Curious Friends
Lumi’s eyes flutter open, the midday sun piercing through the cracks in the curtains. He pulls the sheets tighter around himself before standing in his nakedness to look about the room—Khimi is gone. The open rucksack, the missing clothes, the slight disarray of their belongings.
With a sigh, he crouches beside the bag, tugging at its overstuffed contents. He rifles through it, searching for something suitable to wear, something practical, something that wouldn’t draw too many stares. Yet every article he pulls free seems more revealing than the last. He grimaces. If he showed up in half these outfits, Ennui would never let him live it down. And Khimi… Khimi would most definitely get that familiar, tight-lipped expression of secondhand embarrassment.
Lumi shrugs to himself, absently rolling the golden band on his arm as he snorts. He had never been shy about his body before; confidence had always come easily. But under the weight of scrutinizing eyes, he finds himself hesitating. He recalls Khimi’s words, the way he always knew what to say, how he made him feel wanted, desirable, no matter what he was wearing. His gaze flickers to the floor, where last night’s discarded garments lie in a careless heap; the heavy black loincloth, the golden anklets glinting in the dim light. Hasim had told him once that the outfit was meant for fighters, but others had whispered that it was the cloth of a concubine. He had worn it in secret more times than he could count, standing before his reflection, tracing the way the fabric hugged his form, admiring the way it clung and draped in equal measure. He sighs, shoulders tightening. He shouldn’t care what others think. But still…
Settling beside the cloth, he slides the thigh-high stockings up his legs. The fabric stretches taut, the gold-trimmed rims biting into his skin just enough to keep them in place. With practiced hands, he secures the chest wrap, fastening it at the center with a golden ring that presses cool against his skin. Next, he reaches for the loincloth. The thick, weighted cord loops around his hips, and he knots it tightly at his side. Beneath the front and rear flaps, a snug strip of fabric clings to his form, ensuring everything stays in place. The final piece of the ensemble is the gloves, adorned with a golden ring set on the middle finger, which feel silky against the back of his hand. Satisfied, he rises to his feet, adjusting where needed, fingers smoothing along the heavy material.
Turning to the rusted mirror near the door, Lumi studies his reflection. He tugs absently at his feathery hair, tilting his head this way and that, admiring how the outfit flatters his form. It had felt bold when he first wore it, scandalous, even, but now, it feels like his own. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. I look amazing, don’t I?
Then, with a final sweep of the room, he straightens the bedding and gathers the scattered belongings, ensuring everything is in order before pulling on his travel cloak. He glances back once more, then steps out into the inn’s dimly lit hallway.
At the far end, a young woman with hazel hair approaches, about his age, maybe younger. It could be hard to tell with beastkin at times. Her gaze meets his, lingering for just a breath too long. She stops abruptly before him. “Hey! Hold up!”
Lumi blinks in surprise, yanking the hood off his cloak. “H-hello?”
She shrugs back at him, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her worn smock. “I was told to wait for you,” she says, “make sure you didn’t sleep all day.”
Lumi’s tail flicks, curiosity tugging at him. “What for?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“The man you’re staying with,” she says with a small shuffle of her feet. “He told me to make sure you were… taken care of. That he’d cover anything you ate or drank while you’re here.”
Lumi scoffs. “Plans to keep me in, does he?”
She pushes back her hair, revealing her pointed ears. “M-maybe,” she stutters, looking confused. “That was all he told me. He gave me a few coins to cover your expenses.”
Lumi purses his lips, then leans forward. “How much did he give you?” he asks, his hands on his hips. “I can probably eat everything you’ve got,” he adds with a flash of his fangs. “I’m starving!”
“Not that much,” she says with a light laugh. “Enough for a few meals and some drinks, certainly.”
“I wanted to see the town… but he didn’t leave me any coin,” Lumi groans. “Do you think I could take some from what he left you?”
She hums thoughtfully, tapping her fingers against the fabric of her smock. “I don’t see how it would hurt… but my parents would probably prefer I keep your spending here.” She pauses, her lips curving. “So, if you want to stretch those coins elsewhere, you’ll have to be sneaky about it.”
Lumi’s ears perk up at this mention of her parents. “Your family owns the inn?”
“Yep!” Cleo says proudly, before catching herself. “But anyway—”
“Do you wanna show me around the city?” Lumi interrupts, his tail flicking with his excitement.
Her cheeks flush slightly. “Maybe another time, if that’s—”
“Please!” Lumi clasps his hands together, dipping his head in a dramatic plea. “Khimi left me all alone, and I don’t know anything about this place! It’d mean a whole lot!”
Cleo chuckles, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Iris is leaving soon, so I can’t be gone too long. If you’re hungry, we can just go to the—”
“Alright!” Lumi exclaims, practically bouncing on his heels. “I’m starving.”
She pulls her hand from her pocket and extends it to him. “Call me Cleo.”
“Lumi.” He beams, shaking her hand eagerly.
