Work Text:
Waking up was painful. Illuga felt pain spread throughout his body. The bright light instantly blinded him, so Illuga immediately closed his eyes again. Unable to assess the situation in the usual way, the Lightkeeper decided to listen to his sensations. In addition to the pain in his body, he felt himself lying on something soft. Lightly touching the fabric, he immediately realized it was his own bed. So, he was in a pyramid. Illuga involuntarily relaxed. A pleasant feeling of at least some safety made him forget the pain for a second. Another couple of minutes passed before he was able to open his eyes. Adjusting to the light, Illuga slowly glanced around the room. The light filtering through the half-open curtains softly spilled out, creating a particularly warm atmosphere. The light was so bright that Illuga could see dust flying in the air. He had so much work to do that his room was literally covered in a thick layer of dust. And because of this wound, he wouldn't be able to clean his room for a long time, Illuga thought wistfully, as if that really mattered right now. What really mattered was finding out what had happened. His thoughts drifted lazily, and weakness was starting to give him a headache.
Ah, Illuga remembered. It was a routine patrol with Flins. It was raining, but nothing out of the ordinary was happening. The only oddity was the unusual aggression of the few hunting monsters they encountered. Illuga noticed that Flins seemed unusually tense at that moment, constantly listening for something. Illuga hadn't guessed, but he was certain this ratnik heard more than he did. For this reason, the young man carefully watched his comrade's expression, trusting the instincts of someone who was clearly not human. However, the portal that suddenly opened before them, revealing a nest of monsters, took them both by surprise. The fight had been difficult and exhausting. The situation was quickly becoming critical. Illuga was always overly attentive, and this time it backfired. Flins seemed to have drifted away from him after launching a series of attacks, but Illuga habitually kept an eye on him, never losing sight of him. This habit developed after numerous losses of his men in battle. Illuga had no intention of losing anyone else. Especially him. The Lightkeeper couldn't understand why Flins was deliberately distancing himself from him as much as possible, seemingly hiding among the monsters. Was he planning something? Illuga had a hunch, but then all thoughts vanished. He saw only monster preparing to strike Flins's back. Illuga remembers his insides turning cold, and any trace of common sense shutting down. Surrendering to the sudden adrenaline rushing through his body, Illuga desperately lunged forward. He'd never thought he possessed such speed. The Lightkeeper blocked the first blow intended for Flins, but was too late to follow the second.
He heard more than he felt. How his skin split. How bone shattered on the monster's axe. How the pain stunned him, suffocating. How lightning struck nearby. What an inhuman scream there was somewhere nearby. The memories were so blurred that he doesn't remember exactly who or what screamed. Or if there was a scream at all. He only remembers his consciousness drowning as if in blue flame.
Slowly emerging from his memories back into the sunny room, Illuga coughed, earning a bolt of pain. Wincing and groaning softly, he automatically reached for his shoulder. How ironic. The wound was in the exact same spot where he'd received his first, most serious injury. Illuga swallowed. He'd been incredibly lucky. At best, he could have lost his arm. At worst, he could have been cut in half.
When the pain eased a bit, he tried to relax and fall asleep again in the reverent silence and warm light, but a noise came from the doorway, like a flame flickering in the wind.
Trying not to move too much, the Lightkeeper turned his head toward the sound. Flins stood in the doorway. Illuga quickly analyzed his appearance. He was a little disheveled, but as elegant as ever. He was without his cloak, making him seem smaller than Illuga was used to. His face was expressionless, and the bags under his eyes seemed darker. But there were no visible wounds on his body; he was alive and well. Illuga sighed with relief. In the moment, nothing else mattered. He immediately wanted to go back to sleep, but Flins moved silently toward his bed. It would be impolite to fall asleep so quickly, Illuga thought, and watched with interest as Flins stopped beside his bed. He said nothing, simply standing, as if scanning him with his gaze.
Illuga didn't know what Flins saw when he looked at him, but it felt like it was something that couldn't be seen with the human eye.
I wonder if it has a thermal imager? The thought somehow amused Illuga, but the sudden handing of a glass of water forced him to dismiss all thoughts. Just in time. His throat was dry. Without a word, Flins helped him up to a comfortable position for a drink. Then he carefully laid him back down on the bed and looked at him with an unreadable gaze.
“It was reckless”.
Illuga chuckled to himself and said hoarsely:
“I almost died, and this is the first thing you say when I wake up”.
“I just want to scold you, rodnoy*. But we'll argue when you feel better. I'll tell you everything I think, remember that, young master".
Illuga genuinely laughed at this. He was so happy it wasn't Flins in the dying bed that he could forgive him any of his antics. Especially when he looked at him with such a yearning gaze. Flins almost touched his hand, but suddenly stopped and said simply and sincerely:
“Thank you for saving me. And thank you for staying alive. I'm in your debt”.
Illuga froze for a moment. "Debt?" The Lightkeeper looked away.
“What debt are you talking about? You yourself said that I acted recklessly”.
“That blow was meant for me. That's why I feel I owe you. After all, it's not me, but you who is lying there wounded”.
Illuga tried not to look the ratnik in the eye. He'd long since realized that this blow wouldn't have seriously harmed Flins. However, at that moment, the young Lightkeeper had given in to panic. Therefore, Illuga sincerely believed that the injury was his own fault. It had been thoughtless, unprofessional, done out of emotion. What duty could Flins even speak of? Now, thinking about what had happened, he was infinitely ashamed of his emotionality. Illuga almost wanted to object, but he stopped and considered. Then, staring intently at what seemed like nothing, he drawled thoughtfully:
“Then, Flins, speaking of duty, can you do something for me?”
Flins smiled that same tender smile for which Illuga was ready to receive at least 10 wounds, bowed, holding his hand to his heart and said:
“Of course, young master, you can ask me anything you want”.
“Please tidy up my room. The most important thing: dust it”.
“What?”
“What?”