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Nasha Town was as lively as ever. The sun was just about to set, leaving the stage to the moon, and still the streets were full of people, their joy contagious in its simplicity.
The many food stalls scattered across the largest city in Nod-Krai were still crowded, children running between them while the red and blue Kuuvahki energy buzzing through the city added a vibrant touch of color to everything.
Flins would have much rather spent his evening within the quiet comfort of his humble abode in the cemetery. Alas, certain social events were well worth the loss of his precious silence.
Among the many voices that animated the street, the loudest and most cheerful one belonged to Varka, Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius.
His return to Mondstadt was imminent, and because of it he was trying to meet every friend he had in the land blessed by the moon before his time in the city ran out.
And what better way to say a final goodbye than with one— or more realistically, several —last drinks at the Flagship?
Among those Varka called friends were two Lightkeepers: Flins and the captain of the Nightmare Orioles, Illuga.
The other two men walked a few steps ahead of him, Varka’s towering height making it easy to track them through the crowd as he spoke animatedly with the shorter Ratnik.
Flins wasn’t listening. He was far more interested in observing their exchange as the blond man threw a muscled arm around Illuga’s shoulders, guiding him toward the door of Nasha Town’s most popular tavern.
"You, my dear captain, need to take a break from your duties," Varka laughed. "And what better occasion than this?"
Their meeting had been a coincidence; the two Ratnik had just been back from a mission near the border of the city, but the grandmaster's invitation had made it obvious that neither of them could refuse without losing the opportunity of a last goodbye.
Even his young master Illuga, always so dedicated, always ready to put his duty before everything else, had to concede to a night of debauchery.
A small, secretive smile pulled at his lips.
Humans had always fascinated him: they would fall and fail and die, their lives a mere grain of sand compared to his immortal one, and still find ways to make the most of their time.
Find beauty in tragedy.
Find reasons, each and every morning, to keep going.
And Illuga, precious young naive Illuga, was the most interesting to watch by far.
A survivor that pledged his life and soul to defending those in need and still doubted himself at every turn.
In his long existence Flins could count on one hand the people that had held his attention so effortlessly.
Fae were finicky creatures after all, changing their mind easily and finding that deceiving and getting their way rarely needed much of their time or attention.
And yet, when within his presence, Flins couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off Illuga.
From behind the counter of the bar, Demyan was already pouring drinks.
It seemed that while Flins was lost in thought, Varka had already ordered for all three of them.
"I already know that Flins won't have any problem holding his alcohol. I've seen him down a whole bottle of Snezhnayan firewater without a flinch."
The Grandmaster smirked and took the shots from Demyan's hands, putting them on the counter in front of them, and the fae could count at least 20 of them, if not more.
"Now, I've never seen you drinking more than a beer, Illuga, but Nikita can drink most of his men under the table, and as his son, I wouldn't be surprised if you could do the same."
A nervous expression passed over the young Lightkeeper's face for a second, but it was soon replaced by a sunshine smile.
"And I shall not disappoint you, Grandmaster," he said, taking one of the shot glasses between his fingers and raising it in the air, "to you, friend, to your journey back home."
The three of them cheered and downed the liquid.
To Flins, drunkenness was but a jest, and humans were so easily fooled.
A misstep here, a mumble there, and they would believe him to be as inebriated as them.
In actuality, there was no way of getting Flins so much as tipsy, let alone drunk.
On the other hand, his young master was far more sensitive to alcohol's effects.
He had seen him stumble out of the Lightkeepers' headquarters after two glasses of wine.
And still, his fascinating little nightingale downed shot after shot as if it were water, laughing at his friend's jokes and bantering amicably with him while a soft pinkish tint colored his cheeks with the hues of the sunset.
Flins wondered for a second if his reddened skin would feel warmer to the touch.
If he would shiver when met with his own cold hands.
"Looks like our companion for the night is far too engrossed in his own thoughts to pay us any attention."
Varka's remark startled him from his train of thought.
"It seems like I got lost in my head for a moment, I apologize, but believe me, I'm paying close attention."
Fae could not lie.
They could deceive, they could circle and dance around the truth like no one else ever could, but when it came down to it, they were incapable of saying falsehood.
And while Varka seemed to let go of the matter pretty easily, Illuga squinted at him curiously.
As expected of the captain of the investigation squad, the young ratnik could read people quite well.
As a matter of fact he could see past most of his harmless pranks and read through his flowery wording like no one else.
Even inebriated as he probably already was, a single look from Illuga was able to convey the message:
'I know you are not telling the truth sir Flins'
And wasn't that breathtaking?
A mortal seeing through the deception of an ancient being such as him?
"Young master, are you quite well? You seem...bothered"
Keeping the smile from reaching his voice was hard enough but it was well worth the stormy look directed to him.
"And you on the other end—hic—are completely sober"
The sentence sounded more like an accusation and it did nothing but make the smirk he was trying to hide more prominent.
"Told ya lad—the grandmaster started, completely unaware of the situation on only slightly tipsy after downing his fair share of alcohol—he can handle his drinks just fine, luckily for him, I think I've never seen him in hungover either"
"What can I say, it must be the Snezhnayan blood in my veins"
His young master didn't seem interested in responding but he still stared back at him, eyes slightly hooded with tiredness.
And that's exactly when Demyan served then another round of drinks, Varka's delighted laugh filling the room.
And they drank and chatted some more, the conversation flowing as easily as the drinks poured in their glasses.
Now he was trying to actually participate in the conversation, but his eyes never strayed far from the ratnik next to him
The color on his cheeks had spread to his neck, now matching the strands of crimson in his pale grey-white hairs and the cristals in his earring.
