The Arcana: Fragments

VIII: You're Lucky I Chose You

Lucio x Reader (Alt. Side Tale)

The camp was quiet, to all your sides the tribesmen and tribeswomen snored peacefully. You, however, could not find it in you to rest your eyes - you knew what was happening on the eve of this full moon. In your head, you imagined you could hear the blood of your leader being spilled into the soft dirt of her chambers. Wet, soaking, tainting. You knew Lucios' plan, for it was you that was the only person he trusted and confided in. "I mean to do it, kill them", he had told you. His voice was uneasily joyful at the statement. You can still remember your conversation with him the few days prior to this dreadful evening. Somewhere in the distance, the ground trembled a few miles off, a soft thunder echoing into your ear as it lay pressed against the soil. As the sound occurred, the memory flooded back to you:

Two days ago

"Your birthday is coming up", you said, sliding Lucios undershirt from his shoulders to plant a kiss against his skin. He looked off into the hills ahead of you both, the breeze uplifting his thin locks as he sighed in pride. "I mean to do it, kill them". His words did little to catch you off guard, he had been saying this for weeks now. Then again, with as fond of dramatic flare as Lucio was, little surprised you anymore with him. "You've told me", you agreed. "I already met with the wyrm, we are in agreement. Pops has already taken ill, the healers won't say it to the others but I overheard them saying he won't live to see the rest of the week. It's working perfectly. I shall take his heart to the wyrm tonight, as an offering for the creature to remain patient with me..", he trailed off, thinking. "And your mother?", you asked. Deep down, you had hoped it was she who had fallen ill first. Lucios father was a good man. Foolish and drunk, but a good man. Their leader, Morga, though, was something else. In her head you had speculated she would not fall so easily to the illness, and whether Morga admitted it or not, you knew that woman had more up her sleeves than she let on. Magic, perhaps not entirely dark magic, but surely something ancient and definitely powerful. "She is weakening...but..it's different with her. She remains strong, stronger, even. The old bitch just won't go down".

He turns to you, sitting himself across from you and pulling your body into his lap. Resting his head into the space above your breasts as you cradle him, he rolls his hands in soothing circles on your back. "You're worried", he breathes in your scent, relaxing, "I can feel it in your body, your muscles. Don't be. This will work. Come the eve of my birthday I will sneak into her room and take her heart, I'll bring it to the wyrm and this tribe will be mine to rule and lead".

You try to disguise the shudder that radiates through you as he speaks of his plan. Noticing this, he looks up at you and takes your face into his hands. "When I become leader, we will lay waste to all our enemies, leaving no survivors. We will conquer their homelands and claim them for ourselves. Their people will become ours, their forces and army falling under my jurisdiction. This tribe will grow in power, spanning for miles as far as this land reaches. The world will be ours, and nothing else will matter but you and I".

Embracing each other further, you cling to his every word as his lips meeting yours ease your nerves. You believed his promise and foretelling; with his plan nearly complete, it was difficult not to. The two of you had grown up together, and he had always promised you a better life once he came into power. Living your life always having to fend for yourself, his promises to you gave you hope that all he swore would come to pass. And now, it was looking like it all might come true.

End of memory

"It's done".

His voice startled you out of your flashback, causing you to repulse back in shock until you had scurried back up against a tree. Luckily, your movement hadn't disturbed any of the sleeping tribe. Sniggering at your reaction you caught sight of Lucio. He was standing above you, his white undershirt bloodied, the dagger at his waist still dripping with blood. "Come, we must deliver the heart while it's still dark", he grinned brightly at you as you stood. He outstretched his hand for you, palms and fingers red and pungent with the scent of coppery blood. In his other hand he held a dark, dripping bag. You didn't need to ask what was in there.

