Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The Lightkeepers all chanted this oath in unison to rally their spirits as they marched forward. This words had been hammered into their heads and engraved into their hearts from the beginning of each of their initiations as a Ratnik. They had vowed to protect, and tonight, that was what they would do.

The Mossgreen Hills were under attack. A huge surge of activity in the Wild Hunt was threatening the small villages out in the wilderness, and it was their duty to defend the civilians.

This great charge was being led by none other than the Starshyna himself, Sigurd. A small army of Ratniki followed him, Oath Lanterns blazing in the night like a thousand stars.

"Lightkeepers! Tonight, we rally! This time, we fight not to prevent, but to protect!" He called out from the head of the enormous group, his usually kind voice carrying through the silent night. "Those people need our help, and we will not rest until every last one is safe!" He raised his lantern, and together, they began to chant.

"The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,"

"Free your heart from dreams of the living."

"We are the Lightkeepers, who shine the eternal light of hope into the endless snow-swept plains!"

With that, they charged.

The silent night air was soon filled with the cries of battle and the screams of frightened children. The Wild Hunt was unusually violent tonight, and why, they did not know. It unnerved even the Ratniki... or at least most of them.

"Look, it's Sylephren's squadron!"

At the front of the battle, a group of ferocious men fought with reckless abandon. This squadron, who'd named themselves the Azure Flame, never feared battle. In the years since they were appointed, they had never suffered a single loss.

The sole reason for that miracle was evident all around them. A raging inferno of blue fire swirled around the men, and within it, the flaming silhouette of a woman leaped spryly about, laughing. Everything her hands touched blazed alight with blue and purple flames. It did not burn a single Lightkeeper, but it hungrily consumed the bodies of the Wild Hunt.

This was the famed Captain Sylephren... better known as the Lantern Fae. She was a highly destructive creature in battle; a distinct contrast to her gentle, pleasant nature outside of it. She fought with a single-minded frenzy... broken only by the sound of more screams.

Even with a lantern fae, this group of Wild Hunt was like nothing they had seen before. Ratniki were falling left and right, screaming in agony as their bodies were consumed by the corruption and joined the fray as ghouls of the Hunt. Those that had been cut down already were beginning to recover, launching back into the frenzy. The Lightkeepers were rapidly diminishing, and the civilians were being slaughtered alongside them.

This, of course, horrified the fae. She could only protect within her small bubble, but that left the rest of the group isolated and kept her men from properly aiding their comrades. If they were to survive, this could not stand.

The flames quickly faded away, and in their place stood a woman. She was tall and pale, almost fragile. Her snow-white hair blew free from its place behind her pointed ears, and her ultramarine eyes seemed to glow with the light of her fire. She was clad in a flowing dress that looked and moved almost like her living flames, and in her left hand, she carried her lantern.

"Men, please, aid your comrades." She ordered. "Evacuate all the civilians you can, and call for me should you be overwhelmed!"

As the men ran off, she walked calmly through the fray. From her lantern, tendrils of fire that lashed at any approaching ghoul sprouted, leaving her untouched. Once she'd reached an area dense enough with the Wild Hunt, her form melted away back into flames, and she attacked. To Sylephren, this was as natural as breathing. As a creature of flames, she was built only for destruction, and here, she gladly wrought it. In this, she took a childish glee.

Yet all too soon, cries of her name arose from all across the battlefield. She realized, with great horror, that it was now her men that were falling. She, like them, had nearly assumed them to be invincible... yet now it was apparently clear that such invincibility was only applicable when she fought alongside them. They'd never been in a large enough battle to have had to disperse, and she hadn't exactly considered what would happen when she split them up.

Her flaming form frantically leaped through the air, trying to keep the Wild Hunt at bay, but it was everywhere. Her fire burned fiercely, but she could only spread so thin. She was not the strongest of Lantern Fae, and she was already growing weary.

A flash of movement caught her eye, and she turned just in time to see as an enormous wilderness ghoul raised its axe to strike none other than the Starshyna Sigurd himself. Sylephren cried out, her flames frantically rushing forward to protect him...

...Only for that axe to cleave directly through the heart of her flaming form. The glowing silhouette in the fire was chopped in two with little issue, and Sigurd let out a blood-curdling scream as the axe cut straight through his spine. Blood splattered through the air, and the droplets that touched Sylephren burned immediately.

