Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Vivi was running. This wasn’t how it was supposed to have been. Spirits shouldn't have been chasing her. Three of them at that. And one of them was silvery white. That should've been impossible. Those types were the good kind. 

She called upon the stone in the ground. With a harsh crack, it broke through the earth. She glanced back to see that the spirits couldn’t pass through it. They would go around it. This had bought her a few moments. 

She used them to veer off in the direction she actually had to go. Perhaps those on patrol would help her. 

Or they’ll leave me here to die, Vivi thought. That wasn’t unlikely. Less problems that way. 

She looked back to see that the white fox was getting very close. Vivi pulled on the rock, forced it into the ground again and brought it to her. That might snag on a few roots, but the trees wouldn’t get too damaged from it. 

Vivi made the rock rise from the soil and curl around the spirit. Amazingly, it worked. Was that her new magic? 

Then she tripped on a gnarled root on the ground. Her face scraped against the trunk it belonged to. 

Then something bit down on her ankle. She screamed and kicked out. The panther didn’t move. 

She brought out a stone blade and aimed for its head. It passed right through. 

Of all the times for the new magic to fail. She scrambled away as fast as she could. It didn’t let go. Cold shot up her leg. Then the third spirit came. It lunged, aiming for her neck. She thrust out her hands.

The deer whined when she touched it. It transformed from dark red to pale pink. Then it began to attack the panther. 

Vivi caught sight of her hands. Her skin was glowing. She thrust them towards the panther. It snarled. The places where she touched it turned light green, but the beast did not stop digging its teeth into her leg. Somehow, that pain didn't come, but she didn’t dwell on the wound. 

Instead, she grabbed it and yanked it away from her ankle. A revolting sound filled her ears. From the leg, not the animal. She felt the pain then and shrieked. 

The panther was on its feet, but at a distance. More of it was a pale green, but still only in the form of her hands. 

Vivi glanced at them then. Her skin didn’t glow as brightly as it had before. 

The deer beside her had bowed its head, but did not attack. Would it wait until she attacked? She could handle pain, but a ruined leg could only do so much. She definitely wouldn’t be able to run. For a first true encounter with evil spirits, this was likely not the best. 

The space around her brightened. 

“Get down!” a light voice shouted. The air grew hot then. 

Vivi did. She reached out for the deer as well, pulling it close to her. It warmed the chill that’d settled over her body. She’d barely noticed that, but she did now. Just as she was well aware of the pain that was her leg. 

Flames passed over her head. They struck the panther. It shrieked, a sound Vivi had only ever heard from prey when it’d been caught by its hunter. 

A figure leaped over her, a shining blade in their hand. They threw it at the spirit. Vivi watched as it sank into the creature’s side. The panther froze, despite still being on fire. 

Then the flames disappeared, leaving only the blade. That began to dissolve. Pale green spread all across the panther. The transformation was complete when its eyes turned from grey to yellow. It lay down on the forest floor. 

The one who’d landed the final blow turned to look at her. She had pale gold hair and very peculiar eyes. One was blue, the other pure white. Her skin glowed far brighter then Vivi’s did, even when she’d lost control of it. 

She knelt down in front of her, pulling out a waterskin in the same moment. It was a crude-looking thing, but it didn’t seem to leak. “Got you good.” Her voice was a lot deeper than the first one Vivi had heard. 

She looked around then, seeing another pale-haired girl by the fox. It was still encased in stone. 

“This isn’t normal,” the one closest to her said. “Them taking a bite out of you. The attacking part is.”

“And that?” Vivi nodded to the fox. “I thought light meant they’d never attack.” 

The girl’s expression shuttered. “It shouldn’t,” she nodded, “but that doesn’t change the fact that it attacked.” Slowly, the light faded from her left eye. It turned the blue of the other.

Then she started carving something into the ground beside Vivi’s mangled ankle. She did it while pouring water over the wound, washing it out. It stung, but somehow soothed. There was something else in that water. 

“Is it because,” Vivi trailed off, “because I’m not like you?” Of course they could sense she wasn’t like the rest. That she wasn't a full-blooded elf. She likely only had half the connection they did to the moonlight.

“No,” the other girl had come, “three attacked, because you were alone.” The light also faded from her left eye. Both her eyes were now a glistening red. “And they sensed that you're not fully connected to the moon” she sighed, “but they've been getting stronger anyway. We don’t know why.” 

“I’m Jinsoul,” the blue-eyed girl said. “She’s Jungeun. We were supposed to be the ones to greet you.” Her brow furrowed. “Tomorrow.” 

“I was running here anyway.” Vivi didn't explain why. 

The elf looked like she wanted to ask more, but then the red-eyed one—Jungeun—tapped her arm. Jinsoul continued with her work on the ground. Vivi saw now that she was drawing a symbol. 

“You use sigils as well?” Vivi asked. 

“We don’t,” Jungeun said. “But she does.” She seemed proud, but that left her eyes quickly. “The deer,” she began, looking at it, “did you know you’d be able to change it?”

Vivi saw that it was no longer struggling. “No.” For the past hours, she’d acted on instinct. 

“Don’t worry,” she smiled then, “you’ll have four possible teachers for it.” 

Jinsoul gently moved Vivi’s ankle to the carved soil. She completed the sigil, which made Vivi's leg warm. Water flowed from the skin of its own accord, wrapping itself around her ruined skin. It became firm without freezing. It remained warm. The water shone in places it shouldn’t have.

That was impossible. The lunar elves didn’t control water, nor could they fire. 

“It'll be a lot to take in,” Jinsoul squeezed her arm, “but unlike the rest, we have a small idea of what you’re going through.” 

The mismatched eyes, their elemental magic, and the sigils. 

“You were also tied to the moon later.” 

“Later, destined for it, something," Jungeun waved a hand, “but it was definitely a surprise.” 

Together, the two elves pulled her to her feet. The deer had remained at her side. 

“Does that usually happen?” Vivi pointed at it. The spirit had strangely inquisitive eyes. Spirits were supposed to be sentient. They could only wander around or attack. Then again, Vivi had seen that spirits weren’t acting as they were supposed to anyway, so it didn't exactly matter. 

“Sometimes,” Jinsoul said. “Some think they have a drive to protect, others just think it’s a reflexive act to attack whatever’s still opposed to it.” 

“And you?” 

Jinsoul shrugged. “Would you abandon the person who helped you? If they were still in danger?”

“I hope I wouldn’t.” 

Jinsoul’s brow rose. “Why say that?” She exchanged a look with Jungeun. 

“One doesn't know their limits until they're tested.” Vivi thought of her departure, of the eagerness to see her gone. No, no one knew what they were capable of until forced to act. 

Jungeun hummed. “Got that right.” Her eyes darkened. 

They paused by the fox. Up close, Vivi saw that the animal had a surprisingly angry look to it. She also that the stone surrounding it was glowing. 

“So that’s moonlight?” Vivi asked. “In the rock?”

“Basically,” Jungeun replied. “It restrains these types, but doesn’t seem to do anything other than that.” 

“You can’t turn them,” she hesitated, “normal?” What was normal supposed to be? The elves dealt with spirits, not the fae. That hardly encompassed halflings and yet here she was. 

“Not yet,” she sighed, “the best we can do is force them to flee. Overpowering it like you did does do the trick.”

“But we’ll get to a safe distance first,” Jinsoul said. “Do you have a lot of range?”

Vivi only nodded. She didn’t need to explain that to them now. Would she ever? Did they care?

“Good.”

They started walking. The girls were strong, far more than Vivi was. They essentially carried her without protest. 

“You didn’t tell us who you were,” Jungeun glanced at her, “and don’t go into a long explanation about which clan you’re from and all that. Just a name.” 

“Viian.” The deer, now seemingly content that there was no threat around them, pranced away. It disappeared between the trees. Vivi was sorry to see it go. 

It earned her a smile. “Now you can tell us the clan. If you want.”

“I don’t,” Vivi said. “Perhaps another time.” 

Understanding flashed in her red eyes. 

“Then another time,” Jinsoul said. “Take as long as you need.” She flashed her a gentle smile. “You’re one of us now.” 

Vivi nodded, but a part of her felt heavy. 

You’ll have four possible teachers for it. 

That meant these two and another, in an entire group of elves blessed by the moon from birth. She wanted to be hopeful, but there was plenty of reason not to be one of them. Perhaps the elf had meant what she said, but Vivi had also, as they’d said, been chosen later. What would that mean to the elves? 

Chapter Text

Stealing from the humans was easy. She barely distinguished between the ones she'd already taken from. No matter what country they were from rich mortals blended together in Olivia's mind. She'd not bothered with learning the differences, the names of the countries, or any of their languages. None of it mattered. 

The only difference was the scent of food that wafted through the halls. Almost each house made her hungry, but she wasn’t supposed to sneak into the kitchens. No. She was supposed to get into the library, then the office. 

Already she’d been in the library, getting the information they'd asked for. Now she crept down the hall, clinging to the shadows. It was almost funny how the very thing that had ruined her life was what helped her now. A more optimistic part of her would say the darkness had made her current life more bearable. 

She reached the right door. It opened easily, its hinges regularly oiled. Another luxury these mortals thought benefited them when it helped thieves more than anything. Olivia knew well enough how difficult it was to sneak into a shack without carpets or stone floors. 

She slipped into the study, searching for any disruptions to the shadows. Spirits rarely crossed the paths of mortals. Why, she didn’t know. But with her being there, they’d be drawn to her. It wouldn’t matter if they were dark or light. 

Once she found what she needed, she folded the papers carefully, before tucking them into her pockets. She’d sewn the garment herself, making sure it’d have places to store what she took without them falling out in a fight.

In the drawer were keys as well, including the one that matched the drawing they’d given her. She slipped it from the ring. She’d never needed to use one, but the people who'd sent her did. If she wasn't breaking a door down, she could recreate the right key with the darkness. 

The people who’d sent her didn’t need to know that. They’d paid her enough to even try breaking in. She’d get even more for the key. 

She did a once-over of the study. On the far end was a long bookshelf that rose to the ceiling. There’d practically never been a word about her before, but now the humans wrote of her. They were only brief sightings and primarily based on rumour, but they all talked about her. 

She shook the thoughts from her head and opened the other drawers of the desk. There were no stray coins. Of course not. With how neatly it was kept, there was probably a log on how many pieces of silver and gold were owned. Were they counted every week?

And if she took something, maybe the staff would be accused of thievery. Already, the theft of the key would raise enough suspicion. She wouldn’t make it worse for them. They were paid little enough already, and losing a job like that was hard for humans. If she lost a job, she only needed to go to the next town or region. 

Olivia went to the window. There were guards all across the grounds. Had this been a job that needed to attract attention, she would’ve needed to fight them. She was glad this was one that needed secrecy. 

She placed a hand on the outside wall, letting shadows bloom beneath her fingers. They coalesced into two handholds. Olivia climbed out of the window, closing it as best she could. She scaled the building, thankful for both the night and her abilities. Was it ironic? Probably. 

She reached the top and sat down. 

The moon was only a thin crescent tonight. She liked it better that way. She liked it even more when it wasn’t there at all. On those nights, she felt exposed. It almost felt like the pale orb in the sky was mocking her. Those were the days when the last years caught up with her.

She let the night wash over her in that moment. She’d been tense getting past the guards, wanting nothing more than to avoid a confrontation. Fights were simple, yes, but they’d become too easy. It was almost effortless for her to ram her elbow into someone’s face. She barely hesitated to break a bone. 

Olivia sighed. Thinking wouldn’t help her off this roof. She crept to the other side, finding the lamps of a permanent guard post on the ground below. She fought another sigh. 

She found a spot between two groups who’d decided they could have a chat. At least while all six of them kept an eye on the perimeter. She’d use the shadows of the smaller wall, set off a distraction, and then get away. 

She was about to start her descent when she felt a familiar wave of sickness. Then there was a shout of alarm. 

Olivia cursed and turned around. The spirits had gone straight to the guard post. These were the worst of the spirits: bright and aggressive. Mortals and elves alike didn’t expect an attack from bright spirits until it was too late. 

Olivia always expected it. Bright spirits, no matter if good or bad, almost always attacked her. 

She ran for the edge. She summoned two daggers as she did. 

When she got to the edge, she saw a light green wolf circling a man on the floor. He gripped a glowing hand, his eyes wide with terror and pain. He let out a strained whine each time it came closer. A white hound had backed four guards right by the house they usually stayed in. They had drawn their swords, but didn’t look like they knew what to do. 

The other guards who’d come had stopped in their tracks. Their minds wouldn’t know what to make of it. To them, spirits were just from superstition. Be out too late, you’ll attract bad spirits. Betray someone, you may be cursed and turned into an evil spirit. It went on. Useless information.

Olivia threw both her blades, first at the wolf, then at the hound. Both struck their flanks. As the daggers melted into the spirits, their skin turned dark green and grey respectively. 

Both spirits let out harsh howls. The wolf made to complete its attack on the one guard. 

Olivia leapt down from the roof, tackling it to the ground of cobblestone. It hurt, burning her skin where she touched it. 

She forced a new blade into the side of its head. It let out a whine and stayed on the ground. 

When she straightened, she barely had time to register the hound coming at her. She dodged left, stumbling as she did. She steadied herself. Her left hand was near the shadow of a currently terrified young man. She said a silent apology and took it.  

She barely heard his scream as she turned to face the spirit. She forced it to form a stake as the hound lunged. She drove it into its mouth, trying not to dwell on the yowl of pain. 

Words were spoken to her once the spirit turned. The language of the area. She didn’t know it, but they sounded afraid and confused.

Olivia only shook her head at whatever he said. Perhaps it was, what was that? Who are you? What did you do? Will there be more? 

If she was lucky, there’d be more talk on surviving this night than there was about being attacked.

Except that had never happened. They always spoke of a girl who wielded darkness as a weapon, was surrounded by cold air. Every pale spirit she touched turned dark.

Said spirits were standing idly now, only regarding the guards with curiosity, as if they hadn’t nearly killed them. 

Olivia looked to the one whose hand still glowed. He wasn't touching it, but there were tears running down his face.

She hesitantly held out a hand, pointing at his. 

He looked between her and the glowing hand. Would he deny her help out of fear? Or just stomach that and accept it. 

He then nodded, saying something else she couldn’t understand. Was he speaking to the rest? 

Olivia just took his hand, absorbing the light. It made her hand feel warm and she wanted to retch. The light of these new spirits was corrupted. How, she still didn’t know. All she knew was that she could destroy the light if she absorbed it and that it made her feel sick. 

Some of them murmured, words gentle, perhaps even with a degree of wonder. None of them had run off to alert someone. They were either focused on her or transfixed by the now peaceful spirit. None were attacking her either.

When all of it was absorbed, there was only the bite mark. She might have been able to heal him, but if giving light to humans was frowned upon, giving them darkness was even worse. Even using actual healing magic wasn’t accepted.

Olivia walked away. She heard them call something out, maybe wait, but she didn’t stop to listen. She's stay a mystery. She'd become another story. 

The two spirits followed. A dark green wolf and a grey hound. It could’ve made for a lovely mortal painting. She wondered if any of those guards had a creative flare in their mind. She’d always appreciated that about mortals. 

She let the darkness cloak her some more. If they tried to follow, she’d have disappeared for them. Perhaps they’d be able to tell a difference in the air, but that would unsettle them more than anything. 

Olivia sighed. She’d still be getting her pay, but if this particular story reached the wrong ears, she’d have to go somewhere else. And if the others heard it, she'd get a scolding.

They sometimes acted like attracting spirits was something she could control. The spirits were drawn to immortals, to darkness, and any person in some sort of conflict, be it emotional or otherwise. They liked anger most of all. 

No, Olivia couldn’t stop spirits from coming to her. Being out in the open, she was a beacon for all spirits. The moon, and its followers, had all made sure of that. 

Chapter Text

Hyunjin always fought calmly. She never saw it as a game like some did. She only kept her expression blank and her gaze focused. 

The moment Heejin blocked Hyunjin’s blow, she could only watch as a spark entered the other’s gaze. She'd found an opening. 

The only thought Heejin had then was, damn.

Hyunjin closed the distance between them, driving her shoulder into Heejin’s chest. It was a weak blow, but she still stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden block. 

The next thing she knew, her back was on the ground and the wind had been knocked out of her. Hyunjin hovered above her. There was the hint of a smile there. 

“You need to work on your balance.” She chuckled. Another thing about Hyunjin. She could be smug about almost anythung except for fighting. The way her eyes glittered now, she was just energised by the fight. 

Heejin frowned at her. “You basically threw me off my feet.” 

“You have to push back,” Hyunjin replied. She was still looking down at her with sparkling yellow eyes. 

Heejin found herself growing lost in them. Even though it was getting closer to morning, training always helped keep her energised. Unfortunately, it also meant that she was well aware of how the proximity affected her. And how it didn’t affect Hyunjin. It'd stopped doing that for a long time. 

Then Hyunjin just nodded and got up. She pulled Heejin with her. She did it just as easily as she’d knocked her down. 

“You beat me and we’ll go back for food.” 

Heejin lifted her staff and swung. 

Hyunjin blocked it. 

She tried another. Blocked. She aimed for her legs. Hyunjin jumped, smacking away the next one while she was in the air. 

When she tried again, Heejin summoned another lengthened piece of light and went for Hyunjin’s ribs. She made the hit. 

And then a foot hooked around her ankle. Heejin pushed forward instead, forcing the both of them into the ground. 

Hyunjin’s breath escaped her. “Nice,” she said. “But if I had a knife,” a light pressure at Heejin’s abdomen, “I would've gotten you.” 

“And what about me?” Heejin had her stick against her ribs. “At this point you wouldn’t be able to breathe.” 

She gave her a look. “It’s about surviving the fight, not winning it.” Then she rolled them around. A full smile appeared. “But it’d have worked if I was even more of an idiot.” She pulled her up again. “Another?” 

They ended up going through four more rounds. Two of them ended with Heejin thinking she’d won before Hyunjin pointed something else out. The other two times Heejin was just about tossed to the ground. 

“We should stop.” Hyunjin absorbed her mock weapons. Her eyes glowed even brighter now. 

Heejin scowled. “I didn’t beat you once.” The shame of that got her more than the growing bruises did. 

She smiled. “I’m hungry.” 

“You wanted food hours ago.” And Heejin couldn’t deny that she'd also gotten very hungry. 

Hyunjin just shrugged. “The wait makes it even better.” She tilted her head to the side, her smile growing. “And you could’ve stopped it at any moment.”

“You said we’d only stop if I got you.”

“I’m not a strict teacher,” she replied. “I let people off easy.”

Heejin gave her a look. “The bruises'll really prove that.”

“Does it hurt?” Hyunjin spoke quietly now. 

She shook her head. Where was this caution coming from? Hyunjin had sent a lot of the rest straight to Nuala. She and Jinsoul were their main healers when ‘intensive training’ started.

The glow of the fires came into view. It was joined by louder chatter. Some had taken to staying up late. There wasn’t the constant paranoia that spies or other search parties were around. They let their guard down.

Heejin pushed down the anger she felt at that. 

“If you didn’t give me a real challenge, you’d be doing it wrong,” Heejin said. 

Another shrug was her response. Hyunjin had gotten less talkative recently. At first, Heejin had been able to see her struggle with something, as if she wanted to say something, but continuously held herself back from it. 

“Heejin!” Priad called. The one the light bound her to. “Teveril got a European wine and it’s incredible.” 

She could only smile and wave at them. At him. 

“Good way to end the night,” Hyunjin said, a small smile on her face. Heejin almost thought it looked strained. “Make sure to stretch your back some more before you go to sleep.”

“That’ll help?”

A nod. “You’ve started slouching again. Those muscles have to be kept strong.” 

Heejin frowned. “Since when is walking related to fighting?” 

“It isn’t,” Hyunjin’s smile grew, “but I’ve seen several mortals with very poor postures. Many elves as well.” She chuckled. "Should I send Jungeun on you like she gets after Jinsoul and Yerim?"

She straightened. To her dismay, she realised that there was actually a long distance for her shoulders to go back. 

Hyunjin nodded in approval, before turning away, going to another fire. 

Heejin didn’t want her to go, but Hyunjin would've hated being with the others. She’d barely been able to stand them before: those either blessed with the sight, ones who loved hunts, or people born to be elders in the future. Heejin sometimes wondered how Hyunjin had ever tolerated her in the first place. 

So Heejin turned around and went to join them, accepting a plate and loading it with much-needed food. She took the cup with a smile she didn’t have to force this time. 

“She really laid into you, didn’t she?” Priad frowned, brushing a hand through her hair. He picked out a leaf. “You sure it’s necessary?”

Heejin nodded. “Puts up a good fight compared to the rest of you.” She gave them a wink. 

Teveril rolled his eyes. “All things considered, of course she’s better.”

The words felt off to her, but Heejin dismissed them. She focused instead on finally eating something. It was a brisket made extra crispy. The fresh spices the others had brought were a welcome change. 

They talked of the patrols, of how many spirits they’d turned, and of the latest news from the other elves. The Tresa, elves from the coldest points of the earth, were doing a small round of the earth. There was the chance they’d also come to them, bearing both gifts and requests for the coming years. They were usually unpredictable with those visits. Eline and the other seers helped with that, but even they couldn’t always tell when the Tresa were coming. 

In the back of her mind, Heejin added it to her list of examples where the light was fallible. It was a list some would that a lot would condemn her for. No one would stop to think that maybe their beliefs had to be re-examined, no matter how long the list. 

There were some exceptions, but there weren't enough of them. 

"When's the halfling coming?" Teveril knocked back the rest of his glass. He poured another. 

Heejin frowned. "Don't start calling her that." Although a large part of her wished the half-elf wasn't coming, although she wished the light hadn't shone on them as well, she couldn't help but find issue in how easily Teveril dismissed them. 

Beside him, Kolina shrugged. "It's what they are."

"Still can't believe the moon's light extends that far out." Priad shook his head. "What's next? Full fairy, a human?"

Some of them chuckled. Heejin didn't join in. These same people had been opposed to Jungeun when she'd arrived, the first of the non-Astra to be chosen by the moon. When Jinsoul came, it'd somehow changed things. Whatever the reason, the elves had begrudgingly accepted them. This acceptance had then extended to Choerry.

Still, the three girls and others like them were kept to patrol almost every other day. They were still the ones sent into the human world for trade. Choerry and Jinsoul had been the exception. Jinsoul was a well respected healer for them now, while Choerry was also helping there. Jungeun continued to deal with most threats when they arose. She was the best at that. 

What would happen now? Would people treat the half-elf with even more scrutiny? They'd probably struggle to 'accept this fate' and rationalise what the moon wanted. They'd debate among themselves. Again. 

Heejin remembered a day when they hadn't questioned the moon. When they'd blindly accepted what it wanted of them. And they'd tossed someone away because of it. 

“Tired?” Priad asked. 

“A bit.” Heejin tried for another smile. He'd probably sensed some of her irritation. Not enough. 

The smile worked. “You know it’s alright to take it easy,” he said. “Skip a session or two with Hyunjin. She’s not Yuol.” The elder who’d taught most of them once they’d come of age. He was relentless with his criticisms, but never gave lessons after that they’d finished their training. 

“No,” Heejin agreed. “But she’s the next best thing.” She hoped her tone showed that she wanted to drop the topic. 

It didn’t. 

His brow furrowed. “She’s not the only one with experience. Father’s even offered to help.”

She shook her head. Priad’s father would never lay a hand on her. She wasn’t sure Priad would let him either. “I don’t need a change.” 

“You’re always in pain after you’ve worked with her.”

Heejin raised a brow. “It’s a challenge.” 

“One you don’t need.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “It’s good to have.” Now she finished her food and poured a bit more of the wine into her cup. “I’ll be off.” She gave Teveril a small wave. “Thanks for the wine.”

He raised his cup in response. How many refills he’d had, Heejin wasn’t sure. 

There was a small chorus of goodnights and she knew Priad would want to come with her. She left before he could make to get up. 

A part of her knew that she was being unfair. The other part reassured her that it didn’t matter. Even if there was a bond between them, it hadn’t done much else than simply exist. She'd felt nothing the day she’d learned of it, nor did she feel anything when he was near. Something had changed that day, but it had nothing to do with him. It also wasn’t his fault. 

Heejin's feet took her to the other campfire. Someone sat there alone. Her eyes were closed and she chewed on something, seemingly savouring each bite. 

Heejin stood there, debating whether or not to disturb the peace. They hadn't eaten together for a few weeks, maybe even longer. Hyunjin was always off doing something, or Heejin was called to be with another group. 

She walked over over. 

“Care for a sip of wine?” Heejin asked. 

Hyunjin’s eyes opened. With the fire, they looked more orange than yellow. “Wine?” 

Heejin raised her cup. “The good European kind.” She pushed it into her free hand. 

The other girl looked at it, but didn’t drink. 

Heejin sat down. “Don’t tell me you need a sharp mind to sleep.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Hyunjin chuckled, “but I do need one when guarding.” She handed the cup back to Heejin. 

“Guarding?”

“Short one today,” she replied. 

Heejin couldn’t help but frown. “You were already on patrol.”

Hyunjin took a bite of her own food. On her plate was a crumpled breadroll beside her brisket. “Kolina said she was worried about witches. And tonight, Eline expects a stray vampire or malevolent spirit to find its way to us. With the newcomer, I'm betting on the spirit being the threat."

A few of the elves could gather information about the future. Most were distrustful of it. At least until the information became useful: who one was destined to be with, who was a threat, who was in danger, all of it was considered vital to know. 

"You're also going to be part of the escort?" Heejin asked. “And you’re warding off witches?” Close-quarters combat wasn’t much help against spells. 

“Jungeun and Chuu will be joining with the witches," Hyunjin shrugged, “and then Jinsoul and Jungeun'll be there to get the newcomer.” She had another bite, seemingly indifferent. "And I'd like to meet them before it all becomes even more confusing." 

Heejin was about to say more about the guarding part, but she realised it’d be pointless. 

A smile appeared on Hyunjin’s face. “Well done today.” 

“You’re just trying to inflate my ego.”

She shook her head. “Not just that. I mean it.”

Heejin frowned again. “I lost each time.” Just thinking the day over made her face flush, both with embarrassment and frustration. 

Hyunjin chuckled. “Really?”

“You told me all the ways I didn’t.” She tried to keep the frustration from her voice. 

“And you believed it,” Hyunjin tilted her head to the side, “I’m flattered, but you put too much faith in my words.” Her smile seemed to grow with each word. "But remember we're blessed with immortality. You'd have survived a lot of those wounds." 

Heejin frowned at her. “You were lying to me?”

She waggled her eyebrows. “Leaving out details.” 

“Like?”

“Your form was good,” Hyunjin said. “You’re strong, stronger than most of the people here and you beat me a few times today.”

Heejin’s face burned from the praise. She hoped she just looked bewildered instead of flustered. 

“So why’d you tell me I lost?” She didn’t even mind that. Not when it meant she could learn from her mistakes after actually finding out what she was doing wrong instead of getting vague suggestions. Hyunjin was rarely vague. She just taught her by making her eat dirt and leaves. 

Hyunjin grinned. “I wanted you to try again.” 

Strangely enough, Heejin didn’t mind that either. She’d have the worst ache by tonight, but today had been worth it. She'd seen Hyunjin smile and laugh more than she had in a while. 

“You needed me to do that eight times?” Heejin asked. 

“It was more than that.” Hyunjin tore the last of the bread roll in half. “At least twelve.” She popped it in her mouth. 

She swatted her arm. “And when we stopped?” 

“I told you the truth there.” Hyunjin finished the bread, or whatever that specific type was supposed to be called. “I was really hungry.” She took a plum from the bowl at the base of the fire. She began to eat that as well. She still hadn’t finished the meat. 

Heejin leaned back. She couldn’t help but smile. Hyunjin tended to do things in a strangely specific way, while also being completely focused on what she did. Usually it was with a task, such as training her to fight or doing some other duty in the camp. Hyunjin would take it seriously, no matter what was going on in her head or around her. She’d hardly pay mind to the passage of time, and she wouldn’t cave to someone’s ego, especially not Heejin’s. And she’d still do something like what she’d done today. 

Then there were moments like these where she’d relax fully. Her particular way of doing things still showed through, but it was with her food. 

Heejin loved both sides of her to no end, but she could only think of them together. She’d come to adore the person they combined to make. 

Hyunjin looked up then, as though startled. 

“Something wrong?” Heejin asked. 

Yellow eyes lingered on her face for a moment. 

“Nothing,” Hyunjin shook her head, “thought there was something strange.” There was a tug at the corner of her mouth. “But it was just you.” 

Heejin rolled her eyes, while a low laugh sounded from the other. She tried not to dwell on how happy it made her to hear it. 

Then there was a shout. Heejin vaguely heard the words, she's here!

Already? Immediately, her mood soured. It was the next person chosen by the moon. The one her people were already prepared to accept, despite murmuring consistantly about the 'outsider', despite expressing their rejection of the half-elf. They'd agree to accept her. All because the moon had chosen her. 

And they'd abandoned one of their own. Because the moon hadn't chosen Hyejoo, or—as they now had to call her—Olivia. 

Chapter Text

The welcoming was cold, to say the least. It was also freezing in the camp. Everyone glowed in the camp, the light likely only used to warm their limbs. Vivi didn’t know how to control that yet. Already, she was ready to find some place warm to sit. There were plenty of fires all around. Her leg still hurt and she leaned on the other as best she could. She fought the urge to sit down.

They were all around her, watching her with intent gazes. Some looked distrustful, but a few were surprisingly welcoming. 

“Viian, father an elf with magic of earth, mother a fairy with a hold over the air,” the elder said. Freya. Her voice was warm, but her gaze was just as cold as the air. Vivi had met vampires kinder than that. She was an elder with golden eyes. Her skin was pure white, almost blindingly so. “What did that leave you with?”

Vivi fought the urge to correct how vague ‘hold over the air’ was and tell her of the many complexities there were. 

“Stone.” With her accent, she’d probably sound as if she only spoke a fraction of what she did. Her crosesh wasn’t great, but she understood almost everything. Until several people talked at once or had accents like these elves did. Her head started to hurt when she tried to distinguish between all of them. 

The elves around her exchanged glances. They’d gathered in a large circle. Vivi felt as if she was on display. If they wanted to make her feel uncomfortable, it was very effective. 

“And the moon has turned to you, giving you the gift of light,” another elder said. They called her Eline. When she looked at Vivi, it seemed she was looking through her. “So we welcome you as an Astra.” Only then did she meet her eyes. 

Vivi doubted that they truly welcomed her. She'd met a fair amount of eyes that looked at her with outrage, others with disbelief. She wasn’t the first halfling in the world, but she was the first to have gotten the light of the moon. It seemed to be a miracle to some and an ugly joke to others. Vivi had already decided that this wasn't a gift. 

“Your role has already been decided,” Freya continued. “The protection of the humans falls to you and those you join. It is a noble cause.”

Protection of those who’d die before Vivi would ever get close to calling this place a home? Definitely noble. 

“But we still need someone to teach you, as light is nothing like stone," another elder said. Lyriil. "Rather than heavy, it is gentle. Rather than destruction, it will bring something of value.” 

Vivi whipped her head around to look at him, trying not to show him just how destructive stone could be. It would only prove his point. 

Lyriil's brow rose. He knew Vivi wouldn’t defend herself. “So I ask the rest of you for volunteers.” His voice rose. Somehow, he glowed even brighter. Vivi kept her eyes on his, even though it was starting to strain her. “Who will teach the newest addition the ways of the light and a respect for the moon?” 

A lump of rock far far away, Vivi thought. She wouldn’t dare say it aloud. These elves worshipped the pale orb in the sky just as Vivi held the stars in high regard, higher than the moon. Another thing she wouldn’t say. The stars weren’t made of stone. The moon was. If Vivi was stronger than she was, there was the chance she could summon a lump of that rock. What would these elves say then?

The elves exchanged glances again, murmuring as they did. Vivi was glad that she’d learned a few of the elven languages, specifically crosa. They had a strange accent, one that sounded as though a song could be found just below the words. She didn’t like it. It made dismissive words sound friendly and words of hate sound so similar to that of love. 

And now, they were discussing their current duties, as well as 'the halfling'. It didn't help in making her feel at home. 

No one raised a hand or stepped forward. It looked like they were waiting for someone to volunteer first. Vivi fought a sigh. 

“I will,” a higher voice said. The words reached over the whispers and mutters, falling into Vivi’s ear immediately. Strange. 

Her eyes were drawn to a cluster of people. They cleared for the speaker, some looking confused, while others looked at them with something close to distaste. Each of them watched the person with some sort of begrudging respect. Very strange. 

Some might have said she had eyes like emeralds, but Vivi thought them like the sea beneath the sun. She had dark hair cut just above her shoulders. 

“Are you certain?” Freya asked. Her expression neared distaste as well. Who was this girl to the elves? A leader? Or a particularly difficult person to handle?

“Naturally.” Her gaze was like that of a hawk: challenging and perhaps predatory. Definitely searching. 

No one objected. They only stared at the elf. 

Vivi looked for Jungeun and Jinsoul. They had smiles on their faces. That was reassuring. At least she hoped so. They hadn't stepped forward, but she was quite sure that was because they weren't fully Astra. Did they even have the authority for that sort of thing? 

There was also a girl beside the two, one who glowed as they did, but not like the Astra. She had brown hair and purple eyes. She met Vivi’s eyes and winked. 

Vivi had to smile back. 

“Very well,” Freya pursed her lips, “if no one else will speak up?” Her eyes fell somewhere else. Vivi didn’t know who she looked at in the vast crowd. “Then we're finished. Haseul will tell you what else you must know.” Her eyes went back to the green-eyed elf. Not Vivi. 

You must know. The wording rubbed her the wrong way. So did the tone. 

The elves dispersed very quickly, leaving eight. One of them had taken Haseul aside, while the others looked on with varying degrees of surprise. The one whispering to Haseul looked angry. It was also too quick for Vivi to understand fully, but she could interpret some of it. 

What were you thinking?

Fool. 

Trap. 

Outsider. 

Haseul only shook her head. “She’s here now,” she said quietly, but Vivi could hear it perfectly. “So accept it.” 

The girl looked livid. She had pink eyes as well, but they were more vibrant than Vivi’s. 

Then those eyes met hers and the anger was directed at her. It gave Vivi a painful warmth. Was that another way moonlight worked?

“You’ll get no help from me.” Then she was gone. 

A yellow-eyed girl watched after her, shock evident on her face. Disappointment was coming in as well. 

