Elion had just left the tent to do god knows what. Hopefully, he wouldn't end up murdering someone else.
But enough about the little rascal—Lumos had other fish to fry.
Man, she really is a beauty.
Man, she really is a beauty. Not that he actually knew what to say to her. He'd used the excuse of gathering her insights to form notes for his future self—which, to be fair, wasn't a lie. He did need that. But deep down, what really intrigued him was the eccentric woman who called herself Keill.
Maybe my incredibly refined poetry?
That had worked on his ex back at the First River… though, in hindsight, that relationship hadn't ended all that well.
Bah, that woman wasn't nearly as stylish or refined as Keill.
Lumos glanced at his clothes. Still the same battered outfit Orm had once given him—not exactly worthy of his supposed charm.
Ah… I want to go back to the First River…
He missed the luxuries he once indulged in.
"What are you thinking about, my fellow enlightened?" Keill asked suddenly. Lumos hadn't spoken since Elion left—clearly lost in thought.
"Well… have you ever heard the legend of Ry?" he asked.
Keill raised an eyebrow.
"No… do enlighten me," she replied, her voice laced with amusement.
"It's about a princess named Ry, who lived in a tower cut off from the world," Lumos began. "She'd been there since she was young. Her only contact with the outside world was through faceless servants—silent, distant figures who brought her food, cleaned the place, and left without a word."
"They never spoke. Never interacted. Just… came and went," he continued. "Ry longed for real connection. She'd been isolated for so long she couldn't even remember what another human's voice sounded like."
He glanced at Keill. She was listening, her expression amused but focused.
"Sometimes, she'd send letters into the wind, hoping someone would find them. Hoping someone would find her… but no one ever did."
"Why didn't she just leave?" Keill asked.
"That's the fun part. She couldn't. The princess was cursed—if she ever left, she would die. At least, that's what she believed."
"How original…" Keill rolled her eyes.
"But one day, she did," Lumos said, ignoring the jab. "When the servants weren't there, she stepped outside. She braced herself for the end. The curse was absolute. She was destined to die. It was foretold as an inevitable truth."
"But nothing happened. The curse wasn't real. It was all in her head."
"Ry explored the world after that. Faced hardships. But in the end, she found what she was looking for. And the hardest thing she'd ever done… was taking that first step out of the tower."
Keill gave him a sideways glance.
"Are you a princess, Sir Lumos?"
The sorcerer chuckled.
"I do have some royal blood—if we can call it that."
"I didn't know I was speaking to someone so important," she mused, giving him a once-over. "Then that outfit of yours simply won't do. Nor that haircut. You need to be dashing. Iconic, even."
Lumos tilted his head.
"Do you have a way to fix that?"
"Of course I do," Keill scoffed. "I can do anything, remember?"
She shot him a playful, dirty look.
"Are you coming onto me, Lady Keill?" Lumos asked with a raised brow.
"Oh no. That would be improper. Your Highness wouldn't deserve such treatment," she replied in mock seriousness.
The sorcerer blinked.
So she likes dirty jokes, huh…
"What are you waiting for?" she said, pulling a stool from the corner of the tent. "Sit. I hereby welcome you to A Keill in Time, the greatest hair salon in the past, present, and future!"
Lumos laughed.
"Best slogan I've ever heard."
"I know, I'm a genius!" she said, rummaging through a drawer.
"My first haircut in ten years. I'm excited," Lumos said wistfully.
"Ten years?! Then you owe me your tale, Sir Lumos," she said, grabbing scissors.
"Certainly. Though I warn you—it's a lot of sitting alone in a dark hole…"
Keill worked with practiced hands, shaping something worthy of royalty while Lumos recounted his time in the Well.
He added another line to his repertoire of titles: Purveyor of Voice.
It seemed fitting considering his achievement of giving voice to a mute princess.
Keill pulled out a mirror after she was done playing with his hair. He looked great.
"You really are a talented stylist, Lady Keill."
"Of course I am. I had a salon once—a thousand years ago," she said proudly. Then her face darkened slightly at the memory.
Lumos said nothing, giving her space to process.
"Well, enough of that." She clapped. "Remove your clothes!"
The sorcerer coughed in shock.
"Didn't you say that would be improper?" he barely made his sentence coherent.
"Calm down, Johnny, I'm not going to fuck you." Her smirk turned sly. "Not right now at least," she muttered.
That sounds ominous…
Nevertheless, Lumos did as told, keeping his underwear on at the very least.
Keill eyed him like a butcher sizing meat.
