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The thread of life connected to his own fingertips, fate of hundreds to the palm of his hands and as fragile as the perennial evening wind. He never understood why such a heavy burden was placed on his flimsy shoulders; his body so worn and exhausted from so many years of serving as a repository of souls.
Shu knew, better than anyone else, how the flow of his purple flames could cause disaster and destruction. How his own existence fed millions of lives like green fields. And in him flourished the deepest fear of dying, of abandoning his hardest work.
From a distance, he watched him. As the faint light that slipped through the opaque curtains adorned his raven hair as he performed the steps of a dance he alone knew. The flames of cold hues swirled over his fingers until they reached his back, his hands caressing the deepest darkness.
A being loved by mana, an immortal who had been described as a legend from generation to generation. The magic of the runes written under his feet was the proof of it; he was the pinnacle of all sorcerers, who knew everything and at the same time nothing.
They both learned how everyone in the Diamond City worshipped him as a protective angel, who would save them from even the worst catastrophe. How everyone had built the tidiest of temples in the name of a legend, in the name of a supposed sorcerer who had brought back to life deceased relatives.
But the truth could not be covered with the tip of a finger.
As in the corners of his eyes pearly drops accumulated as a result of the longing to also be flesh and blood, to also be able to harbor such a wide range of emotions. To be able to grow old with his loved ones.
The story was told of an all-powerful man, bordering on a god, who felt empathy for a humble village, now developed into a city, which one day had ceased to exist. That this sorcerer used the most ancient of magics to bring back, among the roots of the Tree of Life, the laughter of the little children of the place along with their families.
At that moment day met night and his life was caught up in a maelstrom of sensations he had never experienced before, as a young apprentice. And although that was not entirely true, his clan decided to give him the ability to change the flow of time, to create new lives and end them at his pleasure.
Luca wondered, a million times, why Shu looked like a bird locked in a cage. His wings reduced to ashes to prevent his escape from a world that had unconsciously neglected him.
He knew very well how he suffered in silence more than anyone else, his limbs covered in extensive burns impregnated with magic. His figure seemed to fade with the dawn, the stream of his unique flames distorting until they were hidden in the smoke of incense.
"Luca" called in a timbre as frail as birdsong at midnight, violet eyes reflecting the deepest fatigue. Pale complexion touched the cold wooden floor, bathed in residue of spells and candle wax.
He was no stranger to this scenario; slender fingers on his arms grasping him with barely any strength, begging for his warmth to remain with him. Though they both knew their worlds were very different, how in one fairies danced on flower petals, and how in the other a crimson rain painted the desolate night streets.
But this looked different. Under his ribcage hid the greatest anguish, and he was unable to describe the pain that the scenario in front of him caused him.
Luca let out a sigh, a lingering, melancholy one.
They both knew, Shu could not be bound. And he would leave when the time came, he would travel like the legend in his name, he would travel by word of mouth, mentioned between generations. Because Shu is like a kite made of crisp, brittle paper, that no matter how tightly the string is grasped, it belongs only to the wind currents that lift it into the clouds.
And Luca catches himself thinking that he doesn't want to share Shu with that world beyond his own arms, but if Shu is happy among the wind currents of that wide world, then Luca will certainly let him go. For he would never force him to carry that endless weight, the weight that drained him every day.
Suddenly Shu leans closer, blinking slowly, expectant of something. And Luca is covered by the smell of vanilla and sweet caramel, of sour sadness and the calls of countless spirits still hiding among the damp wooden corners.
Their gazes intertwined, closely, connecting as if by magic. And they both knew what was going through the other's mind.
Shu's hands slid down to Luca's torso, embracing him and thus using him to crawl up to him. Finally finding themselves face to face, chest to chest just inches from each other.
And the sorcerer looks infinitely happy, for a second, to be alive; to experience love once again, because he wishes he could act like flesh and blood. And the one who accompanied him during his exhaustive journey through millions of years, through thousands of names and short lives, although he does not remember it, is in front of him.
He does not hesitate, opening his lips, "Thank you." he intoned, his throat shredded after relentlessly reciting the words etched in dusty grimoires. "I am fortunate. Lucky to have met you once again."
The fine fabrics adorned in the most intricate patterns gradually lose their color, mana abandoning the pieces like bees in search of pollen. And finally he allowed himself to sketch a smile, as wide as the bright sunrise, open, with a streak of teeth showing, full of velvety affection and the most genuine love.
But a shallow, prickling, anticipatory shiver still runs through him and flows through his muscles and bones toward Luca. Faint bluish flames break from his fingers, and through the golden hair they flee, leaving the sorcerer's frail body.
Luca shuddered and clutched Shu tighter. He felt the pulse of his frantic heart through the tightness in his chest, rushing through his throat.
And because of Luca's face, Shu laughs softly, and that laughter spread in all directions, painting the dark corners of the cold room with a faint warmth and making Luca's lips home with the merciful rain that passed over the wasteland.
And the wasteland sprouts a lush green again.
And the old bond they shared, weakened by days, as a consequence of their conflicting worlds, into fine webbing, grew stronger. Luca licked his lips, memorizing the taste: sweet, salty, with a hint of spice. And Shu looks at him again, and his gaze darkens, something hungry and greedy befitting a rebellious angel swirls and shimmers in the dense purple depths beneath long lashes.
Luca swallowed saliva. He tingled and writhed inside, and his face and neck burned treacherously with crimson blotches of blush.
They both wanted to pull away, to run away from this connection like a growing wildfire... but Shu, clingy, seductive with his smiles and caresses, held firm. And he never doubted that he would welcome him with open arms, even if his hellish cage seemed unbreakable.
And coming close to his ear, he whispers:
"Watch over me. Watch over me during this new path, as you did in previous lives."
In his words rest the thwarted desires of millions of lifetimes and a sharp impatience, unleashed in a happy echo of his favorite name growing at the corners of Shu's mouth like ivy. Those violet flames rising from his back grew until they brushed the ceiling and in a matter of seconds vanished once again in magical smoke.
Luca wrapped his palms around the being's face, "I will."
And that day a fallen angel was born, reborn in the body of a simple man devoid of magic, resting peacefully on the body of the human he always loved. Who was able to show him the light beyond the traces that slipped through the opaque curtains he imposed on himself.