Lucian One Shot

LUCIAN

There used to be a village here. One with plentiful harvests, calm weather and sturdy towers to keep watch. Houses built generations prior by those who settled the land, maintained by their sons and daughters and the sons and daughters after. Filled with dreams both modest and grand, which knew no tribulations greater than the occasional bandit raid or monster attack, but none so large that their modest guards couldn't repel them.

But now that village is no more. Its once bountiful fields now withered. Humble wooden houses reduced to cinders and debris. Piles of corpses reduced to smoldering masses of blackened bone and meat. Now it was only a place for buzzards, wolves and restless spirits. The souls of the dead pass on elsewhere, but they leave many things behind, just as one leaves behind a scent when they exit a room. A scent which draws things which never lived, but so desperately yearn for that sensation. And it is these spirits which draw something even greater.

A woman. Her ears long and sharp, her skin pale as milk and eyes as bright as emeralds. Clad in gold, purple and black silk, bare feet and hands adorned in rings and bands, yet the soil would not cling to her. Despite the filth and smoke of the battlefield, she remained untouched. The restless spirits which flocked around the corpses turned their sights to her, drifting to her like a swarm of blue fireflies. She held out her hand, letting one rest in her palm.

"Yes," she murmured. "You'll make fine revenants."

Her ears twitched upon hearing a faint shuffling behind her. The spirit left her hand and flames ignited in her palm. She expected some scavenger expecting an easy meal or a bummer scrounging for valuables. Something easily scarred off. What she did not expect was a young boy.

The boy looked to be five, dressed in a singed tunic and trousers, all coated in thick dirt. His lone survival would be enough of a shock, but his features revealed a much stranger tale. A near perfect split of features across his body. On the left half he was a smooth and silvery gray, with pure white hair and three horny nubs emerging from his head. His eye was bright gold, with a pure white pupil. On the right half he was a deep and rich brown, with jet black hair and a short but slightly pointed ear. His eye was deep green, with a simple black pupil.

The woman extinguished her flame, approaching the boy slowly. He showed no fear, his gaze fixed on the dirt where he traced repeating symbols. She crouched down to his level, placing a hand to his right cheek, prompting his horns to recede and his right features to spread to his left. Within moments he resembled a rather ordinary elf and human hybrid, an elman.

"A battlefield is no place for a child," she mused. "Do you know where your parents are?"

The boy shook his head. "N'ver had'em."

Orphaned from birth. Not uncommon, but unfortunate nonetheless. Even so, the woman put on a soft smile for the lost child, sharing her own inverted circumstances.

"Is that so? Well, I'll never be able to bear children. So perhaps we were meant to encounter each other. Fate is certainly a curious thing... what's your name?"

"Lucian," he answered. "Papa gave me that 'fore he dropped me off."

"Lucian. A strong name," she praised. "It once belonged to a great sorcerer and king, you know. One with horns like yours. Maybe he hoped you'd be like that one day. My name is Umbasa. Would you like to come with me?"

Umbasa took her hand away from his cheek, instead offering it to him lightly. Lucian stared into Umbasa's eyes, their emerald gaze searching through each other. Umbasa saw a quiet but brilliant flame behind Lucian's eyes, one begging to be channeled. Lucian saw a tamed and gentle warmth behind Umbasa's eyes, one that invited him closer. So, slowly, he took her hand.