. It had taken her ages to melt the bars without the grass around her catching fire. It overlooked a grove of trees, perfect for getting in and out unnoticed.

Whether her siblings knew about it, Luka wasn't sure, but since she rarely used it, no one had reason to suspect anything, besides, she took pride on how well it was camouflaged among bushes and rocks.

She knelt down to crawl through the narrow hole, though it wasn't as easy as when she was a child. Once on the other side, she got up and shook the dirt and leaves off her clothes. Then she faced the guards who were always guarding that part of the fence.

By Chika's orders, they weren't even allowed to speak to Luka, but she noticed the gleam in their eyes whenever they saw flowers sprouting under her bare feet, or the way her skin glowed in the sunlight. Some hid it better than others.

In theory, Luka shouldn't talk to them either, but she had asked them not to tell her family about her leaving the house. She couldn't know for sure if the sweet smiles were unnecessary, but judging by the lack of comment from her mother, they had kept their part of their silent promise to her, which was far more than Luka could ask for, it made her feel guilty for not even knowing their names.

She ignored them as she passed them by, they too pretended she wasn't there.

She made sure her hair and face were well hidden and continued on her way, making sure to step on the rocks so as not to dirty her shoes. She gave her house one last glance before moving on, she shouldn't be outside, but she couldn’t bear the thought of returning, either. For once in her life, she would like to get a couple of miles away, pretend she had nothing to leave behind or nothing ahead of her to be afraid of.

She'd love to go to the city of a faraway kingdom, where no one knew about her and she didn't have to sneak around in the shadows. Make friends to get drunk with, lift her skirts and get into strangers' carriages, enter to a luxurious store and try on dresses she'd never get the chance to wear even if she could buy them, haggle over the price of spiced wine or whatever else was done in markets. She had gone a couple of times when she was little, the rest she had learned from books and what Kyo and Kokone told her about them.

The memory of her siblings made reality hit her like a ton of bricks. Of course she had to go back, no matter how much she dreaded it, and when she did, she wouldn't be surprised to find the medicine cabinet empty, or at least locked with the biggest padlock in the house.

Deep down, Luka understood their good intentions, and even worse, that they were right: she was dizzy, her lips and throat still burned. She knew well that the day would come when she would pass out from drinking so many bottles of Navoran before suppressing her ever-growing magic, but until then she wasn't willing to burst into deadly sunlight. Not again.

She didn't notice that her hands were still balled into fists until she felt a sharp pain in her palm, she opened it and saw that she was still clutching tightly to the empty vial, which was sticky with honey. She sighed and put it in her pocket after rubbing her hand against her pants. At this rate the bees would soon notice her presence and start stirring up, and the last thing she was looking for was to draw attention.

She’d taken her eyes off the road for too long. Luka grimaced as her foot sank into a mud puddle.

“This can’t be happening.”

She lifted her leg to analyze the mess, it was full of mud up to her ankle. Then she watched as the drops of water, almost as if of their own will, slid down her boot until they fell back to the ground, leaving behind only a thin layer of dirt on the worn leather.

She hadn't even lifted a finger.

Luka was no longer surprised that her powers would manifest no matter how hard she tried to suppress them, but that, what had happened with Kokone, was new. She had always been able to notice the magic around her―the skill of her sister controlling water, the vivacity of fire crackling at her brother's hands―but getting close to her had never made her so aware of every molecule of water around her, even those suspended in the air or running through pipes.

It was getting worse, and Luka knew it would kill her. That is, if an overdose or a mad devotee or the army of an enemy nation that saw her as a threat didn’t kill her first.

But if she had made one good decision all day, it had been to have left the house just when she did. She ducked behind a tree as she saw a heavily guarded white carriage drive just past her. She did not need to recognize the bright emblem engraved on its doors to know that it was a nobleman.

She waited for it to go away, as she expected, it was headed for her house. Unfortunately, her magic was no secret in her village or far away kingdoms, Lily's devotees were not the only ones with their eyes fixed on her.

Once she was out of their sight, she dared to step away from her hiding place, she moved deeper into the trees before warily continuing on her way. She was not in the mood to deal with aristocrats or merchants or anyone who thought they had riches alluring enough to win her hand.

She would disappear into the soothing darkness of a hollow tree for a couple of hours to rue her existence and wait for the drug to wear off and, hopefully, whoever had planned on visiting her would be gone by then.

Or, at least, that was her intention.

She felt the ripple of magic around her before she heard the faint rustle of leaves on the trees and ground, the disturbance in the air that seemed to form a bubble around her.

No, not just around her.

She wanted to run, but before she could, she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

“Good morning, Miss,” said a whispering voice that sent shivers down her spine, “I take it you are Luka Megurine?”

Chapter 2: All nobles are the same

Notes:

It maybe doesn't look like it, but most of these things sound better in Spanish, I swear. Anyway. Enjoy or something.

Chapter 2: All nobles are the same

Luka found that dealing with nobles was, to some extent, very similar to dealing with enthusiast devotees. Putting up with wet kisses on the back of her hand, feigning shyness to pretentious compliments, and making a small magic performance to impress them and have them go away happily. 

Her followers, however, she could dismiss with a wave of the hand and they usually left satisfied, otherwise the guards would intervene without her having to lift a finger. It was not so easy to get rid of aristocrats, who seemed to have more and more interest in Luka every year, especially since she came of age.

They would stick to her for hours at a time, during which she had to pretend not to notice the condescension in their words, the forced courtesies, the greedy and depraved gleam in their eyes and the ill-concealed embarrassment when Luka rejected any kind of proposal they offered to her. 

Unfortunately, human being ranked fifth on the list of how she was looked upon by people, right after the Goddess’ Chosen One, saint, potential bride, and weapon.

She doubted Marquis Leon of Thesan was the exception. 

The first thing she noticed about him was the firm grip on her shoulder, as if he feared Luka would slip through his fingers like smoke. Then she saw the vibrant green eyes, platinum blond hair, the wide smile, and his indigo suit. He looked a couple of years older than Kyo. 

“ It’s really you, isn’t it?” he said with almost childlike excitement.
“Uh, yeah, it’s me.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Saint Megurine, may I ask what is someone like you doing in the middle of the forest?
“I…”
“I come from far away to visit you, Miss, I don't suppose you will invite me to your home to steal a couple of minutes of your time ?”

No matter how many times Luka repeated that it wouldn't take them long to get there on foot, the marquis refused with a charming smile and insisted on driving her there himself. Before she could protest, he linked his arm with hers and dragged her towards his carriage, where a page was already waiting for them with open doors.

She had already suspected it from what happened in the grove, but now she was sure that Leon, as he had asked her to call him, controlled the wind. She could tell by the touch of his hand on her shoulder, even through the clothes. Of course, that way, she hadn't even heard him approaching.

She wanted to kick him.

Still, at least he seemed to have manners. If Luka's attire struck him as inappropriate or vulgar—the olive green pants with suspenders and the well-worn shirt, both soiled with dirt and leaves—he didn't show it. He made no gesture of disgust as she climbed into his pristine carriage, nor when she sat down in its ivory seats. He didn't even ask her about the weirdness of a supposed saint sneaking around her own home.

Except for a few cordial words, the ride was quiet, but Luka felt sick. She couldn't believe that she had seriously been stupid enough to believe the owner of the carriage she had just climbed into was really planning to take her home and not to a dark basement in the middle of Goddess-knows-where. Not even children were that naive, or at least you had to lure them in with candy.

When she had imagined herself inside perfect strangers’ carriages, this was not what she had in mind. 

She could have hit herself, but had to trust that if they were really trying to kidnap her, some flames in his gorgeous hair locks would serve to wipe the smug smile off his face and run away. 

Unfortunately, there was no need to resort to violence. In a couple of minutes she found herself in front of familiar steel bars.

“Care to accompany me?” asked Leon, offering her his arm, as if she really had a choice.

She noticed that two riders from the escort had gone ahead to announce the arrival of the marquis, her guards had chased away the crowd of fanatics, but they didn’t manage to remove all the offerings and decorations at the open gates. At the doorway, Chika, Kokone and Kyo waited for her with their arms crossed. As Leon helped her down, Luka turned her head to avoid their faces.

“I imagine you are Saint Megurine’s family,” he said with a brilliant smile, Luka almost gagged.
“Indeed, I am her mother,” Chika stepped forward, she had tied her hair up. “Is there any matter you wish to discuss regarding my daughter?”

It wasn’t the first time Luka witnessed her mother’s transformation when it came to people with power, whether it was by magic, lineage, or both; but it surprised her each time, it was like seeing an entirely different person. 

“As a matter of fact. Miss Megurine has already invited me in, may I?”

Luka ignored the murderous looks of her siblings, as if she had had any say in the matter. 

“If Luka insists, there must be a good reason,” Chika’s stern expression didn’t change at all. “Please, this way.”

Without another word, she turned around and began to walk, Kyo followed her and Kokone stood warily in place until she had no choice but to imitate him. Leon, with a wave of his hand, indicated to his servants to wait for him there. Luka dared to raise her head, the sky was cloudy.

Although Leon let go of her arm when the doors closed behind them, he tried not to separate more than a few inches from her at a time. Luka didn't realize she was still wearing the cloak until she found herself fiddling with the emblem. She unbuttoned it and tossed it inconspicuously onto a nearby coat rack.

Chika led them through long corridors with high ceilings and ebony floors, where her heels clacked and echoed along intricate off-white walls. Kokone trailed behind them all, and Luka felt her gaze fixed on her back. 

“You have a beautiful home,” Leon said, admiring the paintings, most painted by Kyo, and the thick curtains that covered the windows. During the day, the only source of light came from skylights. “Although I can’t help but notice your lack of servants.”
“We have no need to hire servants,” said Chika without looking at him. “Besides, we value our privacy.”
“Sounds sensible.”
“I hope it is.” 

They walked until they reached the living room, where Chika sat in the center of the widest couch and sent Kyo to bring tea. Luka knew well his impulsiveness, so perhaps it was for the best. In any case, she and Kokone sat on either side of her mother, Leon chose the opposite armchair.

The three of them must have contrasted a lot. Luka, who had just crawled in the dirt and sunk her boots in mud, Chika, in her elegant black dress, and Kokone, who hadn't even taken off her nightgown, but hopefully would pass as a sundress. 

Leon looked nervous as the room fell into a heavy silence, the seconds marked by the pendulum of the clock. 

“We apologize for the… state you found my daughter in,” said Chika, and Luka cringed in embarrassment, of all the ways there were to start a conversation, she had chosen the worst one she could have come up with. 

She frowned and gave her a sidelong glance, but her mother didn’t even look at her. Her back was straight, studying Leon with those lucid eyes Luka hadn’t seen in weeks, with her hands resting on her crossed legs, she looked regal, more like a saint than Luka herself. 

Nevertheless, the marquis laughed, suddenly regaining his charisma.

“Please, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, after all, it’s not easy to live with fame,” he dismissed the topic with a wave of his hand. “We all need to go incognito from time to time, I used to run away from home too, even the young princess used to do it. It was fortunate to have found you among all those trees, Miss. I’m sorry if I scared you when I hid the sound of my footsteps, but I was afraid that…”
“Excuse me,” interrupted Kokone, and Luka couldn’t be more grateful to her. “I don’t think I remember your name.”
“Ah, how rude of me, I beg your pardon,” he rose from his seat to bow deeply and put his right hand to his chest. “I am Marquis Leon of Thesan, I have come from Nevella, my hometown, looking for you, Saint Megurine.”

He sat down again. Luka was beginning to hate her supposed title more and more, the idea of setting his hair on fire suddenly became even more tempting. Instead, she bit her tongue.

“Nevella…” she repeated thoughtfully, partly to try to remember where she had heard that name and to suppress the heat that was beginning to well up in her fingertips. She remembered the bottle of Navoran in her pocket, a dose like the one she had taken was supposed to last for a couple of hours, at least. “A city to the north, quite far from here.” 

This time, Leon gave her a sad smile.

“Indeed, Miss, my marquisate,” he shifted his position a little. “Since your birth, stories have been heard about you, you know, your blessing.”

Luka sighed, it was always the same, why did no one ever stop by just for a cup of tea? She tucked her hair behind her ears, in case there were still tangled leaves in it. 

No one said anything, so Leon cleared his throat and continued. 

“There was a drought, wasn’t it? It tormented your town for many months, until you were born and cried for the first time, you summoned a storm that saved countless lives.”
“It’s what I've been told,” responded Luka, unsure of what else to say, he smiled at her.
“Please, it’s obvious your soul is kind even from your birth,” he paused before continuing. Luka hoped he didn't notice her fingernails digging into her palms. “But surely you know that the cause of that drought was no accident.”

Beside her, Chika and Kokone tensed up. Luka had to admit she wasn’t expecting the conversation to be about that . 

They were called Dawns, the bursts of blinding sunlight that, ironically, arose from the depths of earth. They weren’t like earthquakes or volcano eruptions, but manifestations of pure magic and, therefore, chaotic, dangerous and adored.

In some cases, as in her town, the effects had been more mundane, however in other places the nights turned bright for weeks, the colors of things seemed to bleed off and drip to the ground, the shadows disappeared without a trace, giving the objects a luminescent look.

“Once, the Goddess banished the darkness to make way for the light. Of course, the shadows eventually returned, so it is likely that she will seek to finish the job, this time for good, hopefully,” he continued, crossing one leg over the other. “But Luka, a lot has been said about you, about your blessed magic. It's not absurd to think that your destiny is….”

Before Leon could continue, and before Luka could raise her hand to summon fire, for that matter, Kyo dropped a luxurious tray on the table in the center of the room. With an indifferent face, he began pouring tea.

Leon continued  when Kyo finished his and sat down in an armchair away from them.

“As I’m sure you’ve already guessed by now, it’s the Dawns that bring me here,” he said after taking a sip from his cup. “Saint Megurine, I would never question my faith in the Goddess, much less you. But a Dawn has broken out just a few miles away from my city, and it’s wreaking havoc on my people.”
“You want me to come with you to help your marquisate.”

Again, Luka caught a glimpse of that childish illusion on his face, Leon straightened up and smiled, she could almost hear the gears in his brain turning at full speed. For her part, Chika was very still, which had never been a good sign, and her siblings looked between stunned and about to pounce on him.

“Indeed, Saint. Imagine all we could accomplish, what we would have with the Goddess on our side.”
“I’m afraid,” Luka said cautiously, “that you seem to take for granted the theory that the Goddess has had any influence on my… abilities. Actually, we don’t have actual proof that such thing is true. And even if it were,” she squeezed the fabric of her pants between her trembling fingers. “A Dawn is something much bigger than just one person, even someone like me. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about it.”

This time, Leon's laughter was a bit noisier. 

“Saint, that modesty will be the death of you someday,” he said, and Kokone flinched. “You can’t really think you have no relation whatsoever with the Goddess.” 

To prove his point, he tapped his cheekbone with his index finger. Luka brought her hand to the same place on her face. 

“There are few people with eyes like yours.” 

It wasn’t a lie. Luka’s eyes weren’t the warm amber her siblings and father shared. 

According to ancient texts, her golden eyes were just like Lily’s. 

She couldn’t help looking at their mother’s glacial blue irises, her lips were pursed in a thin white line. 

“I don’t think you understand,” she said at last. “There’s nothing my daughter can do to help you.”
“You don’t mean the rumors are true, do you?” he leaned on the arm of the chair, drumming his fingers in it. “If this has to do with the… volatility of Saint Megurine’s magic, you have nothing to worry about. In Nevella we have the best doctors, thaumaturges, and saints. And even if that's not enough, we won't skimp on bringing in help from distant kingdoms. Once our problems have been solved, I hope you will consider staying for at least a season, and perhaps you could….

The bees were agitated. Even from where she was, Luka could hear their buzzing louder than Leon's chatter. She felt as if the air in her lungs was being replaced by honey and sunlight.

And yet she should have known it. Leon was just spouting the same things her followers repeated blindly. Lily already had a descendant leading her devotees. It wasn't Luka. There’s no way it was her.

She clenched her hands into fists, she felt she had forgotten how to breathe. 

“We appreciate your generous offer, but I think it’s time for you to leave.” Kokone suddenly stood up. 

Leon looked at her sideways, with ill-concealed asperity.

“I don’t think that’s a decision you should make for her.” 

Leon stood up and walked up to Luka, who felt her heart racing. To her surprise, he knelt down and took her too-hot hands in his, her face flushed red. Chika’s eyes went wide and Kyo jumped up, arms outstretched at his sides showing his palms.
Leon ignored them. 

“Saint, I understand this is a difficult decision, but if I can’t tempt you with luxuries and power, I hope my people can convince you. People who are dying, people who are suffering and who you could save."

Just like that, the bubble within which Luka had lived all her life burst. 

She knew about the Dawns, she knew that with her magic she could do things every other person could ever dream of, she knew she was cursed, but she never imagined that, in spite of everything, she could still help people, maybe entire cities, if she was clever enough. Even now, the thought seemed absurd, after all, her powers had brought nothing but misery, there was really a way she could help?

But she didn't even get the chance to think about it. 

She hadn't realized her mouth was hanging open. She closed it. She opened it again to say something, anything, but before she could do it, Chika stood up. 

“My daughter has already made her choice, I'll guide you to the exit.”

“But…” risked Luka. 

Before Luka was even able to untangle the knot of words that formed incoherent phrases in her head, each of which would infuriate her mother more than the last (“ You haven’t asked for my opinion. ”, “ Maybe he’s right. ”, “ I want to go with him. ”), Chika was already gone. 

Leon, still on his knees, looked up at her, as if expecting her to support him. But Kokone rested her hand on his shoulder gently. 

“Please, this way,” she said, and didn’t pull her hand away until Leon began to rise slowly. Then she turned away and followed her mother. 

Beneath a too-thin veneer of composure, Leon looked annoyed. No more so than Kyo, who looked seconds away from setting something on fire. So to keep her house from being burned down to ashes, this time Luka offered her arm to the marquis. 

Only Kyo stayed behind.

Luka had hoped that the noose that seemed to have tightened around her throat would loosen up as soon as she left the suffocating atmosphere of the living room, but once at the doorway, she found that he was still short of breath no matter how deeply she breathed. She hoped her expression wouldn’t give it away. 

Leon sighed as he walked across the flower-lined path to his carriage, until he stopped suddenly to turn around. 

“Thank you for having me, Saint. I’ll be staying in your lovely town for a couple more days. Specifically, Lord Onisse has offered to host me at his residence. In the meantime, I understand that I have found you in a situation where speaking your mind freely may be… difficult . I beg you to reconsider my offer and come to visit me, and whether you accept or decline, let it be your decision. I know you will make the right choice,” he bent down to pluck a pink tulip that he brought to his nose, then tucked in his lapel. “And, Miss Megurine, I am deeply sorry for your loss.” 

Chika hissed as if she had been punched in the stomach and, as if on instinct, cradled her left hand against her chest. In hindsight, Kiyoteru's death was obvious, the portraits, the black dress, the blatant absence of a father, yet the comment even upset Luka.

Kyo only joined them until the rattle of wheels on dirt and the neighing of horses had completely faded. He put one arm around his mother and another around Luka's shoulders.

“Hey, I…” started Luka, but Kyo shook his head before she could finish. 

Apologies didn't really exist among her family.

All nobles were the same.

Chapter 3: Luka dreamed of beaches

The forgiveness of Luka’s siblings didn’t save her from her mother’s scolding, “ What were you thinking when you ran away from home?! Why the hell would you hop in so cheerfully into a stranger’s carriage? Why invite, out of all people in the world, an aristocrat ?! Why would you do this to us? .”

Luka hadn’t even bothered in arguing, she just stared at the floor with embarrassment and said “ I know ” or “ I’m sorry ” every once in a while and left in silence when Chika finally sat at the edge of her bed and hid her face in her hands. 

She shuddered at the mere memory of it, but Chika was soon back to her lethargic state, the pitiful looks, and melancholy Luka that knew so well, which wasn’t a relief, but it was as close to that as she was going to feel when it came to her mother. 

Kyo, in spite of everything, still looked upset, so Luka had decided to avoid him for at least a couple of more days.
Luckily, the quarrels between her and Kokone never lasted long. 

“I thought he was going to propose.”

“It would be the fifth proposition in two years,” sighed Luka. “Curse the day I turned eighteen.”

“I don’t think it makes much a difference. Remember the guy from a couple of years ago? He was putting a ring on your finger when you were fourteen.”

“Goddess, I was trying to repress that memory.”

“Kyo was about to kick him out with a broom.”

“And then Mom kicked him out with a rolling pin. Too bad she was in such a rush to make him leave, it was a beautiful ring.”

“Luka!”

“It was pink! And it had those little diamonds on the sides. Maybe the marriage would have been worth it.”

Kokone pushed her shoulder gently, the blow softened by the several handkerchiefs Kokone had wrapped her fist in. Since the last time, she didn’t dare touch Luka’s skin without at least three layers of cloth separating them. 

It didn’t quite work. One brush and the murmur of magic inside her would stir again, but the extra precautions made Luka feel more isolated than usual, so she wouldn’t be the one to tell her. 

But they had discovered none of that happened when her hair was touched, so Kokone felt free to keep braiding flowers around Luka’s head with her nimble and bare fingers. 

Three days had passed since the accident with Leon, which had left a bad taste in everyone’s mouths, but at least both of them felt confident enough to joke about it.  

Luka, in particular, did it to try to distract herself from the thoughts that ate away at her. 

So they decided to sit under the shade of a tree and talk to ease the tension that hadn’t quite dissolved since then. Despite the cold inside the house and the cool breeze, the midday sun shone down on Luka’s skin.

Bees buzzed around them, crawling around their arms and torsos. Kokone loved to tell her how much they used to terrorize Kyo, surprisingly enough, it was her the one that was never too bothered by them, and while she was never thrilled at the idea of living in a house riddled with hives under the windowsills, she had found it wasn’t that hard to ignore them.

Most of the time, at least. 

On the other hand, they had appeared when Luka was too young to remember a time when she wasn’t surrounded by entire swarms. 

“One might think you aren’t too interested in rings,” Kokone commented, tugging gently on the chain that hung from Luka’s neck. 

Luka brought her hand to her necklace, an oval sapphire she’d worn for as long as she could remember. The last gift from her father, she’d been told. Sometimes she wondered if Kokone was jealous, especially in those kinds of situations, when she spoke of it with a hint of something between wariness and longing in her voice.

She was barely over two years old when Kiyoteru died, neither she nor Kyo had received anything. 

But if she truly felt that, her gestures didn’t give her away. She continued to hum as she plucked nearby flowers. 

“You know, it was really lovely,” she said as she picked a marigold and placed it in her lap. “Maybe we could have shared it, pink looks good on both of us.”

“Would we share a husband, too?” Luka joked, but the thought sent shivers down her spine. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had received another proposal the other day hadn’t Kyo interrupted with the tea.”

“Did you notice that, too? Damn pig!” Kokone laughed. “You invite a nobleman in once and he feels entitled to take you to bed.”

“Well, no one had said anything about beds until now, Koko.”

“Oh, because the aristocracy is always so pure of thoughts,” she shook her head, then continued in a quieter tone. “I don’t know how you put up with it all. It’s hard enough dealing with the magic itself, but, the fanatics? The men who chase after you every week?”

“Hey, don’t be unfair, women have chased after me on several occasions.”

“Don’t you try to change the subject, answer me.”

Before answering, Luka forced herself to take a bite from the peach she had been rolling in her hands for several minutes now. Nectar dripped from her lips, it was too sweet. 

“I’m not the only one suffering, you more than anyone else have to deal with all the problems I bring.”

“Don’t try to compare us. You know well who wins the woe competition here.”

Luka wanted to protest, though, to be fair, her powers hadn’t always been a tragedy. In one of her earliest memories, she couldn’t have been more than two years old, yet she remembered vividly that pink-haired woman she’d never seen again in her life. 

So many years ago, her mother might as well have been a different person, with rosy cheeks and big, expressive eyes. Back then, Chika would look at Luka and smile with black painted lips, not a fake smile that would be given to a child along with the empty promise that everything would be alright, but she sang in a melodious voice and baked honey cakes and danced. 

But as Luka grew up, her magic did too, as did the symptoms of a single body that carried so much sunlight within its veins and the tantrums of a child who didn’t know the extent of her powers. That was the true face of Luka’s gift, beyond the brown sand turned into diaphanous crystal figures and the camellia buds she made bloom between her hands. 

The smiles, the sugary desserts, and the black lipstick soon disappeared. 

Luka discovered her eyes were glued to the windows of her mother’s room, hidden by dark curtains, so she averted her gaze to the fruit and took another bite, more juice trickled onto the cloth they were sitting in. 

“Hey, Kokone.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you really think he’s a pig? Most people who come looking for me do so to propose or be blessed, or whatever. But this marquis truly left his luxurious palace to come to this town in the middle of nowhere to ask for help . He looked sincere, I think he really wants to save his people. 

This time, it was her sister who took a minute to answer. 

“Both options are not mutually exclusive.”
“Maybe not, but I’ve been thinking about it, what if he’s right? If there is another way I could use my magic? Do you think it could be the solution to our problems?”

She looked at her hands, for the first time in her life they could be something more than weapons, something better. Meanwhile, the grip on her hair seemed to tighten. 

“You don’t seriously believe you are the chosen saint of a prophecy. Either you’ve read too many bad novels or your fans’ nonsense has gone to your head.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she said, of course she didn’t think so, but felt her cheeks turn red anyway. “Think about it, if there’s a glimpse of truth in what everyone thinks, if I really am connected to Lily in some way, If there really is a reason for my magic’s existence and I am not just an aberration—”

“Luka!”

“Why not give it a try, Kokone? This time could be different.”

“Because it’s ridiculous! I know you’re scared, we all are, but not for that reason we can trust the first person to promise us hope.”

“But we already have. Goddess, we’ve done it so many times. For once, let me do the only thing we haven’t tried!”

At some point they had both gotten up to face each other. The peach, forgotten, had fallen on the damp earth. 

It wasn’t a fight, not yet. Because Kokone never got angry and didn’t raise her voice out of pride or anger, but out of concern and, as much as Luka refused to admit it, prudence. Therefore, her words never failed to make her feel like she was sinking into a deep ocean. 

“Luka.”

“Yes?”

But Kokone wasn’t looking at her anymore, Luka followed her gaze to the ground, where the grass around her feet was growing. 

“I think we should go back.”

“Yes, maybe.”

“Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Luka took a tentative step towards the door, which seemed hundreds of feet away, the plants still stretching as if it wanted to reach out and curl around her heels. 

“Kokone?” she said, and couldn’t shake off the feeling that she sounded like a small child. 

Still, her sister got the message. Though she hesitated before offering her arm, in the end she helped her find her footing and walk to the kitchen. Luka knew that now less than ever she should approach anyone, but she was terrified of being alone.

She took a deep breath, thought of the sting of Navoran in her throat, tried even to pray to the Goddess, but when she reached the doorstep and looked behind her, her footprints were clearly marked by daisies and dandelions.

The bees, as always, followed her.

Staggering, she sat down in a chair, and was surprised to see Kokone run to the medicine cupboard and open it.

“I must say,” she said, though Luka was sure she couldn’t be far off, her voice sounded distant. “You picked the perfect time to drink all the Navoran.”

“I must say,” Luka countered. “You picked the perfect three days to stay home and not buy anymore.”

Which wasn’t quite true, Kyo had just gone to the market. If he had a drop of sense left in his head, he would get even one vial. 

But Luka had neither the time to wait for it nor the certainty that there was a drop of reason left in his stubborn head, so she dug his nails into her palms to try to concentrate on the bottles that remained inside the cabinet, arranged in no specific order.

Selestice would help mitigate her blazing skin and the sparks that threatened to flare at her fingers, but it was a distillate of boreal leaves, she would end up freezing the entire room. The Lithias extract inhibited magic, but they weren't half as strong as Navoran, so at that point it would be barely more effective than drinking lavender tea. The jar of Kathenia’s pollen, pushed deep into the cabinet, might work, but had to be put under a very delicate process before consuming it, otherwise she might well end up in a comatose state. Or worse.

Maybe if she mixed everything in a glass and prayed very hard , she wouldn’t die when drinking it. 

When she opened her eyes, Kokone was in front of her, the same frustrated expression Luka must have had on her face.

“Freezing water baths used to work a few years ago, maybe they’ll help now,” she suggested, unconvinced.

“Nothing of the sort,” said a third voice, both looked up. 

Chika was standing just outside the room, holding something in her left hand, but Luka could not see clearly what it was.

“Mom?”

Chika ignored her, walked over and put a small glass on the table, the liquid inside was translucent and purplish in color.

“Mom, please don’t do this,” said Kokone.

“Drink this, Luka.”

“Is this your plan? To drug her completely until she can’t remember her own name? To slow down her heart rate until it stops completely?”

“This is your alternative?”

She gestured at her, more as if she were an animal in misery about to be slaughtered than a sick daughter. That is, of course, if in future sacred texts she was described as sick and not as a martyr. “ I can hear you ,” was what Luka wanted to say, but she feared if she parted her lips, all the bees that lurked on her face would enter her mouth. 

“It's your decision, my daughter, whether you’d rather your sister be free of her pain for a few minutes or risk having her snatch the air from our lungs or end up getting herself killed.”

Luka reached for the glass, the crystal felt cold against her skin. Up close, she could recognize it, Irsez was a sleeping tonic that they didn't keep with the rest of the drugs, but that Chika kept in a drawer in her dresser. She brought it to her mouth with trembling fingers.

She took a deep breath and pushed as many of the insects away from her face as possible, before they could return, she threw her head back and drank it all down. Where the Navoran was sharp and suffocating, this tasted like something sweet and spiced.

It was a less than orthodox solution, Luka knew well that flowers would probably continue to bloom even from her grave, however, her powers were far less dangerous when she was unconscious.

Kokone looked horrified, Chika's face never changed much. She wanted to keep her eyes open, but failed even at that. Sleep fell over her like a dense and gray haze. 

---

Because Luka was sick of flower fields, she dreamed of beaches. She had never been to one, but she still imagined vividly blue oceans, the soothing hum of the waves, and salty breeze. 

She awoke gradually to discover that the heat she felt was not due to the sun at dusk, and that she had mistaken the buzzing of bees for swell. 

She opened her eyes, lying on fluffy pillows and cotton sheets now damp and sticky and covered with honey. Although the candles had burned out, the scorch on the walls where they hung indicated that the flames had burned brighter than they should have, much brighter.

She didn't want to look in the mirror, she knew what she would find.

Instead, she tried to straighten up, a hand stopped her.

“Good morning, moron.”

“Morning? The sun’s about to set,” she said hoarsely. 

Kyo offered her a languid smile. He was sitting next to her, on the chair that was usually on the other side of her room.

“Mom and Kokone?”

“Downstairs, cleaning up. We are taking turns to take care of you.”

“Goddess,” she said, sinking into the pillows. Of course, the disasters she caused were never that trivial, there was always more. Charred clothes, rotting wood, ruined books, dead insects, plants that had to be uprooted. “Is it a lot?”

“Believe it or not, no,” Kyo shrugged. “It's nothing we're not used to, don't worry.”

Luka didn't have the courage to look her brother in the eye, so she turned her head the other way. 

“I'm a burden.”

“You're a blessing, we adore you, mom adores you.”

“Do you, really? Because as far as I know, I've brought nothing but misery. What would you do if I didn't have… this ?” she straightened up and pointed to herself. "Would you have gone to university? Would Kokone be traveling the world? Could you walk down the street without being harassed by religious lunatics?”

Once upon a time, fights and heartbreaks had not been so usual in their home. Kyo looked hurt, Luka wasn't the only one with fragmented dreams and wounds not quite healed.

“What about Mom?” he asked quietly after a few seconds of silence, “I… I don't remember much about Dad. But when—” he choked up, “When he died, we were alone. We didn't have a roof over our heads, Mom couldn't get a job and we would have starved to death, or Goddess only knows what. But then you came along and brought rain and sunshine and your damn bees. You saved us, for that we can't thank you enough.”

She knew the story well by now, but it always felt as terrible as hearing it for the first time. Luka bit the inside of her cheek, unable to find anything to say to him, so it was Kyo who spoke once again.

“I think you should sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

“You should try. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

This. Luka didn't know if he meant repainting the walls or the everything else. This was too small a word to put in all the meaning he wanted to.

Luka was about to protest, but Kyo had already gotten up to blow out the candles. It was dark outside, what time was it? She never slept this long. Like most medicines in the cupboard, Irsez had to be diluted, she wondered if her mother had even considered adding a drop of water.

Then she wondered if Chika herself diluted it before drinking it. 

“Kyo.”

“Hmm?”

She opened her mouth to tell him what she had said to Kokone. Out of all her family, Luka had thought she would be the one to better understand the responsibility she felt to aid people, the one who would be able to see the flicker of logic behind her flimsy and incoherent reasoning and help her make sense of it all, discover together that there was an explanation for everything and that it wasn't all some cruel, unsolvable coincidence.

But she had misjudged. None of them were believers that Luka was Lily's chosen one or whatever (or at least, Luka usually didn’t use to, but she was desperate for any kind of answer), yet she had been hopeful that her siblings might forget that notion for a second to listen to her idea. Now she no longer had that certainty, so she bit her tongue and said something else.

“You rest for a while too, you look terrible.”

“Ouch.”

He smiled at her, and that was his only goodbye before leaving her alone in her room, as usual, he didn't even bother to make her an empty promise that he would.

In truth, Luka hadn’t lied, she wasn’t tired at all, and had no idea how they intended for her to sleep until dawn.

However, she tried to close his eyes, but Leon's words were still burning red hot in her mind.

“Saint, I understand this is a difficult decision, but if I can’t tempt you with luxuries and power, I hope my people can convince you. People who are dying, people who are suffering and who you could save.”

Of course it wouldn’t be the first time they tried to manipulate her with admirable causes like saving lives and uniting kingdoms (like the lands she owned extended beyond her garden), but for the first time, this was about a real problem, one she might just be able to solve.

And even if Leon had lied, what if out there, away from the safety of steel bars and guards, there were people dying? People she could help with even a single sunbeam?

What if she could actually do something?

Luka had long since given up hope for herself, but all those years she had been so busy immersed in her grief that she never stopped to think what she could do for others, even if her own fate was sealed.

Never again.

If the world really was determined on seeing her as a saint or a martyr, so be it, but at least she would not be remembered as the girl who could have done something but remained all her life in cold indifference.

