@grahamdedeus​
Lukaz, in his old age, had grown used to the idea that miracles didn’t happen anymore. Everything in life was planned. Predetermined. Whatever ability he had to overwrite the natural order, however little, came as a result of his luck (or lack thereof) being born with magic. But all it took was that one day in Dele however many months prior for Lukaz to suddenly feel as though he’d stumbled into an astonishing development by accident.Â
It wasn’t just that Graham was a gorgeous, commanding young man. Aladonia was full of those. No, it was something more incredible.
Lukaz’s lost love. Lenor.Â
Graham was him.Â
Reincarnation was a long-held (but never proven) theory among wardens and other mages; necromancy, while somewhat similar, was distinctly different. And Lukaz could not help but believe Graham was living proof that souls could eventually be reborn into new bodies.
He needed to introduce himself to Graham if he were to investigate this possibility further. But he couldn’t let Graham catch onto this ulterior motive. Lukaz knew it was imperative to win the the beautiful boy’s trust; endear himself enough to get close to him. Become his friend. Perhaps become something more.
So Lukaz “accidentally” bumped into Graham, and “accidentally” let slip that his innate magic could be used to help the lad with anything that ailed him. Sure, Dele wasn’t exactly in Lukaz’s jurisdiction, but magic was magic. Just as Graham was surely Lenor.
Months passed, and the two became well-acquainted. Friendly, even. The plan was working, and now it was time for Lukaz to pull back the curtain a bit. Reveal his hypothesis. If fate was on his side, his suspicions would be proven correct. If not, well... Lukaz preferred not to consider the possibility.
He invited Graham to visit his chambers, where the two now sat, mulling over an enchanted pot of tea. (Nothing unsavory; just remaining magically hot without ever getting cold.) Lukaz kept a cozy space, which Graham seemed to respond to just as Lenor did all those years ago. Heavens, this boy’s beauty radiated the room in a way no other fellow managed to do for Lukaz since Lenor faded into a distant memory. He had to be right about this.
“I hope it is not too hot in here for you, Graham—” Lukaz says, noting the mild humidity of their surroundings. “In my old age,” he muses, lightly smirking to himself, “it just seems I am always cold... how is the week treating you?” Could’t exactly blast straight into the planned revelation now. It had to simmer.
