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Chapter Text

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Princess Vanessa Tremaine only insisted on having the best.  The best hairstyle, the best dresses, the best food, the best posture, the best adoring looks sent to her.  It's what her mother expected of her.  And yet, the single best Vanessa would want most made her mother scoff.  Who was her mother to pick the best suitor for her?  She knew for certain that not just anyone was going to work for her temperament.

It's only after a walk in the village bordering the forest that she finally found him.  She couldn't help but stare and drink in every detail from afar once she noticed him standing there.

He was a handsome man, humbly so with tempered, thick red hair that curled at the ends and deep maroon eyes so sharp with clarity and flecks of gold.  His skin was a lovely peachy color, tinted rosily in places most likely to flush.  His nose was a little large, but pointed and upturned.  He was dressed in a modest but vibrant red coat with beige pants.  The handsome man played a violin on the street corner with an upturned hat on the ground to catch any coins people may toss his way.

Deep in her heart, she knew this was who she loved, and who would love her in turn. 

On first glance, he looked very much like a fairytale prince and that was something Vanessa wanted deeply.  Slowly she drifted over, the singing of the strings washing over her, and she dropped a few coins into the hat.  He smiled and nodded at her politely, and continued to play.  She stood and listened to the song until the evening threatened the sun.  At long last, the performance concluded, and he nodded to her again silently.  "I-I liked your performance!" she attempted to start, hoping to spark a conversation.  The violinist's soft features twisted a little into an expression of slightly sardonic wit.

"I certainly hope so, miss, otherwise I'd be concerned with you standing there so long." he responded candidly.  His voice is strangely smooth and gruff at the same time, with the sort of grit that belonged on worn down sandpaper.  It was a nice lower tenor that simply oozed with sheer personality.

Vanessa decided she liked that about him, too.  And his frankness despite her being the princess of the greater Subcon area.

It was her turn to incline her head a few degrees in greeting.  "I, uh, wanted to introduce myself after the performance.  My name is Vanessa.  I don't think I've seen you around Subcon before?"

He blinked at her, mildly surprised before the smile was back on his face.  Quickly, he bowed to her properly like the good-mannered man he looked like he was before using the movement to deftly retrieve his violin case with what she noticed as long, narrow fingers, good for detail work.  "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Vanessa," he warmly told her, the grit refining itself into a smoother sound, "My name is Luka.  I am rather new here since my father was recently appointed Earl of the Subcon Forest."  He picked his hat up off of the ground, which looked hilariously enough like a mailman's cap, and he fished the coinage out of it.  The description still didn't ring a bell unfortunately, so she would have to dig deeper. 

"If you're the son of the earl, then why are you busking on a street corner?"

A lamplighter ambled by on his duty as the skylight dimmed into twilight.  The darkness only made her conversational partner's eyes brighter than before, nearly glowing in the low light as the gold flecks in his eyes caught every scrap of illumination in the area.  Luka's smile returned right back to sarcastic semi-smugness at her curious question.  "A man's gotta have his hobbies.  Mine is collecting donations for various things through busking."

That was certainly interesting.  "What do you donate to?"

He shrugged.  "Orphanages, local soup kitchens, beggars that need that little extra boost in coin." The hat was plopped onto his head unceremoniously.  "Standard places to donate, generally.  I contribute my fair share of my own funds where I can, of course, but it takes a village to care for the village in my eyes."

Vanessa's heart damn near swelled to bursting.  "How noble..." she couldn't help crooning.  She found the idea adorable, frankly, donating to people when she was fairly certain the kingdom provided for them as it was.  Luka flushed at her cooing, face turning red enough to make a tomato jealous.  Adorable.

"A-anyways," he interjected, all quippy bravado deflated, "I should return home soon.  My father still imposes a curfew on me, if you can believe it."

"Can we meet again in the future?" she asked, hope creeping into her voice and onto her face.  

He looked at her with a smile on his face, softer than the smug one from before.  "Yeah, of course.  We can mail one another letters to set up a time and place, that sound good?"

She nodded fervently.  This was going to be wonderful.

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Vanessa and Luka had exchanged letters back and forth after that first meeting to get to know one another better.  She knew that he loved reading and painting and had a passing interest in astronomy.  He knew that she adored snow and fairy tales and puppet shows and was next in line to be queen of Subcon.  They discussed many things, their studies, where collected donations were going, interests the two were surprised to share, such as the beauty of Subcon Forest and the music that had led to them meeting.

They had arranged a meeting together in the smaller village of Sleepy Subcon, a creatively named hole-in-the-wall bordering the forest where Luka's manor resided.   It had taken Luka only a day to learn the paths of all the streets when he'd first moved in due to how small the town was.  It was meek, barely worth an earlship in any regard, but an earl needed to be stationed for the woods as well.  

Luka waited anxiously by the heart of town where a small fountain cheerfully puttered along, planting his hands in his pockets and glancing around since he was out in the open and expecting to be stared at as both a newcomer and the son of the new earl.  Children ran around and played, donning the masks Sleepy Subcon were known for and looking like all manner of foxes and rabbits and ghosts as they made their games.

Vanessa would be here soon, a thought that sent an excited thrill through his limbs to combat his nervous energy.  He'd get to see that beautiful woman again and talk to her freely.  Normally, Luka was a bit of an introvert, self-isolating and quiet when he didn't need to put his knack for acting to good use and pretend he was a people person for whoever's watching.

He hoped that at least he could unwind with Vanessa.

He caught the sight of green in the corner of his eye, and looked up just in time to see Vanessa in her emerald glory walking up.  He didn't curb the wide grin that cropped up on his face.  "Why, hello there!" he chirped, waving to her, and her face absolutely lit up at the sight of him like she had the first time they'd met.  

"Nice to see you again!" she greeted back, unceremoniously plopping herself into a seat on the lip of the fountain he stood by.  "So, Luka, how have you been since the last time I saw you?"

He took a seat next to her and let his long legs stretch in front of him.  He neatly folded his hands in his lap.  "Wellll, it's been going pretty good.  The money I collected that I mentioned in my last letter went to help fund the building of a house someone needed." he explained casually.  He tapped his chin with his folded knuckle pensively.  "I… started my studies, the ones I told you I was planning on taking recently.  I'm hoping to be a lawyer someday." he smiled at her.  "Wanted to tell you that in person and not have it on record to avoid being called a dork perpetually.  I explored the woods a but in my spare time, too, to investigate what exactly made it so scary, and no news on that front yet.  And that's about all I can think of for my time spent.  How about you?"

Vanessa shrugged.  "Just your bog-standard princess stuff, training up to be the next queen." she huffed.  She propped her elbows on her thighs and supported her head on her hands, looking a tad grumpy.  "Mother gets harsh if I'm not up to snuff, y'know? If she found out I was talking to you, she'd arrange suitors to keep us apart even though we're just talking, most likely to make sure I'm serious about being the queen .  Ugh."

Luka winced at that.  "Saying that isn't very nice of her is an understatement." he lamely stated.  "I'll do my best to keep our little chats a secret, then."

The smile she softly offered as a response made Luka's heart flutter.  

Vanessa was most definitely a beautiful woman.  Her hair was long, blond, and wavy, paired perfectly with deep blue-green eyes that Luka imagined resembled the ocean.  Her face was heart-shaped and manicured perfectly with a light layer of makeup to cover any blemishes she may have.  Her face was softened with the light of fondness and kindness, though something about that kindness felt a tad off to Luka.  Nonetheless, she was the kind of respectable person Luka wouldn't mind being queen.

Luka stood up and offered a hand to Vanessa.  "If we plan on meeting one another in person more often, then let me show you around, and maybe we can get something to eat from the bakery."

The way Vanessa's face lit up at the suggestion warmed Luka's heart in an almost literal way, he swore, and she took his hand.  "Such a gentleman!  Lead the way, noble lawyer!" she accepted in a half-joking tone.

People stared as he led her around town, and he could hear the whispers they passed around, but he couldn't find it in his socially anxious heart to care.  Her hand was soft and small and cold compared to his long, nimble digits adorned with various calluses and warm like he'd taken a handshake with a fireplace.  Gently, he guided her from the center of town along the cobblestone streets of Sleepy Subcon.  Their small procession was slow and methodical, peppered with conversation about the town around them and what information Luka had absorbed through history books.  He’d wanted to do his due diligence when his father had been promoted.

“Did you know that Sleepy Subcon is the town that hosts the most festivals in Subcon?” Luka asked conversationally at about halfway through the tour.  By the way Vanessa’s brows went up, she didn’t.  He couldn’t stop the fiendish smirk that possessed his cheeks.  “Yeah, there’s a celebration for the full moon every month, standard harvest festivals, the first day of each season, and even a costuming festival that focuses on protection from creatures in the forest,” he explained.  “I haven’t had the pleasure of attending one yet, unfortunately.  I’ll be sure to mail you a portrait of the mask I make when I do get the chance to, though.”

Vanessa chuckled.  “Do you have a mask yet?  From Sleepy Subcon?”

“Not yet.  I wanted to wait for my first festival, to make it special.”

Vanessa nodded slowly at that sentiment.  “Yeah, that makes sense.” she agreed.  “Well, I can’t wait to see what the mask looks like!”  She lightly tapped his shoulder almost consolingly.  A couple of citizens openly stared at Luka and Vanessa, and that made Luka’s nervous energy spike.  Nonetheless, he smiled as he continued to lead Vanessa through town.

“Aaaand there's the manor I live in.” he finished with a sweeping gesture.  “Three floors, just about, not including the basement and attic.  My father hired someone to decorate the insides in some retro gothic fashion.”

“It’s so cute!” she cooed.  Luka felt a small touch of pride, even if it wasn’t strictly his home.

“Do you want to go get something to eat, then?” he asked and she pursed her lips thoughtfully.

“... I don’t think so.  My mother is going to notice if I’m gone for much longer.” she sighed.  “I’ll mail you, though, and maybe we can go to your first Sleepy Subcon festival together.”

His enthusiasm was tempered.  “Yeah, that sounds about fair.  I hope your trip is safe, then.” he wished, and he bowed again.  “Do you want me to lead you back to whatever vehicle may be waiting for you?”

“I would appreciate that, yes.” Vanessa agreed, curtsying shallowly.

The procession began anew with a fresh taste of urgency in the air, Vanessa describing where the carriage sat and Luka tracing the path back to the location.  And for just a moment, before she climbed onto the carriage, Luka stopped her by continuing to hold her hand, raising it to his chest.

“I-I can’t wait to see you again.” he smiled at her, earnest and increasingly certain that what he was beginning to feel is in fact some kind of love.  She stared at him for several moments in surprise, turquoise eyes tracing the features of his face and locking with his own.  A smile slowly wavered onto her face, a little unsure but affectionate all the same.

“Me too.  I’ll write to you as soon as I can.”

Luka released her hand and bowed to her, and she climbed into the carriage.  He remained there in that position until the carriage was well and truly out of his line of sight.

“... Peck.” he sighed as he straightened up.  “I’m catching feelings.”

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Vanessa couldn’t believe her mother.

The princess had discovered numerous letters from would-be suitors after looking for a response from Luka in the mail.  There were many, from all across Subcon from fresh earls like Luka's father to her mother's most trusted advisors.  She hadn't known there were so many nobles in this country.

There was going to be a ball .  Mother was going to make her choose a suitor .  All for forging a friendship with a man.

It wasn't fair!  Vanessa should be allowed to make friends!

She could feel the temperature in the room drop a few degrees, and she realized that she had to temper her rage before addressing her mother.  Magic was a gift passed down her family line, cropping up every few generations after all, and Vanessa was only the newest recipient of this gift.  It was different each time it appeared, and Vanessa's was a powerful and chilling ice.  She was not the first to have such a power, but hers was certainly the most potent.  She had to keep a handle on her emotions or else she could wreak havoc.

Once she'd calmed herself down sufficiently, she stalked off to her mother's room.  She knocked politely, a little more force than necessary making her knuckles ache.

"Come in."

Vanessa entered the room.  "Hello mother, I was checking the mail and noticed letters from many of the nobles of Subcon." she began.

"Yes.  It's about time I get you a man to marry." the older woman responded, disdain dripping from her voice.  "We are going to have a ball.  I'll send out invitations.  If you don't pick a man at that party I will. "

Vanessa bowed her head.  "Yes mother." she hummed.  Vanessa just said she saw the letters, mother .  There's no need to spell it out for her like that.  Though, the prospect of her mother picking a man to marry for her was a chilling one.

"Once you're married, you won't be able to speak with your little secret boyfriend or whatever out at the edge of the forest."

Vanessa's anger spiked.  "He isn't my boyfriend, mother.  He is simply my penpal." she countered shortly.

Her mother simply glared at her, and Vanessa winced from the sheer heat of the look.  "It doesn't matter because I will not let you see him again."

She bowed her head, knowing that arguing would only make things worse.  For all of her anger, she had no real ability to speak up about it.

"... Yes, mother."

Chapter Text

Luka had been invited to a ball.

Now, this fact shouldn't have been as odd as it was. But it was a royal ball, being held by the queen. Vanessa had mentioned this as a possibility, so he supposed he shouldn't be surprised, but he couldn't help but wonder why he of all people got an invite. He was the son of a newly appointed earl in Subcon, he shouldn't even be on her radar.

Unless she knew about the letters.

Luka refused to pursue that possibility, however. He simply chose to accept the invitation at face value, because considering the alternative made his chest hurt from the sheer petrifying heat of it.

Instead, he chose the diplomatic route. Feigning innocence.

He brought the letter to his father, eyes wide in imitation shock. "F-father, we just got a letter from the Queen. She's requesting I go to a ball as a suitor for the Princess?"

Okay, maybe not all of his shock was ingenuine.

His father looked up from the paperwork he had been saddled with since his promotion. Real surprise painted his features. "Really? Already? And for your little penpal?" Luka nodded slowly, playing up his numbness juuust a tad. If his heart didn't lay in law, he figured he would have made a good actor. Unexpectedly, his father's face grew solemn. "Then, with that in mind and the possibility of marriage around the corner, there is something I must tell you. Please, pull up a chair my son."

Luka, suddenly blindsided, pocketed the letter and pulled over a chair at random to sit down. His father laced his fingers together and bowed his head.

"It is tradition to tell members of the family when they are about to go off and start their own. Rumor has it that the first of the Pennecots had been cursed down the entire bloodline, especially the boys." His father closed his eyes. "He was told a prophecy of sorts. 'Listen well, king of fools. Someday, your kin shall suffer a death as cruel as the deepest winters, and shall suffer such a death twofold. Only when time itself cries for him shall he find peace once more.' That's what he was told, according to legend. To try combating this curse, he married a magician." Earl Pennecot bowed his head. "So… there is a curse in your blood, allegedly. And magic. The kind, no one knows. It's never truly appeared, so most believe it to be rumors. But with the magic the Tremaine family holds…"

Ice magic. Not all of them had it, but it appeared often enough to count as a sort of omen. Luka knew immediately what his father was thinking, and with that realization came the odd feeling of premonition. The sinking feeling in his gut that just told him it wouldn't go well.