If her siblings weren't going to support her, she wouldn't even bother to mention it to her mother, she already knew the response she would get, so she would look for someone to help her, even if it was out of own interest.

The bees buzzed enthusiastically.

Kyo said they were taking turns watching over her, so either her mother or Kokone would arrive at any time.

She pulled on her treasured boots and, more out of habit than because she truly doubted it was missing, corroborated that she was still wearing her necklace.

She left her room and closed the door behind her, and walked through the corridors, careful not to step on the creaky wooden boards. She only hid behind a corner once when she heard her mother's footsteps approaching, but they were headed for her own room instead of Luka's.

When she reached the living room, she found Kokone resting on the couch, at her feet was a small pot half-filled with water and a pile of books covered in a thin layer of ice. Kyo lay in the opposite armchair. Sleep must have overcome him, he had never had the sense to follow good advice.

Then again, Luka was in no place to judge. 

She knew they were as heavy sleepers as she was, but tiptoed across the room anyway.

She opened the door as quietly as she could. She wasn't in the mood to crawl on the dirt again, so she glanced at the grate. Luckily, there were few people praying outside.

“Saint Megurine?” a kneeling woman put both hands to her mouth at the sight of her. At any other time, Luka would have offered at least a smile and an awkward wave, but this time she was in a hurry.

“Guards.”

The woman was very still, her eyes lit up. Luka watched as they tensed up, but did not move. Her mother must have given them new orders.

“Guards,” she repeated, her voice louder, but it gave the same result.

She cursed under his breath, at least now she knew for certain where their loyalty lay.

She looked down at her hands, she shouldn't be doing this, something went wrong every time she used his powers. It was a vicious cycle that fed on her, the more magic she did, the more grew within her. If she didn't release it, it consumed her from the inside, if she did, it hurt everyone around her.

More eyes were on her.

There was no time. She summoned a flame, the hottest and brightest she could master, and brought it close to the steel lock. She saw the woman on her knees was holding her breath. She didn't need to melt it completely, but to make it malleable enough to tear it off.

Despite everything, no one stopped her.

The crowd moved back a couple of steps to let her open the doors.

Luka was aware of how she looked, a sapphire on her panting chest, milky skin glowing like moonlight, her eyes shining in the darkness like the flame still burning in her hand. The bees that, trying to flee from the smoke, had conglomerated on the left side of her body.

They watched her cautiously, almost with fear, and yet, her name soon fell from their lips like a cacophony of prayers and worship. Several hands reached out to touch her, brush her long hair, capture a bee in a jar and treasure it on an altar.

Luka started to run, but the voices followed her.

“Saint Luka, Saint Megurine, Bearer of Light, True Daughter of Lily.”

This time, she didn't bother to take cover in trees and shadows, but took the main road, which would get her where she wanted to go faster. She didn't dare look back, if she was being followed, she preferred not to know.

It took her ten or fifteen minutes to reach the outskirts of town, and all the while she thought to hear Chika's accusing voice inside her head, Kyo's gaze fixed to her back, Kokone's cold disappointment falling on her like the drops of sweat sliding down her back.

In the distance, she saw a black carriage pulled by a pair of horses of the same color, empty except for the driver. It was roofless, but she didn't know how long it would take to find another vehicle at this hour (whatever hour it was), besides, her legs were killing her.

“Wait,” she realized she was whispering, she forced herself to raise her voice and wave her arms in the air. “Wait!”

But he kept moving forward, it wouldn't be long before he left her behind. Out of options, Luka paused for a second to bend down and touch the earth beneath her feet.

A crack made its way through the ground until it surpassed the animals, in front of them a mound of stone rose from the ground, causing them to whinny and stop dead in their tracks. The driver cursed, startled. But it gave Luka time to catch up.

She rested her forehead on the cold metal surface, and she thought that steam might as well come out of her skin. 

“You!” the driver pointed at her with a bony finger. “Did you do this?”

“I need…” she said, out of breath. “I need you to give me a ride.”

“Give you a ride?” he snorted. “You’ll be lucky if I decide not to run over you after what you’ve done, you little—”

Luka lifted her chin up so the driver could see her sweat-pearled face.His breath caught and swallowed the rest of his words. 

“Your tip better be as generous as it’s said you are,” he grunted and gestured  for her to get in.

“I can pay you…” Luka stammered, putting one foot in the running board, then the other. She remembered to return the stone to the ground with a wave of her hand only until the driver cleared his throat.

She didn't have a coin in her pockets, it never occurred to her that she might have needed money, she hoped Leon wouldn't mind paying for her ride. In the meantime, she made sure her necklace was tucked neatly under her shirt.

“Where to, Saint?”

“To Lord Onisse’s residence, I’ll pay you there,” after trying to get comfortable in her seat, Luka added, “Take the quickest way.”

The driver nodded and urged on the horses, which set off. Luka felt dizzy, she didn't know if it was due to the rush she felt each time she did too much magic or her heart beating at miles per hour, damned be her poor physical condition. It wasn't the first time she had escaped, but she had never gone this far.

She tried to take a deep breath to calm himself, she wished he had a bottle of Navoran on her, maybe Kyo had bought one after all, she should have asked him.

Luka was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't realize they were in the center of the city when they were already there, to her right she saw the market lit by fire of a thousand colors, the scent of bread and candy wafting in the air, street performers doing tricks with huge exotic birds perched on their shoulders and playing music. But above of it all there was magic, so much magic.

“Excuse me,” Luka leaned towards the driver to make herself heard over all the commotion. “There should be a less crowded route.”

“Onisse’s mansion is on the other side of town, Miss,” the driver laughed, though the sound was more like a hacking cough. “You asked for the fastest path.”

“I did, didn’t I,” Luka replied to herself, sinking into her seat. 

She looked down at her forearms, the glow on her skin would not be mistaken for the reflection of the firelight, let alone her eyes or the bees she couldn't completely get rid of. She wanted to sit on the floor of the carriage and bury her face between her knees.

But it was too late, fingers were already pointing at her accompanied by gawking faces. Whispers also began, but only a few words reached her ears, most of them were prayers.

She was barely able to keep her head up, her eyes fixed on the back of the chauffeur's head.

More people came to see her, some even approaching beside the carriage and walking along it. If a crowd planted itself in front of the wheels and stretched out its hands towards her, what would she do?

“Hurry up.”

For once both of them seemed to agree, he hurried the horses and they got out of there.

Luka stopped biting the inside of her cheek when they left the last market stalls behind. If Lily really existed, then she made sure no one had jumped into the carriage and onto her. 

They spent the rest of the trip in uncomfortable silence, the stores turned into each time bigger houses and, at one point, a plot of land covered in burned dirt and rubble that no one had dared to clear in years. Luka tried her best to ignore it and pay attention to anything else, so she noticed that almost everyone was wearing coats, but she was so hot she feared her hair would suddenly catch fire.

“Here we are.”

The carriage came to an abrupt stop in front of a mansion.
Luka knew that her house was not small, but it seemed minuscule in comparison to the one in front of her. Where the garden she had created was overgrown with both flowers and weeds, this one was symmetrical with bushes pruned with millimeter precision and had only red roses.

What she noticed above all else was the silence, there was not a soul around. Then Luka realized that what puzzled her was the absence of bees, not people.

Reluctantly, she got out of the vehicle and turned to the driver.

“Wait here, I’ll pay you in a minute.”

He seemed about to protest, but Luka was already running when he was about to do so. Breathing was difficult, and she knew well that abnormal pulse through her veins, she had to hurry. 

She ran through the garden and the large gates opened as soon as she touched them, behind them were two servants. She didn't know if it was due to the dozens of candles in the chandelier hanging above them, but it felt like opening an oven.

“Is the Marquis of Thesan here?”

They exchanged a nervous glance before one of them dared answer.

“It is his last day here, Miss. If he so wishes, you may see him before he departs tomorrow,” he said warily, trying to keep his composure, but his wide eyes wandered to Luka’s bees and her hands and her neck.

“Let me through, it’s urgent.”

“Please, we beg you to return until then.”

But the doors were open enough for her to slip through them. It wasn't devotion or fear that kept anyone from getting in her way, but the wooden planks that stretched to wrap around their legs up to their knees.

She climbed the stairs and soon encountered yet another problem, running aimlessly through corridors and halls, hiding every time she thought she heard someone. She had no time to make a plan, and entering every room until she found the marquis was certainly not an option.

Looking behind her to make sure no one was following her, she bumped into someone and both nearly fell to the floor.

“Goddess, you’re burning!” said a girl. 

Although she seemed around the same age as Luka, she was a couple of inches shorter than her. She was not dressed like a maid, but wore a white nightgown and was barefoot. Her frightened eyes were as blue as her long hair tied up in pigtails.

“Where is Leon of Thesan?”

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

So much for diplomacy. 

The girl wanted to step a couple of steps back, but before she could, Luka grabbed her by the wrist.

“Where is he?”

“Go upstairs, third room to the right, he must be packing now,” she answered so fast that Luka could hardly understand her. “What the hell are you planning to do?”

But by then Luka was already gone, unconcerned about being discovered. She was going to explain everything, she was going to apologize to the blue-haired girl and all of the servants, she would even fix the floor. She would make things right and they would forgive her, wouldn’t they? They would understand why she was doing all of this. 

“Leon, it’s me! Open up!” she demanded as she banged on the third door to the right. 

She had already barged into the room as soon as she heard the latch unlock. She stumbled over her own feet, but was caught in the arms of Marquis Leon de Thesan. She never imagined she would be so happy to see him.

“Megurine? What are you doing here?”

“I… I…”

Too late did Luka realize that the burning in her chest was not only due to the lack of air.
First she saw the searing burst of light and then nothing. 

Chapter 4: The same eyes she had seen so many times

Luka woke up to the rattle of a carriage on a rough road and a sweet taste in her mouth that vaguely reminded her of rotten fruit. She didn’t open her eyes.

"I passed out," she thought, "I passed out and Leon called the chauffeur to bring me home. He didn't have to give him directions because everyone knows where I live. When I get there, Mom will be so mad she'll lock me in my room for a whole year, and not even Kyo and Kokone will want to talk to me."

But the seat she was lying on was much softer and fluffier than the worn bench on which she had gone to the home of the Baron of Onisse. She didn't think anything of it; it wasn't the first time magic affected her perception.

But her back ached from being in the same uncomfortable position for too long, so she sat up, still drowsy.

The motion was accompanied by a sharp metallic tinkle.

The first thing Luka noticed was not Kyo and Kokone sitting in front of her with ashen faces, nor the immaculate white carriage they were in, but the heavy shackles on her wrists and ankles.

“Kyo..." she said in a whisper, watching her distorted reflection in the polished metal. "Kyo, what's going on?

But Kyo didn’t even look at her, it was Kokone who answered. 

“You hurt the Marquis… a lot. We still don’t know anything about his condition,” just like her brother, she averted her gaze. “The Queen knows you, who knows for how long. Apparently, she gave orders to bring you to her palace if your magic ever caused a… conflict. We tried to stop them from chaining you up, but they said they have to make sure not to lose you, no matter what.”

Even before the queen was born, it was said that she would have to bear the weight of the entire galaxy upon her shoulders, and was thus named Galaco. That was, at least, how the story had it, but it was also all she was to Luka, a distant figure like a character from a story, more destined to save the world than Luka herself. 

The idea that Galaco would even know of a girl who lived in the middle of nowhere was absurd, just like thinking she would consider her important enough to have prepared a carriage just to bring her to the capital. 

“This isn’t happening,” said Luka. It was a fact as clear as crystal, a smile trembled on her lips, waiting for someone to admit it was all a bad joke. “I’m not really chained up, there’s no way any of this is true.”

But the turbulent reality started to slowly settle around her, like the last piece to a puzzle falling into place. The cream colored curtains that kept her from seeing where she was became sharper, as did the weight of her chains, the delicate fabric of the shawl on her shoulders that she hadn't been wearing the night before. It smelled like vanilla. 

Everything was real, it was all so real. 

The true weight of her decisions fell upon her like a bucket of icing water. She had run away from home, perhaps for the last time, she had hurt an innocent man who, for all she knew, might be dead as they spoke, each minute she was getting closer to the queen's palace, where she would be condemned for her crime.

She took a deep breath to distract herself from the profound terror that had took root in her chest and took another look around. The vehicle was one of the widest she had ever seen, and yet....

“Where’s mom? Is she alright?”

There was enough space for the four of them and even luggage, yet they were alone. 

“She decided to stay.”

“What?”

“Mom is at home. She decided to stay,” he repeated, his eyes fixed on something invisible. “When we found out what happened… No one forced us to come, we almost didn’t manage to convince them to let us come with you. Mom said she couldn’t bear to even look at you.”

“Kyo!” hissed Kokone as her head whipped towards him. He ignored her.

“She told us she’d pack your bags to send them to you, then locked herself in her room.”

No one said anything else, Luka felt as if a punch to the stomach had stolen her breath away. 

She knew she couldn’t blame Chika. After all, she had every right to decide whether or not she wanted to march off to the royal court to bear the shame of her daughter’s stupidity, and Luka was old enough to take responsibility for her own mistakes. 

Still, it felt like a betrayal. And it hurt, how it hurt. Once upon a time, her mother had baked the best honey cakes Luka had ever tasted, years ago she had held her tightly to her chest, once she had even bought expensive dresses for the two of them just to parade around the market. 

A choked sound broke out from Luka’s throat, to her surprise, it was laughter. It was all so absurd. Luka dissolved into hysterical, bubbling laughter that she couldn’t suppress no matter how hard she tried. She laughed until she doubled over and her stomach hurt, laughed so hard she didn’t notice when the first tear fell, or the second. 

Had she been asked at what point the laughter turned into weeping, she wouldn’t have known how to answer. 

Except for the occasional sob from Luka, the rest of the trip was spent in silence. 

---

It was night when they reached the palace, which stood before them like a giant monument of mother-of-pearl and gold. A ring encircled a slender tower that rose like a needle reaching for the clouds. Everything glowed as if by its own light, and yet Luka’s stomach turned at the sight of it. 

The carriage came to an abrupt halt and, for a couple of tense minutes, nothing happened. Then the door suddenly opened and they were met by a maid with jet-black hair and wide brown skirts.

“Saint Megurine, it is an honor for me to be in your presence,” she curtsied. If she noticed her red and puffy eyes, her face didn’t show it. If she knew what she had done, it didn’t affect the adoration in her voice at all. Luka didn’t know which option was worse. 

Luka tensed as a guard approached her to unlock the locks on her chains. Once free, it was hard to hold back the urge to jump up and run away, but she knew she wouldn't get far. So she took a deep breath and rubbed her wrists, as if she had been imprisoned for a lifetime and not a couple of days.

“Please follow me.”

Luka glanced at her siblings hesitantly, Kyo nodded, Kokone looked sick. Luka got up on wobbly legs, and no sooner had she taken a step out of the vehicle than about a dozen armed men stepped back to clear a path for her.

At least she was relieved to breathe fresh air and stand on solid ground. The maid nodded complacently, then spun on her heels and started walking.

“What about them?”

“Luka,” Kyo warned in a lowered voice.

“Oh?” the maid spun and skimmed at them as if she had noticed them for the first time. “They can accompany you if you wish so, Saint.”

Hesitantly, both of them got out of the carriage and, because she feared she would fall apart if she didn’t, Luka took her sister’s hand. Kokone squeezed it, past cautions be damned.
She tried to ignore the guards that followed them in the distance

The gardens were beautiful, at least. Worlds apart from the chaos of weeds and bushes at home, and the almost obsessive symmetry and tidiness at Onisse’s mansion.  

But thinking about her hometown was too painful, so she dug her fingernails in her palm to distract herself. 

In any case, any thought Luka may have had vanished as soon as she entered through the double gates of the palace. 

Everything was bathed in gold, wherever she looked there were skylights and silver chandeliers and marble floors so lustrous she could see her reflection in them. High above her, a dome told Lily’s story. 

She had to squint to make out what was happening, and even then the details were hazy. Lily, crowned by a blazing halo, held a sword in her right hand. With the left one, she pointed to Rath’ia, goddess of darkness, and there was a dagger of sunlight and honey buried in her chest, the legendary weapon with which shadows had been banished. 

Rath’ia’s dying figure was shrouded in darkness that clung to her like wings and horns and scales. Lily’s face, however, was cool and serene, she looked at the demon with the same golden eyes Luka had seen in the mirror so many times.
Behind them stood the same castle she was in now.

“Where are you taking us?” asked Kokone, and Luka felt her clutching tighter onto her hand. 

“You will not see Her Majesty yet,” she answered without so much as a glance at them. “Saint Megurine’s trial will not take place until morning.”
“Trial?” 

Because the word slipped from Luka’s lips this time, the servant turned to her without stopping walking and gave her a bright smile. 

“I beg you not to worry,” “she said. “This is all part of the Goddess’ plan.” 

It took everything in Luka not to grimace. 

“And then?” Kyo aked. “What are you planning to do with her?”

“That is up to Her Majesty only.” 

Luka was about to protest, but almost crashed into her when she stopped all of a sudden. 

“You will stay here, Saint. We will take care of guiding your companions to their chambers in…”

“No,” Luka interrupted. “They stay here.”

For the first time, the maid’s smile faltered. Luka felt her siblings tensing up at her side. 

“Saint, the room is for one person only.”

“We’ll figure it out, we always do.” 

Luka wanted to convince herself that she was only trying to protect them, hadn’t Kyo said that they weren’t even supposed to have followed her, after all? She didn’t know how bloodthirsty was Galaco’s hand, or how insolent it was considered to bring along uninvited guests. If they stayed with her, at least she could keep them safe. 

But she knew that the truth, the ugly and selfish truth, was that she was terrified of being alone. 

Almost immediately, the servant regained her composure. She bowed again. 

“So it shall be, Saint. I will not go far, should you need anything, ring the bell and I will come at once. Your dinner will arrive soon.”

“We’ll be here,” Luka said, because it was the first courtesy that came to her mind, but the phrase sounded like a lie coming from her. After a second of deliberation, she added, “What’s your name?”

This time the maid couldn’t hide her astonishment. She blinked a couple of times. 

“My… My name?”

“If it’s not a problem I’d like to know. I won’t tell anyone.”

Discreetly, she peeked towards both ends of the hallway. If she lowered her voice, the guards wouldn’t be able to make out their conversation. 

“Avanna, Saint,” she said at last, as if she were confessing a secret, or a crime.

“Thank you, Avanna.” 

Avanna opened the doors, and they had no option but to enter, the last thing Luka saw before she closed them again was Avanna’s freckles scattered across her reddened face, her shy and dutiful, but also more genuine, smile. 

She should have expected it, but the room took her breath away anyhow. 

Like the rest of the palace, everything was worked in gold and pearl, the rug under her feet was so fluffy she could have laid down to sleep there. There was a white wooden desk to match the huge canopied bed and vanity next to it. 

Behind them, Luka could have sworn to hear the click of doors being locked. 

“Please tell me they didn’t really just lock us in,” Kyo said, trying to turn the doorknob harder than necessary. It wouldn’t budge. “I swear to the Goddess, I’m going to melt this damn thing off.” 

“It’s only natural that they do,” said Kokone, and collapsed onto the nearest seat. We’re with the most sought after person in the entire kingdom. They can’t risk anyone getting here.”

“It’s always lovely when you talk as if I weren't in the room.”

“As if they didn’t have soldiers on every corner.”

“Trying to enter here would be a suicide mission, it’s not about that,” said Luka, rubbing the petal of a vased lily between her index finger and thumb, all the flowers in the bouquet were white. “It’s to prevent me from leaving.”

“Then that seems like a huge security flaw,” Kyo gestured to the balcony at the opposite side of the room. “And they’re idiots if they think that just a latch would stop you.”

“You just said there are soldiers on every corner.”

“And until now, you’ve never had the chance to use your magic without holding back.”

“Kyo…”

“I’m just saying that if we really wanted to escape, we might have a small chance of making it. We have magic, too.”

“You do realize they’re probably spying on us, don’t you?” she hissed, pointing to the most shadowed corners around them, as if there were men hiding under the bed or inside hollow walls. “You’ll get us into trouble. More than we are in already.”

“Don’t fight,” Luka said before the conflict could escalate. “I’m not in the mood to watch you two argue.”

“Oh, you are not in the mood.” 

Luka ignored him, but despite everything that had happened, dared to consider his plan for a second. Kyo might believe that her powers were infinite and all-powerful, and maybe they were. But Luka herself wasn’t, and she paid the toll each time she used her magic. Even now, her head was foggy, and her fingers trembled when she held them out in front of her. 

Furthermore, the closest thing she ever had to a fight had happened at Onisse’s home. Leon had been unarmed, as had the servants whom she had rendered stuck to the floor. 

The men they would have to outrun—or fight—, had rifles with their fingers on the triggers. Not even she was faster than a bullet, and even if they didn’t shoot to kill… 

The sweet flavor, despite everything, remained on her tongue. She walked across the room to a door, and opened it to discover with relief that it led to a bathroom. She dared look at herself in the mirror. Between her nose and mouth, and even on part of her lips and cheeks, there were faint smudges the color of dried blood. 

She splashed some water in her face and rinsed her mouth. She felt just a little better. 

“How long did we travel for, exactly?” she asked, though wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer.

“Around three days before you woke up,” she said, upon Luka’s horrified face, she continued. “When you were unconscious, they gave you this drug, maybe some enhanced version of Irsez. They only stopped a few times to give you a dose.”

“And you still came close to waking up. Several times.” 

Luka almost started laughing again. She had already wasted an entire day doing nothing but sleeping, just when she’d just been drugged with Irsez, and not even that had been enough to keep her dormant. 

“Goddess.”

“We tried to stop them,” Kokone shrugged as if excusing herself, Kyo averted her gaze. “But they threatened to leave us behind if we tried to intervene. We couldn’t do anything.”

“No. It’s my fault. I got you into this. I’m so sorry.”

Kyo held onto the back of a chair as if that’s all that kept him from breaking down. As soon as he opened his mouth to say something, someone knocked on the door, then they heard the distinctive click of a key turning in a lock. Luka didn’t notice how much had the three of them tensed up until they saw Avanna in the hallway. 

“I hope I didn’t interrupt. Please, Saint, feel free to order anything else you might like.”

Luka raised her eyebrows at Avanna’s empty hands, but she stepped aside to let in two other servants carrying silver trays and a serving cart. They placed silverware and plates on the table where Kokone was sitting so quickly that Luka could hardly keep track of what they were doing. They poured wine and water into glasses, lit candles, moved the chairs back. In what seemed like a second, they turned to her with a bow and left. Kokone was pale.

“Ah.” 

But the smell of food flooded the room, and even from a distance Luka could see his brother's eyes light up.

“The card says it's pheasant stew," Kokone said, holding up the paper for them to see, but the print was too small. As if to herself, she added, "I've never had pheasant before.”

“It might be poisoned,” Luka suggested only half-jokingly as she took a seat next to her.

“They might as well have slit our throats before we even crossed the gates,” she said with something that was almost a smile. “I don’t think they’d go through all the trouble.”

“Just the carpet here is more expensive that our entire house, maybe they don’t want bloodstains.”

“I, for one, am willing to take the risk,” said Kyo peeking from under the lids. “I could eat a horse.”

“You know, we could wait and see what happens to him,” said Kokone as she watched her brother bring a spoonful of still-steaming food into his mouth. 

In the end, though, neither of them waited too long before following suit. If Luka expected the three of them to suddenly collapse onto their plates, it didn’t happen. They ate in silence, wary of any noise or movement outside of the windows. 

But Luka wasn’t too hungry, at noon she had eaten from the bag of cereal and beef jerky she had been given during the trip, and the knot in her stomach kept her from taking more than a couple of small bites or sips from her glass at a time, and yet she feared she would throw up on the beautiful rug. She was sure it was all delicious delicacies prepared by the most experienced cooks in the entire kingdom, but it all tasted like ashes to her.

Inside another lid was a small selection of desserts, but no one touched them. When all the plates except Luka's were empty, they didn't ring the bell for the servants to go and take them away.

“We’ll see the queen tomorrow,” said Kyo, bursting the fragile, peaceful atmosphere that had formed around them.

“I still can't believe it," said Kokone. “We're hundreds of miles away from home, but I feel like any second I'll blink and we'll be back in our everyday kitchen.”

“Do you think we’ll be alright?”

“I have no clue,” said Luka, playing with her dull knife to push a bit of carrot from side to side of her plate. “I’ll be judged, won't I? They'll discover that I have no relation to Lily whatsoever, and that my magic is more of a curse than a blessing. At best, I will be banished, perhaps. At worst…”

“Don’t be naive, sainthood is the last thing that matters to these people,” Kokone spat. “The only thing they care about is how fast you can start and end wars, how much lead you can turn into gold, how many people can you kill without so much as a flick of the wrist. 

Luka had dared to bring the carrot to her lips, but what little appetite she might have had was gone.

“Kokone…”

“I hate these people. You can’t imagine how much.” 

Kokone shook her head, then reached out to hold Luka's hands tightly between her own. 

“Luka. Everything will go back to normal. It has to,” she said, but Luka thought there was more certainty in his voice than anyone felt. “But, if by any chance, the worst thing happened… Promise me you won’t let them use you, that you won’t turn into their puppet.”

Wax dripped from the candles, and the heat from the flames began to burn Luka's arms, no doubt Kokone's as well, but her grip remained firm until Luka spoke again.

“I promise.” 

The words slipped from her lips without thinking, not as if any hesitation was needed. Of course she would never let them use her, she would never turn into their slave. 

After all, she didn’t have any reason not to hate them, too. All nobles were the same. 

One, two, three seconds passed until Kokone at last nodded and let her go, then sank back in her seat as if exhausted. 

“We should sleep,” she said when it was clear no one would say anything else. Luka and Kyo raised no objection. 

They stacked the dirty silverware in the corner of the table and blew out the candles, so the only light source came from the dim moonlight filtering through the windows.

There was enough room on the bed for Luka and Kokone to fit in without problem. Kyo took one of the multiple blankets and chose to sleep on the divan. 

But even in the softest mattress and pillows she had ever lay on, Luka couldn’t even bring herself to close her eyes for too long. Not that it surprised her, but it was frustrating nonetheless. Her sister, on the other hand, had dozed off in what seemed a second, and though even like that she still had that concerned wrinkle between her eyebrows that resembled Chika’s so much, Luka envied her. 

Her gaze was fixed on the canopy above her, trying to think of something comforting, whatever vaguely favorable outcome her trial might have. Maybe her magic would cause another scene in front of the court and they would have to recognize that they were endangering their very lives just by having her nearby, but Kokone’s words had been seared red-hot in her mind. 

She was already worshipped in Itith, she was expected to be a martyr or the next queen or the reincarnation of Lily, or whatever, would everyone think the same here? As far as she knew, she was breathing the same air as the Goddess’ true descendant was, and she didn’t think they would give up their title to her just like that. 

If there was anyone who could prove her false relation with Lily, it was them. Then, what would they do with her?

She sighed for what seemed like the eighth time in a minute, staying still like a dead bird was only going to make her more anxious and her limbs tense and sore. She glanced sideways at Kokone, who was still sleeping soundly. 

She pushed aside the comforter and sat on the edge of the bed. Her bare feet sank in the soft rug. 

She tiptoed to the balcony doors, they were not locked, and she understood why as she peeked over the railing. Beneath her was a lake, and had it not been for the convenient location and neat outline, Luka might have thought it was natural. At a further distancia there was a lovely wooden bridge across it and everything was surrounded by soldiers. 

Not just soldiers, she realized as she squinted, some didn’t have weapons or the usual uniform. Some of them were wearing blue. 

She locked eyes with one of them, just for a second, and although she faced the other way as soon as possible, he did notice. Luka knew they were water elementals, she knew why they were there, she knew why there was a lake beneath her, what she didn’t expect was for him to signal to the others, and all of them raising their arms. 

A fine mist arose from the lake, permeating the air, surrounding Luka until the bridge and the men and the lake and the bushes became blurry, barely visible silhouettes. Whether it was to keep her from view or to render her sightless, she didn’t know. Then again, it was always a bit of both. 

“Oh,” she scoffed, feeling defeated for some reason. 

But the air was still cold and crisp, so she breathed deeply. 

“You’re still mad at me,” before Kyo could ask, she continued. “You’re near to summoning fire each time you’re nervous. I can sense that.”

“So it’s getting worse.”

“It always is,” she shrugged to dismiss the matter.

“It’s late, let’s go back inside.” 

Luka didn’t move. 

“I’d like to stay here, actually,” she looked up at the moon, that they couldn’t keep away from her view, it was gorgeous. “Who knows, maybe it’s the last time I breathe fresh air or see the stars.” 

But maybe her phrasing had been off, because Kyo approached her with quick, anxious steps, stood closer to her than he normally would. 

“I was afraid you had ran away.”

“Please.”

“You always do, Luka. Each time I think I have you in my sight, each time I think you’re content, you just vanish out of thin air. I know I told you you had a chance, but I really feared you had abandoned us.”

“Even if I could, I don’t have a reason to, much less without you.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Hmm?”

“Before all of this, why did you flee to Onisse’s home? Anything you needed一anything you wanted , was at your fingertips, you just had to ask. It eats away at me, I don’t know what you could have wanted so desperately to do this to us. 

To do this to us. She doubled over as if she had received a punch to the stomach. She bit the inside of her cheek and dwelled over it for a few seconds. 

“You couldn’t have given me the thing I wanted一the thing I still want,” she said, clutching to the rail hard enough to turn her knuckles white. “What was our plan, really? To rot in the same old house for decades until my death? Goddess, I don’t even think I have that much time. And while we bat our eyelashes and smile as we accept every offer and donation that is thrown to us, Lily is trying to vanquish the shadows in the worst way possible.”

She closed her eyes and forced herself to let go of the railing to put her hair behind her ears. 

“Maybe I could have done something, had I had the chance. Even if I can’t stop a Dawn, I can summon rain during droughts, sunlight in the winter, anything. But I guess I ruined everything, again. I’m sorry.”

If Luka expected words of consolation or forgiveness from her brother, there was none of it. 

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, as if that way she could make her words carry all the weight she wanted to give them.

“It shouldn’t have ended up like this.” 

There wasn’t anger or resentment, far from it, in his voice, and she knew well that Kyo was being genuine, but she also noticed the careful wording. She hadn’t been forgiven. Not yet. 

“No, Kyo. This was going to end up like this sooner or later,” she said, through the fog she could make up the blurry silhouettes of the men who pretended not to oversee her. “For as long as I can remember, the whole world has had its eyes on me. It was obvious that I was going to end up in a castle and a title before my name. But it was supposed to be, I don’t know, a baron or a duke or something, someone like Leon. I never imagined I would end up here.” 

Which was silly, in hindsight. The queen was never going to give away a source of magic like her. 

“But maybe I can still make some things right,” for as much time as she had left, she thought, but couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. “Galaco can’t ignore the Dawns, she has to let me do something about them.”

“Shit, why is that all you think about?”

“Kyo. Maybe this is for the best,” she spat the words out, as much as it pained her to say them. At least this time her brother deigned to look at her. “For you three, at least. I’ll… I’ll manage, I’ll hold on somehow. You’re still mad at me, I would be too, but even if you don’t believe me, I can still promise I’ll never put you in danger again. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

To her surprise, Kyo put a hand on her shoulder.

“I know you won’t,” he said, but whether that in his voice was disbelief or weariness, she couldn’t discern. “But we should rest, tomorrow will be a terribly long day.”

“Unbelievable. That’s the only thing you people want me to do.”

“And yet it seems to be the only way you won’t cause trouble. Come on, let’s go inside.”

Kyo began to walk, and Luka had no choice but to follow him. Before closing the doors behind her, she wanted to take one last wistful, longing look at the moon, but she couldn’t see beyond the dense clouds that hid it. 

Notes:

Ah, Sibling Banter™
I don't really have an excuse for not updating since August, so, uh. Sorry.

Chapter 5: Opulences such as shoes

When Avanna opened the doors wide, Luka had already been waiting for her, sitting on a chair, looking straight ahead as if challenging her, trying to hide her own fear. 

Avanna, with her usual bright smile, didn’t seem to notice. 

“Good Morning, Saint. I’m glad you’re up this early. But I’m afraid there’s no time to lose, your siblings will have to leave while we dress you up.”

Luka opened her mouth to protest for a few more minutes, Kyo and Kokone hadn’t even woken up yet, after all. But she knew she had no choice when she saw a couple of maids rush her siblings out of their sheets and the room. They, still half-asleep, were too stupefied to resist and could only try to look her in the eye for a second or two before the doors were closed behind them. 

That sorry gesture had probably been their last goodbye. 

“Am I really going to see the Queen?” Luka asked when they were alone, still half expecting to be told it was a lie all along and she was being led straight to the gallows. 

“Indeed, but you should eat something first,” she pushed towards her the serving cart that one of the maids had left on her way out. “The hearing will begin shortly, and you can not show up late before Her Majesty.”

The mere thought sickened Luka, but Avanna seemed as unbothered as if it were a usual part of her routine, with that affable eagerness to serve on her face that seemed almost obsessive, the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth that refused to fade completely. 

Luka knew that was the face of devotion. 

And it never was good news. 

She lifted the tray lid to find fruit cut into intricate shapes, pitchers of juice, water and coffee, cinnamon and sugar cookies, bread, butter and honey, scrambled eggs with bacon, and other dishes. 

“Feel free to ask for anything else.”

“My siblings…?”

“I expected nothing less than the purest disinterest from you. I beg you not to worry, they are being as well cared for as you are.”

Which Luka doubted, as far as she knew they were being thrown into a cell for refusing to abandon her back in Itith, and yet she was sure that whatever fate awaited them was better than hers. 

“I see,” she sighed, then took a slice of peach and put it in her mouth. 

Aavanna nodded a couple of times, as if she had said something particularly wise.

“Perfect. I’ll start preparing your bath, then.”

It seemed like the first good idea she’d said ever since Luka had met her. At the moment, she longed to scrub the dirt and sweat off her skin above anything else. 

Luka was half-heartedly chewing on a slice of buttered bread when Avanna called her again. She was waiting outside when Luka entered the bathroom, but when she tried to close the door, Aavanna stepped forward in a soft but conclusive gesture. 

Before she could ask what she was doing, Aavanna bowed. 

“I must stay here, Saint. It is protocol.”

“What?”