“Viian,” Haseul nodded at her, “I’m sorry you had to have one of the worst greetings I’ve ever seen.” Her expression no longer looked threatening, but tired. So she'd put up a front. 

“It definitely reminded me of mine.” Jinsoul gave her a small smile. “But she couldn’t exactly tell me that water destroys since,” she patted the waterskin at her waist, “it’s too good to criticise.” 

“She laid into fire a lot,” Jungeun chuckled, “had Nuala give me several lectures on how terrible burn wounds were.” She rolled her eyes. “Very enlightening.”

Vivi caught Jinsoul's eyes flicker to Jungeun then. It was as if the elf wanted to protest, but had immediately held back. 

“Are you allowed to speak like that?” Vivi glanced to where the elders had gone. They were on the far side of camp, but there were others who could pass on the words they spoke now. They all had the ears for it. 

Haseul snorted. “They’re not like mortal rulers who’ll rip your limbs from you for disrespect.” 

“Or else she’d have lost everything by now.” The one with yellow eyes laughed. 

“That,” Haseul conceded, “and there’s some sort of deep-rooted respect we have for anyone tied to the moon.” Her gaze softened further. “Even if they take a while to remember that.”

There was a bit of a somber atmosphere then, one Vivi couldn’t really read. Did she want to know? 

“I have to go,” Jungeun said. “I’m one of the leads for the protection of the humans,” she winked, “but that essentially includes the patrol of our home.” 

Our home. A collection of tents, the occasional stone structure, and many fire pits scattered all throughout. The place they were in now was both a clearing and next to some sort of amphitheatre. The ground had been carved away with surprising care and precision. It made for seats, as well as another flatter part further down. Vivi was glad they hadn’t been there—where she would’ve really been on display. 

“I’ll be finished with Nuala in an hour,” Jinsoul frowned, “then I’ll change over and join you.” 

The red-eyed elf only shook her head. “New moon today. You’ll be spent by then.” Then she was off. 

Jinsoul watched after her, confusion and concern in her eyes. Vivi had no way of knowing if this was normal. Were those two just lumped together because they weren't Astra? Had something happened in the past? 

The purple-eyed girl looked up at Jinsoul. “I can follow her.” 

“She’ll expect that,” Jinsoul shook her head, “and won’t let you come far.”

Vivi looked at Haseul then who mouthed, ‘I’ll explain later’. 

Purple-eyes then smiled brightly at Vivi, but there was still some concern leftover. “I’m Choerry.” She bowed her head once. “Technically it’s Yerim, but we don’t consider names that important.” There was a sudden edge of anger to the otherwise cheerful-looking girl.

“Yeojin,” the orange-eyed girl said. She had a surprisingly deep voice. “We have to get to Iaran.” She smiled apologetically at Vivi. “Hunting training.” Her words dripped with feigned enthusiasm. Vivi found herself already taking a liking to her. 

The two left. They didn’t really walk close together. A part of Vivi wondered if they had been forced to do that training together. 

“If we’re doing introductions,” the yellow-eyed girl stepped over, “I'm Hyunjin. The one who was just here is Heejin.” Her eyes flicked to where the girl had gone. She looked disappointed now. Was disdain not typical for this Heejin? She seemed to wear it easily. “When it comes to the initial learning, I’m not much help,” she said. “But once you pass that phase, I’ll be there to help with the rest as well.” 

“The rest?” Vivi repeated. Just how much was there supposed to be?

“Combat training, focused on using moonlight, and some other things.” She smiled. “You’ll see.” Then she gave a small wave before going in the direction Heejin had gone. 

That left Vivi with Haseul and Jinsoul. 

“Hopefully she’ll figure out what’s wrong with her,” Jinsoul crossed her arms, “or I’ll do it myself.” 

That was something to remember. Heejin wasn’t normally like this. Then again, ‘normally’ didn’t include having a halfling be considered a part of your happy family. Maybe she’d had a poor encounter with fairies. Most of Vivi’s own people had hated elves as a result of the conflicts they’d had. That hatred faded over time. It had a variety of reasons. Maybe Heejin had something like that in her past. Vivi had once had it. 

Then, with a warm smile sent Vivi’s way, Jinsoul went off to whoever Nuala was supposed to be. 

“How’s the leg?” Haseul asked. She spoke fae, her accent changing the circular patterns of the language to something lyrical. Though the words sounded strange, they were a comfort to hear. “Jinsoul always tries to take the pain away, but,” she trailed off, her brow furrowed. 

Vivi was happy to speak in her language. “I can walk on it with a limp,” Vivi replied. And it also hurts like a mortal’s hell. 

“We’ll go sit by the fire,” she said. “Today was a hard day.” Her arm rose, but she seemed to think better of it, letting it fall. She started walking, but slowly. 

It was clear that Haseul had wanted to give her a hand. Vivi appreciated that she hadn't. She may not have had much of an idea of how moonlight worked, but she wasn’t weak. If the rest didn’t acknowledge that, she’d have to show it. Otherwise they’d truly believe she was incapable of acting on her own accord. And that’d open her up to either being pitied or something worse.   

“So there’re different duties?” Vivi asked. She wanted to know how exactly Haseul knew their language so well. The obvious answer was that she’d learned it, but that said nothing about why.

She nodded. “Sometimes there’s a rotation, other times not at all. Patrol’s one of those.” 

And from what she’d seen, those not born into the Astra were relegated there. What of the others? Would she see born-Astra as well? Or not at all?

“There’s also hunting, scavenging, healing—combat too.” Haseul nodded to a place where some were sparring between tents and fires. A younger boy against one of the elders. The boy was slowly starting to hold his own, but he lacked a proper stance. The elder wasn’t attacking that weakness. Perhaps this round was for the boy’s self-confidence. 

“Which are you?”

“Either combat or hunting,” Haseul replied. “Though that sort of hunting isn’t for animals.”

“You look for spirits to purify?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’d say yes, but I’m not a fan of that word.” 

That was interesting. “Others use it,” Vivi said. “Some say you negate the negative emotions, allowing the positive to overcome the spirit. Then they’re free of things like anger and fear.” 

Haseul’s brow rose. “These the emotional fae talking?”

Vivi nodded. What did the elves know about them? What misconceptions were there? Did they think all mental fae were evil? That all elementals were aggressive? 

“Makes better sense than purging the evil from them.” Haseul shook her head. “A ridiculous way to look at it.” 

“Won’t others hear you?” Vivi looked around. 

“Most won’t understand us as well as you do them,” she replied. “And the elders usually don’t care.”

Finally, they sat down by a fire. It was burning without wood. Vivi stretched out her leg. She couldn’t find anything about this fire pit that made it different from the rest. How would she find it again? 

Vivi didn’t ask about that. She had a different question. Now she could ask it. “Then why do you know it better than them?”

“Don’t want to know how?” 

Vivi shook her head. “You learned it.” 

“Good point.” Haseul grinned. “For one thing, I've got to be ready for almost all negotiations. Second, it’ll be something we’ll all need one day. When our groups actually coexist peacefully.”

She couldn’t help her disbelief. “That sounds a bit idealistic.”

“I know,” Haseul sighed, “but we’re immortal. One day could be in a thousand years.” Then she smiled again. “But at least you and I’re talking. And I’m going to hope my accent doesn’t sound terrible.”

Vivi smiled slightly. “It doesn’t.”

Haseul nodded. “You can understand everything we say, right?” 

“Yes. When Heejin had been speaking, I hadn’t been able to understand everything,” she said. “But some.” Enough, she added silently. 

“Right,” she bit her lip, “I don’t know what happened there.” She straightened. “But she’ll come around.” 

“And how long until then?”

Haseul only shrugged. At least she wasn't being blindly optimistic. 

Vivi knew outrage like that. She knew it simmered, even if she'd hardly done anything to deserve it. There was a part of her that wanted to trust the judgement of the rest. They were surprised at how Heejin acted. Should Vivi look for what was redeemable? 

She dismissed the thought. She wouldn’t give Heejin the benefit of the doubt. Whatever the case, Heejin would have to be the one to bridge whatever gaps there were. Vivi wouldn’t be a slave to hope. Not again. 

_____

Hyunjin frowned at the girl in front of her. 

“What was that?” Some would say she had little right questioning her, but Heejin wouldn't. She'd be frustrated, Hyunjin knew that, but there was still a good chance she'd listen. Or at least explain. 

Heejin scowled. “They’ll doubt her being here, but wouldn’t doubt it before?” 

“And you’re going to take that out on her?” Hyunjin raised a brow. 

“I wasn’t allowed to take anything out on anyone!” Her pink eyes blazed. “The second this becomes too much, you’re going to tell me I can’t say anything?” 

There was so much anger. Hyunjin had felt some of it earlier while they were fighting, but Heejin had controlled it better then. She knew it'd help her in a real fight.

But now that she wasn’t focusing on something else, Heejin was letting her anger run freely. Hyunjin wished it hadn’t been building up like this. Was it her fault for not talking about it more? She didn't know how to talk about this, especially not Hyejoo, let alone her banishment. 

“I never said that.” Hyunjin held up her hands, resisting the urge to take Heejin’s. “You can take it out all you want on me, but not on someone who’s come here alone, an outsider only because of the way she was born.” And if the rest had had problems with Jungeun and the others, just because they weren’t Astra, then Viian would face something even worse. 

“She was never an outsider and look what they did,” Heejin spat. “They never doubted it, because it suited them to throw her away.” 

And here, it didn’t suit them to accept someone who was half an elf. But Vivi didn't know this. She didn't know what had happened before. Not yet. 

“And this's exactly when you’re not supposed to act like them.” Hyunjin didn’t say it, but Heejin was better than that. 

In the next moment, pink eyes were just a few centimetres away. 

Hyunjin didn’t step away. She maintained her ground as if she was in a fight, but her mind wasn't as steady. They hadn't been this close outside of training in—how long had it been? 

“Don’t you dare tell me I’m acting like them,” Heejin hissed. “You saw it just as well as I did. You know how wrong it was.” 

“Yes,” Hyunjin said. “But you’re making everyone think you’re rejecting her for a different reason.” She paused. “For the reason I thought you were rejecting her.” And she hadn’t wanted to believe it. She was glad she hadn’t. 

“And that was?” Her brow rose a fraction. She was still so close. Too close. 

“She’s half fae.” 

Heejin drew her head back, frowning. “That makes no difference.”

“Then don’t act like it does,” Hyunjin replied. "Don't make her think it does." 

She scoffed and pushed past her. 

“Wait.” Hyunjin reached out. 

Heejin was gone before she could take her hand.  

Hyunjin sighed. At least she knew what the problem was. Would it be solved any time soon? Was there anything she could do to help? 

She hoped so. 

Chapter Text

Olivia pulled away from the shadows. Being surrounded by them hadn’t always been so comfortable. Once the cold had terrified her. After the fear had faded, she’d been disgusted by it. The shadows latched onto her as rain did, never leaving no matter how fast she moved or tried to veer away from the darker curls on the ground. 

Now it felt like pulling away from an embrace. She knew she was stronger in the shadows than out of them. She could see through the dark as she’d once been able to see the light in others. If she looked at the world normally, she wouldn’t be able to tell her feet from the ground, but the moment she looked deeper into the world, she saw what the darkness coated. 

At first it hadn’t been useful. It’d just been dizzying. Why bother deciphering the shadows when she could simply make an improvised torch to find her way. 

After using her abilities for other ends, ones where she needed to remain undiscovered, that enhanced vision became invaluable. 

“There you are.” Zelena smiled at her. “Go smoothly?” She was half-fae and elf. She had deep blue eyes, more like an early evening sky. 

Olivia shrugged. “A few spirits came along.” 

She sighed. “Damn.” She put a hand on her shoulder. “Alluin’s already got something for you. I’ll put a plate aside for you.”

“Thank you.” It wasn’t unusual to have two or three things to do in succession. And with the rumours circulating around human societies, most of them being confined to superstition, those who were hopeful (or desperate) would come to them. 

“And Olivia,” Zelena squeezed her shoulder, “the fae will hear of it. They’ll send the mentals their way. They always do.”

She nodded. Not all of the fairies were able to manipulate the mind, but some could. It was a terrifying threat to have on their side. They were only lucky that the mental fae usually stayed out of conflicts. And that they weren’t completely defenceless. 

There were some elves with a similar magic, but they were rare. As uncommon as non-Astran lunar elves were. So there were enough. 

And most with that magic took on the duty of going to mortals who'd seen what they shouldn't have. Even though they didn’t live long, their lives could be ruined if they were faced by what they called ‘supernatural’. Rumours were rarely erased from people’s minds. Over the years, it had led to myths and tales being spun, some awfully similar to the truth. 

Olivia went through the haphazardly strewn about tents. Unlike others, their camp did move around. Frequently. At first, Olivia hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near them. The darkness surrounding most had scared her, while the abilities of others had terrified her. They still did, but she knew some of them enough that she could trust them not to kill her if she turned her back to them. 

It wasn’t a group where she was bound. In the beginning, she’d only ever got word through a brief message, either scribed through shadow or the earth. When she wanted to spend less time stealing and more elsewhere, it was fine until a key job was required of her. 

Olivia reached the place in question. Its walls were of white linen. Freshly cleaned. Or bought. Some of the others had a penchant to indulge themselves in luxury. Alluin wasn’t exempt from it. 

She drew back the flap and peeked in. 

Alluin and Shaerra lounged on a set of deep blue cushions. They were of a soft, yet glossy material. Zelena had said it was silk. Or was it velvet? Olivia focused on that instead of Shaerra. 

“Olivia,” Alluin smiled, getting to his feet, “had something made you angry in the house?”

He knew about what’d happened. Already.

“No,” she said. “They always approach me when I’m alone. Especially on a night with little light.” 

He nodded. “You did well.” His eyes were black, like Olivia’s, but where hers looked like pitch, his were like ink. He was an Astra like her, one who’d gotten darkness instead of light. She’d never heard of him before he’d found her. Would she be a secret among the lunar elves as well? Would there be people who, in a hundred years or more, wouldn’t know she'd existed? 

Olivia took out the payment from her bag. It was heavy, full of more gold than silver. Apparently, it’d been one of the more high-profile jobs. It’d certainly been something political and about territory. 

“Keep it.” His smile softened. “What I have for you next won’t be easy.”

She wondered what he considered ‘easy’. The last job he’d thought was easy had included Olivia nearly getting burned alive by a witch coven. And that hadn’t even been expected. The ‘not easy’ was getting past the guards. During the day. 

She put the money deep into her knapsack. It was a worn leather thing from a mortal market. She’d actually bought it and it’d survived for four years now. She’d sewn some parts of it again, but it was large enough to fit what they sent her to take. Mostly. And it didn’t shine as some mortal leather did. 

“What is it?” Olivia asked. 

Shaerra had stood as well. She was taller than her by a head. A sea elf, but she had an affinity for controlling blood. Olivia always felt uncomfortable around her, knowing full well the death she could cause. Was that how it felt to be around darkness?

Olivia kept her eyes on Alluin. 

“The target is a person,” Alluin said slowly. “You’re to kill them.” 

“No,” Olivia said. They would not make a murderer out of her. How many stories had she heard of cold rooms with even colder corpses. Not all were even Alluin’s, but the others who had weapons he’d given them. Some had even boasted about their efforts. She wouldn’t add any rooms to that, nor any bodies. 

“It’s not as if you’ve never done such a thing before,” Alluin said. The words were harsh, but he said them gently. All treated him like the humans did kings or princes. With a handsome face and all shadows bending to his will, it made sense. 

Olivia knew he was just drawing on them, either passively or actively. Whatever the case, it ensured others felt his power. She could’ve done the same. She tended to do it as well, but his influence on the shadows was greater than hers. 

Her respect came from somewhere else. He was like her. He’d taught her much of what she knew. What she’d needed for a tolerable life—some form of company (despite never feeling fully at ease with the rest), a fairly safe haven, and money—he was the reason she had it. 

She respected him, yes, but there was no denying where that money came from. He’d lived far longer than she had. The cooperation with mortals had perhaps been in place since she’d been a child. That included thievery, violence, and murder. Even if she’d willingly done two of those things, something deep in Olivia recoiled at the third.

“Just because I’ve done it before doesn’t mean I want to do it again.” Olivia didn’t want to think about it. She’d killed someone, yes, but not because of a contract. 

“You think you’re just here to steal trinkets and paper?” Shaerra sneered.

Olivia felt the lightest of tugs on her blood. She nearly threw up. She hated being in the blood elf’s presence. 

Olivia wanted to say she’d come here for money. She’d come here to learn. And a small part of her had hoped to find a place again. She'd learned to live with the fact that where she was now would never become a home. It was a reality she’d accepted after being sent on the first job. It’d been one where she hadn’t known what awaited her. She hadn’t expected to encounter armed resistance. She'd needed to fight her way out of it, causing some to scream in terror at the sight of her and the darkness they’d seen. And then Alluin and the rest had congratulated her. 

“You can send me to steal and spy,” Olivia said. “But I won’t kill.”

“We only ever go after those who deserve it,” Alluin said, his expression still kind.

Deserve. There were mortals who deserved death? Olivia knew there were exceptions, but to end a life that was already so short? 

“It’s not easy to take a life,” he continued, “and it’s good that it isn’t easy, or else things would fall to pieces.” A small smile appeared, before his expression grew serious again. “There are mortals out there who’ve been wronged, their lives either ruined or ended. Those who are the cause are allowed to live freely.”

It was what she’d been told before. That had been to justify thievery. She'd accepted that easily enough. 

“We take the burden,” Shaerra said. “From those whose short lives wouldn’t allow them to forget.”

Olivia frowned at that. She still didn’t look at her. “So we're able to forget?” She wasn’t that naive. She knew the rumours and the fear that came with the stories. They spoke of the cold rooms with shaky voices, even if they hadn’t ever been near one. And whoever Shaerra killed—Olivia never wanted to think about how she'd done it. She already knew. 

“Slowly.” Surprisingly, her voice had softened. “The mortals say that time heals one’s wounds. They don’t live long enough for most of them to heal. We do.”

“Not all wounds heal,” Alluin gave Shaerra a sharp look, “but we’re able to distance ourselves more than they can. And the people you’re sent to are those who’ve wronged others, sometimes more than even we were.” His eyes flicked to the floor, looking almost sad. “Were it not for the rest of what those mortals can do, I would’ve lost my faith in the humans long before.” He looked at her then. Though they looked like hers, his eyes had more light. “It’s worse than what was done to you. They strip people of their freedom to act, to think, or even just to live.” 

Olivia fought the urge to look away. “Murder takes the freedom to live as well.”

“Have you ever heard of the mortal saying,” Alluin began, “an eye for an eye?”

She shook her head. 

“So many mortals never have the chance to take that eye, to take their revenge. They live their lives knowing they were too weak to bring some sort of justice into the world.” He sighed. Then he took a step forward, almost beckoning her to come closer as well. 

Olivia didn’t. She didn’t step away either. Alluin was like her, but far more powerful. He respected strength, so she couldn’t show she was afraid. 

“I’ve given them that justice, as has Shaerra. Everyone has overcome this first step. So will you.” Alluin put a cool hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It’s difficult, and that’s how it’s supposed to be. But there’s no one else who can do this.”

The three of them fell silent. Olivia only heard the distant chatter of the rest. Some had returned from jobs as she had. A few from infiltration jobs or from a theft. Others returned from assassination contracts. Theyd blindly given our their justice. To give the mortals who'd been wronged peace of mind. Did those humans truly live on with a better grasp on their lives? 

“It’ll be in Korea,” Alluin held out a roll of paper, “Hear what she has to say first. Her reasons and the person in question may be surprising.” He met her eyes. “And this is a case where it should be known you did it.”

Either witnesses or other clear signs of the work done. Did he expect her to coat the room in shadows? Colour one of their limbs black? Bathe their eyes in darkness? 

Just the thought made her shudder. Mortals. People who wouldn’t want to ever try to fight her. Even if they intended to, they would never succeed. She wasn’t mortal. It had been unfair since the moment they were born. Their lives were fleeting and hopelessly short. They either filled it with pursuits of happiness, glory, or wealth, or so it often seemed. Some were cruel, others possessed golden hearts. And they were all mortal. 

“Once you hear her story,” Shaerra’s eyes had turned oddly kind, “you might not even feel the doubt you do now.” 

Did they already know what had happened to the mortal? Or was there some sort of link in the darkness? Like the ones of light that seers like Eline could read. Was Olivia supposed to have threads in the past that bound her to this woman? Two wrongs that were made with the same effect? One of those being a wrong she could right?

Olivia took the paper. It felt far heavier than it looked. “I’ll go.” 

_____

The pain was sudden, piercing. It went deep into her chest, spreading from her heart to her lungs. 

Gowon hissed, dropping her plate. It tumbled to the ground, half of its contents rolling through the dirt and towards the fire. She paid it little attention. 

She was cold, but her chest burned. 

“Chae,” Jiwoo's hand went to her shoulder, “what is it?” 

Gowon looked up, only to see that Jiwoo's brow was already furrowed. She already looked more concerned than confused. 

“It’s just,” she glanced at the rest who’d looked her way, “I pulled a muscle today. Training.”

Kolina chuckled. "You're training too? For what?" 

Gowon didn't answer her. 

“Should I get the obsidian?” Sooyoung's brow furrowed. She looked more tired than usual. 

Gowon shook her head. More quickly than she should’ve. The thought of a glittering black rock made the pain even worse. She saw dark eyes filled with pinpricks of light, something she’d seen in the best moments of her life. She hadn’t seen those eyes in ages, not even in memory. 

She bit her lip as the pain grew worse. She felt something else then. It took hold of her, drawing her attention away from the physical world and towards the light. She saw the light held within the others and what she herself possessed. But flowing out from her was a thin grey cloud. It darkened the further it went, going from grey to black. It disappeared into the forest, but a part of her knew it went much farther than that. 

And it was tied to her. She’d never seen it before. 

Watching it, Gowon felt bile rise in her throat. All of it, the pain, the smoke, the memories—it was all wrong. 

“Come on,” Jiwoo stood, taking her with her, “we’ll go to Jinsoul.” Her eyes were on the forest, exactly where the grey smoke was going. She could see it. And the rest couldn't. 

“Nuala’s still around,” Teveril said. "Maybe she could give you something." 

Jiwoo ignored him and steered Gowon to the forest. Away from the grey. Gowon watched it. It flickered before dissolving into nothing. The pain dulled and so did the memories. The face that had been so clear to her faded from her mind. 

She found her voice. “Stop.” She didn't want to lose sight of that memory of Hyejoo. 

”We can’t,” Jiwoo replied. “That’s what’s hurting you.”

“I,” Gowon faltered. What was she going to say? She needed to see her face again? It was impossible to forget what she looked like, but all Gowon remembered was a face streaked with tears and black blood. She only saw fear and confusion in the girl that’d once smiled and laughed with her.

If they didn’t walk away now, she'd see how Hyejoo had been before then. She wouldn’t mind the pain then.

“Wait until we're further away,” Jiwoo murmured. 

They walked between the tents and fires. Only one caught her eye. Haseul and Viian sat beside one, talking softly in one of the fae languages. 

Viian had eyes and hair that were a soft pink. Gowon wondered if her hair was that way because of her magic or just voluntary.

Then Viian looked up, straight at Gowon. Her brow furrowed for a moment, before it smoothed over. But Gowon knew she'd seen something. She wouldn't know what she'd seen, because she didn't know much about the magic of the moon. Not yet at least.

The newcomer's eye drifted to Jiwoo. And then the direction they'd come. Her blank expression remained. Of course it did. She didn’t know who they were, or what they’d done. 

"Keep going," Jiwoo said. 

Gowon nodded. She wondered if Viian would ask Haseul about them or keep it to herself. Haseul would tell her and even if the words were twisted by anger, they would still be true. There was even the chance that Haseul wouldn’t say the worst details.

They walked to a portion of the forest much farther than the river they usually went to. If they walked really far, they’d get to a small lake, nearly a pond, but still large enough to swim and bathe in. 

Gowon felt drained. Empty. She kept trying to remember what she’d seen when the pain came. She kept trying to see Hyejoo. What greeted her each time was a broken and terrified Olivia. 

It didn’t make her feel that terrible pain. Just an ache. 

Jiwoo led her to a fallen tree. She had her sit down. The other elf pulled out her waterskin and handed it to her. 

Gowon took it and drank. It was both warm and cool as it leaked down her throat. The pain in her lungs faded, leaving only that ache. 

“You know what happened,” she said. It sounded more like a croak to her ears. 

Jiwoo didn’t respond, but when Gowon looked up, she saw resignation in peach-coloured eyes. 

Then she did say something. “Do you?”

Gowon shook her head immediately. 

Or did she know? Had she gotten some sort of message? Had Hyejoo realised that the light had bound them? Had she tried to deliberately rid herself of it? Or was this just a very pointed thought of hatred directed at Gowon? None of the questions seemed like they’d have a good answer. 

“Something happened,” Jiwoo said. “It strengthened,” she trailed off, “something.” She frowned. 

Gowon didn’t ask how she knew. She‘d her suspicions, but Jiwoo had never said a word about it. Seers weren’t all that rare, but they were always boxed in, kept safe and at arm’s length. Gowon knew Jiwoo would hate that. Not only did it mean she’d be seen differently, but she wouldn’t be able to do what she normally did. Except Gowon knew full well that Sooyoung had no idea. 

“Hye—she’s done something,” Jiwoo continued. “Or decided to do something. I don’t know. But it’s changed things. You felt the force of that, I think.” 

“Eline said it was gone,” Gowon shook her head, “that that day destroyed the bond.” The only pain she ever felt was because of the tatters that were left from it. This was a flare of it. Something had twisted it even more. 

“It did break,” Jiwoo replied. Coming from her, the words stung. “But I don’t think it ever disappeared.”

Those words sank in like a knife. The little glimmer of hope she had twisted that too. 

Gowon closed her eyes. “Don’t say that. Just tell me what it means.” 

“I don’t know.” Jiwoo’s arms went around her. “But figuring it out means actually facing it. So tell me about it.” 

“What I felt was—it wasn’t right.” 

The grip on her body tightened. Gowon leaned into the touch. 

“You know,” Gowon said. “You know what it was. What it meant?”

“Not exactly, but,” she faltered. She pulled away, but one arm stayed around Gowon’s shoulders. 

There were footsteps in that moment. Someone was running. Gowon recognised the footfalls and the steady breath. 

“Are you alright?” Sooyoung was at her other side. Her hand brushed through Gowon’s hair immediately, doing what she always did to comfort her. “They weren’t exactly letting me leave. At least not with an excuse like muscle pain.” 

Gowon grimaced. “I could’ve said a heart attack instead.”

Sooyoung chuckled. “You’re old, but not that old.”

“Not like you," Gowon threw back. 

A small pinch on her arm. Then Sooyoung also wrapped an arm around her. 

“What happened?” 

Gowon glanced at Jiwoo. She just looked at her with warm eyes. 

When she looked back at Sooyoung, the older elf was frowning between them. There was a flicker of hurt in her eyes. 

“I think I felt something from her,” Gowon whispered. She was almost certain that no one was around them, but she wouldn’t risk it. 

It may not have been general knowledge, but Eline had undoubtedly told the other elders about Hyejoo and her. It was so they’d know these connections could break. It had also made sure that in the first years, Gowon had been asked how she felt almost every other week. She’d stopped telling them that she felt cold, that she always felt alone, and that she hated what they’d done—what she’d done. Well, she hadn’t ever told them that last part. 

“Wasn’t that,” Sooyoung began. “You said you never felt anything like that. Afterwards.” 

“I didn’t. Not until now.”

“That could be good, right?” Sooyoung ran a hand through her hair. “Maybe she’s coming closer? Or got closer to the light somehow?” Even so, a frown appeared. “Is that possible?”

Gowon shook her head. “It wasn’t good. I know that.” 

“How?” 

“What I felt,” Gowon huddled closer to them, needing the warmth, “it wasn’t right. It was off. I don’t know how, but I know it was…was—”

“Breathe,” Jiwoo said softly. “We don’t have to figure this out now.”

“We do,” Gowon said, trying to temper her voice. It’d been so long since they’d actually talked about Hyejoo. And it'd been so long since she’d felt anything slightly different to the constant ache. She needed to know why it was happening. “What if she made a choice, one that took her even further away?” What would that have been? 

Both girls were silent. Sooyoung’s eyes were on the forest in front of them. 

“Further away from the light?” Sooyoung asked. “Or from you?”

It couldn’t have been from her. Gowon had already done enough there. 

“And you never felt anything before?” Jiwoo turned to her, eyes now serious. They looked like that more often now. “Not even a tug?”

Gowon shook her head. 

Jiwoo’s brow furrowed and she looked back over her shoulders. Towards the place they’d come. Could she see something? Something Gowon couldn’t?

“Does it still hurt?” 

“No,” Gowon said. “It stopped when we were walking away.”

“I don’t think distance has much to do with it,” Jiwoo said. 

She knew it was true. In the past five years, they’d been hearing accounts of a girl shrouded in darkness, creating dark spirits. Human guards had fought her, but only ever briefly. The mental fae and the few elves who had magic of memory had gone after those stories, finding the witnesses. Their memories had been revised to forget key details or chalk things up completely to superstitious ramblings. They’d all seen the memories themselves. They’d known it was Olivia. 

Some had wanted to go after her. They’d wanted to hunt her down. It had been the one time Gowon’s vote had done anything even slightly of use to Hyejoo. Her voice hadn’t been needed, neither had that of Jiwoo or Sooyoung. Heejin had been the first to outright decline it, snapping at those considering it. Haseul and the rest had joined her. Jiwoo, Sooyoung, and Gowon had only been able to voice their opposition when they weren’t around.

While the raw outrage towards the three of them had faded, Gowon knew that they’d never forgiven them. She understood it, but that didn't mean the glares Yeojin sent her were more bearable. It hadn’t made Heejin’s cold gaze any less painful. It hadn't lessened the shame she felt when speaking to Hyunjin or Haseul. The only ones who didn’t show it were Jungeun and Jinsoul. Jungeun and Jiwoo had grown much closer recently. Choerry had started to look into their eyes around the same time. 

“What’re you thinking it is?” Sooyoung asked. She looked at Jiwoo. 

Gowon could see the other’s mind working. Whatever she was thinking, she was debating what to say and what not to. Gowon knew exactly that Sooyoung would pick up on it. And that she'd be hurt. 

“It might be a warning,” Jiwoo said. “Something’s bringing her closer to darkness than to the moon.”

Others would’ve immediately said that Hyejoo wasn’t connected to the moon anymore. Gowon couldn’t believe it. She knew the Jiwoo and Sooyoung didn’t either. 

“And what happens if she gets there?” Gowon put a hand to her chest. She sought the light there. She looked for the grey she’d seen before. And she found it. It reached away from her only faintly. To some place far off behind her. Focusing on it brought the pain back, but it was only slightly sharper than the ache. She didn't see Hyejoo's smile. She saw nothing but the grey light. 

“I don’t know. It could mean whatever you’re feeling now,” Jiwoo sighed, “that it goes away completely?”

Gowon felt cold at the thought. Nothing. Not even the pain from it? And now that she knew the bond wasn’t completely gone, what did that mean? Was it the reason for the pain she’d felt for years? Even if only in shambles, it meant Gowon hadn't severed the bond completely. Even so, it didn't mean that it could ever be repaired. Or even that it should be.

All she could hope for was that Hyejoo didn’t feel that pain. 

A thumb brushed across her cheek. Sooyoung gave her a tiny smile. It was a shaky one, but an attempt at one. 

More tears fell as Gowon closed her eyes. She saw Hyejoo’s face again and she only saw her pain. The pain Gowon had caused. 

Where was Hyejoo now? What was she thinking? What was she going to do? Or was it not going to be an action? Would it just be a moment in time when she turned away from them completely? A moment where there’d be nothing left? 

Gowon didn’t know the answer to any of that. She couldn't ask the others either. They wouldn't know. Bonds had been lost before, but they’d never been destroyed. 

Chapter Text

Sixty years ago 

Hyejoo shook her head. “Nothing.” She looked at dull hands. Her skin was pale, but that didn’t mean much here. Without the light, it meant close to nothing. 

“Not true,” Chaewon said. She took her hands. “I can see it. Here.” She squeezed her hands before running her fingers up Hyejoo’s arms. Each touch made her skin tingle with warmth. “And here too.” She tapped her chest and then her head. “It’s just about finding where it’s focused.” 

“Maybe,” she fought a sigh, “but there’s not enough there anyway.” Eline had said as much. Nuala worried for each injury Hyejoo had for that reason too. There wasn't enough light to heal her anywhere near as quickly as the rest. 

“There’s enough.” Light green eyes met hers. “Remember where mine is?” 

“Heart.” And there couldn't have been a better fit. 

Chaewon smiled. “Have you tried there?” 

Hyejoo nodded. "It's not there.” Some people had theories for why the light focused on certain people. Jinsoul was one of the more thoughtful of the elves and her light focused, naturally, in the centre of her head. 

“And your stomach?” Her smile grew. “I’m both serious and joking.” 

She hadn’t thought of that. She closed her eyes and focused her attention there. Where her heart didn’t seem to have much light at all, there was a bit more there. Nothing like the others had. Either it was actually focused there and Hyejoo just didn’t have enough, or she hadn’t found the right spot. She wondered if she even had one. 

Again, she shook her head. "We can stop.” Chaewon was patient and Hyejoo appreciated that to no end, but everyone had limits. Hyejoo was quickly reaching her own. 

Even though Hyejoo given up, Chaewon had tried to convince her again and again to try again with the light. She'd created staffs, blocks, and daggers, all for Hyejoo to try and control. It never worked. So now she'd decided to try from the absolute basics—all the tests Hyejoo had failed the first time as a child.

A part of Hyejoo had once thought Chaewon did it because she wanted her to be her equal. That’d been until she’d beat her in a fight and Chaewon had gotten almost more eager to train with her, even without the moonlight.

Chaewon held her hands again. “Not yet. You have it.”

“Have you seen it?” Hyejoo didn’t want to be pessimistic, but getting false hope was as bad as not having it at all. 

“No,” she admitted. “But it’s like with Yeojin. No one saw it until she’d found it herself.” She raised a hand to Hyejoo’s face then. “It’s buried.” A pause. “I don’t know if you’d be able to control it, but if you had more of it, maybe you’d feel even stronger.” Her thumb brushed across her cheek. 

Hyejoo fought the urge to look away. Sometimes practice was more nerve wracking instead of frustrating. 

So she held Chaewon’s gaze, but didn’t focus on it. Instead she concentrated on her hands. Hyunjin’s light lay there. She found nothing in her own. 