But this was Vanessa. She was kind and sweet and caring, and would never hurt him.

"Now, magic can show up at any age, but the older you get the less likely it is. You're at a prime age for it to pop up, however. Keep an eye out in case anything weird happens, okay?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, sure Dad."

"You should take a day to process, alright? This is a lot to heap on you at once. Go rest, boy. I'll let you know if anything urgent happens."

Luka nodded dumbly and stood up to walk out of the room. He felt like he was going to burn from the inside out. He must be really anxious about this.

A curse. And magic. And a ball to see who gets to marry the princess of Subcon.

Luka was fairly certain his head was spinning like a globe. He needed to ground his thoughts before he passed out or something along those lines.

He needed to go for a walk. Clear his head. Think some things over before his heart turned itself into a lantern. Without a word, he got to his feet and simply wandered off out of the manor and let himself be carried by his instincts into the woods.

Subcon Woods was always a dark, thick forest, easy to get lost in. The sky was always obscured from the sheer density of the branches above, even during winter. There were thick swamps where there weren't dizzyingly tall trees that threatened to swallow unwary travellers that found the ground solid enough to walk. Luka was no unwary traveller, however. He wound through the trees with practiced ease, tracing a path he knew by heart to the center of the forest where the trees thinned enough to relent some sunlight to the floor below. And from that heart of the forest spiralled a tall, ancient tree with the middle slowly rotting out, the tallest tree in the woods.

This was Luka's favorite spot in all the forest. He sat on a nearby mushroom, a species native to the area that glowed soft pastel colors to accent the darkness beneath the canopy, to contemplate what his father had told him.

Unfortunately, the trek to the woods had become so second nature that it had done nothing to calm his nerves. It had been so mindless, all he could do was dwell on it. And with that dwelling came the crippling, burning anxiety.

Fear hadn't always burned in his heart. It had simply been a clench of the muscles, a painful twist. But lately, the twist had come with heat, heat that was lingering longer and longer and he feared it would swallow him whole. His father's words came to mind, that magic allegedly ran in their blood. It would be just his luck that he would be the sole magic user in the family. Luka tried to think, to pinpoint a single moment where the fire began to eat at his ribs when fear coursed through him, but he couldn't really think of any real moment when he first noticed the heat.

… He idly wondered if he could use it.

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Vanessa was loath to quietly accept the ball preparations. The affair in itself was garish and needless, and the princess could only sabotage some small things without suspicion, such as scattering boxes of decorations under the guise of clumsiness or losing responses to her mother's invitations before they got to her.

No, Vanessa was not doing very well at delaying this gathering. It made her ice magic flare up, that knowledge. Frost perpetually followed her around more and more aggressively as the date of the ball approached. Her mother had been confirming nobles' sons left and right. Some commoners even managed to make the list from the sheer audacity of their offerings.

And Luka had made the list. He had even sent her a letter confirming it, that at least one friendly face would make the event more bearable. Seeing him was the only thing she was looking forward to at this event. She had asked him details on what he would be wearing, but he had been vague and that she'd know it when she saw it. Unhelpful. She could just see the smirk on his face as he wrote that down. Why was he so infuriatingly charming?!

Even with the promise of Luka making the whole affair more bearable, Vanessa was still left in an irritable mood.

To add onto her irritation her mother had conscripted her into some of the most tedious task of this ball; designing a dress. She didn't know why she had to wear a brand new dress for this event. She had plenty of others on hand she could sort through, even fancier ones for political events Mother dragged her to.

She had been poked at, measured over and over, and nearly froze the hand off one tailor in a fit of annoyance at being jabbed on accident. They couldn't seem to make up their minds. Constantly picking different colors, patterns, designs, it was dizzying. They'd almost completed a dress at one point before completely scrapping it and starting over on a word from her mother.

Vanessa hated it.

It took forever for the tailors to settle on a dress her mother approved of. Literal days, likely to prevent Vanessa from sending letters to Luka.

The dress that was decided on was a pastel blue. The trim on it was white and darker sapphire. Vanessa personally thought it made her skin look washed out, but she currently had no say in this. The dress was simple, with the bodice an a-line cut and underlaid with darker blue that stretched to the collars and the white sleeves that were puffy all the way down to her wrists in white. The skirts were layers of the blues and white, looking like a patterned imitation of the sunny skies above.

It was nice. It would have looked nice on anyone other than her. Blue wasn't her color, and sky motifs didn't suit her. But she wouldn't complain, her mother would throw a fit and the tailors would simply have more work on their plate for finicky royals.

"The dance is soon." her mother reminded her. "Only a few days now."

Her smug smile made Vanessa want to slap her. But she could stay calm. Vanessa could suppress her rage long enough to make her mother stop being so smug.

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The day of the ball finally arrived. Luka was a nervous wreck, though he didn't look and act it. By some miracle, he had passed the ludicrous screening process the Queen conducted for Vanessa's suitors. It included rigorous questioning, an in person interview, a tour of his house- the rumors about the Queen's sour attitude were reality, and it only fuelled those rumors further and transformed her into a boogeyman of sorts.

It all made his chest painfully hot. He had no way to regulate either. If it was really a sign of magic, then he had no clue how to tap into it. As it stood presently, tapping into magic would be the worst possible scenario. He would end up making a laughingstock of his father.

He and the other suitors that were up to muster stood in a line while waiting to be announced to the public.

The courtyard of the castle was grandiose and enormous, surrounded by high fences and interlaced with large stone trellises hoisting up roofs of grown roses to shade the public. The pathways were lined with painted tiles, leading to a core central circle of tile for people to commune. Tables were set out around the yard, both to hold food and drink and to sit people for meal and conversation. The center circle was kept clear for dancing, and there was a small temporary stage for musicians to stand and play.

The suitors were kept inside the castle, to be let out one at a time after the Princess was announced to the congregated noblemen.

Luka was last in line, one of about seven total suitors. He had been last in the process too, as the lowest of the nobles and least likely to be picked.

He fidgeted while he waited, straightening his tassled epaulets and braided pocket watch cord. His neighbor glared at him, and Luka was fairly certain that he was making everyone else nervous. But he couldn't help it. If he kept standing like a statue, he would completely combust.

The doors to the room opened, and the Queen strolled in with an elegant cane in hand. "In position, the lot of you," she instructed coldly, the tapping of her cane punctuating her rhythm. "We're about to start introducing you to the public as suitors to the Princess. I wanted one last look at your sorry hides before you go and make fools of yourselves."

The Queen glared at all of them as she walked by them. Her gaze was as hot as a blacksmith's current project, and it only added to the fuel in Luka's chest. Nonetheless, he stood firm, shifting into the needed position.

"Regardless of what happens tonight, know that one of you will be a very lucky man. Make sure I don't regret any of you being allowed in my home." she warned darkly, glaring at each of them in turn.

After a few more moments, the Queen walked off and Luka allowed himself a shiver. Say what you wanted about the Queen, but she knew how to hold your attention and make her point clear and concise. Enviable, really, were she not a complete terror.

The process in announcing the suitors was an exact one. They had to stand just so, legs perfectly straight with the heels flush and the toes posed at a forty-five degree angle, with the left arm folded behind the back and the right in front like a butler. When one was announced, the named man would walk forward, left foot first and take steps approximately 1 foot apart in distance, taking into account the height and leg length of the suitor in question. He would bow to the public, thwn to the Princess, and take a seat at the specially designated table. When it came time to dance they would each, one at a time and in the order they were announced, stand up, bow at the waist at an approximate thirty degree angle with their right arm held to their chest and their left hand offered to the Princess to initiate and lead the dance.

It was all a detailed process that had been drilled into Luka's head since he made the cut, and all of his lanky glory in position made him feel like a particularly awkward heron standing there.

The first name boomed out to the gathering, son of the Lord of the central most city of Subcon if he recalled, and the man standing farthest from Luka walked out with a smooth gait, almost skipping gleefully as the doors incremented open for him, then shut to hide the rest of them.

The next one was a similar story to the first, a city noble that took the march out like instructions to a dance, making himself a graceful sight. One of those two are most likely to get chosen for Vanessa to wed. Luka would still play the game like he was meant to, however. He had no intentions of disrespecting either Vanessa or his father like that by not following protocol.

One by one, the suitors were announced and sent out like sacrifices to the maw of some great, social beast. The ranking of the nobles decreased one by one, and their enthusiasm waned just as greatly. The man right before Luka nearly slouched his way into the courtyard, a Marquess' son on the other side of the country on the border of the mountain range.

Luka straightened his stance further, just to be safe.

There was his name.

Internally, he calculated the spacing of his steps as he rigidly waltzed out into the busy courtyard, only a few sets of eyes on him as expected since his father was only an Earl.

He couldn't help but wonder if the forest could be seen on him, in his untamable curls or in his heavy eyes or the lean square in his shoulders. He could tell that it had begun to sink its teeth into him slowly - ready to swallow him whole someday as it did to anyone that came too close - in the little things about him. He was quiet, deliberate, thoughtful, guarded.

He wondered if it would scare them. If he would be regarded as a wild child if they knew. It was slightly thrilling to think so.

He sat at the assigned table in the only available seat, and he set his eyes properly on Vanessa to take her in.

"I hate to say it, but blue isn't your color, Vanessa."

Surprised eyes locked on him, the other suitors looking at him in horror. He simply responded to the looks with a civil smile.

Vanessa's reaction was to groan theatrically. "I know, it greys my eyes out. I didn't want to complain though, because designing the dress was a whole ordeal." she complained, lolling her head in a permitted display of disceremony.

"It makes your hair look off-yellow too, and the undertone of your skin is too warm to match with the shade of blue. The design of it is nice, though." Luka continues. One of the City Boys glared at him harshly for his criticism.

"And who are you to decide what looks good on the Princess?" the other suitor demanded. He's a taller man like Luka, with a willowy build and honest to god partially grown sideburns. Luka shared a look with Vanessa, and the look she gave him screamed let me handle this.

"Luka is actually a friend I'd made on a trip to Sleepy Subcon," she illuminates. "Mother didn't approve, and I'm frankly stunned he ended up on the approved list."

"I'm stunned too, with that attitude," the other city boy pitched in. This one was portly and shorter than City Boy One with a clean-shaven face and hair carefully coiffed to frame his face as flatteringly as possible, though there was little to be done for fixing pug-ugly.

Luka couldn't help but shrug. "What can I say? The forest has its claws deep in my bitter little soul."

Vanessa snorted at his description, and a couple of the other suitors seemed to take some amusement in the obvious joke as well.

"But enough about me," Luka amended, turning his attention to his neighbor, the Mountain Marquess. "You live by the mountains, right? Is it true that there's a law college being established there by Subcon to improve relations with the neighboring country?"

The Mountie jumped at suddenly being addressed. He fiddled with his hands, tugging at his sleeves and wrinkling the fabric. He was the most average looking person that Luka had ever seen, frankly. "Uh, I think so? I don't really pay attention to that stuff, Father handles it all. Uh, he does want me to go once it's established."

"Wonderful!" Luka clapped with a wide grin. "If you do end up going, maybe we'd be classmates."

"You think?" the Mountie asked, getting pensive.

"Yeah! I'm currently taking tutelage for law myself, and once the college is ready my current tutor intends on being a teacher there."

Mountie got pensive at that. "... Honestly, I was dreading going, but… knowing someone might help. Maybe I can send you a letter when all this fanfare is done and we can talk more about it?"

The son of the Earl nodded in response. "I'm amenable to that."

He's socializing. He's going to get graded handsomely for being able to act like a normal person in public, and it was normal to want and possible to have a generous grade on acting like a human person like this. Father will be pleased.

Chapter Text

To be honest, the party wasn't really as bad as Vanessa had dreaded it to be.  There was to be time dedicated to dancing which she dreaded, but that was after the meal and time spent getting to know the suitors.  She already knew Luka quite well, and she just wanted to talk to him, but she knew if she focused all her attention on him, it would be suspect.

The meal had come and gone in a blur, and she barely remembered eating any of it.  Damn her mother and her rules on how swiftly Vanessa could clear her plate.

The time for dancing was swiftly approaching, regrettably, and she could already feel the ice in her blood threaten to decorate the chair.  The day was unseasonably warm, however, and it made it easier to keep a cap on her magic.

The time for dancing finally arrived, and Vanessa quickly mourned her feet as Francis, son of Duke Elmer of Halbac stood to his full height and bowed.  He was tall, with an attempt at sideburns trimmed neatly.

She took his proffered hand - clammy to the touch and grip too tight - and let him lead her to the dance floor. She could see the nervousness on his face, but his ballroom dancing was decent.  The music that accompanied the dance held her attention better than the rhythmic movements themselves, and before she knew it the first dance was over and Archibald of Jaskier Falls was offering his hand to her, which she took to repeat the process.

It was a dizzying haze of disinterest and ground-in activities that bored her to tears over the next hours and blistered her feet from the friction against her shoes.  She barely even registered half of it, and it was only when Luka in his distinct bright red coat was offering his hand to her, head bowed, that she returned to herself.

" Luka, your hand! " Vanessa screeched, hands going to the sides of her head.

Luka's head whipped up, and the man finally noticed the oily-looking dark blue fire consuming the offered limb.  He screamed too, naturally, and he bolted for the food table holding the queen-sized punch bowl, dunking his hand in it and summarily ruining his clothes even further than the fire would have.  The crowd stared at him in shock and horror, since spontaneous human combustion isn't really common outside the deserts and he just had the most ghastly behavior of all the suitors in that moment.

Tradition and procedure be damned, Vanessa dashes over to check on Luka's hand, hoping her ice powers would be good for something like treating a burn.  When she pulled his hand out of the punch…

It was fine.  Damn near untouched.  Only some greasy purple soot smudged it as if he had been careless with some colorful charcoal.

At glacial speed, Vanessa turned her eyes from the hand to the face of its owner, who had a distinctly vacant expression of someone who was entirely shut down.  Unwittingly, her grip tightened and cooled.  There was no denying the magic in that fire.

Why hadn't he told her he had magic?  What else was he hiding, if he was hiding something this big?

A hand harshly gripped Vanessa's shoulder and roughly jerked her away from the man dressed in red, and she could see him shaking, the punch frozen to his sleeve.

"I believe," her mother's voice boomed, "that this event needs to be cut short for everyone's safety.  I have made my decision.  Have you, Vanessa?"

Vamessa's heart leaped into her throat.  Oh no.  Oh no.   She hadn't even been paying attention to all the suitors, and now everything had to be rushed because of the magic being tossed around!

"I will take that as a no." Queen Tremaine sniffed at Vanessa's panicked silence.  "Suitors, indoors.  I shall bring each of you to seperate rooms, and I will speak with each of you alone about my decision.  Everyone else, you are free to leave in an orderly fashion.  An announcement will be made once the contracts are finalized."

