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The scent of wildflowers and grass tickled at Luxanna’s nose as she walked through the field, her head hung low. She was tired, having been helping her fellow mages try to live outside of Demacia and create their own home in the outskirts was a heavy burden on her. Not only was creating a home a heavy burden, but hiding from the Demacian patrols and the news of what was becoming of her home wasn’t helping that burden get any lighter. Her eyes lingered on a purple flower, and she sighed softly as she stopped. She knelt down, observing the beauty of it when someone clearing their throat made her freeze. “Stopping to smell the flowers? You always were one to take your time, Little Light.”
She felt her world stop, eyes wide. She was scared to turn around. Scared to see the man behind her. Scared to confront the feelings she had buried out of guilt and disgust in herself. She swallowed dryly. “Why are you here?”
He laughed. “So harsh. I thought you’d be jumping for joy to see me.” She jumped slightly at his warm breath against her ear. “Although...I suppose we did leave off on the wrong foot, no?”
She jerked away from him, turning and finally taking in his appearance after so long. He hadn’t changed much except he looked more ragged, possibly dirtier...and older. He looked worn down and tired...just like she was. She turned her head away, pain flashing in her eyes. “You betrayed me. You used me. I trusted you, Sylas.”
“Luxanna...you know it was never my intention to hurt you,” he said earnestly, reaching for her, but she pulled away again.
“Wasn’t it?” she snapped, glaring at him as she finally met his gaze evenly. “There were other ways, Sylas...it didn’t have to come to that . To the death of the King...to the destruction of our home.”
“ Our home? That was not my home, Lux. That place was a prison ,” Sylas corrected. “My home is where I make it. Not a place of cages that imprisons me.”
“I...that’s not what I meant, I’m sorry,” she apologized.
“Please...I didn’t come here to fight,” said Sylas finally. “I wanted to make things right between us. I swear...I just wanted us to be...happy. To be free to be who we are, together .”
She frowned, looking at him with mixed emotions. “I...I wanted that too, Sylas. But your means of gaining that freedom...your methods...don’t align with mine,” she said finally. “No one has to die to get our equality and freedom. Don’t you see that we could just talk to the-”
“Little Light,” interrupted Sylas. “You know as well as I that this isn’t something we could just...talk over. They hate us. They want us locked in cages like dogs and if we misbehave in those cages? We get sent to the gallows to die like lambs at the slaughter. Do you not see the problem? Even if we were ‘equal’...they’d never respect us.”
Her frown deepened. She knew he was right. Deep down she knew he was...but she couldn’t give up that hope. If she did...she’d become just like him. But...what if she already was like him? Were they not the same? Both mages...both repressed...both worn and tired. “...What happened to us, Sylas?” she asked softly, and his eyes widened slightly before he sighed.
“ They happened, Little Light...they tore us apart and forced my hand,” he said, blaming Demacia once more for all that had happened. “I never wanted to hurt you…” He reached out, taking a few golden strands between his fingers. She didn’t pull away this time. “...you know that.”
“I know,” she said softly, falling for that silver tongue of his. For a man of strength, he was quite the smooth talker as well. “I...I forgive you, but…” She averted her gaze. “I’m not ready for...whatever...this is between us.”
"I understand. I will wait for you," he said softly as he pulled her hair to his lips, kissing it gently. "Always, Little Light. I will be here waiting for when you are ready."
She smiled slightly. "I know you will be," she said softly as he left her pull away. She started to leave, feeling his eyes on her back, but she didn't turn. She knew his words were true. He would wait for her in that field of wildflowers. Always.