She could hardly breathe. The Starshyna was dead, and that lucky Wild Hunt brute had managed to hit her on the single place she could be harmed. Most of the blue fire was an extension of her, and the flaming figure was her true form. The only way to hurt her was to cut it... and she'd been cut in half. Even as she reformed, her flames grew rapidly weaker. Screams from every direction filled her ears, filling her mind until she wished to scream from the agony of the sound.

Then, she heard it: the soft sobs of a child. Her flaming form turned to see a child, likely younger than ten, cowering in fear beneath the rubble. He had grey hair and pale blue eyes, and there was a bloody gash running down the left side of his neck and shoulder. Sylephren rushed over to him, and while at first he cried out in fear of the fire, he soon realized that she was not hear to harm him. She re-materialized, quickly setting to tending the wound. It was likely infected with Abyssal corruption, so she extended her flames to gently burn it away. The child yelped, but she soothed him. She considered cauterizing the wound, but considering the amount of vital nerves and arteries, it was too risky. She instead opted to tear apart the hem of her dress and use the ribbons of fabric to bandage him.

By then, the boy was in shock, completely unresponsive. If he was left alone, he would die.

Sylephren heard the cries from behind her, her own men screaming for her help, people dropping like flies. Her body was bleeding as well, and she could hardly move; that axe had slashed open her back, leaving the bone of her spine open to the world as the v-shaped wound bled. The thought of what it would look like made her feel ill.

In that moment, she chose to stay. She laid her body atop that of the child, hiding him, before darkness claimed her entirely. Her lantern lashed at anything drawing close to her, protecting the child. While he was alive, to the world, she appeared dead. She wished to keep it that way; no monster would check below a dead body to discover the child she hid.

"Sylephren? Sylephren! Stop, you're going to burn him!" That voice... that must be Captain Nikita!

She blinked blearily awake. The sun was just beginning to crest over the green hills. Aside from the upturned soil and burned grass, there were no major signs of a battle. The bodies of the fallen had been claimed by the Wild Hunt.

Only after she registered this did she realize that she was in her flaming form. Her physical body had grown far too weak, and she'd likely reverted back in her sleep. Despite this, the boy her flames were wrapped around was unharmed, save for that cut along his neck and shoulder. He was awake, yet shockingly, he was silent. This puzzled her greatly.

"What is your name, child?" She prompted gently.

"Illuga." His voice was barely even a whisper, as if he were terrified to speak.

"Why are you so quiet?"

At that, the boy's lip begins to quiver and his eyes grow wet. Hot tears roll down the boy's cheeks. "My mother told me that if I cried, the monsters would find me.*

His mother... at that, Sylephren jumped up. Had she survived? Who was left? Even in her weakened state, her flaming body bounced over to the makeshift camp.

The amount of Lightkeepers... was frighteningly low. Perhaps two dozen remained. Among them were hardly any civilians, and none of her squad mates.

She stood there for a long moment, trying to process the sheer scale of what happened. Hundreds of Oath Lanterns littered the ground all around the hills, their cheerful light seeming to mock her. Sylephren was not used to this depth of emotion; she was relatively young by fae standards, only 200, and lacked the emotional maturity older members of her kind had. She was not acquainted with feelings like loss and grief.

Behind her, a nameless Ratniki approached; she could not discern his face through the blur of her tears. "Sylephren. Our... Our Starshyna, Sigurd, had fallen. We have no one to take his place. We wondered if you'd be willing to-"

"NO!"

The speed at which she screamed this out surprised her greatly. Sylephren hadn't even processed the question, but now that she said it, there was no way she could accept. She'd sent her own squad members off to die. She'd killed them all by letting them leave her protection, and she hadn't even fought to save them. She could never be worthy of such a position.

The Ratniki was just as shocked as she, and naturally began to protest. However, each of his claims was met with growing hysteria from Sylephren. She was no longer listening to him. She was responsible for the death of her men... she couldn't protect Sigurd... she couldn't even find that child quickly enough to prevent him from suffering. Soon, her flames were beginning to grow again, as if readying to lash out at her own comrades.

"Sylephren, stop it!"

Nikita stepped in, eyes blazing. She could see that the night had deeply shaken him, but he still remained steadfast. "If she will not take the position, then I will."

By noon, the remaining Lightkeepers were marching with the civilians back to Pyramida to regroup. Sylephren was not with them.

She instead began to search the field, weeping as she gathered the Oath Lanterns that belonged to her own men. She searched for Sigurd's as well, but found it strangely absent.

She spent the rest of the day in that sea of a thousand lanterns. The fae had tasted grief for the first time, and she would not soon forget it.