Vanessa could only look at Luka as the nobles whispered amongst themselves.  He was staring at his hand still as if that were all that was left in the world for him.  The punch had melted quickly, now slowly dripping off his arm and sleeve like a poor facsimile of blood.

"... Luka?" Vanessa prompted quietly.  Luka jumped violently, as if thunder had clapped in his ear, and he curled his sooty hand to his chest as if to protect it.

"I-I-I-I-I'm so sorry-" he stuttered clumsily, all polite charisma turned to ash like the sleeve of his familiar red jacket.  "I should have- I didn't- I-I-" He shut his mouth quickly when some of the other suitors glared at him, and there was enough force to it that Vanessa could hear the quiet click of his teeth.

"Vanessa.  Inside.  Bring the men." her mother snapped, sending her rigid. 

"Let's… let's just go inside…" Vanessa muttered.

◇|||◇

Luka was a nervous wreck.  He hadn't meant to, but somehow he'd set himself on fire!  In the middle of a huge event every noble in the land was attending!!!   If his father got his earlship removed, Luka swore that he would walk backwards into the woods and let the swamp swallow him whole.  

The queen had sent each of the suitors to temporary guest rooms with a maid to lead them.  They were allowed to stay the night due to the long journey to the castle for most of them.  She was visiting them in turn, he recalled, and he was again last in line.

He sat on the bed in his guest room, head buried in his hands in shameful distress.  He hadn't even noticed he had been set ablaze.  And the fire looked so… greasy.  And sickly.  And was bright blue, nearly purple, which meant it was hot .  Magic is meant to be a reflection of the user, more commonly seen in people with loud personalities.

… What did a dirty, blue-hot fire say about him?  What does he not know about himself that his magic does?

He heard the door close, and he jerked his head up to look at it.

There stood the Queen, wearing the most neutral expression he'd ever seen on her face to date.  Neutral or not, he stood up and bowed to her, as polite as possible despite the belatedness.  "Sit down, boy." the queen huffed to him, more exasperated than anything else.

"Of course, your highness." he responds as he sits back down.  The queen had a particular look in her eye he couldn't place.  It felt critical, though.

"You've got magic, yes?" she asked him, tapping her way deeper into the room but making no move to sit. 

The queen was an elderly woman with long, wispy white hair, sharp blue eyes poking out of her hooded, wrinkle-hidden eyes.  She had been a tall woman once, but now she was hunched over severely enough to lose nearly a quarter of her upright height.  She was draped in all manner of blankets to shield herself from the chills the elderly often got.  Her exposed hands were bony and thin-skinned, letting Luka trace the veins with his eyes.

"I believe so," he admitted.  His unmarked hand was wrung against the hem of his ruined sleeve in anxiousness.  The queen watched him fidget with…  Was that interest?  Curiosity?  He grit his teeth in apprehension, bristling slightly without meaning to.

"Did you know you had magic?"

He shrugged.  "There-there were rumors it was in the family because of some kind of curse." he managed to get out, voice catching slightly despite the air of casualness he gave the statement.  For some reason, talking about the curse aloud feels… wrong.  Maybe because it's likely a family secret.

"Did you know it was fire?"

Luka shook his head surely.  "It was only a rumor.  No one had ever actually presented magic before."

This, he knew, rang true.  It better have.

She eyed him critically again, expression neutralizing further to a point he could no longer read it all that well.  The nape of his neck itched in response to this likely unintentional disadvantage imposed on him.  He kept his hands tied with wringing, however, no matter how distracting the urge was.

"Tell me, Luka, were you the man that was sending Vanessa letters?"

Everything damn near froze for him as he stared at her blankly, frantically fishing for something he could respond with.  Lying was not his forte, and he knew even this frenzied silence would be answer enough.  So what to do?

After several moments, the Queen sighed.  "I suppose not, then.  You needn't look so confused, boy." she ground out, normal surly demeanor returning all at once.

Had he looked confused?  He really needed to work on his poker face.  Dumbly, Luka nodded.

"Despite your lower ranking and lack of decorum, your magic is promising.  You seem to have a good rapport with Vanessa, also.  Congratulations, Mister Pennecot.  You'll be a married man soon."

Married?  Him?  After that display?

"I'm-I'msorry?" he spluttered.  The cane swiftly knocks him in the side of his leg.

"You heard me.  You're the best man out of this group of sorry saps that I know Vanessa wouldn't whine to me about.  With some proper training, you could even help counter her ice.  You will be staying in the castle for the week, then she will be meeting you regularly afterwards for courtship in your hometown.  Am I understood?"

Luka swallowed heavily.  Marriage.  That was…  daunting . More of a monolith he'd mentally been avoiding because it hadn't sounded that appealing.

"I said, am I understood, Pennecot?"

Luka quickly nodded.  "Y-yes, ma'am."

"Good.  You can call me Helen from here on out."

"Y-yes ma- uh.  Yes, Helen." he awkwardly obeyed.  Calling the queen by her first name was… it felt taboo.

"With that out of the way, I need to make my announcement.  Make yourself at home, Luka."

With that, she strode out without allowing a response.

Luka felt cold.  Glacially so.  

This was all a big mess.

◇|||◇

Vanessa considered it lucky that Luka was chosen.  He was the most tolerable of the suitors, not to mention that they were already friends.  She would get her fairytale wedding, with the only man she wanted there.

So why did she feel like this was an empty victory?  Maybe it was the abruptness of it.  Maybe it was because her mother had decided for her.  Maybe it was simply Luka proposing to her himself and the lack thereof.  Whatever the case, this whole affair left her feelings towards the wedding slightly hollow and detached.  One more duty instead of the celebration it should have been.

Her mother always did this.  Ruined whatever Vanessa got so that she couldn't enjoy it.  She did it with her hair, her dresses, her lessons, and now even her marriage.  Just once would Vanessa want to have a say in things.  Just once -

She remembered herself and forced deep, calming breaths.  She would enjoy the wedding because Luka is there.  She wanted Luka anyways, so it all worked out.  It will be fine.

Vanessa spent long enough calming down that she hadn't noticed someone approaching her.  

"Vanessa?"

Vanessa shrieked and whirled on the person, about ready to smack with a hand.  There stood Luka, visibly awkward and nervous.  

"Oh… hello." Vanessa greeted, just as awkward as him.  At the greeting, he tried to smile at her.

It was the most unsure thing she'd ever seen him do.  She swooshes herself over to him and takes his hands into her own.

"Sorry.  Sorry.  I just… I should be excited." she admits.

Hesitantly, he took her hand and curled her fingers to cusp the appendage in his own hand.  "I… know this is something we need to do." he started softly.  "And this may not be what you wanted, but… I won't make you enjoy it.  We're still friends, after all, and we can continue to be friends even while we're betrothed.  I…" he trailed off, flushing a bit.  "... That didn't make much sense, did it?  I'll-"

"No, it was fine." Vanessa interrupted, reminded of her feelings she'd been holding secretly.  "I appreciate you trying to reassure me."  She used her free hand to pat the back of Luka's hand, and he smiled at her fondly.

Only friends, she found herself asking in her head.  That might be ruining this all for her, frankly.  His insistence on friendship.  She loved him, couldn't he see that-

"V-Vanessa, are you okay?  Your hands got cold suddenly." Luka asked warily, concern lining his face.  

"Sorry.  Just mad at Mother still." Vanessa half lied. 

"Do you need a distraction from all this mess?  I can see if there's a board game or some cards we could play with to lighten the mood for us."

Vanessa considered the option.  Games like that weren't played often.  Mother saw them as frivolous.  But since Luka was offering, and it would make Mother annoyed…

"I think I'd enjoy that." she smiled, genuine.  "What do you have in mind?"

◇|||◇

Vanessa, Luka learned, was an absolute fiend in chess.  She had a much better head for strategy than him, and once he'd explained the rules to her she'd taken it all to heart.

He wasn't much of a chess player, either, he merely played on occasion.  He did his best to keep from being a sore loser over it.  Board games are hardly sufficient fuel for grudges after all.  

"And checkmate." Vanessa smirked  and Luka threw up his hands. 

"I don't know how you keep doing that!" he announced good-naturedly.  "I just can't beat the chess machine!"

That actually got Vanessa to release a rare snrk , getting Luka to grin.  "Well, what else do you suggest we play, o graceful loser?" she prompted, joy in her voice.  

He held up a finger and dug in his travel bag.  He always carried a deck of cards on him.  Shuffling cards was a great way to busy his hands when he was nervous, and solitaire was pretty fun.  "Do you know how to play blackjack?" he asked innocently.

Her belt of brief laughter made his heart clench gleefully.  "Oh, mother would hate it if you enabled me to gamble!" she crowed, and he couldn't hold back the snort.

"Well, usually, gambling is just an option with this particular game, but if you want to bet pons…"

"Nono, not betting is fine.  How do you play?"

He sat back down and began shuffling the cards expertly as he explained the simple rules to the game.  Don't let your card number count to more than 21.  Pretty easy.

She agreed to the rules, and he dealt the cards and set down the deck. He made a show of focusing on his cards while watching Vanessa as carefully as he dared.  He wanted to know what kind of loser she was in inconsequential games.

As it turned out, she was a very sore loser.  She pouted and whined every time random chance failed her, and when she kept quiet the room dropped several degrees.  Luka did his best to swallow his nerves about this.

"I think we should play something else," he suggested with a sigh.

"What, you got sick of winning?" Vanessa huffed, and Luka grimaced.  

"Because it seems like you're not having fun." he clarified.  "I know some other games that you might enjoy.  Unless, uh, you want to keep playing blackjack."

She went quiet and her face puckered slightly, a look Luka was learning meant that Vanessa was thinking.  "... I wouldn't mind playing something else," she admitted, putting her hand into the pile.  Lula did the same and started shuffling the cards deftly.

"Would you prefer playing Go Fish or Old Maid?  Both have matching, but in the first the pairs you make count up a score, and in the second you just need to make sure you aren't left with the last card at the end."

"Old Maid, I guess." she shrugged.  Luka nodded and added a joker card to the stack to be the maid.

This time around, Vanessa was much less bitter about losing.  The game was played fair, and when she lost she didn't gather a one woman mob.  That relieved Luka, and he filed that information away in his head.

Random chance seemed more likely to upset her.  When she had a fair shake at things, she'd be more amicable to an outcome not in her favor, but if it was all up to a metaphorical dice roll she would make her opinion on the matter very vocal.

Luka, meanwhile, was aware he could be petty.  He tried to take things in stride, but when his buttons were pressed a little too hard he tended to get snippy and passive aggressive.  He managed to be persuasive when shirking off something unwanted and could tell when Vanessa tried the same.

He didn't know what kind of disaster that would spell if he ever got in an argument with Vanessa.

He just couldn't see that happening, though.  Not right now.  She may be a sore loser, but that didn't mean a fight was inevitable or something.

He should pay attention.  He paired a couple card sets off and realized he had the maid.  Whuh-oh.   Did he want to wax lyrical about the card to Vanessa or keep it?  Decisions, decisions…

"Have you ever heard of Tarot cards?" Vanessa asked unprompted.

"Vaguely.  Why?"

"Have you ever wanted a card reading done?"

He sat and pondered that question.  It was very serious, to claim one knew the future.  It was simply a card game to him.

"... I don't see why we couldn't.  We can probably find a card reader in Sleepy."

Vanessa nodded, taking one of Luka's cards, a half he was hoping to pair.  "I think it could be fun.  They like to spell doom and gloom at places like that, so I want to know what they'd say about a nerd like you.

Luka wailed dramatically.  "My greatest weakness!"

"What, being called a nerd?" 

"Yes." 

"Of course you'd say that you dork." Vanessa shook her head fondly.  Luka barked out a laugh at that, earning her staring at him.

"... What?"

"I… didn't expect you to laugh like that." Vanessa admitted.

Luka flushed.  Not again.  "Uh.  It-it sounds a lot weirder when I'm laughing more." he mumbled quietly.

She smiled.  "I think it's cute."

Luka glanced at her again, embarrassment fading some.  "... Really?"

Her smile is the softest Luka has ever seen it.  "Of course, my dear."

Chapter Text

Sleepy Subcon had a mask event approaching, Luka discovered upon returning home from his week at the castle.  He was grateful that he would be in town to witness it.  

It was the upcoming Spirit's Night, where they'd celebrate to ward off the horrors of the forest for another year.

Luka had yet to get himself a mask, woefully.  He simply didn't have the time, and things were simply too busy.  Maybe he could ask for help…

The man ambled down the cobblestone main street of Sleepy Subcon when a particular shop caught his eye.

Now, a general woodworker in a forest neighboring village wasn't odd, but with the nature of the woods and the newness of it, the establishment caught Luka's eye.

Curious.  It was very curious.  What curios (heh) could be made of such cursed wood?  He simply had to find out.

The ringing of a bell greeted his entry, and the carpenter at the back of the room paused their woodcarving, a ventilation mask and some goggles shielding their eyes.  "Good day!" Luka greeted with a nervous grin, and the carver nodded to him silently.  He cast an idle glance at the wooden wares.

The entire wall to the right of the door walking in was covered in unpainted masks of varying shapes and sizes.  Luka stared, admiring the dark color of the wood and the craftsmanship.

He picked up a particularly interesting specimen, a horned crescent shape whose teeth bore fangs and eyes distinctly asymmetrical.  "Fascinating…" he mumbled.

"Does that face call to you?" the carpenter asked, amusement coloring their neutral speech.

"It looks like the moon." Luka explained.  "It caught my eye as a unique design choice." 

"It's meant to be the face of the moon." the woodworker stated proudly. "It has a pair in the sun, but acts as a lonely reflection in the darkness."

Luka was tempted to respond that he knew about the moon already, but the description enamored him. "Did you make its pair?" he asked curiously.

The carpenter set down their work and shuffled over, crooked fingers deftly catching on and passing the sun mask to Luka from lower down, who inspected it.  Wavy, bevel-centered points on a wide-eyed face of surprise.  "These are very well done." Luka smiled.  "The craftsmanship is remarkable.  How did you get these bevels so even? 

Luka could practically hear the twinkle in the shopkeep's eye.  "Trade secret, I'm afraid.  I do work very hard on them all, especially with the festival approaching."

"How much for them?" Luka probed. He figured that Vanessa would love hers, especially if they matched.

"Depends on if you want me to paint 'em for you."

Luka grins sheepishly.  "Ah, I was thinking of painting them myself."

A casual hand waves him off.  "Understandable, you have an artist's hands."

They quickly exchange the pons, and Luka walks to the exit two masks heavier than he was before, giddiness coming to mind on patterns he could paint on the masks.  He didn't want to go too crazy though.

"Tell me, do you go into the forest often?" The carpenter's voice rasped before Luka could step out in full.  All at once, Luka felt his hackles raise.  Why?  It was an innocent enough question.

Luka paused mid step and assessed the carpenter again.  Their body language was guarded but casual.  "... Fairly often.  Why?"

