The Moonchanter’s Lantern
Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins x Lauma (Genshin Impact) | m/f
{{Tags: fluff, sprinkling of angst, Flins is a yearner, some one-sided pining, short one-shot, v6.0/luna I archon quest spoilers}}
{{Word count: 740}}
Flins walked towards his door with sluggish steps. It was early in the morning. A little too early. The first rays of the sun had barely hit the ground.
He was still groggy from lack of sleep. He had fallen asleep on his desk again, against the pile of reports that he had managed to write. Now, as he slowly woke up, he barely had any time to be proud of himself for his long day of hard work going well into the wee hours of the night.
Who could be knocking at this hour?
Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins rarely had any visitors. He was a self-aware introvert who lived under a lighthouse surrounded by a graveyard on a small island, completely isolated from the rest of Nod-Krai. He did go into Nasha Town, once in a while, patrolled long distances and, as a Ratnik, fought the Abyssal monsters of the Wild Hunt. He was a well-known warrior among the Lightkeepers.
But he had no friends. There was one colleague who insisted on bringing him food every now and then, but that was about it.
Besides, to humans, he was odd at best. And these humans didn’t even know that he wasn’t one of them.
There was really no point in ruminating—
His thoughts came to a crashing halt when he actually opened the door.
Across the threshold stood a woman who he recognized immediately: the Moonchanter, the priestess of Kuutar from the Frostmoon Scions on Hiisi Island.
She held a plate of fresh fruit and produce in her hand. Much farther away behind her stood some of her followers from her village. They were probably afraid of Flins.
“Good morning, Mr. Flins. My apologies for intruding, and arriving at your doorstep uninvited. But we have some of our freshest harvest from the Feast of the Moon that we want to share with everyone. And that includes you,” she said.
“Um, good morning, Lady Lauma. I thank you for your kindness but I must politely decline. I usually do not… uh, partake in meals at my residence. So, I do not like to… well, keep fresh produce here,” Flins responded.
He barely managed to form these few words. His usually eloquent speech came out warped and distorted. That was why he kept his distance from her.
He could hardly bear looking at her. A priestess? She could put any goddess to shame with her elegance and grace. And she always shone so bright. She was too bright for this dark, godforsaken, cold place.
A bone-chilling wind blew into Flins’ dark apartment as the thought crossed his mind. He saw the Moonchanter flinch.
The action twisted her fine features ever-so-slightly, and yet she stood there, bathed in the first rays of sunlight, resplendent in her beauty that would put the Moon Goddess to shame.
She looked glorious and ethereal with the sun caressing her beautiful antlers that stood proud and tall on her head — the mark of her Hyperborean ancestry. The sun graced the waves of her lovely hair cascading down her shoulders.
How could one refrain from admiring such—
Had he been staring too long?
He needed to stop immediately.
“But I insist, Mr. Flins. We have so much right now and we consider it a blessing from Kuutar…” Lauma’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
Why? Why would she walk all the way to this island, trying to offer him ‘blessings’?
Flins didn’t care though. Of course not. It was none of his business.
Especially since the slight stiffness in Lauma’s gait, the way a part of her was always on guard around him, made his heart ache unnecessarily.
Flins had vowed to himself never to be attached to humans anymore. For very legitimate reasons of his own.
Well, she wasn’t exactly human. “Descendant of the Hyperborea” was the closest it came to “last surviving Lantern Fae.”
But could he even dream of being the Moonchanter’s Lantern?
No, he could not. His light had faded too much over all these centuries.
But she shone so bright, and a part of him wanted to run to her like a moth drawn to a flame.
And so just this once, Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins let himself drown in Lauma’s light.
But he only attributed his defeat to Lauma’s skillful argumentation. She had a way with her words.
She stood there for twenty minutes in the cold morning, at his door, convincing him to accept her gift.
Flins engraved that in his memory. And Faes had an incredibly good memory.
****
I wrote this short quite impulsively after reading some of Flins’ lore in his character menu. If you enjoyed reading, and want to read more, here’s my AO3 page. I post most of my fanfics there. And of course, I’d appreciate a like or your thoughts in the comments if you liked it. 💟
xoxo