Cleo shakes his hand with equal enthusiasm before tilting her head. “You said the man you’re with, his name is Khimi?”
Lumi nods, his tail rattling behind him. “Yeah, he’s my… friend,” he stammers with hesitation, wanting to say lover or paramour but holding back.
Cleo dusts off the front of her smock, fishing a small pouch of coins from her pocket. She eyes him with a suspicious grin. “Friend is a funny way of putting it.”
Lumi stiffens, his ears twitching. “W-what do you mean?” he asks, a bit too quickly.
Cleo strides toward the door, pushing it open to let the golden sunlight flood the room. “My parents were talking about you two last night…” she says casually, glancing over her shoulder. “They said you were practically glued together.”
Lumi groans, covering his face with both hands. “I don’t think Khimi likes me talking about that kind of stuff with people.”
Cleo takes a small green kerchief from her pocket and ties her hair up. “Well, you are sharing a single bed,” she points out. “I think my parents were a little… concerned when they saw a beastkin and a human curled up together in their inn.”
Lumi exhales sharply, lowering his hands. “I feel for your parents, but what Khimi and I do is none of their business.”
Cleo laughs, a teasing lilt to her voice. “Don’t worry about it. These kinds of things happen. It’s just… surprising.” She casts him a sidelong glance as they step into the lively streets. “A human and a beastkin? And he must be, what? Twice your age? More?”
Lumi considers her words as they weave through the city, the hum of vendors and chatter around them. “Age doesn’t bother me,” he says, his tone thoughtful. “If Khimi was older, I’d still love him. And I know people assume he only likes me because of some… misguided whim or preference, but that’s not it.” He lifts his gaze, his expression unwavering. “People don’t understand what we have.”
Cleo smirks, rubbing a hand over her freckled cheek. “Whatever makes you happy, I suppose,” she says, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “We get all sorts of travelers here, but I’ve never seen a human and a beastkin together quite like you two.”
Lumi knowingly grins. “We’re different. That’s all. We’ve already been through so much together—”
“That’s sweet and all, but what do you want to eat? The bazaar isn’t far from here,” she interrupts with a glance to the distant market.
Lumi perks up, pulling his cowl over his head. The scent from the stalls in the distance brings smells of the freshly prepared food. Lumi’s nose wrinkles, and he tilts his head back, his tail swiping against the fabric of his cloak. “Sweets… fish… grilled meat,” he lists, his mouth already watering.
Cleo stifles a laugh. “You’re makin’ me think you were starved.”
Lumi presses a hand to his stomach dramatically. “Khimi starves me.”
The bazaar is alive with movement, a sea of colors and sounds as vendors call out their wares. Lumi’s sharp eyes flit from stall to stall, trying to match people’s attire to the lessons Khimi had given him: Sidians in flowing whites and golds, Rhazians draped in bold patterns, and Portatians in simple linens. But Betset is a melting pot, and to him, it all blurs together. They walk through the stalls, Cleo beside him, a curious smirk on her lips.
“You must not get out much,” Cleo muses, watching his overwhelmed expression.
Lumi rubs his forehead. “It’s a lot to take in. My—uh, my friend, she’s a devilkin. Or… I think she’s my friend. Maybe not. Anyway, I think you’d like her—but anyway,” he chirps out, tail lashing, “when she first took me into the city, I thought my head would explode! There’s just so much to see and do.”
Cleo chuckles. “Betset’s not even that big. It’s nowhere near as grand as Rhaz or Sidi. Probably smaller than Porat, too.”
Lumi winces, clamping his hands over his ears. “That’s too much information! Khimi just drilled into my head that Sidi and Rhaz are the biggest cities!”
The scent of sizzling oil and caramelized honey thickens the air as a beastkin merchant calls out from his stall, his round ears perked with interest, a bushy tail flicking behind him. He gestures toward a tray piled high with golden, glistening pastries, each one skewered on a thin wooden stick. Freshly fried, steam still curling from their crisped edges, the treats practically beg to be devoured.
Cleo inhales deeply, drawn to the sugary aroma like a moth to flame. Without hesitation, she digs into her pocket and hands the merchant a few copper pieces, exchanging them for two skewers. Lumi, however, barely acknowledges the transaction, his attention locked on the merchant himself. He had seen so few beastkin outside of his own kind, and curiosity itches at him. His eyes flick over the man’s distinct features: rounded ears, a masked face, and dexterous fingers
“That’s a lottore,” Cleo explains once they step away from the stall, casually peeling a fried dough ball from the stick.
Lumi tilts his head, rolling the unfamiliar word around on his tongue. “Lo-to-re?”
“Close enough,” Cleo chuckles, biting into her pastry, speaking around the hot dough as she shifts it from cheek to cheek. “They’re kin to raccoons.”
Understanding dawns across Lumi’s face. “Ohhh, that’s why he’s got those markings,” he says, dragging two fingers under his eyes in imitation. “That’s really neat!”
Cleo nods. “Not all lottore have them, but a lot do. Most came from Dolmas.”
