Chapter Text
Through the Nothing Passage, past Blue Amber Lake, and down through the black sands of Star Sand Shole, Flins walked. The air was frigid and crisp, the way it usually was in the early spring of Nod Krai, and yet it still managed to make Flins shiver. Above him, a Crowned Eagle soared, its call piercing the air while Flins trudged through grass once more, and then over the smooth rocks that dotted the cliffs. A vast forest lay ahead of him as he continued on his journey to Hiisi Island. Pines stood tall and strong despite the sharp gusts that sometimes brought snow all the way down from Snezhnaya.
Without his lantern, Flins had found that he caught quite the chill, even during Nod Krai’s warmer months. The pelts of the Pale-Furred Wolves kept him as warm as they could, but without the flames that made up his true form close by, there wasn’t much to be done. Even now, despite centuries having gone by, Flins still wasn’t used to the nothingness that breezed past his hip instead of the gentle swinging of the vessel that cradled blue flames close.
Glancing down as if it might suddenly appear, he let out a sigh and forged on. Night would be falling in a few short hours, and while he had promised Lauma that he would be there before it got too dark, Flins wasn’t the best at keeping such oaths. The Vila probably knew that when he first sent word, but hadn’t nagged for him to start moving sooner. Flins assumed that was because she knew his hopes were unfounded. Lauma had been keeping an eye out for their Goddess far longer than he had, or perhaps she just knew he wouldn't listen.
Five hundred years.
That was how long it had been now since Nod Krai had been doomed.
This little archipelago had been peaceful before then. Flins was just a young fae at the time, a naive boy who dreamed of one day exploring the world beyond their shores. There had to be something out there past the vast seas, and Flins often found himself looking out at the waters and wishing for excitement, an adventure that would shake the boring everyday life of his small village.
It would be a wish he regretted for many years to come.
—
The village was lively that morning. Flins remembered seeing a hunting party getting ready. The Rimehorn Deer herds were growing larger, and their hooves were trampling over saplings, while the grass had trouble recovering fast enough to feed their numbers. It was time to thin the herd before they ate all the resources for other animals as well. While he was young and resourceful, Flins was not a killer. He indulged in the meat the hunters brought back, but could not bring himself to end the sweet creatures that provided it. His heart was too soft, and his hands were better suited for creating, rather than taking away.
Instead, Flins foraged and tinkered. He could sharpen spears, create simple toys for the fae children, and often pulled his weight in repairing homes after a hard winter or keeping their stores of local fruits or vegetables stocked. Leakey roofs were no trouble, nor was whittling, and he was certainly very good at igniting any fires, even when the wood was damp. The silver lamp that weighed his belt down had been attached to his hip at this time, and wherever the lantern fae went, so did it, for it housed all that he truly was.
As the sun began to set on that night five centuries ago, Flins had been whittling by the purple flames that danced in the center of his village. Lauma was braiding the children’s hair one by one as Nefer watched from a few feet away. Kuutar’s lullaby was being sung to the very little ones, and Flins listened with a fond smile on his face. The others sat by the fire as well, bundled well enough against the cold, and the stars were just becoming visible overhead. All eyes that had been gazing at the pale white of the moon against deep blue and magenta turned toward the treeline when a twig snapped, and then heavy footfalls followed.
The hunting party hadn’t come back yet. Flins had just assumed the deer had been alluding them, driving them further and further from Paha Isle. It wasn’t uncommon for them to take several days tracking down the herd, but all were surprised when just Rerir stepped through the dark of the treeline.
Rerir had been an upstanding gentleman in their village. Flins hadn’t spent much time alone with him, but they had spoken civilly and worked together on projects in the past. The brunette was smart and held a vast love for Tholindis, the one fae who often sang the sweetest, yet the man who stood at the edge of the village that night was not the Rerir they knew.
He loomed, his hulking frame stopping just short of the fire’s light while taking deep, ragged breaths. Blood covered Rerir’s hands and splashed all across his front. Flins had never seen that much before, and his eyes widened when Rerir opened his mouth wider, and words tumbled out.
“The others are dead, and the Goddess is gone.”
Tholindis was the first to stand from her seat by the fire, her face one of shock. Flins still felt frozen in place as shock engulfed him and shot through his nerves. He couldn’t move, not even as the knife he was whittling with bit into the pad of his thumb from how hard he was pushing it. The wood in between was gone, cleaved in two as panic took over his village.
“What do you mean? What happened to Kuutar?”
“Czcibor is dead!?”
“Rerir, explain!”
