Chapter Text
Lumine supposed she could only blame herself for this situation. Anytime she tries to do something good, it almost always backfires on her.
When she had first awoken, she found herself laying in rubble remains of dark crystal; she speculated she had been trapped in a crystalline cocoon-like device until something (or someone) smashed it open. Interesting.
What was more interesting was after reorienting herself, she found a stretch of path leading to a flourishing city-state, crowded with chattering people and advanced architecture, all of it gilded gold and white. Lumine didn’t remember much from her brief visit here before, but she was certain it hadn’t been there before.
She was doing a readily good job of staying in the shadows. She had changed from her garments to more localized clothing that her nimble fingers had snatched from a nearby laundry line. Her eyes darted around, taking in it all. She had visited some oppressed places before (the Soviet Union was a kicker) but this was a whole entire level. The air was practically vibrating with unsaid tension and unease.
How much time had she lost, exactly?
All of sudden, something hard and warm collided against her cloaked back; her reflexes were still sludgy, so she wasn’t able to recover quickly. Instead, she let out a gritted cry and stumbled a few paces forward.
“What-?” Lumine spun, her gaze darting left and right before slowly glancing down.
The wide, fearful eyes of the child met hers. Her lovely white hair was sleeked with grime and dirt, her clothing torn and shredded.
She let out a choked sound and jerked back, as if burned. “P-pardon me, ma’am, I-”
Both she and Lumine flinched as a carrying voice echoed a few meters back. “The Constillion Guard is on official business. Please stand to the side.”
The child spun back to Lumine, desperate. “Please. Please . Help me.”
Lumine eyed her, then glanced uneasily at the parting crowd. She could see the beginnings of what looked like 5 total people, all dressed in the same conservative white, all carrying sleek polearms.
Oh, what the hell.
She jerked the hood of her cloak over her head, masking her face. “Come,” she said, grabbing the child’s hand before running.
“The bounty has manipulated someone in an attempt to escape!” roared the same booming voice. The sound of foot hitting earth was getting louder behind us.
“Dammit,” Lumine breathed, weaving smoothly between merchant stands and carts. People fell back, gaping at her. “We won’t be able to outrun them like this.” Her gaze fell back on the child, who was floating (odd, considering no one else seemed to have the ability to float. Perhaps that was why she was being hunted?) helplessly behind her. Her resolve steeled as she took in her frightened expression.
Lumine made a sharp right turn, escaping into a dark alleyway. She skidded to a halt, her half-formed planned floating vaguely in her mind.
“Uhm,” the child began, quivering slightly. “What-”
“You asked me to help you, didn’t you?” she tilted her head back and offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Right now, I’m asking you to trust me in exchange.”
The child hesitantly bobbed her head in affirmation. Bolstered by this, Lumine turned, and summoned her blade.
The familiar scatter of glowing light swirled around her dominant arm, the sudden blaze folding in on itself to form her trusty weapon.
Or what once was her trusty weapon.
“Not you, too,” she groaned when she saw the state of her sword. “First my powers, now my sword has gone dormant as well? Goddammit, that complicates things.”
“Complicates what?” the child repeated, alarmed.
“Get behind me,” was all Lumine said in response.
In seconds, the Constillion guard was upon them, fanning out, surrounding them. 5 spear points stabbed at their direction.
“Lay down your arms,” said the guard in the middle. “This is the word of the Chāoyuè Xīngchén. We must take that creature into custody.”
“A child? Into custody?” Lumine didn’t budge an inch. “Well, the Chāoyuè Xīngchén’s word can go to hell, along with all of you.”
“That thing is not a child,” he said calmly. “And even if it were, it does not change the fact His Transcedence has called specifically for it. This is your final warning. Lay down your arms.”
Lumine leveled her weapon at him, a surprising smirk curling her lips. “Why don’t you come here and make me.”
A still moment. Then both sides burst forth into action.
Paimon fell back, cowering as Lumine charged, her fingers deftly curling around the handle and swinging it outward, forcibly parrying their initial attack.
She alternated between between swordwork and hand-to-hand combat; she knocked the polearms out of two guards’ grasp and drove them both through their skulls, and leapt forward to meet the remaining three.
She could feel the heady rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins, and she laughed, giddy from her battle high as she pressed on her advantage.
They rapidly fell back, the shock and fear evident as the two previous guards fell in unison, blood staining the floor crimson.