“I beg you’ll forgive any inconvenience it may cause you.”

“You’ll stay,” she repeated breathlessly. 

Avanna nodded. 

“Why? ”

“To keep anyone from entering, of course.” 

The lie must have been obvious even for her, still, the answer was swift and certain. She smiled at her one last time and turned her back to her.
Luka had no option but to trust she wouldn’t move. 

She sighed and clutched the fabric of her blouse between her fingers, the same one she was wearing when Kokone was braiding flowers in her hair just a little over a week ago. It seemed like an eternity since then. She slid one arm through the sleeve, then the other, then pulled it over her head and dropped it to the floor. She took off her pants, boots, and everything else. 

She hadn’t taken her eyes off Avanna, still motionless. In any other situation she would stand out no more than a vase or a piece of furniture, the art of shrinking in on herself and disappearing was one Luka would give anything to possess, but her presence burned in the back of her mind red hot. 

Luka stepped back until her legs bumped against the tub, and slowly got in. The steaming water smelled of lavender and rosemary. The sapphire, which she had refused to take off, seemed to glow under the turbulent water. 

She picked up a nearby sponge and began scrubbing. 

Luka was just finishing washing her hair up, almost beginning to relax, when she thought she heard a whisper. 

“Did you say something?”

“I said… It’s an honor for me to be here, Saint,” Avanna repeated in a low, hesitant, voice. “I shouldn’t talk to you more than necessary, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s an honor to be here, you can’t imagine how much.” 

She was crossing a line, both of them knew so, but she didn’t stop talking.  

“Your very existence is divine, just like the Goddess’.” 

Luka bit her tongue. She hadn’t been a devotee for a long time, but Avanna's words came dangerously close to blasphemy.

“I’m just as mortal as you, maybe even more so,” Luka said cautiously, but she didn’t think there was a right answer for something like this. “You can't believe that. My magic may be… rare, but it’s no good having blind faith in me just because of that.” 

I’ll only end up disappointing you, was what she couldn’t bring herself to say out loud.

A single movement of the head, a change of position so subtle that Luka would not have been able to perceive had she not been staring at her nape for the last few minutes. Avanna was looking sideways at her. 

“You are so humble. We have all seen what you are capable of, deeds only heard of in legends and stories. The very earth revives and thrives beneath your feet” she sighed. “And just when the world needs you most. It’s obvious, don’t you think? I cannot wait until you take back what is rightfully yours and the rise of your new reign.” 

Luka had heard enough, she jumped to her feet and climbed out of the tub, not caring about dripping all over the floor. 

Avanna’s placid expression didn’t change in the slightest, she looked pleased, blissful, even. She placed around Luka’s shoulders the fluffy towel she had been warming between her hands with the magic Luka had been trying so hard to ignore. 

“Besides,” she whispered in her ear. “Did not Lily herself come down from the heavens to confirm it?”

Hadn’t Avanna been holding her, Luka would have fallen down to her knees and burst into tears. 

They left the bathroom and, like a spell dissipating, Avanna went back to normal. 

Luka carried the clothes she had picked up from the floor in her hands, and was about to put her blouse on when she noticed something at the foot of the bed that wasn’t there before. 

She frowned at Avanna, with a nod, she encouraged her to step closer. 

She held her breath as she approached it and gingerly held the dress up to the sunlight, as if it were poisonous. The fabric, pale gold in color, was soft and silken, so smooth it felt like water between her fingers. The thread of flowers and vines embroidered on the skirt and sleeves glistened the way only real gold would. 

“Oh,” she sighed. 

Avanna looked pleased. She helped put it on and fastened the buttons in the back, then she rotated the full-length mirror toward her. It was simple and antique looking, but it looked beautiful even on her. Luka had never considered herself particularly ugly, but… stunning at first glance. With her too-bright eyes and too-smooth skin, so warm it almost glowed. She was mesmerizing until she looked too much and then she wasn’t. She looked uncanny, as if drawn by someone whose only reference of a person was a porcelain doll or Lily’s most stylized portraits, a parody of a human being. 

But she found that now, perhaps, she didn’t look so out of place. 

“Just like I thought, it fits you perfectly,” Avanna said, upon Luka’s quizzical look, she continued. “That dress goes back generations of the Goddess’ descendants, and from what I have been told, it fits each one of them perfectly. 

“I’m not—!”

Avanna shook her head. 

“I beg your pardon, I was only thinking aloud. Such matters are none of my business.” 

Luka was about to point out that it hadn’t stopped her from calling her a Goddess just a few minutes ago, which still made her feel nauseated, but it wasn’t a topic she was eager to return to. It also wasn’t the kind of argument she could have won. She never could. 

So she bit the inside of her cheek as Avanna came over to stir her hair with heated hands to dry and brush it. Then she made her sit on the stool in front of the vanity. She took her chin with two fingers to examine her face. 

“I could not put makeup on you even if I wanted to,” she said as she reached over to the dresser for a small bottle of perfume, and dabbed a few drops behind Luka’s ears and on her wrists. “The queen wants to see your natural face.”

She groomed her eyebrows with a small brush. Luka could have scoffed, her mother used to do that all the time when she was little and forgot to do so in the mornings. At least Avanna hadn’t used her thumb. 

“Almost done,” she said with her tongue between her teeth, then turned back to the bed and picked up another piece of fabric Luka hadn’t noticed before. It was all golden lace, the embroidery matching that of the dress. 

Only when Avanna began to secure it with pins on top of her head did she realize it was a veil. 

“I thought the queen wanted to see my face.”

“And only she and the royal family shall see it.”

“And what about you? What about my siblings? And all the people that have already seen me?”

“A necessary evil, I am afraid.”

Luka looked at the mirror, even through the amber hue her necklace stood out like a flame in the darkness.
She tucked it under her dress before Avanna could decide she better take it off. 

Avanna moved backwards to make sure everything was in order and bowed. 

“You’re ready.”

“Ready?” Luka frowned and picked up her dress to reveal her bare feet. “Yeah, no. I’m pretty sure there’s still something missing.”

Avanna’s smile faltered. 

“The palace floors are always spotless, Saint. Tonight we even made a special effort to clean them again.”

Of course. 

How foolish had she been, so cheerfully accepting holy gowns and royal treatments, but being surprised when she was denied such opulent and excessive luxuries like shoes. She wasn’t the guest of honor at a ball, she was a false icon walking straight into her martyrdom. 

“Do you actually expect me to go barefoot? This is ridiculous. It’s already too much making a spectacle of myself with sacred garments or whatever. I’m going to be judged, aren’t I? If I’m a prisoner, fair enough, treat me like one, but I refuse to be your dancing bear. 

She glanced at the bathroom door, her boots were still in there. She got up to go get them, her hand was already on the doorknob when Avanna spoke again. 

“I will not stop you, then, if it is this what you wish. No one will fault your judgment,” she said softly, something had changed in her voice, she sounded vulnerable. “But you are a saint, the very reincarnation of the Goddess is supposed to walk into the throne room. And she looked like you do now. 

Luka stopped dead in her tracks, did she really have a choice in all this? If she really wanted to, could she just take her clothes from the day before and go to the queen like that? No one would fault her judgment, after all. No one would punish her. 

Maybe not her, but whoever was supposed to make sure she looked pure and divine. 

Luka cursed her compassion. Life wouldn’t be so painful if she cared less about these things. 

“Come on, we can’t be late,” she said as she forced herself to let go of the doorknob. Avanna’s obvious relief made it all almost worth it. 

“Thank you, Saint.” 

Avanna opened the door, and closed it again when they were both outside. Despite the sunlight streaming in through the large windows, the marble floor was cold beneath her feet. If this was her life from now on, she might never get used to it. 

“Please, if you would follow me.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said a third voice. 

Luka spun on her heels to find someone walking towards them, leaning on a cane. In the distance, the first thing she noticed was his strange coat, white and asymmetrical, decorated with blood-red ribbons on the sleeves and collar, the same color as his frizzy hair. 

“Luka Megurine, isn’t it?” the stranger offered her a smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

Whatever Luka might have said died on the tip of her tongue, when he was close enough to see the scar on his face, the solid red of his eye, covering both white and iris. 

She would never complain about hers again. 

“I can’t see your face, but I assume you don’t know who I am,” he said, and then bowed. “My name is Fukase, I’m the last descendant of Lily.”

Ah. 

With the kind of luck she had, she should have imagined it. If truth be told, it was an encounter she was bound to have sooner or later, inevitable since birth. Not that knowing that stopped the cold dread in her stomach. She looked for Avanna, who, silent as a ghost, had retreated to a wall, her gaze glued to the floor. 

“There is talk of you everywhere, you know,” he continued, throwing his head back. “I was at Her Majesty’s side when she heard what had happened. I knew you were on your way, but you arrived a few hours earlier than expected and… accompanied.”

Luka had to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth no matter how hard she tried. She had the sense, at least, to hide her trembling hands behind her back. 

“No one told me you’d arrived,” he continued as if nothing. “I noticed it myself, the palace is hardly ever this agitated. I knew it could only be you.”

“They shouldn't have bothered,” Luke forced herself to blurt out. “I never meant to cause such a fuss.” 

Fukase downplayed it with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. This is, as many other things, just another one of the queen’s whims,” he leaned toward her. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for many years, Luka Megurine. Your mere existence makes people doubt the legitimacy of my blood, my own ancestry, have you heard about it?”

Yes, so many times. And it had brought her nothing but trouble. 

But Luka, again, did not answer. Fukase watched her meticulously, perhaps in the sunlight he could see the outline of her nose through the veil or the glow in her eyes. 

“It may be a problem for us both,” he said at last.

“Fortunately you will have no trouble disproving those rumors when I meet the queen.”

Fukase cocked his head, had they been in any other situation, Luka would have thought he looked amused. 

“Of course. Avanna,” she took an uneasy step forward. “I’ll borrow our saint for a couple of minutes. I’ll see that she gets to our appointment on time. Dismissed.” 

Avanna bowed deeply and disappeared behind a corner. 

“Perfect. Now, if you’d be so kind as to come with me.” 

He didn’t even wait before he started walking, leaving Luka and her protests behind him. She looked at the place where Avanna had been, feeling abandoned. 

“Luka?” Fukase said from down the hall and she, still baffled that he of all people would call her by her first name, followed him. 

This time Fukase stayed in place until he was sure Luka was walking by his side. 

“I know well the dress you’re wearing right now, though I never thought I’d see a stranger in it,” he observed. “I'd supposed I would see it when I had a daughter, maybe my granddaughter, with any luck. Had I been born a woman, I would have worn it myself.”

“It’s not like there’s nothing stopping you from using it,” she retorted and immediately wanted to clap a hand over her mouth. 

To her surprise, it seemed to strike Fukase as funny. 

“Apart from the fact that you’re wearing it? No, I guess not. I should have taken my chance when I hadn’t, shouldn’t I? It should fit me, after all. Maybe It’ll look as good on me as it does on you.”

Then he looked down at her bare feet, and his expression shifted to something that wasn’t entirely pity. Luka wished the skirt were longer. 

“You’ll get used to the frivolities of the palace,” he said, his eyes fixed in front of him. “I went through everything you’re going through, too, as did my father and grandfather and everyone before them. The veils, the worship, the rather inconvenient lack of indumentary, the dull cutlery. It gets worse, actually, but you get used to it. Lucky for me, it seems that thanks to you my days as a saint are numbered.”

Luka halted. 

“Thanks to me?” Sorry if you haven’t heard, but it’s not like I had a choice in any of this and— Goddess, does this get worse?”

“We don’t have much time, I’m afraid. Let’s keep moving.” 

Reluctantly, Luka obeyed. 

Fukase led her through wide corridors until they arrived at a pair of doors flanked by soldiers. With a nod, he told them to let them through. 

“This doesn't look like the throne room,” Luka raised an eyebrow before she could remind herself that Fukase couldn’t see her.

“Because it isn’t. There’s something I want to show you,” he said, but Luka thought it didn’t seem like the most sensible idea, all things considered. He continued. “It’ll only take a couple minutes, you won’t be late.”

The garden she saw when Fukase opened the doors was beautiful, filled with flowers, ponds, fruit trees, and, of course, bees. Though for the first time in her life, they barely seemed to notice her presence. 

“You’re the first person to call me by my name around here,” Luka said as she caught up with him, tip-toeing on top of the path stones. He shrugged. 

“I see no need for formalities. We’re not in such different positions, you and I,” Luka’s dumbfoundedness must have been obvious, because he added. “There’s no reason to pretend otherwise. Call me Fukase, if you like.”

Luka tried to mouth his name, but something about it left a bitter taste on her tongue. It felt wrong. It was all so wrong. Lily had once existed, no doubt about that, but she had been a goddess nonetheless, always ethereal and omnipotent and divine, even since before her death. The boy in front of her looked a few years older than Kyo, scarred and hobbling through the path. 

And yet, aside from her magic, Luka was, too, terribly human, and just how far had that taken her. 

In the center of the garden, watched over by the palace walls, stood the golden tower she had seen from outside the night before, surrounded by at least a dozen soldiers who also seemed oblivious to them. To her surprise, Fukase ushered her inside. 

“This is the place where the Goddess died,” he said, his voice echoing off the high walls. “And where all my ancestors were born. Typically, only me and few more people could enter here. And yet…”

“And yet you brought me here.”

“How perceptive. Indeed, this is the last place in the world where Lily’s magic lingers, which is why the bees don’t seem to bother you as much. Must be a new experience for you.”

“It is,” Luka felt obliged to admit. Then she cleared her throat. “Are you really Lily’s descendant?”

“It would be hilarious if I confessed that I’ve been lying all along, but no. So far I’ve told nothing but the truth.”

“Then…,” Luka started, the question had been burning in the back of her throat for as long as she could remember, but Fukase answered it before she could open her mouth. 

“Our best scholars and thaumaturges have studied your case for years, yet we still don’t know the origin of your magic. I’m sorry.” 

“Oh.”

She knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up, if someone had ever figured out something about her powers she surely would have been the first to know, still, she felt that little bubble of hope in her chest burst. 

“Don’t look so sad. It’s a very special thing that you have, that magic.”

“It’s no blessing.”

“I never said it was, I’m sure it isn’t. Still, it’s rather unique. No one in the kingdom has had it for centuries, maybe millennia, not even me or any of my ancestors. Until now.”

“How can you be so sure it’s really me, then?” Luka asked, eager to change the subject. “What if you’ve been swayed by rumors and kidnapped the wrong girl?”

“The queen doesn’t make mistakes. Or hasn’t made one in a very long time, at least,” he said. “We’ve known about you from the moment you were born, about the bees and the storm you brought and everything else.” 

“Which isn’t creepy at all,” she scoffed. To think she’d been watched like that all her life. Though, in hindsight, it wasn’t surprising, the weird would be if they hadn't. 

But Luka was almost relieved. They didn’t know everything, no way they did. If they knew all she had done, she doubted she would have seen any of the luxuries they had offered her. 

“One might think you’re used to having every move scrutinized by the whole world, I know I am,” with a smile that had just a hint of mockery, he added. “You’ve had nobles coming to your village hidden in the middle of mountains for years now just to pursue you, yes? If everyone knew about you since then, what made you think the queen would be the exception?

For once, Luka was grateful for the veil that hid the blush on her cheeks. 

“Why, then?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself . “Why am I here just now and not for years now?”

“Because of me,” Fukase shrugged matter-of-factly. “Believe it or not, when I was a child the crown made an effort to defend the legitimacy of my ancestry and my reputation. A halfhearted one. But as I left boyhood behind andyour fame only grey, they gave up. Then, I took it upon myself to convince the queen for years to leave you be. I told you, didn’t I? About the frivolities of the palace. I wanted to spare you that, spare myself the trouble of an alleged false identity.”

Luka caught herself staring at him for too long in surprise. 

“Uh, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said, and it seemed to Luka that he choked up as he said it, then his tone softened again. “Don’t thank me if you’re here right now. I should have bought you a couple more years, at least.”

“No, it’s my fault,” Luka said quietly, from up a stained glass, Lily looked down upon her. “I did something stupid.”

I thought I could bring something more than sorrow and false faith to the world, that even someone like me could do something good, she wanted to add, but knew her voice would crack if she tried to say it out loud. 

She was sure Fukase knew well what she had done to Leon, but he was courteous enough not to say anything about it. He kept walking, and didn’t have to utter a word for Luka to follow him. 

They walked through winding spiral staircases and heavy wooden doors that Fukase opened with various keys dangling from his collar, pockets or the inside of his coat until they reached a small, windowless room whose only source of illumination was the dim glow coming from a glass case in the center.

Luka stepped closer. Lying on a cushion the color of mother-of-pearl, was a honey-colored dagger, the magic it was made of so ancient and vibrant it seemed to hum. 

“Do you know what this is?”

“I think… I think so,” said Luka, somewhat blinded by the light bouncing off the pristine white of the walls and floor. “But I never thought I’d get to see it, seems like the kind of relic that gets destroyed or no one ever sees again. 

“Why would we ever lose sight of such a precious treasure? The dagger with which Lily vanquished the shadows. But I suppose not even such a relic is immune to the passage of time.”

She had to squint to see it, and even then she almost couldn’t notice that there, near the tip, it was chipped.

After a few seconds of silence, Luka spoke again.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?”

“I thought you’d like to see it, the last tangible gift from the Goddess. But, in truth, I needed to tell you something in private, and this is one of the only places where we won’t be overheard.”

However, he leaned toward her and lowered his voice. 

“The queen wants you on her side, you will not be hurt,” he said. “But, from one saint to another, her word is law. Do not try to call whatever she decrees into question, nothing good happens to people who cross her, not even those closest to her.”

He backed away as if he had commented on something as trivial as the weather, but his words left a cold omen in Luka’s chest. 

“Anyhow, we shouldn’t stall any longer, I will be at your hearing, too.”

He turned to leave, but Luka was frozen in place, as if she had forgotten how to move. 

“Have… have you crossed the queen?”

Fukase blinked at her a couple of times until he realized what she was referring to. 

“Oh, you mean this?” he pointed to his face with a smile, Luka nodded in embarrassment. “Believe it or not, it wasn’t convenient for the queen to have a disfigured saint, either. No, she didn’t do this to me.”

“But someone did it to you.”

The smile vanished, he meditated for a few seconds before answering. 

“My father. Just before the ceremony in which I took his place,” he said, drumming his fingers on his cane, another trait so ungodlike. “There are more unhinged people here than we’d like to admit, even in positions of power you’d be horrorized to hear people like them being in. I doubt half the court doesn’t know already, however I would appreciate it if you’d keep the secret. My appearance and your existence already bring me enough trouble, and anything that comes out of your mouth will be used against me. 

“Goddess, I’m so sorry.”

“Why? It wasn’t your fault.”

For the last time, he turned around, and Luka supposed he wouldn’t wait for her again even if she asked, so she walked behind him. They left the tower in silence. 

By the time Luka realized it, they were at the end of a long hallway, in front of large, intricately ornate doors. 

Fukase appeared as carefree as ever, glancing at the watch he had pulled out of his coat, and Luka couldn’t help wondering how many pockets the damn thing had. 

“Just in time,” he hummed as he put the instrument away. “I’ll go in from the back. Saint, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. I hope I get to see your face soon.”

He bowed and started walking away. 

“Fukase,” before Luka could think twice about it she had already taken hold of his arm. “Thank you. For everything.” 

Fukase looked bewildered, like the concept of physical contact was that foreign. Then he regained his composure and gave her a smile that even seemed sincere. 

“Please. I’ve never had many people to talk to, I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he took her hand and squeezed it affectionately once before releasing it. “And you’re pleasant company. I'll see you soon, Luka Megurine.” 

As he left, Luka thought he heard him saying “Maybe you really are a blessing,” but she didn’t have time to call him out before he disappeared. 

And so, for the first time she arrived at the palace, she was alone. 

Behind the doors she could hear the quiet murmur of a crowd talking in hushed tones. This was it, no more detours, no more amicable faces that would get her a couple more minutes before she faced whatever fate had in store for her. For one night she enjoyed fine delicacies and luxurious silks and lavish attention, but perhaps the next, and every other, would be spent in the darkness of a cell. 

The muttering fell silent all of a sudden, replaced only by the beating of Luka’s uneasy heart pounding against her sternum. 

A single command echoed through the walls. An icy, smooth voice. 

“Open the doors.”

The start of her new life, what little was left of it. 

The throne room was vast and bright, all windows and tapestries, statues and chandeliers. The colors of the servant’s uniforms around her, the color of bronze, contrasted with the clothes of the other guests, who wore vibrant creams and pastels. 

“Come closer.” 

But Luka was frozen in place, hundreds of eyes fixed on her, where were her siblings? What had they done with them? She couldn’t stand still any longer, but she couldn’t take a step forward before she turned and fled, even with rifles pointed straight at her back. 

She wanted to beg for mercy, to somehow make it all go away. 

But then she saw Fukase, standing solemnly behind the queen. Of course, he had said that their positions were not so different, he had for sure found himself in her same situation at some point. And if he had survived, in spite of a tarnished legacy and the whole world against him, Luka, perhaps, could too. 

Besides, it’s not as if this was all unusual for her. Where was she, after all? These were the same people who had sought her power since she was a child, with their same envious, greedy, and oh so terrible eyes. The only difference was that this time they were all in the same place and, for once, just one person could hurt her. 

So she forced herself to move and put one foot in front of the other. She took one step, then another. She kept her gaze fixed on her reflection on the floor below her, and was grateful that no one could see the terror on her face. 

She didn’t try to look for Kyo and Kokone, frightened that she couldn’t find them, that she was truly alone; but perhaps it would be worse if she did find them. She knew that if she saw them she couldn’t help but freeze, and she feared that if she stopped moving she would never be able to muster enough courage to keep going. 

She felt it took her an eternity to get to the opposite side of the room, and even then it hadn’t been long enough. 

Even she knew her place, she stopped under the light that poured off a skylight over her head. 

She stood before the queen at last. 

Like the rest of the palace, her crown and throne glittered in pure gold, encrusted with pearls, opals, and sapphires. Half of her hair was platinum blonde, the other a warm brown that highlighted her beautiful, cool features. 

She wore a dusty pink robe over a vaporous white dress. An iridescent ribbon, gray at first glance, floated above her shoulders and behind her head, Luka couldn’t imagine the skill such a thing required. The ice on her face was melted by her eyes, an intensity and color that made Luka think of a dying star. 

Fukase was not the only one accompanying her. Her son, also blond and red-eyed, was not too different from her. Unlike his mother, Prince Yohio stood with his hands behind his back. 

To his left was a girl who, like Luka, wore a veil. Much was said about Princess Gumi, that she once possessed great beauty, perhaps greater than Galaco’s, but had been disfigured due to an accident and now had to live hidden and in shame. 

As far as Luka knew, it could well all be false, she knew better than anyone that rumors were easy to spread and, after all, no one knew anything about the alleged event. 

Yet she also knew that Yohio’s birthday was celebrated for a whole week, that his charisma and dreamy smile was the favorite topic of every girl (and boy) in the whole kingdom. Luka had even heard once that it was simply obvious that she would end up marrying him, which snuffed out any spark of interest she may have had in him. 

When Gumi was spoken of, however, it was all in hushed tones and whispers, as if it was something forbidden and her name a spell that attracted misfortune. 

Luka bowed a beat later than she should have, trying to mirror those she had seen so many times in her life. She feared it might have come out rather awkwardly, but at least she found out that it was just as loathsome as being on the receiving end. 

“Reveal your face.”

Galaco’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but, carried by the wind, it could be heard with clarity even at the far end of the room. 

Luka obeyed, hoping the shudder of her hands wouldn’t be noticeable as she took her veil with her fingertips and placed it behind her head. 

“Speak your name.” 

And so she did, but so quietly that she almost couldn’t hear it herself. 

“Luka Megurine,” she repeated louder. 

“Then prove you are who you claim to be.” 

Her first instinct was to lie. 

Maybe if she told them she only controlled water or fire, or nothing at all, they would write it all off as a big mistake and she would go back to Itith with her siblings to pretend none of this had happened, go on with their gray, monotonous lives, continue to rot in her dusty bedroom and never take that normalcy for granted again. 

But she was in too deep now to feign stupidity. And maybe she'd be granted mercy if she gave them the spectacle they loved so.

So she took a deep breath as she clasped her hands together, when she pulled them apart, sunlight shone between them. She had tried to keep it dim and flickering, but the rush of adrenaline and euphoria that the magic fired into her veins was always the same. The light ended up being dazzling and blinding, irradiating the room. 

Luka heard surprised gasps behind her, prayers and cries and knees hitting the ground. 

Although Galaco was squinting, Luka could see her eyes glimmering. 

“Welcome, Luka Megurine. I’ve been waiting for someone like you for a long time, you can’t imagine how much,” she said with delight. “It’s been centuries since anyone has been blessed with the power to wield sunlight, someone truly blessed by the Goddess.”

The insult was unmistakable. Luka glanced at Fukase, who kept his same serene expression as always. Luka pitied him, and wondered just how much he had suffered thanks to her. 

“But that’s not the only reason you’re here.” 

There it was. 

Luka didn’t know if she wanted time to slow down or to speed up (maybe she’d manage to stop it altogether if she tried hard enough), but if she didn’t control the cold sweat that crept down her back and that icy omen in her chest, her fingertips and the floor would start to cover in frost. 

“What happened in the mansion of the Baron of Onisse?”

Luka dared to look at the queen, she was as impassive as a statue. How much did she know about what had happened? The news couldn’t have arrived much earlier than herself, but it was Galaco she was talking about, she must have her own methods. 

Even from where she was, she could feel how people leaned towards her to hear her clearly. 

“I do not remember a lot, Your Majesty,” it was not a lie, her memories of that night were hazy. “I ran to where the Marquis had told me he was staying… because he asked me to help his people. But I lost control of my magic again, I fainted. I did not want to hurt anyone.”

Let me go back , was what she really wanted to say, the only thing she wanted. She knew what she would become if she didn't manage to run away.

For a moment, the queen was silent. 

“Which makes things more difficult,” she said at last. “We could have solved this by now if you had told me you had tried to kill him. That he was cruel and violent. That he had tried to attack you or your people first. No one would have faulted your judgment.”

Luka felt like a punch to the stomach had left her breathless. Had she really expected her to lie? Luka wondered if indeed that would have made things easier, would she be in this situation if she had been clever enough to lie from the start? Was her stupidity, above all else, the reason all this had happened?

“Even the Goddess has killed, but it seems the saint she has sent our way is far more merciful, if the reason she is here is because she wanted to help,” she said, her voice full of cold disbelief, but she did not press the matter further. “You said you lost control of your magic.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty,” Luka said, relieved to be able to change the subject. “For as long as I can remember my magic has only grown, for years now it is more than anyone could control, even drugs have ceased to have any effect.”

“We know well the reaches of your gift, Luka Megurine, worthy of the Goddess herself.”

“Lily may have been a deity, but I am still human,” she snapped, a murmur ran through the room. Not that saying her name in vain was blasphemy, but it was uncommon, almost taboo. “Your Majesty, please, I am dying.” 

If she had been too insolent, too profane, neither the queen, nor anyone else on the dais, showed it. 

“I am aware of that, too. Such seems to be the case of most people here,” she said more slowly than before, and Luka could have torn the hair from her head, that was her answer? “Although, I must admit, your conviction about your own death is a novelty.” 

Galaco stared at her for a minute, and Luka had never felt so naked. 

“We will look into it further, then,” she said. “To verify if what you say is true.”

Luka exhaled the air she didn’t know she was holding, dizzy with something between relief and distress. She didn’t know how easy it all would be to confirm. Her magic would be easy, ask her family or the alchemist who managed to get them enough Navoran on a daily basis to poison an entire village every month or so, anyone who had lived in her town for a couple of years. 

Proving that she hadn’t attacked Leon would be more complicated. As far as she could remember, she had   barged into Onisse’s mansion like a lunatic, terrorizing everyone in her path just to get to the Marquis. 

“And,” Galaco added, bringing Luka’s attention back to her. “You need not concern yourself with the welfare of others, since you will be trained in my palace so that no such accident will happen again.” 

Luka didn’t fail to notice the choice of words. Train her. Like a dog. Teach her to roll over and to stand up on her hind legs, rip out the jugular of the person they point at. 

How she hated it when Kokone was right. 

“If she has been truly blessed by the Goddess, then surely she cannot wield shadows,” someone else chimed in. 

Everyone turned to Gumi. Yohio looked nervous. Galaco narrowed her eyes.

“Daughter,” at first glance it seemed like permission to speak, but Luka knew that tone well. It was a warning.

But Gumi said nothing, and it took Luka a moment to realize she was looking at her, waiting for an answer.

“N-no, Your Highness," she stammered, "I do not control darkness.”

She did not control darkness. 

Water, earth, fire, air, everything yielded before her with a single thought, less than that most of the time, everything except shadow. 

Not for lack of trying, sometimes, when she was young and overwhelmed by the heat inside her veins that would not die out no matter how much ice she added to her bathtub, she would stare into the darkest corners of the room waiting for something to happen. Not even she knew what exactly. But if she discovered that she could control the darkness after all, maybe, just maybe, she would find shelter from the radiance that burned her from the inside out.

But then she would not be a saint.

And yet saying it aloud made her doubt the one thing she had known for certain about her magic all her life. She fixed her gaze on her shadow at her feet and flexed her fingers. As she expected, nothing happened.

“You claim hurting Marquis of Thesan was not your intention.”

“It was the last thing I wanted, Your Highness,” she said, wondering how many times she would have to repeat it, if they would this to control her for the rest of her life. “I swear.”

“Likewise, I assume you would swear not having wanted to hurt us should any of us be next someday.” 

This time the crowd erupted in an indignant uproar. Luka herself would have shouted with them had she not been mute with staggerment. This was all she had wanted to say all along, but where she had been trying to choose the most careful phrasing, Gumi had gone ahead and put it in the worst way possible. Her accusation was a serious one, capable of leaving her in an even worse place than she already was in. 

Galaco's anger, hardly suppressed behind her eyes, was what silenced the hysteria.

“I would not dare accuse you of plotting against the royal family,” she said as if it were a consolation, but little did it do for Luka’s nerves. “But if what you say is true, I do not believe it is unreasonable to think we are all in danger as long as you do not have control over your magic.”

It wasn’t, still, Luka felt shame creeping up her face. She tried to keep her breathing even. 

Then, as if Gumi had just remembered she was still sitting next to her, she addressed the queen. 

“Please, Your Majesty, I know what you are thinking, but we do not know anything about her magic. At this moment, at least, it is too dangerous to have her around.” 

Galaco seemed to spit out her next words. 

“Say what you have in mind, then.”

It was unnoticeable for anyone farther away from Gumi than Luka, but she saw her take a deep breath before speaking. 

“I think we have been trying to do things our own way for too long, trying to find an answer we may not even have in the first place,” she said. “And if we have run out of options, it is time to step aside and let the shadows help Luka Megurine.” 

No. It couldn't be true.

Luka had never feared the dark in the same way she had never been afraid of the monsters under her bed: neither existed for her, not when what had surrounded her all her life had been blinding light. 

Besides, she knew that the real monsters lived far away from her, and they did not like to be disturbed. 

For the first time since she arrived, Galaco shifted on her throne to scrutinize her daughter. If Gumi was nervous or sorry she had opened her mouth at all, she didn't show it. Her hands rested lightly in her lap, her breathing was regular and, of course, she was still wearing the veil behind which Luka wanted with so much fervency to hide again.

“You really think this will work,” it wasn’t a question any more than it was an accusation.

“You know it better than anyone, Majesty,” Gumi answered. “Maybe they know a way to actually help her.” 

Galaco settled back and turned her head upward with her eyes closed, perhaps a quick prayer, or already started to regret what she was about to do. She sighed as she looked back at Luka.

“Gakupo Kamui, Duke of Edryae, come forward.”

Luka didn't dare turn around, but she sharpened her hearing so much that she thought she heard the footsteps of a crowd clearing a path, the rustle of cloth as they walked, a woman's muffled cry of horror.

“My daughter is right in saying that you possess knowledge you refuse to share, but is the faith she places in you justified?” 

A pause so long it seemed like an eternity. The whole room seemed to hold its breath, but Luka felt he would not have been able to breathe even if she had wanted to.

“Such a case has never been heard of, Your Majesty,” said a deep, silky voice that sent shivers down Luka’s spine. “It is impossible for anyone to promise significant results. 

Galaco pursed her lips, “But you can do something.” 

Another pause. 

“Yes, my queen.”

Luka’s hands were fists at her sides, afraid she knew where this was going. She had been wrong. There was a fate even more dreadful than what she had imagined. 

“It is decided, then,” Galaco declared, though although judging by her tone she might as well be ceding her lands to an enemy nation. “You will take Luka Megurine in your duchy as a ward to help her control her magic. One year should be enough, yes? 

Say no, Luka found herself pleading. I don’t even know you, don’t do this to me. 

“Yes, my queen,” were, however, the words that came out of Gakupo Kamui’s mouth. 

Luka could have screamed until she shattered the windows. 

She wasn’t stupid enough to think you had a choice when the queen asked you for something. But Gakupo was a kin of the shadows, the antithesis of everything this place stood for, Luka figured if there was anyone in the whole world that could challenge Galaco, it was him. 

“What about my family?” she blurted out, to hell with Fukase’s advice. “What will happen to them?”

Galaco raised her eyebrows almost unnoticeably. 

“They will be sent back to Itith. For your own sake you shall not keep in contact with any of them, nor anyone outside your instruction or the Court.” 

Luka was about to protest, but the queen stood up, and Luka knew the decision was final.

“We are done here. Everyone, out.”

Luka heard the doors reopening, the incredulous silence, and people leaving. Fukase looked as bewildered as she felt, but he regained his composure enough to signal her to put the veil back on. 

No sooner had she done so when she heard her name being called out. 

This time nothing could stop her from running to her siblings, forgetting all the pretense and sanctity and the fact that the queen was still right behind her. 

They wrapped her in a hug and Luka had to wipe away her tears with the back of her hand. 

“You aren’t leaving,” Kokone comforted her, though she also sounded on the verge of tears. “We’ll fix this. We’ll fix this somehow and everything will go back to normal.”

Luka tried to believe her, she really did. But her words felt like lies. Still, she snuggled between Kyo and Kokone’s shoulders and closed her eyes, like she did when she was little and problems were as easy to solve as that. 