Lumi takes an eager bite of his own treat, only to yelp as the molten filling scorches his tongue. He groans, fanning his mouth before glaring at Cleo, who merely smirks. “Why did they all come from Dolmas?” he asks after a few dramatic huffs to cool his burned tongue.
Cleo shrugs, popping another piece of fried dough into her mouth. “Something to do with the politics of the Dolman Empire. My parents told me not to worry about it, so I didn’t.”
Determined to finish his snack despite the lingering heat on his tongue, Lumi takes another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Are there a lot of other beastkin in Betset?”
Cleo nods, grabbing another dough ball and giving it a contemplative squeeze before taking a bite. “Plenty.”
“What about aslan?” Lumi asks, his curiosity sharpening.
Cleo gives him a sideways glance, her expression suddenly more assessing. “That’s a strange thing to ask. Are you lost?”
Lumi blinks. “Lost?”
“I mean…” Cleo hesitates, lowering her voice slightly. “Are you alone?”
Something about the question puts Lumi on edge. He hesitates, then wordlessly shakes his head, plucking another scalding dough ball from his skewer.
“No?” Cleo raises a brow, but doesn’t press further. “Well, a rowdy group of aslan came through a few months back,” she mutters, rummaging through the small pouch of coins Khimi had left for him. Her eyes widen slightly. “Holy hells, he actually left you with a decent amount.”
Lumi grins. “He can be kinda cheap… but sometimes he’s sweet!” His mind, however, is already racing, wondering how to pry more information from her.
Cleo pockets the coins and continues absentmindedly. “Aslan are rarer, but we get plenty of pantera and tigre, loads of ikati, lupo and ashva from Loria… canis, too. So many lapine—”
Her words blur into background noise. Lumi’s pulse quickens as an idea forms, and before he can second-guess himself, he steps in front of her, pulling down his hood. “Did any of them have a scar like mine?” His voice is urgent, his eyes locked onto hers. He leans forward slightly, tilting his head so she can see the two, purposeful scars running across his nasal bridge. “One line. Not two.”
Cleo snorts, chewing over his question like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “They all had scars.”
Frustration flickers across Lumi’s face before he tamps it down, forcing a neutral expression. “Were any of them blond like me?” He tilts his head, ears twitching expectantly.
Cleo hums in thought. “Can’t say for sure. I think I’d remember if there were any blond aslan. Most of them had brown or sandy hair, golden or brown eyes… and lots of scars.” She shrugs. “Come to think of it, you’re the only aslan I’ve seen with eyes like yours.”
Lumi growls under his breath, irritation simmering beneath his skin. “How many were there?”
“Eight or so,” she replies casually, chewing over the memory. Then, with a teasing smirk, she adds, “I feel like I’m being interrogated. They went to the arena a few times if that helps with anything,” she continues, oblivious to the way Lumi’s grip tightens at his sides.
He swallows his irritation, trying to mask the sharpness in his voice. “Sorry, I just… wanted to know if it was them.”
Cleo offers a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you’ll see your family again.”
“I don’t want to,” Lumi mutters, barely loud enough to be heard.
Cleo’s expression flickers, but she doesn’t press him. Instead, she gestures to the vibrant chaos of the bazaar. “How about we explore the other stalls? Or,” she adds with a playful grin, eyeing Lumi’s attire, “maybe we find you some new clothes?”
Lumi playfully raises an eyebrow at her comment, feeling a slight heaviness lifted from his shoulders. “You don’t like my clothes?” he teases.
“You stand out, and not in the best kind of way,” Cleo points out. “Surely, you’ve noticed the stares?”
Now that she mentions it, Lumi has noticed the lingering stares, the sidelong glances thrown his way. He flashes a cheeky grin. “See? They love my clothes.”
Cleo scoffs. “Sure. It’s not that they’re trying to catch a glimpse of what’s under that flap over your little lion bits.”
Lumi chokes on air. “Lion bits?!” His face flushes red. “I’ll have you know this ‘flap’ is part of a traditional outfit worn by trained temple fighters. It’s meant to help with—uh, focus! During combat and meditation.” He parrots Hasim’s nonsense as convincingly as he can.
Cleo bursts out laughing. “So you’re telling me… your little butt flap is magick?” She wheezes between fits of laughter.
Lumi’s face scrunches up in embarrassment. “It’s true! I promise, a friend told me! I know how it sounds!”
“Ludicrous.”
“Listen,” he begins calmly, trying to conjure the nonsense Hasim told him when he was younger. “Gold… is supposed to help channel your inner energies. The cloth is woven with special threads and acts as a conductor or something.”
Cleo folds her arms, skeptical. “You’ll have to prove this somehow.”
“I can’t!” Lumi admits, running a hand through his hair, sheepish.
Cleo exhales, shaking her head. Then, in a more serious tone, she leans in slightly. “Lumi… that outfit? I’ve seen it before. The people who wear it, they’re often prostitutes from Dolmas.” She pauses. “You know… like whores.”