She looked up her arms, finding nothing either. She even focused on her legs. Also nothing. 

“Don’t get annoyed,” Chaewon murmured. “It’ll just make it harder to find.” 

Hyejoo fought a sigh. Instead she took a long breath and let it out slowly through her nose. Chaewon was so close that she’d smell her breath. Not quite what she wanted from this. 

Hyejoo looked at own neck. There were flickers of something. She went to her ears, some had it there, but tended not to talk about it. Also something. 

When she got to her eyes, there was warmth. Not a lot, but it was there. She tried to pull on it. Her grip slipped. So she tried focusing in on it more. Her head started to hurt with the effort. 

A breathy laugh left the person in front of her. “You found it!” 

Hyejoo found herself being tugged forward. Her nose brushed Chaewon’s and green eyes were all she could see. They were even brighter than normal. 

She also found that she couldn’t breath right. 

“Your eyes,” Chaewon said, her breath gently brushing Hyejoo’s lips. It smelled more like fruit than anything else. “They’re like that dark stone. The one that sea elf used when Sooyoung had that back injury.” 

“Obsidian,” Hyejoo finished quietly. 

“Yeah,” she looked between her eyes, “do you feel any different?” Curiosity had filled Chaewon's light green eyes. 

Nervous, she thought. “Not really. Warmer?” And she had a headache now. 

Chaewon pulled away suddenly, dropping her hands. “Sorry,” she glanced at her, “it was really cool to see them change.” 

“Is there that big a difference?” 

She nodded. “They weren’t dull before, but they,” she trailed off. And then ducked her head slightly. 

“They what?” Was there something Chaewon had been making light of? And now she was letting things slip? 

Chaewon bit her lip. 

Hyejoo chuckled. “Now I’m just more curious.” 

“That’s a fairy thing,” she shot back. Then she sighed. “Your eyes only shine when you‘re happy, but there was always something.” She suddenly sounded more sure of herself. “Which’s also why they never thought you had it in you.“

“And you always knew?” Hyejoo tried not to sound like she didn’t believe her. She just suspected that Chaewon had been imagining it. Mortal eyes could shine, as could water. 

“Don’t say it like that, Hye,” Chaewon frowned, “I saw what I saw.” 

“Was this on a sunny day? A full moon?” Everyone glowed on those. And the sun was always the bringer of light in some shape or form. 

“Both. And then when there was a new moon, a half moon, and a crescent moon.” A pause. “Whenever you were happy, I saw that,” she said. “Not like water in the sunlight or a blade in the moonlight, but like obsidian.” 

Hyejoo only nodded. And now that she’d found the light, what was to come next? There wasn’t enough to grasp at. 

If it was in her eyes, what was that supposed to mean? 

Hyejoo would’ve rather it be in her hands.

_____

“Up you get,” someone was shaking her, lightly, “lots to do tonight.” A harder shake. 

Vivi fought a sigh. “It was hard enough to fall asleep during the day.” At the very beginning of the day too. She'd been lying awake for hours. So many of her thoughts hadn’t been ideal. And she knew it would take a long time to grow accustomed to the new sleep schedule. For the Astra, if it was morning, it was time for bed. Sunset was basically early morning for them. Vivi wished she'd realised that sooner. Then she could've better prepared herself. 

Haseul smiled. “Once you're out there, under the sky, you'll feel better." 

"I hope so." She sat up and stretched. “So you’re not only teaching me, but you’re the one to wake me up?” 

“I could’ve sent Yeojin. She does a really good job at that.” 

“Alright,” Vivi nodded, “good it was you.” She’d barely known the orange-eyed elf a day, but the girl seemed to allow no compromise, even for someone a century or two her senior. 

“Did you want new clothes or are you good with that?” Haseul held a pile of white linen in her hands. Very similar to the material that the other elves wore. Vivi had noted that some had taken to embellishing their clothes with patches or tears, as well as dirt. Choerry belonged to that group. As did Yeojin. 

Vivi looked down at what she wore. The cloth was smooth enough to feel like silk, but didn’t attract dirt due to the enchantment on it. It was both airy and insulating. It was very clearly the work of a fae. If she kept it on, that'd probably be interpreted as a statement of where her loyalties lay.

“I’ll keep these for now,” Vivi said. 

Haseul nodded, a hint of a smile on her face as she put pile down. “It’s a relaxed evening, so I’ll show you the outskirts of camp.” 

“Outskirts?” Just how large was this place? It seemed well populated, but had they spread out a lot? 

The elf held out a hand. “First the place to clean up and then the area you’ll end up spending most of your time.”

“So the perimeter?” Vivi took her hand. It was warm. 

Haseul pulled her up with surprising ease. The effects of whatever training she’d had? 

Vivi noted they were the same height. Then she wondered why that stuck out to her. 

"There's a basin there for you to clean your teeth. I wasn't sure if you had anything, so there's," Haseul chuckled, "that." She slipped out of the tent then. 

The paste for teeth cleaning was almost sweet. Vivi wondered if that was supposed to be healthy. She did have some things with her, but she'd not unpacked them yet. She also hadn’t really wanted the other two to see all she’d taken from her life before.

She shared a tent with Haseul and Yeojin. As she brushed her teeth, Vivi realised that Yeojin wasn't there. Either she was an early (late) riser, or Haseul had let Vivi sleep in. 

When she got out of the tent, it was far from dark. Even more than yesterday, many fires were lit around the camp. The light from them flickered across the tents, made from a material similar to the one of the clothes. The tents were tall constructs with flowing sides. Nothing that looked like it could withstand rough weather, but if it was true that the Astra worked with the elves in the north or the mountains, then they’d have the magic to handle that. Vivi was pretty sure that was the case, as she’d rarely felt so comfortable and warm in the autumn. 

As the two of them walked through the camp, some elves looked over with questioning gazes. Thankfully, there were only a few glares. All glowed softly, be it from their skin or their eyes. That didn’t seem to expend their moonlight. She had the suspicion that holding the light was more difficult than expelling it. 

What it all cemented for her was that the elves feared the dark. Sleeping during the day meant they felt safe even when so many others were awake. So the night, while as comfortable for them as the day was to Vivi, still held its own threats. That was probably most prominent when the moon wasn't in the sky. Did it have to do with the spirits or did the elves just really not like darkness?

There was a lot consider and it came with even more questions. These elves had lived their eternal lives with a connection to the moon. Vivi had spent hers living with rock, learning all she could about it. She’d learned how to find minerals. It took a headache-inducing effort, but she could control them. Would it be just as bad when she started trying to control light? Probably. 

“You have the face,” Haseul said. They were at the edge of the forest now. Another place Vivi would have to learn the layout of. 

“What face?” When Vivi looked over, she nearly returned the smile Haseul sent her. She stopped it before it could form. 

The elf’s skin was brighter now. “The one where you’re deep in thought. I’ve seen many fae with that look, as well as some rare exceptions among the elves.” She waved a hand across her face. “I for one’ve never had it on me.” 

“We—the fae always thought your elders were responsible for learning—discovering more about your magic.” All while the rest lived on, their focus on the other elements life had to offer. Things Vivi knew she would have to grasp as well. Learning about what made the light powerful wouldn't be on her list of priorities. 

“A few are,” Haseul shrugged, “but a couple breakthroughs are usually made from the ones you don’t expect.” Her eyes twinkled. Her entire being gave off light in an otherwise dark forest. It made the gnarled roots and thick trunks much less threatening. 

“But don't you wonder at who first found out how to wield moonlight?” Vivi asked. When it came to the elements, much of it tended to be serendipitous. They encouraged that too. 

Haseul smiled, but there was something else to her gaze. Embarrassment? “You’re going to think I’m terrible, but no.” She directed them to a more well-trodden path. “I think you found it out for yourself, or? That using the light can be instinctive. It’s not like learning how to make a sigil.” 

“I suppose,” Vivi frowned, “but to know what you call upon and how you really do it—that can broaden your understanding even more.” Many times she’d broken rocks apart by hand and examined their layers. To her surprise, she’d learned that the layers had come along at different times. She could differentiate between that, sometimes drawing out one layer completely. Sometimes the oldest one was the strongest, other times it was one in the centre. 

“Do you learn to walk by studying how the bones and muscles work?” Haseul flexed her arm. “Do you strengthen them by knowing exactly how the process works?” 

“You can find more effective ways of training them. Or healing them. Any good healer'll pinpoint what’s wrong and know which treatment to apply.” 

“When I teach you how to use the moonlight, it'll mostly go off of feeling.” Haseul tilted her head. “Once you get that, you can nail down how we do what we do.” A small smile. “And teach me.” 

Vivi looked at her, trying to see if she was making a jest. There was no sign of humour in Haseul's eyes, only sincerity. 

There was a glow to their left. It was pale pink. 

Vivi stopped then. "Is that normal for it to be here?" she asked as the deer spirit approached them. It was looking at her. Although they weren't supposed to be sentient, Vivi could've sworn the spirit had a kind gaze. 

"They feel safe enough to approach. There's also just two of us."

"Not what I meant," Vivi said. "On my way here, I gave this spirit light. It was one of the ones hunting me." She tentatively reached out. The deer nudged her hand with its nose. 

Haseul knelt down beside her, her brow furrowed. "This exact one?"

Vivi nodded. "Unless pink deer are so very common." And a part of her felt she knew this spirit. Was she recognising the light within it? She had no idea. 

"They're not." She looked between them. "Should we keep going? It'll follow." 

At that, Vivi wondered if the spirit had a gender. She dismissed the thought. She'd known of them before coming here, but only vaguely. Haseul would explain more about it later. 

They kept walking. The spirit did indeed follow them. It wasn't looking expectantly at her. If anything, it seemed content to stroll through the woods. Vivi found that stranger than much of what she'd been seeing lately. That was saying something. 

Soon, the line of trees receded and they came to a river. Vivi hadn’t been listening for the rushing water. Now the sound filled her ears. 

Someone was already there. 

Haseul nodded to Jinsoul downriver. “Busy again?” 

She held five spheres of water aloft. The water flowed slowly within whatever power held them in that shape. Around the elf were several waterskins. 

“Hey,” Jinsoul grinned, “how’s the early rising going?” 

Right, Jinsoul would've also had this phase. 

“Difficult,” Vivi replied. “What is,” she trailed off, gesturing to the water. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the deer plod off back into the forest. Was three too many or did it not like the water?

Said water began to glow, streams of white appearing and then spreading throughout the spheres. 

“We drink it and use it for healing,” Jinsoul said. 

“It can be consumed?” Light becoming physical was difficult to grasp already, but drinking it? 

Jinsoul smiled. “Weird, I know, but this way we get the strength a little differently. A little stronger, actually.” The first sphere flowed neatly into a waterskin. The elf put on the cap and moved on to the next. There were at least thirty waterskins. She was the only one doing the filling. For a moment, Vivi wondered if it was because she wasn’t born into the clan. Then she dismissed that. She probably was the only one who could control water here. 

“Did you learn how to do that?” 

“A couple of us figured it out. Not like the one-man investigations done by the fae.” She filled another. “But no one can do this. At least not neatly." 

“How do you have enough for that today?” Vivi asked. She'd have many questions for these people. They'd have to accept that. Was this 'water duty' the reason Jinsoul couldn’t be on the patrol? Jungeun had mentioned something about not having enough light after that. Either that, or Jungeun was avoiding her. Or both. 

Jinsoul shrugged. “We always have some light. There's some to be gotten during the day and being out now.” After a small pause, she winked. “Probably not and explanation you’d like.”

It probably made her fit the stereotype of the fae, but it was true. “No,” Vivi admitted. “And don’t get me started on the light melding with the water.” 

“We set you off, didn’t we?” Haseul chuckled.

“Maybe,” she said. 

“You already have theories for it, right?” Jinsoul sat up. The balls of water flowed faster. Was she actually interested? 

Vivi looked between them. Haseul nodded, her green eyes bright—well, there hadn't been a moment when they weren't bright.

“It could be from the stars,” Vivi said. “But I think it’s more likely that more forms of nature store moonlight naturally. And you absorb that without knowing it.” 

“So water, foods, and trees?” Haseul looked around then, squinting. "It's been absorbing it this whole time then?" 

“The ground as well.” Vivi knelt and pressed a hand to it. “If I had the focus you have, perhaps I could find it.” 

“You can feel the traces of it,” Jinsoul was looking at the water, “not enough to have any big effect, but still cool.” Her smile grew. “Jungeun’ll get a kick out of that.” Her smile faltered in that moment. She continued to fill the waterskins. “I also haven’t used much since we found each other.”

Vivi nodded and pulled at the stones in the stream, making a tiny basin. She lifted it to drink. 

“I have a feeling you’ll end up answering many of your own questions,” Haseul said. She sighed. “You probably think we never think for ourselves.” There was an edge to her gaze.

Vivi had the strong sense this wasn't just about moonlight. She wouldn't press that. 

“It’s how I grew up,” Vivi replied. “The questioning that we do can be overwhelming.” She'd come to love that part of her life, but it'd been difficult to learn how to learn. Neither the humans nor the elves were bound to do such a thing. Some witches seemed to be an exception, but Vivi had despised most of the ones she'd met. 

“But you ask things we probably should’ve figured out ourselves.” Haseul let out a dry laugh. Bitter. "A long time ago."

Vivi shook her head. "As you said, not knowing it didn't affect how you learned. Does what I told you, what you just found, really help with anything?” 

Jinsoul's brow rose. “You don't think so?” 

She shrugged. “We just found out that light's all around us. It doesn’t say much else.” There might have been something there. Vivi might've been interested on another day, in another circumstance, but she found she didn't quite care. 

"But for you, and I don't just mean the fae," Haseul was frowning, "isn't curiosity on its own valuable?"

Vivi nodded. There was the chance she’d be seen as very 'un-fae'. She knew that and it would be alright. Maybe better. “It should be.” 

"But not for you?" Haseul looked almost concerned now. What was bothering her?

She just shook her head. It felt like a sudden change. She had been wondering about the moonlight and how it worked. When had that become a reflex rather than an urge to simply know? Had something been drained from her overnight? Or had it been building and only broken through now?

Vivi didn't know, all she was sure of was that moonlight wasn't like stone, where she'd wanted to know all she could. Moonlight was something completely different. And she was quickly finding that she didn't want to repeat the process of learning how to use it. 

"Not anymore."

Chapter Text

Tonight was just a patrol of the forest. They didn’t have to go into the town to ask after spirit sightings. Jungeun always preferred simply looking for the spirits. Not because she didn’t like humans, but because that sort of search was always exhausting It always involved eavesdropping wherever she could and keeping actual contact to a minimum. Usually people recognised her, even if she didn’t have her light hair. At least simply eavesdropping let her be seen as a wanderer instead of someone who always asked after weird sightings. Otherwise they’d think she was a witch. 

“When’s Viian going to replace me?” Chuu asked. There was a smile on her face. 

“She’ll be joining these once she's got a grip on the basics,” Jungeun replied. 

A small pause. 

“Please don’t tell me this is you protecting her.” Chuu sighed. “She doesn’t even know what you’re protecting her from.” 

Jungeun frowned. “Viian doesn’t know how much light she can hold yet. And she hasn’t even gone through a full moon yet.” It would be mad to let the newcomer on patrols like these now. She would, but only when Viian knew her limits and was strong enough. 

“And what’s Freya going to think if she’s not doing her duty?”

“She knew full well what she was putting her up to,” Jungeun shot back. “And if anyone’s got a problem with it, I’ll drag ‘em to the next spirit pair and tell them to fight with a steel sword.”

Chuu chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ve got no problem at all.”

She felt herself smile. “I know.” 

Another pause. 

“Yerim’s also wondering why she’s only gone to towns so far.” 

Jungeun sighed. “You were the one who said it’d overwhelm her.” 

Yerim had developed the abilities of a seer ten or so years ago. Uncommon among the Astra, unheard with anyone who wasn’t born an Astra. Seeing the potential paths of elves, spirits, humans, and animals had completely overcome Yerim on a patrol. 

It was on that day that Jungeun had found out Chuu was a seer. Yerim had told her she needed to get Chuu and she hadn’t told her why. 

“I know,” Chuu said. “But she’s getting better. You can’t use it as an excuse anymore.”

Jungeun fought her next sigh. She wished she could explain herself, but Chuu barely agreed with her as it was. She didn’t want to open that discussion yet. 

“And what about—” Chuu began. 

She raised a hand. “Jinsoul’s got a lot to do with Nuala. She'll be too tired by the time patrol comes around.” 

“And when there’s a full moon?”

Jungeun knew what she was getting at. She knew what the unspoken question was. 

Do you really want to keep avoiding her? 

The answer was yes. 

“Not now,” Jungeun said. 

Chuu’s eyes glittered. She got awfully talkative during patrols. Jungeun liked it. It meant Chuu trusted her enough to be open about her fears and what she saw. It also meant that Jungeun didn’t have to filter her thoughts as much. 

“Did you tell her yet?” Chuu asked. Her eyes were fixed on the forest. 

Already, just the mention of it gave Jungeun a burst of shame. Jinsoul still didn’t know that Yerim was a seer. 

“No.” It wasn’t because Jungeun didn’t trust her. She knew Jinsoul would keep the secret better than she could. 

Chuu looked both conflicted and confused. 

“Yerim doesn’t want to yet.” 

Chuu looked guilty then. “Got it.” 

And Jungeun knew she understood. Both her and Yerim were afraid of how people would look at them. Most seers were held at arm’s length. Usually. 

Jungeun fought a sigh. Getting people to accept Yerim as a seer would take years. And if Chuu had been able to keep it a secret almost her entire life, then so would they. 

“But should I start encouraging her?” Chuu asked.

Jungeun gave her a look. 

She blushed. “I know, not the right person for that.”

“I’ll say.” Jungeun smiled. “She’ll be hurt that we kept it a secret for this long, but I know she’ll understand.” 

Chuu nodded, her gaze distant. They always were whenever this came up. The list of people who knew about being a seer was small. It included Chuu's mother, but not the other two people most close to her. 

“Something happened,” Chuu began, “with Chaewon.” 

Jungeun frowned at that. “She got better?” As much as she wanted to dislike the girl, she couldn’t ignore the fact that Gowon’s light had faded the day of Hyejoo’s banishment. And both Chuu and Yves lived with that guilt, while also being rejected by people they’d once called friends. 

“No,” she said. “She just found out that the bond between them hadn’t vanished.” 

“They had a bond?” 

Chuu pursed her lips, regret flashing across her face. Still, Jungeun was flattered she was willing to talk to her this openly. She felt like she could trust her. And she could. The same for Jungeun. 

“Why didn’t you tell her?” 

“It wouldn’t have helped anyone,” Chuu said. “She would’ve tried to follow it, or make someone help her do it. And she hasn’t stopped looking at what’s left of it.” 

“She can see it?” The bond that the moon put between people was almost always only visible if the two people accepted it. Jungeun didn’t understand it. She didn’t want to ask about it either. There was the obvious reason that it was a sensitive topic, especially for Chuu. It also had the chance to lead to conversations she didn't want. Jungeun wasn’t even sure if she was bound to someone. She also didn’t want to know. 

“Yes. I don’t know why either, but it started to hurt her.”

Jungeun tried to think of a reason why. She was still reeling from the fact that Gowon and Hyejoo were bonded by the light, as well as the fact that their bond was still there. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

Chuu continued. “It might’ve been from her directly, but I don’t think so. It might have to do with whatever she’s doing right now. That she’s making decisions that’re taking her further away than she was.”

She had a hard time believing that. “The day we abandoned her wasn’t enough?” 

Chuu flinched. “It changed her, broke the bond, but,” she trailed off. “I don’t know. I just know it’s not good.”

“But how?” Jungeun had to press her. 

“The bond’s made of darkness,” Chuu whispered. “Starts grey, because of Chaewon’s light, but it turns black at this distance.” She held her hand half a metre away from her chest. “And it used to be grey and faded. Now it’s sharp, like glass.”

“And darkness,” Jungeun finished. “Do you think it could hurt them both? Get even worse?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged, “but how can we know that? No one’s ever had something like this.”

“No one you know,” Jungeun replied. 

Chuu’s brow furrowed. “No one’s got bonds leading somewhere else like that. Not even the eldest.” 

So no one had been bonded to a person they’d forced out. When Jungeun had first asked, Chuu had said there’d never been someone like Hyejoo before. Except Chuu was far from being the oldest elf. And Jungeun had already asked Haseul, someone who wasn’t against being critical of her people. She didn’t know about it either. 

But there were many Astra even older than her. Jungeun couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened before. Still, they wouldn’t be solving this tonight. Or in the next years, probably. 

“At least I know what Yerim was worried about now,” Jungeun said. Yerim had been getting nervous and restless recently. Jungeun had thought she’d just been looking over to Chuu a lot, perhaps for reassurance. It must’ve been both Chuu and Gowon. 

“She saw that too?” Chuu’s brow rose. 

“Was she not supposed to?” 

She shook her head. “It’s just,” she bit her lip, “seeing the bonds is harder. And it’s even more confusing. At first you can’t even follow them.” 

Jungeun didn’t know what to make of that. She also knew that she’d have to be careful with what she asked Yerim. If she could see the bonds, Jungeun didn’t want to accidentally find out something she didn’t want to know, or what others didn’t want her knowing. 

Out here, away from the camp, with just the two of them, Jungeun saw how uncomfortable this topic actually made Chuu. She hid it well. That skill had come from years of training and fear of being discovered. It was sad how desperate she was to keep it a secret, but Jungeun understood. She just wished Chuu didn’t have to. 

So she changed the topic, not completely, but at least away from bonds. 

“Yerim’s not liking what she’s seeing,” Jungeun said. “It scares her.” And Yerim tried to hide it, but whenever she looked Jungeun’s way, her brow furrowed. She was always watching out for a change in the light. Always looking into the near future, just in case something could change. Other seers did that and it'd usually infuriated Jungeun. At least with Yerim she knew it was just because she was worried. Even if she didn't have to be. Not now at least.

Chuu nodded, looking both sad and understanding. “At this point, she’ll think every little change is important.”

“And is it?” They’d touched on the subject a few times, but unless Yerim was telling Jungeun about what she was going through, the topic of the future and its workings were a complete mystery to her. She wanted to keep it that way, but if learning more about it meant she could smooth out Yerim's almost daily frowns, then she’d force herself to ask those questions. 

“The future changes just as many times as it stays constant.” Chuu shrugged. “I try to tell her that, but with how the spirits are getting more aggressive,” a small sigh left her, “it doesn’t help.” 

That meant the people who were at risk of getting hurt and they did get hurt. Both Yerim and Chuu had said it was a change in the light, one that made them feel unsettled. Depending on what was going to happen, they either felt uneasy, or outright scared. With how often people came back bleeding from spirit attacks, or the, thankfully, rare, death from a spirit attack, Jungeun could hardly blame the worry of both. 

“So if I think about stubbing my toe?” Jungeun asked. “Then decide not to a bunch of times?”

Chuu gave her a look. “Take it seriously.”

“I am.” She had the thought of ramming her foot into the next tree. She was just about to run for it when a hand closed around her arm. 

“You do that and I’ll tell Yerim the person she looks up to is a fool.”

Jungeun winked. “She knows that already.” She couldn’t help but marvel at Chuu’s reaction time. She wondered if the light flickered or if it was just a feeling that something bad was going to happen. 

Chuu nodded. Her light eyes flicked from the sky and back down to the forest. There was a furrow in her brow. 

It was then that Jungeun sensed something off in the forest. She turned her attention to the space around them. There were two brighter spirits following them, but the ones that wouldn't attack. There was something else to their far left. She could never pinpoint where the spirits were, nor properly distinguish between them. They were just a feeling of cold and an absence of light. Like the range of a fire, but in reverse. 

“This way,” she said, leading to them to the left part of the forest. She summoned a sword. “Do you see a fight happening?” 

Chuu sighed. That was enough. 

“You watch for the second, I’ll go for the first,” Jungeun said. 

You always had to look out for a partner. 

Not always, she thought, thinking of the aggressive pale spirits. The fox that'd chased Viian had  been alone. 

Pushing down those questions, Jungeun crept through the trees, heading straight for the swathe of darkness she saw. She spotted a dark red figure. Only one spirit. 

As they got closer, it turned. Had it heard them? They could only see and feel. 

Not anymore. Jungeun summoned a rush of flames and light. It streamed towards the spirit. Jungeun threw herself after it, blade raised above her head. 

The spirit flapped its wings, flying off a small way’s away. It weaved away from the flames, but some caught its tail. That segment turned a brighter red and there was a shrill sound from the owl. 

Jungeun’s sword sank into the ground. The strength of her jump caught up with her. Pain shot up her arm and she stumbled to the ground as well. 

There was a sound, as though glass were being smashed together, shrieking in the process. There was a bird call in that too, but it was twisted. 

Jungeun got to her feet, using her good arm to take the blade from the earth as Chuu caught up. Either she’d dealt with the other spirit, or it wasn’t there. 

The spirit had the form of a large owl. Jungeun had to dodge as it dove towards her with a surprising display of speed. 

“Is there another?” she barked out. 

“No,” Chuu shot back. A moment later. "Let me handle it!"

Jungeun ignored her and leapt after the owl, swiping out as it tried some manoeuvre to turn around. The blade cut across its back, creating a streak of bright red. Not enough. 

The wing went back, slashing across her cheek. It was so cold it burned. The owl had slowed its movement then. Jungeun summoned a second blade and drove both into the spirit’s torso. The sound it let out was almost a scream. Jungeun flinched. 

One of the swords melted into it, turning its feathers bright red. But it still wasn’t fully turned. That should’ve been the blow that got it. 

The owl rounded on her again, going for a blow with its beak. Jungeun angled her head away, but the thing threw its entire body at her. The contact froze the skin beneath her clothes. It’d scratched her all across her front. 

Once that would’ve been impossible. Now it was their reality. 

There was a dull thud, like a heavy sack landing on the floor. The owl was thrown off of her. 

Jungeun could barely move to look at it. She felt drained now. 

The second blade had dissolved. A low hoot left it. Chuu stood over the spirit as it turned completely red. 

When the light engulfed its head, its eyes turned from black to blue. A very familiar shade. They were full of pain. 

Jungeun looked away. A coincidence. It was just a coincidence. 

“Jungeun.” Chuu appeared above her, the staff she’d used already absorbed. “Are you alright?” 

She looked to the speaker, glad she could direct her attention somewhere else. Her face felt like ice. The owl’s talons had cut across her abdomen, but the cuts weren't deep. Still, her body felt freezing. 

Chuu was frowning between her and the spirit. Then the confusion was gone, replaced by concern. 

“Let’s get back.” 

Jungeun rolled her eyes. “These’re just scratches.”

Chuu shook her head. “Believe me when I say we’re going home. Now.” She took out her waterskin and poured its contents over her. 

It burned. 

Jungeun hissed and shifted away. 

“It’ll help,” Chuu said. Her light eyes were hard, the edges around them tight with worry. Then she hauled her up. 

Jungeun risked a glance at the spirit. 

The owl looked at them with inquisitive eyes. Those blue eyes. The expression that shouldn’t have been there. 

She looked away again. She thought of Jinsoul as she spoke about fusing moonlight with water and how her eyes would light up when she used her abilities. Jungeun pushed the thoughts away. 

Instead she asked, “why does it feel like they can think?” Even before she’d come to the Astra, they’d told her that the spirits may take on the forms of animals, may show pain, but they weren’t alive. And each time Jungeun had faced one, no matter if light or dark, she’d wondered if that was true or not. 

Chuu was quiet for a long moment. 

The spirit followed them, hopping as it did, hardly flapping its wings. It made sounds as it rustled along the ground. Jungeun had only just gotten used to the physical damage they could do, but this was still unexpected. 

“Because you’re paying attention,” Chuu said. A small pause. “They were always like that.” 

Jungeun glanced at her. Though her injuries hurt, though they were slowly freezing, she could still hear an edge to the other’s tone. 

And she saw a strange longing in Chuu’s eyes, joined with sadness. 

Just seeing it made Jungeun feel heavy and she wanted to ask what it meant. But that same expression stopped her. 

Chuu had already told her so much. She didn’t have to say more. 

And Jungeun was really cold. The cold didn’t spread, but it overwhelmed the rest of her that was warm. 

Her thoughts went to one person then. Her blue eyes wouldn’t be filled with curiosity, but frustration and worry. 

Jinsoul was not going to be happy. 

Chapter Text

Jinsoul squeezed out glittering water from the cloth. It trickled down onto Jungeun’s cheek and down her neck. She pulled the dirty water away. A simple task, but she usually liked watching the water moving on its own. 

“You’re mad.” Red eyes looked up at her. They were pale. Drained.

She didn’t answer. She soaked the cloth again and repeated the process. 

“You don’t have to do this now,” Jungeun said. 

She really didn’t. The sun was slowly rising. Jinsoul should’ve already been sleeping. There was a time when Jungeun would’ve already gone to bed a few hours ago, but she’d only come back now. 

Jinsoul had stayed awake, checking the state of what elixirs they did have, as well as the waterskins and how much they had. She'd almost lost ways of wasting her time. 

Then Jungeun and Chuu had come back, one of them with torn, blood-soaked clothes and dull eyes.

It had looked like Jinsoul’s nightmares had come true. Until she’d gotten closer to see that no wound had been deep. Even then, there was too much darkness and not enough light to counter it. 

Jungeun’s next word was said softly. “‘Soul, I—”

“I am mad.” 

Silence. 

Jinsoul took the rest of the clean water and let it rise in lazy circles. She was tired and the tugging sensation at her mind was nearing a headache. 

Jungeun’s dim eyes followed it. They looked more vibrant now, but they were still a shadow compared to what they actually were. 

Jinsoul made the water cover the wound. It almost looked like a burn mark. Jinsoul tried not to dwell on that. Fire also hadn't been the reason for that either. 

The rest of it slid down Jungeun’s neck. It did soak her clothes further, but she’d already cleaned that part.

She knew Jungeun was on the verge of saying something else. 

Instead of looking up, she began with the sigil. Already, the light in the water was starting to work. Only starting. It should've been working faster.

Jinsoul focused on the light in her own mind, drew out light from herself, and let it flow into the water. It made her headache worse. 

“Don’t overdo it,” Jungeun muttered. “They’re just scratches.”

“You overdid it,” Jinsoul replied. She tried to keep her voice level. “A normal dose should’ve already gotten rid of most of it."

To make it worse, Jungeun had used up too much light. Even Viian's revelation that the light was absorbed by everything around them still didn't mean Jungeun had unlimited amounts to use.  

“We know they pack a bigger punch,” a small shrug, “at least now you can quantify it.”

A shout rose up in her throat. Jinsoul pushed it down. “That’s not what you need to be figuring out.” She completed the sigil. The water became firm on Jungeun’s cheek. 

“I know." Jungeun gave her a tiny smile. “But it’s one way we can look at this as being a good turn of events.”

There it was: the optimism Jinsoul could rarely stay angry at. Except for tonight. 

Tonight she just sighed. Her head hurt, she was tired, and getting even more frustrated. Jungeun could go on those patrols with Chuu, leave Yerim and her out of it, but she still let Jinsoul heal her if she got hurt. It made her wonder why. Did Jungeun just not want her on patrol or was there something else?

“Why can’t you just wait for me?” Jinsoul asked. 

Jungeun’s brow furrowed. “Wait for you?”

“Then you wouldn’t have to walk all the way over here, soaking your clothes and shivering.” Looking like a ghost, she added in her head. “Chuu told me you took the spirit by yourself.” So Jungeun hadn't gone with Chuu because she needed her in a fight. She almost never needed someone with her for that. 

“She told you, or you made her tell you?” Jungeun glanced up, before looking away again.

“Both.” Jinsoul had told Chuu to make sure Jungeun didn’t charge in without thinking. She knew the elf had tried, but it was hard to stop someone who moved like the fires she conjured. 

“I told her to look for the second spirit, but this one was alone.”

It was the truth, but Jungeun had gotten creative in the last years. She’d take on the stronger of a pair or manage to take the one with the least darkness more quickly before joining you with the other one. 

No matter what happened, she always managed to expend the most light. And usually get the most injuries even if those were just scratches. 

“Let me come with you,” Jinsoul said. “We haven’t been out in weeks.” 

Jungeun opened her mouth. 

“Getting Viian doesn’t count.” 

She closed it. Her brow furrowed. “I want you there too,” she said. “But right now, when there’s not enough light for more than two spirits,” she trailed off, “and with you working like you are, it’s just not safe.”

“And it’s safe for you?” Jinsoul knew the words came out a hiss. 

Jungeun’s eyes widened at that. “Safer. Patrol’s the only thing I do. You’re doing everything you can here.” 

“Then what about when the moon’s full? When I have enough light leftover?” she asked. “What’s the excuse going to be then?”

Silence. 

Jinsoul saw Jungeun’s guilt before she felt her own pain. Of all the emotions to bring to Jungeun's eyes, guilt was one of the last, but she wanted to know. 

“‘Soul,” Jungeun murmured. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” 

Jungeun bit her lip. “But I mean it.” 

“Then if you’re not doing it because of that, then why?” Jinsoul asked. “Because protecting me isn’t the right answer if you’re not even protecting yourself.” 

Jungeun didn’t respond. The water on her cheek fell away, the wound now much better than it had been. Jinsoul still didn’t know how fast it would heal, especially with how the spirits were changing. What if the wounds they inflicted would last longer, even if you handled it with magic?

No matter the case, she’d give her a healing potion tomorrow. Something about Jungeun’s injuries seemed off. She’d felt the same thing about the others she’d tended to. Even Nuala was more alert when it came to them. 

Jungeun was the first one to break the silence again. “If you get hurt, it's someone who heals and someone who fights,” she said. “I get hurt and it’s just one who fights.” 

Jinsoul disagreed with a lot of things in that sentence. She started to protest, but Jungeun kept going. 

“You’re the best of both worlds, I’m only in one of them.” Jungeun's eyes flicked between hers and the ground. “You're one of the best healers we have and—and there’s only one person who can infuse water with light.” Now Jungeun held her gaze. “Yerim’s joining you once she figures out how to work light into the plants and Nuala’s realised that she needs you, especially now. We all need you here.” 

But I need you, Jinsoul thought. She didn’t dare say it. She hated how Jungeun was right. She also hated how it matched exactly with what Jungeun did anyway. 

“But, on the full moon,” Jungeun put a hand to her shoulder, “we go. You, me, and Yerim.” 

In the back of her mind, Jinsoul was glad that Chuu wasn't included in that. She felt guilty for feeling that. 

