The fire crackled softly, casting a warm, uneven glow across the room as Valeria shifted in her seat, her gaze slowly turning toward Lucavion. She hated the concern that was gnawing her heart, but the words escaped her lips before she could stop them.
“How is your body?” she asked, her tone measured, though a trace of genuine curiosity softening its edge.
Lucavion stretched lazily, his arms behind his head. His smirk reappeared. “It’s well, all thanks to our dear healer. Miss… uh, what was her name again? Never got it, actually.” He chuckled. “But she did a great job. Most of the pain is gone, though my core’s still a bit shaky, though—needs a day or two, I’d guess.”
Valeria nodded, her brow furrowing slightly. “You should’ve told me if you were in such a state. Fighting in that condition could’ve been reckless.”
“Could’ve been?” Lucavion tilted his head, mock confusion lacing his voice. “I thought recklessness was part of my charm, wasn’t it?”
Valeria shot him a withering look, but her focus quickly shifted, a memory from his last fight surfacing. “Those black flames you used… what are they? I’ve never seen anything like them.”
Lucavion’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a contemplative expression. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “They’re part of my mana accumulation art,” he said simply, his voice unusually steady.
“I understand that much,” Valeria tilted her head, her lips pressing into a thin line as she considered his answer. “But… there’s something strange about them. Why are they so cold? It’s… unnatural.”
Lucavion chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Cold, huh? You’re not the first one to say that. Most people expect the fire to burn, to sear. But my flames… they’re different. They draw from a… different source.”
“And that source is?” she pressed, her gaze steady.
“It is a…..”
“It is a…” He paused, his smirk returning.
“Secret.”
“You!”
Lucavion burst into laughter, warm and full-bodied, echoing through the room, shaking off the usual veneer of mockery. It sounded so genuine that Valeria blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His laughter filled the space between them, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he leaned back in his chair.
“Your face, Valeria,” he managed while still in between chuckles, “absolutely priceless. I wish I could capture that look forever.”
She scowled, arms crossing tightly over her chest. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” he teased, his grin widening, “here you are. So, go on. Guess.”
Valeria narrowed her eyes, feeling the familiar mix of irritation and exasperation that always accompanied Lucavion’s antics. Still, there was something oddly disarming about him in moments like these. She felt a faint tug of relaxation—a sense of ease that she couldn’t quite put into words.
‘Why do I feel like this around him?’ she couldn’t help but wonder. She knew that wasn’t comfort to be exact. It was… soothing, maybe? She didn’t know the right word, but whatever it was, it would leave her oddly at peace.
Shaking off the thought, Valeria straightened in her seat, her expression sharpening as she tried to focus. “Fine,” she said briskly. “If you insist. A fire that’s cold and… destructive.” Her brows furrowed as she tried to piece the information together. “I don’t know, Lucavion. How am I supposed to guess that?”
“Take your time,” he replied, his tone dripping with amusement. “I’ll wait.”
She glared at him, her mind racing. It made no sense—flames that devour without heat, one that would chill instead of burn. No matter how she twisted the logic, her mind refused to settle into anything coherent. After letting out a frustrated sigh, she finally leaned back in her chair and waved her hands in defeat. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com
“I don’t know,” she admitted reluctantly. “How am I supposed to know something so ridiculous?”
Lucavion raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something akin to genuine surprise. “Heh?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “The great Valeria Olarion, admitting she doesn’t know something? Never thought I’d live to see the day.”
“Don’t push your luck,” she snapped, her cheeks tinged with the faintest blush. “I don’t have the time to entertain your riddles.”
“Relax, Valeria,” Lucavion chuckled, leaning back with his usual ease. “I wasn’t expecting you to figure it out. It’s not exactly common knowledge. But,” he added, his tone turning more contemplative, “I like that you tried.”
She frowned at his words, her irritation giving way to a flicker of curiosity. “You like that I tried?”
He nodded, his grin softening. “Most people wouldn’t bother. They’d brush it off, call it nonsense, or just pretend they already knew. But you? You actually thought it through. I respect that.”
Valeria blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice, unsure how to respond, so she simply looked away, her gaze settling on the flickering flames in the hearth.
Lucavion leaned forward again, the usual playful glint in his eyes giving way to something quieter, more reflective. “My fire,” he began, his voice lower now, “is something only I can wield in this world.”
Valeria’s eyes narrowed, skepticism immediately sharpening her tone. “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re just throwing cryptic nonsense at me now.”