"You have wild hair." they remark calmly.  "And your eyes are sharp.  Everyone that visits the woods tends to."

Luka slooowly calmed down a little. "Do people frequent the forest?" he asked, curiosity winning out.

"When they do, they're fools." The carpenter sniffed.  "Even city boys have heard the rumors.  How it swallows you."  They eyed Luka idly.  "I wonder when it shall swallow you?" they hummed as they used a tool Luka didn't recognize to carve a long strip from the raw lumber on their desk.

"Then… where does your wood come from?" Luka probed, confused now as well as freaked out.

"The wood has those it trusts."  They eye Luka again and shave off a second strip of wood.  "It does the forest good to remove dead trees and clear space for the living and underbrush." 

Luka nodded slowly.  

"It lives, boy.  Consider yourself lucky it hasn't been angered by you yet.  The Elders of the village can tell you more.  Thank you for your patronage."

Luka took that as his cue to leave and scuttled out of the shop with his prizes in tow.  He might want to avoid the carpenter.  That had been oddly harrowing.

◇|||◇

Earl Perry Pennecot was, quite frankly, worried for his son.  Ever since they had moved to Sleepy Subcon, the boy seemed magnetized to the woods.  Whenever he returned, his hair was even more of an unkempt mane, and there was a wild look in his eye that only became more intense the more he visited.

Perhaps he should consult the town elders?

He'd heard about the rumors, of how the forest consumed the souls of those who entered for the power to protect all of Subcon.  Luka knew this well, also.  Luka had been born in Greater Subcon, after all.  It was common knowledge.  Especially here, with the practices around the woods' preservation and bewaring the self preservation. The Earl looks to a small portrait on his desk, of his wife long gone in her resplendent beauty.  

What would Harriet do in his shoes?  She was always a headstrong woman that had dragged him onto adventures, it's what had lead to him falling in love with her.  She’d probably reach out to Luka, try to talk to him about the woods.  Find out why he kept going there.  She would go to the elders and see if there were ways to protect him if he insisted on going.  She had loved Luka dearly, even before he was born, even if she never got to meet the lad.  He resembled her so much, both in personality and looks.  An imperfect preservation of memory.

Earl Perry's mind was made up, in that moment, and he stood to his full, great height.  He will have to consult with the elders, most likely.  For the safety of his family and the prince-consort to be.  He didn't like it, as the town elders were historically not kind to the appointed earls of Sleepy Subcon.  But he's done everything else he could think of outside of locking Luka in his room to keep him safe from the wiles of the woods.

He shrugged on his maroon jacket - seeing Luka in the brighter variant inspired him - and swiftly set out into town.  The closest of the elders was also the eldest, one of about five total.  Each was equally instrumental in the preservation of Subcon, and each played an important role.  Tale was that one of the elders lived on the edge of the woods and patrolled it like a ranger of sorts - though the fifth elder has not been seen for many, many years from what he’s heard - monitoring the health of the trees and ensuring no poaching happened from the likes of visiting cityfolk.  

The forest did not like poachers.

He knocked on the door of the elder Adoni, who answered it with suspicion, and regarded Earl Perry with even more when they realized who he was.  "What brings the esteemed Earl to the house of such a lonely old foagie?" they creaked like a well-loved rocking chair, their tone the utmost of sarcasm. The earl took a deep breath in through his nose.

"It's my son," he admitted forlornly.  "I can't get him to stop visiting the woods.  I've talked to him, tried sending him on distractions, he's even betrothed, but he still treads among the cursed trees.  I fear I have exhausted every option I have short of locking him in his room.  If you or your peers know what to do, I would be indebted to you." 

That skepticism sharpened itself to a point.  “I see."

With no warning, the door closed on Earl Perry. He sighed through his nose, expecting this, though the door opened again readily to his surprise.  The Elder wore a mask, black and cat shaped with a grassy green lion's mane and phosphorescent gold lining the eye holes and marking the nose.  In their hands was a bell with a hooked handle.  "Come with me.  I must call a meeting."

They walked through town, ringing their bell impatiently, with Earl Perry not far behind.  The bell's ringing was… entrancing.  Magical, even.  It summoned a shimmer to the air that he could have sworn was ever so slightly tinged green, and the eyes of every mask within the rippling power of the bell lit up brightly.  It was a peculiar sight, and one the Earl knew must not be common judging by all the eyes turning to them.

The other elders file out of their rooms, carrying their bells with them but not ringing them, simply a carry as a part of ritual.  Earl Perry follows behind them respectfully.  The procession enters the meeting hall near the center of town, and out of the corner of the Earl’s eye he swore he saw Luka looking on in curiosity.  People were preparing for the festival, after all, so a lot of people were outside.  Earl Perry ignores his son’s eyes on him, however, pretending he can’t see him head and shoulders over the rest of the town.

The elders all took their seats on what looks like judge's seating, five chairs in a row with the middlemost unclaimed.  Earl Perry stood, patiently but nervously waiting on them to indicate he can explain.  In unison, they set the ceremonial bells on the surface of the plinth before them.

“Tell us what troubles you, Mister Pennecot.”  The youngest of the elders requested.  Earl Perry needed to take a few moments to choose his words.

“My son… I fear he may get taken by the woods.”

◇|||◇

“Are you sure this is such a good idea, Luka?” Vanessa asked nervously, staring at the looming trees that seem to spiral impossibly high into the sky.  Luka smirked down at her from behind his ceremonial mask, a playful look, as he lead her by the hand into the Subcon Forest. 

“It’s perfectly safe, Princess.” he promised, tilting his head to the side to seemingly admire the way her mask catches and diverts light with the gold paint he’d used on the rays of the sun.  Vanessa looked away minutely, her eyes in the shadow of the mask darting to the side.

“Okay.  But after, we do something I want to do here, okay?”

“Of course, Princess.” Luka hummed, sugar in his words.

The woods were wild and thick as Luka led Vanessa into the forest.  He deftly stepped around bracken and mire artfully, like a hostile dance, and Vanessa had to follow his lead on the safer spots.  “Luka?  I don’t think this is very safe,” she warned, hoping it fell on no deaf ears.  “The mask thing is just a local superstition, and it won’t do anything if we step into the swamp or get stuck.”


“I promise you, Ness, we’ll be fine.” Luka promises again.  “The swamp’s only a small part of the woods.”

“Then we’ll get lost in the woods, instead!” she retorts drily.  “And both of our parents will think we ran away to escape the wedding, or that we eloped to escape our duties!”

Luka paused at that.  “... Are you that worried, Princess?” he asked in that softly fragile tone of voice he got when worried.  She had to resist the urge to huff unimpressedly. 

“These woods have a reputation for a reason.  I just don’t want either of us to get hurt.”

Luka loitered for a moment, staring longingly back into the woods. Fireflies flitted about among the darkness, blinking in myriads of colors not that dissimilar from the colors of glowing mushrooms that they’d passed before.  The tall, skeletal trees loomed judgingly over them and sent shivers down her spine.  Luka seemed unfairly immune to this judgment, watching the darkness for a few moments.   He sighed after a minute before turning and smiling sadly at Vanessa.

“Yeah, let’s get going back to the festival.  What did you want to do there?”

“I’ll show you when we get back.” she finally smiled.

The trek back to civilization was thankfully much easier than it was to go spelunking in the trees.  The town of Sleepy Subcon was well lit with nearly magical lights and small, finely decorated bells sit in neat, strung-up lines alongside the lights, jingling warmly as the Princess and her Prince-to-be slid right back among the crowds with suspiciously proficient ease.

She knows he ventures into the woods, but she had thought it less frequent with the rumors around it.  

Nonetheless, she sighed in relief as a feeling of safety washed over her.  She pointed out a tented stall to Luka.  It was made of cheaply-dyed purple fabric and covered in sloppy, hand-written signage proclaiming fortune telling as its wares.  She can feel Luka’s look of burning judgment at her blatant hypocrisy.

“It could be fun!” she chirped sweetly.  He rolled his eyes and sighed through his nose sufferingly.

“Okay, fine.  It’ll be as magical as a masked adventure in the woods.” he sighed sufferingly, and she took his hand to pull him over and inside eagerly.  He bonked his face on the low tent support, not having enough time to duck under it in vanessas enthusiasm.

The tent was well furnished for a makeshift event stall, lined with cushions and pillows nearly draped in rings around the low table at the heart of the room.  the table was covered in various future-telling paraphernalia, such as balls  made of crystal and dried bird bones with a small fireplace off to the side, and the promised deck of tarot cards.  the proprietor of the place was one of the village elders, draped in blankets not unlike Vanessa's mother, and face obscured with a mask that bore the face of a buck deer.  All around them jingled, from the dozens of bangles on their arms clinking together to the ceremonial festival bells draped over top the blankets, some even sewn into the cloth at the hems.  Every movement made noise, even as they simply looked up at the two entering.

"Ah," they began in a creaking voice lowly, "The Subcon Princess seeks to know of what is to come?"

Then their vision locked onto Luka.  A few moments pass of Vanessa being almost too scared to respond to the question.  What did Luka do to get such an intense stare?  What reputation has he built if he has more eyes on him than the heir to the throne?!

"And the disaster seeking son of an earl, too." the elder ground out.  "Right as it seemed the tides of luck were turning, we have harbingers of disaster waltz in and make the day unluckier."

Vanessa gave Luka a pointed look as he sheepishly fiddled with the hair on the back of his neck.  "... Whoever we may be or not, we still just wanted our fortunes read." Vanessa insisted regardless.  "I want to know how much hope I should have in the marriage arranged for us."

The elder stares at her now, eyes mere pinpricks of reflected light behind the mask.  Their entire form drooped unhappily, but they still gestured for the two to sit by the table.  "Please sit, then, if that is all you wish to do.  Such unlucky individuals should not normally be paired together, but.  If you have hope, perhaps I should too.  I shall shuffle the cards for you to pick."

Vanessa smiles to herself, pleased to get what she wants.  The elder's bony hands artfully shuffled the fat deck of fancifully decorated cards.  They fanned out the full 72-card deck, and the princess wonders how their hands don't hurt from the sheer volume.  Hers would.  "Each of you, only pick one.  You will pull the final card together." the elder instructed, nodding to Vanessa first.  She pulled a card and is about to look at its face when the elder makes a noise, stopping her

"No peeking~!" the elder singsongs a little too cheerfully, and Vanessa slowly sets the card down to avoid glares or spoiling things.

Luka pulled next, giving the elder a nervous look as he set the card down next to Vanessa's.  The elder looked between the two for a moment.  "You.  Pick a card.  Do not pull until the Princess is also holding it."  

Vanessa felt her stomach drop some at Luka's expression of consternation as he decided on a card.  What did he know that she didn't, Vanessa wondered.  His fingers lightly rested on a card, and hers follow quickly already working on yanking it out.  Luka's nervousness only grew, she noticed, and lightened her enthusiasm.  Please, please, please! she hoped silently as the card is freed of the hand.  She got a disapproving look as she set it down, Luka looking away sheepishly.

With a deft motion, the elder flipped all three cards with the single movement.  "Hm." they intone quietly, mulling over the three cards revealed.

"That one's upside-down," Vanessa points out, reaching to fix it, only to have a roll of parchment smack her hand away.  

"Do not tamper with the cards!  You'll get a bad reading.  Upside-down cards are part of reading them!" the older Subconite scolded.  She withdrew her hand, raising both surrenderingly.  That was rude of them.  Luka sighed at Vanessa.

"These cards, however..." the elder muses, tapping the upside-down card.  "Very, very interesting."

"Good interesting, or bad interesting?" Luka asked to clarify.  A light glimmered in the elder's mask eye.

"Simply interesting.  Such as this.  Inverted Judgement.  When it's flipped upside down, the meaning is reversed from what it normally is.  In this instance, self-doubt.  Insecurity, ignoring a calling."

Through their masks, Luka and Vanessa shared a look.  Vanessa didn't know what Luka might have had going on, but that in particular sounded familiar to her.

"This card represents the past, so it isn't emblematic of how things currently stand.  One or both of you may have struggled with the feelings this card represents, and that has an effect on the present.  Frankly, unsurprising."

They tapped the second card as Vanessa mulled the information over.  "This here stands for the present.  Nine of Pentacles, it looks to be.  Abundance, independence, security.  Things are probably in a honeymoon period for you two, even if you aren't married just yet.  You sit in the lap of luxury at the moment, and it looks like things can only go up.  And yet."

They lifted the third card in the line with undue gravity.  "... The Tower looms on the horizon."

Her thoughts immediately jumped to the story of the Three Towers.  

The card is spun so the two betrothed could see it fully, the image of three pale towers standing stark against a black field.  The centermost is the tallest, being stricken down by the crescent of the moon.

"Disaster is coming, for both of you.  Destruction.  Mayhem.  All senseless.  All needless.  And all you can do is pray to avoid it like a meteor passing by the Earth."

Vanessa felt her anger begin to rise.  All that, just to wax poetic over how miserable they're going to be?  Are they trying to scare them away from each other?!  She won't stand for this.  She rose from her seat, frosty with rage as little clouds of mist puff from her lips.  "W-wait!  Vanessa!" Luka squeaked at her sudden stand.

"Do you think I'm stupid, elder?" Vanessa growled.  "Just telling us the worst thing you can to scare us out of town?"  She stomped her foot, sending cracking frost and spearing ice propelling across the soft fabric of the tent.  The tall redhead jumps to his own feet, resting a hand on Vanessa's shoulder.

"H-hey!  What.  If... They aren't trying to scare us!" Luka offered frantically.  His hand is hot, a painful iron against her frigid shoulder.  "It's all random chance, like playing cards!  They couldn't possibly know what we were going to get!"

Vanessa whirled on Luka, who squeaked in alarm, utterly terrified.  After a moment, his expression hardened into true resolve and he held up a bare hand.  Moments pass before a faint blue flame flickered across his skin weakly.  His face is reddened, and his brow beaded with sweat from his concentration.  "L-look, see?  I have my fire.  You have your ice.  If one of us goes mad, or if anything goes wrong, we have each other's backs.  We can stop each other."

Vanessa couldn't help but calm down a little, ice losing its winning edge and beginning to melt.  That... was right.  Luka was right, he was specifically chosen for that reason, because he balanced her out.  They were practically made for each other.

"... Sorry." she sighed.  "I don't know what overcame me there."  

The elder's eyes glinted as they scanned things with their eyes.  "Unfortunately... I do believe that concludes the reading.  Unless you wish for a marriage counseling spread?" the elder advises, amusement in their voice.  "Mister Pennecot, I will wish to speak with you later on.  After the festivities have concluded.  That-"

"HELP!"

◇|||◇

Luka jumped in alarm at the sudden shout, and he's bolting out of the tent before even he could think about it.  There's a crowd of a good chunk of the town at the edge of the woods.  Their masked faces swivel around in concern, like the faces of particularly bothered owls.  He conjures up the most projection his voice can manage.  "WHAT'S WRONG?!"  he shouted, voice reverberating against the sky.  The crowd looked at him and parted like a river into tributaries as he passed.

