Chapter Text
Lux quietly drew his blade, his gaze sharp as he was dragged toward the dim hall.
Mercedes and Melchior only let go of his garments when they reached the top of the stairs.
The Hall was quiet, consumed with darkness. The floor and walls are frigid stone, and the air smells of ash.
This wing had long since been abandoned. From what Lux had heard in his short time here, it seemed to hold an eerie, haunting presence. Well, that's what the maids had been gossiping about.
The thought sent a sharp shiver up his spine.
The two dogs had disappeared from sight, leaving Lux to piece together what happened.
His gaze landed on the door ahead, left slightly ajar.
As he approaches the tall door, Lux feels the cold air of the hall tickle against his skin.
He summoned a soft glow of magic into his palm as he slowly stepped into the cold room.
He sucked in a breath, cursing himself for being so stupid.
Lux grasped his dagger in one hand as he slowly kept into the room with a heightened sense of urgency.
The magic in his unoccupied palm had shrunk to a fluttering glow as he steps through the doorway.
Compared to the hall, it was warm inside. The scent of char and aged wine lingered in the air, causing a small huff to leave his lips. Yet, the air had a strong, peppery taste.
A heavily canopied bed stretches midway across the room. Lux can't help but gasp at the sight. It was black, left with nothing but charred and flakey remains.
He suddenly felt sick to his stomach.
Something felt amiss.
Lux’ eyes narrowed as he sucked in a breath and kept going, slowly passing by an extravagant suit of armour. He glanced over at the marble writing desk, with a white peacock feather pen. All of it was blanketed in ash.
Despite almost being charred to nothing, the room was suspiciously intact. Untouched.
Lux felt his gaze being pulled over to a painting… twice the size of him, suspended on the wall.
Lux reached forward, the light trickling over his fingertips and stretching up the canvas. Though it's hard to see, Lux had no doubts about the painting's subject.
Count Lucio.
Despite never seeing the man before, Lux felt a strange sense of familiarity of the features of the man.
Those blue, striking eyes..
Where has he seen this..?
…
He looked young in this painting, or perhaps, it's just old.
He felt himself entranced in the well used colors in the art.
That red… it was that same cardinal hue used in the painting in the dining room.
The same one Lux had found himself lost in.
Lux was spellbound by the craftsmanship, unable to discern any flaw.
The gleam of the golden arm, painted with painstaking detail, sent a shiver down his spine—a compulsion to touch it.
“ Go on, Touch it. ”
A miasma of thick, scorching air pushes his hand towards the divine portrait.
He felt nothing.
Nothing but ash, and the texture of the canvas.
There is a snickering inside Lux’ head, a fuzzy haze settled over his mind. He stumbled back with a gasp, dropping the blade in his hand and he clutched his chest with his hand.
“ Nothing like the real thing … seeing, unable to feel .. ”
“ Such sweet torture. ”
A balmy warmth, like an ember, radiates at the back of Lux’ neck, tickling the dark hairs that stretched up his skull.
The violet hue of magic in his palm reacts to the sudden interference, its radiating glow stretching past his fingers and down his wrist.
“ Ahh… ”
The strange sensations subside, leaving Lux surprisingly empty.
The voice begins to grow fainter, almost wistful.
“ In your energy.. It almost feels like .. ”
There was a period of eerie, painful silence.
“ Could you be..?”
The voice whispers one last time, fading away and leaving Lux alone in the dark, now freezing room.
The haze vanishes, leaving Lux disoriented and he falls back onto the floor. He gasped for air, but it felt like too much, yet too little.
He reels back from the portrait, scooting back until he feels his back hit the hard bed frame.
As the old thing was jostled by the weight of Lux’, a cloud of black char rose from the mattress.
That bed.
The very bed the King had been murdered. Incinerated.
Lux holds back a cry as he pulls himself up, trying to brush away the char in the air away from his face.
“ Going so soon? But it's been so long.. ”
The voice echoes through every corner of the room, and throughout Lux’ very soul. It was taunting him.
“Who– are you?!” Lux’ manages to spit out. He tries to contain his composure, Asra’s words echoing in the back of his mind.
‘ You cower before nothing. Make me proud. ’
Lux drew in a breath, his gaze hardening.
The room suddenly drops to a low, freezing temperature. Lux’ heavy breaths now turned into fine mist.
Lux’ sharp focus was broken by the sound of a piercing whimper, unlike anything human. Then, followed by shuffling in the ash.
“ Nobody.. Nobody at all.. ”
An unseen breeze tickles Lux’ side, brushing past him and the trim of the canopy.
…Towards the portrait.
“ Now this specimen of a man… ”
Lux held his breath, his gaze finding his lost dagger on the ground. He felt the need to arm himself again.
“ HE was somebody. ”
As the voice trails off, and Lux was about to make a move for his weapon.. The room begins to feel normal once again.
Lux decides, Fuck it.
Without a second glance, Lux makes a run for the door.
He doesn't stop his sprint as he makes it out of the room, searching through the vague darkness for a way out.
Lux felt his throat tighten, his breaths coming out short. It was as if the walls were closing in on him, the eyes of every portrait watching with cold, demeaning eyes.
“ Come back… Come back… ”
Lux felt himself fall still. And against all good sense and reasoning, he turns back slowly.
He only sees it for a moment.
But that split second, would haunt him.
He sees a silhouette.
Stark against the wall of high
windows, frosted over with smoke.
Claws.
Horns.
And hooves.
Its shaggy fur is old and matted looking.
Lux felt his heart stop for a good moment.
That face. The white face of a goat, with red eyes fixated on him. Its eyes were filled with a taunting glee, almost as if it were amused by Lux’ very being.
Lux stares, but in the next moment.. as soon as he blinks. It disappears.
Without much hesitation, Lux went back clambering down the stairs.. His very being shook by the fear radiating through his body.
He always tried his best to be strong, he did. But in this moment, nothing but dread and a strange sense of nostalgia.
He doesn't stop running until he bumps into a worried Portia.
“Lux?” Portia asks worriedly. He notices the fine, ashy substance clinging to Lux’ clothes.
“Are- Are you okay?! What did those naughty dogs do this time?” She inquires as she pulls out a white handkerchief for the taller man.
Lux was very obviously spooked, looking a few shades paler than before.
All he could muster was a weak nod of thanks. As he begins to dust himself off, he couldn't help but wonder about that voice.. that silhouette..
He had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last he'd see of that.. thing.