#faelightweek2026

The Lantern Guardian, they called him.

Ending up a folk legend was inevitable for an immortal, Illuga supposed.

It was of no concern. Wild Hunt would not eradicate itself, and he was willing and able, extending his reach to the corners mortals did not perceive. He promised Silvester, after all.

Her Majesty would have probably laughed at him, if only to not dissolve into ugly sobs. They were united in their grief, once.

Not anymore.

And humans… Humans could think what they wanted of a solitary lightkeeper.

///

He may have pledged himself to the cause along with Silverster once, but he still stayed far from his ragtag following of Lightkeepers. Their precious, fragile souls had no business in being near his bloodied, scorching hands.

Still, some run-ins could not be avoided.

- We should stop meeting like this, - Illuga muttered, looking down between their crossed spears, and held out a hand to Kyryll, Wild Hunt's dust finally settling around them.

- It’s my pleasure to fight by your side, Suojavalkea, Sir, - hoisting himself up in one fluid motion, the young man immediately bowed again, kissing the fingers of the hand he did not let go of.

“What ancient literature did you read, ah?”

- Just call me Illuga, - he sighed, looking at the human helplessly. - You will follow me today, right?

He tried just dissolving into light and running away before, after all – only for a guest to arrive at his doorstep in an hour.

- If you allow so, yes, - Kyryll’s eyes sparkled in the moonlight.

“And will look at you beseechingly if you will not,” he translated. That also had happened before.

- …and then I was following ribbons of red fire across the snow… - Traveller was gesticulating wildly, trying to convey the vastness of snowy plains, but Flins felt a breath catch in his counterfeit ribcage; he was not so old as to have memory to fail him, and so instead of woods and metals of The Flagship Snezhnayan landscapes vividly arose with ease before his inner eye.

Only in his memory, a blue fire ribbon ran alongside the red.

…it was good to know that Noy still thrived.

Truly.

Mentally shaking himself, Flins tuned back in to Traveller’s insane story. It fit them well.

///

However, the melancholy brought by such a reminder didn’t leave him, not that day, nor the next, nor even in the presence of his dear young master.

And, of course, Illuga, ever-perceptive to others’ woes, immediately noticed.

- Sir Flins? - they have settled side by side on sun-warmed rocks with fishing rods today, but he couldn’t turn his eyes from the horizon, fire in his lantern dancing far more violently than the gentle breeze warranted. - Would you like to continue the story from my last visit?

A tentative hand on his shoulder brought him a little out, and Flins smiled at his companion:

- My apologies, dear young master, - he had to wedge his fishing rod in the crack, just so the tremor in his hands did not scare their catch away, - I would not be able to do this story justice today, I’m afraid.

He contemplated it for a second and then took an unnecessarily deep breath:

- May I offer a different story instead?

Illuga chuckled, fully turning towards him:

- You know I will listen to anything you have to tell.

- You are entirely too kind to a simple ratnik like me, - Flins shook his head lightly. - Very well…

///

Once, in the depths of the icy wastelands, two embers were born from the same strike of a flint, and for the longest time, lived there in harmony. Chasing each other around, laughing under the unreachable moon, bowing before the palest star.

(- This sounds like something about Snezhnayan royalty.

- Not quite, but pretty close.)

Years and decades could pass in such simple, fulfilling bliss.

However, sometimes lost humans would find themselves in their forgotten corner, and that is where embers differed greatly – where the red one would hide and play tricks on unsuspecting travelers, unwilling to let them any deeper in the territory not theirs, the blue one would come close to observe and play, and show them a way to safety.

Naturally, those who returned told stories in their pockets of the world, and such, a legend grew. But that is not so important for this story.

(- If it’s not important, why mention it?

Chuckle:

- It will become important, merely not today.)

But as it stands, such fascination with humanity drew the blue ember ever closer – and further from its kin with each passing day.

(- …Sir Flins? This doesn’t sound like an ending, even an abrupt one you like to spring on me.

- Forgive me, I have encountered quite a surprising difficulty in properly conveying this narrative.

- That would be a first…)

Many years have passed since then,

(- Now you are just jumping ahead, unfair!)

a lot of snow melted and fell again, and the choice to learn humanity brought the blue ember to heights of joy and depths of despair, almost extinguishing itself far, far from its native plains…

(- You’re spacing out, it’s very creepy.)

The blue ember never really looked back after it left, and yet…

///

His voice drifted out once again, and Illuga squinted at him:

- It misses its…sibling, but doesn’t know how to reach out and if it will be a good idea?

Flins blinked, and then laughed:

- Oh my, dear Illuga, your mind is sharper than a blade.

The human waved his hand impatiently:

- You left me more clues than I knew what to do with.

The Fae inclined his head, conceding the point.

- And you spacing out so much, - Illuga tapped his lips in thought, - the story is not finished yet?

Flins smirked, nodding:

- Precisely.

- Then the solution is quite simple to me, - the human shrugged. - If the red ember is still alive…

Surprising himself, he interjected:

- It is. The news of them were what brought sorrow to the forefront.