His smirk didn’t falter, but there was a faint seriousness beneath it, a shadow of something deeper. “It means exactly what I said. My flames are the accumulation of two forces: [Life] and [Death].”
Her breath caught and confusion flickered across her face. “Life and death? What does that even mean?” She straightened in her seat, disbelief edging her tone. “You’re talking as if you’re some kind of… anomaly. Humans don’t command death, Lucavion. That’s black magic territory.”
“Ah, black magic,” he mused, tilting his head slightly as he studied her reaction. “You’re not wrong—black magic does dabble in death energy. But what I do? It’s nothing like that.”
Valeria frowned, her thoughts racing to piece together his words. “Black magic doesn’t harness death energy in the mage’s core,” she said slowly, her voice tinged with caution. “Because it’s impossible to do so. Death mana is inherently incompatible with a living body—it can’t be contained or cultivated. So whatever you’re claiming doesn’t make sense.”
Lucavion chuckled softly, his sound almost resigned. “You’re right again, in theory. Death mana isn’t something a living being can control, at least not without paying a heavy price. But my flames… they’re different.”
“How different?” she pressed, her voice now sharper and a strange unease prickling at the back of her mind.
He leaned back, his gaze distant as he stared into the fire. “The flames are born from balance,” he said quietly. “From the tension between life and death within me. Life provides the fuel, the foundation. Death offers the void, the consuming force. Together, they create something… unique.”
Valeria stared at him, disbelief mingling with a rising sense of unease. His words defied every fundamental truth she’d been taught about mana, magic, and the human body. “That’s impossible,” she said firmly. “You can’t just… balance life and death like that. It’s not natural.”
“Who said I’m natural?” Lucavion replied, his smirk returning, though it lacked its usual edge.
Her heart skipped a beat at his words. For the first time, she couldn’t tell if he was joking. His gaze, steady and unflinching, seemed to challenge her, daring her to probe deeper.
“What are you?” she whispered, almost to herself. But even as the question slipped her lips, she wasn’t sure whether she wanted the answer.
Lucavion’s chuckle broke the heavy silence, warm and rich as he leaned further back. His smirk widened, now tinged with a playful edge. “What am I?” he echoed, the words lingering in the air. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “That, Valeria, is for you to discover.”
Her breath hitched for a moment, the weight of their exchange still hanging over her. But as his playful tone registered, a wave of irritation swept through her. Her jaw tightened, and her narrowed eyes flashed with anger.
“You!” she snapped, sitting up straighter. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you? I knew it! This whole ridiculous story about balancing life and death—it’s just another one of your games.”
Lucavion grinned, his amusement deepening. “Believe what you will, Lady Valeria. What you choose to believe is entirely up to you.”
She opened her mouth to retort but found herself hesitating. Everything about his demeanor—the smirk, the tone, the casual shrug—screamed that he was toying with her. And yet… there was something in his earlier tone, a flicker of something too genuine, too heavy to be dismissed as a mere teasing.
Her hands clenched into fists on her lap, her frustration mounting. “If you’re going to spout nonsense,” she said sharply, “at least make it believable.”
“Believable?” Lucavion arched an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Now, that’s an interesting demand. But tell me, what counts as believable, Valeria? The limits of what you’ve seen? What you’ve been taught? Or something else entirely?”
His words struck a nerve, and Valeria clenched her teeth. “Don’t lecture me,” she snapped, though her voice wavered. Deep down, a small voice whispered that he wasn’t entirely wrong.
Lucavion chuckled again, softer this time, as though he could sense the storm of doubt swirling within her. “Whether you believe me or not,” he said lightly, “changes nothing. But here’s a thought—sometimes, the truth isn’t about what makes sense. Sometimes, it’s about what feels right.”
Valeria frowned as he leaned back in her chair, her thoughts churning. She wanted to dismiss his words, to write them off as yet another attempt to provoke her. But his calm, deliberate tone lingered in her thoughts, leaving her unsettled.
She wanted to believe that he was joking. She needed to believe it. And yet, a tiny part of her heart, treacherous and insistent, whispered that he wasn’t.
But there was no way to prove it. No way to know for sure. And that, more than anything, made her blood boil.
“Bastard,” she muttered under her breath, her gaze fixed firmly on the fire. But her tone lacked venom, and her thoughts a tangled mess. Lucavion, ever the enigma, simply smiled.
KNOCK!
Just then the sudden knock at the door cut the tension.
