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Flins had always enjoyed the games he and Illuga played. He loved weaving tales for the other to untangle. He loved donning his eccentric human disguise like a thin veil begging to be torn away. When Flins confirmed his inhuman nature to Illuga, he had worried that their game was over. To his delight, it was anything but.
Illuga still visited the Final Night Cemetery under the guise of bringing supplies. Flins still entertained him with stories of half-truths. They still fished, played cards, and basked in the sun. The only difference was that Illuga had taken on a new side quest, of sorts. An additional game to play during his visits.
“Young Master Illuga,” Flins sighed fondly as the young captain presented a modified version of his signature dish, with chunks of Flins’s favorite fish scattered among the vegetables. “Don’t waste your precious supplies on me, a humble servant with no need for physical sustenance.”
“Nonsense, Lord Flins,” Illuga shot back, emphasizing his chosen title for Flins. A form of revenge for the ‘Young Master’ title. “I’ve seen you down fire water like actual water. I know that you have the capacity to enjoy food, and I will claim victory over your picky taste palate.”
“My, my, what a terrifying threat.” Flins left it at that. Who was he to quell the young master’s culinary creativity?
—
A few days later, Illuga arrived with another crate of ‘essential’ supplies. Flins watched him scan his surroundings, as if fearing an ambush. He wasn’t wrong to be wary. There was, in fact, a fae hiding behind a gravestone in lantern form, waiting for the perfect moment to materialize.
“Sir Flins? I know you’re around here somewhere!” Illuga called out as he marched up the path to the lighthouse. How convenient that he passed right by Flins’s hiding place.
“Flins- HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Illuga yelped and drew his polearm. The tip of it hovered mere inches from Flins’s shit-eating grin.
“Such vulgar language…” Flins teased, tone not reprimanding in the slightest.
“You have got to stop doing that. One of these days, I’ll end up impaling you…”
Flins shrugged. In his mind, it will have been worth it. He peered around the weapon to greet his guest properly, “Good afternoon, Young Master Illuga, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I’m only staying for a second. I’m here to drop off supplies.”
“Tired of me already?” Flins pouted as pitifully as he could while retaining some amount of courtliness. Illuga’s expression melted for exactly half a second before he called Flins out on his bullshit.
“That’s nonsense, and you know it. I have to run some errands in Nasha Town, then I’ll be back. You don’t think you’ve escaped my recipe testing, do you?”
“Of course not!” Flins’s pout was gone in an instant, as if it was never sincere in the first place (it wasn’t). Illuga said his farewells, and Flins was left alone with the ghosts and yet another crate. He brought it to the lighthouse basement, fully intending to let it gather dust with the others, but something stopped him.
Being a Snowland Fae, a creature made from the Frost Moon’s light, Flins was highly attuned to the lunar elements. That’s how he detected the traces of Kuuvahki inside the unassuming crate.
“Supplies with Kuuvahki?” Flins mused. Kuuvahki-powered weapons, perhaps? But the Lightkeepers don’t use those. The risk of the Abyss overpowering and neutralizing the Kuuvahki was too high. A Kuuhenki? There’s no way that kind-hearted Illuga would kidnap an innocent Kuuhenki.
Only one way to find out. Flins sifted through the usual offerings of cloth, rations, and firewood until he found the source. A handful of yellow, gem-shaped objects lay swathed in fabric, like eggs in a nest. He picked one up and found that the gem was attached to an adorably plump globe of a body. Bright yellow eyes, round and pupilless, stared up at him. He couldn’t help but compare them to his own.
“Greetings, fellow creature of the moon. May I have your name?”
The thing didn’t respond. Not surprising, given its lack of a mouth. Flins held the thing to his chest, basking in the gentle waves of Kuuvahki that thrummed from it like a heartbeat. He had to give Illuga some credit. After months of urging Flins to adopt a puppy, a useless endeavor given that animals avoided the fae, Illuga had found a more suitable pet for him. Five pets, to be exact.
Flins bundled all of them in his arms. Kuuvahki currents formed between them, and five separate ‘heartbeats’ synced into one soothing pulse. What would it feel like to rest in his true form alongside these creatures? It must be comfortable. Even more comfortable than his long sleep beneath the surface.
To test this theory, Flins returned the pets to their nest and tucked his lantern in the middle. Shedding his human form felt like wading into the tides that lapped at the Cemetery’s shore. As their Kuuvahki seeped into him, he reached out with his azure flames, not to consume the creatures, just to embrace them. It was so, so easy to get lost in the gentle push and pull of lunar energies.
—
“Sir Flins?” A voice woke the fae from his nap.
“Flins, I swear if you sneak up on me again…”
Naturally, Flins listened to Illuga’s warning and promptly ignored it. He materialized in Illuga’s blindspot and announced, “Welcome back, Young Master. And here I was thinking you had forgotten about me.”
“As if,” Illuga huffed. “I trust the supplies were to your liking?”
“Indeed. I found this shipment to contain a most pleasant surprise.”
“Just wait until you see what I can do with them!” Illuga reached into the crate and plucked out one of the creatures. “These are Mandragora. Don’t be fooled by their mimicry. Although they look like animals, they’re actually plants. Still, they taste…”
Flins didn’t catch the rest, nodding absently as he watched Illuga handle the Mandragora. What a gentle young man he was, holding the creature securely yet not causing it distress. One hand cradled the body, while the other wrapped tenderly around the gemstone on its head. Then the hands gripped tightly and pulled in opposite directions.
The glowing yellow gem turned a dull grey.
Its bright eyes flickered out.
The Kuuvahki heartbeat was no more.
Flins vaguely registered an inhuman screech. Blue sparks flew across his vision as he threw himself between the killer and the four remaining Mandragora. He could feel his form slipping, wings sprouting, fire erupting across his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“Flins?! Flins, what’s wrong?”
“Why? Why?!” His words came out mangled with grief and magic.
“Why what? The Mandragora? I thought you said you liked them. I was going to prepare a dish for you- Flins, are you crying?” Illuga looked almost as stricken as Flins felt.
And the answer was no. A centuries-old fae was most definitely not crying over the adorable creatures that he just learned were mere snacks to humans. Flins urged the flames in his eyes to burn brighter and evaporate any possible tears, just in case.
“I- I didn’t think you would get attached to them! I’m so sorry, Flins.” Illuga took off his coat and draped it over the Mandragora’s corpse, as though preparing a body for burial. A silly gesture, perhaps, but it was enough to calm the fae. The flames dissipated, and Flins appeared human again, albeit incredibly melancholy.
“These creatures…” Flins whispered, “I suppose I’ve fallen for their animal mimicry, but they, too, contain traces of moonlight. They feel like kin.”
Illuga threw his arms around Flins, hugging him desperately, as if he could squeeze out the pain.
“I swear on my life, I will never eat Mandragora again.”
—
Days after Flins expressed his forgiveness, Illuga continued to apologize. The next round of supplies included an entire crate of Mandragora (not for eating purposes) and a Slothsheep that Illuga had somehow managed to coax onto a boat and row all the way to the cemetery.
“Young Master, I assure you, I hold nothing against you. You needn’t go out of your way like this,” Flins said as he watched Illuga struggle to get the Slothsheep out of the boat.
“It’s no trouble at all!” Illuga would sound more convincing if he weren’t losing the battle against the Slothsheep.
“Illuga…”
“My culinary pride blindsided me and caused me to hurt you. I can’t sleep soundly until I am absolutely sure that I have made it up to you. I’ll even do your paperwork for a month!”
And just like that, Illuga won the argument.