Radiant

Chapter 4

As she laid on the small single bed, Lux tried to collect her thoughts.

She had always told herself that there would always be a silver lining, something to make all the struggle, all the fear, anger, and desperation worth it in the end. That at the end of the line, no matter how many failures and missteps you made, there would always be something to look forward to so long as you picked yourself up, learn from your mistakes, and persevere. That's why she always tried to put on a smile because the only alternative is to drown in despair and resentment at the could-have-been and things forever outside of her control.

Miss Militia had said that the PRT had the means to search for and send Lux back to her homeworld. It would just have to take a lot of time and resources, and she was secretly grateful for it. Was she prepared to go back, to fulfill her duty as a Demacian and protect her country in its time of need?

Lux was ashamed at her uncertainty.

She harbored patriotism in her heart. All of her countrymen did one way or another, even if theirs may manifest in different ways. But for the longest time, Demacia for her had only been her family, High Silvermere and its land, with the King and the Royal family being a distant notion. In a way, what had happened at the capital had opened her eyes to a larger picture of the kingdom than she had ever seen, with not only its justice, honor, and unity but also its darkness and turmoil. And even now, she hadn't been able to reconcile that Demacia with the one she had always known. Maybe with time, she could regain her conviction to love the country for what it truly was, or change it for the better.

But now, with her brother dead and her home destroyed...

Lux mentally shook off the self-defeating train of thought. Tomorrow was never a promise, but it could always bring hope.

Idly, she took stocks of the furniture surrounding. It was a small guest room with sparse furniture, only a small desk with three chairs that could fold themselves flat, much to her amazement. A modest bathroom sat at the far corner, opposite of where she was laying. It was far from the luxury she was used to in the mansion, but at least she was spared from the night camping outdoor like when she guided the few mages she could save to the next safe house off Velours. Miss Militia had personally led her to it, saying that the PRT was willing to offer her accommodation so long as she was cooperative.

The woman had taken Lux's brief bout of shock and hysteria in stride, going so far as to offer her words of comfort. When asked, she merely explained that Lux's situation, rare as it was, was not something they hadn't dealt with before. While there were complicated processes to deal with a dimensionally displaced individual – or case 26 as the woman had called it – Miss Militia had decided to push them back to the next morning and allowed her to rest for the night. The woman's eyes crinkled slightly when Lux gave her words of thank, reminding her of aunt Tianna the few times she saw her observing Garen's training.

Though Lux did wonder why the person giving her the food tray for dinner was decked out in a baggy full-body suit and a piece of white fabric with straps covering the lower half of their face. It might be some kind of custom for the military and its affiliates to retain anonymity through face coverage? There was also mention of a meeting with someone called 'Panacea' early the next morning, though Miss Militia had assured that it was nothing to worry about.

With an exhale, she closed her eyes and let sleep claimed her.

---***---​

The next moment her eyes opened, it was not to the familiar marble ceiling of her room. Neither was it to the small cozy guest room.

Her first thought was that she had just awoken from a weird dream. All around her were a dark forest illuminated by the pale moonlight. There was a certain thickness to the air as if her limbs were waddling through a transparent sea of hazy mist. A small path paved with stone slab stretched out from beneath her feet, the kind she had seen many times traveling from one village to another to oversee their business in her mother's apprenticeship. Belatedly, Lux realized she was walking instead of getting up from the ground as if she had just woken up from a bout of sleepwalking.

"I sense it, Lamb. A beating heart."
"Strange indeed, dear Wolf. It seems we have an uninvited guest."

Lux spun around at the voices, heart pounding in her chest. She remembered them, the visages of Death. The spectral form of Wolf somehow appeared disinterested when it saw Lux, flying past her with an annoyed scowl. Lamb instead radiated an amused air, stopping before her as if beckoning the question.

"Where is this place?" She couldn't remember it from any place significant, though there was a strange call of familiarity to it. Worn out faces, worn out places on canvases sitting abandoned in the storage room.

"We have come to many in their slumber, Luxanna Crownguard, though few have tried to intrude on ours." The Lamb chuckled, their voice reminiscent of mournful wind chimes. "Fewer still were those who succeeded."
"We are close, Lamb." Wolf bit out, sounding restless. Impatient. The beast stalked ahead of them on the well-worn path, blending in with the shadow of long-dead trees and moss-covered rocks.

Lamb continued ahead on the winding path, bow held loosely in their hand. And after a moment of hesitation, Lux followed. A strange melody surrounded their footsteps as if coming from the woods itself. A tune both foreign and achingly familiar, hummed in a distinct woman voice. The path became more rugged the further they traveled. Slab stones vanished into dirt paths where wild grass had grown rampant, occasionally decorated with jagged rocks. The trees parted to reveal a wide opening, surrounded by wooden fences, filled with tall grass and broken headstones. A cemetery. One that hadn't seen a caretaker for a long time.