Taking off into the forest, Lucio sprung off a nearby log, letting out a loud whoop of excitement. You kept up as best you could, though his joy seemed to give him an extreme burst of adrenaline as he sped on ahead of you. You caught up to him, finally, standing in front of a withered fire pit. The air grew thicker as you approached, you quickly noticed all the noise of life seemed to silence. Taking the dagger from his waist belt, you winced as you watched Lucio slit open the soles of his feet. "I don't think I've ever seen you look more insane", you blurted out. Lucio only laughed as he stood. Grimacing as he took a few steps toward you he brought your body to his, swooping you over his leg as he dipped you down. One hand under your neck and the other supporting your back he kisses you passionately, his lips tasting every inch of your mouth.

"This is the first day of the rest of our lives", he whispers.

Leaving you a few paces back, he returns to the smoldering fire pit and strikes it with his flint and steel. Catching instantly, the flames erupt and morph into a hideous pale pink wyrm, it's flesh shiny with mucus, it's tendrils squeaking from the moisture. You retain the urge to cringe at the sight.

"Ahh..the main course", the creature beams.Revealing Morgas heart from the bloodied bag, he offers it up to the wyrm, who ravishes it hungrily. "Mmmm! Oh yesss.....I see now why you saved your mother for the final touch....so rich..so....powerful..However did you manage to acquire such a specimen?"

"That's for me to know", Lucio smirked. From afar, his bloodied figure was illuminated by the moonlight. He looked crazy. He looks consumed. But this is necessary, everything will be okay. You release a nervous sigh, shaking the wariness as best you could. "I've delivered my end of the bargain, wyrm, now pay up!"

Licking his tendrils clean of Morgas blood the wyrm nods before producing a single red beetle in its grasp.

"Behold, the key to your future..", it says gravely.

"Is this a joke?", Lucio scoffs. "How is the symbol of my tribe the key to my future?"

Suddenly, the tendrils squeezes the beetle in front of Lucio, it's blood spraying over him in fine red powder. He instantly goes into a coughing fit, "...the...fuck!?", he wheezes.

"Behold, the Great Scourge. From your tribes symbol, a great sickness. You will be its primary host, immune to its effects. Your enemies shall fall to its strength, incurable to even the strongest of healers; the lands will be yours, their people yours, you will see victory with every passing battle...consider our bargain fulfilled.."

With a great heave and moan, the wyrm dissipated into smoke, it's ashes adding itself to the fire pit that once more began smoldering. Lucio sunk to the floor, still coughing as he put on his boots. Taking this as your signal, you approached. "Lucio?", you called out. "Y/n...I...I feel so....good". He rose and turned to face you, you instantly gasped. The whites of his eyes had gone red, his nails had grown considerably longer, and the sprouting of what looked like horns began emerging from under his tufts of hair. "I know..", he responded to your reaction, "I feel it"."What exactly do you feel?", your voice trembled, his horns continued growing. "The Scourge..it pulses through me..it's intoxicating. Oh, y/n, I wish you could feel what I do"."Well...How is this Scourge going to help us?" Lucio thought a moment, thinking. "Let me show you", he rushed towards you, lifting you up against a tree. Your lips instantly connected with his. "At my whim, life will cease to exist..", he said through kisses. The smell of his mother's blood seemed to fill your nose, making you grow squeamish. Gazing down at his shirt, you noticed the blood staining his shirt writhed about frantically, moving along the linen in anxious ferocity. "All life...whenever I want it to...to whom I want it to...you're lucky I chose you..", he pulled away, breathless and smiling. Letting you down, you pull your back away from the tree trunk, only to find it now blackened and dead, it's leaves beginning to drift down on you in frail chips, snapping into fragments at their descent. "A plague..", you whispered into the night air. "It's as I promised, y/n...",he cooed. Placing his hand over the dying tree it dissolved under his touch, black plumes of smoke floating away. In his palm now lay a large circlet, an entanglement of the dead branches and bark entwined together. A crown. He approached you slowly, delicately, "The world will be ours..", he placed the crown on your head, its edges still whispering plumes of black smoke, "...and nothing else will matter, but you and I".

[No date available.]