But, as if in a nightmare, the horrors that had never haunted her as a child materializing, a silhouette crept toward them, and Kyo clung to her tighter. 

“This can’t be true, the queen can’t expect to send you to…”

Gakupo Kamui passed them by, glancing at them out of the corner of his eye. Beneath the hood, Luka could see his face only for a second, but it was enough to make her feel that the world was collapsing around her, it wasn’t the long purple hair or eyes, nor his cruel features or his stern demeanor. 

It was the horns. 

Notes:

ngl kinda mad at the fact that solaria was released *after* i started writing this mess (affectionate).

it was there. it was right there but she had the nerve not to exist before i decided to click post smh my head

as a fun fact: in one of black sun's earliest drafts (that wasn't even black sun, it was an entirely different fic from which i recycled like half of the plot for black sun lol) fukase and luka were besties and their chemistry was ✨ unparalleled ✨ i tried to replicate it as well i as could but it isn't quite the same < / 3

Chapter 6: Unwise ideas

Gakupo

The world used to be covered in shadows. 

Then, of course, came Lily and brought the light with her. Legends described honey-colored skies, rivers that shone with light of their own, trees of golden leaves and fruit, the kind of prosperity that existed only in stories. 

Such an artificial, blinding world it was. And it was Aria, with darkness curling around her fingers and control over shadows never seen before, the one that dared stand up to it, the only one capable of doing so. 

Her bravery ended up getting her killed. 

It was a bitter, painful end, not being able to protect what she loved and rightfully belonged to her. And so, in her last moments, she unleashed all the power she had left against the corruption that Lily had created. 

Witnesses claimed to have seen the indistinct figure of a beast amid the dark haze that arose around her. The sun that hung in the sky became black as ink, the ground beneath her feet was forever marked by her birth, and her death. 

She was the first Black Sun. 

The burst of black magic and those lands that now the sun itself seemed to avoid were the edge they needed to protect that tiny place, their last remaining home. 

A mage loyal to their cause was granted that same power, but Aria’s magic had been corrupted by that cursed dagger. He attempted to wield his new gift, but died shortly after turning into a beast. 

Without anyone there to protect them, his entire family was killed, and everyone close to him, for good measure. But he was not the last bearer of Aria’s power. 

Every couple of generations a bearer was born, indistinguishable from the other children with horns, scales, and extraordinary ability to manipulate shadow. But they were the only signs of the Black Sun. 

And the Crown would not allow another catastrophe like that of Aria. 

Gakupo was the first in who knew how long to reach adulthood. And that terrible loneliness, that immense emptiness that ached like a wound and clung to him no matter where he went was all he saw in Lily’s supposed virtue and her legacy, hands stained with innocent blood, self-indulgent displays of sainthood. 

Case in point was the girl standing mere feet away from him.

Her back was turned, so he had only been able to see the faint outline of her face through the veil as she passed him by. But she was everything he would have imagined Lily had been in life. Beautiful. Regal. So brilliant and powerful that she could well kill them all with a flick of her wrist. 

He could feel her radiating magic even from where he stood, it reminded him of burning fire or the electricity in the air during a thunderstorm just before being struck by lightning. 

And to think this had all been a coincidence. It was rare that Gakupo traveled to the capital on matters of diplomacy: no one wanted him there, and he despised the whole place, too. However, the news that Luka was on her way to the palace reached the queen just before Gakupo departed back to his duchy, so he could not hide his surprise when Galaco asked him with unusual eagerness to stay a couple days longer. 

Now he understood she had wanted him to see her, to rub in his face her brand new toy that had the power to destroy everything he had fought for. 

He didn’t miss, either, the almost imperceptible gleam in Galaco’s eyes that seemed vaguely catlike to him. Had he not been observed with those same eyes, once, he surely would not have recognized it. 

The girl was dying, moreover.

She had said it herself, but Gakupo had guessed it before she opened her mouth. Her feet were bare, but there was something about her gait that made it seem as if she were dragging chains, spoke in exhausted, tormented whispers. She breathed as if she couldn’t get enough air. Something about her was abnormal and twisted in a way he could not explain, but it sickened him. 

And now it was his duty to do something that not even the most skilled thaumaturgists and doctors had been able to do. Many times he had overcame the impossible, in spite of the world against him, and in spite of himself, but his luck was not infinite, and if this was what he was up against, he was ultimately out of miracles. 

He bit his tongue. 

“I request an audience with Her Highness Gumi,” he forced himself to spit. All he had wanted for a week already was to go home. 

If Galaco was surprised by his request, he didn’t know, but he knew that, behind her veil, Gumi had raised her eyebrows. 

“Well,” the queen replied after a second of meditation. “There are several things that still need to be discussed in any case.”

Then she turned her gaze to the three figures behind him that he had been trying to ignore. He forced himself not to turn to them as well. 

“Luka Megurine, you are to leave at once with the duke as soon as we are done here. We will arrange a carriage back to Itith for your family. Keep your face covered.”

“Your Majesty—" a male voice began.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” she interrupted.

If Gakupo expected shouts or crying, there was none. He heard only footsteps and a lonely door opening and closing. 

He closed his eyes and took a breath. He would never get used to this. 

“Leave us alone,” Galaco said before he could even begin to form any words. “All of you”

“I beg your pardon?” he blurted out before he could think twice.

Yohio and Fukase, always prudent, obeyed immediately. Gumi should have been smarter, but she didn’t move from her seat.

“Mother…”

“Obey your queen, Gumi,” she said without looking at her. Gumi was silent for a couple of seconds, but nodded.

“Yes, mother.”

She was gone just like that. 

It took all of Gakupo’s restraint to keep his face expressionless. Only the queen and he remained, and, of course, all the overly defensive guards ready to fire at one bad move away. 

“I thought I would speak to the princess,” he chose his words carefully, hoping that all his frustration would not be evident in his voice.

“There is nothing you need to discuss with her. I should be your top priority here.”

“Of course, my queen,” he said. “I just wanted to know why.”

Galaco narrowed her eyes. 

“My daughter is too clever for her own good, or everyone’s convenience, for that matter. You know that better than anyone,” she dismissed the thought with a flick of her hand. Behind his back, Gakupo clenched his fists. “Her ways have always been less than orthodox, but I did not agree to her idea to please her. We have tried to help Megurine many times already. Even despite the opposition of Fukase and his father, we have sent numerous thaumaturgists  and doctors to Itith over the years. As her previous demonstration with Leon has shown, they have not been particularly effective. Believe me, if you were not our last hope, neither of us would need to be in this situation.”

“I understand,” he said. “However, I am compelled to say that I still find it an unwise idea. I beg you to reconsider.”

This time, Galaco cocked her head to one side with intrigue. A gesture so similar to Gumi’s own. 

“And so your true colors show,” she said, as if she had made a great discovery. “An unwise idea… for whom, for you? I’m sure a mage as talented as you would have no trouble preventing a girl from making another mess. After all, you should know a thing or two about that yourself. Or perhaps you mean an unwise idea for Miss Megurine? Because I have no doubt that you will not let our precious saint to be in the slightest danger. If so, the consequences would be complicated. Not only for you.”

Floating over her shoulders, the gray ribbon still surrounded the queen’s slender, vulnerable neck. Gakupo’s fingernails marked crescent moons on his palms, he had to exhale slowly not to let his intent show in his eyes. 

Above all things, Galaco was obstinate, he would find no way to convince her. 

“Of course it’s a reckless idea. It’s insane and moronic and I’d be surprised if it doesn’t end in disaster. But we ran out of orthodox ideas years ago,” she spat. “Gakupo Kamui, I don’t trust you. Regardless, I expect you to do a good job, even if it comes out of self-interest. Dismissed.”

Again, he was disregarded with a flick of her wrist, and Gakupo knew that was the end of the discussion. As if she hadn’t just sentenced him. He bowed and left. 

He held his head high as he walked through the halls. Soldiers clutched their weapons tighter as they watched him pass, servants and nobles alike dared not go near him. It was still the same after so many years, and he had to resist the temptation to lower his hood, let everyone see the monster walking through their hallowed castle. 

He would have to find Luka Megurine and drag her to perfectly unknown lands, where she was feared, if not outright hated by the people, try to find a non-existent cure and hope not to be killed by a flash of light in the attempt. Of course. Easy. 

He was about to turn the corner when he heard a familiar voice behind him. 

“Duke of Edryae.”

Once, he would have found it comforting. 
He turned around faster than was dignified, but by then the silhouette was already walking in the opposite direction.

How he hated playing cat and mouse. 

At a distance so large that sometimes he feared he’d lose her track, they traversed corridors and galleries and ballrooms, dodging guards and intrusive eyes. Finally, she opened the door to a room and went in, Gakupo waited a minute to make sure no one was watching and entered as well. 

Gumi had once stood taller than him, and even now she carried herself as if Gakupo didn’t loom over her. The days of having to look up to meet her eyes were as far behind him as the last time he had actually seen her face. 

“You’re still good at sneaking around.”

He imagined Gumi frowning. 

“You wanted to talk to me, what do you want? No one can see us together.”

“I want to know why,” he spat, gesturing around him with both arms. “I get it if you still hate me, but just signed my death penalty. What you seek is impossible, and you know what your mother will do to me when I fail to give it to her. I thought you were better than this.”

“My proposal comes from no desire for revenge or from past grudges,” she said in what was a passable imitation of her mother’s coldness, he might have scoffed. “I did it for my kingdom, because I truly believe Luka’s magic can help us, and I wish to prevent the death of an innocent girl as much as anyone,” she lifted her chin and added. “Everyone except for you.” 

Gakupo narrowed his eyes. 

“That innocent girl hurt a man that could be dead as we speak.”

“And are you in any position to criticize her?” she asked. “I didn’t know the marquis mattered so much to you, anyway.”

“I care about my people, my home, my legacy. Your beloved saint jeopardizes all of that,” he said. “This whole place could come crashing down upon itself for all I care, you should know better than anyone how an awful idea this is.”

“Sending Luka to your duchy? It’s only a logical solution, if you ask me. I’m surprised no one had mentioned it before.”

“Because you’re the only idiot who would think of sending a so-called messiah to cursed and corrupt lands.”

It was a low blow and Gakupo knew it. However, he did not find a change in Gumi’s gentle breathing nor did her voice break. Perhaps he would have succeeded in offending her if he were anyone else, or maybe if she wasn’t so stubbornly proud of what she had just arranged. 

“I don’t think your lands are cursed. You don’t think so yourself,” she cocked her head. “I think you can help her in the same way water extinguishes fire or mountains stop hurricanes. It’s possible that your darkness can put out some of her light. It suits you, really. Play your cards right and maybe you’ll be able to win my mother’s favor.”

“You talk as if you really believe it. You can throw water at your chimney. You can, perhaps, command all the earth elementals in the capital to raise mountain ranges to contain a tempest. But I don’t know what you suggest I do with the girl. I can’t infuse her in shadow,” he said. “And win Galaco’s favor? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Gumi sighed. 

“You’ll find a way. You always come out unscathed anyway,” she reached under her veil to tuck her hair behind her ears. “Are we done here? People will get suspicious if we disappear for too long, and we both have enough to worry about.” 

No. 

There was no way they were done. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her about how foolish she was being, how doomed he was because of her. This was not the smart and sensible Gumi he had known so well. 

But she was her mother’s daughter, and if there was one thing she had inherited from her, it was her stubborness. Still better than her cowardly brother, at least. So Gakupo said nothing. 

“Good. Make sure you go out the other door after I’ve gone. It shouldn’t be far from where Saint Megurine will be waiting for you.”

She turned around, after a few seconds of hesitation, she spoke again. 

“Maybe your anger is justified. Hate me, if you need to, you may be right to do so. But Luka is not to blame for anything, be gentle with her. It would do you both good.”

Just like that, Gakupo was alone again. 

Maybe Gumi was trying to win Galaco’s favor, too. 

He waited for a couple of minutes leaning against a wall, turning the matter over in his mind. He thought about the last thing she had said to him. Gentleness. There was no such a thing in the world for people like them. 

When he could no longer bear to remain still, he left the room. He didn’t quite remember the area of the palace Gumi had brought him to but, just as she said, it wasn’t long before he heard the same voice from the throne room just before he turned the corner. 

“… Promise it.”

He hadn’t meant to, but stopped in his tracks anyway and sharpened his ear. 

“You can’t be serious,” the other female voice said. “Is this your plan? To leave you at the mercy of a demon while we go home like it’s nothing?”

“What else can we do? After everything that happened, everything I did… Maybe it’s what I deserve. You deserve better, too. You’ll be better off without me.”

“There must be another way,” the male voice, this time. “Luka, you don’t deserve this.”

A pause. 

“I told you yesterday, this is the only thing there is for me. But I never thought…”

Gakupo decided to spare them the self-pitying sacrificial scene. If, even in spite of her revulsion to her own magic and everything she had caused, the girl believed herself to be a martyr or—Aria forbid—Lily’s chosen one or whatever, then she was truly a hopeless case. 

He stepped forward into the light. The brother clung to her shoulders as if she would dissolve away the second he let her go, the sister held her hands tight enough to turn her knuckles bone white. Both had tear-stained faces and bloodshot eyes. 

Her back was turned to him. 

“Megurine, if you would please come with me.”

Until then none of the three seemed to have noticed his presence. Instinctively, the brother pulled his sisters closer to him, with no intent of letting either of them go. The older sister had shrunk in on herself. 

“Kyo,” said the girl. He didn’t answer. “Kyo. I’ll be fine.”

Even so, the effort it took him to loosen his grip was evident. The girl, too, struggled to take a couple of steps away from them. 

“Of course you will,” he said, and to Gakupo’s surprise, the eyes he looked up at him with burned with rage. “You’ll come back home. Everything will go back to normal.”

Gakupo had to acknowledge his courage, at least, a lot of people dared even speak when he was nearby. But he was in no mood for this.  

“No time to lose, I’m afraid. Miss Megurine?”

Defeated, she put the veil back on, and turned to him. She took a shaky step forward, he could see the tip of her bare foot. The thought of leaving just like that seemed too terrible for her to bear, however, because in a second she spun on her heels to throw herself in the arms of her siblings. 
This time Gakupo averted his gaze, ignoring the hiccups and sobs. 

He waited one, two, three minutes, as much as he would have loved to cough for them to hurry it up. It was the last time she would see her loved ones, the last glimpse of familiarity before she was torn away from them, maybe forever. 

He could see out of the corner of his eye the sister put her mouth to the girl’s ear to whisper one last thing to her. 

She peeled away from them with effort and walked towards him with an uneasy gait, until they were a mere three feet away. He observed her for a second, then turned around and began to walk. After all, the impression of her magic was strong enough—even now, it seemed to burn white hot—for him to notice if she strayed too far from him, though he would love to be able to save himself the trouble of chasing after her if she did decide to escape. 

The ceilings of the palace were high and most of the windows were wide open, still, it was a relief to step outside its suffocating walls and find the chariot with its emblem on the doors. He longed to climb into it and disappear already. 

“Your Excellency,” said what must have been the only friendly voice for a hundred miles around. 

She bowed to him. Even after all this time, the gesture still seemed foreign to him, something he could never get used to. Especially when it was Meiko’s indomitable soul yielding to him, of all people. 

As always, she wore her black armor with red accents and her sword at her hip. Her neck-length hair framed her face and dauntless brown eyes. 

“Meiko.”

“I didn’t know you would come back accompanied,” she said in a cautious tone.

“Neither did I,” he sighed. “Surely you’re already familiar with Lily’s beloved daughter. By the Queen’s decree she is to spend a year in Edryae.”

Meiko blinked a couple of times, then she seemed, indeed, to recognize her. 

“Oh,” she breathed, then added. “Well, that explains this.”

She approached them, until then Gakupo hadn’t noticed her hands behind her back. 

“I’ve been asked to give this to you.”

Luka startled when Meiko handed her what she was holding. It was, inexplicably, a pair of ragged leather boots. 

“But this…” said the girl, her voice cracking. “Who…?”

“A girl with black hair, didn’t catch her name. Might have been a maid.”

“Avanna.”

She received the shoes gingerly, then held them close to her chest, as if she feared he would take even that from her. 

Meiko opened the carriage door and bowed her head politely. Gakupo stood still in place until the girl at last seemed to realize she was supposed to enter first.

She got on the running board with apprehension, then vanished into the darkness of the vehicle. Gakupo turned to Meiko, who was watching him out of the corner of her eye, waiting for orders. 

He didn’t have to say anything for her to understand, however. Meiko nodded again and climbed into the chariot herself. Usually she would accompany him anyway, but he planned to make sure there was no no way he wasn’t left alone with Luka. 

It was his turn. Before closing the door behind him, he took one last glance at the palace, from where dozens of eyes had his eyes on him. He knew they would follow him. No one was stupid enough to leave the carriage hauling the kingdom’s most precious person, perhaps even more than the queen, unprotected. 

He slammed the door shut. 

It was always a relief to leave, even since the first time. Even now, with the deity huddled in the furthest corner, putting on boots, it was a little easier to unclench his jaw.

Meiko sat next to him with a very straight back and her fingers intertwined very neatly on her knees. Gakupo reached out of the window to signal to the driver they were ready to depart, then drew the thick curtains closed. He heard the herding of the horses, then they set off. 

Once en route, it was hard not to examine his new guest, in view of the fact that there was not much else to do. Thanks to the flickering light of the lamp swinging overhead, he could see glimpses of her features behind the veil. But not enough to actually discern her appereance or any particular detail, he had no face to attach responsibility for ruining his life to. 

What he did notice was how much she shrank in on herself, as if she thought she could become small enough to disappear. He was close enough, too, to catch a faint scent of lavender. 

“Where are we going?” she asked in a low voice.

“To the northeast, to my duchy. It’s almost five days away from here,” he answered without taking his eyes off her. It was too close to the capital, if you asked him. “I assume you still mark it in your maps, yes?” 

The girl did not answer. Gakupo didn’t speak either. 

For another hour the silence was dense enough to cut through with a knife. Gakupo glanced at Meiko, who still looked as cool as a statue. He knew her well enough to know that she was capable of remaining in the same position for hours on end. Maybe she would. 

“Will you uncover your face?” he asked this time. He couldn’t help it. 

Until that moment the girl’s gaze had been glued to the hands in her lap, now she looked at him with what he guessed must have been trepidation. 

“No one here is ruled by Lily’s dogma, not even you, going by what I heard during your trial. You wouldn’t break any rule.”

Luka stared at him for a minute, as if trying to guess his intentions. Although he was the one from whom Meiko had learned to hide her emotions so well, he couldn’t help feeling particularly naked this time. 

She complied, much to his surprise. With her long fingers she removed the veil from her face and, for the first time, Gakupo was able to see her clearly. 

Faint shimmering trails like stardust marked traces of dried tears across cheeks as smooth as porcelain. She had a small mouth and soft pink lips, but all he could think of were those big golden eyes he had only seen in paintings and nightmares. 

Shit. 

Her previous sunlight demonstration had been burnt in his corneas, had felt its heat in his skin and could remember it all vividly, and yet he still hoped there might have been some way in which it was all a lie, a trick of the eye, whatever could have made him think there was a sliver of hope for him, like a fool. But this confirmed his worst fears. He still didn’t believe that the girl in front of him was whatever everyone else thought she was, but her relationship with the Sun, or worse, with Lily herself, was now undeniable. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse. 

He forced himself to nod.

That was the end of the conversation. The rest of the trip was rather silent, with no more words exchanged than strictly necessary, something Gakupo was grateful for, it was easy when most questions could be answered with a motion of the head. They stopped only to change horses, eat, and stretch their legs. In the horizon he could almost see all the carriages they had sent to follow them, and among the trees he could have sworn having heard the rustle of hidden escorts.

For once, he couldn’t blame them. But he didn’t feel protected. He knew that, if worse came to worse, they would leave him for death and rip the girl from his cold dead grasp. 

He did not insist when she refused to leave the carriage, nor when she politely set aside the pouch filled with dried meat and nuts Meiko had offered her. He knew well the knot her stomach must have twisted itself in. He himself had felt it the first time. For weeks on end he had also refused to eat whatever was put on his plate out of the fear it was poisoned. 

Of course, he eventually got fed up with having to forage for his own food. He wasn’t good at hunting or stealing back then, much less with all those eyes on him. But that’s where his stealth had come from. 

Not like it mattered, in the end the cooks were able to convince him their meals were safe, and judging by the fact wasn’t in fact dead, they had been sincere. 

And, meanwhile, the girl was being consumed both by magic and her own terror. It was bad enough for him to see it at a glance. Even despite the constant dread, fleeting, shallow sleep overcame her. She would wake up so startled each time, so confused, as if she couldn’t quite process the fact that this wasn’t a nightmare she could escape from. Then she would look at him and remember everything, and it was as if a dense black cloud fell over her. 

The fatigue was palpable by the time they approached Edryae. The girl kept fidgeting with the fabric of her golden dress between nervous fingers, and even Meiko didn’t seem to notice the faint wrinkle that had formed between her brows, her perfect posture faltered ever so slightly before she fixed it with a start. And Gakupo always underestimated how much he abhorred tight spaces until he was forced to sit still in one. They were like cages, and during the entire journey it had been almost impossible to resist the urge to break down the door and flee. 

He only felt he could breathe again when he began to recognize the shapes of rocks and trees and even the reassuring change in the air. It was not only the comfort of familiarity, but also the certainty that any knights in golden armor and emblems of suns on their shields would stop following soon. At least most of them would. 

He said nothing to the girl when she warily approached the end of the seat and pulled back the curtains just enough to get a glimpse of her surroundings. No good would come out of the rumors that would inevitably spread if anyone noticed the single golden eye peering out from his carriage, but it must have been four in the morning, and he was too exhausted to reprimand her, especially when it was the first sign of drive she had shown in days. 

He instructed the chauffeur to take them through the most secluded road possible. 

The further they continued, the more apparent Luka’s restlessness became, her legs bounced up and down, and kept shooting uneasy glances at the curtain, not daring to touch it anymore. 

She was the first to jump out as soon as the carriage stopped dead in its tracks. Meiko also climbed out, keeping a few cautious steps away from her, with catlike agility. Gakupo remained still for another minute, holding his head in his hands. 

By the time he came out Luka was already meters away from him. The soft green grass beneath her feet stood out against the stormy sky that stretched for miles and miles overhead. 

Against the wind that disheveled her hair and lifted her dress above her knees, she approached a rustic fence made of stone, the only thing separating her from the edge of the cliff she stood on, low enough to step over it without effort. 

Blood howled in his ears, tension built up in his legs, in his back, in case he had to run after her, in case Meiko wasn’t fast enough. 

But Meiko was always fast enough, and, in any case, the girl put a hand to her mouth, but otherwise remained still. 

Gakupo wondered if it was the first time she saw the sea. 

He saw Meiko approaching cautiously toward her, and said something he didn’t hear, then placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, urging her to walk. 

Only after making sure his knight would take care of her, Gakupo went ahead. 

His castle had seen better days. It loomed like a ragged line against the dimly lit sky. It was an ancient thing, too. At least the foundations were, perhaps built at the same time as Galaco’s palace, and designed for war and for all his ancestors had to endure. Each time he ran his fingers over the worn bricks he seemed to be able to feel all the scars of the fortress, all its history. It helped him not to forget. 

The gates opened without him having to touch them, and the guards that flanked them and bowed their heads as they saw him enter, he nodded to acknowledge their presence. 

He couldn’t bring himself to be surprised when he noticed Len already waiting for him at the back of the room. He bowed to him as well, but Gakupo didn’t stop to talk to him, so he followed with his light step that characterized him so. 

“Your Excellency,” he greeted him with a polite smile that was usually contagious. Not this time. “It took you longer than expected to return. I feared I would have to start looking for a successor. Or perhaps I could have worn a purple wig.”

“And your sister’s high heels, otherwise nobody will believe I suddenly shrunk thirty whole centimeters” (“Thirty?!” Len said.) He continued, trying to hide all the weariness in his voice. “As if I could afford to die. I planned to leave as soon as I could, but Galaco insisted I stay.”

“Galaco insisted you stay?”

“You’ll understand soon enough. For now, it’s an issue of channeling. Do something for me,” he said after a few seconds of hesitation. Megurine had no control over her magic. Glowing, lethal magic, for that matter. He had put everything he had fought for all his life in grave danger and was an idiot for letting any of it happen in the first place. “Get the box from the storage room in the east wing. You know where the keys are.”

This time Len’s easy-going pace faltered. 

“Ah, that,” he knew better than to question him, that every decision he made was deliberate and final. He must have assumed, thereof, that there was no danger in asking about the situation. “Your Excellency, what’s going on?”

If he really expected an answer, he didn’t get one. Under Gakupo’s stern gaze, he bowed again and headed out. 

During the few seconds between Len’s departure and new footsteps approaching, he closed his eyes, trying to sort out his turbulent thoughts. He had had more than a week since the trial to think of a solution, a real one, but he was as close to reaching it as he had been at the beginning. 

He turned around, and found her only a couple of steps behind Meiko, and under the panic in her eyes he thought he saw something akin to defiance. A challenge that would take all his willpower not to accept. 

Meiko curtseyed and respectfully stepped to the side, leaving them facing each other. Gakupo could have said something, should have said something, but search as he might he could not find the right words, what was there to say?

The silence remained sharp and unperturbed and dense until Len returned, carrying in his hands a box draped in black velvet. He shot him a nervous glance, Gakupo nodded. 

Len placed the box on a nearby table and removed the cloth covering it. Sheltered by glass, resting on a purple cushion, were two bracelets gleaming like onyx. 

Except that Gakupo knew what they resembled. Bracelets didn’t usually cover almost the entire forearm, they were not heavy or thick like chains. He was sure that, from seeing the intricate carvings on them, anyone would mistake them for those floral patterns that had become the latest fashion on women’s skirts and walls of elegant mansions. 

They were not accessories. 

Len’s hands did not tremble as he inserted the key into the lock, nor as he opened the box and gently set the lid aside. 

Then he seemed to notice Luka’s presence in the room for the first time, his gaze roamed over the boots, the dress, the veil, the eyes glittering like gold. Understanding darkened his face as he realized who was in front of him, and what he had been ordered to do. 

He turned to confirm his suspicions, he only nodded. Len’s effort not to grimace was palpable, but didn’t dare hesitate again. Gakupo, after all, had given him a task. 

Taking a deep breath, Len carefully took both bracelets in both hands, then turned to Luka and bowed politely. 

“Miss,” he said in a tone of voice that was part caution, part guilt, and part something else that Gakupo could not identify. “If you would allow me…”

Luka blinked a couple of times before realizing that he was addressing her, that he was asking her to hold out her arms. Instinctively, she crossed them over her chest, like they were planning to rip them right off. 

“What are those?”

“Ancient runes, created by my ancestor,” Gakupo replied in a cold voice. “The runes hinder magic better than any elixir or drug. If all that is said about you is true—”

“They’re shackles,” she breathed with something between panic dread and indignation. “What you want to put on me are shackles.”

Gakupo didn’t feel he could argue against that. 

“I beg you to cooperate.”

"Do you have any idea what you’re asking of me?” You’re crazy if you think I’ll let myself be rendered helpless in a castle full of—"

The sentence hung in the air, but the intent was clear. Gakupo amused himself wondering which word she had intended to use, monsters? Demons?

“And you?” he asked. “Do you have any idea what I am asking of you? That the arguably most powerful person in the kingdom who has just broken into my home should channel her magic so as not to repeat the history of the poor Marquis of Thesan?

The girl folded in on herself as if she had been punched in the stomach, the color in her face had been replaced by deep pain and embarrassment. But his point had come across. 

“Len,” Gakupo continued. 

Len hadn’t even raised his head during the entire conversation. He waited patiently for Luka to muster the courage to extend her arms in front of her. 

They locked closed with a satisfying click, Luka winced as if it was painful. Then Len grasped the bracelets—shackles, whatever—with both hands and closed his eyes. 

Shadows curled like wisps of smoke around Len and Luka’s hands. The runes shone golden one, two, three times before returning to their usual pristine black. It wasn’t a good sign. The magic, however, seemed to dissipate right away. The air no longer seemed to ooze magic like honey. 

Len only stepped back when both darkness and light were gone. The seam where the metal met was now perfectly smooth, as if it had never existed. Gakupo might have done it himself, but he had tolerated being near her for too long already. 

Luka was shivering from head to toe. Gakupo, meanwhile, felt like he could breathe for the first time since he left for the capital. 

“Now, Miss, I beg you to abandon any intention you may have of murdering us at this moment and try to summon the sun.”

Luka raised her head, and looked at him with something very like hatred in her eyes, yet the whole world seemed to hold its breath as she clasped her cradled hands together in front of her. 

Nothing. Just infinity emptiness of her hands that clung to the air. 

Then, of course, radiant light shone over every corner of the room. 

“So despite my best efforts being killed in my sleep is still a possibility,” he squinted against the magic. Then the summoning subdued, just so he could see her furious, brilliant face.

“You shouldn’t give me ideas.”

Meiko and Len tensed up. In any other circumstance, Gakupo would have laughed. 

“Len, take her to her room. The tower to the west should suffice. Make sure she is well guarded, if her threats are to be taken seriously.”

“Yes, your Excellency.” Len bowed again. “Miss, if you would come with me.”

This time there were no more complaints. Luka turned on her heel and followed Len up the stairs. It was only until Gakupo watched them disappear behind a corner that he headed in the opposite direction. He didn’t have to tell Meiko to follow him. 

They walked in silence until they reached his office. Gakupo took off the coat that weighed on his shoulders and threw it on the back of the chair where he sank as if he meant to melt away among leather and metal rivets. Meanwhile Meiko, ever diligent, stood at the side of the door, the tip of the sword propped on the floor. 

“Rest,” he ordered, for he could never get used to such a formal Meiko. So formal with him, at least. It was jarring. 

It wasn’t entirely a facade. She had always been a good soldier. Nevertheless she obeyed and relaxed her shoulders, the sword returned to the sheath at her hips. 

“You’ve never had any tact.”

“No. It’s what has kept me alive.”

“Maybe, but you’re not giving her any fewer reasons to murder you either,” ignoring Gakupo’s caustic gaze, she continued. “Speaking of which, It wouldn’t kill you to tell me what’s going on. I’ve been having to guess what is this new problem in our hands ever since I saw a living idol trailing in your steps.”

Which was unfair, Gakupo had told her, in fragments, about the new problem in their hands in question each time Luka was out of earshot. It wasn’t very often, even when he managed to get away from the carriage he could feel her presence burning behind his back. 

“There’s always a new problem in our hands, this one just happens to be particularly insurmountable.”

Meiko gave him a sidelong glance, took out two small glasses and a half-empty bottle, put everything on the desk, and sat down in a nearby chair. 

“Well, you’ll just have to do what you always do when you have to deal with incomprehensible magic. Aria knows it won’t be the last time something like this happens.”

“Your idealism is charming as always, but I’m afraid Yuki’s magic has nothing to do with—"

“I’m talking about yours.”

It felt a bit like the air had been punched out of him. But it was stupid; his magic was intrinsic to him, it belonged to him, it really did. There was never anything to control. Not like any heresy of the so-called goddess Lily. Quite the opposite of Luka’s magic. 

Meiko poured both glasses. The sun had just risen, but he couldn’t refuse when she extended him one.

“Tell me what you found,” he ordered before raising the drink to his lips. 

Meiko was not a spy, not really. However she was well liked in Galaco’s palace (or as well liked as someone with loyalties to him could be, at least), with her charisma and cunning she could infiltrate places where Gakupo could not get through without being slaughtered by soldiers. 

When he found out who the palace’s guest of honor was, Gakupo had sent Meiko out to find out everything he could about her. Out of caution. Out of morbid curiosity. Perhaps it was karma that now he was going to devote an entire year to getting to know her. 

Anyway, he was glad to have done so (assuming the whole thing was inevitable and not some sort of divine retribution), he wanted to think it was going to be of some use, as insignificant as it might seem. 

“Not much we don’t already know. No one knows the origin of her power. The Marquis of Thesan is still alive and in critical condition, but that is all that is known about him for the time being. As for Luka herself, her father is dead,” Gakupo’s eyebrows rose at the last statement, Meiko took a sip. “The miracle she brought at birth saved her family from starvation. If the rumors of Itith’s spies are true, she escaped from home when the Leon accident happened.”

“Ah, runaway tendencies. Just what we need,” he said, putting a hand to his temple. “How did you find out about such things, anyway?”

“Well, she’s the most famous person in the whole kingdom right now, maybe since she was born. More than Fukase, and more than you, especially given the circumstances. And gossip travels faster than light. People are selling information about her, can you believe it? And it pays well, apparently, like, crazy well. With enough money we could get a complete family tree or something. That’d be a start, wouldn’t it?”

“Too bad we’re a bankrupt city.”

Not that it mattered, he hoped something like that was nothing he couldn't ask her directly, and in any case, he doubted speculation about her ancestry would be any more accurate than opening census records from Itith and start pointing names at random while blindfolded. 

“Anything else?”

“Nothing new.”

The room fell silent for a minute, Meiko absently ran her finger along the rim of the glass. 

“Hey, Gakupo,” she said. Despite her vaguely vacant eyes, it was a relief to be called by his name. “Do you think the Queen is looking to punish you? Waiting for the slightest misstep to take revenge?”

“Not the Queen, Gumi,” he replied. Meiko recoiled at the mere mention of the princess. “If there’s one thing Galaco and I have ever agreed on in our lives, it’s how terrible this plan is.”

And yet she had deemed it reasonable enough to go along with it.

“Gumi? Gumi suggested all this?”

“I didn’t want to believe it, either, but here we are. Either she’s gone completely insane or she’s looking to punish me too, as if I didn’t have enough to deal with.”

With a bit more urgency, she continued to swirl her glass around. 

“Maybe not,” she said with less conviction than she would have liked. “Maybe she has a plan, or there’s something else behind it. Something we haven’t seen. She always did that sort of thing. And there’s no point in trying to take revenge after all this time.”

“But I can’t be sure,” he said. “And I don’t have the luxury of trust.”

Notes:

sorry it's been a year since the last time i updated. it will happen again.

Chapter 7: To be sensible enough

Notes:

amazing how i keep finding typos in past chapters even though i swear i go over them like ten times before i post them. even though!! happy new year etc. but more importantly i managed to update before luka's release date, so happy birthday in advance to her!! i read this chapter out loud so the typos should at least have considerably diminished. hopefully.

