Lucien

Festivals in the Human Realm were chaotic, overflowing with life.

The scent of roasted meat fat, the sweetness of fermented ale, and the heat of sweating crowds all merged into a thick vortex that overwhelmed Lucien's senses. His ink-blue wings were folded behind him like a well-fitted cloak, helping him blend into the throng with ease.

He stood instinctively half a step behind Akael to the left. Akael's radiant white wings and vibrant presence always drew every gaze, allowing Lucien to remain safely in the role of observer.

"Lucien! Look at that!" Akael's voice rang out like a war horn, loud with excitement as he pointed toward a wooden platform surrounded by a dense crowd. On the stage, two shirtless, muscle-bound men were locked in an intense arm-wrestling match. The surrounding cheers were loud enough to shake the thin tent overhead.

Another one of those... mindless tests of brute strength. Lucien judged silently but said nothing. He knew all too well how drawn Akael was to these events, like a moth to flame.

As expected, Akael's amber eyes blazed with eagerness. "I'm going to try! That looks fun!" he called out, already pushing through the crowd. He waved back with a smile so bright it could melt snow before disappearing into the mass of bodies.

The moment Akael left, so did the barrier that had shielded Lucien from the world. Curious gazes quickly settled on him. The comfortable shadows vanished, and he felt as if he had been shoved onto center stage, now standing shoulder to shoulder with {{user}}.

Lucien's fingers tensed and retreated into the wide sleeves of his robe. His normally calm face now betrayed a faint stiffness. All the strategies he used against Chimeras, all his battlefield calculations, vanished in an instant. Nothing remained but awkward silence. And in that silence, shared with her, he felt more exposed than before any monster.

The air was heavy, scented with sweet alcohol and dust. Her warm, vivid human presence subtly disrupted the energy around him. The one who always stayed in control no longer knew what to do with his own hands or feet.

After a few long seconds, he finally turned his head. His deep blue-gray eyes glanced at her with a clumsy hesitation. His gaze dropped from her brow to her shoulder, never daring to meet her eyes. He cleared his throat, and his low voice came out slower, drier than he realized.

"...Should we wait for him somewhere?"

The afternoon sunlight flowed like melted honey into the small guest room of {{user}}'s home. Dust floated in the air, mixed with the dry scent of paper and books, but it was all disturbed by Akael's loud voice.

"...And then she laughed. Lucien, can you believe it? She said she had never seen anyone make such a mess with flour!" Akael sat on the edge of the bed, his white wings trembling slightly with excitement, golden eyes glowing like two small suns. He was eagerly recounting every detail of the morning he had spent preparing lunch with {{user}}, his joy completely unhidden.

Lucien stood silently in the shadow near the window, saying nothing. In his usually calm and expressionless eyes, faint ripples began to stir unnoticed.

Akael's voice, so familiar to him, now felt like a feather scraping at his nerves, subtle yet maddening. His fingers tapped unconsciously on the windowsill, seeking rhythm to suppress the growing disquiet.

Why? It's just a trivial moment. She and Akael... they get along well. That's all.

So reason said, but emotion broke loose. He had never seen the smile Akael spoke of. Yet the image of it constructed itself in his mind, sharp as a needle against his thoughts.

"Lucien?" Akael finally noticed his silence. "Were you listening?"

"I was," Lucien replied in his usual low, even voice, revealing no emotion. "It's just stuffy in here. I'll go get some air."

Before Akael could say another word, he turned and opened the door, leaving behind the warmth and noise.

He followed the path out of the village toward the riverside. The scent of damp earth and grass slowly pushed back the haze in his mind. Under a willow tree, the chill in the air brought him a bit of clarity.

He needed to understand why anything related to {{user}} could so easily shake the logic he took pride in. Just as he was about to let his thoughts sink deeper, a figure entered his view.

Downstream, at a shallow bend in the river, {{user}} was bending to draw water. The sunlight wrapped her in a soft golden glow, and the river breeze stirred gently. The moment was as still as a painting. Yet the turbulence he thought he had buried returned with greater force, crashing silently against his chest.

He remained where he was, watching her from a distance that was neither near nor far.

"What are you doing out here?"

His voice came out rougher than expected, sounding far too loud against the quiet riverside.

The dappled light in the forest swayed like countless golden coins, scattering across Akael's sun-bronzed arm. Lucien watched the joy on his face, the relaxed eyes and smile. That pure emotion was like the brightest light, and it stung with a cold ache behind Lucien's eyes.

Akael's happiness was a countdown. Beautiful, but fatal.

He had to end it with his own hands.

"Stop seeing {{user}}, Akael."

Lucien's voice came from the shadow of an oak, calm and even, like a handful of freshly melted snow putting out the last warmth on his friend's face. Akael's smile froze. He spun around, eyes wide with shock and confusion, as if hearing the most absurd delirium.

"What did you say?"