Their wails willed the coming night, and though his people felt distress and looked toward Rerir for guidance, Flins felt a chill deep down. Something wasn’t right. The smaller hairs on the back of his neck and along his arms were standing, and the longer he looked at Rerir, the less he looked like himself. His hair was paler, his eyes sharper, and his frame even taller than before. Behind him, there looked to be long shadows branching out from his own, all appearing darker than the ones cast by the pine trees.
“Kuutar abandoned you. There is a sickness in this land, and it’s spreading from Ashviel Peak. Your only choice is to trust me to keep you safe. I’ll be your new God. Wouldn’t you like that?”
Rerir’s voice cracked as he posed the question. A small smile was creeping up his cheeks and across his face as he looked at all of them. Once-blue eyes glinted magenta in the dimming light of the fire. The shadows cast by their homes and the villagers alike elongated further while the remaining light of the sun dipped below the horizon, and murmurs took over the crowd.
“Surely you’re joking, Rerir,” Tholindis spoke, her voice higher than the rest, but wavering.
“Why would I joke about something like this? Am I not fit for Godhood? I’m stronger than all of you. I’m the one who provides, anyway. What did Kuutar ever do for us? We left offerings and prayed, and only a portion of what we asked for was fulfilled,” Rerir growled.
“She deemed what was necessary for us!” Tholindis had her hands balled into fists at her side as she looked up at the large fae before her. His size had never been intimidating before, but with that crazed look in his eye, Flins could see her shoulders hunch, and a bead of sweat roll down the back of her neck. She was afraid. They all were.
“Did you kill Czcibor and the others?” Nefer’s cold voice cut in. Heads turned in her direction, and Flins noted the casual way her arms were crossed over her chest. She had always managed to keep her cool in stressful situations, and Nefer always had ways of knowing everything that went on in the village. Flins wondered if she had seen this coming or if this was all just a front. She wasn't shaking like Tholindis, but as Flins' gaze moved toward her eyes, he could see a glint of terror in them.
The murmurs of the crowd died down, and the echoing silence of the woods surrounding them sank in. The puffins weren’t warbling, the Longplume Ibis were silent, and even the gentle buzzing of the Moonglow Fireflies had disappeared. It was as if the whole world was holding its breath.
“Rerir… How could you?”
Tholindis looked distraught. Her body was shaking, and there were tears that Flins could see glinting in the lingering firelight. He felt his own flames lick at the glass of his lantern, and in the moment that Flins glanced down toward his hip, all silence dissipated.
Flins' people were angry, and as the fae folk rose along with their voices, Flins saw them fall in the span of one blink. Where Pechna once stood, there was a corpse. The same fate took Hoyka, Neb, and Urho. Their bodies slumped onto the ground without Flins even seeing what had killed them. They were simply gone, their blood seeping from their bodies only to be drunk by the parched earth below. Behind Rerir, the shadows seemed to writhe in anger.
“Stop resisting! Do you want to end up like them? Do you want me to kill you all!?” Rerir took one step forward, and everyone grew silent once more. What were they to do? Whatever had possessed Rerir was clearly powerful. None of them could fight against a force they couldn’t even see, and so they bent the knee and surrendered. The village went to sleep that night under Rerir’s rule, and Flins woke up at first light the next morning to dig graves for his kin, only to find their corpses gone, as if they had just gotten up and walked away. It wasn’t until later that he saw them again while out picking berries. The first one he noticed was Neb. His body was so small, and Flins could see the small Sniffer Mole he had carved for the child in his vest pocket, even if he could no longer recognize his face. Then Hoyka and Pechna staggered over the bank of the river. Their corpses were glowing, veins of purple light sprouting from them as they staggered through the forest, unaware of his presence.
Rerir had been right after all. There was a sickness in this land, one that Flins was sure Rerir was connected to.
—
The Lantern Fae’s actions on that night haunted him. Sitting idly, carving a knife into his own thumb had been foolish. Flins should have fought. He should have died trying to save his people because life under Rerir was no life at all.
Flins’ lantern was the first thing that was asked of him by their new 'God'. ‘An offering,’ Rerir had said with a smile on his face, as if he wasn’t asking for Flins’ very being. It had been cowardly, but he handed it over. Flins hadn’t wanted to die just yet, and there was still hope back then. Kuutar was missing, not dead. Lauma prayed to her every night, begging for salvation as she looked toward the full moon, and even though none had come the first night, or the second... or the third, they still held onto hope.
Soon, the others had their most precious items taken as well. From Nefer, Rerir had taken her chess set. From Lauma, he had taken her antlers. The sight of the stumps had made Flins drop a pail of water as soon as he saw her, and Lauma soon ran into his arms with tears in her eyes, and blood in her long hair.