However, the Kindred didn't pay attention to it. They walked further still, heading for a small house at the end of the path. Lux only stopped for a second to look at the state of disrepair of the burial site before following suit.

The house looked to be abandoned, its walls and roof thoroughly ravaged by the passage of time. The entirety of its left side had collapsed, revealing what seemed to be a kitchen with a cracked stone furnace and a pile of what she could only assume was rotten wood and rusted metal. What remained of the house didn't fare much better. The support columns she could see were infested with termite and visibly straining to keep the house standing. The property seemed to be one strong wind away from falling.

Wolf made rounds around the collapsed well before floating to the shed on the side but didn't come in, waiting for them to catch up.

The shed was in a surprisingly decent condition if still looking shabby and long-abandoned. There were craft tables on one side covered in sawdust and woodchip, shelves and tools hung on the wall on another. Piles of thick wooden slabs laid in the corner, half-processed and telling of a work abandoned. And in the middle of it all, there was a casket.

It looked almost alien amidst the place. Made of polished wood with elaborate carvings, it looked more like something that would be marched through the Hall of Valor if not for the lack of gold and silver trimming and a silk shroud embroiled with the Demacian flag. Lux couldn't claim to know the finer detail of carpeting, but even she could see that whoever created this had put a lot of time and effort into it, almost too much for it to be a product of a peasant craftsman. Lamb's bow vanished into motes of light, leaving their hands free to rest on the smooth surface, the polished wood shone dimly under their touch.

"Lamb, tell me a story," Wolf called out to its partner, its voice entirely different from the guttural growling or cackling she remembered. It sounded almost ... sad, subdued. Mourning mixed with confusion, as if the entity didn't fully understand the reason behind the feeling itself.

Lamb only stood there, hands gliding on the surface of the casket, their masked face portraying no emotion yet exuding such a solemn air that she found herself lost for words. What could she even say to the sight of Death itself seemingly mourning for someone? She could only stand at the entrance, transfixed by what she was bearing witness to. The uncomfortable silence stretched out for what felt like an eternity until Lamb's echoing voice broke Lux's from the trance.

"Some stories are not meant to be told, Wolf," the Lamb spoke with an edge of tiredness. "Some are better put to rest. Buried and forgotten."

"I ... want to remember."

With a sigh, Lamb started. "There was once a pale man with dark hair who was very lonely."
"Why was it lonely?" Wolf's raspy voice replied. Not as a question, but a cue.

"All things must meet this man, so ... they shunned him." Lamb briefly looked at her as if contemplating something before they continued, voice still whispering into her ears yet uncharacteristically absent of the echo. "Until a day, he dreamed of a friend."

"Where is she?"
"The friend left when the man woke up. None but a promise that never came to be. And the man was lonely again. More than ever before."

"Did he dream again?"
"He tried, but it never came. So, the pale man dreamed a different dream." Lamp walked to one of the selves in the corner of the shed. They picked up a pair of hammer and chisel, their steel black with rust and missing handles. They spun the tools slowly as if testing their weight. "He took an axe and split himself in two. Right, down, the middle."

"So he will never be alone again?"
"So he will never be alone again."

Lux could feel Wolf's spectral body coiling around her. Their teeth were bared in a horrifying snarl. The anger and frustration were palpable to the point of suffocating even though she somehow knew none of it was directed at her.

"What do all stories have in common, dear Wolf?"
"They end."

Lamb beckoned, and Wolf floated to his partner, letting her hands resting on the eyeholes of his mask. A guttural growl escaped from his throat, a turbulent storm of emotion, all mixed together and none distinguishable from the rest.

"We will soon awaken from this pale slumber, my dearest Wolf. But for now, the Hunt calls." Lamb turned to her, their eyes the color of pale moonlight. "Did my story entertain you, Luxanna Crownguard?"

"I ... why are you showing me this?"

"A whim of the moment, Luxanna. Nothing more." Lamb releases their hands off Wolf's mask, fingers gracefully tracing its wooden contour.
"No prey to chase. No kill to take. This long hunt is boring Lamb. Let's start another." The haze dissipated as Wolf returned to how she remembered. As if none that led to this moment had happened.

"It would be wise of you to return." Rays of moonlight coalesced on Lamb's hand as they walked towards her. Not their hunting bow, but a plain white scarf. It felt warm and tingly as the being wrapped it around her neck, the material not of the high craftsmanship sold at the plaza yet obviously made by an old hand. "Wolf can be so impatient sometimes."
"Yes! Run! Flee! Makes for fun chase." Wolf snapped its jaws and all she could see was a world ablaze.

Lux woke up.