𝑯𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒅'𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒓 [Lyney x reader]

𝟐𝟏

"La flamme des souvenirs."

Lyney's smile, usually as warm as sunshine, flickered with a touch of melancholy as he addressed his sister. "Looks like it's time for this old bird to return to his nest," he said, his voice a touch rougher than usual, the unfamiliar timbre a strange echo in the cozy living room. He looked at the children, their joyous laughter contrasting with the turmoil brewing within him. Kneeling, he ruffled their hair, the gesture awkward in these new, larger hands. "Don't worry, little ones," he said, forcing a lightness that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Uncle Lucian will be back to share more stories soon!"

With a final, lingering wave goodbye, Lyney shut the door behind him, the heavy oak groaning on its hinges. The familiar creak, once a comforting backdrop to his visits, now sounded alien. Lost in thought, he began the walk back to the manor, his steps echoing a strange rhythm against the cobblestone path. The once-comfortable weight of his borrowed body felt foreign, every movement a reminder of his extraordinary circumstance. Was this a glimpse into another's life, a memory unearthed, or something more unsettling? The questions swirled in his mind, a storm brewing beneath the calm facade he presented.

Lyney's introspective stroll was shattered by a sharp voice laced with disbelief. A young woman stood frozen in his path, her eyes wide with recognition and shock. "Lucian? Is that you?" she breathed the name, a foreign echo in Lyney's borrowed ears.

He stopped, a shard of ice forming in his gut. An unsettling familiarity flickered in the woman's face, a memory struggling to surface through the fog of his imposed reality. "Ah! Aurélie!" A laugh escaped his lips, a dry, humorless bark that sent shivers down his spine. It felt wrong, alien, a performance rather than a genuine reaction.

This woman, whoever she was, had recognized him – as Lucian, not Lyney. But the name sent a jolt of unwelcome memory. Aurélie. The name whispered of past pain, brutal treatment, and stolen freedom. Why, then, did his body react with amusement? The laugh died in his throat, replaced by a cold dread. Was this some twisted joke his borrowed memories were playing on him? Had this Aurélie indeed been an acquaintance or, worse, a tormentor in Lucian's life? The possibility clawed at him, a monstrous truth waiting to be unearthed.

The name hung heavy in the air, a monstrous truth clinging to the tip of his tongue. "Are you on your way home?" Aurélie's voice, laced with a hint of hesitant hope, pierced the icy dread gripping him. She moved closer, subconsciously attempting to bridge the impossible distance between them.

Lyney forced a laugh, the sound brittle and unconvincing even to his ears. "Indeed I am. If I leave the orphanage any sooner, my wife will cause a riot looking for me." He paused, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. "Oh, that's my sister, alright. Always causing trouble whenever she's anxious."

Aurélie's response, a light laugh mirroring his forced amusement, sent a fresh wave of unease crashing over him. "How about you?" he managed, his voice strained. "I thought you'd return from the Akademiya later in the year."