Only Tholindis was spared from giving any 'offerings', perhaps because Rerir loved her so, though with each passing day her eyes dulled and her will to live diminished. A year into Rerir’s rule, she slipped away entirely.
Food supplies diminished as what was now known as the Wild Hunt encroached on their land. The undead creatures feasted on the Rimehorn Deer and Slothsheep when they couldn’t catch a fae, and their village slowly broke apart. It was safer not to crowd together. The Wild Hunt liked large groups, it made it easier to catch the stragglers. No one wanted to remain right under Rerir’s thumb, either. He had taken over Paha Isle, and everything above the Voidsea Outlook was overrun with Wild Hunt and Fishers. That left just Lempo Isle and Hiisi Island.
Flins had chosen to settle at the North-most point of Lempo Isle. He liked the sea and the taste of the fish that swam in it, and there were many places to hide in Nothing Passage, and his home was far enough away from the paths the Wild Hunt usually wandered.
Another chill ran up Flins’ spine as his boots hit the water. The forest was behind him now, and he just had a short trek across the shallows that led to Hiisi Island. There, he would greet Lauma, have a warm meal, and push on until he was on the West-most point. She would probably scold him, but Flins needed to check. He had to see if Kuutar had truly stayed gone after all these years. Something was guiding him there, and Flins felt like he couldn’t rest until he laid eyes on the large crescent moon carved from Moonfall Silver.
With his boots soaked and his toes freezing, Flins made his way across the broken bridge and through the path of ancient stone statues. Faes, even older than he was, had carved them from a time long past. Flins was sure that none of them remained despite their long lifespan. The rock was cracked from long years of rain wearing it away, and he smoothed his fingers over the stone as he passed, admiring their artistry.
“You always fondle those things,” a voice said from far too close. Flins hadn’t even noticed Nefer sneak up on him, but he supposed that wasn’t unheard of for a Leshy. They were crafty creatures, after all.
“I’m not fondling, I’m admiring,” he corrected with a small, mischievous smile, “I did not know that you would be here, My Lady. What a coincidence…”
“Shut up, will you? I hate it when you get that creepy look on your face. Go see Lauma, she’s been worried sick now that the sun’s been down for a while.”
Nefer nodded toward the ruins not too far away. Lauma had taken to calling this place her own shortly after their home started breaking apart, and she welcomed more than any other fae would during these trying times. While Nefer had disappeared the day she gave up her chess set, Lauma hadn’t been far behind her, and she had managed to convince others to leave with her. They now speckled Hiisi Island, while it was Flins who had stayed back out of worry for his flame, but when he realized that Rerir had no plans to douse it, he had unwound a bit of his leash. Leaving Nod Krai entirely wasn’t possible, however. Flins could only be so far from it. A whole ocean of the unknown was too far and too vast for him to traverse.
“Must you both mother me? I’m the same age as you,” Flins reminded her as his feet started moving.
“I’ll stop when you’re less reckless,” Nefer shot back. Her steps fell in line with his, and soon they were heading into Lauma’s home. The taller woman was bent over, stirring a pot of stew over the glow of a red fire. She had just dipped her finger in and brought it to her lips for a taste when she spotted the two fae come inside, and Lauma’s eyes lit up with delight.
“Flins! You’re here! Nefer, did you find him for me?” Her gaze softened as she looked at the other woman. Nefer simply let out a snort and looked away, though her cheeks turned a noticeable shade of pink.
“Lady Lauma, it’s nice to see you. Thank you for allowing me into your home at such a late hour,” Flins bowed politely, though he was tugged into a large hug just a moment later. He could barely breathe as the excess of her chest invaded his personal space, causing his rib cage to stifle its own expansion, and the only way out of her grasp was a quick wiggle until he slipped through the loop of her arms.
“Oh! Too much…?” Lauma asked, her hand moving to her cheek as she looked down at the lantern fae. Flins nodded from his new position on the floor, though he was quick to stand and smooth down the furs that made up his coat.
“Just a bit. My constitution is not the best without my flame…” It had been getting worse, too. Where Flins used to be able to light a fire as hot as his real body, he now could only ignite one as red as the flames Lauma was cooking with.
“He took a piece of all of us, remember?” Nefer said from the corner of the room, her arms crossed over her chest, though Flins had a feeling she was trying to comfort herself instead of appearing aloof.
“He took all of me,” Flins corrected, his tone turning grave.