She swept the floor with her foot, knocking one guard to the ground, using him as a shield as the other accidentally stabbed at him. She fell onto the remaining two, sword tip aimed straight for their hearts-
A huge, powerful gust of wind surged between them knocking both the guards and Lumine back. She dug her heels into the dirt, coming to an uneasy halt.
“What the hell was that?” she muttered to herself, glancing around apprehensively. Her eyes fell on the child, who was no longer quivering, but started at something behind her with intense relief.
“Tone-deaf Bard!” she exclaimed.
“Tone-deaf what?” Lumine turned back around. Leaning against the back of the alleyway was a being clad in shocking green, holding what appeared to be a lyre. He grinned a child’s grin, then gestured for them to follow him, his dark braids swinging as he turned and ran.
Paimon jumped forward, tugging at Lumine to follow. She obliged, and together they ran after him.
They continued running for quite some time, because finally the bard stopped in front of a building and entered the door. Swinging in the front was a sign with the words Angel’s Share etched upon them. Reluctantly, Lumine entered as well.
The tavern was dimly lit, but even then Lumine could see how clean and tidy it was, which was unusual for taverns in her experience. She fell back, leaning against the wood pillar by the door, and eyed the bard shrewdly as he set down the lyre.
He turned, and up close, she could make out his features more clearly. He really liked the color green, Lumine noted, taking him in. His feminine frame was wrapped in a fluttering green cloak, with matching green pants and a jaunty green hat nestled in his black-to-green hair. Even his eyes were a blue-green.
“Shouldn’t we have taken the opportunity to escape?” she asked bluntly. “Why are we still here?”
“The Constillion Guard will be thinking the same thing, so they’ll be sending search parties out to the borders. They won’t bother to investigate here.” The bard smiled. “But I digress. On behalf of the Shogun Insurgency, I thank you.”
“For what?”
“Saving Paimon.” the child smiled brightly at her. So her name was Paimon. “Most people wouldn’t have gone to the extent you had today.”
Lumine shrugged, uncomfortable. “It was nothing.” Her curiosity peaked. “Why were they chasing you anyways, Paimon?”
“I’m a known member of the Shogun Insurgency,” Paimon bragged, proudly puffing her little chest. “The Chāoyuè Xīngchén wanted to take me down, and find out what we’re planning. Not that I’d give up anything to him!”
“I think it’s more likely he was going to hold you ransom against us,” the bard said, humor in his voice. “You forget everything that happens at our meetings.”
“That’s so not true! I do too remember, Tone-deaf Bard!” she argued, folding her arms and huffing.
“Planning… as the Shogun Insurgency,” Lumine repeated, reeling from this onslaught of new information. She tried to connect the dots. “Okay, so… this is like some sort of revolt?”
“You could say,” the bard replied. His eyes darkened. “It is a little odd you haven’t heard of us. The Chāoyuè Xīngchén has made it clear anyone who aligns themselves with us will be severely punished. And yet you helped us anyway. What’s your agenda?”
“I…” Lumine comtemplated how much of the truth to covey. They seemed to be fully honest with her, so in return, she decided to tell them about her situation. Perhaps they could help her find her brother. “Truth be told, I’m kind of a traveler. Of… of worlds, so to speak. I was confronted by a celestial being upon visitation of this world, in particular. Long story short, I was put to sleep for quite some time. All I want to do is find my brother again. That’s it.”
A ringing silence descended at her words as Paimon and the bard looked at each other, eyes wide.
“You’re a traveler ?” Paimon echoed faintly, paling visibly.
“Well, yes,” Lumine said, perplexed.
“And… you happen to be looking for a lost sibling,” the bard added, looking at her with evident shock.
“Yes.” Hope flared in her chest. “Have you see him?”
“Oh, we’ve seen him, alright,” Paimon muttered, causing the bard to give her a sharp glance.
“I’m sorry, Lumine,” the bard said kindly, although his gaze was now a wary one. Suspicion also spiked inside Lumine.
“You said my name,” she noted guardedly, her sword hand open, ready to summon her blade. “I never told you that.”
“You didn’t have to. I have heard of you. From the Chāoyuè Xīngchén.”
“I don’t understand.” Lumine felt as though her heart was attempting to burst out of her chest. “Only Aether would know my name.”
“I’m sorry,” the bard repeated, hesitating slightly before speaking the horrifying words that sent Lumine into a spiral.
“Chāoyuè Xīngchén is Aether.”