A gathering is being upheld in Piramida, a celebration on the success in collaborating with the Knights of Favonius. They may be of foreign blood, but they assimilate into the Lightkeepers's faction so smoothly as if they've known each other for a long time. Acquaintance quickly become friends, respects turns into friendship. They bond under the moonlight with the heater toasting them a coziness comfort.

With the Grandmaster losing himself in the merriness of it all, booze in hand and a friend in arms to join, Lohen decides that it's best to keep watch. With everyone mesmerized by the bewitching wine, hypnotized by the sweet inviting smell they couldn't resist, he grabs a glass of juice and stand far from the crowd.

At the edge of the venue, he peeks seldomly to the outskirts. It's not too dark yet not too bright. The moon shines just right for the path to be illuminated as if guiding a poor lost stranger towards their merry little encampment. He smiles a grin. The blessing of the moon reminds him of the wind that Barbatos never so frugal to grace back at home. Even here, the god loves the humans reside in their nation.

He can't help but miss the love he felt from the wind. His heart felt damp from the thought, painted a little bit of blue to render him somber. Perhaps he's a bit homesick, just like the rest of them.

"Enjoying yourself, Sir Knight?" One of the Lightkeepers approached him. Someone on the side of the tall, though his appearance seems grim and gloomy as if the grim reaper inviting himself to the party. It was Flins, one of their most trustworthy ally. And a busybody at best. "It would be much more lively if you're in the center."

"Someone has to watch over them." Lohen replied, "Who knows? Maybe one of those Wild Hunts would want a drink as well."

"You make the most hilarious joke." Flins laughed. As eyes scanned, Lohen noticed his lantern swayed within the glass cage. Its movement seems almost alive, a sentient that dances upon the soul it possessed. What a peculiar color. Must be the work of those kuuvahki thing. "I assured you the Wild Hunts is dormant for the moment. You should indulge yourself a bit more for your hard work."

"Thanks but no thanks." Lohen drunk his cup until the last drop is swallowed. A satisfied sigh escapes once his mouth leaves the cup's edge. "I don't like getting drunk."

"Then, that makes both of us." Flins leaned his glass towards Lohen's, "Salutation."

"It's a bit too late for that, don't you think so?" Lohen snickered, finding amusement in the delayed sentiment. "But fine. I'll give. Salutation."

The Vice Captain clashed his glass with Flins, reciprocating the gesture he initiated. A clang tone resound once meet. A peculiar warmth engulf his body. Relief bathed as the cups touch by the edge. Fingers brushed slightly against their leather gloves. An unnecessary thought popped up in Lohen's head, and a mischievous statement escaped his lips.

"My, this is scandalous." Lohen uttered, "It's like an indirect kiss."

"Then I'm lucky to be kissed by such a beautiful knight."

Flins ran off as soon as the sentence left him, answering Varka's call to join the drunkard's circle. Leaving Lohen all alone, the gears in his mind has finished processing the words he had just heard. He can feel his body getting warmer, as if ablaze by the blue flame in Flins's lantern. It burns him, making a mess out of his heart. Catching him off guard like that, that's foul play.

(I see glass, i see fire, i think lantern, i think about this goddamn fae lol. Flins Kyryll Chudomirovich is ruining me and i need him killed.