A portly woman with blonde, flyaway hair poking out from behind her black devil mask rushes up to him.  Tears are falling from behind her mask, and she sniffled wetly.  "M-my son!" she explained in a warble.  "He-he ran out into-to-to the woods an hour ago!  He hasn't come back!  I told him to stay out of the woods, and now he might have gotten lost!"

Luka furrowed his brow in determination.  "I'll help you find him." he promised.  With a cursory glance around, he saw that he couldn't take any of the dainty festival lights.  The woman, nonetheless, sobbed out a thanks to him as he trekked into the dark bracken of the woods.  All that would have been seen of him by Vanessa is the tail end as he disappeared into the darkness. He extended a hand once in the treeline and - with painful concentration - a blue spark dimply danced across his fingers.  Just enough to see by.  And once it's started, it's easier to upkeep.  He couldn't help but grin to himself in self-accomplishment.

No curses or luck could keep him down.  With no fear in his heart aside from that belonging to his concern for the missing child, he strides confidently into the jowls of the holy beast.

Chapter Text

The woods became a different beast at night, Luka had found. What were familiar paths became winding and samey, straying unfortunately close to the purring growls of bushcats.

The long, consuming shadows didn't bother Luka, though. His weak, flickering flame was just enough to see by. "KID?" he bellowed, hoping the sound didn't get eaten. He paused a few moments, listening intently for a response among the echoing. There, he heard it. Plaintive, soft, distant, but still there. He tore off in the direction of the noise.

After a tense game of call and response, he found himself under his favorite tall, winding tree with rot in the middle. The area was illuminated far better with the glowing mushrooms than his piddly little fire, and he extinguished it for safety. A little boy clung to some bramble and branches a little ways up, too high up for even Luka to reach without help or some climbing, though the lowest branches in the tree nonetheless."Are you hurt, kid?" Luka called up to the child.

"I-I'm scared!" the boy cried in response. "I want my mom!"

He spread his arms as if to catch the child from the tree. "I'm here to help you get home. Can you climb down, or are you stuck?"

The child took a moment to assess his current position. "I-I think I'm stuck! And-and how do I know you aren't a ghost come to trick me?"

Luka pondered that a moment. Old stories always said that the dead, the Dwellers, wore their masks when their business was unfinished. A ghost wouldn't have a face otherwise...

"What if I took off my mask? To show my face?" he offered with nary a beat. The kid boggled down at him.

"But the trees! They'll eat you up!"

Luka chuckled a little, probably scaring the kid a bit. "I think they already tried? But I'm fine." He reached up to his mask, making the kid yelp as he pushed his mask up. Without the mask on, the forest air felt oddly heavy down his back, and the colors in the darkness felt just a touch brighter. He didn't know why, he'd been in the forest at night tons of times by complete accident.

The boy stared down at him from the tree, shivering in bewilderment. "You're the earl's son! That's crazy for going in the woods all the time!" he blurted out, and Luka grimaced a bit.

Luka flinched ever so slightly at the accusation. Kids say the darndest things... "I may be the crazy tree hugger, but that's what's getting you home!" Luka faked a confident smirk. The little boy swiveled his head around for a few moments.

"I-I don't know how to get down..." he admitted sheepishly. Luka looked around for something he could use to potentially catch the kid. The mushrooms? No, that would make the lights less powerful, plus it would hurt the plant. Direct him to the side to climb down? No, the bark was too smooth, and the thorny brambles suffocating the tree would be painful.

"How did you get up?" the man shot up.

"T-there was a rope! I grabbed it 'cause I thought it was for playing, but it pulled me up here!" the child sniffled. Luka had never heard of ropes appearing in the woods out of the blue before. He'd never seen it, either.

"Well, let's see about getting you down. Do you feel safe dropping down for me to catch you?"

The kid shook his head vigorously, and Luka looked around again. After a moment of considering the lesser of evils, he grabbed one of the mushrooms, a softly glowing blue one the size of a couch cushion, and hefted it out of the ground. It was heavy and let out a loud crack as it was decapitated, the light dimming some from the shroom but still there enough to see by.

One concern assuaged, he supposed.

"Okay, I have a mushroom here. Soft and bouncy, safe to land on. The tree is too slippery to climb down, so you'll need to drop. Do you think the mushroom is good?"

The child assessed the mushroom and tree pensively. "Y-yeah, should be." the kid mumbled, just loud enough for Luka to hear. Luka nodded and maneuvered under the tree.

Hesitantly, the little boy lowered himself as low as possible before dropping from the branch. He bounced off the mushroom, inertia getting eaten up by the squishiness of the shroom - Luka felt it bulge and try to escape his hold, releasing a horizontal puff of faintly glowing spores directly into his face from how he was holding it - and the child bounced a little before settling on the mushroom head. Luka sneezed and beamed.

"You alright? Nothing hurts?"

The masked child nodded frantically, clambering off the mushroom to cling to Luka as best as his reedy arms could. Luka dropped the mushroom head next to its stalk as best as possible before wrapping his arms protectively around the kid.

"What do you think you're doing?" a familiar voice hissed in his ear, and Luka yelped and recoiled.

A tall, imposing figure wrapped in mossy pelts and weilding an axe stood behind him, eyes of the large mask illuminated from within. "You are disrupting the woods." the voice hissed at him, oddly familiar.

"S-sorry! I-"

The figure harshly hushed Luka. "Wear your mask, fool."

"... The carpenter?" Luka asked after a bewildered moment. The apparent elder facepalmed.

"Get your mask on! This isn't a game! Can't you feel the Dwellers weighing on you?!"

Luka hastily pulled his mask on. He'd heard of what Dwellers do. On festival nights when they were most restless and being assuaged, they weighted down people without masks and lured them into the woods to join them. He glanced around himself, oddly lighter and almost expecting the faceless ghosts to appear around him from casting them off. The elder relaxed a touch. "Why are you in the woods? On tonight of all nights? We are supposed to leave the woods clear completely on the All Spirits Festival, for it to hibernate."

"I g't lost." the kid sniffled, turning his head to the elder. "M' sorry. Mama said not to play here, but I thought it looked fun."

The elder looked between the two. "... And the earl's ever-noble son came in to rescue you? Hah!" They point to the mushroom cap. "That piece of the ecosystem did not need to die. It was senseless."

Luka couldn't help but feel his anger rise. He rose one hand in a defensive fist, as if expecting a fight. "Listen. It was the safest way to get the kid down. The bark on that tall tree was too slippery to safely climb down, especially with the bramble, and if I tried to grab him while falling he could have gotten hurt. I wouldn't have touched it if there were another way."

"And how, pray tell, did a child climb an unclimbable tree?"

"There was a rope!" the kid repeated. "It was blue and shiny and I thought it was for swinging on like in town!"

The elder went silent at that proclamation, and they glance to the sky briefly. "... A haunted noose? This early in the year?" they mutter to themself quietly. "Those only come out in winter..."

"The things that try to pull you to the heavens early?" Luka asked, clarifying the story

"Not quite. The myth is quite warped from retellings. It simply pulls you up and leaves you there. It consumes the soul slowly, so it traps it, like a pitcher plant almost."

The boy shudders in Luka's hands. "So it's good the kid let go before he got stuck with the rope, then." he summarized.

"If that is how you wish to put it, so be it." The elder sighed. From the darkness, they extend a staff covered in those little ceremonial bells strung up around town. "But this transgression cannot go unpunished, I'm afraid."

"What sort of punishment? And are you going to punish a random kid for being a kid?" Luka challenged, twisting his stance so that he's effectively shielding the boy.

"Nothing worse than what the Dwellers would do to you. Just a little bad luck."

"Isn't the kid getting hit by the haunted nooses bad enough luck?" Luka prised. "And getting stuck in the tree? I'll take whatever bad luck you have in mind twofold. It's unjust to punish a child for not knowing any better, and I already have the luck of a doomed man according to Elder Sherub."

The carpenter stared Luka down, and Luka concentrated to make flames bloom across his fingers as a hopeful threat (It had been a bit easier to will the fire this time. Maybe he's getting better). He won't back down if they won't. The woodworker gasped quietly at Luka's sickly blue flames, lowering their windchime of a staff in awe.

"So you have magic... And flame, at that..." they mused quietly, barely audible in the deafening silence of the dead woods.

"Uh. Yeah?" Luka's confusion made the flame splutter a little. This is the second elder to be interested in him for some reason...

The elder walked up to Luka slowly, raising their staff to poke at Luka's mask. The jingling made it light up from within with an odd red light. "Hm. Curious." they muttered quietly. "The woods seem to have its grip on you. The masks wouldn't do much for you on any other night, not anymore. It's likely going to impact whatever magic you evidently have."

Luka felt a shiver go down his spine, and the fire in his hand flared brighter for just a moment. He felt the kid's eyes bore into him. "You're magic?" the boy asked with wonder. The elder blinked, as if they forgot the child was there.

"Certainly looks like it." the elder hummed, moving to poke the boy's mask with the staff. It glowed a soft yellow-green. "But while he was silly for not wearing a mask, you did well to protect yourself. No hauntings for you, young mister."

The boy bowed his head sheepishly, and the elder stood once more. "We should get you home, before I go holding you up any longer and the Dwellers know you more. Pennecot, you know the way, yes?"

Luka nodded slowly.

"Good. Meet you there. I will need to speak with the other elders and arrange a meeting with you regarding that magic of yours." They jingle off into the wooded darkness, leaving no trace whatsoever that they had so much as existed.

"... Let's get you home." Luka hummed once the silence fell again, oppressive against his skin suddenly. The boy nodded frantically in response.

◇|||◇

Luka had been the talk of the town for the past few days, to Vanessa's dismay. His little stunt with the kid in the woods had sparked discussion across half of Subcon. It had gotten them some serious glares too. Ugh. She loved him, but he could be an idiot, even if a noble one that ran off to save a kid.

And her beloved, noble idiot ended up going and getting himself sick. Apparently, he had broken the stem of one of the mushrooms in the forest and caught farmer's lung. They had only discovered this the morning after the festival, when he had woken up wheezing like someone that smoked tobacco all their life.

Currently, she had laid a wet cloth on his forehead to try alleviating the fever he'd inevitably gotten. His breathing was shallow and rapid, and Vanessa worried that he may need a doctor to come in. He was mumbling incoherently under his breath as she tried to help. Something about the forest. Of course.

She heard slow, quiet footsteps behind her and turned to see Earl Perry Pennecot entering the room. The man was tall - not as tall as Luka, but still notably a tower of a man - and portly, beard and moustache streaked with grey from age and stress. What looked like his entire face drooped upsettedly as he observed his son. "How is he?" Perry asked softly, trying not to disturb Luka as Vanessa rose to standing.

"Fever hasn't broken yet, and he's talking in his sleep. Same as last night and this morning." Vanessa reported. "We should probably call for a healer or something for him."

Perry stared down at Luka, eyes shimmering wetly. "He's such a fool…" he sighed, a line of thought Vanessa had had herself. "But the child he'd rescued from the woods is perfectly fine. Didn't inhale any mushroom spores or sustain any curses."

Vanessa sighed in relief at that. "That's good…" she hummed, looking back to Luka and caressing his cheek with the back of her hand. "... I cant tell if what he did was stupid or brave. He has no fear of what's behind the treeline." she mused, prompting Perry to nod.

"He's always been headstrong. Runs in the family."

Vanessa gave him a curious look, and he smiled sadly. "His mother."

The blond nodded in mild shock, just now realizing that she had seen neither hide nor hair of Luka's mother and her heart sank slowly.

"Is she…?"

"She lost her life during childbirth," Perry explained. "It's a wound as old as Luka, but… some scars have a reputation of aching."

Vanessa nodded, flushing in embarrassment. She felt awful for even asking. "What… was she like if I may ask?" she gently probed, sitting back down and petting Luka's hair soothingly as he coughed lightly. Perry's eyes sparkled fondly as he pulled over his own chair.

"Let me preface that with the story of how we met." Vanessa leaned forward curiously, interest peaking and wanting to learn more about Luka's family. "My beloved Harriet was a headstrong woman. Even when we were children, she was always getting into trouble and dragging me after her to get out of her messes."

"Did you grow up together?"

"We did. She was older than me by a year, but our parents were friends so we spent a lot of time together. The first time we'd come face to face, I was about five, and her first order of business was to take me to trample the nearest field of flowers. We got scolded so hard for running off." He sighed nostalgically. "The next time we met up was right after we were done being grounded. She stole off to the library without telling her parents and met me there while I was doing school work."

"Did you used to live in the same town?" Vanessa probed in curiosity. Perry nodded, digging into his pockets and pulling out a small, palm-sized portrait. It was a small recreation of a wedding portrait, of a younger Perry and a lovely woman with hair just as auburn as Luka's smiling brightly together during a slow dance.

"We loved each other to death. She was the one to propose to me, and it was the highest honor I could have been offered. Greater than even my earlship."

Vanessa clamped down on any thoughts regarding the earlship being lesser. She didn't want to taint this.

Perry leaned back some, eyes misted over as a sad smile bristled his moustache into an upturned curve. "She was a brave woman. Always spoke her mind and never took anyone's guff. I always admired her tenacity. S-she... She was so honest. And kind and passionate, And I know for a fact that she would have loved Luka to pieces." He sniffled as his voice choked, some tears trailing down his face.

"You miss her?" Vanessa asked gently, clasping her hands together. Luka's mother sounded nothing like the Queen. Had she been alive still, Vanessa would have been incredibly envious. "She sounds like she was a remarkable woman. I wish I got a chance to meet her."

Perry pocketed the miniature portrait and withdrew his handkerchief to daub at his face. "I wish you could, too. She would have really wanted to meet you."

Vanessa felt pride well up in her chest. She had parental approval! Well, she didn't need it, but it was nice to have.

Perry slowly stood up. "I'll go summon for Elder Persimmon to check on Luka," he hummed sedately. "Just in case. Please keep an eye on him."

Vanessa nodded, watching Perry lope off with a surprising amount of quietness for such a large man. She looked back to Luka, who was wheezing quietly and pale. Silently, she replaced the towel on his forehead.

... Please be okay...

◇|||◇

Luka wasn't quite sure where he was. He knew he felt floaty and that stars and the tinkling of bells followed him, but beyond that he really had no clue. He wasn't even sure if he was himself here at the moment. He approximately touched down softly on some carved marble walkway, more informed than actually experiencing it.

He's all alone here, he could tell, and he pondered the space for a few moments before beginning to wander. He heard whispering behind him after a few minutes, and he spun to find-

He's in the forest. When did he get here? And where is he going?

Because, he found himself watching his body puppet itself on autopilot from over its shoulder, unable to change direction or even how fast he was walking. It was an oddly out of body experience he found himself hating. He watched as his body pulled out a wicked machete and began hacking through the underbrush with abandon. Luka sat in mild horror at the sheer callousness of hacking away important underbrush like this.