Lauma coughed, her gaze flicking back and forth between both him and Nefer as she tried to lighten the mood. A small, awkward smile graced her lips as she nudged a chair near Flins and then gestured for Nefer to take one as well. Flins took the peace offering with ease. He was tired from his long trip, and a meal paired with rest before moving West was welcome.
“... I haven’t seen any sign of Kuutar,” Lauma spoke softly while she spooned stew into three bowls. She handed them out, and Flins took his, relishing the warmth that seeped through the carved wood and into his hands as he held it. “I’m not sure why you’re here, Flins. I… I don’t think she’ll return for quite some time.”
“Don’t lose faith, Lady Moon Chanter. What would the others think if they heard you say such a thing? Besides, there’s no harm in seeing for myself while also stopping in to see a dear friend,” Flins reassured. He felt no hope even in his own words, however. If Lauma was giving up, shouldn’t he? But still, that feeling was there, the need to see the Moonfall Silver moon for himself.
“I suppose you’re right… But please, spend the night here. It’s dangerous wandering around in the dark,” Lauma pleaded. Her big doe eyes were often what won Nefer over, but Flins wasn’t as susceptible. He had plenty of children gazing up at him while begging for toys before. If he said yes to all of their requests, he would have been up to his ears in wood shavings.
With a simple shake of his head, Flins refused. Instead, he brought his spoon to his lips and had his first taste of stew. The herbs made the broth flavorful, though Flins silently wished there were meat in it. Instead, he had a bite of a potato that might have been left in the ground for too long, and a rather skinny carrot chunk.
“The earlier I arrive, the more time I have to examine Kuutar’s domain,” Flins stated between mouthfuls.
“I’ve already-”
“Already looked over every inch? I have no doubt, Lady Lauma. I just… I need to do it. It’s like there was a spark in me, telling me that I need to be here,” Flins said quietly. His voice could barely be heard above the crackle of flames.
Lauma looked at him for a moment, the light flickering in her teal eyes. Flins met her gaze, as if looking away would signify his will wavering, and when the silence between them drew to a close, Lauma leaned back in her chair and let out a deep sigh.
“I suppose I cannot stop you… But I don’t condone you spending the night there by yourself.”
“I’ll be fine. Kuutar was safe. Why would I not be? Besides, the Wild Hunt does not haunt your shores,” Flins chuckled. He was pleased that he had won this argument of sorts and took another mouthful of stew before his bowl was emptied.
“You’re safe as long as Rerir doesn’t find you in there,” Nefer pointed out, jabbing her spoon in Flins’ direction.
Ah… Yes. That would be quite troublesome, though Flins could use his silver tongue to worm himself out of any dire consequences. The flowers that were rumored to grow in Kuutar’s domaine were beautiful. Flins could simply say that he was there to pick them, or perhaps mine the Moonfall Silver for himself. His love of all things shiny was not unknown.
“The likelihood that he’s here is extremely low. Who would watch the hoard he’s sitting atop of when every fae in Nod Krai wants their most precious items back?” He raised an eyebrow at Nefer, daring her to make a counterpoint. Conversations with her had been missed, and the debates even more so.
“Spies are not unheard of, Flins. Watch your back,” she shot back as she crossed one leg over the other. “He doesn’t need to be here to know you’re up to something.”
Fair point. Flins’ nose scrunched as he turned away from her. It was about time he left, anyway. If he continued to sit, his sore legs would turn into a puddle, and then he’d never leave Lauma’s home.
As he placed his bowl aside, Flins stood and stretched. His spine cracked pleasantly before he dropped his arms back to his sides and adjusted his furs. Nefer rolled her eyes at the display, but Lauma was quick to stand with him. Flins was sure she was going to plead with him once again, but before she could, he placed a finger to her lips.
“I will return tomorrow… possibly. Either tomorrow or the day after. No need to go looking for me before then, you’ll only interrupt my investigation. I’ll be off now. Thank you for the meal.” Flins bowed once more, making a show of the hand behind his back as he bent lower, and his long curls moved to frame his face before he stood straight once more. Lauma and Nefer were not allowed another word before he was out the door and headed West.
There was a chill in his bones again after he had grown used to the warmth of the fire, and Flins did his best to ignore it. Sliding down a smaller cliff-edge, he made his way across the sandy shores of Hiisi Island and wet his boots once more in the low tide of the ocean that separated the mainland from the smaller islands of Hiisi. On his way in the dark, with only the moon and stars for light, Flins failed to notice the small boat that had been carefully tucked up on the shores of a more southern isle. The wood was darkened by seawater, making it nearly indistinguishable against the darker rocks it was nestled beside.