Lumi’s cheeks grow even more crimson, and he pulls his cloak tighter around himself. “I-I know,” he confesses quietly. “Well… it may have been mentioned before.”
Cleo claps her hands together. “Right. Let’s find you something else to wear.”
As they weave through the bazaar, the rich aroma of roasting pork fills the air, making Lumi’s mouth water. Strips of meat glisten as they spin over an open fire, skewered and sizzling. The merchant, clad in a vibrant shift, calls out to passersby, his voice warm and inviting.
Cleo haggles with him before returning with a broad leaf piled high with shredded meat. She tucks her coin pouch back into her smock and offers Lumi the steaming portion.
He wastes no time digging in, fingers pulling apart the juicy strands. The fragrant spices of the Desert Cities: turmeric, cumin, and paprika hits his nose before bursting across his tongue in an explosion of spice and heat.
“It’s delicious!” he exclaims to Cleo.
Cleo frowns. “Expensive, though.”
“You should try some!”
“It’s not my coin,” she mutters, toying with the pouch at her hip.
Lumi narrows his eyes at her, grinning. “Didn’t stop you from eating that bread earlier.”
“That was only a few—”
Before she can finish, Lumi smears a strip of pork against her lips, forcing a laugh from her as she grabs at it. “Mmm! It’s really, really good, isn’t it?” he teases.
“You’re horrible.” She laughs, chewing despite herself. “But fine… it is good.”
As she tears off another piece, Lumi wipes his hands on his cloak. “Anything else to see in Betset besides all this amazing food?”
Cleo taps her chin. “The arena, of course. It gets a huge crowd at night.”
Lumi perks up. “Oh… Khimi mentioned something about it. Is it violent?”
“Well, there are usually people who aid the injured during matches, but sometimes they include beasts in the fights,” Cleo explains.
“Beasts?” Lumi’s brows knit together. “That can’t sit well with the beastkin.”
Cleo hesitates before responding, picking at a strip of meat. “I heard there’s a lion making rounds in the fights.”
Lumi stops mid-bite, ears perking sharply. “What?”
Cleo shifts uncomfortably. “They caught a lion in the wheat fields.”
“And they’re going to make them fight it?”
“Yeah, but… it’s a lion. He’ll be fine,” she says, though her voice has little conviction.
Lumi puffs out his cheeks, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. “Where’s the arena?”
Cleo tenses. “Lumi… don’t. You’ll get in trouble.”
He shrugs off her warning. “You don’t have to come. Just tell me where it is.” He shoves the leaf of meat into her hands.
Cleo sighs, lowering her gaze. “It’s in the center of the city, beneath the main hall. You can’t miss it, there are signs everywhere.”
Lumi waves a hand dismissively. “You can keep the rest of Khimi’s coin. Enjoy yourself, okay?”
Cleo shifts uncomfortably. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she mutters.
“I won’t,” Lumi calls over his shoulder, already moving, determination etched across his face. His gaze lifts to the hill before him, and with a steadying breath, he presses forward.
Lumi & The Lion
Betset sprawls before Lumi, its labyrinthine streets and winding alleys weaving up toward the central plateau, where the city’s beating heart rests. Crowded bazaars spill into narrow thoroughfares. At the city’s center, a shimmering lake reflects the midday light, fed by hidden freshwater aquifers. Determined to find his way without asking for directions, Lumi squints at the countless wooden signs cluttering the street corners. Reading had never been his strongest skill, most noble children could probably decipher the script with ease. The thought frustrates him. He’s worked diligently to hide this weakness from Khimi, sneaking off in secret to practice his letters when no one was looking. But now, standing there, staring helplessly at an unfamiliar sign, he curses himself for not trying harder at the temple.
After what feels like an eternity of fruitless deciphering, an elderly woman approaches. Lumi’s ears flatten with embarrassment as he begrudgingly asks for directions. She regards him with a knowing smile before pointing him toward the arena. He mumbles a quick thanks before setting off, his pace brisk, his thoughts racing. The city twists and turns like the maze Khimi said was beneath, its paths winding unpredictably. Nearly an hour passes before Lumi finally reaches the entrance to the arena. A mass of guards and officials loiters near the towering sandstone archway, scanning the throngs of people. Lumi pulls up his hood, clutching the fabric tight around his face. His heart pounds. There’s no turning back now. Without hesitation, he bolts.
He sprints past the looming entrance, his feet flying across the sandstone floor as shouts erupt behind him. Guards give chase, but Lumi doesn’t look back. He vaults down the stairwell, his bare feet landing hard against the stone, throwing him into a stagger before he regains his footing. His golden anklets chime together with every rushed step, a sound swallowed by the chaos in his wake. Violent sounds ring out behind him, boots pounding against the stone, orders barked in clipped tones, but Lumi keeps running. Adrenaline surges through him, burning in his limbs, urging him onward. He dodges through a narrow passageway, weaving between stone columns before ducking behind a shadowed alcove. The guards thunder past, their voices fading down another corridor.