He - the hunter, as Luka decided to call him - called something out in a garbled voice. From the bushes climbed a child, small and slight but still hale and wearing a distinctly Subcon-style painted mask - the eyes glowing faintly and all - and carrying a lantern with a dim candle inside. "Y-you're going the wrong way," She warned in a slightly accented voice. "The-the monster in the woods likes the secret springs closer to the mountains."

"Would a beast of the trees not find good company with that of its peers?" the hunter asked of the girl, and she shook her head. Luka was confused, having never heard of a monster in Subcon outside of stories.

"It-it likes to eat magic. And staying away from people." she described, and Luka's heart clenched in his chest. The poor kid clearly didn't want to be there. Why did the hunter drag her here? He felt the hunter purse his lips.

“Very well. An adjustment to the path to head more northeast, then.” he noted sourly. He grabbed the girl roughly by the wrist - making her squeak in pain, which ached Luka's heart - and started dragging her along.

“Y-you're taking me home when you save us from the monster, right?” she asked him sweetly as she was pulled. The hunter smirked down at her.

“Of course! And with the money I get from selling its parts, your little hamlet is going to live like kings!”

Luka knew the little girl shivered with him at that declaration. A creature of the woods being killed and sold for sport instead of for the hunter's needs and survival? The idea of that felt... wrong. The hunter continued nonetheless, following the periodic directions the girl gave him until they entered a clearing filled with the ruins of a former Subcon village, one Luka had never really seen on his forays into the forest. The hunter veritably threw the little girl to the side to stomp towards the ruins and start searching for any beasts. Luka is finally able to peel himself away from the hunter and sits next to the girl to check on her.

She began softly sobbing as Luka sat with her, and several minutes passed before the hunter came back in a furious rage. “It isnt here, brat! You lied to me!” he snapped, hoisting the child up by her neck. Luka felt an intense rage in response to this, but he was forced to hang back and linger for some reason.

“We told you! There is no forest monster!” the girl yelled back bravely, promptly being shaken in response.

“I want my game!” the hunter barked. He ripped the lantern from the girl’s hands. “Now I have no choice but to torch the woods to draw out its creatures!”

The brave little girl puffed up her cheeks angrily. “The only monster in these woods is YOU!” she screeched with all her might. The hunter threw her to the ground and smashed the lantern against the nearest tree. The fire caught quickly, spreading between the drier wood at lightning speed, and the little girl screamed in horror.

Something about this was strangely familiar to Luka for some reason. But whatever it was, the feeling of deja vous was wiped away by intensive, all-consuming rage. How dare this interloper destroy the woods! Luka watched as the hunter actively used his machete to spread the fire further, and he pounced.

Him and an army of fire spirits leapt for the hunter as one from the anguished trees, howling out their displeasure.

“KILL HIM!" Luka contributed alongside the other voices baying for blood. The hunter screamed in fear, and the group of spirits set upon him with vicious fury, rending him apart piecemeal with wickedy sharp teeth and claws, and torching each piece to ashes - sometimes still on his body - until there’s nothing left but the blood splattered on the forest floor and greasy wafting ash. With the threat handled, concern welled up as he and the spirits approached the little girl, pausing at some invisible barrier he knew he couldn’t cross.

After a few moments, the girl looked up at them all. Slowly, hesitantly, she removed her sun-shaped mask to look at the spirits with her doey brown eyes. “You saved me…” she breathed in wonder, and Luka floatily danced over to the girl to kneel at her side.

“You were very brave, young miss.” he told her soothingly. “What strength the daughters of Subcon have.”

“I-I had to be strong!” she sniffled. “He-he wanted to kill everything!”

He pulled her into a spectral hug, unable to stop himself and not wanting to. “Youve done a wonderful thing, child, and that shall be honored. But for now, rest. Rest and let yourself be a child once more rather than a warrior in waiting.”

She clung to him, slowly descending into fearful sobbing. He held her, rubbing circles into her back until the sobbing let up and she looked at him. “C-can I go home?” she asked meekly, getting his smirk in response.

“You only need to follow the stepping stone path. Magic will follow your lead to heal you and the woods.”

Luka felt his vision blur as he recognized what he was saying. Wasn't that a fairy tale? He wasn't a spirit. He felt an intense sense of sudden vertigo, and he startled awake in a haze.

… Was it all a dream? He tried to make himself sit up, but between his weightlessness in the dream and the mooring of blankets on top of him, that quickly became an impossible task. Ugh. He’s all sweaty, he realized.

The door to the room opened and in walked an older person Luka recognized carrying a medicine bag, the florist’s grandparent. They were wide and strong, with long hair tangled with leaves of the herbs they grow from the town apothecary. “So youre finally awake,” they chuckled as they strode in confidently, as if they were young like him. “How do you feel, dear?”

"Gross." Luka croaked out with some effort. The medicine person chuckled and sat by hin, setting their bag down.

"An understandable feeling," they hummed kindly as they tested his temperature with a cool salve he vaguely recognized as some color changing one. "Hm. Still a little warm according to the thermometer paste. Any shortness of breath?" He slowly shook his head, and they nodded approvingly. "Good! That means the drugs are having an effect!"

Luka giggled wheezily at the joke as the doctor pulled back. "You can call me elder Persimmon, Luka. But not Percy. Percy gets ya killed. But to lighten up on the jokes, do you need anything, son?"

"M'thirsty."

Suddenly, the elder barked out, “SNOW PEA, GET THIS GOOD BOY SOME WATER!” Luka stared up at the elder in alarm, and they smile sheepishly. “She’s apprenticing with me today.”

The town florist bustled into the room shyly, toting a glass of water along for the ride that Luka's eyes immediately latched onto and followed like a hunting predator. Persimmon helped Luka sit upright and he eagerly accepted the drink, downing it with cautious greed. With half the glass down, he paused to get in a breath or ten.

He sat the drink to the side and mused for a few moments, searching his words in his slightly fevered, still-hazy state. "... How long was I out?"

"Out cold or out of your mind?" Persimmon dryly shot back.

"You know what I meant." Luka huffed tiredly.

Snow Pea buried her face in her hands as Persimmon cackled at him. "You're so easy to rile up, I'm sorry. You were sustaining a fever for about three days there. Out cold the whole time."

Luka spluttered at that. "THREE DAYS?! I had lessons yesterday, I'm so late-"

"Cool your briars, boy, your father and the princess handled it for you."

Luka flopped on his back with a woosh of air. He got his forehead patted sympathetically. "Man, I was excited for that lesson. We were gonna toy with fallacies. Last one before my tutor moved to teaching on the mountain border, too."

"Of course you would say that, you nerd." Vanessa's voice rang as she slid into the room. Persimmon and Snow Pea backed off to give the two space. "How are you feeling, dear?" she asked, giving him a brief peck on the tip of his nose. He blinked in surprise, not expecting a kiss anytime soon.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I. Feel. Gross. Fever kicks up a bit of a sweat apparently."

Vanessa mocked offense at the declaration. "And you didn't tell me that before I kissed you? Now I need to take some soap to my mouth!"

The two giggled a bit as Vanessa sat down slowly. She sighed softly as they settled down. "So... your teacher is a woman?" she probed, awkwardly casual, and Luka nodded while wondering where she was going with this. "You don't... do anything, right?"

What.

"Like those stereotypes about raising grades?"

He couldn't stop the disgusted curl in his lip. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the florist and elder bustle out of the room at top speed. He didn't blame them, he hated this conversation instantly. "What do you take me for, Vanessa?! I'd never do something like that, even if we weren't betrothed. It ruins all academic integrity, and I'm frankly not into that."

"Not into what?"

Internally begging for Vanessa to stop digging, he let some deep noise out of his throat, too insulted to really care about Vanessa's awkwardness. "Canoodling. In general. I just. Never wanted to give anyone the horizontal tango. Now can we please stop talking about this?"

She nodded and flushed red, looking away pointedly, and Luka returned the favor with a dark glare on his face.

"I'm... sorry." she apologized, releasing air like she'd been holding it. "I don't know what came over me there, and that was... invasive. And rude, and inappropriate."

"Damn straight," he muttered, looking back to Vanessa. "But. It is a discussion we will need to have at some point. Just. Not now. Not with out of the blue accusations on the tail end of a mushroom spore bender. I'm not even certain the paperwork has been signed yet."

"Mother finished drafting it yesterday." Vanessa hummed, face still pink with embarrassment but turned back to look at Luka.

He laid back in bed, staring at the ceiling through bangs he internally noted needed some brushing. "Oh." he hummed, that odd sinking feeling returning, the same one he'd gotten after getting the invite to the ball. "So it'll be official soon? Do you know if we need to sign it, or do the parents only sign off?"

"Betrothals are normally parents only, unfortunately." Vanessa sighed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on Luka's bed. "You should know that, mister lawyer."

He knew an olive branch when he saw one. He cracked a weak grin. "I don't know that much yet."

"Well, why not? You're already so smart."

"Well, see, the reason is that I need to read more books. I'm not enough of a nerd yet to know everything ever."

Vanessa snickered. "I never know how you come up with so much sarcasm so fast, I usually have to think about it."

He tittered out a short, two-note cackle. "I guess it just runs in the family! We carve only the sharpest of silver tongues."

She turns her eyes, big and doed, his way. "Goodness, I can't get over how cute your laugh is.

"You haven't heard me really laugh yet." Luka promised.

◇|||◇

The castle on the edge of the Debirdi Desert cut an imposing silhouette. Wintershade Grove was hardly the most welcoming capital on the planet, but it was a large one.

A sprawling, circular city that was beginning to grow taller than it was wide, and a manmade river cut around it as irrigation and protection from any invaders. Many of the buildings here were made of coalstone - a black, slightly sooty to the touch rock excellent at insulation against temperatures as well as resistant to erosion - the castle included, and against all odds the greenery here flourished like the forests on the other side of the country. The edges of the town just outside the moat had a thin, low wall of white stone resting there as the city limits' border. The air, though, was coarse and hot, ever so faintly tasted of gritty sand and carried over from the deserts to the northwest marching ever closer, ever slowly.

And all Perry Pennecot could feel, staring up at a cloudless blue sky, was complete and utter dread.

He was here for one reason and one reason alone, and it wasn't sightseeing. No, he was here on business, as much as it pained him to think of his son's love life as business or part of his job. Once the betrothal documentation was signed and finalized, wedding preparations would begin and that would consume a good chunk of his time. This was going to be hard for everyone, especially Luka and Vanessa. Though...

Luka had always been an odd bird. Cusping into adulthood, where other young men his age would be chasing romances, he had always stuck to his books. Perry had suspected him a late bloomer, but it had continued well into adulthood. As far as Earl Perry was aware, his son had never taken an interest in anyone, be it a woman, man, or something else. But the way Luka and Vanessa interacted and meshed...

Perry wondered if he found the one woman Luka may have taken an interest in.

The carriage he was riding in trundled quietly through the town as Perry mused nervously. It pulled to a stop in the circle in front of the castle doors, and the driver climbed down to open the door for him. Perry climbed out of the carriage and nodded politely, palming a tip of a few dozen pons to the driver. Queen Helen had arranged the ride for him, but he wanted to remain polite.

By the front door, a guard wearing a sky blue cape stood at attention. "Are you Earl Perry Pennecot?" she asked him gruffly. He nodded slowly, and the guard jerked her head.

"Follow me then. Her Highness is waiting for you."

She turned on her heel sharply, and Perry had to start a brisk pace to keep up. He was led through some winding halls, and the pace slowed some as they entered a long, wide hallway.

The walls were covered in paintings. There were so many, of varying sizes and seeming importance across the styles of multiple artists.

Some of the past Queens, the ones known to have a kind of magic, seemed to be painted with props of sorts to signal their power. Past fire users holding candles, plant whisperers wearing crowns draped with ivy, light manipulators sitting with fireflies. They were each the most beautiful and intricate of the collection.

Perry noticed something with the ice users, however, that seemed to be a trend. The first had held a crystal, just large enough to be considered a table decoration if mounted properly. Then the next held a glass wreath about the same size as her head. And the next, a glass raincloud balancing on long, thin raindrop spires the size of the subject's torso. The last, three crystalline spires reminiscent of the Three Towers story posed around the Queen in the painting with them.

To him, it spelled a very clear fact out: the ice users were the ones becoming more powerful as magicians. He found himself wondering about Vanessa's place in the lineup.

The walk was long, but the guard eventually led him to the doors leading into the throne room.

The doors at the end of the hall were large and ornate, carved in with so much detail it was a wonder one couldn't see through them from the depth of many of the carvings. Darkly stained embossing had been matched carefully with the coalstone's deep greys.

Two more guards flanked the doors here, holding wickedly sharpened polearms. Perry was indicated to pause as the guard leading him approached the other two. A brief discussion, and the door was opened. Perry was gestured at, and he walked into the room after his guide.

Through the large throne room they went, quickly enough that Perry couldn't get a good look, and through a smaller door in the back into a conference room.

Queen Helen I of Greater Subcon stood firm next to an intimidatingly large conference table, back to Earl Perry as he entered. He bowed respectfully to her as he entered the room, the guard hovering close by the door and leering at Perry.

"Hello, Earl Pennecot." Queen Helen hummed gravely, making Perry feel as if he were about to sign a death warrant.

"Good afternoon," he greeted back politely.

"Rise, please."

Perry stood to his full height at the command, and she looked up at him in the eye.

"I want you to understand that this is a legally binding contract, and few will be able to nullify it once it is signed. Read it thoroughly and completely." the Queen stated sharply. She unfurled a scroll of parchment onto the table, long and sprawling and covered in paragraphs of legalese.

Perry gingerly picked up the parchment to read through the document, already dreading the dryness of the text.

All in all, the terms were agreeable and concise. The document's length came from the sheer amount of stipulations that came with arranging the marriage of a throne's heir to a low-level nobleman's son.

In summary, Perry would be getting something akin to a dowry, a handsome payment in exchange for his son's hand in marriage. Luka and Vanessa would be living in both the castle and Perry's manor. Courting would properly begin immediately after the signing of the document, and all wedding decisions fell under the final say of the Queen. Luka would be regarded as a Prince Consort to Vanessa once she became queen. Perry would see no further promotion, which he was fine with in all honesty.

"This all seems reasonable to me." Perry nodded as he set the parchment down, having read the text on it in full. "May I please have a pen and ink to sign?"

The Queen nodded stiffly, and a guard walked over to set down a tray. On it was the requested pen and ink, alongside an ornate metal wax stamp, a velveteen blue ribbon in a solid stately color, and a candle of gold-sheen wax. Perry took up the pen, a finely ornate implement with acid engravings lacing across the metal of the nib unobtrusively.

Queen Helen took the contract back herself once Perry signed, signing on the second line there with more speed and flourish than a doctor. From there, she lit the candle up to begin letting the wax melt and used it to neatly affix the ribbon, featuring a small disc of certification that sat under the dripping, gold wax alongside the fold of the ribbon.