Even after dismissing Meiko, Gakupo didn’t sleep. What was the point, if he’d have to wake up in so little time, anyway? In the meantime, he thought of Luka and practiced pronouncing her name, rolling the letters inside his mouth and getting them to slide off his tongue until he stopped choking on them. So far there hadn’t been much progress made. 

He played with a coin between his fingers. Luka Megurine, his protégée for a year and then… What? What would happen when he wasn’t able to deliver the miracle everyone expected of him? Or rather, that was precisely what they anticipated, the last excuse Galaco needed to get rid of him once and for all. 

Had Gumi, in spite of everything, planned everything herself?

No, of course not. She would never…

But he didn’t know her anymore, he hadn’t for a long time. Not since then. 

The coin flew in the air. It landed in Gakupo’s palm. He flipped it again. 

A poor management of magic was not an unprecedented phenomenon… in children, that is. And such a drastic case had never been heard of before. It was something that, without fail, was grown out of; something that one day clicked in place and could not be taught by anyone else. As natural as breathing. In the meantime, a few doses of Navoran during the worst outbursts were usually enough. 

The coin appeared and disappeared between Gakupo’s fingers as if by magic. 

His short-term solution he had placed around Megurine’s wrists. They were not crutches to be used indefinitely, but shackles to keep prisoners—the most dangerous ones—under control. 

It did leave a bad taste in his mouth that it should be that what would keep them both safe, but there was no other way. 

And if she was indeed as powerful as everyone claimed, as he himself had witnessed her to be, he could not imagine the strain the runes were under right now. 

Just picturing having to replenish the magic and carving the material over every two or three months was exhausting, what would happen when the metal had been worn so thing that his chisel would go right through it when he tried to work on the cuffs?

And even if he found a way around that, even if he were to be a welcome guest in Galaco’s palace coming and going so often, even if he were able to endure all the travel without attempting suicide along the way, he doubted the queen would want her precious miracle to wear the work of the children of darkness in her arms all the time.

The coin spun one, two, three times in the air, fell again and this Gakupo failed to catch it in his hand. The metallic clinking on the wooden desk echoed through the studio. Gakupo cursed under his breath. 

Gumi had suggested using his magic in the same way water would put out a fire, but if she had any idea as to how he was supposed to actually do that, she didn’t share it. There was no historical record of such a thing ever happening. On the contrary, and as the princess should know well, all the books suggested the triumph of light over darkness. 

The coin spun once, twice, three times in the air, dropped again and this time failed to land in Gakupo's hand. The metallic clinking on the wooden desk echoed throughout the studio. Gakupo cursed under his breath. 

Gumi had suggested using his magic like water putting out a fire, but if he actually had any idea how he supposed to do it, he didn't share it. There was no historical text that recorded such a thing ever happening. On the contrary, and as the princess should know well, all the books suggested the triumph of light over darkness.

“And yet, there is no historical record of anyone who could summon sunlight since Lily’s era, either”

Gakupo flinched, he should have known better, but still looked from left to right to find the source of the voice. He expected to see her behind him, having sneaked upon him and whispered in his hear to frighten him as it had once amused her so. 

But, of course, he was alone. 

Gakupo sank back into his chair, waiting for his heart to stop pounding against his chest. 

That much was true, though. It would not be the first impossible deed he accomplished. Sitting there, under the sturdy roof of his own castle, the first home he could truly call his own, and alive was the first (or most implausible) of them all. 

“But this time it’s different,” he said to himself. To Gumi. 

How to go on from there?

Two knocks on the door. Even for this it was early. 

“Come in,” he said. He didn’t like to be interrupted, especially at that hour, but this time any kind of distraction was a relief. 

He wasn’t surprised to see Len. Just by the way he stood he could tell he wasn’t there for any official matter, so when he took a step forward Gakupo motioned for him to sit down. 

“I was surprised not to find you in your room, for a second I feared you wouldn't be in your study either.”

“And where else would I be?” he yawned, and rested his head on his hand. “Stealing something from the kitchen, maybe, but you know I’m usually here trying to keep Edryae from collapsing like a house of cards.”

“Oh, are we lying now? Because I must tell you, my Lord, you look absolutely splendid tonight. By all means do share how you achieved such a healthy look, it’s like you slept three hours today instead of your usual two.”

The laughter he wrung from him was low and exhausted, but it dispelled a bit of the haze that hung over his shoulders. Gumi’s ghost, too, seemed to fade away. 

“Your flattery won’t help me out of this one,” he cocked his head in the general direction of the tower he’d sent Luka to. Granted she hadn’t set it on fire or torn it down yet. “I might not be able to keep the cards from collapsing this time.” 

Len’s smile faltered a little. 

“Is this about Saint Megurine or has something come up in the last two hours that puts us in more urgent danger than we already are?”

“Don’t call her that. Not here.”

“It only seems appropriate,” Len shrugged. “Her title is the same no matter where she goes.”

“Tell me then, since you are o so wise in the ways of sanctity, what would you do,” he slid across the table the notes he had made so far, so many times scribbled over, crossed out, rewritten, that he would be surprised if Len were able to decipher more than a word or two. His servant, for his part, leaned over as if he truly intended to go look through the whole thing. Unable to stand still any longer, Gakupo began to walk around the room, which seemed too tiny all of a sudden. “Drugs, rituals, more magic, if that’s possible. They’ve tried everything with this girl, what am I supposed to do?”

“Honestly?” said Len after a minute of silence, pushing the papers aside. “I’d find a way to send her back, with the cuffs if necessary.”

At Gakupo’s look, he held up his hands defensively. 

“I know they are ancient relics, perhaps the last remaining pair. But they are not worth more than everything you have built. What happens then will be their problem, you will have kept your end of the bargain.”

Did he really think him so stupid as to not have thought of that? He frowned, but he was too exhausted to get angry about it. 

“That was the first option, but it won’t work,” the decision was final, and he hoped he had gotten that across, then forced himself to stand still.

“It is the only thing anyone can do, period. Your Excellency, I don’t think even you can find the right way”.

“Do you think I chose this?” he snapped, turning to him. His pride was greater than his weariness, it seemed. “That I was the charitable soul who volunteered to solve the court’s new problem like a lapdog? Galaco wants a real solution and she wants it fast. If I don’t give it to her…”

When I’m not able to give it to her…

Len was very still. 

Gakupo tried to relax, to stop squaring his shoulders like something was going to pounce on him at any moment. 

“I’m sorry. You may go.”

It was no more than a whisper, but Len rose at once. He bowed and headed for the door. 

“If you really insist on things being this way, Your Excellency,” he said quietly. “I will try to answer your question once more: Have mercy. Make Megurine’s stay here not be as hellish as you have led her to fear it will be. I don’t think friendship is something you can offer her, not as things are right now, but at least assure her peace of mind. I think you better than anyone can understand how she must feel.”

He left the study without another sound, leaving Gakupo as cold despite the sun’s rays that insisted on breaking through the curtains. 

From somewhere in the corner, Gumi laughed. 

---

The first morning was surprisingly uneventful. When he ordered Rin to go get Luka for breakfast, she told him that she wouldn’t even answer to her. Which was almost a relief, if he closed his eyes, he entertained himself by imagining it had all been a bad dream and he could get on with his life. He could go on living, and so could his people. 

Trouble, as it usually did, came at sunset. 

He was engrossed in checking some documents when he heard Rin’s characteristic knocking at the door. 

“Come in,” he said, anticipating the bad news. 

Rin was much more sober than her twin, but even with her hands behind her back he could tell she was fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. 

“Has anything happened?”

“No, Your Excellency,” she said. “She still refuses to eat, but this time she seemed to acknowledge me last time I went to her room, at least.”

“It would be a problem if she fainted,” he said with the most convincing nonchalance he could muster. He pretended to be writing something important with his pen, in reality, he was just going over his signature in the air.

“I tried telling her as much, but she wasn’t amused.”

Gakupo sighed, could it be considered bad news if the situation hadn’t changed at all? There were no deaths or injuries yet, at least, which had been more or less what he had expected by now. 

“Thank you, Kagamine,” after looking at his signature one last time, he continued. “I need you to tell her something for me.”

It was no more a dining room than it was the place into which a table and several chairs happened to had been tossed into and even looked like part of the same set as long as you looked at them from a distance. At times it reminded him of his own duchy: a pile of broken scraps and fragments that only he could hold together. 

He could have used the main dining room, the more orthodox one, but the flow of servants would be greater because of its proximity to the kitchen. He would like to keep discretion over Luka for as long as possible. 

The creak of the door opening brought him out of his thoughts. Megurine stood before him and with her that irrational panic in his stomach. She was wearing Meiko’s pants and shirt she had thought would fit her. For practical purposes, they did. The pants fit too loosely, and underneath the rolled up sleeves the black metal covered in runes peeked out. 

She looked just about as uneasy as he felt. 

Rin bowed and closed the door in front of her. Gakupo gestured, but she remained motionless in her place. 

“Megurine, take a seat.”

And at the reiteration, she seemed to rediscover how to move. 

On the table were two plates full of a hearty stew, one that comforted Gakupo on cold or dreary days since he was younger. With how little she had eaten, he thought it might do her good. In the center, a teapot and slices of bread. 

“I’m sorry to have called you to dinner so abruptly, I didn’t think it right for you to spend your first night shut in,” he said, pouring tea into cups for the two of them.

The girl hardly seemed to notice. 

“Believe or not, I am sorry as you are for the situation we have both been thrown into.”

Again, there was no response. At the back of the room, Meiko didn’t say anything either. 

So, politeness was not going to work, so Gakupo smiled. At least he could drop the pretense. 

“You know, it will be bad for us both if we don’t make progress here.”

“Are you really the Black Sun?”

The question was only natural, something that must have weighted on her mind since she first heard about him, long before Leon. Luka remained very still after that, but she didn’t look fearful. However, if she had expected the subject to prove a sensitive nerve, she had missed by a long shot.  

“I don’t know. No one will know for certain until it’s too late,” Gakupo shrugged. “Even if it turns out that I am not cursed it will be another ill-fated soul who will destroy the kingdom in my place. Who knows, nothing guarantees that there will be another Black Sun at all within the next hundred years or more.”

Which was technically true, but it was the girl who wielded sunlight, his polar opposite, who sat in front of him. So the statement tasted like a lie in his mouth. A meeting that hadn’t been seen in centuries, maybe millennia, and would be described in history books, one that would change the world as they knew it, and they there having dinner in such an unassuming little room. 

She still avoided his eyes, but Gakupo noticed how her gaze slid to his horns. 

“But you can’t deny the possibility that you might die.”

The affirmation dropped like a stone in still waters, ripples stretching to the corners of the dining room. Behind him he thought than Meiko inhaled sharply. 

It didn’t sound like a threat. Nor had she said it with malice, but as the obvious conclusion to a simple question. Or the punchline to a joke she had heard too many times. 

“Yes, if I turn out to be the Black Sun, I will die. Just like everyone before me,” he said after a few seconds of deliberation. It was no secret, anyway. Moreover, he was still trying to figure the girl out. “You are familiar with the feeling, from what I heard during your trial.”

“Isn’t it unbearable?” she asked, but she still sounded distant, as if she didn’t grasp that he was referring to her, or was still reluctant to include herself in the matter. 

Gakupo glanced sideways at Meiko. A minuscule raise of her eyebrow showed that she was as clueless as he was. A bad omen, if his guard was having trouble reading a person, the hopes for him of ever getting to understand her were null. 

Nevertheless, he decided to play along. 

“I do not yearn for my own death, but no, it isn’t,” he found himself admitting. “Bearer or not, the Black Sun has given me power even over Galaco. Their terror, the queen’s, the entire court’s, is what has allowed me to come this far. It allowed me to survive.”

Only until then did he realize that for the first time since she entered, Luka was looking at him with those bright eyes of legend. Her expression was impossible to work out. He continued. 

“If I were to die right now, or rather, if it were the Black Sun that killed me, I would have more or less achieved everything I’ve set out to do. More importantly, I would be a thorn in Galaco’s side.”

And it was like he had grabbed her by the shoulders and shaken her out of a trance. Her gaze focused back on him and not whatever it was she was looking for hidden between his words or behind his eyes. 

“You really don’t know anything, you have no idea what it’s like to die.”

Gakupo smiled. 

“Perhaps the problem is that we know different deaths. I assume that for you it is a gradual process, but in the end we can’t know your fate, nor the different advances in the study of your condition that might be found. I, on the other hand…” he took his sleeve and rolled it up, exposing the discolored, raised scars that ran ran along his arm. “Experience leads me to assume I will meet a violent death, regardless of the specific circumstances. So I would prefer that things fall into place according to my own will, as far as possible.” 

No matter how hard he thought about it, there was no other option. Even if he managed to deliver what he promised, even if he was not a bearer of the Black Sun, just how much time did he have left? With Luka in her possession, when would Galaco decide that she had had enough of him? That his existence posed more of a threat rather than a curiosity worth keeping in case she ever needed him?

He covered his arm again, when he looked up at Luka it seemed that she had paled a little. 

“Your food will get cold,” he commented, deciding not to press the issue any further.

Luka held her head in both her hands. 

“What are you going to do with me, then?” she asked quietly. “What is your plan to achieve your different advances?”

But that was another question for which he had no answer. 

“I don’t know either,” he was forced to admit, this time with bitterness. “I never had any reason to dedicate my studies to light magic. I had assumed that I would be the last person they would turn to if problems ever arose with the Goddess's chosen one.”

Luka pulled her hands away from her face, and in her gaze he met again with the hatred he had seen last time. 

“If anything, you should be the last person to believe such absurd rumors.”

“People like you are nothing but rumors, yet I see you are sitting right in front of me,” he said with no pretension of unkindness, but felt the breath of Gumi’s arrogant laughter in his ear, and he felt somewhat sick. He resisted the urge to look behind him to confirm that she wasn’t in fact there. “It’s your magic. It’s your eyes. Anything else I might have disregarded, I might have found an explanation for, but this is as new to me as it is to you light devotees. I have no idea what you are.”

Something akin to anger on Luka’s face, but not quite. Neither of them moved. 

“But we’ll worry about that tomorrow. For the time being, I suggest that you eat.”

Luka eyed the steaming plate as if she had noticed for the first time it was there and frowned. Gakupo realized that he hadn’t had a bite either and sighed. He acknowleged her concern, at least. 

“I have no intention of murdering you,” he said after a sip of tea. "My head would be on a stake in Galaco’s garden before I could even think about it. You are as untouchable here as you are in Lilias, perhaps more so. If you don’t plan to eat here, we’ll send your food to your room. Your choice.”

But she didn’t need to say anything for Gakupo to know her answer, he knew it even before she had taken a step into the room. He rose after a few seconds of silence. He had no courtesies or smiles or even mockery left, only a gray exhaustion. And it was barely the first night. 

“As you wish. We’ll met tomorrow morning in my study to try and get this over with,” he started walking. “Meiko, escort our guest back, make sure there are no casualties along the way.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

Gakupo knew she bowed without turning to see her, the last thing he heard before he left was Luka’s cold voice. 

“I am no devotee.”

Of course she wasn’t. That much he believed. No one could be with the curse she carried on her shoulders, more poisonous than Gakupo's would ever be, with the suffering Lily seemed to be bringing upon them both. 

That said, it would prove a problem if the girl did die of starvation. He could only hope that her hunger would soon get the better of her stubbornness. 

It’s not as if he still didn’t have things to do. Every time he managed to solve a problem or adjourned a deadline five more would pop out of nowhere, but he would have a nervous breakdown if he tried to sit down to sign papers and handle unsolvable dilemmas, so he went straight upstairs to his room. He needed to sleep. 

He was holding the bedding in his hand already when he felt the cold gust of wind on the back of his neck, ruffling his hair. 

He turned around, he had opened the balcony doors because the stagnant air of his uninhabited room reminded him too much of a tomb. He had forgotten to close them. But the white curtains swayed playfully, and the stars in the sky twinkled incitingly. The wind itself sang, and it was calling him. 

He needed to sleep. He needed to stop pacing around like a caged animal. He needed to sleep. No one could blame him for clearing his mind for a couple of hours. He needed to sleep. Who would ever know?

Gakupo took his shirt off and threw it on his bed. He welcomed the soft bite of chill on his skin and crossed the room. He would go far where he could not be reached by Gumi’s hands or the blaze of any divinity. It was blissful to stretch out those stiff muscles he tried so hard to keep hidden. For the first time in months he was himself. 

---

The bees were more restless than usual. 

It was a slow realization. Gakupo had noticed that something was out of the ordinary, but he hadn’t been able to work out what until he had to swat one away from his arm. 

At such an odd hour, too. He had just seen the sun rise a couple of minutes ago. It was weird to see them there at all, come to think about it, but he had grown used to them during the travel from the capital. 

He knew the reason, but didn’t want to be reminded of it, not during the last few moments of peace he had left in the day. He took a deep breath, feeling the cool air in his lungs and his sore back through the thin linen shirt. A different kind of exhaustion, a more bearable one, had taken hold of his body. 

But if he looked up he could see the girl’s tower. He wondered if she had woken up yet, if she had managed to fall asleep at all, if she had managed to eat at least a few spoonfuls off her plate. 

The birds sang and the waves crashed against the rocks. He had to move. 

He dragged himself to his room to splash his face with water and fix himself up, but mainly so he could rest his head on the pillow for at least five minutes but no more than that. Then the only thing left was to wait at his desk for one of the Kagamines to bring the girl in. 

He had not dared to fully cling to the hope that during the course of the night something would occur to him, yet the disappointment was there when of course, he never came to any new conclusion, no new idea or perspective, no other angle from which to view the situation. His last hope was that Megurine would give him a sliver of information that the rest of the world had missed, a clue that only he could extrapolate.

So ultimately he had to start planning his funeral. 

“Come in,” he said at the three sluggish knocks on the door. 

He heard Luka enter and close the door behind her followed by the armchair in front of him sagging under her weight, and not a word after that. 

“Megurine, good morning, I hope you’ll excuse me if I skip the pleasantries, I don’t think that…”

“I thought you’d understand.”

Gakupo looked away from the blank page on which he was about to start writing. 

Luka before him, as radiant as ever, her cheeks flushed, her eyes half-closed. Something was off. 

“Are you alright?”

“It was foolish, wasn’t it? But I always thought that if there was one person in the world who would ever understand it would be the Black Sun. Despite the hatred or whatever other contempt you may hold against me,” Luka’s face was gentle. “Then you yourself confirmed that it really is like in the stories. You don’t want to win, you know it’s impossible, but you’re content to drag everyone down with you, you’ll be satisfied if you know your enemies will suffer.”

“Megurine, it is not like that,” was the only thing perplexity allowed him to say, he didn’t know what she was getting at. 

When Luka threw her head back as if he had told her a joke, Gakupo could see a bee crawling on her collarbone. Then she hugged herself as if it would stop the shivering of her shoulders. 

“I never wanted to believe it, but are we really destined to repeat the same story? Are we so stupid to perform it all over again even though we know we’ll kill each other? I never wanted to be the Godess’ chosen one.”

“I thought those were absurd rumors.”

Luka clenched her hands into trembling fists. 

“They are absurd rumors. But it’s the only explanation I have left. It’s the only thing I know.”

On Luka’s arms the cuffs hummed at an agitated frequency that he didn’t know if she was aware of. It wasn’t a sound, exactly, but something he would describe as the very pulse of magic in them. He couldn’t imagine the kind of strain they were under. 

Gakupo stood up, startling the girl. He took a small bottle from the display case behind him and placed it on the desk separating them. He had distilled it himself a while back, he had wanted a challenge then. 

“Your magic is overflowing,” he said, in vague awe at the raw power pouring out of her. It shouldn’t surprise him, given everything he had seen, yet experiencing it so close to him, almost dense enough for it to be tangible, was still overwhelming. “It’s just Navoran. Drink it.”

Luka stared at the elixir for a few seconds, then, like lightning striking the earth, a smile came across her face. It was a strange gesture, the savage, pained grimace of a mortally wounded man. 

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m terrified. I refuse to be rendered defenseless.”

Without meaning to, something gave way inside Gakupo’s chest. He had been in the same situation himself once, hadn’t he?

“You’re sick,” the realization fell on him just as the words escaped his mouth. “Drink the elixir.”

“Even if I wanted to—even if I though on obeying you, this won’t do, not this dose,” perhaps it was the distress, perhaps the light radiating from her own skin, but pearls of sweat dampened Luka’s temples. “I though you were paying attention in Galaco’s palace. This dose is not enough.”

“There’s more where that came from,” he reassured, but it was hardly true. There had never been a reason to keep a surplus of Navoran in the castle, but he could send Len to the central square to get as much as he could. If he asked the court for a steady supply, they had no reason to refuse, even if it revealed that not a month had passed and he had already lost any control of the situation. 

Then he couldn’t help a more trivial anger washing over him. He couldn’t believe it, had the cuffs really not been enough?  

“Just for the moment,” he continued dry-mouthed. “It can’t possibly have no effect, let me try and fix this.”

His magic. The magic of all his ancestors. It might as well be his own blood, and yet he failed. And his failure was not any sentence Galaco would impose upon him. Right now failure was the frightened, feverish girl in front of him, trembling with murderous rage. 

“I won’t do it. Didn’t I tell you? I don’t trust you.”

This was all his fault. 

“Why won’t you let yourself be helped?!”

“Because I made a promise!” she cried. “I promised never to give in to people like you, and I know what you are.”

“A demon?”

“A nobleman.”

That was new, at least. 

The world had shifted a little under his feet, but Gakupo forced himself to regain his composure. 

“And that promise is so important you’d lay down your life in order to fulfill it?”

“Yes. Maybe,” a brief pause. “I don’t know.”

But it was like rekindling a fire, Luka stood up. 

“But it’s the only thing I can do for them, after all I’ve done,” she said, closing her eyes, opening them again. “If I can’t help anyone else, my family are the only ones I owe anything to. I fulfilled my mother’s dream, but at this cost,” a choked sob. “I was ten years old when I realized I was dying, and I’m the only one to do so ever since. My own siblings don’t want to see it, and no one else dare face the fact that the reincarnation of the Goddess is a dying one. But my mother… Sometimes I wonder if she doesn’t wish I would just drop dead once and for all. It tears me apart.” 

A sob, and Luka shrank in on herself. Gakupo felt dizzy. 

“The entire world wants me to drop dead once and for all,” he began, unsure of what to say, he had never been god at comforting people. “I know I’m a noble, but we’re both after the same thing.”

Gakupo wasn’t sure she was even listening to him, but if her silence was a distrusting one, he couldn’t blame her. 

“I should have explained better from the start, but it’s really in both our best interests to get you out of here as soon as possible. Galaco stopped caring whether or not I am the Black Sun and has been looking for years for the perfect excuse to get rid of me, and with this she found the perfect opportunity,” then he had to spit the ugly, shameful truth. “And I considered her a mother, once.”

Luka turned to him violently enough for it to have had hurt, but her face showed nothing. 

“It was absurd. She never loved me. Taking me in was nothing more than a strategic decision, but she stopped the annihilation of dark mages that the former king carried out. I didn’t know anything else either.”

Gakupo sensed the office at the corners of his eyes melting away. Again, he left for places he kept shut in the back of his mind for a reason. He looked at Luka a few paces away from him, the most pressing issue, and he was getting out of topic. 

“It is not my life that concerns me. Look around you, my duchy is the only refuge for dark mages who until a few years ago were persecuted and taken to the stake. If I die, what do they have left? I have no children or heirs. This place would crumble and my people would once again be at the mercy of the queen.”

They very thought caused him vertigo. That time Galaco had had mercy, but now that everything had changed, he could not rely on that once again. 

“And it’s still my fault,” Luka said softly, the quiet verdict of a judge.

“No,” and the immediate response surprised him himself. “You didn’t choose anything about this. Neither of us did. You don’t deserve to die.” 

Silence. 

“We want the same thing. For one year be sensible enough to trust me. Let me save you so my people can live,” he leaned toward her. “Please.”

For an eerie eternity Luka said nothing. Then she took a deep, hesitant breath. 

“If what you say is true… Could you start saving me now?”

The buzz of the bees. Luka staggered forward a few steps. Honey mixed with sweat. Gakupo barely managed to catch her in time with the desk in the middle of the way. The fever. Her skin burned even through her clothes. Gumi. 

Gakupo straightened up so she could lean on him. To deaf ears fell all his empty words, telling her to hold on, that she had to remain conscious, but otherwise he couldn’t stand the sound of his own thoughts harmonizing with Luka’s labored breathing. 

In the doorway, Gakupo caught out of the corner of his eye the princess of Elyria sitting in his chair. He closed the door behind him violently, and left her in the darkness. 

Chapter 8: World of stained glass

In her last dreams, Luka had been lucky enough to return home, sit under the tree in her garden and be able to pretend that Kokone was braiding her hair for real, and the laughs they had at Kyo’s jokes were genuine.  

This time, the long fingers that grasped her with enough strength to crush bones wouldn’t let her take her eyes off her intertwined hands. She recognized perfectly the lacerated knees, the strained neck, for some time kneeling in front of an altar for hours on end had been second nature. Unmoving, all she could do was scream. 

But as much as she wanted to shatter the world of stained glass around her into pieces, as much as she would have liked to drown it all out until she tore her throat apart, where she expected wails there was only song.

Music that still burned red-hot in her mind, lyrics she knew better than her very soul.

When she managed to turn her face to the sky, despite the invisible force holding her head down, the blinding sunlight made the stained glass dance in her vision. Blue that crashed with green and red and yellow. And then she saw faint lines tracing the rough outline of an open hand, the arch of bare feet, a white dress and golden hair—it could only be golden—falling in dense locks around a woman’s silhouette. A sleeping face that must have been beautiful in life.

Luka was unable to stop singing even when Lily opened her eyes, and knew those golden irises she was staring at her with were her very own.

Waking up between gasps, she sat up as quickly as she could. Although it was a recurring nightmare, this time it was more difficult than usual to resist the urge to hug her knees and cry. Because she knew she would find no comfort, and part of her still harbored the irrational fear that the words coming out of her mouth would not be her own.

“Saint?”

Luka turned towards the source of the voice, still dazed and vaguely terrified. It was the blond boy from last time, or perhaps the girl, sitting in a chair a few feet away from her.

Slowly the world started to make sense again and she was able to piece together the scenery. A bed, a dresser, a chandelier, a closet. With the thick layer of dust that seemed to cling even to her skin during all that time she had sat on the floor, it had been the loneliest room in the universe.

Even the sea, which had once been a longed-for fantasy, proved cruel and dismal. From the tales and stories she had heard from her siblings she had always imagined fine sand and blue water and white foam, but when she reached the castle and peered over the crude fence she saw only violent waves breaking on sharp rocks, all the same color as the hazy sky that stretched overhead for miles and miles.

She leaned forward and closed her eyes.

“You are safe, Saint. No one will harm you,” the voice continued, which was little reassuring. “Do you remember what happened?”

Luka straightened up, struggling to answer. Those last few days since she’d been shackled were a blur.

“I passed out,” she managed to mumble through a dry mouth. It’s not that she really remembered, but it was an easy question. She’d spent half her life fainting or getting sick in one way or another. She brushed her chin with her hand, checking for dried blood.

However, it seemed to be a good enough answer for her companion. Luka focused her gaze and determined that it was indeed the boy. Len.

“You seem to have regained consciousness,” he said with evident relief. “You had a high fever for a couple of days.”

“You had us worried,” added a second voice, this time she had no trouble recognizing Meiko. “But as His Excellency has explained to you, our hands are tied when it comes to this kind of thing. He was planning to request a doctor from the court if you showed no signs of improvement. The letter was ready to be sent and everything.”

“Lucky him.”

“Of course,” Len cleared his throat to draw attention. “I insisted that such an occurrence was beyond our control, and that perhaps it was best for you to return to the Queen’s palace.”

But even if anyone could find the way for that to be arranged, to overturn the very queen’s orders, she couldn't bear to admit that the nebulous fragments of Gakupo’s plea still ate away at her mind. She didn’t trust him, but she was not the only one with something to protect.

“It’s fine. I feel better now.”

But the foreign weight in her arms was still detestable. She looked down at the shackles, her skin contrasted sickly with the black metal that clasped around it like weeds to a statue.

“You might have to deal with those for a while. I’m sorry,” said Len, as if he wasn’t the one who had put them on her in the first place.

Luka didn’t answer and tried to summon the light. To her relief, it appeared between her hands, bright and tenacious as ever, but the black magic pulsing covering her wrists pulsed as if it were alive, as if flowing through her very veins, something foul and heinous spreading through her body with every beat of her heart.

But no matter how much she felt about the cuffs she found only the touch of cold metal, no seam or hinge or anything to indicate that it had ever been open. And so smooth, despite it all. She hadn’t been able to make a scratch in it no matter how hard she banged it against the floor and corners of furniture.

Whatever reach her powers might have had had been mutilated. She would have to discover once again the limits of her useless stumps.

The faces of her audience—Len’s vaguely amused, Meiko’s like she expected having to draw her sword at any time—both changed to something very close to horror as Luka kicked off the sheets and got out of bed.

It seemed to her that in less the time it took Meiko to curse in shock, Len was already at her side, hands outstretched to support her, but he pulled them back at the last second.

“Saint, you shouldn’t be up, it’s—“

“Don’t call me Saint.”

Len blinked a couple of times, Luka managed to reach the door on shaky legs, and discovered it was unlocked when she pushed it open. She hadn’t noticed the warmth of the room until she breathed in the cold air of the rest of the castle.

She began to walk aimlessly with Len behind her. Meiko followed them both a few paces behind.

“What should I call you, then?”

Luka stopped in her tracks. It took her a second to answer.

“Luka,” she said, unable to shake off the stupefaction entirely. “Call me Luka. I hate titles.”

Len nodded when she turned around.

“Well, Luka,” and the sound of her own name rang strange to her, as if it was the first time she’d heard it. “Is there any way I can convince you to rest for at least a couple of hours?”

Not in any way.

“Take me to your duke.”

“I don’t think His Excellency will be happy to see you,” Meiko interjected, crossing her arms.

“He’ll have to put up with me.”

But this time, before her stern gaze, she found it harder to maintain her conviction. Fortunately, Len cleared his throat and spoke again.

“It seems to me that His Excellency would be reassured to see with his own eyes that Luka has recovered, don’t you think? It’d be bad if he ended up sending the letter at this stage.”

After a moment's meditation, Meiko sighed, still looking upset.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, but if you say so.”

Luka’s relief must have shown on her face, because Len smiled as she turned to her.

“It’s this way. You can lean on me if you need to.”

“No. It’s okay,” she said, feeling a certain embarrassment all of a sudden. Unsure of what to do with her hands, she clasped them behind her back. “I thought that of all places… this would be the last one where I would still be called Saint.”

“Oh? I should have guessed. His Excellency scolded me for it too,” he shrugged. “I assumed it would make you feel more comfortable, being more familiar with it.”

“Familiar might be saying a lot.”

“Maybe it's for the best,” Meiko chimed in behind them. “Len doesn’t understand, but we should keep a low profile as much as possible when it comes to you. Light is not welcome here.”

That much she knew. Not only Lily’s influence, but the very light seemed to avert the place, which she disregarded as stupid rumors, as were the ones that circulated about her. But in the epicenter of everything she was witness to the contrary. Even on the brightest days only pale beams of sunlight seemed to penetrate the gray clouds above. The nights were darker, the shadows more vivid.

She also knew Gakupo was trying to keep her stay there hidden, but secrets like that proved more volatile than the magic that tormented her. She could see it in the faces of the few soldiers they could not avoid: they were beginning to understand the situation, if they hadn’t already. And when it all inevitably went public, for the first time she could not imagine what would happen.

Holiness was the only thing she had known all her life, and as much as it disgusted her, as much as it was the cause of most of her problems, it also offered her greater protection than her own power.

And if she was not sacred, then she was little less monstrous than Gakupo himself.

“It’s here, we could…” Len looked only somewhat puzzled when Luka stepped forward without listening.

If she didn’t force herself to put her hands on the wood and push with all her resolve, she feared she would never be able to muster the courage to act again.

Once again she found herself in Gakupo’s gloomy office. She remembered the large desk at the back of the room, the unlit fireplace and, what caught her attention most, that odd sword decorating the wall, gleaming with malice.

Beneath the weapon was Gakupo, writing something on a notebook, he looked up, as if the turmoil of Luka barging into the room no longer seemed a novelty to him.

“Miss Megurine, I assume your fever has broken. Are you feeling better?”

“What did you do to me?” she asked as she strode toward him.

“I do not understand the question, I’m afraid. If you’re referring to when you were ill…”

“What do you think I mean?” she exclaimed, slamming her palms against the table, displaying the shackles. However she hadn’t had time to consider that she had indeed overlooked the fact that she had been unconscious and surrounded by complete strangers for Goddess knew how long.

Luka shook her head to shed her terror. If it came to that, she’d deal with it. But she couldn't bear to think about it now. She couldn’t.

“You’re talking about the cuffs,” Gakupo deduced at last, Luka nodded. “They’re not harmful, they just suppress magic. I had hoped to be able to quell yours completely, as a temporary measure, but it seems I underestimated your powers again.”

Guessing she wasn’t satisfied with his explanation, he continued.

“Traditionally the metal comes from lands where black magic abounds, but there haven’t been many of those places left for centuries, so those are the only ones of their kind,” Gakupo looked at them with something akin to melancholy. “The runes are where their power really comes from, and it saddens me to have to reapply them until the material is worn down to nothing, but I’ll consider it a victory if I can make them last another year.”

“Runes?”

Being a tradition so closely tied with shadows, it was a school of magic practically unknown to the entire kingdom, almost considered superstition. Luka’s eyes flickered quickly to the sword, the symbols on the sheath she had taken for ancient writing suddenly looked more sinister.

Gakupo sighed as Luka frantically checked her arms.

“I can show you the meaning of each rune if you wish, you will see that I am being honest,” after a moment, he continued. “Such an abrupt blockage of the flow of magic must have been too much for your body, hence the sickness. I should have foreseen something like that, my most sincere apologies.”

“But you’d have put them on me even if you had known.”

A pause.

“They are necessary measures, Miss Megurine, I thought I told you as much,” he said at last, looking back to his notebook to scribble something, then added, as an afterthought. “Though I suppose I would have softened the impact, to spare us both this.”