Lumi exhales, pressing his back against the cool sandstone. His pulse is a drumbeat against his ribs. What am I doing? But he knows exactly what he’s doing—he’s going to free the lion.
The corridors stretch ahead in winding paths, twisting through the arena’s underbelly. The walls are lined with murals, beasts locked in battle, warriors adorned in golden armor. One particular painting catches his eye: a towering, horned figure, its bullish features contorted in fury as it swings a massive maul overhead. Lumi shudders and presses forward.
Despite being lost in the darkness, Lumi remains determined in his quest. He follows the path until he hears a loud roar echoing from a stairwell descending further beneath the city. With stealth and agility, he makes his way towards the stairs, his footfalls pattering against the stone in his haste. As he reaches the end of the hallway, two guards stand near a portcullis, their attention focused on something in front of them.
A loud roar shakes the ground beneath Lumi’s feet. He can tell that the lion is in pain. With frustration building within him, Lumi edges closer to the light at the end of the hallway, knowing he cannot evade the guard’s attention for long. One of the guards shifts, turning toward him. His hand drops instinctively to the scimitar at his hip.
Lumi raises both hands, stepping into the dim light. “Please, just let me see the lion!” His voice is a desperate whine.
The guard squints at him, unmoved. “No can do, kid. Go back to your parents.”
Lumi clenches his fists. “But he’s hurt! I just want to make sure he’s okay.”
The guard sighs. “Not my problem.”
The second guard steps forward, placing a hand on the hilt of his scimitar in warning. “We don’t want to cause any harm,” he says sternly. “You need to leave.”
Undeterred, Lumi continues to plead with all his heart. “You can’t force him to fight, it’s not fair!” His voice is soft but filled with conviction.
The first guard releases another heavy sigh and inches the exposed blade back into it’s sheath, his shoulders slumping in resignation. “Listen, just go home. I don’t want to have to use force against a boy.” His tone is filled with pity.
Despite this, Lumi refuses to back down. With one last desperate idea, he speaks up. “I’ll take his place! Let me fight instead!”
The second guard chuckles at Lumi’s boldness. “Come on now, don’t be ridiculous. Just turn around and go home. We won’t bother you.”
Lumi’s gaze shifts to the towering gate beside him, his heart sinking as his eyes fall upon the massive lion inside. The sight hits him like a punch to the gut, the once-proud creature now slumped against the stone wall, its majestic mane matted, its ribs stark against the tattered brown fur. A surge of overwhelming sadness floods Lumi’s chest, his breath catching in his throat as he watches the creature lie there, broken. He doesn’t care that the guards are closing in on him. All that matters is the lion.
“Please, get up!” Lumi shouts, his voice raw with desperation. His fists clench tightly at his sides, and tears threaten to spill over. “You have to get up!” His voice cracks as he pleads again, his words becoming frantic and desperate.
As if by magick, the lion’s emotions echo through Lumi’s being, a sensation that both intrigues and unsettles him. But it is not entirely foreign to him; in his youth, he had experienced something similar in the Dolman Jungle. A bond shared with beasts and beastkin, a deep connection between souls and their animalistic counterparts. The lion’s feelings wash through Lumi.
Defeat.
Lumi’s chest tightens. “No!” His voice reverberates through the hallway. “You can’t give up!”
Desperation.
The lion’s despair claws at his heart, sending a tremor through his body. But Lumi doesn’t relent. He tugs at the iron bars with every ounce of strength in his body, his feet bracing against the stone as his breath hitches. “Don’t give up on me,” he pleads, his voice trembling with emotion, gritting his teeth against the pain.
The guards are on him now, their hands gripping his shoulders with force, trying to drag him away. But Lumi’s will is iron, and he holds fast, refusing to let go. He unleashes a string of curses under his breath, fighting against their pull.
“Get out of here!” One of the guards bellows, frustration in his voice as he struggles to pry Lumi away from the lion’s cell. “Move!”
The guard grips Lumi’s shoulder with a fierce determination, using all his strength to pry him away from the door. With a loud thud, Lumi’s body collides with the sandstone floor, his expression contorted in anger. His lips twist into a snarl, he refuses to give up on his mission to free the lion. But as he stares defiantly at the two guards before him, a glimmer of fear flickers in his eyes.
The first guard steps forward, his scimitar gleaming with deadly intent as he raises it toward Lumi. “You’ve been warned, cat!” he growls, his voice filled with rage.
The second guard unsheathes his own weapon, his stance mirroring his companion’s. “We told you to leave!” he warns, his tone sharp as he stands beside the first guard.
Though outnumbered and faced with blades, Lumi remains steadfast. The tension between them hangs thick in the air, each side ready to fight. It had been months since real rage had bubbled inside Lumi, and seeing the lion weak and starving before him drives him to near madness. His claws flex involuntarily, his hands tightening into fists.