Despite her leftover frustration, Jinsoul still smiled. “Okay.” 

_____

“How about this,” Haseul clasped her hands together, “the magic we’re most closely tied to, or at least have been for the longest, is the easiest to call upon. Like how a sigil'll take me ages, but if I make it out of light, I get it right sooner.” 

“So you want me to call on the rock?” Vivi crossed her arms. 

She nodded. 

Vivi fought a sigh, feeling more than at a loss for what to do. Digging deep into the ground, she made a sliver of the stone liquid and brought it up. It slid out of the ground in thin grey tendrils.

Haseul’s eyes were locked on it, mouth slightly agape. 

She made it solidify in a block and let it fall on the ground. 

“That’s really amazing.” Haseul knelt down, inspecting it. 

She was about to dismiss it as the elf’s attempt to make her feel better when she saw her expression. It was pure interest, a big contrast to the frown she’d worn before. Interestingly enough, Vivi hadn’t thought it was because she was there. 

She’d been hearing murmurs about other elves, something brief about a person called Olivia, and complaints about injuries they'd gotten days ago. All by dark spirits, despite them having all the means to heal those wounds. 

Where Haseul fit in there, Vivi didn't know yet. She also wasn't sure if she was allowed to ask or not. Haseul would probably tell her, but what would be running through the eavesdroppers' heads? They still looked at Vivi as if she wasn’t supposed to be there and a part of her agreed. She was also sure those looks would still be there next year. Probably longer. 

Haseul reached out tentatively, finally touching it. “It’s cold?” 

Vivi smiled. “It’s from several meters below. Of course it is.” 

“So there’s no heat added to it?” She tapped it, as if checking if it were hollow. 

“No,” she replied. “Just magic.” 

Haseul smiled. “Just magic,” she repeated. Then she straightened. “Put moonlight in it. Make it glow.” A pause. “Pull it apart first and call on something else. Think of how you’d make it stronger.” 

Vivi divided it into drops of stone. She watched them flow, their surfaces rippling in the air. She tried to dig within herself. She’d been in the moonlight night, not even sleeping. Now she was exhausted, but still felt well rested. So it was no fluke that people believed she had a tie to the moon. At least there was that. 

She found nothing. 

Haseul stepped closer, avoiding the droplets of rock. “Place your focus on the different parts of your body.” She raised a hand. “May I?”

Vivi didn’t know what she was really asking for. She still nodded. 

Warm fingers touched the center of her chest. “Only pay attention to where my hand is.” 

It must’ve looked bizarre from afar, but if this worked, Vivi wouldn’t let herself think too much of it. 

Haseul smelled like a forest after rain. Her breathing was easy, and her gaze gentle, only on Vivi’s eyes. 

It was slightly unnerving. 

“Focus on my hand,” she repeated. 

Vivi did. She only felt the warmth from the hand. Otherwise nothing. 

Then Haseul placed a hand on her shoulder. Nothing 

Her other shoulder. Nothing. 

Her stomach. 

Arms. 

Hands. 

Knees. 

Feet. 

Nothing. 

Vivi laughed. “What’s next? My nose?” 

Haseul straightened. “Actually your waist." She smiled back at her and even gave her a wink. “But maybe.” She placed her hand on Vivi’s forehead. 

There was a tingling sensation. One that yearned to reach for Haseul’s hand. It quelled the frustration that had been building. It settled Vivi’s previously quickened heart. It felt wonderful.

“Oh,” Vivi let out a content sigh, “and how has that escaped my notice?”

Haseul grinned. “You have to become aware of it. Like your heartbeat, breathing, or blinking.” She brushed a thumb across Vivi’s eyebrow. The skin tingled underneath it. “Now direct it at the other part of you. The one holding the rock.” 

Vivi pulled at it. Slowly, the light moved. It felt like lugging a piece of stone with one’s arms. Vivi had trained for that too. She pulled, the strength of her mind definitely undertrained. 

Slowly, it gave way. Vivi pushed it to the stone, before pulling the droplets together. That was easy. Somehow. 

Haseul turned around and laughed. “Yes!” 

Vivi redirected her attention from the very happy elf to the stone. The grey glittered where it hadn’t before, with veins of light coursing through it. 

“Can I try something else?” Haseul pulled her hand away and stood just beside her. 

Their shoulders brushed together. 

“Try it,” Vivi said. 

The rock lifted shakily. 

“Wow,” Haseul breathed out, “that’s strange.” 

“You’re lifting the light part of it?” 

She nodded. “But there’s resistance. A lot of it.” 

“Stone's heavy,” Vivi finished.

Haseul snorted. “Yep.” 

The moonlight-infused rock fell.

The elf went over and picked it up. “Lighter than pure rock,” she looked slightly strained, “but still heavy.” 

Vivi took it from her. She was right. She tossed it between her hands. 

Haseul’s brow was raised as she looked at her. “Show off.” 

She smiled. “It’s training. My magic doesn’t give me even more strength.” Even with supernatural strength, a large chunk of rock wasn't something you lifted without some muscle. 

“So you practiced lifting rocks? With your hands?” 

“Moonlight is, well, light. Easy to swing hard. Rock is rock,” Vivi explained. 

“True,” Haseul nodded, “but the combination might be even better than both.” 

“You think so?” 

“Wolves are beasts,” she said, her green eyes darkening. “Moonlight bothers them, but most attacks are merely splinters for them. And there're spirits that can properly hurt, as you saw.” She shrugged. “So a stronger hit to either would be more effective than the pure light.” 

“Is that why you put elementals on the outside?” Vivi asked. 

“Not officially,” Haseul replied. “To actually say the light is weaker to vampires and such is quite close to blasphemy.”

“And if someone gets killed because they believed in that?”

Haseul’s eyes turned sad. “That’s why we have to acknowledge it in the first place.” 

Something in her voice uncovered a deep pain in Vivi. It wasn't hers, but felt for this person she barely knew. Haseul was a leader. While there were some who clearly didn’t respect her, let alone like her, they acknowledged that fact. It seemed a few had been taught by Haseul, despite her not being so experienced. What mistakes had she made?

“Well,” Haseul smiled, “I’d call this a successful session.” The corners of her mouth trembled, as though forcing the smile was taking a toll on her muscles. 

“You want me to do something else,” Vivi said. She could see it. She’d also try it if that took Haseul’s mind from whatever dark place she was in. 

“Maybe.” Her eyes regained their spark. Maybe that was another thing about her. She was resilient to her pain. “My plan was getting you doing precision work so you can make something like this.” She twirled her dagger. It had grooves in the handle and a serrated edge. Precision. “But I think it’ll be enough if you can do that with a dagger of stone, but there’s light in the blade.”

“Sounds very simple,” Vivi grumbled. “It took me very long to be precise with stone.” 

“So you’ll know the steps you have to take.” Haseul winked. “But I’m just here to teach you the ways of the Astra,” a serene expression appeared, “patience, discipline, and bigotry.”

She let out a laugh. ”So far, you’ve been doing alright with all but the third one.” 

The smile that earned her was as bright as the moon itself. It was like the first time she’d heard Haseul's voice. Vivi’s eyes focused in on it fully, almost completely ignoring the woods around them. 

They kept up the training. It involved getting Vivi to make a blade out of stone and light. It took long, but Haseul never got impatient. She only made small jokes here and there with a glow to her that wasn’t a result of the moonlight.

Vivi found herself enjoying the day—night—the longer it went on. She was disappointed when she finally figured it out and they went back to the camp. Compared to what had come before and what was probably going to come after, it'd been a good day.  

Chapter Text

Let me come with you. 

How Jungeun wished she could’ve said yes. She only really ever saw Jinsoul when she got back from patrol. The other elf always worked until then. And she was always there if Jungeun ever got hurt. A part of her wondered if Jinsoul felt like she had to wait for that. A few times she’d been proven right.

They usually didn’t eat together either, so each time they did see each other, both of them were too tired to really say anything. 

Except for yesterday. They’d spoken more than they had in weeks. And it'd been a conversation Jungeun had wanted to avoid more than anything. 

Jungeun heard rustling then. She let fire course across her fingers, her other hand ready to summon moonlight, but she had to use that sparingly. She still felt drained since the last injury, but a day and a half had passed since then. The spirits really were leaving lasting marks on them.

Between the leaves, Jungeun saw red. It wasn’t a dark spirit, nor an aggressive light one or else it would’ve attacked by now. More rustling. 

The owl hopped out then. It looked up at her with those strange blue eyes. It recognised her. 

“Hi?” Jungeun frowned. This one had left her side on the way back to camp. Spirits didn’t have memories, but whatever recognition they did have of the person who turned them faded after a few hours. 

This one had come to her more than a day later.  

She kept walking, one eye on the spirit. It followed, flapping its wings now and then. 

Her next idea might’ve been laughed at by everyone at home, but she held out a tiny chunk of moonlight. 

The owl looked at it for a long moment. Then it took the piece with its beak. Jungeun felt its warmth as it did so. It was warmer than most bright spirits who usually had a good balance between warm and cold. 

And to her surprise, the owl ate it. It hooted once. There was a flicker of light that went down its gullet. Then it went to its wings, the tips of its feathers properly sparkling. 

Jungeun could only stare. The spirits remembering, eating. She’d already had an awakening when she realised that spirits felt pain. That’d been when she’d first been chosen by the moon and that‘d been years ago. 

“Nothing on my side,” Chuu said. “But we—“ She cut off when she saw the spirit. “I knew there’d been something weird about that one.” 

The owl hooted again. It looked at Chuu. There was curiosity in its eyes. 

“You knew a spirit can remember things?” Jungeun turned to her. “It even eats!”

Chuu raised a brow. “You’re not afraid of it, are you?”

“No.” She looked back at it. “Just a little.”

The other elf knelt down in front of it, tilting her head as she did. “It’s connected to you. Not in that way, but a little bit.” She smiled slightly. 

Jungeun was lost at how easily this came out of Chuu’s mouth. As if it were so natural that a spirit was acting more like an animal than ever before. If the others heard about this, they’d laugh at her, as they had in the beginning, and tell her she was imagining things. 

And then she remembered when she’d first turned the owl. When she’d wondered aloud about how it felt like the spirits could think. 

“The spirits,” Jungeun began, “you said they’ve always been like this?” This as in sentient, unnervingly so. 

Chuu shrugged. “There were a few times when I think it proved that.” Her eyes had a degree of hesitance. She also hadn’t talked about this a lot. “And it’s not just that every hunt involves us causing them seconds of a lot of pain. They actually make judgements about us, like the way this one trusts you.” 

She frowned. “Then why does everyone think they’re mindless?”

“Not everyone,” Chuu replied. “We just don’t think much into it. We turn the spirits, but if they linger, we just think they’re attracted to the light, and then if they’re in pain, we just know it’s because the light’s destroying the darkness.”

“Did you ever,” Jungeun wanted to be careful with how she asked this, “see something with them? Something else?”

“Well,” Chuu began. She pursed her lips. “When I was little, I’d run off, following a trail. It was one of the first ones I’d seen.”

The trails left by the moon, the ones that showed where you were going to step next. Those sometimes changed, but not always. 

“I found a dark spirit and turned it,” she said. “And after that day it always came to me when I was alone.” The longing in her eyes came around. Had that spirit become something close to a companion at the time? When Chuu had felt the most scared of her abilities?

“What did it look like?” 

“It had dark eyes, a bit like cherry wood,” Chuu replied. “And it’s skin was a paler red, but even at that time, I knew it wasn’t pink.” A pause. Her eyes grew more distracted. “I didn’t know what animal it was. Only when I went to the north once did I learn where it might’ve come from.” She then put her arms out to her sides and waddled. “Walked like this.”

“They’re called penguins.” Jungeun laughed. “But how did it get all the way here?”

She shook her head. “I’ve no idea. My feeling’s that it came here because of the way it was tied to me.” Then she sighed. “But I haven’t seen it since my sight got stronger.” 

“Could you find it if you wanted to?” Jungeun asked. The spirits didn’t exactly disappear, but their light faded over time. That usually took a long time. Again, no one knew why. Maybe Viian would figure it out. Or they’d ask an emotional fairy. They were the only others who could actually turn a spirit. 

“I think it’s been turned,” Chuu muttered. “Twenty years after it disappeared, I felt something sting here.” She tapped a hand to her heart. “And then nothing after that.” Her eyes turned sad. 

“But if you’re tied together,” she took her hand, “then who’s to say you won’t stumble across it again?”

It earned her a smile. “I’m always hoping I will. I liked her.”

“Her?” Jungeun repeated. 

Chuu nodded at the owl. It was still following them. “After a while, you start to pick up on things. For me it was just a feeling. Like how she was actually understanding what I was saying.” 

Jungeun's brow rose. “So that one theory where they’re what’s left of a person.”

She shrugged. “Might actually be true.” 

Jungeun didn’t respond. The spirits might’ve technically been having their own thoughts and feelings. They understood more than people gave them credit for, while most of them just hunted them down. It was easier that way. 

“We’re far enough so I can tell you,” Chuu said. They were still holding hands. Jungeun was glad. “The western Crosa had to deal with calming down a group of men.” 

Jungeun didn’t reply. One encounter with spirits might’ve been the most monumental piece of a mortal’s life, but for them, especially Chuu, it was trivial. There was something else to this one. 

“It was a wolf and a dog. Both bright spirits.”

“And they attacked.” So this really was spreading. Spirits who would’ve normally avoided mortals and never attacked were now aggressive. And all that meant was that more patrols were needed. But they couldn’t somewhere so far away. They didn’t even speak the language. “So we’re bringing light over?” 

Did they even have enough for that? 

“That,” Chuu nodded, “but it’s not why they told us.”

Jungeun waited for the elaboration. There was no need to rush her. And she liked the time Chuu took to form her thoughts. She was also sure the other girl preferred it as well. 

“A pale girl in black turned them dark,” she said. “And they didn’t attack.”

“Hyejoo?” Jungeun turned to her fully. “In the west.”

“That week, the places where they stored valuables, gems and metals, were raided and another house stormed. By humans.” Chuu frowned. “And apparently those were on papers stolen on the day of the attack.” 

And it sank in. Theft. Again. In the beginning, Jungeun had gone to towns further away from theirs. Asking after a dark haired girl hadn’t brought much, not in this area where it was the norm. It was only when she’d found her way to taverns that she’d heard mortals raving about a thief going around.

No one knew who they were, only that they stole food. Two weeks after she’d heard the first accounts, there’d been bright spirits attacking. All of them had been turned to benevolent dark spirits by a slim figure wrapped in darkness. Sometimes it parted to reveal her features, but those who had seen her had been too terrified to remember much. Hyejoo hadn’t had control over it then. 

And then those accounts had faded into stories told to excite newcomers. The theft of food had turned into this dark figure claiming the secrets of a house and their children. It depended on who told it. 

The more Jungeun had gone around, the more the stories seemed to worsen. There seemed to be glimmers of truth, but they didn’t say anything Jungeun or the others had wanted to hear. Hyejoo only came to the towns to steal, not to fight humans.

The worst story she’d heard had been of a minor battle. Towards the end of it, when the sun had fallen away, the soldiers had reported the sound of shrieking animals. Both sides had followed the sounds. Two of them had died, their eyes filled with darkness. 

The implication that carried had terrified Jungeun. 

Nothing like it had ever come again. If there had been anything related to Hyejoo, it was because of brighter spirits being turned dark. Not in the country they called Korea, but in other ones on this landmass. Occasionally, a girl wielding blades of black had gone against guards or groups of soldiers. None had died, but before their memories had been erased, they’d been near traumatised by what they'd seen. But even then, sometimes it wasn't a girl, sometimes it was more. 

Some of them had tried to keep all mentions of it away from the other Astra, but some had seeped through. And they’d only encouraged the elves about their decision. They were suddenly happy that they’d forced Hyejoo out. 

“Hey.” Chuu’s voice was soft. She used their linked hands to pull them both to a stop. “That was all they had to say.” She squeezed her hand. 

“But we’ll have to start preparing,” Jungeun said. That just meant putting aside chunks of moonlight, amassing a good amount of it, before a group of them would take it over. That group usually included Jungeun. She didn’t mind the travel process. 

Chuu nodded, a furrow in her brow. “And we need enough for us.” 

With the amount of injuries they were getting, not having enough moonlight could be dangerous. That just meant they’d all have to work even harder, maybe even cut the amount of people doing patrols. Which meant that those who did go had to do more, or be out longer. Jungeun wasn't sure how most would manage that. 

“Did they tell you?” Jungeun asked. "About Hyejoo?"

She shook her head. “Freya told Eline. She told me.” 

Jungeun was slightly surprised that the elder would’ve told Chuu. Then again, they'd probably developed a trusting relationship over the years. And as seers went, Eline wasn’t intrusive, nor was she ruthless in what truths she told. Still didn't mean Jungeun liked her. 

This just meant that the rest would know it too. And there’d be murmurs about Olivia. Viian would pick up on it too and telling that story would be painful. Jungeun didn’t want Haseul to have to do that, but she also didn’t want to do it herself.

On the other hand, if Heejin or Yeojin told it, Jungeun wasn’t sure if Viian would see Chuu or the others the same again. Had she even met them? 

Jungeun shook her head. She couldn't think about that now.

She tugged on Chuu’s hand so that they kept walking. Then she let go and summoned a sword. She needed to find a spirit to turn. She needed a spirit. She needed a fight.
______

The woman studied her. She must've been what the mortals called 'middle-aged', with faint folds in the skin around her eyes and mouth. She carried herself with the typical posture of a noble. She hadn't given a name.

“You’re younger than I’d thought you’d be,” the lady said. She'd not given her name. When she'd first started out 

Olivia didn’t even bother to correct her. She only watched her. This was a woman who was willing to hire someone to kill another. She was also someone who'd been wronged. They had that in common. 

On the table between them, lay a dagger and a paper.

“If you're who I think you are,” she lifted the piece of paper, “then you’ll be able to reach him with little resistance.”

Olivia didn't ask about what the woman thought she knew.

“And do what?” The words had a rasp to them. Olivia's voice scared people. To her, it was just a voice that had faded with time. 

The woman looked at her, an eyebrow raised. “You’re not going to tell me you’re above killing a man?” Darkness curled around her as she spoke. 

Olivia hadn't always been able to see that until she'd met Alluin. In that group, she'd first sensed immortal darkness that wasn't her own. That'd somehow given her more sensitivity to that in mortals. She barely knew why or how it was supposed to work, only that she saw it.

Still, Olivia wondered if judging this mortal how she was was unfair. She'd lived many more lifetimes than this woman. She should've gotten better. Had Olivia been a better person, she would've turned around now. 

“No.” The human's lip curled upwards. “His name and where he resides are on here.” She placed the sketch back onto the table. "And his face." The darkness grew. 

Olivia walked to the table, watching as the human drew away. She took the paper and the knife. 

“Why this?” Olivia unsheathed it, watching for the woman’s reaction.

She flinched. 

“You’ll leave it there.” Another surge of darkness. 

Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Who's being framed?”

The woman’s brow rose a fraction. “I don’t think you’re in a position to ask such a thing.”

Olivia went forward and pressed the blade to her throat. “Am I not?”

Her eyes widened. “You won’t have your payment.” She was alarmed, but not terrified. She was sure Olivia wouldn't do it. 

She was right. 

“You’ll tell me the reason,” Olivia said. “You’ll explain what your plan is and why I shouldn’t kill you for ordering the death of another.” She lowered the knife. The woman hadn’t called for help when she could have. She must've known the guards wouldn't be able to help. A part of her still wondered what stories she'd heard. Either way, Olivia had never wanted to hear them. She’d never wanted to relive them. 

The woman lifted a hand to her throat. She looked at her with something close to fury, but it was smothered by fear. 

“He’s of fourth senior rank,” she spat. She spoke of the target, not the one she was framing. “And my sister was married to him.” 

“And he had her killed?” 

“She couldn’t give him children.” Her voice was hardly a whisper. “He cast her out.” 

Olivia froze. She thought of loneliness, as well as the quiet outrage that followed. Sometimes it wasn't so quiet. 

“They tell me she’s dead, but there hasn’t been word.” A pause. “Years I’ve waited.” 

She hoped for something that would never come. That took its toll. 

“If there was a body, few might’ve recognised it.” 

The woman scowled. “You don’t think I know that?” A lighter form of the darkness rose: the anger that came from pain. 

“You don’t believe it,” Olivia replied. “Who am I framing?”

She waved a hand. “A supervisor of the area. One who gambles all he can away. Not one would be surprised.” 

She didn’t believe it. There were also Alluin’s words to consider. “I won’t frame another. You want me to do your work, then they’ll know it was me.” She set the blade on the table. It was a beautiful piece. She wondered how the woman had gotten it. Was she even trying to frame someone?

Or was it simply an attempt at something else? Would there be a proper investigation? Possibly. The mortals had strange hierarchies and rules. 

The woman stepped forward, but even that was hesitant. She'd heard enough of the rumours before the witness' minds had been erased. “You cannot deny what I’m asking you.”

“I have.”

This woman didn't know what it actually meant to kill someone in the way Olivia was being asked to do. She barely understood it herself. Alluin had explained to her that a blade of darkness had to be used and left there, not absorbed again. That led to the person being overwhelmed by it. Much like those Olivia had seen in the past—the ones who'd been killed by the spirits they'd fought. 

Her mouth opened and then closed. “Then you won’t have your money.”

“And this man won’t die.” Olivia’s words sounded distant to her ears. She could feel the shadows gravitating towards her, lending her more strength. They were only drawn to her, because she spoke of death so casually. 

The woman stiffened. She looked up at her, eyes still hardened by anger. Even so, fear was bleeding into that mask. 

Olivia realised then that she was drawing on the human's shadow. That never felt right. Olivia occasionally had that effect on mortals and other elves. It was always the one she had on animals and the shadows of inanimate objects. 

“It’s a political move,” she said. “One that could benefit my husband.” 

The callousness of it wasn’t surprising, considering what Olivia had learned of their politics. They achieved their goals by using carefully crafted words and actions. Certain actions could only be made with money or using another person, often employed through money. Words and actions had also been important among the Astra, especially with other elves and the fae, but Olivia had always been kept apart from those encounters. Unless they were fights. 

“Don't explain.” Olivia knew she wouldn’t have been able to understand it. “I’ll take the knife.” She wouldn’t use it for the murder. She’d sell it. 

As she took up the knife, the woman seemed to relax. And then she looked at the space around Olivia. Her eyes widened, her calm expression vanishing.

The human left, though her footsteps had a hurried edge to them. Outside, her guards followed. She hadn't wanted them to come in. Olivia wondered if she'd regretted that decision as the meeting went on. 

She looked at the paper. They'd given her his prominent features: bald, thin lips, and thin spectacles. There were the directions of where he lived, as well as his name. She’d have to ask the people there to tell her of the general area. Then she’d go. 

As she left, Olivia’s hands started to shake. She was in Korea again. She was going to go past the place she’d once called home. And she was going to kill someone. 

Someone who deserves it, she thought. He turned away someone. Left them to die.

When she got into the forest, hands were still shaking. The shadows had started to crawl onto her. 

_______

Yves watched as Chaewon’s hand drifted to her chest. Her brow furrowed. 

“More pain?” she asked.

It was never been hard to figure out that Chaewon and Hyejoo had been connected through the light. While Hyejoo hadn’t been able to use moonlight, she’d been getting a hand at combat. She’d learned the human language Korean well enough to get mortal money together. Once she'd had the right amount, she'd bought weapons of metal. On hunts, Chaewon had covered them with moonlight so that Olivia could tackle one of the spirits, buying them all time until one of them incapacitated it. 

Those blades were always on Chaewon’s bedroll now, hidden beneath the furs. She’d kept them in the same condition they’d been since Hyejoo was banished. She’d gotten what she needed from the same place Hyejoo had gotten them, using broken Korean to find out how to do it herself.

Both Yves and Jiwoo knew about them, but Chaewon always cared for them when she thought they were asleep. In the late morning, Yves would hear the light clinking of the swords in their scabbards as she got up and left the tent. 

In the beginning, Yves had followed. What she'd seen had broken her heart even further. Chaewon had been polishing one blade with a cloth, handling it with more care than she did moonlight. The sunlight had done little to hide the tears streaming down her face.

Yves had known well enough not to go to her, nor offer to help. Even when she woke in the day, only to see Chaewon clinging to the blades, as if she'd needed them to fall asleep. Neither her nor Jiwoo ever commented on those blades nor spoke to her in those moments. Those were the moments Chaewon needed for herself. 

It was only when she came to them, or faltered when she saw one of the benevolent dark spirits, that they were able to show that they were there for her. That hadn’t been happening as often, but it didn’t mean that Chaewon had stopped missing her. 

And now this. 

“It doesn’t hurt,” Chaewon replied. “It just feels strange, like something’s twisting.” 

And might snap, Yves thought. She was scared for both of them. It wasn’t just that they didn’t know what the magic would do to either of them, but they also didn’t know how it would affect them emotionally. 

And now that Chaewon knew that the bond hadn’t faded between her and Hyejoo hadn't vanished completely, what if she lost it again? 

Hyejoo wasn’t going to come back to them. All three of them knew that. Chaewon wasn’t cleaning the blades, waiting for Hyejoo to return and get them. She was cleaning them because they were all she had left. 

“You don’t have to reassure me,” Chaewon muttered. “So let’s move on.” 

Yves could only nod. Chaewon’s maturity had come from guilt and loss, not time. Yves hated that this'd caused smile and dry joking to fade, returning only when it was the three of them and rarely when they were around others. She wished she could reach her properly.

The two of them ate in silence. A way’s away, Yves heard Yeojin’s deep voice as she recounted an embarrassing first attempt at controlling moonlight, probably telling that to the newcomer to ease her doubts. 

In spite of herself, Yves smiled. She would’ve given much to be able to sit at that fire again. To add to that story with Yeojin’s first attempts. Yves and Haseul had split up their lessons for her, Choerry, and Chaewon. 

Those times were well in the past, hidden by the anger and resentment of the rest. She wouldn’t be welcomed at that fire. Neither would Chaewon or Jiwoo. 

The Astra were a large enough group that neither of them ever had to sit alone. When Heejin wasn’t with them, Priad’s group was actually theirs as well. Yves was well aware that most didn’t understand why Heejin hated the three of them. And they were foolish because of it. They barely even recognised that Heejin resented them as well, because they’d also voted against Hyejoo staying. 

Suddenly, something lightened in Yves. She knew the reason why well enough to know where to look and what to expect. The light of the person was always so bright. It could be felt from far away. And it always made her feel better. 

Jiwoo and Jungeun emerged moments later. They were talking about something, both with bright eyes. An easier patrol today. Good.

Then Jiwoo laughed. Even from where she sat, Yves could hear it. 

Should Yves have been happy to hear it? Yes. 

Jiwoo was smiling and laughing genuinely. Her eyes were crinkling exactly right. 

How often had Yves tried everything in her power to make that smile appear? She’d usually succeeded, but she’d had to try. 

Jungeun needed to only make a snide remark or throw a disbelieving look somewhere to get that smile. It was easy. 

And it had become like that ever since Jiwoo started to go on patrols. It was a decision that’d baffled others, so much so that they’d come to Yves to ask why. She hadn’t known, so she’d just said that Jiwoo had had ideas for how to improve the routes and durations of patrol. That’d made people happy. 

That was until Jiwoo’s time on patrol had become something she’d done for a year, then two, and so on. She still came on hunts, but less frequently. And she’d started talking to Choerry more, something Yves had thought was impossible, considering how deeply affected the purple-eyed girl had been by Hyejoo’s banishment. 

There were so many things Yves didn't understand and she'd barely gotten that many explanations. And then Jungeun and Jiwoo had resumed their friendship from before. 

All this, the laughter and mended relationships, should’ve made Yves happy. 

It was all spoiled by her jealousy. 

She knew exactly how pathetic that was. That didn’t mean those feelings stopped. 

Even so, she had to look away. 

“See you tomorrow,” Jungeun said. Her voice sounded gentle. 

“Yeah,” Jiwoo’s voice was also soft, “see you.” 

Yves could feel the shyness there and she didn’t like how that made her feel. She also hated the fact that she felt that way. Especially when she had no right to it. 

When she glanced up, she caught Chaewon looking at her. There was a teasing edge there. In spite of how their conversations had devolved, Yves found herself smiling back as she blushed. 

In what felt like ages, Jiwoo finally came over to their fire. 

“How’d it go?” Yves managed to ask. She passed her a plate. Before a hunt, they always used actual cutlery. The less light they used now, the better. 

Jiwoo took a helping of the grilled fish. “Better than before. We actually fought together instead of Jungeun just handling it all by herself.”

It was only for a moment, but Yves caught Jiwoo looking at the space in front of Chaewon. It was almost imperceptible, but she frowned.

“What changed?” Chaewon had brightened. The furrow in her brow was gone. 

“I think a certain healer criticised her strategy,” Jiwoo replied, a tiny smile. “And she did get hurt on the last one, so it stuck with her.” Then the smile started to fade. “How's Elre?”

Yves shook her head. “Getting worse.” The elf had gotten hurt weeks ago. It was a bad blow, one that had gotten her in the side of her chest. Maeral, another healer, had been speculating about why to Priad's group: the spirit's darkness had seeped in close to her. He’d talked about it a little too loudly and now people were even more worried. 

Jiwoo’s smile was gone. This was the expression Yves was used to seeing now. “Is it weakness or just pain?” 

“Both,” Chaewon said. “Nuala went around to get more light from each of us. It helped with the pain, but she still can’t walk for long enough.”

“Should I?” Jiwoo made to stand. 

Yves reached out to stop her, but the girl jumped before her hand even reached her.

“Sorry.” Yves pulled back her hand. It wasn’t the first time this'd happened. Jiwoo’s peripheral vision had always been incredible. “But if you want to come on the hunt today, you can't spend any more light until then.”

Especially when the moon was only just becoming a proper crescent. It might’ve been better to tell Jiwoo to sit today’s hunt out, but Yves never liked it when their group was made even more incomplete. Here, she’d just have to make sure that it was Chaewon and her who used the most light and not Jiwoo. 

Jiwoo held her gaze for a moment too long. Yves felt the same lightness that she had earlier. 

Then Jiwoo nodded and sat back down. “I wish we knew how to handle this better.” She looked at her plate. She hadn’t taken a bite yet. “And with the rest wanting us to give them some, we’ll have even less if more are getting hurt, or just need enough light to stop the pain.” With each word, she spoke more quickly, hardly stopping to breathe. 

“If the same things are happening out there, they’ll need it more than we do,” Yves said softly. Then she tapped the side of her plate. “Now eat.”

The corner of her lip tugged up. Jiwoo started eating, but the worry still remained on her features. 

It was one Yves understood well, but there wasn’t much they could do. Nuala, Jinsoul and the others responsible for healing had been scrambling to figure out what to do. With the dark spirits, both the 'normal' kind and the more powerful ones, the only solution was light. A lot of it. With some it helped immediately, with others it took some time. In the worst cases, the darkness ate away at the light still left in the person. The darkness always made a person succumb to either anger, sadness, or fear. If the darkness didn’t get taken away soon enough, they died with blackened eyes and frozen skin. 

Yves pushed those images away. Almost all wounds inflicted by darkness weren’t severe, because they were almost always able to turn the spirits fast enough. Even if they were severe, they were almost always able to heal them. 

“Now you’re the one thinking too hard,” Jiwoo muttered between bites. 

Yves chuckled. “Yeah.” She’d been thinking a lot. More than she had before. 

“You’re right,” Jiwoo said. “About the light being needed somewhere else. It’s just,” she bit her lip, “I’m not sure if we’re prepared for this.”

“No one is,” Chaewon replied. “Not even the seers can tell.” 

Jiwoo’s eyes shot to her. “You think so?” 

“They’ve been looking at everyone more often, probably trying to find what they’ve overlooked.” Chaewon shrugged. “Definitely doesn’t help keeping us calm, but no one says anything.”

Out of habit, Yves looked around for eavesdroppers. One person had glanced over then. Choerry. She looked away the moment Yves met her gaze. It sent a pang of guilt through her chest. 

Yves looked away before anyone else saw her. She didn't want another glare sent her way.

Jiwoo’s own eyes were on the fire. The deeper shades of orange complimented her peach-coloured eyes. She looked distant again. “Shouldn’t we start telling everyone not to go after the other spirits?”

Other spirits didn’t mean the aggressive bright ones. It meant the dark spirits that didn’t attack. Very few actually stopped to differentiate between them. The moment you made the first blow, the once friendly spirit did end up attacking. 

Now especially, they had to be careful with their words. One always did if surrounded by ears like an elf’s. 

Yves shook her head. 

At the same time, Chaewon said, “they won’t listen.” 

The spirits didn't have the light. For that reason alone, the Astra were convinced that the spirits would be overcome with the darkness of the other malevolent spirits. Even the seers believed that, because they couldn’t see a brightness in the path that beings surrounded by darkness were going to take. It was that same logic that Yves had once believed.

Her shortsightedness had led her to making one of the worst mistakes in her life. 

Chapter Text

Olivia watched as the guards sat down around a fire. They were far too relaxed considering their employer was in danger tonight. 

It didn't mean she wouldn't be careful. She couldn't draw their attention to her. She wouldn't fight those men. Not this time. 

As she went along the edges of the road, darkness crept onto her skin, coating the edges of her arms. She felt it on her face. It caressed her skin, as if it knew what she intended to do. Was it encouraging? Or trying to pull her back? Either way, it made her stronger.

The moon was out as well. Olivia risked a glance at it. It was a half-moon. Waxing. The light that reached her stung. 

Anger rose up her throat. She shrank away. She hated being out when the moon was. It would also serve as a reminder that what happened today would be its fault. 

She climbed the wall, catching word of the conversation. They spoke of new rumours among the class above their employer. They spoke of being unsettled when they went home, that they felt watched. They spoke of beautiful men and women coming to the towns, drinking and laughing in their taverns. 

The last part unsettled her more. The Astra were still in this area—country. Shouldn’t they have left by now? Who was ruling against it? 

Olivia shook her head, dropping down from the wall, her feet almost soundless. Not one word from the guards had grown hesitant. They were wholly focused on their chatter. It was all that kept them engaged during such a long and uneventful night. 

When their negligence was revealed, would they be relived from duty? Would they be punished as the mortals did to criminals? Would they be executed? No, carelessness wasn’t usually awarded with death. There was the chance they’d be put into a cage.

The thought let her summon a blade of darkness with ease. She looked at the house. It was one of the long and wide ones of wood. Only one story. Unless she wanted a view, there would be no further climbing. 