"Quite the design. Never seen work like this before," she said, tracing the runes on his shoulders.
"Please phrase it with more consideration while you're eyeing me like that."
"Why? Don't you like being touched by a woman?" she whispered into his ear. Lumos could feel her breath on his neck, she was too close to him. "If what you told me is true, you haven't been in a relationship in ten years. And I haven't in a thousand. If anything, I should be the one drooling all over you."
Too… too direct.
"Welp," she said, stepping back and grabbing a measuring tape. "Let's return to your royal wardrobe."
Lumos let out a breath of relief. Or disappointment. He didn't really know at this point.
She measured him with expert precision, noting every detail—no matter how small. Then she moved a desk, revealing a large machine made of black metal, glowing with blue lines.
It had a lot of wires and pipes sticking out, connecting to a screen.
"This little guy lets me fabricate almost anything that I might need. Synthetic, of course—but useful."
She inserted the data and shoved a power cell in the back of the machine.
"It won't be Royal Breed wool like my suit, but you'll stop looking like a homeless man at least."
The machine hummed, weaving threads of light. It took a couple of minutes.
A magnificent black suit with a navy tie, a deep blue shirt, and silver buttons appeared.
It was truly a piece of art.
Lumos touched the soft fabric, still waltzing in his underwear. He dressed quickly. It fit perfectly—as if tailored by the gods specially for him.
"What do you think?" Keill asked with a smirk.
I missed this so much. Such prestige, such style… perfection.
"Simply dashing!" Lumos grinned.
Keill burst into laughter.
"Glad you like it, Your Highness."
"Call me Lumos," the sorcerer said, stepping closer.
She met his eyes—those deep, oceanic blues.
"Sure, Lumos." She grabbed him by the tie and pulled him close.
"I just got dressed and you already want to undress me?" he teased. "At least wait 'til the kids are asleep."
He leaned in for a kiss—but she pulled away.
Oh… maybe I messed up.
"I'm sorry…" she said softly. "I really like you. You're totally my type. But I can't do this to you. I shouldn't have let it go this far…"
"Why?" the sorcerer asked, worried of her response.
She hesitated. Her expression darkening.
"I don't have much longer to live… I don't want my ghost haunting you."
"What do you mean? Isn't everyone here frozen in time?"
"Well… about that," she said. "The body rewinds. The mind forgets. But the soul remembers. And mortal souls… don't last forever."
Lumos felt something twist in his chest, a dull ache that made him want to wince.
"This place keeps the soul in some form of stasis, preventing it from disintegrating into the primordial essence of life, but when the loop breaks…" she continued. "You can figure out what'll happen."
The sorcerer stared at her with a deadpan expression.
"So… everyone here will die?"
"Most of us, yeah. Not your group, though. The soul lasts a lot longer than the body after all, just not a thousand years…"
Lumos went quiet. He didn't know what to do. He hadn't known Keill long—but somehow, he felt like he had. It was scary, how quickly he'd grown attached.
She was just that… the perfect human being. Stylish, funny, bold. Dashing if he might say. He wasn't ready to let her go now.
"Then… if you don't have long to live, why not enjoy your last days properly?" the sorcerer said, though his voice lacked confidence.
Keill smiled weakly.
"I… it would be too selfish. I know what it's like to lose someone you love. I don't want to inflict that on anyone else."
Lumos stared at her for a while, then kissed her ferociously. This time, she didn't pull away.
"That, is a choice for me to make—and a pain for me to bear," he said after breaking away, staring into her eyes. It felt as though he were staring into orbs of living plasma.
Keill held his stare for a moment, hesitating. She sighed.
"Alright, Mister Gentleman. Show me what you can do," she said, finding her liveliness back.
She dragged him to her bed, straddling his chest.
"Let's make this night unforgettable, since you're so set on suffering for my sake."
She undid her tie, slipping off her jacket.
"Stop saying it's for your sake. It's for ours," Lumos whispered, gripping her hips.
***
Elion was sitting by the fire alone, staring into the flames with a hollow expression. Everyone else had gone to sleep—everyone but him.
The tent flap opened. Lumos and Keill stepped out, chatting cheerfully.
"I didn't know the salon A Keill in Time offered an all-you-can-eat buffet," the sorcerer teased.
The eccentric woman chuckled.
"You were more skilled than I expected," she said.
"There's not much I'm not good at," Lumos replied with a grin.
Their hair was a mess. Clothes wrinkled and disheveled.
They both froze when they spotted Elion by the fire.
He looked up slowly, a smirk twitching on his face.
"…Looks like someone had fun."