His laughter had got loud, matching that of his friend, and his coat was now sliding down his shoulders revealing a sleeve of pale skin covered in freckles and marred by the long scar that went down his neck
He looked like the most precious of the gems, the most valuable coin in his own collection couldn't possibly compare to his beauty.
A ruby so vivid that could pass for a drop of blood
And yet imperfect: his skin a canvas of scars, his hands full of calluses from handling his polearm.
But much like any precious item he'd ever seen, flaws never diminished a treasure's worth.
If anything, they only proved it had lived.
"Sir Flins, you are staring"
His clever eyes were again on him, something smug in his voice like he'd just read the fae's mind.
Something predatory to match his own thirst for blood.
"I'm simply admiring the young master, he's not used to drinking so heavily and yet he's still standing, facing the challenge head on"
The compliment, if possible, made his cheeks even redder and wasn't that a sight to behold?
"Now you're just being sneaky"
The pout on his mouth made flins laugh and while his squad leader evaded his scrutiny he tried to find Varka.
To no one surprise the grandmaster had gone on his own side quest, now seated in one of the many booths in the bar with the traveler, Paimon and Nefer.
Probably fishing for information, even more likely just enjoying the company.
"It seems like we have lost Varka to a merrier crowd"
He pretended to not hear the muttered 'a change of argument? Sound like you don't want to respond'
"How do you feel about a breath of fresh air?"
Illuga seemed to think about it then, suddenly, he tried to stand on shaky legs only to almost fall to the ground.
Flins caught him immediately, more than happy to hold him in his arms, while and endeared smile curved his lips
"This is embarrassing" the younger admitted, face dangerously close to the other ratnik chest.
"None of that young master, let's get out before Varka notices that he will have to shoulder the cost of this night alone"
"You are shameless Mr Flins"
He smirked, adjusting his precious nightingale so that he could stand next to him, circling his waist with one arm and walking with him to the door.
The air outside of the bar was cold, the moon standing high in the sky, and blessedly no one was seated in the little alley, so that they could actually chat without the odd drunkard wandering around.
Now seated next to eachother on the little bench, their shoulders touching, it seemed like there was not much to say.
The silence was peaceful, almost reassuring, interrupted only by the quite breathing of his fellow ratnik.
Then came the question:
"Are you unable to get drunk or just really good at holding it?"
He laughed again, he couldn't help it.
"You won't let this go, won't you?"
"You won't give me a response, won't you?"
It seemed like they were at an impasse.
But this time Flins decided to concede.
"Alcohol doesn't affect me, I like the taste of it but it never bothered me the way it bothers you humans"
A confession.
Or well, something close to one: his young master was sharper then most, he had already theorised that he could not be human for there were too many oddities about him.
But it seemed to surprise him nonetheless.
He observed his face as he processed his words.
"Right...so you really aren't human"
"Are you afraid now?"
That startled a laugh out of him, his melodic voice still ringing a bit louder due to the alcohol coursing in his veins.
"Sir Flins, you made sure that I would escape death more than once since we met, we have fought together, you could be a mandragora for all that i care"
His smile was brighter then the sun, making Flins skin buzz like he had kuuvahki energy running through him.
"The reason why I want to know so badly is that I care about you, and knowing you is worth deciphering your mind numbing answers"
Ah
This body of his, it was nothing but an illusion, its only purpose was to hide his true nature and make it easier to interact with humans.
And yet...
He could feel his chest tighten uncomfortably, his flames flaring inside of him like a bonfire fed with gasoline.
He didn't need to breathe and yet he could still feel the absence of oxygen when he tried to speak again and nothing came for a few seconds
"Aren't you curious? Don't you want know more?"
He didn't get an answer immediately, but when he did it shook him the same as everything else Illuga was saying.
"Oh absolutely, if I could know everything about you I feel like it still wouldn't be enough, but it's okay. I'll wait and you will tell me, just as I suspect you already told me a bit of it in your stories from ages ago"
Oh Illuga...
What a terrible thing to steal the heart of a fae.
Now he wouldn't have a choice, he would have to keep this creature with him for he had enchanted him body and soul.
In another life, he would have made for an amazing member of the fairy court himself.
He took a deep breath and then spoke, his voice deeper and rougher than before.
"Kyryll"
Illuga looked at him, eyelashes fluttering in confusion.
"What?"
And all he could do in response was to take one of his master hands in his, carefully removing the glove on it, and bringing it to his lips without ever taking his eyes off of him.
"It's my name, Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins, I want you to have it, to use it"
It would be a small token for a human perhaps, a show of a deeper connection than that of two mere colleagues.
But for one ancient species in particular it meant ownership, it meant willingly surrendering yourself to the person that knew it.
It meant trusting in ways that were not easy for fairies
But by the way his companion's eyes lightened up it seemed that maybe the human was closer to the truth than he tought.
"Only if you call me Illuga in return"
And so it was decided.
He would be his and Illuga would be his in return
And it would be the easiest and hardest things they would do in their life.
And this bond wouldn't be possible to undo, not even by the cold hands of death.
She might try to divide them eventually, but she wouldn't be able to pry his precious gem from his hands even if she tried.
He would follow him, in every choice, in every place and when his time came he would follow him in his tomb.
"Illuga"
It came out like a confession, like a prayer to a benevolent god, warm like liquid fire and electric in the way it made Illuga tremble slightly
"Kyryll, promise me that this is not a fever dream induced by the alcohol, otherwise I will have to punch Varka"
He laughed again, trilled in a way that 700 years of life had never allowed him to feel.
"I promise"
Telling the truth for a fae was a rarity, but it was well worth the effort when his beloved closed the distance between them with a kiss.