With waxy tears from her candle, she blew the candle out and set it aside. She seemed to mumble a small prayer as she pressed the stamp down on the patch of wax.

"There. It's now official." Helen remarked. "No treasonous little penpals for Vanessa, and your son has the honor of being the prince consort."

The Queen didn't know about Luka and Vanessa being penpals? ... Perhaps it was best that he kept his tongue on that front. If Vanessa said nothing regarding it, it wasn't his place to drop that anvil.

"Next, we plan the wedding. And courting can begin officially." Queen Helen smiled coldly, as if the document didn't already say that. "And may I just say, Luka is going to be a very lucky man."

Chapter Text

Flint was a very lazy fire spirit.  When xe found a spot xe liked, xe often settled down and vegetated until the ground beneath xer smoldered.  Xir friend Magnus' chair was no exception to the rule xe set, either; if anything, they were an example!  Flint stretched xerself across the high back of Magnus' wooden seat in the Sleepy Subcon courthouse, enjoying the smell of smoke lingering in the air, when something interesting caught xir attention.

Now, Flint had a very good memory.  Xe heard all sorts of footstep patterns.  The elders each had their own, and the guests did too.  Even Earl Pennecot had a unique gait, slow and heavy like a mountain goat.  Magnus always had three feet in a step from their walking stick.  Sherub jingled from the bells they wore all the time.  Persimmon had a clopping gait that was slow and methodical.  The pattern making its way into the courthouse was a new one.  Long, light strides with a healthy side of urgency.  Xir eyes slid open to see who exactly had such wide steps.

Oh!  Xe perk up as xe saw the Fool of the Forest walking into the building like had something to do, wild auburn curls bouncing and tangling themselves uncontrollably and the ever-so-faint, charcoaled scent of fire magic wafting into the room.  Xe'd heard about him!  Every spirit in the forest had, with how brazen he can be about not wearing a mask!  Xe'd been excited to meet him, and-  Oh, that felt nice.Flint settled down as Magnus had reached up a leather-gloved hand to scratch an itch xe'd been unable to reach.  Xe coo a bit in bliss, kicking a hind leg like a dog.  When the moment passed, xe opened xir eyes to see the Forest Fool standing on the speaker's podium and staring up at the elders.

"Uh.  You wanted to see me?" the human asked, twisting the cuffs of his shirt sleeves between his fingers.  Why's he nervous?  

"Yes, Luka-" weird name "-We wanted to speak with you.  That magic of yours."

Flint slid down the back of Magnus' chair to peek at Luka from in front of Adoni.  Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments, and to his credit he didn't break the contact first.  He's no chicken.  That or he's got a silly fear response.

"Ah, yeah.  I'm... not in trouble, am I?"

"What trouble could you be in, boy?" Persimmon asked laughingly.  "While it's not recommended, there aren't any laws against going into the woods!"

"I mean... All five elders gathered to see me.  A-about my magic.  And it's fire magic I keep taking into the woods."Flint tilts xir head to the side.  What does that all have to do with anything?  "And what," Magnus began, audibly amused, "makes you think fire is just automatically bad to bring into the woods?"

"Becauseee it's fire?  Around a bunch of trees?"  Oh!  Flint giggled at that.  This human was a funny one.  The forest loved fire.  It could be as cleansing as a summer rain.  Luka locked eyes with the fire spirit again, more purposefully this time.  "I don't want to be a danger, if that's what you're worried about."

Sherub tutted at that, shaking their head with a few light jingles.  "It's only dangerous if you remain unpracticed or use it too much.  What we were hoping to discuss was if you were open to one of us helping you to find a teacher and gain a finer control of this skill of yours."

Luka's jaw dropped at that, showing off some impressively-sized canines that Flint was a teeny bit jealous of.  "Burrrn!" they crooned encouragingly.  Why did he shiver like that?

"I... wouldn't mind adding some magic training to my lesson rotation.  The Queen has mentioned looking for a magic mentor for me also.  I imagine it's difficult to find someone."

Gavelle's chair creaked as they leaned forward in their chair.  "How much practice do you have?" the town baker and sweets-maker probed with interest.  The man on the lower podium looked a bit pensive as he held out his hand.  Sweat beaded on his brow - goodness, the way he was pulling magic was so inefficient - and little blue flames licked across the tips of his fingers like a dying candle. Oh, oh!  It was blue fire!  Xe rarely saw it anymore, it took so much energy for it to burn hot enough to reach that color, and in xir excitement xe practically leaped off the elder's dias to the surprised shouts of many, and xe bounded towards Luka to get a closer look.  He yelped in surprise as he was toppled over, and while the tenuous fire had gone out, his hand was still hot from it as Flint discovered when xe shoved xir face into his previously ignited hand.

"The fire!  So hot and blue!" Flint complimented him as the hand pulled back and xe retreated some.  "One day, it could burn the oldest of trees down so brightly!"

"Flint, give the poor thing some space," Adoni scolded.  "He's never met a fire spirit before, and you've probably gone and scared him."  With a whine, xe reluctantly backed off and pouted.  Xe give a little, flaring twirl and settled back in front of the dais, watching the human as he resituated himself while the stone beneath xer warmed.  "Uh.  Thank you... Flint?" Luka stated nonetheless, and xe thumped xir tail against the ground gleefully.  At last, a human that could appreciate the brilliance of burning out like a star!  "Are... are you all sure you're alright with me bringing fire into the forest?""Tell me, boy, do you know what fire does for the woods?" Magnus asked.  Flint heard the creaking of them lounging to the side in their chair.

"It... burns the plants.  And chases away or kills the animals." Luka responded, sounding unsure.

"That isn't incorrect.  But it's not all it does. You know what, come, if this is going to be a long conversation, you may as well get to sit down, let's all go to the conference room.  There's a lot to talk about if you're going to insist on wandering the woods."

The elders muttered between each other as they all began getting up and bustling, and Flint popped up to wind between them curiously as the procession moved to the back of the building where the counsel room lived.  This almost never happened!  Usually only when a new elder was joining the team!  Xe gave a little spin around Luka's long legged walk, flaring xir light to communicate xir excitement.  He probably wouldn't understand, but xe hoped he at least got it.  

Xe hopped onto the table and plopped xerself down into the brazier in the middle of the large stone conference table, nearly vibrating.  This was so exciting!  No one was hired on as an elder at his age, and he was probably too young to even qualify, but he must be someone important to be brought back here.  Xe cast xir light across the room, hoping to be helpful, and Gavelle gently tossed some dried herbs from Persimmon's bag xir way.  Xe snapped the kindling out of the air and cooed in delight.

"I've never seen Flint this energetic before..." Gavalle mused, getting Adoni to chuckle fondly.  

"I have.  Last time the Queen came to town to speak with the elders was when I was newly brought on, decades ago and right after a massive blizzard that hit the forest hard.""Yes!  Yes!  So cold!" Flint chirped in agreement.

"So xe must be excited to see a new face back here again." Sherub hummed thoughtfully.  Magnus reached over with their gloved hand and scratched between xir ears.  Xir light flared happily.

"He's not joining us you silly goose-"

"Nnnot a goose!"

"- So stop acting like he is and warming up this room like it's winter!"  Reluctantly, xe settled down. 

"What... is a fire spirit doing in here, if I may ask?" Luka asked as Sherub pulled a chair over for him and jingling quietly in the process.

"Xe likes to steal all of our paper," Persimmon deadpanned, and Flint snuffled in mock offense.

"Xe're one of the ambassadors the woods will send us occasionally, to ensure we're up to date on the rules of respect," Gavelle explained.  "I was rather confused when I first met xer, too."

"Your little mushroom stunt has made you the talk of the town with the spirits too, you know." Magnus explained.  Oh, did he know?  None of the spirits gossiped around him.  "They're unsure if you can be trusted, even if you may have good intentions."

Luka got a weird upset look on his face as he looked away from everyone.  Was something wrong?

"But.  If Flint gives xir vote of confidence, you won't be so persistently haunted among the trees.  Despite my personal misgivings about you, the forest does seem to like you.  I could never figure why, until I saw your fire magic.  That may be the key."

Flint cooed in agreement.  Yes, that blue fire of his was wonderful, and xe couldn't wait to see it flourish.  "... Why?" Luka asked after a long moment, looking so very lost as he turned back to Magnus.  "Why would it like my fire?"

"A cleansing deathhh!" Flint reassured, watching Luka shiver again.  Was he cold?

"As... enthusiastic as Flint is, xe're right.  When a fire starts in a forest, it does a lot of good."

"What good does it do?"

Magnus grinned toothily behind their woodworking mask.  "Well, to start with, usually all the dry stuff goes up first.  Dead plants, sick plants, rot, parasites and pests, all into flames first.  And a lot of plants are otherwise resistant, so they take much less damage in the fires as the clog is cleared up, and some can't even seed without the high temperatures."  They passionately jab a finger into the table to make a point.  

"Animals all over know when to run.  They flee for greener pastures where things are fresher and newer to feast on.  Other creatures can be attracted to the heat and flock in, bringing back wildlife when the fires have passed.  And when all is said and done?  The burrowing creatures mix the resulting ash and soil together, leaving fertile ground for new, healthy plants to grow in and the surviving plants to grow stronger and more resistant."  

They swept their arms in the general direction of Flint.  "Even the spirits benefit from this cycle.  As fire spirits grow older, they accumulate more and more magic like cattails, and they get to a point where they unintentionally construct barriers in the forest to try and prevent more intake by shedding excess magic.  During wildfires, most fire spirits will die in their own self-propelled pyres, dispelling magic back across the forest in the smoke.  These hot, cleansing fires leave room for new fire spirits to be born and start the process of filtering magic again, and there's enough magic to give unrested Dwellers peace and bring them to the Horizon.  The world is made up of cycles, and stasis is a one-way trip to rot and decay."

"To die is to live!" Flint contributed.  "And to live is to die!"

Some abstract doodling was tossed into the brazier by Sherub, and Flint snuffled at it before snacking.

"I..."  Luka looked even more lost than ever, having stared blankly at Magnus the entire ramble.  "... Oh."

"I think you broke him, Maggie." Persimmon muttered before reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.  "Magnus is just passionate about this, dear, I know it's a lot."

"And it... makes sense." Luka nodded.  "I hadn't really considered the ways fire might be helpful in the wild, but.  I'm always learning?"

"That's the spirit, lad!" Gavelle chirped, and Flint snickered.  Xe loved wordplay like that.  Luka smiled a bit too at the joke.

"And now that you know the importance of a controlled burn, we can work to get your magic finer control." Adoni prescribed.  "Magic users aren't common, though there are some that picked it up through study alone.  You merely got a head start with a predisposition for it, and fire won't be the only boat you'll show as you learn."

"Really? I thought that... Well, you're just born with it.  And you can do the one thing you get.  I guess that doesn't make sense, does it?..."

"Everyone does," Sherub shook their head.  "It's what the stories all say.  But we often work with magic users, enough that we know a little more than average."

"I have a lot to learn, then," Luka commented.

"And you'll get learning if you know what's good for you!" Magnus poked playfully.  Flint snickered and gave a great stretch before walking to sit in front of Luka. 

The two stared at one another for several moments.

"Your spark is bright." Flint crooned assuringly.  "Feed it with kindling, and you will burn.  Whether with smoke or the brightest of lights.  And others will dance in delight with the show you put on.  I trust you will burn bright with passion."

Luka actually looked a bit scared by that until Persimmon clapped him on the shoulder, who had walked around the table to comfort him.  "Xe thinks you'll do great things, Luka," they translated.  "And I'm inclined to agree."

Luka looked back to Flint sheepishly.  "Ah.  Thank you.  Sorry for, uh...  Being spooked by your compliment."

Xe trilled in amusement.  He was correct to be afraid.  "Do not apologize.  It is wise to fear that which can burn."

The man nodded, looking thoughtful.  "Then, just a simple thanks.  I hope my light burns as bright as you wish it to."

He understood!  Xe gives a little twirl of delight.

"I do think that's Flint's resounding endorsement," Magnus grinned.

◇|||◇

Vanessa tended to absolutely hate her tutors.  She'd been through seven now and the most recent, Mr. Bridgerton, had been stuck sporting a rather nasty freezer burn scar through no fault of hers at all.  She would, of course, deny any accusations that may be lobbied her way.

Her new teacher was a bit of a literal odd bird, a Mr. Redwall who was a Debirdi Desert Owl whom had clipped his snow-white feathers into neat, hedgehog-point pins that made him look intimidatingly sharp around the edges.  His eyes were cleared to look around with sharp blue eyes and Vanessa got the impression he was glaring at everything.  Being a desert owl, he was quite the rarity in Subcon, but with how close it was to the capital, it made sense she'd see one or two in her life.  His name had praises sung of it in certain circles as a robust and knowledgeable magician from a respected clade of storytellers.

He had been rambling almost boredly about strings and colors since he introduced himself as her new tutor.  Vanessa had no real context on why, exactly, so she'd paid only half the attention she probably should have.

"Now," Redwall capped off the lecture, "Did you get all of that, Your Highness?"

Vanessa couldn't help but wince, and his crisp blue eyes bored into her almost judgementally. "I presume not?" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his large, toothy beak.  "Tell me where I'd lost you."

"Um," she sheepishly started, "The start.  With the strings and colors and... I don't see how they're related."

His expression turned to one of gobsmacked shock.  "You don't know about thread magic?!" he asked in what approached horror.  "It is the basis of all magical implementation, how could such a critical learning base get neglected?!"

"Mother figured me 'too good for the common stuff', she's said." Vanessa admitted quietly.  Redwall let out what could only be described as a jagged sigh.  

"So help me stars, lest I murder a bitch, thank you for letting me know.  Now I see why other tutors regarded you as a... problem student."

Vanessa's lips twitched, threatening to grimace.

"No matter, however.  I can amend things by starting from square one for you.  We can play high speed catchup until you're at where you should be for an understanding at your current age."

She flushed as he dug into the closet of the small library offshoot room of the castle, pulling out a box of colored chalk and taking to the chalkboard at the head of the room with frenetic abandon.

"Now, magic -" he began as he nearly juggled the sticks of chalk as he rapidly switched between the colored pieces. "- at its most basic can be dictated by color, most often seen in thread magic that forms the understanding we have of magic today.  By no means is it the only means of channeling it, but it's the most robust and easy-to-understand means of channeling it, especially for those born with magic and little to no training on actual use compared to common conceal-don't-feel attempts to simply hope it goes away."

He pointed a sky blue piece of chalk at Vanessa.  "Tactics like those can get you Blue Ribbon Mary situations, where it bottles up so much it practically explodes and the user inflicts a lot of damage to themself and others.  And a blast that powerful, after decades?  Destructive.  Potentially city-levelling.  Practically guarantees that the user becomes a corrupted husk of themselves."

Vanessa shuddered, wringing her skirt in her hands.  She knew she shouldn't, but that sounded horrifying.