Illuga paused, absorbing that, and continued:

- …then it should be easy to just send them a letter – an invitation to meet, if possible, but just checking in also works. - He hesitated, and then shuffled closer, leaning his shoulder against Flins’:

- If it would help, I could add my own thoughts to it too?

The Fae hid his smile in the silver locks:

- I would appreciate your contributions in any form, dear young master.

Palace gates flew open, and filigree permafrost swirls stretched as far as he could see – it made up walls, columns, a few exquisite decorations and, it seemed, even humans.

Not humans, Illuga corrected himself. Fae.

- Welcome to Zapolyarny Palace. Allow me to lead you to your room, - a servant bowed to him, and he turned to wave off Lauma’s worry or Nefer’s teasing – only to come short when a back disappearing in the corridor was the only movement he could catch.

- Worry not, dear guest, your companions have been taken care of, - his servant hastened to reassure, and Illuga shook himself, tabling the discrepancy, and fell into step with them; now was not the time for diplomatic incidents.

- The ball, - ball? - will begin at sunset, you are free to rest after your arduous journey. However, dear guest, we’ve encountered a small matter we need you to resolve – how are you to be announced?

///

- Sir Illuga, Lightkeeper of Nod-Krai!

He winced at the volume and smiled apologetically, bowing to the figure before him:

- Your Majesty.

- At ease, - she nodded back. - Does the border give you trouble?

- Not as much lately, just…

Tsaritsa warmly smiled at his hesitation:

- No need to find words now, you’ll have all time for details tomorrow. Enjoy the celebration.

Illuga bowed again, and awkwardly drifted to the appetizers, curiously looking around. Sea of people, almost entirely Fae subtly giving him wide berth, seemed endless, candles’ and crystalline light alike obscured any possible exits, and it was hard to believe such warmth could hide among the icy structures.

- Lord Kyryll of Snowdrift Plains!

Murmurs immediately erupted around him:

- Oh, Kyryll actually attended for once?

- I can’t believe I’m so lucky, to properly see him!

- Even the Azure Flame craves society once in a while, eh?

Illuga turned to look for himself, and the first thought that struck him was that Lord Kyryll looked…familiar.

He was clad in the attire reminiscent of those around him, including the borrowed suit Illuga himself was in, dark lilac silks and velvets highlighting his allure, but midnight hair, lamp-like eyes and even the way he seemed to loom over the fawning crowd drew a nostalgic smile to his face.

And yet, his gaze held no recognition when their eyes met.

Illuga found himself bowing before he could convince himself that was a terrible idea, if shocked gasps around them were anything to go by.

Kyryll, however, paid them no mind, coming straight to him through the hastily parting flock of mingling Fae, bowing back only then:

- Why such a fetching young master like you hides so far from the activity of the evening? - he picked up his hand to place a chivalrous kiss on his fingers, painfully familiar once again, down to the smirk he offered straightening up; Illuga wasn’t sure he managed to keep exasperation out of his face.

- Lord Noy of… - proceedings did not mind them either.

He could only shrug in response:

- Did not expect a full feast when I arrived, - he smiled, sheepish. – And I don’t think my presence will be all that welcome, my Lord, - the only one who did not give them an odd glance was Her Majesty, and he did not want to bother, of all people, her.

Besides, it’s not like solitude bothered him.

His companion chuckled at that:

- More fools they; I find humans far more fascinating than Fae, and you are an excellent example, young master.

The orchestra shifted pieces, and Kyryll suddenly bowed again, proffering him a hand:

- May I have this dance?

And such, Illuga found himself swept away in the evening of twirling, laughter and impossibilities.

///

The morning mist settled on the rumpled sheets of the empty room.

///

- Your Majesty! - although muffled by the door, confusion and a dash of fear in servant’s voice were unmistakable. - We seem to have a guest unaccounted for.

Illuga frowned. Yesterday’s ball was a little weird, he was not going to lie (Lord Kyryll held a truly uncanny resemblance to Sir Flins, and he found it odd that neither Nefer nor Lauma were in attendance), but he was a legitimate envoy and admitted accordingly. That was just about the only thing, frankly, that went correctly.

Quick glance at the window told him that it was almost noon – just about the time their delegation arrived a day before, in fact. So trade agreement talks should commence shortly as well. And he was already running out of notes to review and drills to run while waiting.

Decision made, Illuga marched out of the door of his guest room – only to be met with rifle to his chest.

- Stand down, - behind the soldier, Tsaritsa waved her hand, amused. The rifle got reluctantly lowered to the ground. - I presume, you are the Nod-Kraian envoy?

- Yes, Your Majesty, - he replied, befuddled. - We’ve met at the evening ball, and-

- Oh! I see, - she smiled slightly, suddenly nostalgic, and gestured for him to follow her. – Let us soothe your companions, then.

Traversing corridors – that looked stripped of already scarce merriment, now that the ball was behind them – back to the entrance did not take long, and they arrived just in time to hear Nefer’s sharp “don’t”.

- My apologies, - Tsaritsa stepped to greet them, and servants opened ranks to let them through, - you can proceed with no concern. Young master here, - Illuga caught Lauma’s gaze, equally worried, and nodded in encouragement, - just went on…let’s say, a temporary detour. It is not transferable by any means.

She inclined her head: