"The dragon looked out on the light and darkness, and became sad. It was alone."
- the Heartbeat Cycle. Author unknown.
"Lua-kun? Lua-kun! Where are you?"
Yuma wandered along the edge of the ocean, looking for some sign of Lua. It was odd, usually his friend appeared much sooner. Oh no, what if something was wrong?
Off in the distance, he could hear the wind rustling through the leaves of the forest he and Lua had made a few nights before. This world was looking more and more beautiful by the night. The silvery-purple sand now slowly melded into a field of rustling grasses. Like the rest of the world, the grasses were in varying shades of violet and silver, but the flowers that bobbed in the breeze came in every color of the rainbow, including a few that Yuma had never seen before outside of this world and couldn't seem to recreate with his crayons no matter how hard he tried.
The wide field, with its three-foot tall grasses and the occasional spindly tree that bent and twisted like a carefully tended bonsai, eventually melded into the deep forest. Yuma had built the forest with the tallest trees he could imagine, thick, black-barked things that glimmered like obsidian, their deep purple leaves entwining into a thick canopy above that dove the woods below into a dim, light-dappled silence, with strategically placed branches so that if he wanted to, he could clamber up into one of them whenever he wanted. The roots had been built into small coves that he could crawl into if he wanted to hide somewhere.
It wasn't an empty wood, either. Strange creatures skittered among the fallen leaves and in and out of the brush. Geode birds would swoop among the branches, their tops a bumpy, dark rock, and their undersides a shimmering amethyst. Tiny glowing butterflies rested in trees, looking like Christmas lights. There were squirrel-like creatures the size of cats with long fox ears and huge shimmering tails, dark as night with white bellies, that would scramble up trees and squawk whenever someone walked near—those were Yuma's favorite.
And the most mysterious were the ones that Lua had made: tiny, deer-like creatures with a single branching horn, that looked like shadows outlined in starlight as they picked their silent way through the wood, their lion tails twitching. Sinuous dragons with silver claws and white eyes, that glowed with magic symbols down their snake-line frames. Yuma loved to catch a glimpse of them. He would hide in trees along the black star river for hours just waiting for one to snake its way through the trees, undulating through the air without wings, like a snake swimming through the ocean.
Perhaps Lua was in the woods, then, Yuma thought, and he turned his feet away from the ocean line and towards the field. He paused a few times to chase a butterfly or stare at a new flower that he didn't remember from last time, his thoughts wandering to what he could make next—maybe he would make a mountain range, and a cabin. Lua had talked about gardens once or twice. Maybe Lua would like a garden!
He entered the canopy of trees and the sound of the ocean faded. It was pretty clear under here, not much brush. He could hear the fox-squirrels bounding away, and their irritable squawks at being interrupted. He grinned as he wandered between the trees. Maybe he should make some pathways. Oh! And the pathway could lead to a garden at the edge, and the mountains could be behind that!
He hummed a happy tune to himself, excited about what he and Lua would make next.
Then he caught the glow of his friend out of the corner of his eye, and with a big grin turned and ran towards the tree he had seen it by.
"Lua-kun —" he started as he rounded the tree.
And then he paused.
Lua leaned against the tree, eyes closed, breathing softly, steadily. They were fast asleep.
Yuma stared for a moment. He couldn't remember ever seeing Lua sleep before. He had thought, somehow, that they wouldn't need to. They lived inside a dream, after all...
The crystalline being glowed gently, the light pulsing like a heartbeat across the shiny bark of the dark tree. For the first time, Yuma realized just how transparent his friend really was. He could see the bark of the tree through them. And Yuma could see something in their chest, glowing and spinning and coming apart, like it was made of a thousand puzzle pieces that were all sliding together and around each other, taking the vague shape of a Duel Monsters card at times. The thing was a deep, deep, deep blue, and shone pale around its edges, tiny dots of starlight gleaming with in it and small lights like slow-moving shooting stars swirling around it.
Yuma stared at the object, entranced by its motions. He felt as though he could stare at it forever and never grow tired—he felt as though he were staring at the edge of the answers of everything in the universe.
Lua's eyes fluttered. They opened. Their body seemed to solidify again, and Yuma could not longer see the shifting force within them.
"Oh, Yuma-kun," Lua said, smiling. "You're early."
"Sorry," Yuma said.
"Don't be."
Lua stretched and stood up. Then they seemed to notice Yuma's curious expression.
"Is something the matter?"
"You had a shiny thing in your chest."
Lua blinked. Then dawning realization came over them, mouth opening in a small O.
"Oh," they said. Their brows drew together with a bit of discomfort and worry. "That's just my heart, Yuma-kun."
Yuma's eyes widened.
"I didn't know hearts looked like that," he said in a low whisper. "It's really pretty!"
He stared down at his own chest. He poked at it tentatively.
"Do I have a heart like that?"
Lua actually laughed.
"No, Yuma-kun," they said. "Not quite."
"Aww," Yuma said, pouting. "But yours is pretty."
He stared at the ground for a moment. Then he started to bounce on his heels.
"Oh, I remembered what I was going to say! Can we make some mountains next? Can we? I really want to see mountains!"
Lua smiled, but there was a sort of surprise there, as though they hadn't expected the conversation to change so quickly and easily.
"Mountains? That's a good idea. We should definitely make some."
Yuma squealed with delight.
"We can put them right behind the forest, and oh, we should build some paths in the forest, and I was thinking we should make a garden, because you like gardens right and then I was thinking—"
And Lua just smiled, glowing softly as usual. Yuma noticed, but did not mention, that he could see a strange amount of sadness in Lua's smile...
Lua knew who was standing behind them without looking.
"I don't want to talk to you," they said.
"You don't have a choice."
Lua kept their eyes resolutely forward, staring down the beach. Yuma was running in and out of the surf, squealing with delight. He never got tired of that. Lua found a smile growing on their lips, eyes softening.
"He's not something to be coddled."
Lua's smile faded instantly.
"Nor is he a weapon to be used," they said.
"N."
Lua shuddered at the sound of that name.
"Don't call me that," they hissed. "Never call me that."
"Would you prefer I call you by the lie?"
Lua let out a low, animalistic hiss. It was the sound of smoke and steam curling from between fanged lips, an echo of something that no longer was.
"It's not a lie," they said. "It's not."
"'Lua?' Hardly original. You simply grabbed for the last name you bore during your most recent human life."
Lua stared straight forward, refusing to acknowledge the speaker, eyes fixed on Yuma as he started chasing after a fish that jumped through the water with glistening fins like wings.
"You can't keep pretending. It's acceptable when you take on human form, and forget. But you cannot forget in this form, N."
"I am Lua," Lua said, hands tightening in their lap. "Lua."
There was a pause. Then the speaker sighed. A heavy, ancient sound that smelled of old forest and steel.
"Fine. Lua. You know why I'm here."
"And you know that I will not speak with you."
"...you cannot keep him in your little world forever. I'm here to protect help you protect him."
Lua's hands tightened on their shoulders. Their jaw clenched, trembling.
Finally, they turned to face the speaker. Tall, thin, bony, with waves of white hair that covered the eyes. Human, but not. Lua knew better.
"What do you want me to do?" they whispered. "He's only a child...he's not ready. Not yet."
"I never said he was. But if you want to protect him, you know what I have to do."
"It will hurt him...it will make things hard for him..."
"And is preserving him from that worth his possible death? You know that Don Thousand is on the move. He knows what we've done already, and he'll be looking for him."
Lua drew in a shuddering breath. They could hear the splash of Yuma's feet, his laughter as he slipped and yelped and fall back into the water, only to come up for air and burst out laughing again. He would not look this way. Not until the other one had left. That was the effect the other one had.
Lua's hands clawed into the sand.
"He's not ready," Lua said. "He's not ready to—to lose such an integral part of himself."
"He'll never be ready."
"I won't let him become a tool."
The other one's head tilted.
"Do you really think that's how I view him?"
Lua stared at the other one with cold, unwavering eyes. The other one sighed. A hand ran through white hair.
"You know, he is my grandson. Have a little more faith in me."
"You know very well that I cannot. We both know each other far too well."
The other one laughed. A soft sound, more breath than air.
"We can't bend the rules forever. You know what he has to become. What we...built him for."
Lua's heart jolted. They swallowed.
"It might not be him," Lua mumbled. "There's the other one...the girl..."
"I've already determined that it's not her. And you know this. You've known this since the moment he arrived in your world. It's him."
Lua ducked their head. A small, choked sob escaped their throat.
"He's so young," Lua whispered. "He's too young..."
The wind ruffled past the strange pair. The glowing figure kneeling on the ground, shoulders shaking, and the tall, lanky one with the white hair that rippled in the breeze as though it were made of silk.
"Everyone is young to us," the other one said softly. "And I never said this was going to be easy."
Lua's shoulders drew up around their ears.
"...please be gentle with him," they said, pleading.
The other one looked down at Lua. A nod.
"I'm not a monster. He is my grandson."
The other one sighed.
"And this is to protect him. Nothing more."
Lua's fingers dug into the sand.
"...I know."
Neither moved for a long, long moment. And then the other one stepped forward. Lua did not look up from the sand as they heard the other's ones feet step softly through the sand. They heard Yuma stop splashing. Could imagine him looking up with surprise, blinking with those wide crimson eyes of his.
"Oh!" they heard him say. "I've never met you before! Are you one of Lua-kun's friends?"
Lua closed their eyes and tried not to listen. It was impossible, though...
They heard the soft gasp. The faint attempt to struggle, a splash, a leg kicking at the water as the magic took hold of him and caused him to stiffen him. Lua could see it all even without looking, the images playing in his mind. Yuma's eyes wide, scared, not knowing what was going on, not understanding what was being done, the strange feeling that creeped through him like it was ripping something away from him.
Because it was.
They were taking something so important from him.
And then it was over. In just a few seconds, it was over, although it felt like it had been eternity.
Lua heard the other one's footsteps, and looked up towards the other one. Hands cupped two small lights swirling around each other—one blue, and one red, pulsing softly like tiny stars.
"It's done," the other one said. "I'll take this to the border."
Lua clenched their jaw. They closed their eyes against the tears.
"If he was at his full potential, Don Thousand would sense him in an instant. This is only temporary—you know that. He'll get it back."
"I know," Lua said.
They didn't want to look...but they did, eyes wandering towards Yuma. The boy just sat there in the surf, staring at nothing, eyes blank.
"But it will hurt him...for as long as his magic is taken from him, even the smallest part...it will hurt him. And he'll never know why."
The other one sighed, a deep sound like the wind between ancient oak trees.
"Don't think that this is any easier for me."
The other one remained for a moment longer.
And then vanished. As though never there at all.
Lua remained where they were for a moment. Then they scrambled up to their feet and jogged down the sand, feet splashing into the tide as they dropped beside Yuma, throwing their arms around him.
Yuma startled out of his trance.
"Huh...?" he mumbled. "L-Lua...? Did something happen...?"
Lua swallowed and pressed their face into Yuma's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," they said. "I'm so, so sorry..."