“If you draw those claws, you’ll be arrested and hung outside the gates, right here. Do you understand?”
“Don’t make me,” Lumi growls, his voice low, dangerous.
But his mind is too full of rage to think straight. His fangs click together as his instincts take over. Before the guards can react, Lumi moves, fast, too fast for them to predict. His body surges forward, a blur of muscle and fury. The fighting style Hasim had drilled into him, brutal and unrelenting, guides his every motion, forceful strikes, decisive and without mercy. Within the span of a heartbeat, Lumi is on them, both guards stunned, struggling to register the speed and power of his attack.
The first guard’s eyes widen in shock, but it’s too late. Lumi’s open palm strikes hard against the guard’s jaw, the crack of impact reverberating through the hall. Claws sink into flesh as he grips the man’s chin, sending a spray of crimson across the sandstone floor. The guard stumbles back, blood dripping from his torn skin, clutching his face in pain.
“You’ll hang for this!” the second guard shouts, his voice thick with rage and disbelief.
But Lumi isn’t listening. His pulse roars in his ears, the world narrowing down to the thudding of his heart, the sight of the injured guard. A savage satisfaction builds within him, though it’s only a fleeting feeling. He knows he’s crossed a line, but there’s no turning back now. He growls. “Let me take his place. I’ll be better sport than a starving lion!”
The second guard raises his palm, motioning for Lumi to halt. “I can take your request… the lion doesn’t have many more games left—”
“Games left?!” Lumi shouts. “How many times have you made him fight?”
“We,” the bloodied guard shouts, “didn’t make him do anything!”
“The crowd loves a good fight,” the second guard says plainly. “The lion provided entertainment.”
Lumi’s hands clench at his sides, pulling at his hair in frustration. His tail lashes against his leg with a sharp thud. “This is barbaric! What kind of people are you?!” he cries out in despair.
“And what you just did wasn’t?” he retorts, raising his scimitar back up in a defensive stance.
Lumi shakes his head in disbelief while he surveys the two men. The stories of people hunting lions and even killing them in self-defense were commonplace amongst the aslan. Cautionary tales, Lumi would say. But sport? Entertainment? His teeth clatter on edge, he coils like a viper, ready to bite anything that comes too close. A pang of anger fills him, his eyes shake, losing their focus.
“What do I have to do to prove myself? That I’m worthy of taking his place?” Lumi demands, his voice trembling with emotion.
“You already have. It’s clear you’ve had training and… well, I’m sure the audience would be thrilled to see an aslan… no matter how small,” one of the men replies callously.
“C-can you let me in to see the lion?” Lumi pleads, struggling to keep himself calm.
The guard with bloodied knuckles sheathes his weapon with a sneer. He reaches for a ring of keys on his belt and tosses them angrily onto the floor in front of Lumi. “Go ahead,” he growls. “Just don’t come crying when he tears your bloody head off.”
Lumi scrambles to pick up the keys, fumbling as he tries them one by one in quick succession but failing to unlock the door. Slowly, the lion’s head lifts from the mixture of mud and hay that covers the floor.
Anguish.
“You’re not going to die here,” Lumi cries through the bars. His eyes soften as he gazes at the lion, his expression filled with quiet resolve.
The guard steps forward, barking, “We didn’t give you permission to set him free!” He shoves Lumi out of the way as he pushes his way in front of the cage.
Lumi gazes up at the man’s scratched and bleeding chin, noticing for the first time his age, likely around the same age as Khimi. “I’m not going to set him free,” he says defiantly. “I just need to see him. And if you let me… I’ll heal your face.”
The guard scoffs in disbelief, his hand moving to his wounded chin. “Heal my face? You’re the one who caused this in the first place!”
Lumi raises an eyebrow. “Let me pass… and I’ll heal you,” he states firmly, clenching his teeth together.
“Demands will get you nowhere,” the second guard sighs.
“I’m not demandin’ anything… he needs help.”
The lion begins to stand, his weak and malnourished form trembling as he does. He releases a loud roar, echoing throughout the labyrinth. Lumi turns to the guard before him with pleading eyes.
“Please…”
“Sorry—”
Lumi had grown sick of waiting. Patience has never been one of his finer qualities, especially when something he cares for is in jeopardy. The guard’s words are cut short as Lumi’s fist smashes into his throat, leaving him gasping for air. The sound of the second guard’s steel sliding from its sheath is enough for Lumi to understand that diplomacy and begging is no longer an option. He turns, rushing from the door to the man. The sword moves quicker, much quicker than Lumi expected. The blade slashes into his upper arm, just above the golden armband. He howls, but maintains his focus.
Lumi would never consider himself a strong fighter. Yet, he had often been praised at the temple for his speed and agility, his ability to adapt to situational changes, and the ferocity that he shows when put in danger. His hand surges forward, grasping the arm of the guard who had cut him. A scarlet fervor burns in his eyes. As he had done on the vessel, he whispers that strange incantation, dark energy courses through him. The guard gasps at Lumi, beating at his hand. Lumi releases him from his grip. The guard stumbles, falling to his knees. Like dark tendrils, the veins along his arms darken, the blood blackening in his veins.
“W-what did you do?” The winded guard shouts.
Lumi turns back. His tail slaps against his leg in aggravation. Unsure of weather to save the man or leave him dying on the ground. He knows they are just doing their job, but their persistence leaves much to be desired.
“He’s dying! Help!” The guard shouts. “HELP!”
There is something Lumi knows for certain. This other man at least needed to be silent, at least for the time being. He wishes he had his spear, but he knows his fists would work just as well. The sound of the guard’s cry for help echoes across the corridors. Lumi approaches him, and the guard begins to draw his scimitar, only to have it forced back into its sheath by Lumi’s fluid movements. He stutters, stumbling as he attempts to flee. His boot catches an uneven tile, leaving him flat on his back as Lumi pounces on top of him. He raises his hands in defense, but is too late. Blow after blow lands across his face from Lumi’s balled fists. The assault continues until the man’s shouts finally stop.
“I-I… sorry,” Lumi breathes as he stands over the guard, blood dripping down his fists, his nails biting into his own palm.
The other guard lies on the floor, his breath heavy and uneven, his dark and sinking eyes fixed on him. Lumi approaches him slowly, kneeling beside him.
“I’ll heal you… but you have to promise not to scream for help.”
The guard nods in response.
Lumi’s hand reaches out, a warmth radiating from his fingers. He presses them to the man’s head. The dark energy inside seems to flee the man’s body at Lumi’s radiant touch.
“Your friend’s still alive. He’s a little banged up, but breathing. I’ll heal him too,” Lumi mutters, his voice strained with guilt as he shifts his attention back to the other guard. He winces at the realization of what he has done.
The guard nods slowly, eyes fluttering shut, his head falling back against the cold tile. Lumi presses his fingers beneath the man’s nostrils, checking his breathing. Satisfied that the guard is stable for now, Lumi turns his focus to the other, heart heavy with remorse. The man’s face looks patched with deep welts, his eye swollen shut. Lumi can not help but feel guilty for putting the man in such a state. He kneels behind him, bringing the man’s head into his lap as he whispers quietly.
“I’m sorry,” Lumi whispers, his voice tinged with regret. “It didn’t have to be this way.”
The guard’s lips twitch, barely moving, and Lumi leans closer, trying to catch his faint words.
“They’ll… hang you for this…”
Lumi’s face hardens as he listens, his brow furrowing. He leans in, his voice low and biting. “You know, you could be grateful. I could’ve left you there to die.”
The man’s swollen lips barely part as he mutters, “This is your fault…”
Lumi drops his head back onto the stone floor. “Well… you won’t die now at least,” he whispers, allowing the warmth to fade from his fingertips.
The gate groans under the strain of time as Lumi fumbles for the key, his fingers slick with sweat. The metal protests with a shriek, the iron hinges long overdue for maintenance. With a final push, the gate swings open, its eerie creak slicing through the stagnant air of the lion’s cell. Lumi doesn’t hesitate, he’s already moving toward the beast. He kneels beside the lion, pressing his face into the thick, matted mane. Even though he can see through the darkness, the room is a suffocating black, no light finding its way through the dirt-smeared windows or cracks in the stone. The stench of rot and decay clings to the walls like a disease. His bare feet squelch in the muck beneath him, but he doesn’t mind the grime, the muck beneath his hands, or the stifling air.
The lion stirs weakly, and Lumi pulls him close, wrapping his arms around the animal’s shaking form. “You’ll be alright,” he murmurs, his hands gliding beneath the lion’s chin, cupping its heavy head. “I don’t have much left to give, but I’ll do everything I can.”
A swell of gratitude builds in his chest, and though Ebo offers no response, Lumi can feel it. The bond between them is undeniable, a silent thread that stretches between them, a pull at something deep in his chest.
His hands glow with soft, radiant light, pushing against the thick murk of the prison. “Maybe we can find you something to eat,” Lumi says, his words filled with hope. As the light illuminates the room, it flickers, pulsing in time with his heart. “What’s your name, beautiful?”
Ebo.
Lumi’s lips curl in a soft smile, his heart swelling as the name finds its place. “Ebo… that’s a strong name. A handsome name. Just like you!” he murmurs, pressing his hands lightly against the lion’s chin, coaxing the beast into a gentler repose. “Do you feel any better?”
Though Ebo does not respond, the color in his fur lightens, the wounds across his body gradually close. The scent of rot that lingers on the lion fades with Lumi’s healing touch. Ebo rises from the dirt and mud to turn towards the door. The light from Lumi’s hand vanishes as he turns to look.
“Ebo, you’re still too weak. You need to eat and rest,” Lumi whispers.
Danger.