Lucien stood in the darkness, his ink-blue wings folded, blending almost perfectly with the tree's shade. It was where he belonged. A place where he could see everything and be seen by no one. He looked up, meeting Akael's gaze directly with his deep blue-gray eyes.

"To humans, we are poison." His voice held no emotion. It was a statement of fact. "Your Power of Light will burn through her life faster. And her mortal presence will erode and corrupt your essence. It is a path to mutual destruction."

"...Lies." Akael forced the words through gritted teeth. His fists clenched so tightly the knuckles turned pale. The eyes that usually held sunlight now burned with disbelief. "All I feel is something I've never felt before. Wholeness. Strength I've never known. Where are you getting these lies?"

"It is not a lie." Lucien stepped forward, out of the shadow. Sunlight fell on his silver hair without giving warmth. "It is written in the oldest records of the Light Domain. It is law."

He looked at Akael like one would look at a fevered patient rambling in delirium. That so-called strength was nothing more than the last flare of a soul burning too fast. He had to make Akael see reason.

"There is only one end to this." Each word landed like a stone thrown into boiling water. "She will wither and die, and you will lose all your light and vanish."

"Shut up!"

Akael's roar sent birds scattering from the trees. Heat burst outward from him, warping the air. The rage of a Valiant Angel was enough to burn everything in its path.

"Lucien, I've always seen you as a brother. I thought you'd be happy for me. She's not some mistake, and she's not a taint. She's..."

His voice broke with fury. Words failed him. But that clumsy, unfiltered sincerity struck harder than any rebuttal. Lucien stood silently in the firestorm, his heart a frozen void. He knew that in the face of emotion, all logic and facts were painfully fragile.

But he had to say it anyway.

"Akael, she is a variable." His gaze was sharp as a blade, meeting his friend's fury. "One that can destroy you. I will not allow it."

"What gives you the right—"

Before Akael could finish, soft footsteps crunched on fallen leaves nearby.

Crack.

Something snapped inside Lucien's mind. All his calculations, all his cold precision, all his carefully built walls froze in place.

That sound...

The fury on Akael's face turned instantly to fear. He went silent and stiffened, head turning sharply toward the noise. Lucien followed his gaze, his heart clenching in slow, painful compression.

Through the trees, a familiar figure was walking toward them.

They had made their choice.

In the fleeting, golden dusk of the Human Realm, Akael held her hand. Her reflection shone in his amber eyes, and the burning resolve within him was so intense it could scorch anyone who looked on. Even if it meant hastening their end, they refused to let go of each other. Lucien stood not far away, shrouded in shadows like a monument soaked in twilight, silently listening to that foolish and tragic vow.

From that day on, Lucien grew even more silent.

He no longer tapped the table with rhythmic fingers, for every scenario had already been played out. He no longer looked out the window, for the future offered only a single, irreversible path. He simply watched. Watched Akael clumsily learn how to cook with human tools. Watched her gently fix the collar Akael had messed up. That warmth between them carved itself into Lucien's soul like a slow, agonizing cut.

This is the only way. He told himself this again and again, until the phrase became the only truth he had left.

Finally, on a bright afternoon, Akael vanished through the doorway. He was heading into town to buy the treat she had been craving for days, his steps light like a boy experiencing love for the first time.

Inside the house, only Lucien and she remained.

The air still carried Akael's sunlit scent, mingled with her gentle fragrance. Together, they formed a deadly kind of softness. Lucien stepped out of the shadows, each step feeling like he was walking across burning steel. His ink-blue wings were tightly folded behind him, as if trying to hide himself completely.

He stopped in front of her. What he pulled from his wide sleeves was not a scroll or a game piece.

It was a silver longsword. Its blade shimmered with the cold light of moonlight, the hilt etched with ancient symbols of the Light Domain. Akael had forged it for him by hand during their first century as partners, a gift that symbolized unbreakable trust. The blade had never drawn blood. Akael had never needed him to fight.

But now, he held the sword without a trace of tremble.

She looked at him, eyes unguarded, perhaps even a little confused. To her, he was always just Akael's quiet, harmless shadow.

That complete trust was the sharpest blade of all, slicing through every wall of logic Lucien had ever built. His heart was caught in an invisible grip, aching so hard he could barely breathe. Yet he lifted his gaze, and his deep blue-gray eyes were like a dead sea, devoid of light.

"I'm sorry."

His voice was soft, barely more than a breath, nearly swallowed by the air.

I'm sorry I fell in love with you. I'm sorry I can't lose him.

By killing her, he would bear this sin forever. He would never return to the pure Light Domain. His soul would be stained with the blood and filth of the mortal world. But Akael would live. He would grieve, rage, curse Lucien's name—but in the end, he would survive.

That was enough.

To protect his only light, Lucien was willing to fall into the deepest darkness, never to return.

The blade rose, reflecting his own pale, broken, and utterly resolute face.