By then, Gakupo had already stopped paying attention to her, but Luka could only continue to stare at him in bewilderment. When she was younger she entertained herself by wondering what is the farthest she would go in order to get rid of her magic. If her power came from a hidden organ inside of her body she would take a knife herself and rummage through her insiders until she ripped it out with her bare hands. If she had to give up her speech and her song she would happily offer her severed tongue to Lily’s altar. If she had to pass the curse on to someone else…

Compared to all that, a couple of pieces of metal were relatively harmless, a solution so simple she still couldn’t quite believe it was true. She doubted she could completely pretend to lead a normal life, but for a couple of months at least she would receive some of the relief she had prayed for all her life. And yet.

“How do I take them off?”

“Excuse me?” Gakupo’s quill stopped mid-stroke.

“How do I take them off?” she repeated louder.

“You cannot do that,” he almost looked insulted. “For everyone’s safety and for your own. All the magic would return to you in an instant if you were to remove them without the proper procedure, and in your current state I doubt you would survive such a thing. Until we can find some other treatment…”

“I’m not going to take them off,” she said, which was true, but the phrase still tasted like a lie in her mouth. “But I want to know how to do it. I want to have the option.”

“Why?”

“Because I refuse to be at anyone's mercy.”

Which seemed to have been the correct answer, judging by the change in Gakupo’s expression, though what it was specifically she could not tell. Then he seemed to notice for the first time the hands in front of him, stained by the pale ghosts of purple and yellow bruises. Luka had to hide the urge to hide them behind her back.

“Very well,” he said at last, standing up, “if you would be so kind as to follow me.”

It was fortunate that by the time Luka was unable to continue holding back a shaky smile of relief, Gakupo’s back was already turned to her.

Her joy was short-lived, however, because Meiko and Len were still there when they stepped out into the hallway, and there was nothing left on their faces of the ease with which they had shown her just a while ago.

“Your Excellency,” they said at the same time.

Walking behind him, Luka thought he would order Len to handle the shackles like the last time, so when Gakupo passed him by and stopped in front of Meiko her stomach twisted into a knot. 

“Did she just wake up?”

“Yes, Your Excellency. The first thing she did was ask to be brought to you.”

“I see.”

There was no change in either of their demeanors. Gakupo went on his way, and Luka just followed. She said nothing, upon turning her head she could only see that Meiko remained in the same position.

She had once feared what the queen would do to Avanna if she disobeyed orders for Luka’s sake. Whether or not she had been punished for her compassion she did not know, but here the probability that she would be able to witness the cruelty of an aristocrat in all its splendor was very high. In her haste she had forgotten that even if herself was untouchable, there were still innocent people who could be hurt because of her actions. She had to be careful, she couldn’t bear the weight of more desolate lives on her shoulders. 

They continued on until they arrived at what Luka assumed was the library. Gakupo led her to a small corner adorned by a couple of armchairs.

He took a book from a nearby shelf and opened it seemingly at random on a table. Then, from a carved wooden box, he pulled something resembling a chisel, with a sleek handle and a silver edge that gleamed in the candlelight. Luka couldn’t help but take a couple of steps back.

“Your hands, please,” Gakupo said, studying the book.

Luka hesitated.

“I won’t be able to do this otherwise.”

If there was in fact a divine plan, as some theologians claimed, then everything that had led up to a few months ago seemed meticulously designed by Lily to humiliate her.

She steeled herself and put her hands before her, Gakupo carefully took one of the shackles, trying to keep as much distance as possible. When wisps of shadow rose up from his skin he began his work in silence.

Holding her breath, Luka watched Gakupo trace one delicate line on the metal, frowning and consulting the yellowed pages every few strokes, then shifting the positioning of the tool between his fingers and continuing. Where she hadn’t been able to nick the surface, the chisel sliced through like it parted before it.

Without realizing it, Luka’s gaze slid to the skin peeking out from under his sleeves, and the burns that were most prominent on his right arm. In the light, she could see that it even marked the rest of his hand. Then she saw the fingernails, just a little too long, too sharp to be those of a normal human, close enough to brush her if he wasn’t mindful. The thought made her look away.

Instead, she dared peek at the book. The intricate handwriting written in the margins seemed as incomprehensible to her as the symbols that took up most of the page, so she felt proud when she recognized the one Gakupo was trying to carve in the cramped space between the runes on the shackles.

A while later, just as she was about to drop her arms from exhaustion, and the darkness dancing around them became too unnerving to ignore any longer, the duke’s voice brought her out of the nervous stupor she didn’t know she was in.

“It is done,” he said. And the darkness died in the air, the black metal stopped vibrating.

He took a couple of steps away to give her space. He, too, looked relieved to have finished, or perhaps to be able to distance himself at last.

“I insist that you do not remove them, but you can confirm you can take them off. Use your magic.”

Luka bit her tongue and tentatively wrapped her fingers around the cuff. Not knowing what else to do, she summoned sunlight as she had tried so many times the nights before.

This time, gold coursed through the runes and drew the thin union between the two pieces of metal. Just that, and yet the taste of freedom was euphoric.

“Oh,” she sighed with delight. She wanted to keep burning until the damned things were consumed by her light, she knew she could. For the first time she would be glad when her powers ended in destruction.

But she didn’t want to test Gakupo’s patience, no matter how much he swore he wouldn’t hurt her. Furthermore, just feeling her power being drained in the few seconds Len had shackled her had been traumatic, if her magic came back as fast as it had been taken away, she knew her body would not be able to withstand it.

So she forced herself to stop.

It was a strange feeling. Her magic hadn’t changed, it was still the only sliver of warmth in the cold castle, but summoning it had taken much more effort than normal, like having to reach out to take something that until then had always been within her grasp.

Something inside her, more primal, more transcendental than her own soul had been suffocated, but at the same time it was like inhaling air for the first time after knowing nothing but smoke. The world was sharper, even the dust floating around suddenly possessed a certain charm, it was like seeing it for the first time.

Looking upon that new reality she met Gakupo’s attentive face almost by accident.

“Thanks,” she muttered after a few seconds, if only to break the awkward silence.

“I’m glad it worked,” he said at last, as if to himself. He continued at Luka’s concerned look. “It was experimental, introducing solar magic at all.”

“Something experimental ?”

“Any practice related to you is. I’m far from the first to innovate, I’m sure,” he reminded her, pointing at her with his jaw. Luka clenched her fists, it wasn’t the first time she had been treated as a guinea pig, no. “In any case, I took precautions to ensure that any adverse effects would bounce off to me.”

That was new.

As if to prove it, he flexed his fingers, and the shadows Luka hadn’t noticed clinging to her skin condensed, then disappeared. It was almost instantaneous and, like all magic, intangible, yet Luka cringed at the sight of it.

“If we’re done here, I’d suggest resting while you can. You shouldn’t strain yourself while you haven’t fully recovered.”

And just as he turned to leave…

“Wait,” Gakupo looked at her over his shoulder. “Last time you said you used to think of Galaco as a mother.”

It was the only thing she remembered clearly about the last few days, and yet the thought was so ridiculous she wondered if it wasn’t the result of a fever-induced hallucination.

“Ah, that,” Gakupo sighed, and for a minute Luka feared he would ignore her and leave her alone. “I suppose you were bound to find out eventually, if you’re going to live among the queen’s court. It might be better if you hear it from me.”

Gakupo sat down, Luka did the same. Just then fell upon her the realization that since she had gotten out of bed she had only been driven by terror and adrenaline and indignation. She was exhausted and yet she listened attentively to Gakupo’s account.

“You know about the reign of Galaco’s father, by far the bloodiest in generations, due to the hunt of dark mages who had until then lived a period of relative peace,” he said, his cadence made it sound like he were reading from a book, or as if it were a speech he had memorized. “By the time it was decreed that not even royalty would be spared, the first son of the former dukes of Edryae, my parents, had been born.”

Luka more or less knew the history of the king, the part she had heard time and time again was how he was overthrown by his daughter, then executed under her very orders. But she knew nothing about the dukes, any knowledge concerning the shadows had been forbidden for her. It was a miracle she had ever heard of Gakupo at all.

And yet she knew where the story was headed.

“So they took their child and fled, with no plan and no destination. For about five years they wandered the continent, hiding, waiting for the day when they could return to their old life and take back what was theirs,” Gakupo smiled bitterly. “They almost made it.”

“Galaco got the crown and put a stop to the massacre, but the news didn’t reach the soldiers who discovered us in time. My parents managed to get me to safety, but they…”

Luka did not find in Gakupo’s face the anguish or sadness she had expected. He just looked tired.

“Of course, I myself was found the next day, and was taken to the palace. Not only was I the first dark mage in years to set foot in the court, but there was the matter of the horns,” as if to emphasize his point, he inclined his head toward her. “Galaco possessed an interest in the Black Sun much as she has for you now, so she decided to take me in. As if I were a novelty, or perhaps a pet. But the truth is back then she saw in me what she sees in you. A political advantage, and a weapon for war.”

This time, Gakupo’s pause was more pronounced. So it was that transparent, even for him, or maybe especially because it was him. 

Even then, they both seemed aware that he had not yet answered Luka’s question. For the first time, Gakupo looked tense, having difficulty pronouncing his next words.

“I had… I have very few memories of my own family. Although the queen was never quite fond of me, I came to think of her as a mother when I was very young. That is all.”

Luka caught Gakupo’s final exhalation, so low she could well have imagined it.

“That’s how you met the princess?”

She knew it was a bold question, but the sudden tension in the duke’s posture proved it was a more delicate subject than she imagined.

“I assumed you were acquainted, the way you addressed each other during my trial…” she continued, unsure if she was pressing too hard on topics that were none of her business.

A couple seconds of silence.

“We got to spend time together on occasion during my time at the palace, yes,” he said at last, which was a disappointing answer, but Luka was surprised she had heard one at all. “ That is all. ”

She knew better than to insist further. Gakupo ran a hand through his hair, then stood up and, to Luka’s horror, walked toward her. It was pure instinct to shrink in on herself waiting for the impact of a blow, or claws, so she felt stupid when, daring to open an eye, she found Gakupo extending a book to her.

She accepted it gingerly, it was the rune book he had used moments ago.

“I said I would show you the purpose of each rune. In the end, I don’t think I will have the time, but you can prove for yourself that there is nothing outside of magic suppression.”

“Yes. Of course. Thank you,” she said, placing the book in her lap.

“I’ll send someone to escort you back to your room. If by tomorrow your condition has improved we’ll get this over with. We’ve wasted too much time that we don’t have.”

Before disappearing behind a bookcase, Gakupo took a couple of steps back.

“Miss Megurine, I almost forgot,” he said. “I’m sure you have noticed this by now, but I’d like to warn you anyway, seeing as you’re in such a similar position to the one I was in.”

He lowered his voice.

“Galaco is opportunistic above all else. She is subject to no superstition, no religion or dogma, with all that entails, so she will not stop at anything to reach her objectives, whichever those are. Be careful around her.”

She herself had come to a similar conclusion before, but Gakupo’s story proved it. Still she could not ignore the shiver that ran down her spine.

“Oh, and don’t forget to eat something. You have barely picked at anything since I met you.”

Of all he could have said, those were his last words. 

Chapter 9: The only thing that would never be hers

Luka carefully stroked the spine of the book with her thumb. A reckless thing, she was sure, the residue that stuck to her skin made her fear that at any moment it would break apart in her hands. She had tried to open it to check what Gakupo had assured her, but it might as well have been written in another language just with the technicalities and obscure marginalia. So looking at it gave her a headache.

It was frustrating. Any other grimoire of the same level, or even more advanced, she could have figured out without a problem. But during her more formal education all literature on darkness, and any document that mentioned it, was strictly forbidden to her, and now she was helpless. 

She had managed to deduce that each rune was made up of smaller components, but that was it. No matter how hard she tried to identify them, none of Gakupo’s strokes looked anything like those in the book. 

The sound of footsteps made her look up. When she saw Meiko in front of her she forced herself to stop frowning.

“So, Luka?” the hesitation in calling her by her name was palpable, but when she nodded, Meiko seemed to relax. “Okay, this way, then.”

She only started walking when Luka was standing next to her. As she followed her, she noticed the cautious proximity she kept to her, as if she was going to try and flee any second. 

They hadn't even left the room. Before she realized that her legs had betrayed her yet again Meiko was already there, arms outstretched towards her in case she fell.

It only took a brush.

As if the contact had set sparks flying, she immediately recognized the ardor of magic. As familiar as Kyo lighting the hearth in winter, just as terrifying as the wildfire closing in on her, and this time without Navoran at hand. Shit, it just had to be fire.

She could feel the flames licking at her skin, the blaze climbing up from the hem of her trousers, smoldering her hair, she even saw the light burning through her eyelids.

But nothing happened.

Luka dared to open one eye, surprised not to find the incandescent hell she expected, only Meiko's quizzical face.

“Luka?” she asked. “Are you all right?”

She opened her mouth, but could not answer. Meiko, for her part, was polite enough to do no more than arch her eyebrows when Luka took her arm and wrapped both hands around it.

She could indeed feel the magic pushing against her skin. It was a bit weaker than Kyo's, or maybe it was her perception altered by the cuffs, but that was it, there was no reaction in her own body.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry,” Luka stammered, dazed between elation and grief. “I’m so sorry.”

She forced herself to break away from her, and picked up the book she had dropped. All her life she had been terrified to go near her siblings, so many times she had hurt them, and yet they never left her side. And now she was something closer to a sister they could love, Luka was a prisoner on the other side of the world, and it was likely she would never see them again.

“I’m sorry,” she said once more, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. “It's nothing. Let 's go.”

Walking beside Meiko was little different than walking beside the soldiers who had escorted her into Galaco's palace, or those who guarded her home. Another impassive face and cold demeanor, insensitive to the rest of the world like a statue that had come to life. Still, Luka found she couldn't help but glance sideways at her.

As Luka began to recognize the hallways leading to her room, she felt that she had to ask, “Meiko?”

“Yes?” her icy expression softened as she turned to look at her.

“Are you all right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw how the duke looked at you earlier, when he asked you about me,” she said, clutching the book tighter. “You’re… You’re not in trouble because of me?”

To her surprise, Meiko smiled. 

“Ah, don’t worry about that, by now you must have realized the extent of His Excellency’s manners, but he’s a good person,” the smile faded, then she added. “He may be a better duke, with all that entails, but he’s what has allowed us to prosper here.”

“I’m glad, then.”

And she was, but she didn’t think either of them was paying too much attention to the conversation by then.

When they finally arrived, Meiko at least allowed her to open the door to her own room. Just like that, she was back in her little cage.

“It’s early, but make sure you get some rest. You haven’t fully recovered.”

Which was her only goodbye, and the locking of the door the only sign that she was alone. Luka thought she was going to get sick from hearing that really soon. 

And she was indeed exhausted, but found only light, intermittent sleep despite the hours and hours she lay on the bed.

Since the window was closed, there was no wind to sway the curtains that hid her view outside, but from where she lay she could see a small fragment of the milky sky that surrounded her at the top of the tower.

She didn't know how long she kept her eyes fixed on that spot, until she heard someone knocking at the door.

She mumbled a groggy reply, then forced herself to get up. When it opened, she couldn't help but frown. It was who could only be Len's sister, indistinguishable from him except for the length of her hair, and unlike his pleasant expression, she was always accompanied by a stark, apathetic face. So far it was the first time they even looked each other in the eye.

“Good morning,” she said with the tone of someone who didn’t want to be there. “His Excellency is waiting for you in his office.”

“I see,” she sighted, beginning to guess what would become her new routine from now on.

“While you accompany him, I will be tidying up your room and…”

Luka closed the door halfway to block her way. 

“I can take care of my own room, thank you very much.”

The twin’s gaze soured. 

“The duke insists, I’m afraid,” she said. “As a courtesy.”

Luka gripped the doorknob tighter. Of course, to that extent she would be monitored. 

“Give me a second,” she said, and the twin seemed to recognize the defeat in her voice, because she stepped aside so Luka could close the door again. 

She walked back to her bed and lifted her pillow. It was a secret she guarded warily, the kind that was in short supply in her current situation: when neither her body nor her magic fully belonged to her, this was her only possession.

Upon the white sheets shone a knife.

It wasn't elegant, or valuable, and even the edge wasn’t particularly impressive, but it was hers and she clung to it even in her sleep. She had stolen it the first night, when Meiko led her through the kitchen, and no one noticed when she hid it under her shirt. Judging by the silence since then, no one had noticed it was missing. 

She knew that when it came to it, it would be useless. She had never wielded a weapon in her life, but still it felt like the most reliable protection she had. During those feverish days it was the only thing that had given her a sliver of solace.

She took it carefully. The obvious solution was to throw it into the sea. But as she approached the window it seemed to grow heavier in her hands, and she knew she couldn't do it.

She cursed under his breath, searching around for other options. The closet would be too obvious, just as the nightstand, in the bathroom would be the first thing to catch the eye.

In the end, she ended up kneeling in front of the vanity. Dubitatively, she slid her fingertips along the floor beneath it and came away covered in a thick layer of dust. It would have to do.

She pushed the knife as deep as she could. She would find a better hiding place later, but for now she could only pray that this one would hold.

Afterwards, she changed and washed her face. By the time she came out, the twin was still there, leaning against the wall, spinning the broomstick in her hands. Upon seeing her, she just gave her a look.

“I’ve met your brother,” Luka said, not sure why.

“He was always the talkative one of the two of us,” she muttered without much interest.

“But he hasn’t had the chance to introduce me to you.”

The girl looked up at her, looking vaguely taken aback, and the white bow on her head bobbed with the movement. Then she narrowed her eyes.

“You should hurry.”

She grabbed a bucket full of cleaning products and locked herself in her own room, leaving Luka with a feeling of emptiness and strangeness. It was embarrassing to admit, but people had never turned her away.

She thought she would have to make the journey alone, but met Meiko on the stairs. After the usual pleasantries, they walked in silence toward the duke.

Despite everything, part of Luka was still reluctant to approach that study, so it was almost a relief when she saw that it was Meiko who knocked on the door. Once Gakupo indicated that she could come in, she turned to Luka and gave her an encouraging smile.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

So it was a little easier to step into the darkness. 

“Miss Megurine, good morning,” Gakupo said, and Luka noticed that this time the pages of the open notebook on his desk were blank except for what she imagined was today’s date. “I assume you are feeling better.”

“I am.”

“And your magic? It hasn’t caused you any more trouble, I hope.”

“No.”

Gakupo’s shoulders seemed to relax.

“Perfect. It’s not a real solution, but it’ll buy us some time,” he gestured at her, and Luka could feel the weight of the cuffs more sharply. “You are not going to have those forever.”

“What’s the real solution, then?”

“I have no idea,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Even if I could do something, I would like to know as much as possible about your situation. It’s the prudent thing to do. Sit down.”

He pointed to the armchair in front of him, and Luka obeyed. Even sitting on the edge of the seat, she had the sensation of sinking into the leather. She still felt so tiny.

”Let's try this again: tell me everything you know. Maybe then we'll have something to go off of.”

Luka avoided his inquisitive gaze.

“What do you want me to say? What I told you…” she swallowed. “Everything I told you last time is true. And the only thing I know.”

Gakupo looked at her for a couple of seconds before answering. She struggled to keep her hands still and not to fidget with the fabric of her shirt. 

“Is that true? I’m sure I heard you mention something about fulfilling your mother’s dream.”

Her stomach twisted into a knot. Was that true?

“I said a lot of things. I don’t remember half of it.”

“I don’t see why that’s relevant.”

Luka bit the inside of her cheek, glancing at the notebook again. Her whole life had already been recorded in thousands of different chronicles, what was one more? Still she couldn't shake the nausea. She couldn't believe everything he was about to reveal to a perfect stranger.

“My mother had no magic, not one drop,” she began, and even Gakupo could not disguise his surprise. It was an exceptional thing, the vast majority of people had at least some control over an element, even if it was just manipulating water droplets or weak drafts. “Her whole life she spent in the orphanage, or on the streets, until she met my father at church. But he was always sickly, and during his last years my mother spent all their savings in order to cure him, but… By the time he died, she had nothing. Between poverty and the drought my mother and siblings were on the verge of death until I was born. You know the rest of the story.”

She settled back in the armchair.

“That was her dream, I think. A stable home, family, magic.”

Memories flooded Luka’s mind. The dresses, the walks in the market, the flowers in her hair, all the songs she taught her. Unable to stop, she continued. 

“For a while at least, I think she saw herself in me. When I was little. I was everything she could have wished to be.”

She returned to the present, and Gakupo didn't mention how tightly she held the armrests. Luka forced herself to cross her arms.

“Have you ever asked her about your magic?”

“Of course I did.”

Of course she had asked her, when she was younger, “Mom, why do I have these powers?” The answer was always the same. “It was a blessing from the Goddess, my love. You were born to protect us.” To protect her family, of course. Anyone else she saved would be purely incidental, the miraculous storms she called upon happy coincidences. 

She had once been satisfied with the explanation. It was what everyone said, after all, she had no reason to doubt.

She only began to question it a couple of years later, when the accidents and outbursts began to get worse, but by then Chika had closed in on herself with that impenetrable shell, so she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Because she knew that her mother would not be able to repeat to her the same lie she had told her for all those years, so what would she say? would she just look at her with those crystallized and miserable eyes? would she fall into an even deeper spiral because of her?

Maybe, if she had no more scruples left, she would tell her she didn't know anything.

Which would be another lie. An obvious one, moreover. Because by the time Kiyoteru died Chika had two children she couldn't feed and no roof over their heads. A third would have killed her, it would have killed them all.

Had she not known Luka would secure a future for them, had she not planned for it at all, Chika would have thrown herself down the stairs over and over again before giving birth to another child. 

Luka knew her enough to be sure of that. 

“I never managed to get her to talk.”

And now it was too late to try again. 

She had always told herself that she could not allow Chika's catatonia to worsen. She feared that any misstep would sever the thin thread that bound her to reality. And she was still her mother, after all. They still needed her.

But perhaps the only thing that had kept her from asking was her own cowardice, because she didn't know what she would do if the answer was horrible.

Gakupo seemed to notice the uneasiness on her face. On the contrary, his expression was impossible for her to read.

Luka did not even suggest sending a letter. Even if Galaco hadn't forbidden it, even if they could find a way to get it to Itith despite the hundreds of eyes watching her fervently, she doubted his mother would even bother to open it.

The room fell into a deep silence. Their only clue vanished before they even knew what it was.

“We will have to make it work,” Gakupo said, more as if he were trying to convince himself than her.

Still Gakupo jotted something down quickly on the paper. From her angle she couldn't see what it said.

What followed were routine questions, nothing Luka hadn't already answered a million times for as long as she could remember. With Gakupo stopping every so often to write something down, the familiarity of the scene almost made her feel safe. What stood out was just one thing.

“And are you sure you can't control shadow?”

Luka tensed up. 

“So, no,” Gakupo shrugged. “I had to try. I considered the possibility that you had hidden it at the time of your trial in order to avoid further condemnation.”

She had imagined it herself many times, but hearing it from someone else's lips a visceral part of her, one she feared she could never get rid of, couldn't help but recoil. The very idea was blasphemous.

“No,” she said quietly. “They are opposites. It would be impossible.”

“I thought of that too, but then again, so are water and fire, aren’t they?”

Luka wanted to retort back with that instinctive knowledge everyone had, that light and shadow could only ever destroy one another, but then it seemed to her that Gakupo was looking not at her, but at some point behind her. Before she could turn around, he shook his head.

“Excuse me, it was only a theory. Let’s continue.”

In spite of herself, something in Luka's chest had actually expected that her story had been useful, that whatever hidden knowledge she had been promised the duke possessed would come to light. However, the wrinkle between Gakupo's brows told her otherwise.

So, to her surprise, he slammed the notebook shut.

“Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the library. There must be something I have overlooked,” he turned to her. “Rather, I’m counting on you to find something.”

“Me?”

Gakupo opened the door. Luka had no choice but to get up too and follow him.

“You are the one who knows your magic best,” he said. “Hardly any of these texts have left the duchy. The only thing I can think of at the moment is that there is something that only you can notice.”

Luka had to pause for a second. It was not an absurd supposition, but she had spent so many hours of her life reading, hoping to find between pages answers that she never found. Hope was such a hurtful thing to lose.

But Gakupo kept walking, and she had to keep going.

Some of the terror that had flooded her last time had faded, so now she was able to look carefully around the library. Everywhere she turned there were bookshelves and armchairs and chandeliers and the occasional portrait staring down at them from the wall. Most of the people in them, like Gakupo, had horns. On the temples of others and peeking out from under shirt collars shone iridescent scales. A woman with a gentle smile rested a pair of clawed hands in her lap.

Luka couldn't help but stop in front of a white-haired girl, and thought of the mural she had seen in Galaco's palace. Lily, in all her glory, staring coldly at Rath'ia, bleeding out on the floor. She wondered if she was Gakupo's ancestry.

Reaching a bookshelf that covered the entire wall, Luka carefully picked up one of the first books dealing with magic and opened it to a random page. As she expected, more equations and theory she couldn't understand.

“How different are both schools?” she asked with uncertainty. “They might not be compatible at all.”

“They have to be reconcilable enough,” he guessed, looking at the tome she held.”I have not devoted my studies to Lily’s magic either, you see. But the runes on the cuffs worked. We have to try.”

Gakupo massaged his temples.

“I have a couple of volumes in mind that we could start with. I can go get them. If there is anything you are interested in feel free to take it,” after a brief pause he added, “Due to extraordinary circumstances, there is nothing forbidden to you here.”

They didn't say much more after that. In fact, the only times she saw Gakupo again was when he would quietly return to drop a couple of books on the table, or at her side, and disappear again.

Some hours later, Luka had grown tired of continuing to work on the same lines, and had gotten up to go through the sideboards herself, taking note of the various works there, and the occasional object that had been forgotten over time (pens, half-written notes, buttons), hindered only by the dust that covered everything, and the seemingly arbitrary order in which everything was.

She was so engrossed in her task that she did not notice Gakupo watching her a few feet away. He ignored her startle.

“There's some business I have to attend to. It will take a couple of hours, I'll have to leave you until then,” he said dryly, and Luka felt that at last breathing would be a little easier. “I left some books that might talk about solar magic on that table,” that little happiness in Luka's chest was smothered. More study.

As he turned to leave, Luka couldn't help but stop him.

“Wait. I want the key to my room.”

“The key to your room,” he repeated.

Luka nodded.

“Ever since I got here I've been herded like cattle from one locked room to another. You could at least pretend I'm not your prisoner.”

“Between you and me, Miss, neither of us is particularly free.”

“But you can come and go as you please. I have to wait for your permission just to look out the window.”

“It is for your safety,” he said, then added caustically. “And that of others.”

Luka didn't allow herself to retract, she swallowed the pain of the injury and folded her arms.

After a minute, Gakupo sighed.

As he began to rummage in his pocket, Luka acknowledged with loathing that she was not surprised that Gakupo did indeed keep the key with him at all times.

“This is a right I was going to hand over to you eventually, for the record,” he said as if to nobody in particular. “I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t cause any trouble first.”

Finally, he held out a heavy brass key. Luka held it tightly in her hand, the teeth biting down her palm.

“During the day you are free to wander as you please in the west wing of the castle, the central garden, and the library,” he said. “Assume that any orders from Meiko or Len come from me. Do not speak to anyone but them.”

Luka fidgeted with the key in her hands.

“I ran into Len’s twin in the morning. What about her?”

“Ah, Rin,” said Gakupo like he hadn’t occurred to him to think about that until now. “Because of her closeness to Len I couldn’t keep her away from you even if I wanted to, but she won’t really go much beyond her cleaning duties.”

“So no orders from her.”

“No. I consider I am doing her a favor by relieving her from being responsible for you. She has neither the interest nor the character to do so.”

“Then relieve her,” she demanded with an extenuated heart. “I never asked for this. I don’t need anyone prying into my stuff when I have so little left.”

Again, that undecipherable change in Gakupo’s eyes For the first time he seemed to vacillate. 

“I know. I only want to make sure everything is in order. Rin has orders to be as least invasive as possible, and she will only pass by once a week. So I ask for your patience.”

“Goddess, what other harm could I do to you? Am I so horrible that you need to surveil me like this?”

Gakupo looked at her. 

“No. It’s not you I’m worried about. Now is not the time, I will explain later,” a very slight nod seemed to act as a farewell. “I will leave the door unlocked.”

Under Len's company, Luka waited for Gakupo's return amidst piles of books that she leafed through without much concentration and half-eaten meals. She still wanted answers, but by dusk, it was obvious he would not be back. 

Len excused him with a shrug and a rueful smile. He assured her that the duke would make it up to her. In the meantime, she allowed herself to be escorted to her room.

Of course. She didn't know what else she had expected.

To her relief, when she crouched down in front of the dressing table again, she discovered that the knife was still exactly where she had left it. Not even the dust around it had been disturbed.

She stretched her arm to reach it, and wiped it on the fabric of her pants. For the time being, there should be no problem if she kept it under her pillow at night.

After dark, when she turned off the light she had an idea, or rather a question burning at the back of her mind. 

She took a couple of steps away from her bed until she was at the center of the room, and extended her arms in front of her. 

She didn’t even know why she was doing this, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what Gakupo had said. So much had changed. She had changed and the metal that glistened around her wrists was, for better or for worse, proof of that much. 

Then she closed her eyes and searched within herself the power she had never been able to master. She set aside the sunlight that rose to the call, calmed down the stone that threatened to rumble beneath her feet and the salty wind that would have captured her in the eye of the hurricane.

She even ignored the guilt that still caused her to dabble in the blaspheme, everything she was taught to be sacrilegious. 

Of course, all she found when she opened her eyes again was her flexed fingers, seeking to hold on to the only thing that would never be hers, that darkness that even now refused to help her. 

Notes:

I just so happened to find out that a very effective way to stop procrastinating my fanfics is to start procrastinating bigger, meaner university projects. This chapter is a cry for help.

Chapter 10: Theories, theorems, poems

The freedom should have been dizzying.

Luka should have run through corridors and atriums, up and down stairs, opened every door she came across, seized for herself every secret the dormant fortress held.

So it was puzzling when she didn’t. All Luka did was lie motionless on her bed, turning the key in her hands, running her fingers over its scratches and grooves, tracing its outline with her thumb. In that cool darkness of unlit candles and drawn curtains she was the ghost haunting her own room.

Unwittingly, the habit had followed her even then, on the couch in Gakupo’s library. She was so engrossed fidgeting with they key inside her pocket that she didn’t even notice her name being called.

When she finally looked up, she met with Gakupo’s frown.

“You are listening, are you not?”

Luka nodded before she had fully understood the question.

“As I was saying…” he continued, which meant her lie had been obvious. “Most of the knowledge here is considered sacrilegious by your Church, so at least we can count on it being new information for you.”

Luka glanced with wariness at the books that surrounded them, many of them so old they might crumble to the touch, some untitled, others differentiated only by the small symbols (a dagger, or a moon) carved on the spines.

“Do you really think we’ll find anything here?”

“We must try,” he said. “Many of these books haven’t been touched in generations, and even I don’t know the full extent of the library. It’s a slim hope, but it’s all we have.”

Hope. A part of her still refused to believe. What was really the chance that she would discover something no one else before her had? It seemed so stupid, so impossible.

By far, it wouldn't be the first time she would stay up for entire nights, surrounded by books she had thrown on the floor and with her vision blurred by tears and all the hours in of searching for answers she wouldn't find.

She feared she couldn't take more of that.

To shake off the feeling she reached for one of the books closer to her, the title read Aria of Darkness.

“And if we don’t find anything?”

“Then we will have to do what you have been doing so far, I’m afraid,” he said. “Try to brute force an antidote that works.”

“I suppose your knowledge of alchemy is also unholy and unknown to the light.”

“Hardly. Alchemy is your specialty, you see,” then he added. “If that’s the case, I will come up with something, but we have to deal with this first.”

That didn't bode particularly well either, but something else caught her attention.

“You’re an alchemist?”

“On occasion,” he cocked his head as if to play it down. “It has its uses.”

Luka couldn’t help but think his frivolity would have infuriated several thaumaturges she had met. Magic had its studies, of course, but it was after all intuitive and practiced as an art. Alchemy, on the other hand, was a rigorous science that many scholars had devoted their lives to understanding.

Then she remembered the book she held. Its golden motifs caught the light faintly.

“Who is Aria?”

“You know her by another name, I think.”

She was about to object, but something clicked in her head.

“Raht’ia?”

Gakupo nodded.

“Your people had to make a demon out of her, but yes,” he said. “Maybe you have heard of her by the name of Ia, as she was supposedly called in life”

It didn’t ring a bell. Luka looked at the cover again and frowned.

“Your goddess?”

“No. She was just a girl, more like a martyr, if anything.”

“I always thought she was a deity, like Lily is to light. It’s what I’ve been taught all my life.”

“Shadows have no master nor lord. Ia was an extremely powerful elemental. Just that,” Gakupo said, then added bitterly. “Had she been the force you think she was, perhaps we would live in a different world.”

It was obvious that the wound still hurt, even now. It was what had led to Gakupo's empty reign, after all. Luka watched his grim face for a couple of seconds.

“Light was supposed to arrive sooner or later, you know,” she said quietly, he looked at her sideways. “If it hadn’t been Lily, it would have been someone else, maybe the earth itself. It’s natural law, no one could have changed that. Not even Ra… Not even Ia.”

It had once been a principle as constant as gravity. Where there was darkness, light must coexist. If fire ran through Kyo's veins, Kokone must control the water as if it were an extension of herself.

That balance was fleeting, then, of course, the scales tipped. With the corruption of the Black Sun and the dawns—however those had come to be—, there was little left that remained pure. Even in Luka’s day and age it was a concept almost completely dispensed with.

Luka couldn't help but think of Rin, her sour voice and empty hands. If her brother was a dark mage, she knew what he meant to her.

Because of whatever had shattered the order so many thousands of years ago, people like Rin had no magic, and Luka existed.

“I am aware,” was his grim reply. “Light is not the problem. The problem is that Lily intended to irradiate the whole world. Ia’s rebellion was the balance you speak of, and by now you must have realized how that ended for us.”

It was this kind of talk that made Luka want to crawl out of her own skin.

“We should focus,” Gakupo declared at last. “Read about Aria, if it is of your interest. We can’t afford to discard information.”