As Ebo shifts to move, Lumi steps in front of him, hands held high in a protective stance. “It’s okay,” he says softly but firmly, placing his hands gently against the lion’s broad chest. “I’ll face what I’ve done. I won’t let them take you.”
Flee.
Lumi frowns. “Ebo, please rest.” He turns back to the door. The sound of footsteps approaching becomes more clear. Lumi pleads again for Ebo to rest.
Ebo collapses onto the cold stone with a heavy thud, his breath labored, eyes fixed warily on the entrance. Then, a sound rumbles through the chamber, a deep, primal roar that shakes the very walls. Lumi flinches, his ears flattening as he claps his hands over them, his tail rattling in distress. Dust drifts from the ceiling, disturbed by the force of the lion’s cry.
Moments later, the sound of hurried whispers and shuffling footsteps echo down the hall. Lumi stands protectively before Ebo, his eyes narrowing as he braces for whatever is coming.
The first thing he sees is a slipper, a curved, colorful thing that sweeps elegantly across the stone floor before its owner emerges. A tall pantera steps in, sleek black hair reflecting the dancing torchlight. His opulent yellow eyes gleam with something unreadable, their sharpness betraying an intelligence far beyond the easy smile he wears. Draped in a tattered kaftan woven with a dozen colors, he moves with wiry movements, his thick tail flicking lazily behind him.
The pantera raises a hand in greeting, his voice smooth as silk. “We mean you no harm,” he purrs, the melody of his tone at odds with the sharpness of his gaze.
Lumi wipes away the flakes of dried mud clinging to his arms. “Why would you keep him here?” he demands.
The pantera offers an exaggerated shrug, his expression one of careless amusement. “Business, plain and simple,” he says, spreading his hands as if explaining something trivial. “The lion was a threat to the town. Rather than putting him down, we found another use for him. People love a good fight.”
Lumi’s ears twitch with disbelief. “But… you’re like us,” he protests, voice rising. “What if it was a panther in there?”
The pantera’s expression hardens, his amusement fading into something far colder. “Humans kill humans all the time, little cub,” he says, voice dropping to a whisper. “They don’t shed tears for every life lost.”
“That’s different—” Lumi starts, but the pantera cuts him off with a scoff.
“Same thing.” He leans against the stone frame of the doorway, studying Lumi as if deciding whether he’s worth the conversation. Then, he gestures toward the guards Lumi left battered on the ground. “You certainly made a mess of my men. That alone deserves some form of punishment. I’m not one for public executions… but this town?” He chuckles darkly. “It loves its fights.”
“I healed them,” Lumi interjects, desperation creeping into his voice.
The pantera merely tilts his head, unfazed. “At the end of the day, you broke into a private establishment, attacked city officials, and endangered lives trying to free a lion. That makes you a criminal.” He leans in. “And criminals fight.”
Lumi grits his teeth. His hands clench into fists at his sides. “What’s criminal is forcing Ebo to fight for entertainment,” he spits. “Can’t you just let him go?”
The pantera clicks his tongue, shaking his head as though Lumi were a foolish child. “No,” he says simply. “But you can keep him alive.” His smirk returns, sharp as a dagger. “Take his place in the arena. After all, the guard said you already volunteered.”
Lumi’s heart hammers in his chest. His mouth is dry. He doesn’t have a choice. “Fine,” he forces himself to say, his voice tight in his throat.
Triumph flickers in the pantera’s golden eyes. “Good.” He gestures toward Ebo, feigning consideration. “I’ll make sure he’s fed, maybe even moved to a better cage. But only if you keep your word.”
Lumi nods. His stomach twists. “I promise.”
The pantera claps his hands together, all smiles again. “Then we have a deal.” He steps back, curling his fingers around the iron bars of the gate, pulling it closed with a deliberate slowness. “You can stay with the lion until it’s time for your match,” he says smoothly. “We’ll come for you soon.” Through the bars, his glowing eyes remain fixed on Lumi, devoid of sympathy, empty of remorse. “I don’t care for the sight of blood,” he muses, as if speaking to himself. “But the crowd… oh, they love it. Give them a show, little cub. Everyone in the arena is a criminal, after all.”
The door slams shut with a violent clang, the iron rattling in its frame. Lumi flinches at the finality of it. Khimi’s face flashes in his mind, and Lumi groans. “He’s going to kill me…” he mutters, his voice trembling as the weight of his decision begins to set in.
He?
Lumi looks down at the lion, who gives a soft snort and lowers his head to the ground. “Oh, you wanna hear about Khimi?” he says softly, falling against the lion’s sturdy frame. “Well… he’s my lover, I guess,” Lumi murmurs. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Ebo stirs, giving Lumi a soft nudge with his massive head as if to say he’s listening, even if he can’t speak. Lumi relaxes slightly, resting his head against the lion’s mane as he talks for hours, telling Ebo everything about Khimi, the way he makes him feel, their connection, the love they share.
As the hours pass, the sounds of the arena and the life outside fade into the background, and Lumi feels a sense of peace, if only for a moment.