"In Subcon especially, magic capital of the world with that forest down south, magic users need to be properly taught regulation and control."

He pulled something soft out of his pocket, which expanded with a small puff of clouds and whapped a lecturer's pointer at the now-filled chalkboard.  "Intent may be important in specific interpretations, but the most important aspect of a channel of magic will be its color.  Colors can have many meanings to them, for example red can be passion, love, and vitality, or violence, blood, and anger.  It's important to ensure these colors are paired with another to make intent clearer.  Metallic coloration can be a bit tricky, but it can ultimately be a means of bolstering the power of a basic single color."

Vanessa scrabbled to take notes, belatedly realizing this had turned into an actual lecture somewhere along the line.  Redwall tapped across the board to some diagrams of odd braids.  "Density of the material or other aspects of the channeling medium are also crucial in dictating the power of a spell.  A single thread is weak, but can be used to create intricate and incredibly dense spellwork.  Ropes are extremely thick but time-consuming to enchant due to how much is there from the braided strands and can be limiting on available colors.  Yarn and embroidery thread are loose and light, best used for trinkets and lightly enchanted gifts one hands their loved ones."  The tip navigated between each example.  "But using fabric bases isn't the only way to channel magic.  Subcon metalworkers and the Twilight Ridge valley-dwellers have both independently figured out how to use engravings in metal bells to use the vibrations of ringing it to enact spell fields, both of which are rumored to calm or communicate with the dead."

Vanessa realized she recognized seeing that last one at the festival with Luka.

"And some casters claim to use their own bodies as channels, using their own veins as the strands by which their power flows.  More commonly than not, casters like these are healers or exceptional at enchanted threadwork."

"Why would you use your blood to cast spells?" Vanessa asked, scrunching up her nose in distaste.

"Some rumors are it's as valuable as a soul for spellwork.  Others say it's the iron in it.  Whatever case is true, even a single drop can greatly enhance a spell if deliberately introduced and properly worked in.  It makes spells a bit more personal, and attuned to the magic of the caster better." Redwall explained.  "It's a matter of practicality."

Vanessa nodded slowly, mind mulling that fact over slowly.

"And those born without magic can use their blood as a means of powering their magic.  Since it's not innate to them, they require a focus of sorts to channel it from their environment." Redwall concluded.  "That's about the summation of it.  Any questions?"

"What... does it feel like?" she asked airily.  Redwall's eyes glittered as he procured a spool of thread from his pocket.

"Would you like to see for yourself?  It's not uncommon for magicians to carry pre-enchanted spools of thread like this on their person to save the time and energy for when they need to cast."  He unspooled a length of the thread and handed it off to Vanessa, whose fingers tingled from holding the thin vein of color.  She couldn't restrain her open wonder at the real magic she was holding.

"Now, what is associated with the color of that thread?" the tutor guided gently.

"Um.  The sea and sky, water in general, uh..." She wracked her brain for her literature symbolism lessons.  "Safety.  Freedom.  Peace and tranquility?  And ice."

"Good.  Now close your eyes and tell me what the thread says it wants to be.  The magic will call to you."

She did as ordered and sought out the tingling sensation at her fingertips, feeling a little silly.

Even so, she felt a faint wash of calm and safety radiate from the wan slice of skylight.

"Calm.  And safety." she found herself mumbling as she opened her eyes.  Mr. Redwall was smiling at her with an expression she couldn't place.

"Good.  Very, very good.  you're a natural, Vanessa."

◇|||◇

Luka, evidently, did not like being the one led into the forest rather than the reverse, if him having to bite back actual feral ire at the elder guiding him was any indication.  Magnus had taken the reins earlier that day with no warning, having grabbed Luka by the arm in the middle of breakfast with his father and barely let the redhead bid his father farewell over his shoulder.

The path that Magnus took through the woods seemed random to Luka, erratic and disjointed compared to Luka's controlled and cautious meandering.  Luka considered the paths he trod along a dance with danger, but Magnus' internal map seemed to play more like a dangerous game of hopscotch with bear traps and the lines hidden beneath centuries of mire and undergrowth.  Luka just barely excelled where it mattered, and it only just occurred to him that he didn't really know the forest as well as he thought he did.  After all, they were taking a slapdash, sprinting path across the thick-skinned surface of the swamp, which he'd never approached before.

Honestly, he could scarcely believe that the mostly-serious Magnus was taking him across the surface of the swamp by just running across like some kind of story character, and moreso that it actually worked .  Each sprint was short, moving too fast for the thick mud to cling to their feet and punctuated with brief stops at tree roots breaching the surface of the alleged water like lifelines they could momentarily rest at.  

Part of Luka was a little mad he hadn't even considered it, but then again, why would he?  He didn't have a death wish.  He preferred to play it safe, considering the reputation of the forest, and avoided the swamp altogether.

Now, though, he wondered if that aversion was by design, somehow, as beyond the clinging murk of the bog and humidity in the air, there was a rising dryness in the heat as the forest's air began to shimmer and taste ever so faintly of woodsmoke with an undercurrent of something floral.  Was that incense?

The greenery began to thin into brittle browns, and Magnus paused at the edge of a clearing Luka couldn't help but stare at.

It was the overgrown ruins of some kind of village inside some kind of collapsed circle of stone, the architecture older than Luka had ever seen before.  The majority of the plants here were the blackened vines of roses whose petals flickered affectionately with bright orange and gold fire, as if their smoldering embrace were a mercy to the grave of buildings.  They almost looked like the vines slowly smothering the giant tree at the heart of the woods, he realized, with leaves that were an oily black that reminded him of raven feathers.

That reminded him of the soot his fire left behind.

The wave of familiarity had Luka's gaze searching the clearing in dazed awe like watching a pool at low tide.  He stared openly at the Dwellers with and without colorful masks indicating faces and lack thereof that seemed so much sadder than he imagined them looking, winding through the air like lazy windsocks and poking in and out of various nooks and hollows and crannies like curious fish, at the fire spirits of varying sizes, ages, colors, dancing around the flames and seemingly tending to the roses, crooning at each other in their own language that sounded of the snapping of burning logs and the ringing of bells, seeming to simply exist peacefully.

With a start, Luka realized that he'd met the gaze of a fire spirit he recognized, Flint, and dazedly waved hello.  The spirit paused what xe were doing and waved back, smiling with an almost hungry glimmer to xer face before going right back to what xe were doing.

He was sharply dragged back before he belatedly realized he was about to grasp at one of the burning roses, and Magnus gave him a sharp look of warning.  His throat closed up before he could respond, and Magnus' expression softened just a bit.  "You feel right at home here, don't you?" they asked him gently, and he didn't even know how to respond to that.  Was it feeling at home when being here quieted a part of his soul?  To feel more like himself here more than anywhere else in the world?

Perhaps.

After all, it beckoned him, called to him.  Some part of him he'd never really known about before had been looking for this place in all of his wandering.

It was a resplendent part of the wood.  It might have been horrifying to some, or disquieting, but for him?  He simply belonged.

Or maybe the forest was simply staking its claim on him.

"I advise against trying to pluck a rose.  That's how you become nothing more than a bedtime story," Magnus warned, expression hardening against Luka's plaintive stare.  "No matter how much of a claim it has over you."

Luka couldn't find the words to respond, so he simply looked away and found himself staring at a Dweller wearing a mask with a mournful expression.  Magnus sighed at him.  "We're going to be late. you know."

That got Luka's attention.  "For what?" he asked, voice hoarsened by the dry air as he turned to look at the Elder.  "You haven't told me jack about why you dragged me out here."

Magnus tutted at him.  "Follow me, then.  Pyret's waiting on us."

"Wait, who? " Luka spluttered.  "Is that a fire spirit?  The mayor of this, uh, spirit village?  Do spirits even have mayors?"

Magnus' laugh is hollow and does not reassure Luka.  "You'll see, now hurry up.  He's been excited to meet you."

The temperature slowly dropped as Magnus led the way out of the flaming village and the density of fire spirits slowly dropped, though the Dwellers still seemed to linger.  Luka could swear some were following them, almost looking curious were it not for their static masks.  Curiosity dogged the back of his mind as a second set of ruins, still overgrown with those rose bushes but bearing no blooms, approached - or rather, they approached the ruins .  Magnus dragged-slash-pushed Luka past the majority of them until they stopped at one that was surprisingly reconstructed in part.  Luka eyed it warily, noting the signs of actually being lived-in .  Spirits really didn't have a reason to live in a house, did they?  Unless they were a special spirit or something.

While Luka considered the building, Magnus finally let Luka go to rap their knuckles sharply against a doorframe haphazardly covered with some kind of hand-woven cloth.  After a few moments of shuffling, the curtain drew to the side and revealed something Luka had not expected whatsoever.

That was a human man living in the woods.  He looked frail and potbellied, an older man with frazzled hair shot white that reminded Luka of his father.  The hair was long enough to completely cover his eyes, and a thick beard and mustache hid his mouth, leaving the nose the only feature on his face visible past the cloud of frizz.  The older man was draped in more hand-woven cloth, fashioned roughly into some semblance of clothing, crafted of the vines of the flaming roses with all the thorns apparently hacked off.

The feral-looking human man brushed his hair aside enough to expose one big, blue eye that peered at Luka and Magnus curiously.  "It's the Gardener!" he cheers with a toothy grin, his voice low and nasal.  "And the heretic!"

Magnus sighs through their nose at that.  "Luka's here to learn to be better.  And the forest already staked its claim on him, so he's hardly a stranger to it at this point, even if he is an idiot.  Cut him some slack, Pyret."  

Luka felt distinctly slighted at that, but he bit back his gut reaction to protest.

Pyret - the man that Magnus was evidently taking Luka to meet - eyed the younger man again.  Luka met his gaze right back, standing tall regardless of any attempts at intimidation that might be getting missed - to be fair, it was hard to not stand tall with his height.  Pyret grinned after a few moments of tense silence.

"Just one of the forest's youngsters, then." he concedes, letting his hair fall back in front of his eyes, and Luka wasn't able to stop himself in time to sense the impulse.

"If I'm a youngster, does that make you the forest's oldster? "

Magnus bristled at Luka's sharp tongue, but Pyret simply laughed at that.  "You're a fiery one, I'll give you that!  You're the magician Flint met, yeah?"

Magnus spluttered in disbelief.  "You're just gonna brush that off?  Sir, you're a respected magician of the forest , and he just-"

"Ap-ap-ap!" Pyret interrupts Magnus, putting a finger to their mask despite it doing nothing.  "This kid's got some real spirit to him.  A quick wit's gonna get him real far, 'specially here."  and his head swivels back to Luka.  "I recommend being careful with that, though.  If you get your head lopped off from you mouthing off a random queen, it's your own fault."

Luka shrugs.  "Mouthing off royalty's getting me married to a future queen, so honestly I'd beg to differ."

That got Luka another belly laugh from Pyret, and Magnus groaned exasperatedly.  "Sir, with all due respect, we aren't here to talk about Luka's... sense of humor .  We were here to formally request your help in teaching Luka how to properly control his magic." Magnus pleaded with the apparent magician.

"I did agree to that, didn't I?" Pyret mused like an absentminded grandfather.  He slapped himself in the face after a moment.  "Of course I did!  Can't believe I let that slip my mind!  Luka, c'mere."

Luka hesitantly approached, only to get grabbed by Pyret around the wrists, raising his hands.  "Lemme see that fire'a yours, youngster."

Luka blanched a bit, feeling like he was giving a presentation he'd forgotten to prepare in school, but bit down the sudden panic, and tried to dig into the heart of the feeling to try forcing it outwards into the world.  Sweat beaded along his brow, and flames began to sluggishly lap their way up his trembling fingers like droplets of beading blood.

"Okay, kid, you can stop," the older man's voice commanded, and Luka couldn't help but sigh in relief as he released the tension he forced his body into as he abruptly dropped his focus.  "It's impressive that you already know how to rely on your internal reserves for magic use, but defaulting to that is gonna give you a hernia every time you try." the older man explained, all goofy nonchalance suddenly turning to genuine concern.  "It's going to hurt you if you don't slowly build up your capacity by using the magic around you as a supplement or replacement."

With no warning, Luka's wrists were yanked, and he was stumbling behind Pyret as the older man yanked him along like an oversized ragdoll.  Luka wanted to pull away, but he was overbalanced and didn't want to push his luck.  And... he wanted to know what the older man meant.  Magnus didn't tail them, which Luka was more than fine with as the Elder could be intimidating.  

They crossed into a section of the forest that was permanently enshrouded in twilight with motes of light lazily drifting around.  There was something in the air here that smelled distinctly different from the rest of the forest, but Luka couldn't quite place what it was about it.

"Y'feel that, son?" Pyret grinned.  "That's magic ."

"It's more like it smells different." Luka corrects.  "Or tastes different.  Something like that."

Pyret chuckles at him.  "Sometimes it's sensed differently by different magicians.  What's it taste like?"

Luka took a moment to assess the subtle change in the back of his throat.  "It's like... an aftertaste.  Like humidity but less wet, if that makes sense.  Like it's... more .  I dunno." Luka huffed at his inability to find his words, but Pyret nodded along as if he understood.

"I want you to try finding that taste of more whenever you try to use magic and, instead of reaching in, reach out instead." he instructed.  He released Luka and stood back a bit.  "Go ahead and give it a shot."

Luka furrowed his brows at that, but still closed his eyes and focused on the smell in the back of his throat, a smell that felt oddly familiar to him.  He didn't entirely know what exactly to do to reach out, so he simply let the feeling wash over him.  It was rejuvenating, soul-filling.  In a half-thoughtful daze, he opened his eyes and raised a hand with the palm facing up, letting it hang limply.  He took a sharp breath in, and with a sudden tensing and curling of his hand, flames sparked along his fingers and bloomed into a healthy, crackling blue flame that completely covered his hand.  Somehow, deep in whatever trance possessed him, he didn't feel any pride or accomplishment or even wonder.  Just a slow, creeping, blank smirk as he flexed his hand in curiosity.

It truly was a beautiful sight, wasn't it?

Chapter Text

Hey everyone, i have an announcement about this fic that i hope isnt a terrible one.

I've always had trouble writing for this story, no matter how much i wanted to, and that's left long, LONG gaps betweem chapters that would make many think its been abandoned. I promise you, it's NOT. I love this story and this world so much that my plans for it are bigger than you may initially assume.

I'm just not happy with the writing in this story anymore and have thought of ways to restructure it that will make the story easier for me to tell and my prose that much more vibrant. I've decided I want to rewrite this fic, in a way that won't accidentally filibuster any attempt to continue it like this version.

The only question in the end is whether you would want the chapters to get replaced with the new versions, or if you'd like the new version in a new fic to preserve this one. I think I may go for the latter unless you all would prefer the former.

Thank you all so much for reading this far, though. I'll be sure to series this fic to connect it to the new version.

Happy reading! I'll see you soon in the new version.

~Lairde Lampblack