There was light in the house, but little enough that Olivia could still sneak as she wanted to. 

The point was to draw attention, but she went to where she heard no footsteps, nor soft breathing. Digging her knife into the wood of the house was simple. It gave way easily, rotting as the blade sank further. She cut her entry into the house and pulled the half-rotted piece of wood away.

She thought of someone who’d be horrified of the sight. Several others joined that list. She tried not to think of their faces. She tried to push pale blue-green eyes out of her thoughts. She failed.

The darkness had spread further across her skin. Half of her face might've been covered. She wasn’t sure. She didn't know what she looked like, probably fresh from a nightmare. She pushed that from her mind as well. 

Olivia thought instead of the target. She thought of the crude drawing and the descriptions of his habits. He slept late, spending much of the night drinking in his study, either working or simply thinking. A part of her wondered how they knew that. 

She crept down the hall, feet making rustling noises across the floor. Was it made of straw? Or a different sort of cloth?

There were no guards in the house. It was too small for that and maybe thought to be unnecessary. She grimaced at how false the statement was. 

Olivia opened one door to reveal a bedroom. The one in the bed was a young girl. The next held a boy who couldn’t have been older than twenty, if even that, while another room held a woman, but the bed was larger. The space beside her was untouched. That meant the information that he slept late was correct. Either the woman paid someone for the information or she had known him better than she’d let on.

In the back of her mind, Olivia thought of the boy's age. If the previous woman hadn't been able to give him children, then this man had found another at least two decades earlier. Was Olivia avenging someone who'd died years ago? No wonder there had been so much anger in that woman. Olivia knew well enough that outrage and hatred festered. She knew how they ate away at a person, even more if they couldn't right those wrongs.

It took some time to find the study. Some of the staff seemed to live here. Some slept restlessly, but all slept. Once again, it was easy. 

Then, finally, Olivia found the study. She slid open the door, darkness still surrounding her. She saw him in deep thought, a half-full glass in his hands. The room smelled of smoke. It was something she’d seen a few times before in a land farther away. It seemed such men were more similar than she’d thought.

She stepped inside and closed the door. He glanced up and his eyes widened. 

Olivia summoned a black coil and wrapped it around his mouth. He let out a muffled yell and stood. 

She strode over, took the weak blows of his fists and yanked his arms behind his back.

She took hold of his shadow then and watched him stiffen. The feeling was unsettling, she knew that. How it would feel to those who had never truly known how important their shadow was, she didn’t know. 

“Scream and I’ll not hesitate.” Olivia let a long and thin knife appear in the air in front of him. Its point then inched towards the base of his neck. “Will you scream?” With purposefully louder steps, she went around to look him in the eye. 

It was a pathetic sight in front of her. His legs were immobile, he trembled, and his eyes were locked on the weapon in front of him. 

“Will you scream?” Olivia repeated. 

He shook his head. Once, twice, three times. 

She took away the darkness around his mouth. 

“What do you want?” he spluttered. It was loud, but not a scream. 

Already, she felt the darkness wrapping around her heart. It was a gentle embrace. It felt as if it was urging her to speak. 

“I was sent to kill you.” 

A sound very close to a whimper escaped him. He looked at her with new eyes now. More terrified than before. “Why?”

Should she give him justification? Ask if he had actually done what the woman had told her? She hadn’t stopped to wonder if she'd lied or not. 

“Someone wants you dead,” Olivia said. She could've told him the reasons, but that would open her to hearing his insistence that he was innocent. She would hate to hear him beg and she'd hate desperate excuses and lives even more. 

“Who?”

Shaking her head, she took hold of the blade, pulling it away from the position on his neck. She pressed the point to his heart.

She realised two things then. Pulling it away had been easy. Bringing it back had also taken little effort. Would sinking it in be even easier?

The grip of the darkness tightened over her heart. Its cold grip had spread to her hand. 

“Please,” he said. “Whatever you are, whoever sent you, please don’t do it.” 

Olivia waited for him to list his reasons. She waited for him to offer her more money. She waited for him to tell her that he had a family, a wife who would sleep alone in a bed for years, children who would go to bed without their father to say goodnight to. 

She didn’t hear any of it. She only saw his eyes looking at her with a silent plea. 

He didn’t need to say it. Olivia knew exactly how much his children would miss him. It didn’t matter that they’d known him only briefly, and wouldn’t remember much of their childhood. It didn’t matter that they wouldn’t live as long as she did. It only mattered that they’d live those lives without a father to guide and love them. 

Maybe he was responsible for the death of another. Maybe he was the reason for other deaths as well. Maybe his death was justified and the woman who’d hired her would have a peace of mind, knowing that her sister had been avenged. So many things may have been true. And all it took was for one action to be made. 

Olivia took the blade away. The darkness didn't disappear, but its grip on her softened. It helped her lower her arm. 

He looked at it, then at her. Dread was still in his eyes. He expected it to be a trick. 

Olivia absorbed the darkness, knowing it would seep into her fingers and coat them in black. It had the potential to leak into his nightmares as well. 

“Just because I’m not going to do it,” Olivia slowly released her hold on his shadow, “doesn’t mean you’re free of danger.” She turned away and left the room. Only then did she fully release his shadow. Amazingly, she didn’t hear him scream for his guards. 

Olivia found the place she’d cut into the house and slipped out of it. Hiding in the shadows, she left the grounds. 

This was a failure. She knew Alluin and the rest would see it as such. What would the cost be? Would they force her to fulfil a kill, while someone threatened her own life? She didn’t know and she wouldn’t go back to find that out. 

She was in a country whose language she knew. Where she went next depended on who else was here. If the Astra were still there, she’d go the other way. Even so, she longed to at least see the woods she’d grown up in. She’d longed to go home and while she didn’t want to see the people there, she wanted something familiar. 

Some of the silver she had with her lined the insides of her coat, while more lay on the bottom of her pack. It would let her buy what she needed to when she needed it. 

When it ran out, she’d find another way to get her money. She’d steal again, but could she do something else? A part of her wanted to still work with mortals. Honest work this time. Their demands of her would pale in comparison to what she’d already been asked to do. 

Olivia reached a crop of trees, a good way’s away from that house. The moment she crossed the threshold, she felt tears start to form. 

She was leaving again. She wasn’t leaving anyone she’d miss, but she was leaving without being forced out. 

She looked down at her hands to find them steady. At least there was that. 

Olivia closed her eyes, searching for any spirits that hunted her. She found nothing. She was alone. 

She didn’t have to leave. She could rescue the burning ties to her current life by turning around. She’d still have a place if she just did what she’d been asked to do. There would be a tent waiting for her. 

And money, Olivia thought. 

Getting money and a place to stay hadn’t been difficult before. She’d stolen to get those things. How different would killing be? 

Her mind brought thoughts of what else she’d done. Had she needed to do that? Had she needed to steal? 

Olivia shook her head. Questioning her own morality would get her nowhere. It was frayed, but not lost. She hadn't killed that man. She could cling to the remnants of her morality now. 

As she walked in the direction of home, she saw the moon peeking through the leaves above her. Anger didn’t wash over her at the sight of it. She just felt tired. 

Even so, as she walked on, something was different. The moonlight wasn’t burning her skin. 

______

Beside her, Chaewon stiffened. 

“What?” Chuu asked. She saw the air in front of the girl brighten. The light went away from her like a hand reaching out. Then it snapped back to the girl. 

Chaewon frowned. “I just,” she placed a hand to her chest, “something's changed?”

Chuu watched the light pull away from her again. It coated the black shards that left her chest. The remnants of the bond. 

Her frown deepened. “Did she do something else?” 

Sooyoung glanced at Chuu, her eyes questioning. Exactly the look Chuu didn’t want to see directed at her. She looked as if she knew Chuu was seeing more than she did.

"Is it painful?” Sooyoung asked. 

Chaewon shook her head. “I can’t describe it, but it feels,” she trailed off. “It feels better.” 

Chuu watched as the light seeped about a metre across the broken bond. It was still in pieces, but a part of it was silver. A part of it glowed. There was still darkness, but that didn't make Chuu feel unsettled. It only reminded her of the person on the other side of the bond. It only made her miss her more. 

Immediately, Chuu wanted to tell her. Chaewon didn’t look like she'd seen it. What if Chuu’s news would finally bring a smile to her face or hope to her eyes? 

She pushed the urge down. She couldn’t say it now. And if nothing came of it, what if she'd just succeeded in giving Chaewon false hope? Chuu wouldn’t be able to stomach the disappointment. Hers she could handle, but not Chaewon's. 

Still, this was something. Chuu looked at the forest floor. There was a clearer path. Chuu knew it led to a town, not the closest one, nor even the one across that, but it led to mortals and more. Hyejoo was there. 

“So did she do something?” Chaewon asked. “Or not do something?” Her fingers traced over her heart. The hope was already in her eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Chuu said. “But it has to be better than before if it doesn’t hurt.” 

Chaewon shook her head. She was focused on the space in front of her. She could see it now too. “Silver,” she murmured. Her eyes were wide. “Like her eyes." 

Sooyoung and Chuu exchanged glances. Neither of them knew what that meant. Hyejoo’s eyes had been mostly black, but sometimes they’d held light. Like their own crystal-like eyes. 

“The light I always saw in them,” Chaewon continued. “It wasn’t white, it was always silver.” 

Chapter Text

Fifty Years Ago 

“I’m scared, Chaewon.” Hyejoo sank down to her knees. The cold wracked her body. It was the worst in her chest. Each breath she took brought in more cold. 

Chaewon followed. “You’re still the same.” Just her being near helped to quell some of the cold. Hyejoo was afraid she'd take too much. 

She shook her head. “You don’t know what happens in my head. Nothing can be the same there.”

“So tell me.” 

An arm went around Hyejoo’s shoulders and she was pulled to someone’s chest. 

“Do you want to?” 

Hyejoo shook her head. “It’s dark.” She tried to pull away. “It’ll seep out to you.” As she spoke, she could feel the cold rise up her throat. 

Chaewon didn’t let her go. “We can share it.” 

"What if you can’t bear it?”

“And what if you can’t?” Chaewon asked. “If you’re overcome by the darkness, I won’t be able to follow. Before then, I can help.” 

Before then. Another reminder that it would happen. That this was the path the moon had chosen for her. A path with no light, one that seemed to go even further with each passing second. 

Hyejoo just shook her head. “One person to handle it is enough.” 

The arms around her tightened. “You’re sounding like a fairy again.” 

“Here their cruel ideals are correct,” Hyejoo tried to pull away again, “and this burden fell upon me, not you.” She put her hands on Chaewon's arms and carefully pushed them away. In that moment, the cold surged to her hands. Hyejoo forced it down, but it still came. She wrenched her hands away. If anything about Chaewon was corrupted, she'd never forgive herself. 

Chaewon caught her hand. Her touch burned. “No, I can’t let you hold onto it by yourself.” Her bright eyes shone. They pleaded with her to listen. 

The cold slipped from her grasp. It started to pull away from her and towards Chaewon.

“Let go," Hyejoo gasped. 

Then she lost it. Darkness clouded her vision, much of it coalescing around the girl in front of her. 

In the same moment, she heard Chaewon hiss, clutching her chest with the other hand. Hyejoo felt pain in her mind and heart then. Only faintly. 

She tore away her hand and ran off. 

She didn't know for how long she ran, but when the darkness encircled her heart fully, she stumbled, nearly toppling over. She looked at the hand that Chaewon had held.

Darkness streamed from her fingertips. In the back of her mind, she thought it looked beautiful. The rest of her was horrified. 

It couldn’t be happening. She'd lived her entire life without anything. Why was magic coming to her now? How could the moon give her darkness now? Why did the darkness feel so terrible?

Her hand hurt now. That pain spread, as though her blood was piercing all along her body. 

When it reached her eyes and mind, Hyejoo gasped. An ache spread over her head. Only then did she know why she felt pain. It hurt because something was leaving her. Was it her soul? The light? 

It didn’t stop growing. Her legs gave out. She screamed.

That only encouraged the pain. Black curled around her vision. Even the moon darkened. The stars had disappeared. The screaming didn't stop. 

Hyejoo woke to bound hands and feet. The bindings stung. 

She hissed, her throat irritated by the sound. 

Her entire body felt heavier, as though stone lined her skin. No, the heaviness went deeper. It reached into her blood, her muscles, even her bones. 

It didn’t sting. There was only an ache. 

She could still move, but her body protested each attempt to do so. A part of her wanted to let go, either to sleep or to sink into that ache. She wondered what would happen if she did. Would she fall away to darkness completely? She almost didn’t mind. She just wanted this feeling to go. 

It was so bright around her. She could barely open her eyes and when she did, she recoiled. The movement made her wrists and ankles sting. 

She let out a cry. 

The restraints had cut her skin. Who had placed them there? And why did it hurt?

Hyejoo forced herself to open her eyes. She kept them open, despite the sunlight making her head scream in protest. This had happened before. Whenever she’d had to get up during the day, either to go to town or some other patrol. The sun had always burned her more easily than the rest and it’d always blinded her. Was the darkness the reason for that? Had she always had it within her? 

Her eyes adjusted. She was surrounded by white. Moonlight. Behind it was grey and blue. It took several moments until she realised it was the sky. It was mid-day and the sun still cast the clouds in a bright light. Thick white lines crossed over one another, stretching around her completely. 

It was then that Hyejoo realised it was a cage. 

She craned her head to look at her feet. Her hands had been bound at her back. Around her ankles were a mix of white chains. The skin beneath them was black. It wasn’t burnt, but bloodied. Her blood was not red. It was black. 

This was the will of the moon? On her? It shouldn’t have been, but it was. Her suspicions had been confirmed.

Whoever had bound her also knew very well what had happened. They would’ve known the light hurt her. And they’d bound her hands and feet in it. 

A spike of fear filled her. Would the bars close on her? Would the cage become her tomb? Or would she be banished? She hardly knew which was worse. 

Hyejoo shifted, the restraints grazing across her skin. She hissed. The moonlight burned like hot metal. 

“Don’t move,” a voice said, pleading. 

Hyejoo lifted her eyes. She saw deep green between the bars. Not the eyes she wanted to see, but the sight still comforted her. 

“Here,” Haseul held out a piece of watermelon, “I took out the light from all of it.”

“Should you be feeding me?” Hyejoo asked. 

Haseul didn’t respond, only held the food closer to her mouth. 

It was humiliating, but she opened her mouth, eating out of her hand. Even so, it was wonderfully sweet and helped ease the painful dryness of her throat. 

“I don’t know what they’re going to decide,” Haseul said. “But from what I heard,” she trailed off. She gave her more watermelon. 

“I’m an abomination?” Hyejoo suggested between swallows. “Monster? Curse?” She felt like it. The darkness escaping her fingertips. It had looked so wrong. Had she still emitted darkness when they’d found her? 

“Don’t say that,” the other’s voice shook, “you’re not any of those things.” 

“You don’t feel what I do,” Hyejoo replied. “Being in here sickens me. I’m burned by what’s sacred.” She swallowed, trying to remove the growing lump in her throat. “Even the humans know to call that evil.” 

She’d never had light before. This was the reason why. The darkness was meant to come to her. Had the seers known that or had it been a quick turn of Hyejoo's fate to be left in darkness?

Haseul passed her a sliced piece of cooked meat. Now that she’d had the fruit, she could actually eat it. “I’ve known you too long to even think of believing that.” She gave her another. “The rest have to remember who you are.” 

Hyejoo thought of Chaewon’s words. 

You’re still the same.

She doubted that Chaewon still thought that. She remembered the brief moment of realisation. She remembered seeing the horror in bright green eyes. 

“Will there be a vote?” It would be unanimous either way: she no longer belonged. Would she die at their hand? Or be forced to spend the rest of her life apart from them? Which was better? 

Haseul’s eyes sparkled with hope. “There must be. They'll see then.” 

“This won't be like before,” Hyejoo said. “There’s no chance of the light coming to me. It's gone.” They'd had difficulty accepting non-Astra chosen by the moon. There was little chance of them allowing one rejected by it to stay. 

Haseul did not respond. She held out the last piece of meat. 

Hyejoo ate it. The sickness had subsided somewhat. Had the darkness taken the food she’d had in her stomach before, leaving her exhausted and hungry? Or—

“How long have I been here?” 

Haseul nodded. “Three days.” She looked at her lap. “You were between waking and sleeping. They tightened the restraints when that happened. You screamed.” Her eyes slipped to the bars. 

Three days. That explained how ruined her ankles and wrists were. It also explained the terrible hunger and thirst. 

“Did this contain it?” She nodded at the cage. 

Another nod. 

“Good,” Hyejoo said. “And no one’s been hurt?” She thought of Gowon. She’d been the closest when the darkness had taken hold. And it'd tried to attack her. 

Guilt bubbled up her throat. Maybe it wasn’t so terrible that she was bound. If she couldn’t control the darkness, how could they trust her not to hurt another?

“No,” Haseul said. “Most of it stayed within you or fell away.” 

“So we don’t have to worry about that.”

Haseul gave her a look. “I’m still worrying about you, I hope you are too.” 

“I’ll try.” Hyejoo almost smiled. “Thank you for the food,” she said. “But you should go. They’ll talk if you don’t leave soon.” And the older elf was almost always on shaky ground with the other elves. 

Haseul shook her head. “Let them.” 

“Don’t say that,” Hyejoo said. “You’re still here, I won't be. They’ll remember this.” 

“Let them,” she repeated. “I’m staying with you.” 

It made some of the cold subside, hearing Haseul talk like this, but it was still wrong. Hyejoo was now completely apart from the Astra. Haseul wasn’t. 

“Please, Seul,” she said. “The last thing I want is for you to be hurt by helping me. What if they’re right? What if I am dangerous?” 

“The only reason we can control light is because we’re taught," Haseul replied. "I'll help you control it."

“No,” Hyejoo shook her head, “just go. They’re already starting to look.” She saw their frowns. She could almost hear their judgement. “You'll be leader some day. You leave now and they’ll still respect you.” 

Haseul shook her head. Tears built up in her emerald eyes. She reached out through the bars and cupped Hyejoo’s cheek. Her skin was so much warmer than should have been normal, but it didn't burn. 

Hyejoo moved so she could face her fully. The cage didn’t let her straighten and it burned to get closer to it. The light seared even more into her limbs, but she got closer to the bars. Tears had started to fall. Haseul wiped them away. 

“You have to go,” Hyejoo said. “Please. You won't be able to convince enough, just keep out of it.” 

There were few who she respected more and Haseul always did what was right. She’d welcomed Jinsoul, Jungeun, and Yerim like they were one of them, even when no one else had. Once she became older, once she was accepted as having a prominent role, she could keep doing that. Hyejoo just wouldn't be there to see it. 

That was when she spotted someone coming over. 

“I brought water,” Yeojin showed the animal skin, “without light.” She smiled weakly, eyes full of worry. 

“Both of you have to go,” Hyejoo said. “They’ll reach a decision soon. None of you can be associated with this.”

Yeojin’s smile vanished. “Why not?” The confusion there was painful to see. 

Haseul looked pained. “Hyejoo,” she started. 

“Go,” she told her, "please."

“Why?” Yeojin looked between them. “What’s wrong with helping her?” 

The green-eyed girl’s eyes grew teary. “Later, Yeojin,” she said. She looked to Hyejoo. “We’ll protect you however we can. All of us will.”

Hyejoo wanted to tell them not to, but she knew neither would. “Alright,” she let her head go to the ground, “see you then.” Thankfully, there was no moonlight on the soil. 

Haseul gripped Yeojin’s shoulders. 

“The water?" Yeojin was saying, "she needs something to drink." Her eyes flicked between Hyejoo and Haseul. She shouldn’t have come. She shouldn’t have to see this. 

Her throat was dry, but the fruit had helped somewhat. She had her immortality to thank for that. 

The thought gave her pause. Her questions returned. What was going to happen now? Would they put an end to what should have been an eternity or would they force her to leave? 

Haseul murmured reassurances and other words to Yeojin that Hyejoo couldn't bring herself to hear. They walked off. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone looking at the cage. She knew who it was. 

The girl never came. A part of Hyejoo knew that if she came closer, that would be the wrong decision. The rest of her wanted to call out to her. She needed to see her again. She needed to know she was alright. 

Chaewon walked away before she could speak. 

______

Haseul shivered. Hyejoo's darkness had created a cold that spread through the entire camp. 

And yet Haseul could only think of how worn Hyejoo had looked. Her eyes had been darker than they’d ever been, swallowing all light rather than reflecting it as they’d used to. Her skin had been a dull white. Her hair had also become more like the night sky, but without the stars. All across her skin had been lines of black, taking the paths of the blood there. The change had come so quickly. 

And now Hyejoo was alone, held captive by her own people. 

It'd torn her apart to see her that way, bound and bloody.

They’d gathered them in the amphitheatre, but it’d been filled with dirt. They stood in a large circle, all on equal footing. Nothing was in the centre, except for the elders, including Freya, Nuala, Eline, and Yuol. 

Haseul looked around for the people who should’ve been as good as family for Hyejoo. 

Sooyoung, Jiwoo and Chaewon had huddled together. They were too far away, but she could still see that their expressions were grim. This was the first time she’d seen any of them since Hyejoo had been brought back in chains of moonlight, her flesh burning beneath it. 

Beside her, Yeojin trembled. Jungeun held one of her hands and Haseul the other. She could barely see Yerim, but she saw that one of her fists was clenched. Jungeun and Jinsoul both scowled at the elders. It wasn’t the ideal expression; they hadn’t been here long enough for their hostility to be overlooked. Even then, it was nothing compared to the person on Haseul’s other side. 

Heejin’s hands shook and her expression barely concealed her rage. She said nothing, but her eyes gave way to a multitude of curses. 

Haseul wanted to steady her hands, but she didn't know what would happen if she tried. She wished it would give the girl some comfort, but also remind her that she was showing too much of her anger.

Then someone else took one of Heejin’s hands. Haseul knew it was Hyunjin. The trembling slowed, but it was still there. 

Haseul took her other hand. Heejin’s skin was warm. There was the chance she'd lash out and use her moonlight to attack an elder. She’d get a very similar treatment to what Hyejoo would face. Not for everyone to see as it was now, nor with as much pain, but the prospect of banishment was great. It wouldn't matter if they'd selected her to be an elder one day.

Haseul squeezed her hand once, hoping it would pass on the comfort, as well as a warning. 

None of them spoke. If any of them said something, the keen ears of their neighbours would hear it. Each one who heard would remember. If there was a consequence or not, no one would know. It also depended on the outcome of today. 

Haseul wouldn’t let that be death.

Then Freya raised her arms and screams pierced the air. 

Haseul tensed, as did the girls around her. Yeojin looked up at her, horror in her eyes. Haseul was reminded of how young she was. She didn’t know what their people were capable of. Haseul hoped desperately she wouldn’t see them turn on one of their own. It might’ve been too late for that. 

The screams subsided to smaller cries as Hyejoo was lowered to the ground in front of Freya. Though the circle was large, Haseul could still see her well. Hyejoo’s face held streaks of black blood. Darkness curled off of her like smoke. There was a faint crackling noise. Was it the meeting of light and dark? 

“A darkness wielder,” Freya called. “Turned yesterday when she encountered the purity of another.” She held out one hand, beckoning. 

Chaewon stepped forward then. Her expression was unreadable. Was she in shock or something else?

She’d been the one to find her and turn her over to the elders? She couldn't have known the consequences or else she’d have told Hyejoo to run or hidden her. 

“Tell them what you told me.” Eline’s voice was warm. Haseul didn’t believe the kindness, not while Hyejoo still shook in her cage. She knew how dangerous those thoughts could be.

Hyejoo had fallen silent. She’d lifted her head to look at Chaewon. Did she look at her with hope or fear?

“The darkness had been building within her,” Chaewon said. “It ate away at her, but she didn't know what it was, only that it was wrong. She didn’t want anyone to get—“

“She was hiding it,” Lyriil, another elder, finished. “She knew how terrible it was and it led to this.” He waved a hand at the cage and the bars dissolved. 

Hyejoo looked so small on the grass, her arms and legs still bound. 

And then, the girl shifted so that she was on her knees and not lying down. Her hair looked like it was smoking. Even here, her eyes looked far too dark. They’d once glittered. Her shoulders were straight, not slumped. There was still some of her stoicism in place. Haseul felt a flicker of pride then. 

“And then what happened?” 

“The air turned cold,” Chaewon said. “I could feel it suck away the warmth.” 

“It?” Yuol said. “Don’t you mean that she did it?” 

“It was the darkness,” Chaewon replied. Her voice was steady. “And then that same darkness started to come out of her hands.” 

“Didn’t she hurt you?” Nuala asked. 

“It was the darkness,” Chaewon repeated. “It made my chest cold, then it stung.” The words were shaky. Scared. Did it still hurt?

“A breaking point reached,” Freya said. “She couldn’t control it.” She pointed. “She cannot do so either now. That is why we need the restraints.” 

“Thank you for telling us again,” Nuala murmured, but they could still hear her. 

The small blonde elf went back to Sooyoung and Jiwoo. The taller of the three put an arm around her. The people around her sent her sympathetic smiles. 

Haseul didn’t know what to think. Had Chaewon been put up to this? Her words didn’t outrightly condemn Hyejoo, but they didn’t paint her well either. Chaewon wasn’t an idiot. She had to know how her words were being twisted, but she hadn’t tried to stop a misunderstanding.

“We observed something frightening when we found her,” Freya said. “Dark spirits had approached her. They hadn’t attacked her, almost as if they'd wanted to help.” 

The reaction were murmurs. Most were horrified. 

Haseul was just confused. If malevolent spirits didn't attack Hyejoo, when they would go after a vampire, what was that supposed to suggest? Vampires were born from the night and far more capable of evil than her. None of that meant that Hyejoo was to be punished for her abilities. It just meant they knew less than they thought they did. 

“So we wanted to, and forgive the inquiry, see something. With you all.” Yuol took out a pouch. It was pale blue. Filled with moon dust treated with the juice of blueberries. He was going to call on a spirit. 

He proceeded to empty it over Hyejoo. The dark haired elf hissed, recoiling.

Then a force yanked her back and she fell back to the ground. She got her knees again. Even from where she stood, Haseul could see the tears. They were the only thing that shone on Hyejoo, save for her restraints. There was still so much blood across her skin. 

To those blinded by their beliefs or pride, she would look like a nightmare. To those who could see her properly, Hyejoo was only a girl. She was scared and in pain. 

Two spirits appeared, one having leapt over Jiwoo's head. They paid no mind to the other elves. They only charged forward, straight for Hyejoo. Both were bright spirits. 

Haseul let out a cry and stepped forward. It was Heejin’s turn to restrain her. Even Yeojin had tightened her grip on Haseul's hand. 

Moon dust did not do this. You didn’t make benevolent spirits feral if you added meat or flowers to the mix. It was impossible. 

And yet, a horrific scene unfolded in front of them. Haseul could only watch.

The first spirit, a bird, launched itself at Hyejoo’s head. She jerked away. Then the second, a lynx, reached her. It sunk its teeth into Hyejoo’s side. 

She shrieked and writhed away. Her feet kicked out, but the spirit didn't move away. 

“Stop!” Jinsoul shouted. “What do you prove with this?” She strode forward, but a wall of light stopped her. From one of the other elders.

Jungeun and Yerim scrambled to help her up. Jungeun’s red eyes filled with anger. The air warmed, but no flames appeared. 

No one else responded. No one moved to help. Haseul was frozen to the spot, watching harmless spirits attack Hyejoo. 

She needed to move. She couldn't. 

Hyejoo scrambled away as best she could. She whimpered. Neither spirit stopped its assault. There was more black blood. They watched it fall to the grass. They were causing her physical harm. That should’ve also been impossible. 

Then the world around them darkened. Haseul felt the air cool even further and the hairs rise up her neck. A sweet scent reached her nose, like that of a fruit. The feeling she got from it was wrong. It was a heaviness that settled over her chest. 

She watched as the lynx whined. It didn't let her go. The bird's claws sank into her arm. She screamed. 

The unthinkable happened then. The pale green lynx began to darken, turning a leaf-green colour. It began at its mouth, before spreading through its body like water soaking into soil. 

The lynx released Hyejoo and sat down on its haunches, looking at her. Its form was dark green. Its eyes were yellow. 

Several people started shouting. Some stepped forward, long swords and staffs of moonlight materialising. 

The same had happened to the bird. Instead of white, it was now dark grey, almost black. It had landed on the ground, also unmoving. Both looked at Hyejoo, now calm.

The elders looked at the spirits, having retreated to the edges of the circle. Freya’s golden eyes were wide. Eline’s weren’t. Of course, the seer would’ve expected this. 

The shouting grew louder. There were calls that Hyejoo was a monster. She was cursed. 

All while Hyejoo still lay on the ground, covered in blood. Haseul could hear her gasps of pain and the beginnings of sobs. 

“They’re not attacking,” Yeojin whispered. “They’re not dangerous.” 

And yet, no one else had realised that. 

The first strode forward: three men and two women. They sent swathes of moonlight at the lynx. It hissed and sprang away. Those in its path scattered and it disappeared into the trees. The bird had already gone. No one else had been hurt. 

Hyejoo still lay on the floor, her breaths shaky.

“Our suspicions were true,” Freya called over the commotion. “She can transform the light to dark. Perhaps not of her own volition, but the evidence is undeniable.” 

“She has no place here!” someone bellowed. One of their main hunters. Hyejoo had helped him several times over the years, learning much of what she had from him. She’d devoted even more time to it when it’d been clear that she couldn’t control the light. 

“She cannot stay.” Freya nodded. 

“It’s a danger to leave her alive," Lyriil said. Even from here, Haseul saw the contempt in his eyes. “She will reverse all the work we have done.” 

“There is no light left in her,” Eline added. “And I see no light on her path.” The words held finality, because who would doubt the word of a seer?

Haseul had heard enough. She let go of Yeojin’s hand and yanked hers away from Heejin’s. “Did you not all see what happened?” She walked into the circle. “The spirits didn’t attack any of us when they turned and when you attacked, they didn’t retaliate.” A spirit didn’t have a survival instinct. If it was malevolent, it only wanted to corrupt. Neither was true here. Neither spirit been a threat. Hyejoo wasn't one either. 

“And you have the answer for why?” Freya asked, a hard edge to her eyes. “It changed from pure to dark. Their previous forms hadn’t attacked any of us, only her. They'd deemed her a threat.” 

“A threat because she was made bait,” Haseul said. She looked to Yuol then, her old trainer. He’d also taught Hyejoo. 

He held her gaze, but didn't respond. 

“And what will stop her from enraging the spirits when near? What if she’s in a group and her very presence causes the pure to attack?” Lyriil stepped forward. “She’d be a danger to whoever is near her.”

“And we don't know how or why she does this to those spirits, do we?” Freya levelled a stern gaze at her. “Or do you have the answer to that as well? Can you say that those spirits are no danger to us?"

Haseul had no answer for that. They knew it. 

Someone grabbed her shoulder. Surprisingly, it wasn’t her father, but Heejin. Her eyes sent her the very same warning Haseul had tried to give her before. To speak more would be to antagonise herself.

Haseul didn't want to move. What if she could say the right thing? What if she could convince the rest not to condemn Hyejoo?

Then Heejin was pulling her back. Haseul moved with her. From where she was, she saw that Hyejoo trembled. She still emitted darkness and she was bleeding. 

As the two of them returned to the edges of the circle, Haseul met Yeojin’s eyes. She looked up at her, several tears having fallen now. Haseul wiped each of them away. She could hardly bear to see the horror in Yeojin’s eyes before. Now she saw anger mixed in with it. Yeojin would never forget this day. None of them would. 

When she turned back, she saw that Hyejoo was pushing herself back up to her knees. She was half hunched over, but upright. Perhaps the wounds inflicted didn’t go as deep as a normal animal’s could. With her black blood, she seemed to be more sunken into the darkness. She looked up, her expression unreadable. Her stubbornness had remained. 

“It’s very clear to me that we have a division in opinion,” Freya said. “So there are two options. Either we allow her to stay or not.” 

“Those in favour of staying?” Yuol asked. 

Haseul raised her hand high. As did Heejin, Hyunjin, Yeojin, Choerry, Jinsoul, and Jungeun. They were the only ones. 

Haseul whipped her head to where the others were. Jiwoo, Sooyoung, and Chaewon had kept their hands down. Their faces were turned towards the ground. 

Her chest constricted. Three votes wouldn’t have made a difference. The reaction of the rest had told her that much.

Except those votes could’ve shown Hyejoo that she wasn’t alone. Haseul had thought they were a given. Those she’d thought were less likely had raised their hands with little to no hesitation. Even those who hadn’t known Hyejoo for long enough to love her as they did. These three had been with Hyejoo her whole life.  

“And those who wish her gone?” 

Haseul watched the hands rise. She watched as the three who should have been Hyejoo's closest friends raised their hands as well. 

She didn’t feel rage then. That would come later. The sight only made her heart sink further. 

Haseul looked to the grey sky then, hoping to stop her tears from falling. Would the sky weep for Hyejoo or turn away from her as well?

“The there are two choices still,” Freya continued. “Exile or death.” 

“That’s an option?” Heejin’s voice resonated around the silent group. “We fight wars with those who’d want us enslaved or dead and we’d kill one of our own? All because we think she might do something later?” Her words were steady, but Haseul saw the outrage. 

“She will bring nothing good,” Lyriil said. "She will remain dangerous."

The voice of a man joined the voices. Heejin’s father. “She is young. The corruption has not reached her mind. She would not hurt us.” 

Others voiced their agreement, including Haseul’s family. While they would cast Hyejoo out, they, at the very least, wanted to keep her alive.

“Those who wish exile?” 

Haseul fought further tears, ones of frustration. Now it had become the better option to exile someone. To send her into a world she hardly knew, alone and abandoned. 

Haseul raised her hand. Most of those around her raised their hands. 

She looked to the three. They too had raised their hands. At least they would not see her dead. 

But weren’t they condemning her to it anyway? Hyejoo had only just been exposed to her magic. She didn’t know how to conjure a weapon. She didn’t know how to turn the spirits into forms that didn’t attack her. She didn’t know how to control her magic. 

“So it is exile,” Freya said. “It will happen when the moon is in the north.” 

Where it would shine the brightest tonight. As if they needed to prove to the moon they had carried out its will. 

That meant they were assuming the moon wanted a people to cast out a girl. Because instead of light, Hyejoo had gotten darkness. 

Haseul turned away. When she should have protected her, she’d been rooted to the spot. When she should have spoken up for her, Haseul had been unable to answer simple questions. When she’d tried to help, she’d failed. 

Hyejoo would be alone.

Chapter Text

Haseul moved with grace, eyes closed as her sword swept through the air. She called it a warm-up, but to Vivi it looked more like a dance. 

“Is it like this when you use stone?” Haseul asked. 

“In a fight, stone just chips off from the blade,” Vivi replied. “I usually used a club.” 

Her eyes opened. “To bash people’s heads in?” 

“To make them turn the other way,” Vivi replied. Usually, she added in her head. “People can handle swords, a stone club is another thing.” She ran a hand along the ground, tracing a word or two in one of the mortal languages. 

“But can you fight with it?” 

Just the question brought memories to mind. Those were memories Vivi didn't want in her mind. And though she might trust Haseul more than any other elf, she didn't trust her enough for that. 

So she brought up the rock from below the earth. “I have.” 

Haseul didn't smile. Her eyes filled with understanding. Vivi realised then that she also didn't know any of the elf's own stories. 

“You don’t want to duel with this.” Vivi looked at the stone club. “I never had a sparring partner unless I made it hollow.” She let some of it flow back into the earth. Even if Haseul turned out to be the best fighter she’d ever seen, she didn’t want to land a blow that would actually hurt. 

“Not here,” Haseul said. “Just don’t aim for the head.” She lurched forward, grabbing Vivi’s wrist in the next second. Vivi was hauled to her feet. The elf was surprisingly strong. 

Vivi caught herself, before she stumbled into her. “Bones may be broken.” 

“I’ve got light to heal up,” she winked, “but that’s assuming you’ll land a hit.” She waved her blade. “Come on.” 

There was something about Haseul's smile and the way her eyes glittered. There wasn't the gentle warmth like when Haseul taught Vivi about utilising moonlight. This was something else: a challenge. Haseul thought they’d be on equal footing. Maybe they would be, maybe not. Vivi realised she wanted to find out.  

She smiled back and swung first. Her club went for the upper part of Haseul’s legs. 

The elf jumped back and Vivi forced the stone up, forcing the ground beneath her to rise. 

Haseul laughed as she lost her balance. In the same moment, something hit Vivi in the gut, knocking her back as well. It was warm. She saw how a chunk of light fell to the floor.

Vivi got to her feet, but Haseul had righted herself faster. Haseul leapt over the uneven ground, sweeping her own weapon of light in a lazy arc.

Vivi ducked, while aiming another blow at Haseul’s legs. This one landed, starting to sweep her off her feet. 

And then an elbow drove into her back. The force of it drove her down. 

Vivi’s face hit the dirt. “You could barely lift a slab of stone.” And now she'd quite literally floored her. 

Haseul let her. “You were already close enough to falling on your face.” She waggled her brow. “And now you’re taking too long to recover.” 

Vivi snorted and swung, making the stone rise from the ground to extend onto the club. This time it caught Haseul in the side. 

She dropped the club and lunged. 

Haseul stumbled, but evaded her grasp. She landed a small jab on Vivi’s ribs, but it hurt.

Bony hands, she thought. 

Vivi tripped her, forcing her down as she did. Haseul’s centre of gravity wasn’t as strong. Still, she was quick. 

Then Vivi was shoved back, almost exactly onto her feet again. Suddenly being upright caught her off guard. 

She saw Haseul getting to her feet. Again. And she made the stone rise in front of her, forming a wall. 

There was the sound of impact and a curse. 

“I’m,” Haseul gasped, “not sure if that’s fair.” A groan of pain. 

When Vivi let the wall fall away, she saw Haseul clutching her face. Blood streamed out from her fingers. 

“All fine!” The bleeding elf raised her hand. Her skin started to glow. “Just have to right this.” She winced as she pressed on either side of her nose. “Look straight to you?”

“No,” Vivi reached up and nudged her fingers, “now.” 

Haseul’s skin glowed even brighter. As did her eyes, from which the tears still came out. 

“Sorry.” Vivi looked away from Haseul’s face to the blood on her hands. “You’re a lot faster than me otherwise.” Her neck was starting to feel warm. 

“Otherwise is the key word,” Haseul replied. “In a real fight, you can play as dirty as you want. Just like I am.” She grinned, but flinched. 

A pressure came over her neck. Vivi reached for it. It was a coil of moonlight. It felt different to what Vivi harnessed. It felt warmer than usual. More potent as well, though it was a quiet intensity. Like an ember rather than the raging fire. 

“Ah ha,” Vivi said. “Have you used that specific tactic before? Break your nose to break a neck?”

Haseul laughed, taking her hands away from a now straight nose. “Not yet.” She pulled out her water skin, pouring it over her head, before wiping away the blood. Any human lady would’ve found it unsightly. Vivi believed that others in the camp would think it undignified as well. “But someone’s pride is always a useful weapon.” Her eyes darkened ever so slightly. 

She could only nod. A part of her was reminded again of the things she didn't know.

Green eyes widened. “I didn’t mean you were prideful!” Haseul exclaimed. “I just knew you weren’t going to pay much attention to it, because of the nose.” She sighed, a small chuckle leaving her lips. “And I wanted the last say in this.” 

“So you were the more prideful one then,” Vivi replied. Pride wasn’t always terrible. Arrogance was a word she could hardly associate with Haseul. Confident was a perfect fit. 

She nodded. The moonlight around Vivi’s throat vanished. How did she have enough light? So many had complained they'd had too little, but Haseul was using clubs and making these other structures. Did she use it better than them?

“You made the stone hollow, didn’t you?” Haseul almost looked disappointed.

Vivi smiled. “A full-on blow can crush a person. You’d have had a lot more than a broken nose and cracked ribs.” 

“Right,” Haseul touched her side, gingerly, “did I even get a bruise on you?”

“A few,” she turned back towards the camp, “but I think you won today, regardless.”

“I’m the one who was beaten bloody,” she looked at her blood-speckled clothes, “are you sure you didn’t win?”

“You gave me room to get up after that hit to my back. If you’d have used anything other than your arm, that would've been the winning blow.”

Haseul shrugged. “So we’re even.” She smiled at her. “We went two rounds.”

Vivi didn't find it in her to protest. Haseul's insistence proved she was anything but arrogant. She found herself liking the elf more and more. 

"Next time will be different,” Vivi said. 

“I’m sure.” Her smile widened. “Because next time, I’ll be the one making that pretty nose of yours crooked.” 

______

“Just,” Priad sighed, “take it easy with her, alright?”

Hyunjin frowned. “You came all the way out here to say that?” And at the end of the guard shift too. She was hungry and on edge from the last spirit she’d fought. She really hated days without enough moonlight. She’d already drained her waterskin and was already starving for whatever pieces she could still get tonight. 

“Heejin’s been on edge for a while now,” he said. “You’re just making it worse if you force her to fight.”

She wanted to argue and say that the training was perfect to soften that edge. It might’ve been one of the reasons Heejin didn’t lash out every other day. 

But arguing with him, especially with the others around, it wouldn’t end well for her. They could talk circles around her. Heejin could also do that, but she never had with Hyunjin. Priad and the others didn’t have the tact to avoid that with her. They relished in making people like her struggle.

This was also the chance to stop seeing Heejin as much as she was. Just these few words with Priad was showing her he didn't like the time they were spending together. Others weren't either. 

“I’m not forcing her,” Hyunjin replied. “But if you think she’s overdoing it, then I can ‘take it easy’.” She stifled a yawn. The many patrols really were getting to her. Maybe she could shave off one tomorrow and use that time for herself.

Beside him, Teveril scowled. “Are we boring you?”

She smiled. “Yes.” Then she looked to the sky. “And it’s time for my dinner.” She nodded at them. 

They let her go just fine. She was pretty sure they didn’t hate her. She didn’t hate them. It was just that a lot had changed since that day. 

Just the thought stung. Hyunjin ignored the pain. Even if Heejin despised how the moon had dictated their actions and showed some their fates, the moonlight that tied two people together had the potential to be beautiful.

Once Heejin stopped rejecting it, maybe she’d start feeling the connection to Priad. As far as Hyunjin knew, the bond didn’t force love. It only highlighted the reasons why you were bound. It was like a very powerful suggestion. It didn’t force you. 

But she’s not realised that, Hyunjin thought. The day after they’d learned of the bond, Hyunjin had left for a few years. When she’d returned, Heejin’s eyes still hadn’t held any affection for Priad. 

Ultimately, her decision to leave hadn’t done anything. Hyunjin had learned how to fight from other elves, but also from sour encounters with wolves, witches, and vampires. Seunghee and Hyojung had agreed that she’d come to excel at that. She’d needed to return to train the rest. Yuol was an exceptional duelist, but he was just one person and few went as far out as Hyojung’s group did. They came back now and again, but had essentially formed their own faction. If she didn’t love being at home as much as she did, she would’ve actually joined them. 

Then a voice reached her ears, one that was deep and currently quite animated. 

“It could cut the amount by at least a quarter,” Heejin said. She spoke to her father, Erlan, and another. 

“The others'll grow restless,” Lisa frowned, “including me.” She was one of their primary hunters, having a knack for finding spirits. Her usual partner, Jennie, was the one handling the strategy. They made an excellent pair. They were also bound by the light. 

Heejin nodded. “I’d rather be stuck here than not be able to defend myself properly out there." 

“So would I.” Lisa turned to Erlan. “Yuol’ll agree with me and I’ll make sure he’s the bearer of bad news for the thrill seekers.”

Hyunjin tuned the rest out and kept walking. This was probably a new plan in place for patrols or hunts. Maybe something about only those with the most moonlight being able to get out. You'd also need the skill to match. 

Hyunjin went straight to their fire pit. Haseul and Viian were already there. She was happy to see that Vivi felt comfortable enough to eat with them. When Jungeun had first come, she’d eaten alone for the first year, only ever coming for the bigger celebrations or when they (usually Haseul) had urged her to join them. When Jinsoul had come, Jungeun had taken the time to eat separately from them again. That'd only been for a short time, because Jungeun and a few others hadn’t let Jinsoul have the same isolation she had. The rest of them had welcomed Jinsoul and later Yerim as well. Now they had Viian and it seemed that Haseul wasn’t going to let her eat alone at all. 

“How was it?” Haseul asked. She gestured to a very full platter of cooked food. If she got to the fire first, she always made enough for them all to have seconds. 

“Quiet night,” Hyunjin picked off some of the roasted vegetables and meat, “three spirits came around. One pair, one on its own.” 

She looked at her for a long moment, eyes probing. “You'll have patrols for a week. And no guard duty tomorrow. Maybe the day after too.”

Hyunjin laughed. “Is it bad that I was hoping you’d say that?”

Her brow rose. “Surprising.” She looked to Viian. “The last time I tried to get her to take a break, she did a few day-trips into town just to prove she didn’t need it.”

Viian’s light pink eyes flicked to Hyunjin. “But isn't there more risk in the day for you?”

“Just not understanding them. We got language lessons we got as children,” Haseul said. “And she never paid any real attention.”

“They always think I’m a foreigner,” Hyunjin grumbled. 

"You are?" The pink-haired girl looked puzzled. “And how did going there prove your point?”

“It didn’t,” Haseul grinned, “but she came back very proud.”

“I still am.” Hyunjin tossed a slice of aubergine at her. “Had to concentrate on everything they were saying. The human language is hard.” 

“And there’s more than one,” Viian replied. 

“I know,” she groaned. “And it just gets worse the farther west you go.” She’d stopped trying to understand the mortals after passing through Russian lands. Her appearance also became increasingly unique for the mortals the further away she went from home. She hated the stares. 

“Do you know any of their languages?” Haseul asked, a spark of interest flaring in her eyes. 

Viian nodded. “One of the western languages, a bit of Korean, but mostly the one in the region above this one.” 

Yeojin sat beside Hyunjin then. “The Ming Empire?”

The newcomer shook her head. “It’s the Qing Dynasty now. Has been for some years.”

“So you were coming from there?” Hyunjin asked. She’d assumed Viian’s clan had been in Korea. Maybe that was shortsighted of her. 

“Yes, but there were plans to go further north,” Viian said. “Maybe even across the ocean and further east.” 

There was something off with that. Viian’s eyes had fallen to the fire. She wasn’t exactly a stone wall when it came to hiding her emotions, something Hyunjin appreciated, but she also wasn’t one to bear her soul. That wasn't terrible, but it left questions, several of which were unlikely to be answered. 

Still, Hyunjin knew homesickness well. In Viian’s face, she saw that, but also something else. 

“Sorry,” Viian muttered. 

Haseul and Hyunjin shared a look.

“Don’t be," Hyunjin said. "None of us have had to leave our home like you did, but we know it’s hard.” 

Then Haseul's expression crumpled. She didn't hide it fast enough. Hyunjin saw it, Yeojin had too, and she was sure Viian had as well. She looked worried. Unlike Hyunjin and Yeojin, she wouldn't know what it meant. 

But when Haseul wiped her face of the pain, Viian's concern also vanished. Like a mirror. 

“And here’s where you tell me to bond with the three who weren’t born Astra?” Viian asked, raising a brow. 

The newcomer was changing the subject. Thankfully. 

“Yeah,” Hyunjin said. “But also because they’re gonna be your patrol group.” 

Another nod. “But they’re not together often,” Viian frowned, “Jinsoul’s more of a healer than the one to go on patrol. Jungeun goes off with Chuu or by herself. And the only time I’ve only ever seen Choerry with Jinsoul in the camp, or Jungeun when she’s off with Chuu.” 

“You saw all this in a week?” Yeojin asked. 

Had it only been a week? Time was always quick to blend together for Hyunjin. For all she knew, it could’ve been a week, two, or a month. The only time she’d felt the passage of time was when she’d left for those years. 

Viian nodded. “And I’ve yet to be on any of these patrols.” Then she shrugged. “But that’s also because I haven’t got a grip on the light.”

“Yet,” Haseul said. She was looking at Viian with surprising fondness. “Jungeun just got hurt, Hyunjin’s getting to the edge of what she should’ve been using, and I’ll be just as exhausted by the end of the next hunt. It’s risky even for the experienced.” 

Hyunjin felt eyes on her in that moment. She looked around, wondering if someone was eavesdropping. 

There were some who still sent frowns their way, probably in Viian’s direction, and others who seemed to try and listen whenever they could. That was more to see what Haseul was like and what she spoke about with others. 

She didn’t see anyone looking straight at her. 

The tension in Viian hadn’t faded. “Because of how the spirits have been changing,” she said. “They need more light to be changed too, don’t they?”

Hyunjin was torn between surprise and being impressed at how observant she was. She also liked how the girl didn’t sound spiteful at being left behind for patrols. Hyunjin had to agree with Jungeun on that. It really wasn’t safe. 

“And if you get hurt by one, the darkness sticks with you longer,” Haseul said then. “More like a wound you can’t magically heal. That just takes time.”

“What does it do exactly?” Viian asked. “The way everyone talks about it just tells me that the darkness is bad.” 

“It isn’t bad,” a new voice said. Her tone was sharp. 

Hyunjin watched as Heejin looked between her and Viian. Her jaw was tight.

Already, Hyunjin knew she'd say something like before. She was angry, her mind stuck in memories of before. 

“It’s the type of darkness,” Heejin said, not sitting down. “Like the types of light, even if the rest don’t talk about it.” 

Hyunjin tried not to look for eavesdroppers then. 

Viian didn’t seem to mind the harsh tone. “So the bright spirits who attack, they have the worser type of it?”

“And there’re also dark spirits who don’t attack,” Yeojin said. Her eyes were hesitant. Hyunjin knew she had about as much anger as Heejin did and she didn’t handle it well either. She also knew that Yeojin hadn’t said a kind word to Gowon, Chuu or Yves since that day. Neither had Heejin. 

“So the first thing you do is make sure you know the difference,” Heejin added, her eyes cold. “Some turn the spirits without caring if they’d have been better off dark.”

Hyunjin felt how eavesdropping elves stiffened. They were allowed to say things like this, but the beliefs those words alluded to weren’t exactly approved of. Hyunjin hadn’t said anything like it for a long time. Her family had stopped saying it long ago.

Except Heejin was supposed to think for herself. It was what'd make her a great leader. If only she kept her newfound distaste for the moon to herself, then the rest of what she'd say and do would be accepted.

“And that’s none of us here,” Haseul said slowly. There was a small warning in her eyes. “Did you come to eat? I can put more on the fire. The others should be coming soon as well, then we’ll have enough.”

“No.” Heejin’s response was curt. “I needed to talk to you.” When she met Hyunjin's eyes, her gaze was a bit more gentle. Why couldn’t she spare that for Viian?

“Is it anything you can say here?” Hyunjin asked. 

Hurt flashed across bright pink eyes. Hyunjin regretted asking. 

She got up instead. 

Heejin barely nodded and turned away, walking to one of the tents. The one Hyunjin shared with Jinsoul and the others. 

Hyunjin felt her face start to burn. Did they have to go here? After everyone else had heard Heejin’s outburst, their gazes would also be on them now. And although Heejin didn’t care for it, the rest did, including Hyunjin.

Still, Heejin walked with more certainty now and a familiar tension in her shoulders. Hyunjin could only follow. 

No one was in the tent. And almost every tent had wards so that simple conversations wouldn’t be overheard. Among other things. 

Heejin rounded on her in the next moment. “Why’s Priad saying you’re only doing half the training sessions?” 

That bastard, Hyunjin thought. Was she really going to give Heejin another reason to hate him? The last thing she was supposed to do was make things worse. 

And now that she was near her bed, her own exhaustion was becoming more pronounced. She wanted nothing more than to sleep for several days. Heejin was bound to be exhausted as well. Both a group of western elves and sea elves wanted an audience about recent events. Heejin would either be preparing for that or be swept up in discussions. Same for Haseul. 

No, Hyunjin had to do what she could to make sure that Heejin got enough rest. Especially at these times.

The less time they spent alone together, the better. 

“Well?” Heejin let out a long breath through her nose. Her anger had evaporated, leaving only frustration. 

“You’ve made a lot of progress already," Hyunjin said slowly. "We don’t have to see each other that often.” 

The hurt appeared again. It stayed there. “That’s the only time we see each other.” The disappointment in her eyes was familiar. Hyunjin had seen it the day she’d left. And before the next few smaller trips she’d made. 

“You could still eat with us.” Hyunjin fought the urge to cross her arms. “But that might not be wise if you spit at Viian every time she asks for the salt.”

“You know everyone’s going to keep acting like she doesn’t belong here. And even after she’s tapped into her source of light,” Heejin paused, “they’ll ignore it.” 

Hyunjin frowned. “And the way you treat her is any better?” She didn’t leave time for an excuse. “Did you hear her say her clan’s probably in Russia by now, maybe even across the eastern ocean? She’s just like the others were when they first came: homesick and lonely. And then you’re coming in, as if she’s done something wrong by asking questions.” 

Heejin didn’t get angry this time. She only sat down on Hyunjin’s bedroll. Her fingers fiddled with the furs. 

Hyunjin was reminded of better days. Days when they’d lay together there, chatting about the stars and other gossip. Heejin hadn’t been full of spite then. She’d been curious and open. 

“You have to stop letting your anger out around her," Hyunjin said, vaguely aware that her voice was getting sharper. "She’s the one person who shouldn’t receive it. She doesn't even know that Hyejoo exists!” She needed to calm herself. This wasn’t the right way to go about it. 

Even raising her voice with Heejin felt wrong. When Jungeun and the others had come, Heejin had been so welcoming and never judgmental. Why did this have to be different?

“So yes, the training’s cut in half for the next weeks,” Hyunjin continued. “There’re other things we have to focus on.” She needed to find some way to better their patrols. Shorter shifts or bigger groups. A change that wouldn’t get her as many dirty looks as the last suggestion had. She’d just wanted them to practice a swift takedown, involving aiming right for the vulnerable areas instead of every fight being a glorified duel.

And maybe she’d have to talk to Heejin about that, but she’d save it for another day. When she was using the patience Hyunjin knew she had. 

“Even tomorrow?” Heejin asked. Her voice sounded small. 

“Even tomorrow,” Hyunjin said. “And you know they notice whenever you’re here.” She stopped at the entrance of the tent. “Next time just say it when we’re at the fire. You never had a problem saying everything else when you shouldn’t have.”

______

Olivia didn’t run home. She took as much time as she could. Maybe that wasn’t the best of ideas, because she’d been attacked by plenty of benevolent and twisted bright spirits. She’d turned each one dark. 

It was dawn. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning. She should’ve passed by that human’s kitchens and stolen from the stock. A few missing strips of meat and loaves of bread wouldn’t have been missed. Wealthy mortals had food in abundance. They kept a log on all of it and taking it almost never went unnoticed for long. Luckily, she was quite sure that the man wouldn’t order his guards to follow. She hoped so at least. 

Taverns didn’t usually have the same attention to detail, but taking from them felt wrong. They made actual money from serving it to others. 

Olivia scoffed. Was there a right and wrong place to steal from? The mortals could grow their food fine, even if it was an animal, so why did which stockroom she took from matter? 

She walked on, considering where the next town was. Not too far. All animals fled from her and there was never enough fruit or plantlike to eat in the ‘wilderness’. She either stole food or bought it. Luckily, she had enough money to buy it for a few months. 

Briefly, Olivia longed to sleep on a proper bed. 

She shook her head, pushing down the thought. It’d been nearly a day since she’d set off to kill another. Nearly a day since she’d turned away from Alluin. And now she was longing for a warm meal and a bed. Either the luxury she’d experienced with Alluin’s group had softened her or she’d grown delirious. 

The sky was beginning to pale. It was a sign for most mortals to wake. And it was the time when Olivia should’ve been going to sleep. 

Often she’d wondered if that was the right way to go about it. Those who were chosen by the moon later in life had all needed to suffer those changes to their sleep cycle. Yerim had stayed awake until late morning in the beginning, while Jinsoul and Jungeun had taken to the change a bit better. 

In spite of herself, Olivia continued to think of home. Was Jungeun still so punctual to wake and sleep? Did Yerim still refuse to miss out on experiencing a sunrise? Were Jungeun and Jinsoul still ignoring how one of them always waited for the other to come back from any outing? 

Homesickness struck her like a slap. She didn’t want a wooden bed and its mattress. She wanted to sleep on furs gathered from previous hunts. She wanted to enjoy meals made by those she’d once loved and sit by a fire Jungeun had conjured. She wanted to drink water infused with moonlight. She wanted to laugh and she wanted to enjoy food she hadn’t needed to buy or steal. 

There was a time when she might’ve had that with Alluin's group. They'd always talked of having a grand building to house them all. Alluin's main influences were the large stone constructs of the west. Olivia hated them. They were scrambled paths of rock interspersed with wooden doors. Unless a fire burned, they were always freezing in the winter. 

But they showed power. Their size created awe in mortals. They showed that you were powerful and rich. To the mortals, they proved you were someone to respect. Even if it was far from the truth. 

And it held what the humans called staff: mortals to work for other mortals. They’d clean, cook, and serve, all to gather enough money to have food of their own. Some did that their entire lives, while others were thrust to fight in battles they didn’t understand. There were other fates, other lives Olivia had caught glimpses of, but didn’t understand. 

Olivia laughed. It sounded like a strained breath with her underused voice, but the twisted humour there remained. Her own life had come to circulate around money and food. How had she gotten her money? She'd taken it or served another to take something else. Yesterday, she’d nearly taken a life to get a bag of silver. 

The mortals called that a crime. Others called it a sin. Some called it justice. 

Olivia had the sense that she’d left that man to die anyway. If the woman who’d sent her grew outraged that he still lived, what was to stop her from finding another? There was nothing to stop Alluin from sending another to do the work Olivia had failed to do. 

Perhaps she should’ve gone through with it, if only to spare him from the agony of a death by another’s hand. 

Pushing those thoughts away, she kept walking, tugging her cloak and the shadows closer to her. The light of the sun burned her. It always hurt. It also drained her. 

Olivia made it to the town some time before evening came and all venders returned home to their families. 

“Just passing through?” a young man asked. The corners of his lips tugged up. He eyed her in the way that told her he liked what he saw. Had he known what she was, let alone her age, he would’ve thought very differently. At least, she hoped so. 

Olivia nodded. One of her hands was wrapped around her animal skin filled with handmade noddles, stray vegetables, things the humans called spices, and beef. Though her silver hadn’t been from this region, it’d been accepted just the same. Almost with more reverence than their own money. 

She stowed away one loaf of bread and kept the other. She turned away from the boy and left the bakery. Her eye caught on someone squinting at the wooden hut. The woman's eyes landed on Olivia. She was old. There was a flicker of recognition in her gaze. 

Olivia cursed and turned away. Her pace quickened with each step. She heard the woman call out, but ignored it. Of all the places to be recognised. She hadn't spotted one feature familiar about the human, but that didn't seem to be the case for Olivia. 

Of course she’d recognised her. Olivia wasn’t the one who'd aged several decades. Hopefully the mortal would just dismiss it as an uncanny resemblance. It just meant that Olivia would have to wait a few years before returning here. That was hardly a problem in the scope of forever. 

As she returned to the forest, the late afternoon sun peaked through. It burned more than it should have, but her skin never tanned nor burned. At first, she’d wondered why that was. Yerim had come to them quite tan, but paled as her time in the night grew longer. Was her magic subconsciously destroying the light when it touched her skin? 

Above, Olivia spotted birds flying away from her. She still heard the calls of others. That side of the forest always made for a peaceful atmosphere. Coupled with the wind, Olivia could focus on that myriad of sound, rather than get stuck in her thoughts. 

She tore off chunks from her bread loaf. It was lightly sweet, just shy of being a dessert. To her empty stomach, it was wonderful. 

She wanted to find a safe place to stay, something always encased in shadow. 

Her search took her closer to home than she’d been in years. Olivia could feel their light in the distance. It was far away, but still felt too close. She was tempted to turn around and leave the country completely, but she was tired and Alluin was unlikely to come any closer than she had. He was more powerful, yes, but that also meant he'd be more easily discovered. Maybe a seer would see him coming sooner than they could Olivia. Unless he sent someone else after her. 

She walked along a river. There were areas with more stone here, mostly rocky banks or boulders. She remembered those from hunting. 

Then she heard soft footfalls. They weren’t from a small animal. These were predatory. 

Olivia summoned a blade and wrapped herself in shadow. She crept towards the nearest boulder. She couldn’t see them with normal eyes, so she looked into the darkness. Whatever followed her drew on the shadows only slightly. 

It was a large figure. Their darkness was familiar. 

Olivia absorbed her weapon and walked towards it. 

The spirit was dark green. It'd taken the shape of a wolf. 

And she'd turned it in the west, quite far away. 

“How'd you get here?” Olivia muttered. 

The spirit looked at her. It neared. If she wasn’t imagining it, its tail was wagging. 

There might’ve been an explanation for it. This might’ve been proof that spirits had more of a mind than they gave them credit for. 

She froze when she saw its eyes. She'd pushed the memory from her mind, but they were that same bright, yet pale green. Exactly the shade of another elf’s eyes. The sight filled Olivia with longing. Then rage. 

Olivia summoned a crude chunk of darkness and threw it at the wolf. It caught it and ate it. 

She growled and turned away. Wasting time with this wouldn’t help her find shelter. 

The spirit followed. 

Was this supposed to be a taunt form the moon? Olivia was closer to home than she’d ever been, but she wasn’t going back. Had the moon sent her a twisted reminder of who had turned away from her?

She saw a collection of stone then, rising up a few metres. There was a portion of it that went in. Not far, from what she could tell. Perhaps it would work. 

She glanced back. The spirit watched with its uncanny eyes. At least they didn’t glitter like hers did. 

Olivia began to climb. She didn’t make footholds, but pushed herself to make do without them. She'd lived a long time without magic like that. It was good never to lose the touch that she'd had without it. Even so, unlike those who controlled light, she almost always had a wealth of darkness at her disposal. Everyone had a shadow. 

She reached the top. The wolf was already there. It looked smug. 

Olivia remembered games when she’d seen similar eyes filled with a gentle challenge. She'd seen that same soft pride when the other girl had won. 

She dug her fingers into the rock, tore out a piece of it, and flung it at the beast. It dodged. 

“Leave,” she barked, hoisting herself up fully. 

The wolf remained. 

It wasn’t a proper cave, but the stone curved in to make the semblance of a mouth. 

Olivia gathered the shadows in her hands, creating a short and curved blade. She dug it into the rock. It gave way easily. 

It was very crude work. Jagged edges were left in walls that should’ve been smooth. Bit by bit, however, she got the space to grow. She could at least lie down with some shelter from a midday sun, rain, or full moon. 

The wolf watched her the the entire time, having now sat on its haunches. It eyed the chunks of rocks that scattered the floor. 

“Go on.” Olivia took one up and threw it, aiming for its head. 

The wolf caught it. The rock fell to the ground. The pale green eyes regarded her expectantly. 

She felt an old anger rise. “Don’t you understand? Go.” She stood, feeling dizzy as she did. She faked a swipe at it with her fist. It didn’t flinch. 

She groaned. Then she kicked it, not hard enough to break anything (if it even had bones), but to push it away. The wolf slid, but its claws dug into the stone. It made deep grooves. It whined. The sound tugged at her chest. 

“You’re mindless anyway,” Olivia spat. “What was I expecting?”

Then it was back to carving at the rock. Olivia tried to let it distract her.

It’s just a spirit, she told herself. It wasn’t there to harm her. It also wasn’t there to help. It was just taking up space on this already cramped plateau. 

Eventually, the piles of rock built up to the point that she was practically swimming in them. Her hands ached from carving and her arms shook from being held aloft for too long. 

Olivia loved it. When she walked, her mind wandered too much. Here, she could focus on the work completely, even have a bit of fun with what shapes she dug out. 

And now she had to clear up the space. She started tossing the rocks off the plateau. 

Then the unexpected happened. The wolf picked up one of the stone chunks with its mouth. It dropped it off the edge. It didn’t seem to hurt its teeth. 

“So you can do something useful,” Olivia muttered. “Good.” 

In another world, she would’ve been interested in that. This said something about the behaviour of spirits. Olivia dismissed it now. As long as the spirit wasn’t a nuisance, she didn’t need to care. Fairies were better at reaching those conclusions anyway. 

Together, Olivia and the wolf cleared away the plateau. 

Within the hour, the space was a little bit more like a cave. She could curl up and still have some room if she moved around in her sleep. She wouldn’t be able to sit up and she’d definitely whack her head when she woke up, but being able to lie down in the first place was a luxury. 

Olivia smiled. After a few days of carving and cleaning, it’d be a proper place to stay. It was as close to a castle as she’d ever get too. She'd even managed it before Alluin had even gotten close to it. 

She smoothed away the bottom parts of the wall. That was a task achieved with a mixture of shadow work and using something like what the mortal craftsmen did with their stone constructs. It wasn’t perfect, but good enough so that she didn’t cut herself while she slept. She healed from that, but that didn't mean those things didn't hurt. When she was an idiot, she even got infections.

The wolf lay down a the entrance. It almost looked like it was guarding her. 

“No noise from you,” Olivia dug around in her pack, “or I’ll find a way to get rid of you.” She pulled out the bread she’d already eaten from. She was too tired to cook. After eating something to quell the gnawing feeling in her stomach, she put the last part back. 

She arranged her things to make some sort of pillow. She had one thin blanket. The night wasn’t freezing. The darkness that surrounded her always made sure of that, but it was nearing day again. She was so exhausted that the time wouldn't matter. She'd sleep even if there was light. 

There was a low whine. It was filled with pain. Again, there was a tug at her, as if her own heart told her she was being cruel. 

The next thing Olivia felt was something nudging her leg. The wolf. 

She swallowed the urge to kick it again and opened her eyes. 

“What?” 

The wolf looked back at her with almost reproachful eyes. Another expression she’d seen before.

Her chest tightened. She fought the urge to kick it again. 

The spirit looked at the slowly brightening world outside. There was something close to disgust in its gaze. 

“The light?” Olivia asked. 

Of course, it didn’t answer. It just nudged her again. Its snout was strangely warm. 

“Fine.” She sat up and made the shadows extend toward the cave’s mouth. It made the floor more darkness than natural stone. 

The wolf slipped past her, pressing its body to the wall. It closed its eyes and seemed to actually relax. 

Olivia felt more annoyed than angry. She was too tired for that. “If you wake me up,” she muttered, laying down, careful not to touch the spirit. She didn’t finish the threat. 

Once again, there was no response. 

The spirit was both cool and warm. Olivia didn’t feel unsettled. Her annoyance lingered, but she almost felt comfortable. 

Vaguely, she found the current state of things funny. She was already drifting off, but she nearly laughed. 

That amusement comforted her, before sleep took her in completely. What greeted her were dreams of glittering green eyes and airy laughter. 

When Olivia woke, her eyes were swollen and her head hurt. Her chest was being pressed in on by a deep ache. It wasn’t from longing or even anger, but it still hurt. She hated it. 

Chapter Text

100 years ago

Heejin smiled as Hyunjin pulled her close. She met her in the middle, pressing their lips lightly together. Like every other time, she felt a flutter of warmth in her chest. It made the moment feel right to her, as if all that had come before had made way for this. A seer would probably tell her otherwise, but that didn’t matter. 

“We should be concentrating.” 

Hyunjin hummed and took her hand. “So focus. What’re the main values of the fae?” 

She was having trouble looking into sparkling yellow eyes and thinking at the same time. They were getting prettier each day. 

“Knowledge and curiosity.”

“And?” Hyunjin held her gaze. “One more, very important. Makes or breaks their judgement.”

Heejin raised a brow at her. “Since when did you know these things better than me?”

She giggled, the sound making Heejin’s heart swell. “Don’t forget, I also have to know who we’re up against.”

“We also work with them,” Heejin corrected. 

“That too,” Hyunjin shrugged, “so what’s the third? It might be their best quality.” 

It came to mind then. It was also something she saw in the girl beside her. “Selflessness.”

The smile she got in return was near blinding. “Now where did that show itself most?”

“When they resolved the battle in the south,” Heejin managed to say. She could barely overcome the newfound nervousness she felt around Hyunjin. It’d come up in the last years, once they’d technically reached the end of their physical ageing. Hyunjin’s once adorable eyes and sharp teeth were suddenly balanced out by a more pronounced jaw and fuller lips.Heejin had been elbowed a few times by Yeojin or Haseul who'd started waggling their eyebrows at her. 

More than once, Hyunjin had caught her staring. 

Hyunjin asked her about the past conflicts they had with both elves and fae, but then twisted it. She always did that, asking about different outcomes, usually if the Astra would've won a fight against the mental fae at a specific time, or lost the one against the eastern sea elves. All repeats of questions Heejin had heard from the elders, but given a spin. Instead of purely asking the best outcome for the Astra, Hyunjin asked her about what the other clans’ relations would be to each other and them. She asked about what the ideal state would be for their clans in the different scenarios.

And each time a new spin came, Heejin was reminded at how Hyunjin could’ve been in the same position as she was. She was a better fit for it. Her instinct was to consider the other side, not just think about which clans the Astra were giving moonlight to. 

Heejin tried to quell it, but with each question, her anger at how the elders treated Hyunjin and her family rose. The latter had stopped reassuring her that it was fine. Hyunjin assumed that Heejin had accepted it like she had.

“Do you really think I’m right for this?”

Hyunjin looked taken aback at the question. “This, as in guarding? Or leading?”

Heejin squinted at her. “You know which.”

She cracked a smile. “Guarding has always been below you, leading is perfect.” Her gaze softened. “Why ask?” 

“You can go over these things again and again, never getting annoyed. I’m just listening, because,” she trailed off. Because you're the one talking. Heat shot up to her neck. 

Hyunjin didn’t note the slip-up. “Because you have to do it and I like learning through you.” She winked. "One of us wins."

Heejin snickered. “So leadership is best for me because I don’t like it?” 

Her lips parted, eyes glinting playfully. Then she paused, the playfulness fading. “You don’t want to lead?” A gruffness had entered her voice. It always did when Hyunjin realised she needed to be serious.

“It’s not that,” Heejin sighed, “but you know how great Haseul is at it.“ And that had happened even with the older girl’s tendency to challenge even Freya and Eline. To everyone's surprise, they often listened. Heejin was sure she couldn’t manage to do the same. She grew shy around most elders and her temper flared with most of the people her age. That very anger was a terrible thing to have. It brought the shadows into your light, just as hate did. 

Hyunjin smiled. “Heekie, you’ve got the respect of everyone the moment you start to lead. Every lesson you give the children, they hang on to your every word. Even Hyejoo and Yeojin listen to you.” 

“They like me,” Heejin muttered.

“True, but they also like Sooyoung and me, but do they listen to us when it comes to sitting out hunts or patrol on a new moon?” Her smile grew. “You have a fair amount of influence here.” 

“And you?”

Hyunjin didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she held Heejin’s gaze, as if weighing her options. Somehow, it made her even more nervous. It almost made her guilty thinking about how much more Hyunjin's answer would matter to her.

After a far too long pause, she said, “I’d follow a few orders.” 

Heejin whacked her arm. “Thanks for the confidence boost.” Even as a jest, it carried weight for her. She felt lighter too, her doubt still there, but less. 

“You’ll make an incredible elder,” Hyunjin pressed a light kiss to her forehead, “it’s why you have to know all of this. They know you’re fit for it once you have. And so do I, if that counts for anything.”

“It counts.” Heejin smiled. 

Then she heard the sound of footsteps. Hyunjin reacted before she did, a long white blade appearing in her hands. It was barely noticeable, but Heejin still did: Hyunjin moved in front of her. She still held one of her hands in hers. 

There was a glow in the woods. Moments later, Haseul appeared between the branches, her breath laboured. 

“Heejin, they want you back.” Her green eyes flicked between the two of them. Heejin saw hesitance there. “There’s an announcement.”

Hyunjin’s blade disappeared and she straightened from her half-crouch. She looked completely relaxed now. Then she let go of Heejin’s hand. 

“So let’s go.” Hyunjin gave her a small smile. 

Heejin wanted nothing more than to stay, but she still followed when Haseul took off again through the woods, Hyunjin close behind. To match the both of them, Heejin had to run harder. Both had built up their strength more than she had. Most of Heejin's 'free' time was spent learning sigils, the few nuances of moonlight they did bother to know about, and every other piece of information she had to know about other elves and fairies. 

Haseul didn’t stop to explain, but Heejin had seen enough to be concerned. It was something about her expression when she'd come and the look in her eyes now. 

They were gathered around the amphitheatre; the one Yerim had been tasked to make in the years after she'd arrived. Before, they’d gathered around the central fire-pit, but that always made it difficult for everyone to understand what was being said. 

Yerim had carved out a large area for all to be seated, modelled after the ones she’d seen in the west. Heejin was pretty sure it'd also been a place where they’d believed in and even named a goddess of the moon. While the moon wasn’t a god, Heejin liked that the mortals had also recognised the power of the moon. 

What she didn’t like was that they had to go down there now, where everyone could see them. 

She hated even more that Freya was beckoning her over to the centre. She glanced back to see that Hyunjin had stopped at the very edge. She nodded at her, yellow eyes reassuring. 

Heejin kept going down the steps. Her father was there. He smiled as she came down the steps. It was a reassuring smile.

With all the eyes on her, she could hardly appreciate that. She was well aware of just how many people there were in their community. In comparison to others, they were small, but it didn’t feel like that now. 

Heejin’s stomach was severely knotted by the time she reached the bottom. 

“All will be alright,” her father said. He spoke the mortal tongue of a large island to the east. Did they call it Japan? Few among the Astra understood it. 

Before Heejin could even try to figure out what that meant, Freya began to speak. 

“Today is a most joyous day,” she said, voice reaching far, all the way to the edges of the space. Where Hyunjin sat. 

Heejin tried to find her, but only saw her in the distance. She was sitting up straight. If Heejin was seeing right, Hyejoo was beside her. The black hair was unmistakeable when there was light. Her hair usually didn't reflect it. It was also something Hyejoo couldn’t change, not like how Jungeun, Jinsoul or Chaewon could darken their hair with illusions. No one knew why and Heejin knew how much Hyejoo hated it. 

Freya kept talking. Heejin forced herself to look away from her friends and towards the elder. 

“We’ve known about this for some time," Freya continued, "but it was something to save until both were old enough to understand it.”

Heejin had to stamp out her irritation. She’d been called here to be stared at by all of the Astra. She didn't need to have her youth and ignorance thrown in her face. Freya always did this, so much so that it was normal by now, but that didn’t mean Heejin accepted it. 

And then she understood. She realised what she was here for and why her father was there. 

She whipped her head up to look at him, only to see that his eyes were on the moon. They were almost questioning. 

“And normally such a bond would’ve shown itself, but Eline and the other seers agreed it was best to announce it properly,” Freya said. “So it can be allowed to properly flourish.” She waved a hand. 

Three people stood then. Priad and his parents. He was a bit younger than her, but already much taller. They’d been friends in the way that she was friends with Teveril or Kolina: she ate with them once a month. At most. 

Heejin felt the urge to close her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to escape this moment. 

Not this. Not him, she thought. The face of another filled her mind. Someone who sat too far away from her now, watching as this unfolded. 

She almost expected a response, but the moon wasn’t sentient. No, it just gave her someone she barely cared about. And that someone had been tied to her for a while, but she’d never felt the connection. Didn’t that prove the bond wasn't strong enough?

Priad smiled at her, a degree of nervousness and boyish charm there. She forced the muscles of her cheeks to rise in response. A smile of that kind was something she was learning to master. 

He believed it. 

The ordeal lasted at least ten more minutes. Freya spoke about the bond and how valuable it was, how important it could be to their lives, all while Heejin and Priad were forced to stand there. Heejin pretended to listen. 

Heejin found Hyunjin again. She could barely tell if the girl looked back at her or not. She almost wished she could read emotions as some fairies could. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she knew she’d hate what she saw even more than not knowing it. 

Finally, she was allowed to sit, but she had to sit with him. 

Her father sat on her other side. The reassuring gaze from earlier made more sense. He knew she’d hate this and of course she would have. It was wrong. It had to be. She hadn’t felt anything for him, not even a fleeting crush when they were younger. She'd never wanted to be by his side. 

Even now, after the moment of discovering the bond, she only felt a hint of it. She saw the faint flickers of light between them, but it was supposed to be a glittering path or ribbon tying you to the other person. It was supposed to make you feel at ease to see it intact. 

Heejin fiddled with a new tear in the cloth at her knee. She began to make a hole out of it when her father took her hand. He squeezed it gently. It was also a gentle warning: don't show your feelings. 

The elders were taking this time to talk about how tomorrow they’d start with siphoning out moonlight to make a stockpile. This one would be split between the northern elves and a splinter group of the fae. The fairies would then provide some protection against other fairies who could dream-walk. If a cruel fairy stumbled upon your mind in the dream-world, any dream could turn into nightmares. Usually, their minds had some sort of protection through the moonlight, but when someone's magic was too weak or there wasn’t enough light coming from the moon, they were at risk of it. 

Heejin weighed the risks and benefits of dealing with those groups. She considered who'd they'd help next. She thought of anything, but what today meant. 

And then, finally, it was over. 

Heejin got to her feet, evading any conversation that would come. She could put on a false expression, but the matching words wouldn’t come today. 

She needed to find her. 

As she went up the stairs, nearly pushing past the rest, she got congratulations from elves she hardly knew. She passed Jiwoo, only to see an apologetic gaze there. 

It made her feel worse. She'd had nothin to do with it. All of her friends knew what this meant, while the rest could only guess. She hadn’t kept her feelings a secret, but she hadn’t been obvious about it either. Hyunjin had been very conscious of Heejin’s standing among the Astra. She'd reminded Heejin of that many times. 

Her eyes were burning when she reached the top. She broke away from the group, going to the part of the camp that was theirs. 

She didn’t see Hyunjin anywhere. She couldn’t even find her light. That didn’t mean much. Heejin could hardly think properly, let alone focus long enough to find her. 

She hurried over to their tents—maybe Hyunjin was cooking. She did that when she was annoyed or disappointed.

The others were gathering for food already. No sign of Hyunjin. 

She barely reached Hyejoo when the first tear fell. Whether it was frustration or sadness, she didn’t know. 

Chaewon was also there, her gaze thoughtful. It immediately turned sympathetic when she saw Heejin. As always, the pale-haired girl stood close to Hyejoo’s side. Their hands were usually inches away from touching unless they were already connected. 

“Where is she?” Heejin’s voice sounded thick. 

Hyejoo nodded east. A lake was in that direction. 

Heejin made to go, but a hand took hers. She looked, ready to rip her hand away. 

Sooyoung looked down at her with sad eyes. “She’ll need time to think it through. It'll also be better if you’re not seen leaving immediately.” 

“What they see won’t matter,” Heejin pulled her arm away, “they had to have this whole thing to prove it existed. They already know it’s weak.” She knew she spoke too loudly. She knew her words could be an offence to the moon and anyone who was bonded to someone and loved them. If Priad heard it, he'd be disappointed as well. "I’m going.” 

Before she left, she grabbed å bit of food, the ones they didn’t need to cook. Hopefully it had the freshly baked bread that Jungeun had brought in during. the afternoon. Hyunjin adored it for breakfast when the moon had just risen into the sky. There was one house in town that made them every four days. It was a family recipe too, one Hyunjin had enjoyed the development of it greatly. 

So she took off, hoping desperately that Hyunjin was being careful. Whatever she was feeling now, spirits would be drawn to the negative emotions. If she was deeper in her thoughts, she could get hurt. If she got hurt, it would be because of Heejin. 

She felt the eyes on her as she walked. She held in the rest of her tears as she hurried past. This was one of the rare moments where she hoped they'd have  ignored Hyunjin as she'd walked this way. Heejin hated herself for thinking that, even just for a moment. 

She found the source of light in the distance. Hyunjin had run from the camp. She’d stopped now. 

So Heejin began to jog, carefully avoiding the roots that sprung up here and there. 

She was tired. Not only had the guard duty drained her, but the end of the day had landed a final blow. There might’ve still been one left. She hoped she could block it or stop it from falling in the first place. 

Hyunjin sat at the edge of the lake, her head bowed and shoulders slowly rising and falling. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Hyunjin murmured. Her voice was thick. She’d been crying. 

The amount of times Hyunjin had cried was below ten. There’d been the beginning when she’d realised that her position among the Astra was lower than she’d ever realised. She’d not understood before why she’d heard blatant disrespect of her parents, nor why she’d needed to train harder than anyone else in combat. Those things she’d done without complaint, but even Hyunjin had a limit. Heejin had been there to see it broken when they were children. 

Heejin didn’t respond and went over. She knelt down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She wiped away the teardrops she saw. 

Hyunjin closed her eyes. She let out a long breath. 

“I don’t feel anything for him,” Heejin said. “Even the bond is weak.”

“They all start weak,” was the response, “only get stronger once the two get closer.”

“Which we won’t.”

Hyunjin opened her eyes. “Don’t say that.” Her brow furrowed. “This’s a good thing.” 

“Really?” Heejin asked. “Are these tears of joy?” She brushed away another as it fell. 

She shook her head and pulled away. “What I’m feeling now doesn’t matter.”

She took Hyunjin’s hands in hers. “It always matters.”

“You’ll need to stop thinking like that,” Hyunjin muttered. She pulled her hands away. 

Heejin frowned. “Just because there’s a bond, doesn’t mean you and I can’t be like this.” 

“This was never meant to happen,” Hyunjin snapped. 

“Hyun,” Heejin started. She hated seeing this. She could almost feel the way Hyunjin’s heart twisted. 

“No,” she got to her feet, “stop looking at me like that. Stop reaching out.” She closed her eyes and two large tears slid down her cheeks. 

Heejin stood as well. She needed to wipe them away. “This doesn’t change—”

“It does.” Hyunjin took her wrists and kept Heejin’s hands away from her face. Thankfully, she didn’t move away this time. “It changes all of it.” She dropped her wrists, her eyes still closed. “And we’ll need to get used to that.”

“Get used to what?” she asked. “Whether or not I turn left or right, I get to choose that. That’s how the future works. It adjusts. This isn’t any different.”

She shook her head. “Of course it’s different, Heejin. My parents didn’t like that they were bound together, but the moment they looked past that, they saw how much of a blessing it was.” She opened her eyes, her gaze hard. “And you can’t tell me that your parents’ bond was something as trivial as lifting a hand or not. Just because it's affecting you in a way you don't want, doesn't mean it's wrong." 

Heejin didn’t know how to answer that. 

“Tomorrow I’m asking to join Hyojung and the rest.”

Her stomach unknotted itself. And it weighed as much as a stone now. “What?” Hyojung led her group all across the world, which was both an extensive patrol and an opportunity to help those who’d had the bad luck to encounter a dark spirit. They were gone for months, sometimes years at a time. 

“It’ll be better if I’m not there,” Hyunjin replied. “Those initial months usually count for a lot.” 

“You can’t leave.” Heejin’s voice sounded hopelessly small to her. She felt small too. How could one aspect of the future play such a big part in their lives? So much that Hyunjin would turn away from her now?

“It’s better for both you and I if I’m not here.” The corner of her lip tugged up. “No distractions.” With that, Hyunjin sat down again. “Go back. They'll be wondering where you went.”

Heejin wished she could protest, wished she could make Hyunjin see that nothing had changed for her, but she couldn’t. Not when Hyunjin looked so defeated and so resolute in leaving. 

So she went back. Each step felt wrong to her. 

And while she couldn’t say it, she knew Hyunjin was wrong. The rest were too. So was the moon. Priad was fine, but he wasn’t Hyunjin. And if the person her soul was tied to was ‘fine’, then how was she supposed to put her faith in that?

______

Choerry gazed up at the dark spirit. It stared back with almost teasing eyes and it looked between her hands and eyes. 

“I can’t give you that,” she said. “It burns you.” And then she’d hurt him, maybe even turn him. She didn’t want either to happen. 

The bat blinked. Its eyes were two-coloured: coal and fire. And now they continued to challenge her. She’d named him Hypnos, after a mortal god the Greeks had said was tied to sleep. Her Hypnos was almost always sleepy. That he was a spirit made that fact strange and that he slept during the night made it even stranger. 

Stifling a sigh, Choerry set her gaze back onto her work. She held out her hands, tentatively reaching for the seed she’d placed there. It responded to her, careful, yet ready. The plants always were. 

She closed her eyes, urging the earth to provide what the seed needed. She called forth her light, letting it seep into the ground. That would provide the warmth that often triggered growth of the plants. She didn’t know why, but she knew it was connected to how the light healed injuries. 

The sound of earth crumbling reached her ears. She didn’t open her eyes, but the sound made her smile. A hundred years ago, she’d have never dreamed this possible. Fifty years ago, she’d barely been able to get a seed to sprout. After Hyejoo's banishment, she’d barely been able to control any plant, only dirt. In the years that followed, she’d slowly worked her way back, first tackling grass, flowers, and fruit bushes. 

Today she was trying again with fruit trees. Normally, it took years for fruit to sprout. For immortals, that was hardly an issue, but now that the Astra had discovered she could drive that process forward, they’d pushed her to further her magic. It’d been similar to how they’d treated Jinsoul. Before she’d discovered how to infuse water with moonlight, her water magic had been considered useless. After she’d learned it, the Astra had finally respected her other abilities. 

It was the first example of their hypocrisy and it'd hardly been the first. 

Choerry’s eyes still burned at the memory. What they’d done to Hyejoo, she’d never forget. She’d never be able to escape the memories of that day and she would never forgive the Astra for what they did that day. 

The only exception were those she knew regretted it. As hard as it had been to accept, she’d seen how Chuu suffered. She’d caught glimpses of Gowon’s pain. Her initial reaction to the bond had been that Gowon hadn’t deserved having it with Hyejoo in the first place. Then she’d spotted the shadows in her eyes and the near constant hurt there. And while Yves seemed to be as unyielding as a tree, her actions and few lapses in her mask gave her guilt away. 

She was far from forgiving them, but she couldn’t deny what she saw. She knew Yeojin and Heejin couldn’t stand to look at them, let alone speak to them. The rest of them had reached an uneasy truce. The exceptions to that were Jungeun and Jinsoul. They were like her in that they hadn’t forgiven them, but they were separate enough from the Astra that they could look past that. 

Then a rush of cold trickled down her back. She’d felt that before when the light had been sucked from the air and spirits had turned from bright to dark. Hyejoo’s darkness had been able to make even a warm night near freezing. It hadn’t scared her, she remembered, but she’d seen the terror fill the rest. 

Choerry looked around, gazing into the paths laid out in front of her. There were the small ones left by leaves that were going to fall soon, as well as more erratic ones left by small animals in search of food. 

Then she saw it. It was faint, but no less obvious to her. The sight made her chest clench. She saw a face streaked with black blood. The path wasn’t white or any other bright colour, but a mixture of grey and black. She only saw it because it was laid against brighter paths. It seemed to draw on the light of those paths, draining them. 

She gathered her things and nearly stumbled as she went to follow it. Hypnos followed. He tended to walk instead of fly. Another reason why she’d thought the name fit: he was lazy. 

The path led her away from camp. Focusing on it now, she saw that it went further than she'd thought. If she followed it, it wouldn't take her to the next town, but a town after that, perhaps even past that, but it fit what'd been happening. Whatever was happening with Gowon and the mutilated bond she shared with Hyejoo now, as well as the unrest in the seers, Hyejoo was closer than she’d been in years. 

Questions flooded her mind. She thought of half as many answers. Why would she be here? What was bringing her back? Something related to what she’d done before? Was there some pull to hear because of them, something that was causing Gowon to be aware that the bond wasn’t completely gone?

Was she here so that the bond would disappear? 

Choerry shook her head. She was only just starting to grasp what possibilities the moon presented to her. She was far from understanding the purpose behind that. Sometimes she wondered if there even was a purpose. Chuu always skirted around that topic. She hadn’t said it, but Choerry knew Chuu had hated getting the sight at a young age. She knew Chuu hated how much of her life had been spent hiding her knowledge. Choerry was just barely beginning to understand that hatred herself. 

No spirits came to her, even though her mind was going mad with questions. She was also nervous for what she’d find—who she’d find. Still, they weren't coming after her. 

Voices came to her sooner than she’d thought. They weren’t the ones she was looking for, but they were exactly on that very same path. Choerry suddenly felt dizzy just by considering that turn of events. 

“Yerim?” Jungeun held a white blade in her hands. It vanished immediately. “Why’re you out here?” Her brow furrowed as concern flooded her features. 

She nearly smiled at how much care the elf could show to a person. She was also close to retorting that she could be anywhere she wanted in this forest. 

Instead she looked to Chuu who stood beside her. “Do you see it too?” 

Chuu’s frown showed her that she hadn’t. “Which one?”

“Here.” Choerry knelt down and traced the path in front of her. It was cold to the touch. It filled her with loneliness and a slow-building anger. She took her hand away and moved away from it. A sense of something being very wrong began. “Do you feel any different?” she asked Jungeun. Sometimes people who weren’t seers could feel certain changes. 

Jungeun shook her head. 

Chuu followed her gaze and frowned. “I don’t see it.”

Choerry stepped back onto the path. Cold seeped into her body. It flooded her when she took the next step. 

The peach-eyed elf finally nodded. “Now I can, but not much.” She looked at her. “Why?” By her expression, she already knew where it led to. The skin around her eyes was tight and regret was starting to appear in them. Amazingly, it was with Jungeun and Choerry where Chuu opened up. Neither Gowon nor Yves knew of her sight. Choerry was still taken aback by that. She understood why Yves didn't know, but not Gowon. Maybe telling one and not the other would make the lie worse. 

She was also starting to understand that. 

“It goes to Hyejoo," Choerry said. 

“Here?” Jungeun looked between them. “You know where she is?”

“Closer than she ever was,” Choerry replied. “But still far away.”

“Then we have to go." 

Choerry nodded. Then she looked back to Chuu. “Is this a suggestion? Or just a chance?” Maybe they'd find her again, but there was no guarantee that Hyejoo wouldn’t run the moment she sensed they were close. Could they blame her if she did?

“You should follow it,” Chuu said. She eyed the path. Sadness had filled her gaze, something Choerry had gotten used to seeing when Chuu let her guard of smiles down. 

Jungeun’s head snapped to her then. "Not you?"

“It wasn’t a path I could properly see,” she whispered. “So I’m not meant to find her.”

It might’ve been true, but Choerry knew the real reason. Jungeun would soon enough as well. 

“I’ll make sure your absence isn’t unusual,” Chuu straightened, "should I tell Jinsoul?”

“I’m telling her when we get back,” Jungeun replied. “She needs a clear head.”

With the injuries and the growing doubt Choerry knew Jinsoul had over Jungeun’s behaviour, she really did. 

“She’ll worry anyway,” Choerry said. She remembered Jungeun’s initial adventures—the ones she’d taken after Choerry had finally started settling in with the Astra. Even though Jinsoul and Jungeun had known each other for a fraction of both their lives, the two had been exact complements to one another. Jinsoul had hated each time Jungeun had gone off alone. She’d recognised Jungeun’s recklessness long before Choerry had seen it. 

Jungeun sighed. “If you’re sure.”

“If you're going to see her,” Chuu’s voice trembled, “then she needs to see the people she loved—still loves.”

With that, she turned away, going in the opposite direction of the path, back to camp, leaving the two of them in silence. 

Again, Choerry was reminded of the pain and regret Chuu held.

“Let’s go?” Jungeun squeezed her shoulder. “Or do you need time”

“You were the one who practically volunteered immediately.” 

She nodded. “But we’re going together.”

Choerry found the energy to smile then. “It’ll be a long trek,” she said. “That’ll be enough time for me.” At least she hoped so. 

______

Jinsoul dabbed at the wound. It hadn’t closed yet. It’d been a day and the black lines had only retreated a few fingers. 

“Can I use the elixir?” she asked, seeking out Nuala in the tent. It’d grown in the past years, almost double the size it'd been when she'd first arrived. 

“How much do we have?” The healer shot her a probing gaze. It was warmer than it’d been before, but it still made Jinsoul feel as if she were being tested. 

“Enough,” Jinsoul replied. “I’m making more tomorrow.” Which included tracking down the nearest witch, unless Choerry would be awake enough to grow some herbs during the day. She was still training with that and the ingredients for potions were even more difficult than growing a fruit tree. No, Jinsoul would just find the witch and do some gathering by herself. 

Nuala just nodded in response.  

“Is it that bad?” Jennie raised a brow. “I feel fine.”

Jinsoul gave her a look. “You really want to seem tough now?” She grinned. “It’s soundproof too, you know, you can cry it out.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Then give me the damn elixir.”

Jinsoul did, fighting the urge to laugh as the older elf’s face scrunched together. 

“What’s in this?” Jennie faked a gag. 

“You’re better off not knowing.” 

Jennie's brow furrowed, but whatever retort she had died on her lips. Her gaze had softened, focused on somewhere else in the tent. 

Jinsoul didn’t even have to turn around to know who’d just walked in. 

“She’ll survive,” Jinsoul called over her shoulder. After adding a few drops of the healing potion to the wound directly, as well as another layer of light-infused water, she quickly put on fresh bandages. 

“You should’ve heard her complaining on the way back,” Lisa muttered, sitting beside Jennie on the cot. Their hands found each other almost immediately. “She acted like she was dying.” Her yellow eyes were humorous, but they’d been full of terror yesterday. 

Jinsoul didn’t say that a wound like what she'd had was actually very deadly. They were lucky to have been close enough to the camp. She didn’t want to think about how it would’ve been if Jennie and Lisa had been on a patrol route like Jungeun’s. 

Just the thought gnawed at her. The red-eyed elf insisted on going farther and farther away than she needed to. She took on spirits and other beings when she didn’t have to. They were usually too far away from camp to be considered a real threat to them. 

“Thanks to this,” Jennie lifted the empty potion vial, “it doesn’t burn that much anymore.” 

“Just drink another,” Jinsoul said. She took up a waterskin and let more light flow in. "Take this when you wake up and please,” she shot Lisa a look, “don’t go on another patrol for a little bit.”

Lisa looked almost offended. “Why me?” 

“You’re giving her light whenever she needs it,” Jinsoul replied. “From what I’ve seen, the light of the person you’re bonded to works better than any other.” She handed Jennie the waterskin. “So however you do it, give it to her when she’s finished this.” 

“Can we give you the light too for the water?” Jennie asked. “The normal stuff doesn’t taste the same anymore.” The smile she gave her was tinged with gratitude. 

Jinsoul returned it. “‘Course you can.” 

The two elves nodded and got up. Jennie was a bit shaky on her feet, but Lisa steadied her, muttering a remark about her getting old. 

Jinsoul chuckled as she bid them goodbye. She tried not to dwell on her brief feelings of envy. Each glance they gave one another was filled with an affection Jinsoul only knew slightly. She’d hardly spotted it directed at her, but she knew her own eyes had held it before. 

As she went to the next person, one of the youths, Yuqi, she started feeling restless. Her thoughts went to a person who should’ve been taking today off. 

“What happened this time?” Jinsoul gave her a mock glare. She needed to focus on who was here. 

Yuqi blushed. “I might’ve gone too far out.” 

“With others?” She hoped it wasn’t with another girl she knew of, someone who was also getting to be just as reckless as Jungeun could be. 

Yuqi shook her head. A bit too quickly. “It wasn’t a really bad spirit. Handled it pretty quickly.” She looked at her arm, which, sure enough, didn’t seem too badly hit. 

Jinsoul set about to cleaning it. She kept silent as she did it. Yuqi was too kind-hearted to leave her in the dark about this sort of thing. 

“We thought it was one of the better ones,” Yuqi murmured. “They usually don’t have that much darkness in them, like this one, but—”

“You don't have to explain,” Jinsoul said. She was happy to see Yuqi talking about the benevolent dark spirits as ‘better ones’. The worst thing they could do now was start telling the younger ones that all dark spirits were bad, when they clearly weren’t. Like Yeojin, Yuqi had been old enough to know what Hyejoo’s banishment had meant, but not close enough to her to get angry about it. 

“We—I,” Yuqi sighed. “There were three of us out.” 

She stifled a smile. Of course she'd fess up. “But they’re not hurt?”

Yuqi shook her head. “We were all working together. No one lost too much light.”

Jinsoul nodded. “That’s the best way to do it.” The bleeding had mostly stopped, so she just wrapped it in a moonlight-water-infused cloth. It’d be fully healed by morning. 

Yuqi’s blush strengthened. “But we still shouldn’t have done it.”

She grinned. “Nope.”

“It was my idea,” a new voice said. It was deeper than most, but not as deep as Yuqi’s. 

Jinsoul turned to see Yeojin strolling into the tent. She was both smiling and frowning at the same time. 

“We’ve all been bored here," Yeojin shrugged, "I wanted to find a new place to explore, since the river goes on further than everyone’s been telling us.”

Jinsoul nodded. On good days, she could feel the exact progression along the river. On good days, she could usually find her way based on which part of the river she was at, not through the water exactly, but through how it moved. That didn’t mean the rest were able to do that. A few times, they’d had to go searching for Yerim, Yeojin, or however many of the other younger elves. 

This might’ve been one of them, but they’d come back the moment Yuqi got hurt. Jinsoul silently thanked the moon for keeping that sense in the girls. 

“Did you find it?” Jinsoul asked. She patted Yuqi’s arm. “You’re good. Just don’t explore until we have at least the first quarter again.” 

Yeojin sniffed. “No one needs that much out there.”

“We need it now,” Jinsoul replied. “You were lucky to find a weaker dark spirit today. What if a different one comes? Or a pair?” The mothering role fit more with Jungeun or Haseul. Once it had been Yves, but none of them were here. And through being a healer, she’d learned how to act like some type of authority. 

A frown was growing. There wasn’t anger, but she did see Yeojin's frustration. “We’ll be in a bigger group.”

Jinsoul shook her head. “It’s not that easy.” 

“You’re just saying that, because we’re young.”

Jinsoul shrugged. “I’m saying that, because it’s dangerous for Jungeun, Yerim, and me too. We don’t need the light for half the things we do, but you do. Hyunjin and Haseul go in bigger groups too.” 

Yeojin didn’t respond to that. Yuqi was looking between them, cradling her arm. 

“No exploring?” Jinsoul gave the latter a stern gaze, but followed it up with a smile. 

“No exploring,” Yuqi said, giving Yeojin an apologetic look. 

“Fine,” Yeojin sighed. “But it’d be better if we actually learned how to deal with the new spirits.” 

Jinsoul could’ve said that even they didn’t know how to do that, but she didn’t. Not where the others who were injured could hear, nor when Yuqi was still listening. 

The restlessness was still there. Jinsoul wondered if today would be another long day spent waiting for Chuu and Jungeun to finally come back. She still felt a pang of hurt each time it was the two of them going and not Jungeun and Jinsoul. Was that ridiculous of her to think, or justified?

The curtains parted then, revealing Chuu. She looked more worn down than Jinsoul had ever seen her. 

Beside her, Yeojin stiffened, her frown turning into a scowl. 

Jinsoul felt a twinge of guilt for not sending them away sooner. As much as Yeojin’s anger was justified, Chuu wasn’t supposed to be on the receiving end for decades on end. None of those three were. 

Chuu held the hateful gaze sent her way for a moment. The fatigue in her eyes just grew, along with defeat. “Jungeun and Yerim will be gone for a few days.” 

“She’s not with you?” Jinsoul asked. 

“Why?” Yeojin spat at the same time.

Jinsoul fought the urge to tell her to leave. 

“They’re following something,” Chuu said. “Heard it in the town there. The two of them went to follow. Jungeun said I should come and tell you.” 

Don’t worry and don’t follow, Jinsoul thought. As always. “Thank you,” she said instead. 

Chuu gave her a small smile. She knew exactly what Jungeun’s words meant. 

“What are they following?” Yeojin asked. Her tone hadn’t gotten any softer. 

Chuu winced. “A surge in stories. We couldn’t tell if it was a spirit or something else.” There was no flicker in her eyes or waver in her voice. 

Jinsoul watched as Yuqi nodded and Yeojin’s expression reverted to a frown. They believed her. Jinsoul would’ve, but somehow she knew it was a lie. She was caught off guard by how she knew that, but also at how well Chuu lied. Had she always been like that? Did Jungeun know that? With how close they'd gotten, Jinsoul hoped so. 

Chapter Text

Guards met them in the forest. Jungeun had spotted their armour and immediately stopped to cast an illusion over her hair. Ever since she’d been born with pale hair, she hadn't been able to change it at will. She could with her eyes, but not the hair. 

Only after she’d sought out a witch had she finally learned a spell to darken her hair. It didn’t go completely black, but to a brown colour. That shade was still light enough to be considered odd, but not enough to stand out completely. It was if she was meant to have lighter hair. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. 

She’d also discovered that even in the west and north where paler hair arose, she wasn’t able to blend in at all. Her facial features were the issue there. What few expectations those people had made the light hair even stranger. 

Now, with brown eyes and hair, she and Yerim stumbled onto the path. They held each other's hands tightly. 

“Stop!” A sword clanked at the guard’s side. 

The group strode over, coming to a stop a metre before them. Their torches burned. Even though Jungeun could call on those flames and Yerim could open up the earth beneath them, the two of them huddled together, trembling. To give the mortals peace of mind, they almost always had to give them a sense of control. Whether that meant acting afraid, naive, or lost, they’d learned how to fall into these masks. 

The other elves hadn’t quite gotten that. Most mortals ended up thinking they were bizarre, arrogant, or both. Some were charmed, as the light often seemed to have a comforting effect on them. There was also the fact that many elves moved with undeniable confidence, pairing it with grace or power. That captivated mortals just as much as magic did. A fair amount of elves were also remarkably attractive, which excused a lot of other things. 

Of them, only Hyejoo, Hyunjin, and Jiwoo had managed to leave that behaviour behind. Jungeun had always hoped that Hyejoo still retained that, both to hide the turmoil that surely ate away at her and whatever magic she’d received instead of light. 

Jungeun remembered the cold and faint sweet scent of darkness then. Why she could recall it so well, she didn’t know.

A gruff voice jolted Jungeun from her thoughts. 

“What purpose do you have here?” The guard in the centre was slender and his armour was light. He carried himself as an experienced fighter did. Even a mortal knew that heavy armour wasn’t always the best option. 

Yerim spoke first. “We only wished to pass though, sir.” Her voice was small, but still bright. “My sister and I were lost, but now,” she trailed off, “for us to see we’ve found someplace safe, we—” Another falter. Her lower lip trembled. 

Jungeun knew she was tapping into her worry for Hyejoo and how tired she actually was for this performance. Even so, she was surprised at how convincing the younger elf sounded. 

The guard’s eyes softened. “You must stay the night, miss. It’s only safe indoors tonight. Especially now.”

Jungeun buried the worry that shot up then. “We’ve been able to escape animals, sir. Not many at this time.”

He shook his head. “There’s certainly cruelty on these roads, miss, and recent events mean there’s a curfew. Temporary, but with good reason.” He actually sounded regretful. He didn’t ask their reasons for being here. Perhaps his guesses about what their current state was ensured he didn’t want to. 