Luka nodded, not knowing what else to do. Then she opened the book again, and as she flipped through it she saw the intricate embellishments in the margins, the elegant pensmanship, some illustrations, nothing out of place, so Luka couldn't place what she was looking for, but when she didn’t find it, she turned back to the first page.

“The world used to be covered in shadows…”

The rest of the afternoon was unremarkable, to tell the truth. Luka found studying to be as fascinating as it was tedious. Although for the first time in her life the texts she was reading didn’t regurgitate the same theory she had seen almost to the point of memorization, progress seemed nil and exasperating.

It had been interesting to find out more about Ia, at least, when all her previous inquiries had concluded in little beyond the fact that she was a demon to be annihilated.

There was no mention of her childhood or youth, it seemed that until she rebelled against Lily she had been non-existent. Her entire life had been reduced to that moment.

None of the conflict was described as a war, but as the relentless attack a city besieged on all fronts. Until the Black Sun, of course.

Whatever book she looked at, it was the only thing she could find. The Black Sun this, the Black Sun that. Theories, theorems, poems.

She found nothing of use, but for the moment nothing contradicted the knowledge she already had. That in itself was close to a miracle, having had to untangle myth from truth would have been yet another unsurmountable task.

From time to time she would ask Gakupo something, or check certain historical records. She hadn’t given much thought to that until she caught him looking at her.

“You have studied this before” he said in a tone that made it hard to guess if he was asking a question or affirming it.

Luka bit the inside of her cheek.

“As much as I could. In Itith I had access to the town’s historical archive, I even requested some documents from the capital, back in the day. I never found what I was looking for.”

It was only half an answer, but Gakupo seemed satisfied.

“You talk like a scholar,” he muttered as if to himself.

A few hours later Gakupo had to excuse himself, leaving her alone. Only Len would suddenly peek in quietly to check that everything was in order under poor pretexts like lighting candles or dusting shelves, which was only moderately unbearable, but soon even his presence faded in Luka's mind.

She thought she was used to it, but as the hours passed the sting of frustration was beginning to sting in her throat and behind her eyes. Therefore, she couldn't help but startle when a silver tray was shoved in her face. The instinct to summon the sun was already burning in her clenched fists when she looked up and met Len's smiling face. Oh. She unflexed her muscles.

“Sorry, did I startle you? I thought you should eat something.”

He removed the lid to reveal a steaming teapot and small sandwiches cut in circles. To Luka’s astonishment, he continued.

“They’re cute, aren’t they? I made the myself. His Excellency says that using only half the bread is a waste, but I thought you should try them. You don't seem to be fond of full-course dinners.

Still puzzled, Luka took one between her index finger and thumb.

“Do you work in the kitchen?”

“As head servant, I work wherever I’m needed. At His Excellency's request I used to devote my full time to the study of black magic, but he didn't always have the time to instruct me, and a hand is needed everywhere. I usually run some errands or help my sister with cleaning.”

He set the tray down on a nearby table and clasped his hands behind his back, expectantly. Luka had forgotten she was still holding the sandwich in her hand. She forced herself to take a cautious bite.

How irritating. They were cute and delicious. Her expression must have given her away, because Len didn't even try to hide his satisfaction.

“Do you like them? I used to make them for Rin all the time when we were kids.”

“They taste good. Uhm, you shouldn't have bothered.”

“Nonsense. It’s no bother at all,” he chirped, pouring a cup of tea that Luka received with both hands. Then he sat down across from her.

For once, Luka was grateful for Len’s idle conversation, which allowed her to push indecipherable theses and unsolvable dilemmas away from her head, though she had to remind herself to take a sip of tea or grab another sandwich every once in a while.

“I had assumed you were Gakupo's personal butler,” said Luka when the subject came up again.

Len's laugh was uproarious, and seemed to dissolve the gray anguish that had permeated the room.

“You know, I might as well be. I'm the one who always ends up doing his paperwork and representing him at events he doesn't want to go to.”

Luka smiled in spite of herself and leaned to the side until her head on the armrest of the chair.

“Why am I not surprised.”

Len returned the gesture.

“You look exhausted.”

“The duke summoned at the crack of dawn,” she said, hugging a worn cushion to her chest. “It's nothing. I've had worse sleepless nights.”

“Still, maybe you should stop for the day. You won't find anything if you're about to pass out—“ he immediately grimaced. “Ugh, sorry, bad choice of words. I still haven't recovered from last time’s scare.”

“It's okay. Soon you'll be begging me to faint again, it's usually the most harmless thing that happens around me.”

“And miss that charming, cheerful personality of yours?”

“How funny.”

“Come on, it's getting dark, and I'm sure His Excellency wouldn't like to see you hanging around at this hour.”

Luka frowned and straightened up a bit.

“You seem to think I really am about to faint. If books could kill, I’d be dead long ago.”

“Ah, but they’re formidable foes,” he said, but after the acid look Luka shot him, he continued. “These are His Excellency’s orders. You can’t wander around the castle at night.”

Luka averted her gaze, but decided against fighting fights she knew she wasn’t going to win.

“I know.”

“He has been rather busy these days, going by what he told me. That’s why he had to leave you.”

Maybe so. Luka grabbed a couple of volumes and left the library when Len opened the door for her.

After that, Len offered to help her carry the books, but they exchanged no further words. However, he must have noticed something wrong with her bearing, or perhaps the way she dragged her feet, because he turned to her and asked.

“Luka, are you all right?”

And it was alarming how a single question was able to undo her.

“I don’t want to go back,” she confessed helplessly. After the hint of warmth she had been shown, returning to the lonely monotony of her room was unbearable. She felt pathetic.

She hadn't expected anything else, but Len's compassion came as a relief all the same.

“Well, I’m sure there’s no problem if we take the long path,” he said after a second's consideration. “Tell me, have you seen the gardens?”

Only through windows, and out the corner of her eye. She had completely forgotten about things like that (and she wouldn't have liked to test Gakupo’s limits either). Her false freedom had been a practical strategy, a desperate attempt to gather her resources and regain her dignity.

So it was embarrassing to admit that such was a fantasy she still craved.

Len led her through some paths and shortcuts that—due to her usual limited schedule—she didn't know. Galleries and ballrooms that had witnessed their last party decades, or maybe centuries, ago. Most such halls had fallen into disuse, Len admitted, but Gakupo tried to keep them in shape as much as possible, especially the war room. That once would have indicated a belligerent nature, but now Luka could only feel deep sorrow.

Indeed, not even Len dared extend a real invitation to the gardens, but reckoned that standing on the doorstep was safe. Even there the wind stirred their hair gently.

It was a pleasant change. So far she hadn't realized that all she had breathed for the past few weeks was the same stagnant, dusty air of her room. The peaceful blue sea she had been promised in her childhood had turned out to be a lie, but at least the murmur of its waves and scent of salt was similar to what she had imagined.

In the darkness of night, she couldn't make out much of the landscape, but when she looked up and saw the moon among twinkling stars, she remembered that it was after all the same sky she saw in Itith. She had survived then, she would survive this too. She had to.

She snapped out of her reverie when she saw out of the corner of her eye Len stretching and shifting his weight from one foot to the other as if he didn't realize what he was doing. When he noticed her looking at him, he turned to her properly and smiled.

“Better?”

“Somewhat. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he ran his thumb along the spine of one book. “Let’s go back.”

And this time she really couldn't complain. Again, Len led her down a new path not often traversed by guards, much as Meiko or Gakupo did. He himself had told her not to talk to them, but perhaps Luka had underestimated the degree to which they sought to hide her.

Still, she found a certain childish glee in stalking the castle like that, sneaking around, as if she really did have an accomplice at her side.

Until they ran into the duke.

Luka took a step back. She had yet to get used to the frigid terror she felt each time she saw him.

She felt a familiar burning in his fingertips and a terror she had yet to get used to.

“Luka,” he exhaled. She vaguely registered that he forgot to call her by her last name when she took him by surprise. “What are you—?”

A glimmer behind him, in Meiko’s hands and in the rest of the servant’s. Luka forgot her fear and passed him by. And it was all a joke. It had to be.

A few feet away from her, so out of place and yet so familiar that it took her forever to recognize them. Suitcases, bags, some hers, but she would recognize wherever the wear and soot on some that could only have been caused by Kyo, the delicate embroidery done by Kokone's patient hands on others. One she had only seen before in Chika's room.

The memory hit her hard enough to knock her out. She heard Kyo's words in the carriage so clearly she'd swear he was beside her.

“She told us she’d pack your bags to send them to you, then locked herself in her room.”

Her bags, not Kyo's or Kokone's, just her own. Chika knew from the beginning, because she was bright despite her self-inflicted stupor, her siblings would not stick around to watch her become a weapon of war or Galaco's pet. They would all return home to the normal lives they should have led for the past two decades. Luka, the cause of all their pain and suffering, would be cast aside in a distant castle at the mercy of a demon.

“Where did you get this from?” she asked in a low voice. Her head was spinning. “Gakupo, why do you have this?”

Gakupo looked at her with something that might as well have been disinterest. With a gesture, he ordered his servants to go on without him. As he passed her, Meiko did not even glance at her.

“Calm down, first of all,” he said. Luka, helpless, could only watch as they walked away in their orderly marching. “I didn’t know anything either, it only arrived today from the capital.”

Then he looked at Len and narrowed his eyes, continuing with lethal causticity.

“And you. You couldn’t have chosen a better time to arrive with our distinguished guest.”

Len shrugged apologetically.

“I'm sorry, Your Excellency. You know this is the sort of thing I couldn’t accomplish if I tried to do it on purpose.”

Gakupo's expression did not change, but there was something on his face that conveyed something very close to rolling his eyes.

“They're headed for the east wing,” Luka interrupted, fed up with the taunts and secrets. “That belongs to me. Give it back.”

“Of course, that's my intention,” but as if he did intend to crush under his boot any hint of a good impression he might leave on her, he continued. “But you’ll have to wait a couple of hours, I'm afraid. It's not safe.”

“Not safe?”

“I just need you to understand.”

“By the Goddess, are you crazy? Let me have this, I ask for nothing more.”

“I must make sure that—”

“Just what is your problem?! Each time I start thinking you might not be a monster you come up with something like this!”

Which was, of all things, what seemed to end his patience at last. The anger in his eyes was enough to smother the courage with which Luka had managed to arm herself.

“Len, take her to her room. This time for real.”

“Yes, your excellency.”

Len bowed briefly, but by then Gakupo had already turned away. Meanwhile, the wrath that scorched Luka from the inside out eclipsed the certainty that she had he certainty that she had made a grave mistake.

She heard Len call her name with a hint of urgency, reiterating that they had to leave. Luka took a deep breath, regaining her composure as much as the trembling in her hands would allow. Without Len having to guide her, she started walking in the opposite direction of the last remaining piece of her home.

She didn't even notice the way to her room. But Len stood there in the doorway and the slight worry on his face was dissonant.

“Luka. I know you're upset, but perhaps it would be wise for you to wait to be called by the duke tomorrow.”

“Of course,” she said, though she wasn't sure how she managed to spit out the words that tasted like bile in her mouth.

“Of course. Thank you. And... I'm sorry this happened.”

He shook his head goodbye, then the sound of the lock echoed through the place.

Dazed, Luka collapsed onto the mattress, holding her head in her hands. She felt sick. She didn't know how long she spent like that, but soon she forced herself to get up, wash her face, brush her hair.

She had tried to lie still on her bed, she really had, but every second she remained still was torturous, like the admission of defeat.

A couple of hours, he said. A few hours and she could return, if only for a moment, to Itith.

But just surviving the night seemed impossible. More importantly, what would Gakupo do during that time? What was so dangerous that it was so necessary keeping it away from her?

The image of the duke rummaging through her things. His fingers sliding over the fabric of her clothes, holding her most precious items in his hands, daring to rest his eyes on any letter, any note her siblings had hidden.

She spent the rest of the night folded in on herself.

At dawn, she ended up in the library; she had nowhere else to go. Still, she felt that trying to keep up with her usual routine killed her a little inside. She halfheartedly picked at a breakfast, fell asleep on the couch a couple of times. She only reacted when she saw Len appear from behind a bookcase, but before she could ask for news he shook his head, looking ashamed.

Although they didn't say much more after that, Len kept her company for a while, and when he had to leave, it was Rin who he gave the task of keeping an eye on her. She didn't look particularly happy to have been given the assignment, but she didn't complain.

Luka hadn’t known what to expect from her, but the silence in which they both remained was almost comfortable. Rin took the opportunity to dust shelves and do some cleaning around, then vanished from time to time. Luka didn't even pretend to do anything. Every time she tried to open a book her gaze slid to the grandfather clock tucked in the corner, and the lazy back-and-forth swing of its pendulum.

Luka tried to convince herself that she was better than his instincts, but with every minute her patience was came apart.

“The duke…” Luka risked when a couple of hours had passed.

“Unavailable,” was Rin’s curt reply, then she added. “He’s not even in his office.”

Luka clenched her hands into fists.

“What is he even doing?”

Rin narrowed her eyes in disdain.

“How would I know?”

And she thought she heard something beyond mere contempt in her voice that kept her from dwelling on it any further.

When the sky began to turn orange, Luka could stand it no longer, rose from her chair and strode across the library.

“Where are you going?” asked Rin, not without some bafflement, but Luka didn’t answer.

Luka had tried to trust, at least Len, if not Gakupo. She had tried to behave, not to repeat her past mistakes, but life had never been so obliging. This was the only way she knew.

She had never approached the east wing, she had never had reason to. She didn't even know what made it so forbidden, but it was where the duke spent most of his time.

And now she stood in front of its threshold. With so few candles lit, the dark hallway in front of her seemed to stretch to infinity.

Even the temperature seemed to drop as suddenly as she took a step in, the very howling of the wind hushed. The only thing audible was the echo of her footsteps against the floor and the pounding of her heart against her chest. But she had come too far to regret it, so she continued on.

The windows were few and small, high up in the walls, so even the moon and its light could not accompany her. And she was so blind this time, with no idea where to go. Her palms pricked with the familiar instinct to summon the light, and it was painful to keep it down it, but she was conspicuous as it was.

Other than that, not much had changed in appearance compared to the rest of the building, still the corridors seemed more labyrinthine, the stairs steeper, and the air itself heavier. She feared that the crude path back that she was trying to trace in her mind would soon begin to fade.

The feeling of suffocation never left her, the anger that had driven her had been reduced to dying embers. She found that the rooms behind the doors she knocked on were empty, and no one answered when she forced herself to call Gakupo's name.

Everything indicated that she was indeed alone, but Luka could never quite believe it.

In light of that, she shouldn't have been surprised when her back slammed against the wall and pain exploded through her spine. The split second it took to extend her hands must have been indication enough that she was going to use magic, because the knee that struck her stomach knocked the air from her lungs. Immobilized, she couldn't even unfurl needles from the stone behind her that would stab her assailant.

Which turned out to be a good outcome, after all, because the one holding the blade so few inches away from her neck was Meiko.

“Luka?” with a blink, her eyes went from murderous determination to bewilderment. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Then she seemed to remember with a start that she should let her go. She pulled away from her as if her skin burned to the touch, and Luka's legs could only collapse under her own weight. She folded in on herself, trying to catch her breath in pants, suppressing the reflex to vomit in her hands. From above, Meiko watched her with the expression of someone who had broken an expensive vase.

Luka tried to answer, to say anything, but her slurred words could never leave her lips. And when she found she could speak again she was left with only the still humiliation of her tear-logged eyes and trembling limbs.

At last Meiko deigned to kneel in front of her.

“Hey,” she whispered in what he must have thought was a comforting voice. “Luka, you can't be here. We have to go.”

She helped her up, holding most of Luka's weight she began to walk at a pace she felt she couldn't keep up, not when she felt she couldn't fill her lungs no matter how deep she breathed.

“Come on, you're okay. I'm sorry,” she would coo every time Luka slowed down. “Come on, walk.”

They made their way through the dense darkness. Even in her condition, it was evident when the oppressive atmosphere lifted off they shoulders as they exited the east wing. Still, the rest of the walk to his room felt eternal, even as Luka regained some of her own equilibrium and breathing ceased to be a losing battle.

Luka couldn’t find the strength to speak until she crossed the threshold of her room.

“Were you following me all this time?” she managed to ask, noting with horror her breathless voice.
“For Aria’s sake, why would I do that? No. I pinned you down as soon as I saw you,” her gaze fell for a second on her belly “I didn't know it was you, of course. Idiot, what were you thinking?”

Partly to preserve what little dignity she had left, and partly out of the conviction that she could not utter another word without regurgitating, she said nothing. She was only able to hold Meiko's gaze as he closed the door in her face. She kept her key, at least, but she had no doubt she would be be receiving the prisoner treatment from now on.

But that was the furthest thing from her mind.

It wasn't the first time she’d stayed up all night, nor was it particularly unusual to cling so tightly to his knife for hours on end as if the need to use it would actually arise or, worse, as if it would do any good in the worst-case scenario.

The bathtub was a novelty, however.

There was one thing Luka could be sure of and that was her eyes. She didn't have perfect eyesight, but as cursed as the gold of her irises was it had never deceived her. As a child she had never seen shadows where there were none, nor lurking silhouettes in her peripheral vision. In other words, she was not crazy. Thank the Goddess insanity was not something she had to deal with on her growing list of misfortunes.

So what was it that was following her through the halls? There was nothing every time she turned behind her, but its entire presence permeated the halls, similar in sensation to a faint breathing behind down neck.

Something unlike the presence of any other human Luka had ever met.

It wasn't the first time Luka had spent the night awake, but hugging her knees inside a damp tub, next to a puddle of vomit resulting from the last retch she couldn't keep down, making a pathetic attempt to cradle her wounded stomach while clutching a knife in anticipation of an attack she knew would never come was a new low.

Notes:

A riveting update about books and sandwiches.

Chapter 11: It had to be you

It was a desperate and contradictory survival instinct that made Luka rip the cuffs from her wrists. Though perhaps such was saying a lot. Rather than taking them off, Luka opened them one at a time and resisted with reckless obstinacy the waves of magic that came crashing down on her. She endured retching on a floor that grew hotter and hotter around her and also swallowed down her nascent screams. 

She spent the rest of the night through a consciousness that faded at times, and when she awoke with a start from the nebulous stupor of pain she found herself mid prayer, or convinced that there was something about to pounce on her. 

She didn’t think dawn would ever come. By the time the bathroom was flooded with the pale blue light of morning break, the only sign that she would survive was the faint melody ringing in her ears amidst the deafening turmoil of magic and her own throbbing heart. 

Luka forced herself to open her eyes, and found that the cuff that had slipped from her fingers had fallen a short distance from her. It still took the last of her strength to reach out and close it once more around her arm. The relief was sickeningly immediate. She let out a shaky breath.  

Somehow she managed to stand and stagger to the sink, where she had to lean against the cold porcelain. Her reflection was just as discomforting. She had bled more than she expected, finding reddish scabs under her fingernails and even caked in her hair. She was all bloodshot eyes and ashen skin. The worst was her own expression, both terrified and exhausted and so ugly, she wanted to pull her hair and scream. 

Still, she was alive. She had made it to morning. 

She reeled once more into the tub to scrub the sticky, sweet-smelling residue that had mixed with her sweat from her skin. There she noticed the bright purple bruise that had bloomed on her abdomen. Luka stared at it with disdain, she was sure that whatever she’d have to go through in Galaco’s palace, at least such frivolous injuries wouldn’t be a part of it. 

She continued to run a cautious finger around the blurred green and yellow edges of the wound even after draining the water and cleaning the bathroom and daring to finally lie down on the bed, where she heard knocking on the door. 

“Luka? Are you awake?” she was surprised to hear Meiko’s muffled voice from outside. It was still early even for her usual summonings. 

Luka swallowed hard, but got up and opened the door. Meiko looked uneasy as it was, but she sucked in a breath at the sight of her. 

“Shit, what happened to you?” the wrinkle between her eyebrows deepened. “Yesterday you weren’t… I didn’t―I didn’t do this to you, did I? 

Luka felt sorry for Meiko, but she didn’t have the heart to tell her that the worst of the damage had been her own doing. 

“I’m fine,” which was a blatant lie, but before she could protest, Luka interrupted. “Meiko. I’m fine.”

The effort it took her to stop insisting was evident just by the way she chewed her lip. 

“We need to talk,” she said at last, looking somewhere past her. “Follow me.”

Had it not been for the sunlight bathing the castle, Luka doubted she would have been able to even leave the room. It was cruel, almost laughable, that she was now forced to find solace in the thing that had tormented her all her life.

However, the tension that had twisted her stomach into a knot loosened a little when she realized where Meiko was leading her. It turned out that the dining room with the mismatched chairs that Gakupo had brought her to the first night was behind the kitchen, and it was where Len invited her to eat from time to time, especially when she was feeling particularly morose or melancholic, he must have noticed it lifted her spirits a little. She couldn’t help it; the bustle of the kitchen and the smell of freshly cooked food created a cozy, everyday space. It was a pleasant change from the rest of the castle, so cold and gray. 

She wasn’t surprised to see that Len was indeed already there, pouring coffee from a gurgling carafe. The scene was harmless, but even in that fragile piece of serenity she had found, she didn’t notice how much her legs were shaking until she collapsed into one of the chairs. 

“Good morning, Luka,” he greeted, still engrossed in his labor of setting out silverware and tablecloths. “Sorry to bother you so earl—”

Even he couldn't hide his shock at seeing her. He blinked a couple of times, then his gaze fell on Meiko.

“Well, you got roughed up worse than I was told,” he said matter-of-factly, then returned to the forks in his hand. “Are you okay?”

Luka ignored him, reached for a mug, but didn’t do anything with it. Len sat down beside her, taking a slice of bread that he seemed to have no intention of eating.

“Meiko told me about everything a while ago,” he said, scraping the crust of the loaf with his fingernail. “By which I mean she barged into my room at four in the morning, of course.”

He showed a small smile, but no one seemed to share his sense of humor. He cleared his throat and continued.

“I’m sorry. I feel like this is my fault too. I should have understood better how you were feeling. I myself don’t know the lengths I’d go to if I were separated from Rin like that.”

Luka analyzed Len carefully, but before she could discern whether he was being genuine or this was more of his usual condescension, Meiko continued.

“The point,” she said. She remained standing beside them. “Is that we have a proposition, should you be willing to accept it.”

That’s when she couldn’t avert her gaze any longer. 

“A proposition.”

“I have not informed the duke of what has happened, and judging by his silence, neither has he learned of it by any other means,” she declared, and though she maintained her firm bearing, her irresolution was evident. “I’m sorry I hurt you yesterday, I was just following protocol.”

“Shoot first and ask questions later?” Luka blurted out, putting a hand to the offended area. 

“Exactly. His Excellency’s orders.”

She should have known. Luka pinched the bridge of her nose, Meiko continued.

“Listen. This isn’t a good look for me either. Attacking you, of all people… I don’t know how I could have let that happen.”

Meiko sat down in front of her. Luka's breath hitched as she took her hand.

“Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll check your wound, if it’s not too serious, the duke doesn’t need to know about any of this. And if you were seen by anyone yesterday we’ll tell them you were summoned on urgent and confidential business. That way we’ll all walk away unscathed,” a brief pause. “Is that alright?”

Up until then she had imagined so vividly that she would be thrown into a cell that she would still be surprised if she didn’t leave the dining room in chains. So after a second Luka could only force herself to nod like an idiot. Then Meiko released her with a sigh of relief. 

“Alright. Len, would you mind locking the doors?”

Luka lay down on the chairs Meiko lined up for her, and barely winced as she did so. She lifted her shirt when prompted, and this time had to turn her face to the opposite corner of the room.

Under Luka's consent, Len also had a look. “Don't tell me you're also a doctor. ” she said, half expecting him to tell her about his extensive studies at some distant university. “ Not at all, Meiko is the one doing all the hard work here, it's just that Rin used to get into a lot of trouble when we were kids. I was the one who had to take care of her, ” and at the hint of wistfulness in his voice, she didn't dare inquire further about it.

However, as Meiko felt around her torso and asked her how much it hurt (not much, to be honest), she couldn't help but ask, “Are you really not afraid of him?”

“Of Gakupo?” Meiko said, whether it was because she was concentrating on her task or for some other reason, she didn’t answer straight away. “No.”

“These seem like very drastic measures for someone who isn’t afraid,” she said, glancing at the supplies Len had brought. Compresses, arnica, bandages. 

Meiko pursed her lips. 

“Maybe I was a little dramatic. Luka. You know his excellency would never hurt us, don’t you? I’ve lived enough around him to be sure of that. You are the person he could least afford to be in danger’s way. And even if he hated you as much as you think, the Crown has his hands tied,” she took some of the ointment Len was holding for her and smeared it on Luka’s belly, the coldness made her clench her jaw. “No. I’m terribly ashamed, that’s all. And Gakupo has enough to worry about already.”

Meiko withdrew her hands and folded them in her lap. Deep regret settled between her brows, and try as Luka might, she could find nothing to say.

“Don’t be fooled, Meiko is the most loyal person I’ve ever met,” Len interjected, and Luka thought it would be a problem if she got used to him swooping down and saving her like that. “Without her this whole place would have fallen a long time ago.”

Then he turned to her. 

“You have good instincts, you know. If you think this is the best way to proceed, there must be a reason.”

“Thank you, Len, but this is just the kind of indulgence I vowed to stop relying on when I was... about thirteen, maybe? It's been a while.”

“You see? One first slip-up since you were a teenager, that's at least a decade of a clean record.”

But for the first time, Len’s words seemed to be the wrong ones, because Meiko lapsed into a silence from which neither he nor Luka could pull her out. 

She did not speak again until she had secured the bandages around Luka's torso.

“That should do it,” she said at last, her tongue sticking out between her teeth. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you.”

The look of relief on Meiko's face quickly disappeared.

“I still don't understand, this shouldn't have left you in such a bad state, are you sure that—that was the only thing that happened last night?”

“Meiko, it's nothing, this happens sometimes,” she said, though the lie tasted like bile in her mouth.

Whether it was because she had really convinced her or she had finally given up on making her talk, Meiko leaned back in her chair.

“Did you know that I used to be part of Galaco's army?

Even having said it in the way of any casual remark, Luka straightened up from the shock, and found that at least her stomach didn't hurt as much as she would have expected.

“You were part of what ?” Meiko nodded. “But that means… You’re not from Edryae?”

She gave her a sad smile.

“No. I am the daughter of two renowned guards of the Queen's cohort, who by my reckoning should have retired a few years ago. As expected, I began training to take their place as soon as I could hold a sword.”

Meiko absentmindedly stirred the new cup of coffee Len had insisted on serving them both. Luka couldn't bring herself to tell him that the incipient progress in her newly acquired appetite had completely disappeared within hours, still she forced herself to take a few cautious sips.

“I was always the golden child, Galaco herself once told me that if I kept it up I'd be captain of the royal guard, or a member of her personal escort,” Meiko scoffed fondly at the memory.

“The Queen is prone to promise greatness, it seems.”

“You have no idea,” then her voice sank into deep disconsolation. “But I made a mistake. Princess Gumi didn't always need that veil. It's my fault she has to wear it.”

The hair on the back of Luka's neck stood on end. Meiko again seemed unable to return her gaze, and she had never looked so small.

“Imagine that, I was fourteen and about to go through my own degradation ceremony, my parents disowned me and never spoke to me again. I cried so much I thought I was going to die.”

Meiko again said this like it was a funny anecdote, but her misty eyes revealed that it was still an open wound. Len stood up and placed both hands on her shoulders. Meiko leaned her head against his torso and exhaled a shaky sigh before continuing.

“Gakupo was already a proper duke by then, all four years my elder. He managed to reach out to the palace and say ‘Come with me. I’ll make you part of my guard’ which were bold words for someone who had no authority there,” she let out a bitter laugh. “But we were already the two most undesirable people in the entire kingdom, so in the end they let us both go.”

She closed his eyes, and after a few seconds she broke away from Len.

“You won't believe me, but I'm happy here, happier than I ever could have been in the capital. I owe it all to Gakupo, I don't know what I would have done without him.”

“Meiko.”

Luka surprised herself when it was she who leaned down to take her hands, which even now were all fire under her skin. Before some juvenile embarrassment forced her to look away, she noticed Meiko's lips parted in surprise.

“I'm sorry. Galaco has no idea what she lost.”

Luka was aware that these too were bold words for someone who had only briefly, and painfully, experienced Meiko's battle prowess. But at least she seemed to have been able to bring her some comfort, because she offered her a small smile.

“Don't get me wrong, my skill wasn't the only reason Gakupo decided to save me. We were good friends before that, we met shortly after his arrival at the palace thanks to—" Meiko suddenly fell silent, but Luka could guess who she was referring to. “Well, you should know that he was involved in the incident, that's where this whole mess comes from.”

This time, they both drew away at the same time, as if Meiko was as puzzled by her confession as Luka was to have heard it. The guard cleared her throat.

“You understand that I cannot afford to fail in my duty again," she concluded. “This will not happen again, nor will your transgressions be overlooked a second time. That is all I wanted to say to you.”

She stood up and headed for the door.

“I have to go. I'll see you later.”

“Meiko?”

She turned to her.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said in a tone that was quiet and apologetic. 

She left without another word.

“Now that that’s dealt with,” Len, whose presence she had so far forgotten, and his cheerful voice startled her. “I was able to talk to the duke a while ago. Well, exchanging about seven words is perhaps a more accurate description, but he told me your suitcases are ready.”

“Really?”

“Really. He’ll be waiting for you in the east wing.”

The vertigo of terror flooded her again. She hunched over the table and held her head in her hands, the weight of the cuffs had never been so unbearable. But even worse than that was the memory of last night, and whatever that presence behind her had been, that could have been magic, but there had been something else. 

“Len, tell me something, why not just send me back to Lilias? I know the cuffs are not the most orthodox solution, but it's the only thing that's really kept my magic under control," she said. I know they're wearing down, but can't we use runes on anything else? Get everything over with already?”

“Ah, so His Excellency hasn't told you," he said, and Luka felt that familiar ominous foreboding. “That would have been His Excellency's first choice, perhaps, but the problem is that new runes can't be created.”

“What?”

“What I mean is that I can take any rune and copy it, of course, but in the end it will just be a drawing. It seems that the key to their magic was lost generations ago.”

“You mean no real runes have been drawn since even before Gakupo was born.”

“Or his parents. Or his parents’ parents.”

“Then all the duchy's runic power consists of... centuries-old relics.”

“Ouch. You catch on to these things fast,” Len exaggerated a pained expression, then added. "The queen is aware. It was one of the first things she asked Gakupo when she welcomed him into her palace, and it's one of the reasons she no longer has any interest in Edryae. Or its people.”

Len continued crumbling the bread he had been fidgeting with.

“The point is that once the bangles have been completely consumed… That will be it. They are the last of their kind.”

She looked down at her arms, like checking for any visible deterioration over the last few days. The time limit on them seemed to become starker.

“By the Goddess, why did the Queen ever entrust you with my care?” she asked at last, astonished. 

“According to Gakupo, it was exclusively to ruin his life. But, anyway,” Len closed his eyes, and took a sip from his cup. “Come on, he’s probably waiting for us by now.”

The irony of her reluctance to return to the east wing now was not lost on Luka. She couldn't help it, but so far Gakupo's strident magic was not something she had feared any more than her own power. It would have been hypocritical. The horns and claws had been no more grotesque than her light-oozing skin. Yet she was not stupid enough not to realize that all of yesterday had been his doing, and now that she had experienced what it was like to be asphyxiated by such dense darkness, and now that she knew his shadows concealed something even more sinister, terror tugged at her limbs, begging her to turn and flee.

So concentrating only on following Len made moving forward only slightly easier. This time she walked around normal corridors, and yet she feared staying for too long in the same place.

So it was surprisingly ordinary when they came to a modest living room that Luka hadn't come across last time. On one of the armchairs sat the duke reading a book that Luka recognized as one of the ones she had picked out in the library before.

“Miss Megurine," he said by way of greeting, and it was as if nothing had really happened. “And Len, thank you for bringing her.”

The only indication that last night had not been a residue of her feverish hallucinations was the knowing wink Len gave her before he left.

“It’s this way," was all Gakupo said as he stood up, the book having been forgotten beside him. “I'm sorry to be so abrupt, but I have urgent business to take care of today.”

But Gakupo had had urgent business to take care of before, and he had never looked so tense. Judging by his taut shoulders and the flexing of his fingers, Luka would say he even looked nervous.

“Is something wrong?" she dared to ask, struggling to match his stride as he turned and began to walk.

“No,” but his answer was too quick, more of a reflex than a genuine reply.

Luka knew it was time to open her mouth and say “ it's okay, I can come back later ” however not only did the thought of returning empty handed make her sick, but turning around at this point felt like throwing the weight of her disobedience, and Meiko's sacrifice, away.

Nevertheless, the only thing Luka could force herself to move on for was the promise of that last piece of home, this time so close to her.

So when tragedy encountered her again it was in the form of Gakupo's back, which she crashed into when he stopped dead in his tracks.

Luka discovered, looking over his shoulder, that the shape of tragedy was a girl no more than ten years old, standing in the middle of the room with her little hands balled into fists at the sides of her red dress.

To her growing list of the day's strangeness she could add that Gakupo's first instinct was to place the girl behind him, as if Luka were a danger he must protect her from.

But she managed to break free of his grip and meet Luka’s eyes, and that was when she understood what Gakupo had tried to hide. The shape of tragedy was the horns on her black jet hair and the yellow ribbons that adorned her pigtails. 

“Yuki," Gakupo said in an exhalation. “I thought I told you to hide.”

“And I thought you told me the truth!" she protested, and Gakupo's face was the very definition of misery. “You said everything was fine! But she―but she has golden eyes!”

The world stopped, and Luka realized she was about to shrink at the child’s accusing finger. Gakupo turned to her.

“Yuki," he repeated, this time with a gentleness she would never have thought him capable of. “Go back to the office. You can take candy from the drawer.”

“But I don't want candy! I want to know what's going on!”

“You're right, and I'll explain everything. I'll be there in a moment.”

“But…”

“Or do you need me to come with you?”

As if that had been the biggest offense of all, Yuki puffed out her chest and wrinkled her nose.

“I can do it alone.”

Once she was gone, Gakupo stood upright. With slow steps he closed the distance between them. How Luka stood her ground when she was rarely so sure she was going to be killed, she did not know.

“I'm sorry, I know I called you, but give me another hour,” he said with detached politeness. “I will have your things sent to your room.”

“Who is she?" was all she could ask through her dry mouth.

When Gakupo spoke again his voice was grave.

“Yuki Kaai, my protégée," he said, as if he expected Luka to be satisfied with that. When it was obvious she wasn’t, he continued, "I didn't expect her to come, I really didn't. Her parents brought her here today, and I couldn't turn them away anymore.”

He ran a hand through his hair. Luka could see the incipient claws and scars on his skin touched by what could only have been fire.

“I'd appreciate it if you'd leave, to be honest," he said at last, and she was surprised to notice that rather than an order, it sounded like a supplication. “I'm sorry, I never intended for you to meet her.”

“Because she could be the Black Sun.”

The tension that permeated the atmosphere was palpable. Luka knew well that she had shattered any pretense of credulity they might have formed. She didn't care. She needed to know.

“If only you knew her, if only you had heard her laugh once, it’s not something you could dare to say out loud. But yes, that is the crux of the matter,” he said. “What I told you last time is not a lie, no one knows if I’m really the Black Sun, but I was the only candidate.”

He shrugged.

“Until two years ago," he continued matter-of-factly. “Her parents kept her hidden ever since she began to show the first signs of horns. Then they decided to bring her here. To me. So I could teach her to control her magic and discover at the same time if she is the bearer of the curse. 

Luka's own voice echoed inside her head “ the possibility that you might die. ”

“Galaco doesn't know about her. And I plan to keep it that way," he said. “The fact that I was spared by the crown was merely a matter of good timing, but I know Yuki won’t meet the same fate. And now she is in greater danger than ever. 

The implication was clear, and it hurt far more than she would have liked to admit.

“I should have become the queen's puppet long ago. The only reason I was able to have any freedom at all was because someone protected me for as long as they could,” she imagined Fukase's face, the scar and the cane, had that been the cost? “I was once that child, in a sense. I know you loathe me, but I am not a monster.”

But it felt like a lie. I’m not a monster, I’m not a monster , and what if she was? What if Galaco managed to crack through her weak facade of strength?

“I’m sorry,” Gakupo said again. “I’ve been putting off her visit for a couple of weeks now, but her parents are getting desperate, with the rumors about you, particularly. They think Edryae won’t be a safe place for long, but they know they won't find a home anywhere else. I can't blame them, and I'm running out of options myself.”

Gakupo closed his eyes, then he opened them again.

“Come with us.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Come with us," Gakupo repeated, as if he meant it. “Even for a little while, please.”

“I thought you didn't want me around.”

“I didn't want you to know about her, but if it's too late for that, get to really know her, I beg you.”

And she wanted to refuse, she wanted to refuse as she had seldom refused anything. Things were already bad as it was—a secret bigger than earth itself had been revealed, but Luka couldn't help but feel that she would only make it worse if she came any closer. She would ruin everything again, but this wasn’t blood she could bear to stain her hands with, it would drive her insane. 

But she was so dizzy that she could only nod at Gakupo's expectant, grim gaze. As if he had figured out her desire to flee, he remained very close to her as she walked.

It was all jarring, even if she tried to ignore her earlier escapade (had it really only been a few hours since that? And only a night since she found out her suitcases were there?) The whole world had changed and she couldn't keep up.

“You'll have to play along with me for a while, sorry for the inconvenience," he said when they reached a couple of doors.

Luka didn't answer, because Gakupo turned the knob and she had only a second to fix her discomposed expression. His transformation was also immediate, at least he no longer wore the face of a man who seemed to be seriously considering suicide.

Yuki looked so tiny in the velvety chair she was sitting in. In her lap was a small pile of sweets that she was putting in her mouth with a frown.

“Yuki, I’m sorry about earlier,” said Gakupo, returning to the tender tone that sounded so bizarre in his mouth. “I wanted to introduce you to—”

“Lily's daughter," she interrupted. “Everyone is talking about her.”

”To my friend," he corrected softly, which made the situation even more absurd. “In any case, I thought we had already discussed your manners. Introduce yourself.”

She frowned, but Gakupo encouraged her with a nod.

“My name is Yuki Kaai, I am nine years old. I like to play the flute and sing," she said as if she had memorized it from a script. After some hesitation, she added, "It's nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Yuki. My name is Luka," she said, though her own voice seemed very far away. She couldn't remember the last time she had spoken to a child. “I'm sorry I startled you.”

“I wasn't startled," Yuki replied, crossing her arms. “So it's true, then? About the goddess?”

Gakupo sat down beside her.

“No," he said with a certainty that Luka couldn't discern if it was genuine. “She’s not what you or your parents fear, nor will she harm anyone. Luka came from a distant village for my help and has to stay with me for a while.”

These were all statements that made her already battered mind pound. She knew Gakupo was lying, there was no way he could truly believe they were less than enemies, but to hear him say it like that, even she could almost believe it.

“You never let me stay.”

“Because your parents would miss you a lot, wouldn't they, Luka?”

She didn’t get at first that he was speaking to her. She forced herself to nod.

“So, do you think you can keep it a secret? We wouldn’t like to make the townsfolk worry.”

They both seemed to hold in their breath as Yuki did nothing but fiddle with her thumbs.

“Fine,” she agreed at last. Gakupo's shoulders moved as if he sighed, but he remained quiet.

“Thank you, Yuki. Now, we have little time. Tell me, have you practiced what I taught you about your magic?”

For the first time, her eyes lit up.

“Len says I'm already better than him!" she exclaimed, stretched out her hands and darkness fluttered over her palms as if it had a life of its own, unlike Gakupo and Len's fine work.

She flashed a bright smile with tiny fangs and a missing tooth. Luka dared a glance at Gakupo, but this time his whole attention was on Yuki, and his earlier gloom had been replaced by something close to pride.

“All right, calm your breathing before you lose control again,” Yuki inhaled deeply, at the same time the shadow waned its frantic pulse. “Now, as we practiced, try to concentrate the energy in a single point, then....”

Had it not been for the opinions Yuki asked her for from time to time—when she mastered a difficult trick or had made some interesting shape with wisps of smoke—Luka was sure that Gakupo would not even have remembered her existence. Every time the girl turned to her with expectant eyes she had to manage to keep the smile she gave her from being an awkward grimace, and pick her brain for something to say. Then the duke would look at her, too, and it seemed to her that he would dwell on her for a second too long before turning back to his pupil. She didn't know what he was looking for in her, nor had idea of the right answer.

When Gakupo looked up to the clock, Luka did the same, and noticed that a little over an hour had passed.

“Yuki, you have to go back soon, is it okay if we finish for now?" he asked. Then, to Luka's horror, he turned to her. “Luka, stay here.”

Gakupo stepped forward. Yuki pulled a cloak from her backpack and draped it over her shoulders, making sure it covered the top of her head well. With her face hidden, she must have thought it wouldn't be obvious if she stared at Luka.

She knew well that she was examining her eyes. She couldn't blame her. Gakupo's explanation had been rather obtuse.

“Goodbye," she said at last when she decided she had seen enough, and skipped out the door. 

“Goodbye, Yuki," Luka said to an empty room.

A few minutes later Gakupo found her hugging her legs, her head buried between her knees.

“Is there no way of knowing?” she couldn’t help but ask, she knew it was a child’s plea. 

“If I did, Miss Megurine, I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place,” he said, it was a much less scathing answer than she would have expected from him. “Perhaps with that knowledge I could even help you. These are both arcane magics we are dealing with, after all.”

The duke seemed to have returned to relative normalcy, at least, but the previous stiffness had not quite left him.

“Stop it with the Miss thing," she said without straightening up. “It's cynical after all that’s happened.”

They were already too far from being able to pretend the cordial distance they had maintained until now.

A pause, the rustle of moving fabric. Gakupo sat down in front of her.

“Alright, Luka. I couldn't blame you, no matter how much I wanted to," he said, pronouncing these new words with some awkwardness, as if palpating around an open wound. “Yuki is a big part of the need for secrecy of the east wing. We have all her classes here, we move only through servant passages. I only allow a few trusted people to pass through.”

He didn't say names, but Luka could see their faces clearly. Meiko, Len, maybe Rin? Then Luka felt the bandage wrapped around her torso that suddenly seemed to tighten enough to steal her breath. A new guilt washed over her.

“This is all my fault. I thought I could do it all at the same time. Keep her hidden and return what rightfully belongs to you. I didn't think she would disobey me, she had never done so before, I had never given her a reason to. But even she realizes how dire everything is,” a bitter smile tugged at his lips, then he let out a caustic laugh. “It's funny. Anyone else I could have dealt with, but it had to be you.”

Luka was already aware of her tendency to ruin everything she came near, but she would never have imagined it would reach such critical levels. But if even Gakupo seemed to know that...

“Why did you ask me to come?”

“Desperation,” was his answer. “I thought you might strive more to protect a girl you know than a perfect stranger.”

“Then you shouldn’t have lied to her,” Luka spat. “You both think I’m going to murder everyone as soon as I get the chance.”

She had tried not to let her voice break, but she still had to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand.

“But I don't think so. I really don't think you want to hurt anyone," he said. “But you're right. In the end we are all the queen's puppets. As much as you despise the notion, you are the saint and salvation of the kingdom. And I am a monster. If Yuki is found out, then she'll be a monster too.”

Gakupo continued.

“If by any chance I should be able to accomplish Galaco's impossible task and return you to her, any slip on your part or blackmail to extort information from you, and that's the end of that kid. But if I fail..." he shrugged grimly. “I told you once that I'm the only reason this place still exists at all. If anything happens to me, the only thing standing between Yuki and the Crown disappears too. It was hard enough at first, but I'm running out of options to protect her. And the more I think about it, the more I fear she's doomed no matter what I do.”

Luka lifted her chin. 

"I know what's going to happen once I leave this place. What the Queen will make of me," if I ever do leave, Luka thought. "Spending the rest of my life keeping this secret might be the only good thing that I could make of my destiny. And so, I'll gladly do it."

That was as much as she could promise. Again, something seemed to gleam in Gakupo's dull eyes. But there was not a comforting nod or any other gesture of appreciation she had hoped for.

“Yuki's no fool, she asked me why you looked so unhappy.”

Luka knew that was as close to validation as she would get.

“And what did you tell her?”

“That you miss your home.”

This time she could have laughed. Yes, that about summed it all up. Then Gakupo spoke again.

“Come with me.”

Once again, she was led through labyrinthine corridors. Every now and then he glanced back to make sure she was still behind him.

When they stopped behind a door at the bottom of a flight of stairs Gakupo pulled a set of keys from his pocket and opened the three locks on it. Meanwhile, Luka shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Where are we?”

“My laboratory,” he replied. “Another reason I keep this wing as deserted as possible.”

The door creaked open with a final, satisfying click. 

Luka didn't wait for Gakupo to invite her in, but seeing her suitcases waiting for her on a table in the center of the room, she couldn't help but rush toward them. The duke made no attempt to stop her.

She held out her hands toward them before stopping short. She glanced at Gakupo, in the darkness of the research hall, surrounded by flasks and books and a chemical smell, she could not discern his expression.

“Is it...?”

“It’s safe. I checked it myself,” he said, then his tone changed to something akin to shyness. “I tried... I tried to be as non invasive as possible. I didn't see anything. But it was a necessary procedure.”

Luka dared to put his hands on them. Just their familiar touch melted most of the anguish built up in her shoulders since the day before. 

“What was so dangerous that my family could have sent, anyway?”

“It's not your family I was worried about,” he approached her after closing the door again. “It's what other people might have hidden along the way.”

“But why the capital―?”

“Not only in the capital. You may have as many devotees as enemies. Countries you threaten with your mere existence, people who would rather see you dead.”

Luka took her hands off the bags. With every problem she already dealt with she didn’t even have time to consider things such as attacks from other nations, but knowing that even now it was still a possibility was frightening.

“What were you looking for, then?”

“I don't know. Pretty much anything,” he cocked his head. “Poison. Bombs.”

“Bombs? ”

“Unlikely, I admit, but it would be stupid to rule out the possibility of a system sophisticated enough to go off as soon as the suitcase is opened,” at Luka's horrified face, he added. “We had a false alarm a couple of years ago.”

“Goddess.”

Gakupo exhaled air through his nose, in any other situation it might have been a laugh.

“Come on. I'll help you carry this.”

The walk back was a blur. Her body seemed to be finally taking the toll of the ceaseless activity since the past day, so once her things were back where they always belonged (or the closest place, at least), Luka's first instinct was to collapse on her bed. Gakupo, however, did not leave the doorway.

“Luka,” he said, "I again ask for your discretion about what you just saw.”

“Of course.”

“And one last thing,” he added after a second's hesitation. “I owe you an apology. For everything. I'm sorry I've been so harsh since you got here. The cuffs, every protocol. I didn't know how else to do it. I still don't. I just wanted to keep everyone safe.”

As if just hearing Luka’s answer proved too painful, Gakupo left before she could say anything.

Notes:

I went to watch the Miku movie last time. It was fun.

Chapter 12: King by her side

That was the last true conversation she had with Gakupo. 

Seeing him at all had become a rarity. He no longer summoned her for trivial meetings, nor did he insist on meaningless dinners since that time. At first, it had been a relief, but when he failed to meet her at the library, or she knocked on the door of his empty study, she began to feel nervous. 

And Luka wished she could blame him, but then she would have to admit her own negligence, too. Knowing now what was at stake, more than ever she should have been able to grab him by the collar of his shirt and yell about all the time they were wasting. He of all people should share the same distress with her, if not a greater one, yet nothing about his demeanor or actions showed more than detached coolness. 

Luka could not bring herself to spit it out, and so when they did meet they barely acknowledged each other’s presence beyond a curt nod or a few words. 

Otherwise, most of their communication was through Len or Meiko. When Luka asked him the reason for Gakupo’s sudden disappearance, he would apologize with the half-smile she was becoming so accustomed to seeing and tell her that problems had arisen with the duchy that kept him busy.

Worse still, it was plausible, but Luka couldn’t believe it, not when it all was happening right after Yuki. 

So until Gakupo realized again the urgency of the situation they were in, Luka studied alone. That was the only thing she could do. Sometimes even Rin would join her, picking up a book and leafing through it, but she didn’t pretend to want to help or be able to do so, which Luka appreciated. 

So it came as a surprise when, on one of those afternoons when Luika felt the hours slipping through her fingers and the words swimming on the pages of the books before her eyes, she noticed Gakupo in front of her. 

“Have you found anything new?” he asked, as if it weren’t the most brazen thing she had heard in years. 

His tone was still far from friendly, but where Luka would have expected his voice to return to the coldness when they had just met, there was the faint intimacy of those who shared the same dangerous and primordial responsibility. 

And yet, Gakupo still hesitated. 

“No,” she wished she could have said anything else.

He nodded like that was what he had been expecting. 

“Tell me what I need to catch up on.”

Luka blinked and pointed to a couple of books at her feet. When Gakupo picked one of them up and sat down in front of her, she dared to feel that perhaps it hadn’t all been in vain. The lines on the pages returned to their place. 

And for a while, everything returned to normal, and they remained in mellow silence. Then Gakupo spoke. 

“You could join me.”

Which was enough to freeze the blood on her veins. Meanwhile, Gakupo, as if unaware of the significance of what he had just said, had not looked away from the book he still held. It took Luka a couple of attempts to recover the voice that had become stuck in her throat. 

“Excuse me?”

“What else do we have left? Our fates are already grim enough, and Galaco expects us just to surrender to her as her servants. You, of all people, have no reason to obey her, and you would do well to stop pretending otherwise,” he said, he turned the page. “You’d make a glorious villain. You could take whatever you want, and no one would lift a finger to stop you. And even if they did, who could stand against you and me together?” 

Gakupo spoke as if this were not a grave conversation for both of them. Galaco, naturally, had been a wary monarch ever since she took the throne, and conspiracy was not a crime she took lightly. So even in the relative privacy of the small corner where they stood, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. 

“What you’re suggesting is a coup.”

“What I’m suggesting is that we do whatever it takes to reclaim our lives and protect the people we love. Tell me it’s really worse than what awaits you living under the Queen’s thumb. That I won’t end up crushed by the weight I carry.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“And what is what otherwise awaits me? Luka, she’s not really planning to cure your ailment, you do know that? Or at least she doesn’t expect me to be the one to do it. There’s a reason she left us to our own devices,” he said, turning to her for the first time. “Imagine what we could achieve without her standing in our way, if we only had access to the power and wealth she had. And without a pointless deadline. In addition to what I’ve already offered you, it’s the best chance we have.”

But Luka realized the greater promise lurking behind this design, something far greater than themselves and their immediate salvation. In the violence he proposed lay the ultimate reconciliation between light and darkness. True peace at last, maybe, without the constant threat of the ancient royalty loyalty looming over Edryae. 

“Say yes. You have nothing to lose.”

But he was wrong about that much. If Luka had learned anything throughout her life, it was that hitting rock bottom was impossible—there was always something worse waiting for her to make even the slightest mistake. Luka had already tried to protect people before, and look how that had ended. 

If she couldn’t even live a life in which she didn’t hurt anyone, at least she would have the consolation that the queen would be the master of her actions. With that ease, she could wash the blood from her hands. 

If she accepted, however, if she ended up with a crown on her head at the end of the carnage, whose fault would it be? Only hers. Gakupo, king by her side, would not have to live with the remorse. But that ruthlessness, or fortitude, was not one she shared with him. 

“No.”

The duke tilted his head. 

“Very well.”

That was the end of the conversation. 

Gakupo did not leave then. On the contrary, he kept reading and even pointed out some passages she had overlooked that might be useful. But in the end, of course, he ended up excusing himself and leaving once again. 

Luka knew then that it would be the last she would see of him for a long time. 

She closed the book and pressed her forehead against the cover, wondering what the point was anymore. 

Except that this time, the answer was obvious. Luka thought back to Yuki’s horns and red ribbons on her dress. Just when she thought she was used to misery. 

The thought made her get up and walk over to a bookshelf. None of the books about the Black Sun seemed to have much information about solar magic, so she had put them all there. But this time she picked one at random, tucked in under her arm, and left. 

She ended up placing the book on the nightstand in her room, now that it felt almost truly hers, which was as painful as it was solacing. The suitcases that had taken her so much to get hold of, now empty, were neatly stacked next to the wardrobe. 

For the most part, she had found what she had expected inside them. Clothes, a few pairs of shoes, the occasional personal item she never thought she would see again, such as jewelry, the deer skin gloves she had received for her birthday, rarely worn in the mild weather of Itith, and even Kokone’s bottle of perfume. At the bottom of some of them, naively, money. 

What had devastated her was precisely what was not there. She almost resented her family for taking the trouble to send her way anything at all. 

It wasn’t her intention, of course. She knew she was being unfair, but she couldn’t help feeling that it was all impersonal and cold, as if her room had been haphazardly ransacked and thrown at her with no more thought given to it. 

But the more she had tried to find it, the more her despair had grown. She hadn’t even known what she was looking for. A note hidden inside a coat pocket, a scribble carved into the rosewood jewelry box, anything else.

Nothing, save for one thing. The only book she had received, a beloved collection of fairytales from her childhood. Luka had carefully inspected every page to see if there was at least a new underlined passage or if one of the illustrations had been drawn over. Everything remained the same as it had been a decade ago, when she had put it down on a shelf one day and never picked it back up again. Until she reached the last page and discovered the torn corner. But even that proved to be a dead end, and she could only assume that either she had ripped it years ago and never noticed or it was the deed of some of the people that had riffled through the suitcases. 

And yet, even that irrational pain passed. And yet, every time she climbed the endless stairs of the tower after another day of futile reading and was greeted by that imperfect familiarity, a warm relief washed over her. It was comforting each time she saw her own brush and rouge on the dressing table, when she opened the closet and the clothes inside were hers. Even Gakupo, in an uncharacteristic act of thoughtfulness, had sent her amenities like cushions, rugs, and sheets that at last didn’t have the texture of sandpaper. 

It was dangerous to get used to it. She should know better than anyone that as soon as she let her guard down, as soon as she dared to close her eyes for more than a second, it all would be taken from her again. Almost three months had passed since her trial, and the time she had left would be over in an instant. Even in the best case scenario, she would have to return to Galaco then. 

She had found a certain wavering power over Gakupo, but despite what the duke thought, not even she could bend the queen's will. Would she have a room like the one she had now? Perhaps she would be relegated to a cell beneath the palace’s foundations, or maybe she wouldn’t even have time to think about rest, leading armies in an attire of golden armor. 

She didn’t remain there long. In her attempt to clear her mind, she discovered that escaping was easy, in fact. She remembered well the paths Len had shown her last time, and no one stopped her. She also assumed that she would not get into trouble as long as she stayed within castlegrounds. She could only hope that this time Meiko would check twice before striking supposed intruders.

In any case, there was no one else to watch over her. The castle was gradually emptying. One day, Luka noticed that it was suddenly unusual to encounter guards and servants. This, too, was one of the questions that no one had yet bothered to answer clearly, but she felt a certain unease in her stomach at the thought that this was the result of the duke’s renewed paranoia. 

She knew what she must look like, the pale ghost of Lily wandering the edges of an abandoned fortress. A pink and white silhouette bathed in the evening light, extending her hands in front of her to welcome in her palms the few bees that, despite everything, seemed to remember her still.

Some things did not change, for better or for worse. Luka had not yet seen honeycombs hidden in the most neglected corners of the building, as she had once done in her home, but it seemed that the complete absence of buzzing around her was not something she would have to get used to.

Although the castle stood high on a cliff, Luka had never seen much of Edryae itself. Through her bedroom window, she could see only the immensity of the ocean, and now the curtain wall allowed her to see only the treetops covering the rest of the area.

Luka kept on walking aimlessly, ignoring the gardens, the fountains, and the occasional statue or monument, as if someone had once intended to make the place something more than a military stronghold. 

Soon he came across a wooden structure in the distance, and as she approached, the soft neighing of horses confirmed that it was a stable. The door was open. She didn't know what prompted her to go inside, perhaps it was curiosity; she had never seen the animals in any situation other than pulling a carriage. Or maybe she was just that desperate to come in contact with any other living being.

She realized too late that she was not alone when straw crunched under her boot.

Rin, who until then had seemed absorbed in brushing the immaculate white coat of a horse, turned her head sharply toward the source of the sound, but the surprise disappeared from her face as soon as she realized it was her.

“You’ll soil your shoes here,” she said, returning to her task. 

“I’m aware. But don’t bother with excuses, if you want me to leave, just say so.”

Rin paused for a second, as if considering it.

“Do as you wish, if you really don't mind the manure,” she shrugged. “Although I don't know what you find interesting here. I figured that even here you would find some pastimes.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know. Praying. Blessing works of art.”

Luka laughed. With Rin’s contempt, it was difficult to take the sainthood matter seriously. It all became a bad joke, and a reality so distant. 

“Maybe I will,” she mused.

Rin, however, didn’t seem to find it funny. “Should you really be here, anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” she confessed. “Gakupo never mentioned anything about the gardens.”

And so much had changed over the last couple of weeks. Gakupo himself had said the main reason the east wing was off-limits was because of Yuki's secret.

“I wasn't planning on telling him, if that's what you're worried about. He didn't assign me as your personal nursemaid,” she replied, looking relieved to be able to change the subject. “In return, the next time you see Len, tell him I was cleaning the main hall or something.”

“Oh?”

Rin threw her head back. It seemed she wasn't the only one who shouldn't be there.

“I'll be right back, I promise. It’s just that the workload has increased so much for everyone—Well, all of us who are left, anyway,” she brushed the animal's mane a couple more times. “I just needed some fresh air, that's all.”

Luka, for the moment, decided to push aside that renewed guilt from her mind and take advantage of her companion's unusual chattiness.

“Rin.”

“Hmm?” she said in a tone similar to "what do you want now?"

“What would you do if you had my magic?”

Rin paused for a second. 

“Why do you ask?”

“Between the two of us, you're the one who should have gotten them,” she said. In a less absurd world, Luka might have shared control over one of his siblings' elements, or perhaps he would have inherited his mother's lack of any magic. “Don't tell me you've never wondered about it.”

Rin left the compartment and slumped down on the rickety bench on the opposite wall. Luka followed her. Although she tilted her head as if considering her answer, her response was so concise that Luka could only think that she had indeed thought it through in great detail.

“I’d be a tyrant,” she said, her voice dripped with conviction. “I would take Galaco’s throne and spend all the kingdom's funds on myself. I’d wear the most beautiful dresses and eat brioche every day. And I would send anyone who didn't do my bidding to the guillotine, or maybe I would behead them myself. You can do something like that, can't you?" Luka hesitated, but before he could answer, Rin continued. “Oh, and I'd make Len my personal servant, to see how he likes it.”

Rin snapped out of her reverie and looked at Luka's blank expression. She didn't smile then, but her tight mouth softened a little. 

“Don't worry, if you behave, I might consider giving you a place in my court.”

“How kind of you.”

“But there you go again,” she said, and the lightness faded. “You keep trying to talk to me, I know you have more important things to do.”

She looked away.

“You said it yourself, the castle is deserted and everyone is busy doing something else,” and it was all her fault, and that weight on her chest grew heavier and heavier. “Gakupo disappeared, and I haven't even seen Len or Meiko. I...”

I felt lonely was so embarrassing to say. She had no reason not to be lonely. These people weren't her friends, no matter how kind they were, no matter how sincere their intentions, it just couldn't be.

Worse still, she had felt this way from the moment she was separated from Kyo and Kokone, and with little to fill these long empty hours, it started to hurt so much worse. 

Luka thought she knew what solitude was. It was true that she had spent her entire life in a very particular kind of isolation, but she had never been alone. Not like this. Even in Edryae, she wasn't alone for too long; there was usually someone by her side, even if it was against her will.

“I felt lonely,” was all she could say in the end.

Rin, for a couple of seconds, looked at her with an expression that was far from the disdain she had expected. Then she said, “You’ll live.”

“I guess so,” said Luka, drooping her shoulders. Her inevitable death was a problem she had been able to forget for the moment, but the promise of a cure was still remote, far too good to be true.

She put a hand around one of the cuffs. She had rejected Gakupo's proposal out of fear of living with a burden heavier than she could bear, but perhaps she wouldn't even need to do that. If she could hold out until the deadline when she would have to return to the capital, and just a little longer so that Gakupo couldn't be blamed for whatever happened to her... It would be a bleak ending, but it would be enough.

“I mean that,” Rin continued, looking straight ahead. “Everyone is always thinking about you.”

Otherwise, Rin offered her no condescension. She didn't tell her she was there for her, she didn't offer her friendship, she didn't even pretend to know how she felt. It stung somewhat, but it was a welcome change, for once.

The smiling faces of her siblings were so vivid in her mind that at first she thought that was the cause of the tightness in her stomach, but when she tried to swallow the nausea, she discovered that the feeling did not belong to her at all, a sickening sensation penetrated her skin and pressed against her brain.

“Luka?” Rin frowned when she saw her curled up on herself. “Are you alright?”

Luka opened her eyes, expecting to find that reality had been twisted in an irreversible and perverse way, but everything was the same as it had been a moment ago. The horses continued to neigh undisturbed around her.

“Don’t you feel that?” she asked. The sensation had subsided as quickly as it had hit, mostly. Luka still rubbed her arms up and down in an attempt to soothe herself. 

Rin’s frown deepened.

“No. Feel what?” she said, tentatively reaching out toward her with her arms as if she were about to collapse. “Don’t you dare faint on me. Find someone who knows what to do.”

Which could have been a joke coming from anyone else, but with Rin, she couldn't be so sure.

“I'm not going to faint,” she replied, leaning her head against the wall. The world had returned to normal, and yet there was still that tightness in her chest. 

For once, Luka was sure that this was not something her powers had caused. On the contrary, she had come to learn that the magic she had felt the time she had tried to venture into the east wing, the same that had forced her to spend the night in the bathtub, was one that would become commonplace. She lived with the indistinct knowledge that it had never completely left her, or it had always been there and she had just become more aware of its presence. She breathed it in the air and walked on it with every step she took. And, sometimes, this would happen. A black, icy wave that would knock her down just for a second, leaving her terrified and breathless.

She hadn't asked Len or Meiko about it, even if she could expect a real answer, either there was something more sinister going on than she was willing to confront, or she had gone insane. 

This was also one of the reasons why she hadn't dared to speak out about Gakupo's inaction.

Rin seemed about to say something else, but it was another voice that broke the silence.

“Luka!”

Len came running into the stable, breathing heavily. When his gaze landed on her, he put a hand to his chest and let out a sigh of relief.

“You have to stop doing this to me,” he lamented with closed eyes. He opened them and frowned. “What do you think you're doing here?”

“I...”

In hindsight, “I felt lonely and technically it wasn’t forbidden” was even more embarrassing, but Rin was quicker than her.

“It's okay. I was taking care of her. She wanted to go out, and I had to tend to the horses anyway, so I brought her with me.”

As if noticing her presence for the first time, Len blinked.

“No you didn’t. Don't lie to me,” he said, and he didn't even look angry.

Rin gave Luka a “well, I tried” look. Len sighed, walked over to the bench, and collapsed beside them, not caring that the creaking wood threatened to collapse under their weight.

“It's not like you don't make our daily lives much more interesting, but testing limits like you're doing is dangerous.”

“For going out to get some air? For Goddess's sake, I've paled three shades since I got here,” she scoffed. Getting angry like she was doing now was another thing she had no right to do, but she couldn't help it.

“And anyway, you have a beautiful complexion,” said Len. “Last time you were lucky that Meiko and I decided to cover for you—”

“Meiko and you what ?” Rin asked.

“And that I'll overlook whatever happened here, since it's not technically forbidden” (“Aha! ” Luka thought), "and there were no more accidents.”

“What the hell happened between the three of you?”

“But one day something truly terrible could happen,” he continued. “I'm not saying it’d be your fault, but you have to be careful. If worse came to worst and we lost sight of you...”

Len shrugged.

"Even if you choose to follow His Excellency's ill-advised habit of disregarding one's own life, you know what's at stake, and the one who depends on you.”

"So you did meet her.”

Even with Len's grim warnings, Luka had found the conversation pleasant. She had the impression that even his meanest threat would come off as a strongly worded notice. Rin's face, on the other hand, showed only barely controlled anger.

“Meet who?” asked Luka, knowing the answer. 

“I don’t know! I don’t even know her name!” she said, leaning forward to face both of them. “All I know is that she exists. And that she's important, or perhaps dangerous, because they're hiding her from everyone. But not from you.” 

The look she gave Luka made her want to shrink away, but once again, it was Len who answered for her.

“Her name is Yuki, if you really need to know,” he said calmly. “She is Gakupo's protégé, with magic comparable to his. That's why he and her parents decided to keep it a secret.” 

Rin remained silent. 

“I asked you a million times, and that's all there was to it? Why are you only telling me now?” After a second, Rin corrected herself. “There's something else, isn't there? Don't lie to me.” 

When her brother didn't answer, she turned to Luka. The anguish (or something like that) in her eyes was painful even for her, but it was too early to start breaking promises, or at least this one, which was the most important of all the oaths she had forsaken. 

Her first instinct was the most obvious one, to side with Len and confirm that he was telling the truth. But Rin already knew that. Hiding the magnitude of the situation in this way was disingenuous, but Luka feared already too much had been said.

There was a naked hurt and disbelief on her face. Luka could only imagine. It was one thing if the entire word turned its back on her, but that her twin, her spitting image, her reflection, would place his trust on a complete stranger before her, must have been an even worse insult. 

“Listen,” Luka intervened in a small voice, feeling that she at least owed her an explanation. “Yuki is a child, Gakupo just wants to protect her from a burden she doesn't understand.”

“Who cares about a brat with magic!” she shouted, standing up. “As if that weren't the norm!”

“Rin,” Len said. “Lower your voice.”

“Fuck you.”

She took a deep breath. 

“Fine,” she said, her gaze flickering between them, as if she still expected one of them to give in and tell the truth. “Fine .”

She turned and strode over to the horse she had been grooming. She threw several brushes into a bucket and left the stable.

Luka could turn to Len only after Rin had disappeared from view.

“Even after all this time, it's hard to keep secrets from her. You can't imagine,” he said. In the second it took him to turn to her, his grimace faded to a subtle wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“I thought she might have known.”

“She always had her suspicions, as you can see, but I never knew if it was right to tell her, and I never imagined it would come to this. It was my mistake.”

A swift glance around confirmed that they were indeed the only two people around. Nevertheless, Len lowered his voice.

“In any case, now there are two more people who know,” he said, offering her a half-hearted smile. “His Excellency told me that you found out. It's not an ideal situation, but I don't think it's a problem, seeing as it's you.”

Len's confidence was touching, and completely unfounded, considering everything she had done so far. However, it was reassurance she so dearly needed.

“Do you really think she’s the Black Sun?”

“I couldn't say. We can only trust His Excellency to find out,” he said. Then he added, “But I'm hopeful.” Gakupo is so devoted to her. She must be the person he loves most in this world.

“She is an adorable kid,” Luka conceded, discouraged.

"Tell me about it. I'm the one who ends up taking care of her when Gakupo is too busy to look after her. Meiko is also very fond of her, and now Rin... hasn't had the pleasure of meeting her.”

Luka glanced sideways at the now-closed doors.

“And now that she knows too?”

“Well, she only knows half the story, for starters. Besides, I think both the duke and I always knew that Rin would find out sooner or later. To be honest, I feel kind of relieved. Imagine looking in the mirror and trying to lie to yourself every day.”

Luka watched Len pull at a loose thread on his clothes.

“Don't be too mad at her,” he said after a minute. “She's resentful. She's been her whole life.”

The white horse shook his head, the ends of his braided mane coming undone. 

“We were inseparable as children, until my powers manifested. Our paths began to diverge then, despite our best efforts. Now it's as if we were miles apart even if we are in the same room.”

Then, “She always saw in me everything she believes she lacks, but I guess you being here just rubs salt in the wound.”

Luka should have guessed. Perhaps in this she had also crossed a line, hounding her about things she had no right to know. It was no wonder if she hated her.

The guilt she felt must have shown on her face, because Len stood up and gave her a sad smile.

“Well, shall we go now?”

Gakupo, whose plan to reshape the entire world hinged only on her saying yes, Rin’s envy, and Len’s warmth. Of course, this was no place to make a home, not even a temporary one.

Even so, Len held out his hand to her and she took it, and neither of them let go as they walked.

Notes:

My body is a machine that turns Vocaloid fanfic into Evillious Chronicles references.