Yerim’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

Another guard raised a hand. “Nothing to repeat.”

The first guard smiled meekly. “Come with me. I’ll escort you to the inn.”

Jungeun managed a smile. “Thank you, sir.”

His own smile warmed. He also straightened. “Of course.”

They began to walk. Jungeun felt their eyes follow, while one man kept looking over at her. She was glad he didn’t stare at Yerim. Though she was older than all of them, she was still far younger than Jungeun. She knew enough about how others, specifically mortals saw them. She’d rather those gazes weren’t turned towards Yerim. 

So, giving Yerim a look, Jungeun walked a bit faster towards the guard. He saw her approach and slowed. 

“You can’t tell us anything else?” Jungeun whispered, knowing full well that Yerim would hear it, but he wouldn't. “We’ve walked for hours. If we’re really not safe, then,” she broke off. Doubt and worry was easy to put on. She was hardly pretending. 

He grimaced, but Jungeun knew he was considering. 

“Please,” she leaned closer, dropping her voice further, “we’ve run from worse than cruel men on the street. I know these woods well.” Which was true. “I’ll take my sister to the next town tonight.”

A shake of the head. “This is no cruel man,” he hesitated, “we hardly know what it is. Some men doubt, but we don’t.”

Jungeun nodded, but didn’t speak. 

“There,” he met her eyes, before nodding as well, “there was a threat to a man’s life. He's near mad with terror. All thought it was lunacy of some other cause, but I saw the house. Where something had come in.” He shuddered. “I've never felt something so false in my life.”

Ice trickled down her neck. Only a few times had she heard of deaths that felt ‘false’ in that way. They were deaths caused by darkness. Only once had Jungeun seen the body. That’d been before the darkness had reached Hyejoo, but what if something had happened here because of her?

A threat to a man’s life. It hadn’t been carried out. That had to be a good sign.

“Was he hurt?”

The guard shrugged. “No one may see him, save healers. He sent his family away. I think he fears they’ll return.”

“And his guards?” Jungeun asked. Wealthy and powerful mortals always had them. 

“They saw nothing,” he said. “All were relieved from duty at the house, but not fully from his service. A few're here.” He glanced at them. "But it'd be best not to ask them." 

Jungeun frowned. This human should've kept all of his protection at a maximum, not away from his home.

“Forgive me.” The guard lowered his head. “Nothing you’d like to know, I understand.”

She didn’t correct him. She only nodded. From him, she’d heard enough. 

______

Choerry forced a gap between the bushes. The leaves and branches withdrew under her influence, either curling inwards or growing back into their stems completely. 

“These better not whip me,” Jungeun muttered. 

She smiled. “They’ll try their best.”

She hadn’t come to the Astra with the best grasp over her magic. She’d all but mastered control over earth, but it'd not always been so easy with plants. Jungeun and Jinsoul had taught her about light and how to broaden her original magic. 

But of course, that hadn’t been enough. She’d had to develop an eye for the future as well. It would have its uses, but she still hated it. 

As a child, Choerry had always found it amazing that there were elves, even witches, who could use their magic to predict the future. 

But for her, instead of reading the stars or having specific dreams (though those also came now and then), she read the ground and people. It was almost never neatly presented to her and mostly consisted of feelings about the future, ranging from unsettled to calm, sometimes even excited. 

She rarely liked what she saw. She didn’t like having to hide it and she didn’t like how it made her feel either. 

Like now, she saw the darker path, more grey than anything else. That darkness seeped into the other paths along the ground and the stone wall. Hyejoo must've climbed it. 

Seeing it now, she could only remember the day the light had abandoned Hyejoo. The day they'd voted her into exile. 

Choerry hadn’t been able to see then. She was glad she hadn’t. Otherwise, she’d have seen how ruined a bond could become between two people.

Then again, if she’d had the magic then, could she have followed Hyejoo? Could she have gone with her to wherever it was she’d gone? 

Time and time again, Choerry had been told how darkness corrupted. They'd described how it was the night that allowed dark spirits to be born or bright ones be spoiled. 

She was almost certain that the Astra repeated it to reassure themselves that they’d made the right decision. If you believed that evil was inevitable, that made dispelling any trace of it easier. 

Ironically, Chuu had been one of the main people to deny those beliefs. She’d left the camp with Yves once to go to the emotional fae, some of the most reclusive individuals in all of existence. There they’d asked about light and darkness—big steps for any non-fairy. Choerry could barely tolerate the lessons of the Astra, let alone the ramblings of almost any fairy. 

There, they’d learned that the light could be different kinds of emotion: calm, excitement, and even love (though how love was supposed to be one emotion, Choerry didn’t know). 

Darkness contained hatred, grief, rage, and fear. It also held sadness.

Chuu had told her that the benevolent dark spirits also held sadness and other non-aggressive emotions. Some might have even had good hidden within them. 

She’d also said that might be the very darkness Hyejoo had. 

Except much of the darkness she saw now held anger. It wasn’t explosive, but it was potent. She could almost imagine that the emotions were her own. Almost. 

“Let’s go,” Jungeun whispered. “Her magic still lingers here.”

For a moment, Choerry wondered how Jungeun knew that. Then she remembered that the past and present were much more accessible for the rest. Sometimes Choerry had trouble seeing what was and what had once been. Chuu had said that Yves had an excellent eye for the past. 

They cut into the hastily repaired wall. The light they used warred with the darkness still within the wood. Each tried to destroy the other. 

Being so close to the darkness now, Choerry realised that the guards weren’t patrolling this part. It seemed an oversight, but she now knew that they felt unsettled here. She wondered how the man felt with the darkness still clinging to him. 

Their path had grown even more pronounced. When they got into the house, she began to follow it. 

Their steps were soft on the floor, but not silent. 

“Who’s there?” The voice trembled. 

Choerry looked to Jungeun, a panic settling in. They weren’t in danger, but how would they do this if he thought they were dangerous?

Jungeun just shook her head. “People who can help,” she said. There was no trace of surprise or fear in her eyes. 

No response. 

They kept walking. Choerry could hear his quickened breath and heart. 

She looked at the pouch at her waist. They’d probably have to use that. 

They stopped at the door the path had led them to. Nothing had changed. He wasn’t going to attack them. Probably. 

She opened the door. As a child, she’d loved to go to mortal towns. They’d made countless constructs of wood. The first time she’d come, she’d learned that most people grew terrified of magic if they saw it. Especially if it involved sights they could hardly reconcile—bending trees, fast-growing plants, churning dirt, and deformed doors. 

“Stay there,” the man snapped. He was gaunt with large bags under his eyes. In his hand, he held a sword. His arm shook. His eyes flickered between them, hardly focusing. He looked both furious and terrified. 

“We told you,” Jungeun said softly. “We can help you.”

Choerry saw the darkness wrapped around him. It crept up his legs and was wrapped around his throat. Some was even near his heart. It was both familiar and foreign. Happier memories came to mind, but Choerry was even more unsettled about what had happened to leave the darkness here.

“Help me how?” He raised the weapon higher. He was too far away to be any threat with that. They’d still have to make him feel as if he was one. 

“We’ll only know once you tell us what happened.” Jungeun’s hands were empty. She held them out in front of her, palms up. “We might have some answers.” 

He still looked between them with wide eyes. The anger was almost gone, but he looked close to falling into hysterics. 

“We can get rid of the cold,” Choerry said. If a dark spirit ever caught a mortal and they survived, an Astran could get rid of the darkness, while a mental fae took the memories. They couldn’t live their lives normally if they still had one of those things. 

His hands stilled. “How?”

She looked to Jungeun. Would they really tell him about the light? He was already going to have his memory of magic erased, but it could still overwhelm him now. Even more than he’d already been. 

“Just know that we can,” Jungeun gave him a gentle smile, “and that you’re safe here.”

He nodded. The sword was lowered. 

“What happened?” Choerry asked. She could force a smile, but it was almost too bright for moments like this. Jungeun had the softer touch there. 

Luckily, he replied. “I didn’t hear her come in. And when she did, the room turned cold a-and then I couldn’t talk, move—I could barely breathe.” Whatever bravery he’d had left completely. He was only a scared man. “She put something cold here,” he pointed at his mouth, “and then something here.” He touched his throat. “Said she’d k…kill me if I screamed.” Tears welled up in his eyes. He hadn't been driven mad. He was traumatised. 

Her chest tightened. She gritted her teeth. This wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. 

“What did she look like?” Choerry asked. 

His brow furrowed. He was quiet for a few seconds. “There were black patches on her skin. She wore only dark clothes.”

“I meant her features." 

Jungeun gave her a look. Her voice was getting too harsh. 

“I,” he stammered. “Black hair and eyes. Unnaturally so.” His eyes flit between them and the room. “White skin, but like marble, with the darker lines and–” he sat down, deflated, “that’s all I can say, I–I—”

“It’s alright,” Jungeun said. 

It wasn’t enough, but how could they expect him to describe her perfectly? All the other rumours had been about a dark-haired girl and they’d known then that it was Hyejoo. 

Choerry also knew it was her now. She didn’t want to be right, but the evidence had been there at the wall, in the house, and in this man. 

“Why didn’t she kill you?” Jungeun asked. The tender look in her eyes went against the sharpness of her words. 

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, “and I don’t know why she was going to, just–just,” he closed his eyes, “she was sent here.” 

“By who?”

“I don’t know.” Another shake of his head. It looked more like a twitch. “I don’t even know what she was.”

Jungeun walked over then. “Keep still now. I’ll take the cold away.” She lifted her hands. “She gave you darkness. I’m going to give you light.”

He nodded. With his eyes as wide and fearful as they were, he looked like a child. 

Choerry felt a brief flash of pity then. The question of who Hyejoo had been sent by still remained. She wanted to know why as well. Why order this man’s death in particular?

She took her bag and pulled out what she needed. 

“You think that’s necessary?” Jungeun muttered the words in crosesh. Her skin glowed, but her eyes were still brown. She wasn’t risking exposing him to seeing red eyes. 

Choerry nodded. She had to know why and if she knew that, maybe they’d know more about why Hyejoo hadn’t gone through with it. 

She made sure she had what she needed and walked over. Before coming to the Astra, she’d been told to spur the growth of different plants, ground their leaves and roots into powder, or draw out their sap to mix into something else. As she’d gotten older, she’d learned what those mixtures were actually capable of. She’d remembered each and gone out to witches, other elves, and even fairies to learn more mixtures. 

If they ever dealt with more difficult or distrustful mortals, she used them. If she wanted to give Teveril or someone else a few problems, she used them as well. 

“This will help as well,” Choerry murmured. “You’ll still be able to move and everything.” 

He hummed. Moonlight had different effects on people: euphoric, calm, giddy, and more. His was a combination of two. 

She opened a small wooden box and held it beneath his nose. The powder there would help calm him further. She uncorked a flask and poured some into his mouth. It wasn’t an elixir of truth, but most mortals became more forthcoming through it. Others would call her mixtures drugs. 

Jungeun flinched then. Choerry watched as darkness latched onto her fingers. It shot up Jungeun’s arms, sinking into her skin. Some lingered around her heart. There was still darkness from a previous spirit. It should’ve been gone by now, taken away by Jungeun's light. 

“Do what you have to.” Jungeun’s tone was too sharp: the darkness had been of anger. Choerry knew why there was so much anger, but knowing it hardly made her feel better. 

“Can you hear me?” Choerry squeezed his shoulder gently. 

“Yes,” he said. He was drowsy, but lucid enough. 

“Why would someone want to hurt you?”

“Many reasons.”

Annoyance flared in her. “What are they?”

“What I’ve done with my wealth, what I’ve achieved and how, my use of power.” He sighed. “But not one could’ve gotten someone like her here. I’d never seen her before. Her face was one I’d remember.”

More forthcoming. He was practically calling Hyejoo pretty, despite what she’d nearly done to him. It might've been funny had she not been here to kill him. 

“Would they hate you enough to pay for your death?” 

Jungeun shot her another look. This was a warning. 

Choerry ignored it. “What have you done to be so hated? Are there many who’d hire someone, or just one?”

His trembled. “My,” a long pause, “my wife would hate me.”

“They’re not here,” Choerry said. “Your family.” Horrible thoughts came to mind. Hadn't he sent them away?

“No.” He opened his eyes. They sparkled a bit more than normal now. His pupils had constricted. “My first wife.” He blinked once. 

“Did you kill her?”

His eyes widened. 

Jungeun’s hand now gripped Choerry’s shoulder. She wanted her to stop

“Did you?” Choerry asked. If he had, then that told them even more. If this was the work Hyejoo did, then that meant she was seeking justice for others, didn’t it? Wrongly, but Choerry could better see the reasons why Hyejoo had come all this way. 

“As good as.” A tear fell. “Made her return home in the middle of winter. She’d had a carriage, but it was caught in the storm.”

Jungeun stiffened. “Why did she go?”

Choerry recognised the shame in the man’s eyes. She’d seen it plenty of times. She’d felt it as well. 

“Couldn’t have children,” he slurred. 

“So you abandoned her.” Choerry could barely keep her voice from trembling. 

Jungeun didn’t give her a silent warning this time. 

He nodded, looking completely at ease from what they’d given him. Did he deserve to escape the fear Hyejoo had given him? She'd given him his life. Wasn't that enough? 

Choerry couldn’t know if this was the reason why Hyejoo had come, but she’d heard enough.

“Others will come,” Jungeun said. “They’ll help you more.” 

“She said others would come too,” he sighed again, “I don’t think they’ll let me live.”

A part of her wondered if those people's success would be a good thing. A part of her felt he deserved it. 

As the thought crossed her mind, Choerry saw the little light in him fade. The sight created a pit of sickness in her stomach. Had the 'others' decided they were coming in this very moment or was it because she’d started to wish him dead?

Choerry shoved her thoughts down. His fate was set. They weren't the ones supposed to protect him. He had guards for that. Mortal guards. 

Both of them were silent as they left. Neither said anything as they passed through the town with the inn the guard had found for them forgotten. They just made their way back into the forest, still quiet. 

There was a dark path leading towards the man’s house. It wasn’t Hyejoo’s, but another’s. Choerry didn’t tell Jungeun what she saw. Her stomach writhed, as though trying to make her reconsider. 

If Hyejoo had known that story, she would’ve come straight here, itching to right a wrong that was similar to hers. If this man had died that day, the justice Hyejoo had sought would’ve been there. 

But he hadn’t. That meant something too. Hyejoo wasn’t the monster the Astra painted her to be, nor the ‘wraith’ the mortals had deemed her as. Choerry knew this as well as she saw the paths before her now. 

So even if Hyejoo had been enraged by what she’d heard, it hadn’t driven her to kill. 

What did that mean if the man’s fate was still wreathed in darkness?

______

Olivia stopped where she was. She stared at the two figures in the distance. One had pale hair, the other dark. One was surrounded by a soft light with red streaks in it, the other with purple. She even recognised the way they walked. Jungeun had a stronger stride, while Yerim hadn't lost the light spring in her step. 

Just seeing them called on her anger. She felt how the shadows stretched out towards them. Immediately, she reined them back in. Of all people, these two were undeserving of that.

Just the thought made her pause. If she saw someone who truly filled her with rage, would she make the shadows crawl to their heart? Would she subject them to the same pain they had her? 

Much of her said yes. 

Olivia swallowed down her discomfort at the thought. She looked at the two figures again. They’d seen her. They'd begun to run in her direction. 

Would she run or stay where she was? So much of her wanted to run as well. And the rest wanted to stay and greet them. 

Why were they here? 

They’d realised what had happened. Someone had sent them here. A seer? Or had the news reached the town faster than she’d thought? And they now knew why she was here in the first place. Now all of them would know. 

Alluin had told her that even the Astrans who’d not hated him for his magic had eventually turned against him. Olivia hadn’t known he existed until he’d come to her. Neither Jungeun nor Yerim knew of him either. 

Olivia knew very well how even loved ones could turn away from a person. She knew how quickly it could happen. 

Another decision came then. She made it easily. 

As the two approached, Olivia summoned a blade of darkness. She held it at her side, its point directed at the ground, but she’d drawn a weapon nonetheless. 

Because even if they could be trusted, even if she still loved them, she never wanted to feel the sting of light on her skin. She’d never be surrounded by bars of light again. 

“H-Hyejoo?” It was Yerim who spoke. They'd stopped running at least twenty metres away. 

Olivia didn’t respond. She waited. She needed to see them properly. She needed to see their faces clearly and not vaguely as she did now. 

“It’s us,” Jungeun said. “Jungeun and Yerim.” 

“I know,” she rasped. Despite having had her fair amount of exchanges with that damned wolf, she still sounded as though she’d recently shouted herself hoarse. 

Both stiffened. 

And then they were close enough. Jungeun’s red eyes flicked between Olivia’s face and the blade. Yerim’s were only on her. Both sets of eyes were filled with disbelief and relief. Neither of them were afraid. 

What if that was because they knew that they’d find her here? What if they had turned against her in the last years? What if they realised they had a good reason to?

“Why’re you here?” Olivia asked. 

Yerim’s brow furrowed. She opened her mouth, but Jungeun spoke first. 

“We found out why you came.”

One question answered. When Olivia looked to the darkness, she saw it in Jungeun. There was both her own, as well as that of a spirit. It was still in her. Olivia felt the urge to take both away, but she forced it down. Not yet. 

“You saw him,” Olivia said instead. She tightened her grip on her blade. Would she really use it? Would she be able to hurt Jungeun and Yerim? 

If they tried to chain her, she knew she would. She knew how capable Jungeun was as a fighter and that Yerim wasn’t that far behind. She knew there’d be a fight if they tried something. 

Jungeun nodded. “And you didn’t go through with it,” she’d stopped looking at the weapon, “we know that now.” 

Even though the words were the truth, Olivia was caught off guard. Her expectations left her. Perhaps it was the time they’d spent apart, perhaps it was that she’d expected Jungeun to be here with Jinsoul and Yerim to be smiling brightly. Perhaps she’d expected them to act as if nothing had changed, to act in a way that would justify Olivia’s anger. 

She’d expected them to turn on her now that they had a reason too. 

And they weren’t going to. 

She absorbed the blade. Both sets of eyes went to her hands. They’d see the darkness crawl up her hand and coat her skin. 

Olivia expected fear. 

It didn’t come. 

“You got it under control?” Yerim took a small step forward. 

“I had a teacher,” she admitted.  

Jungeun’s brow furrowed. “How?”

They didn’t know Alluin existed. He was hidden in the same way Olivia would one day be. 

Her anger returned. 

“I wasn’t the first to be cast out.”

Yerim’s eyes widened. Jungeun’s didn’t. 

Olivia repeated her question. “Why're you here? Did the seers know? Or did you hear a rumour?”

Yerim and Jungeun exchanged a look then. It wasn’t secretive, but it was a silent conversation. 

Olivia didn’t feel unnerved by it. How many times had she watched Jungeun and Jinsoul have a similar exchange? Or Heejin and Hyunjin. How many times had she herself had those with another?

Her hands formed fists. Having two reminders of home brought other memories to the forefront. They reminded her of why she’d been tempted to run. 

“I’m a seer,” Yerim said. “It started after you were—after.” 

Olivia didn’t need to ask what that meant. “So the moon led you here,” she frowned, “to me.” 

Another nod. “No one else knows,” Yerim’s voice was reassuring, “not until—”

Olivia cut her off. “No one else can know.”

Again, Yerim looked surprised. “What do you mean?” 

Olivia frowned. How could she not see it? She was about to snap those very words at her when she realised how her frustration had spiked. 

She took a deep breath. “Astrans tried to chase after me once.” And if they hunted her down, then something would happen. She knew that much. 

Yerim looked to Jungeun then. Years had passed and she’d grown more serious, but now it seemed as though those years hadn’t passed. Olivia still remembered how she’d looked that day. She remembered the horror in Choerry's eyes. 

“Okay,” Jungeun said. Her gaze was sad. “But are you okay?” She also walked closer. Two steps this time. 

Olivia was tempted to back away. No one had come this close unless it was in a fight. She’d not come so close to someone unless it was to threaten them. 

“Are you eating properly?” Jungeun’s brow rose. 

Olivia snorted. “That’s what you’re asking me?” She could feel the corners of her lip tugging up already. 

She shrugged. “Are you?”

“I will be.” Today she’d make a proper fire. Then she’d have a good dinner when she got back to the cave. 

Both of them seemed to want to ask something else. 

Instead, Yerim leapt forward, wrapping her arms around Olivia’s shoulders. 

She couldn’t help but stiffen. She expected Yerim’s skin to burn her. She expected her own anger to rise and her control over the darkness to falter. She expected the cold to surge like it had several times before.

All that came was the warmth of Yerim’s arms. Then came a second pair, even warmer than the first. Olivia would’ve known who it was any day. 

“You’re freezing,” both said. 

Of course she was. The darkness held no warmth. She’d grown so accustomed to it. It’d made fires far warmer than before, while sunlight and summer had become more uncomfortable for her. 

They both tightened their grip on her. 

It was then that Olivia felt a strange lightness settle over her. To be held again and so close to people she’d known so well—it was a dream that’d become a reality. 

But dreams had their ends. The same would happen today. 

Olivia patted their backs and pulled away. The cold returned to her. She saw that Yerim had begun to cry. Jungeun’s eyes were glassy as well. 

Olivia’s eyes were dry. 

They remained as such when Olivia broke the peaceful silence. “Don’t try and find me again.”

Yerim’s brow furrowed. She opened her mouth, looking more lost than she had before. 

“How will we know you’re safe?” Jungeun asked. 

“You don’t have to know,” Olivia replied. “But can’t seers tell that sort of thing?” She glanced at Yerim. 

She shook her head. “I only knew this path existed a few days ago. Before that there,” she faltered, “there was nothing.”

Immediately, there was a curl of darkness. Yerim had lied. Did Olivia need to know what the truth was?

No.

“Why can’t we see you?” Yerim asked. “We just found you again. All we ever heard were stories.”

“A lot of them are true,” Olivia finished. 

Yerim's brow furrowed. She was worried again, but not disgusted. Neither was Jungeun. 

“You start coming to see me and others will notice.” She sought out the darkness in Jungeun and Yerim. She held out her hands. “I'll take away what you took from him. It doesn't hurt me." 

They did. Without asking. They trusted her. 

She took the darkness back. Some of it was familiar. The other part of it something she could bear. Thin black trails slithered over her fingers and up her wrists. It made her anger shift where it sat. Her grip on their hands tightened. She let go. 

“If you keep coming, someone may try to follow.” Olivia paused. She couldn’t bear Yerim’s wide purple eyes. She couldn’t hold Jungeun’s warm gaze either. Both reminded her too much of home. Both reminded her of everything she’d lost. “And I don’t know what I’ll do if I see them.” 

Them. That could’ve been anyone of the Astra, save for a few people. Her fingers itched at the prospect of wrapping someone in darkness, of taking hold of an Astran’s shadow. 

She closed her eyes. 

“And if we do come?” Yerim asked. “They’ll know of what happened soon, if they don’t already. What if Yeojin wants to know you’re alright? What if Heejin or Haseul need to make sure you’re safe?”

Olivia flinched with each name. “I’ll leave.” Again. But even as she said the words, she didn't know if she'd truly leave. She'd evade, yes, but not run fully. 

“But—” 

“I’m not coming back,” she snapped. 

This time, both of them winced. 

Olivia looked to see if the darkness had reached them. It’d strengthened, but no trace of it had fallen onto the two elves. Had her tone scared them?

“Go back,” Olivia muttered. “Don’t follow me, don’t consider the direction I’ve gone.” She held each of their gazes. “And get people to that town quickly. There'll be another attack.”

She didn’t add that even if his memories of Olivia were erased, he’d still be a target. Years could pass and he’d still not be safe. Maybe even a human assassin would carry out the job. Either way, his fate was set. 

“Who was it who sent you?” Jungeun asked. She still looked disheartened, but there was also some unease. 

Olivia wondered if it mattered if she said it or not. Would it be considered some sort of betrayal? Did that matter?

“He’s like me,” Olivia said. She quickly looked around the forest. No spirits had been alerted by her anger or the distress of the other two. Not yet. “His name’s Alluin.”

There was no recognition in their eyes. Just confusion. 

“He helped me.”

Jungeun’s question had an edge. “Then why’d he send you to kill someone?” 

“They help mortals do what they cannot,” she replied. “That includes killing.”

The elf’s lip twitched at that. Olivia briefly thought of what Jungeun had done in the past. The Astra still had use for her capabilities, but they hadn’t needed to use it for a while. Except for Jungeun’s patrols. 

Olivia turned around. 

“Wait,” Yerim called. Before Olivia could even stop, her question came. “Why’d you leave him?”

Because she didn’t want to kill someone? Olivia had realised that she could’ve gone back if she’d wanted to. She knew she wouldn’t have been banished for not doing something. 

No, there was a reason, one that wasn’t an excuse. 

“I didn’t need to stay.” Olivia’d learned what she’d needed to. She’d seen what she’d needed to see. 

Neither of them said anything. 

Olivia kept walking. 

Neither of them followed. She heard them start to walk the other way instead. 

A part of her felt disappointed. While she would’ve hated if they’d have followed, she did long to be going back with them. They were going home. 

She dismissed that notion. Their home was no longer hers. To go back would be to subject herself to bars. To go back would be to see those who’d turned on her. 

As she walked, she searched the forest for spirits. There were some bright ones nearing the two, but they were the benevolent kind. Nearing Olivia were two darker spirits. The wolf spirit was nowhere near. It’d actually remained in the cave when she’d left for the town. She’d heard how the news of her attacking the human had spread around the town. She’d watched the guards begin to patrol the edges of the town and along its roads. All because of her and who else may come. All of it would be ineffective. 

If Jungeun and Yerim had managed to sneak into the house without alerting any guards, the mortal had no chance for anyone who'd be sent to finish what Olivia hadn't been able to.

Then she felt it: a sense of something wrong in the air. It was familiar to her. It was the darkness that came with death. 

Olivia didn’t know how it worked, nor what her limit was, only that she knew someone was nearing. Their intentions were shrouded in shadow. She’d learned that feeling it to the extent she did now meant something less than ideal. 

Keeping one eye on the light at her back and the other on the new presence, she walked on. She vaguely recognised them. Not enough, but the hairs on her neck stood on end. 

She summoned another blade. Alluin had once said the one thing he’d never do was turn against one of his own. He’d also said she was free to go whenever she wanted. She didn’t know if she would still count to a part of his people.

The newcomer had come to a stop. Were they expecting her?

Sure enough, she saw them in the next minutes that passed. 

“Ho, deserter,” they said. He was a fairy, but his crosesh was exceptional. His eyes were a deep blue. Taegen. 

“Why’re you hear?” Olivia asked. Not for the first time. 

He shrugged. “Straight to the point.” The corner of his lip tugged up. “There’s still money to be had. That wench’s angry at the delay and newfound attention, but she’ll still pay.”

That meant the mortal woman truly wanted him dead. 

The darkness around him made more sense. The realisation made her heart sink. 

“You killed him.”

Taegen didn’t respond, but his smile remained. It didn't make him truly cruel, she'd learned that over the years. It just meant that human life was worth very little to him. He wasn't the only one where it was like that. 

And his presence here meant that Olivia's actions hadn't mattered. No matter how many would've spared him, the mortal had been dead. 

“He had a family.” Had they been in the house as well? Were they also dead? She hadn’t seen their faces. 

“You care for that sort of thing?” His brow rose. “From what I can tell of your kind, your parents would’ve also thrown you out.” A hum. “So I’d always assumed you were an orphan. Made for a less tragic story." 

The words tugged at an older wound. Although he was right, the light tone made her angry. She let it grow. 

“Did he send you?” 

“For the job,” he smirked, “not after you, Olivia. If you feared today was your end, it isn’t.”

She only nodded. 

His eyes went one way. Olivia knew what he looked at. “Who’s over there?”

“Elves.” 

The darkness around him made her feel even colder. Then it surged. "Astrans.”

“No.” It was both a truth and a lie. 

A smile. “Light smells.” Taegen's eyes narrowed. 

“They weren’t born with it,” Olivia said. Too quickly. “One has fire, the other earth magic.”

“Then I’ll take the sapling,” Taegen replied. “You’ll have the flame.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. 

He looked perplexed. “I know what they did. And with those two gone, that group of bigots get weaker.” 

Briefly, Olivia wondered why that would matter. 

“You won’t be able to fight them.” Not if he wanted to win. 

“You will.” Taegen drew out a blade. It was made of darkness. “And they won’t be able to fight this.”

Then he was off, his footsteps made soundless by the illusions of the fae. She’d started learning a spells for that in Alluin’s camp from another fairy. 

She watched the darkness sharpen. She watched it extend itself, wrapping around two elves. He’d made a decision. 

So had she. 

Olivia grasped his shadows and wrenched him back. His arm clipped the tree. 

He looked stunned. “Let me go,” he said slowly, “and he’ll not learn of what you’ve just done.”

Amazingly, she knew he meant it. 

Olivia reached out to the blade of darkness. It was Alluin’s. It held only rage. It drew on Taegen's own darkness. 

It flew into her hand immediately. Her lip curled. She fed it even more darkness. 

“Fight me for it then.” 

Taegen growled.

The air turned static. Jagged light streaked through the air, moving too quickly to dodge. 

It struck her chest. She flew back. Her skin burned. 

Blood coated her tongue. She’d bitten it. 

She forced his shadow to solidify. She drove it into his legs. 

He screamed. 

Olivia scrambled away. Another bolt hit her back. Mortals died if struck by lightning. She just burned. 

Her jaw was numb. All that left her now was a groan. 

Keep moving. She started running, feeling disconnected from her body. She let the darkness coat her skin. She forced Alluin’s blade to break into several shards. 

She threw each of them, spacing them out to catch him if he dodged. 

Taegen summoned lightning. Deafening cracks broke the silence. The sparks shattered the darkness. Not all of it. 

Olivia twisted the paths of the remaining shards. One sliced his cheek, while the other buried itself deep into his shoulder. 

He snarled. The anger would help to blind him. 

She dove to the side, rolling across the ground as she did. A bolt caused a tree behind her to explode. She stopped behind a larger one, letting the darkness spread across her fingers. 

Another crack. The sound of wood shattering followed. 

“Afraid?” Taegen's voice was a hiss. 

Olivia smiled. She reached for his shadow. Rather than taking hold, she poured more darkness into it. There’d be fear and anger there. 

A sharp gasp. 

She stepped out from the ruined tree. 

His hands trembled and his eyes were wide. He stared at her for a moment, before he lunged, fingers crackling. 

She let him come, before driving her fist into his chest. The impact sent a jolt of pain up her arm. She heard ribs crack beneath her hand. 

He lay on the ground now, his breath coming in short bursts. 

Then his legs hooked around her own. She was brought to the ground. She summoned another blade and landed the next blow. She heard him cry out, but didn’t know where she’d gotten him. 

A hand caught her wrist. The sparks across it seared the flesh. She clenched her teeth to stifle the cry. It didn’t work. Instead, it came out as a strangled shriek. 

She forced the darkness of her blood to seep into his skin. 

He recoiled, but she didn’t relent. It kept flowing. She had much to give. 

He began to scream. 

And Olivia felt herself begin to smile. 

Next, she made his shadow tangible. She wrapped it around his arms, legs, and neck. He whimpered. 

She leaned over him. “Afraid?”

Wide blue eyes held hers. The darkness around him held fear and hatred. She still saw the ties leading to death. He still wanted to kill Jungeun and Yerim. 

Olivia called on the remnants of Alluin's blade. She forced them to form a dagger. She lengthened the blade with her own darkness. If Alluin found him, he'd know it was her. And she'd let him. 

She said nothing. No questions, nor threats. 

Instead, Olivia drove the blade into his chest. It was easy. 

Only a whine left him. It was filled with pain. 

She left the blade there. She got to her feet. 

In that moment, she realised she wasn’t alone. 

She looked up. Instead of grey eyes, she saw pained purple and red ones. There might’ve been some sort of understanding in the scarlet ones. 

Olivia ran before she saw it. The shadows came to her readily. It was a cold and tight embrace. 

Her eyes burned. They weren’t tears for the fallen fairy, nor for the killing itself. He would’ve done the same to her. To them.

No, they were for what those two sets of eyes might’ve seen. There’d been horror in purple eyes. She’d seen sympathy and regret in the red ones. 

Briefly, she considered turning back. What if they could help her? What if Jungeun would tell her of her past experience in battle? 

Olivia pushed those thoughts away. She’d made each of her decisions. She’d already crushed whatever hope they’d had of her coming back. She couldn’t do anything to revive it. 

_______

They were left with the dying man. By the looks of it, he was a fairy, but in this moment, it didn’t matter. 

Olivia's words still in both their heads, they didn't follow her. Choerry had wanted to, but she knew Jungeun would've stopped her. 

Instead she looked down at the fairy. 

He’d wanted to kill them. Choerry had felt the moment his attention had shifted to them. She’d watched the light of others start to fade before, either on the day they’d been attacked or killed. She’d seen it before with the mortal. She’d never seen it happen to herself. 

The path in front of them had stopped some paces away. Jungeun’s light had flickered, but only that. Choerry’s had properly begun to leave her. 

And then it’d all stopped. The path home had reformed. Choerry had made them turn back, telling Jungeun to expect a fight. 

The sounds of said fight had reached them then. The taste of metal had been in the air. The cold had been immense. 

Then they saw them. Two figures, one wreathed in lightening, the other in darkness. 

How many stories had Choerry heard in villages and towns of the ‘wraith’? Some of them had actually been true, others fabricated out of the fear of mortals. 

When they’d seen the two then, Choerry had understood why they’d given her that name. She’d discovered why the man had trembled at the mention of her. 

Hyejoo had moved swiftly, her face partially obscured by shadow. Her eyes had held anger. All that Choerry had felt from the darkness, she’d seen on display in Hyejoo. 

The worst had been the faint smile. It’d reminded her of the special smiles Hyejoo had had before, as well as the rare grins and loud laughter she’d let out. Tonight she’d worn a hint of that before killing another. 

The fighting had ended before they could step in. Choerry knew she wouldn't have been able to either. 

And yet, as she looked down at the fairy, she didn't pity him, nor did she want to save him. Jinsoul would have. 

“When he’s gone, make the sigil to send him off,” Jungeun said. 

Choerry looked at her. “You’d give him a farewell?” Only then did she register Jungeun’s words: when he’s gone. Jungeun would let him die as well. 

“You want the people who sent him to come looking?” Her expression was unusually cold. Then she looked to the fairy. A muscle in her jaw tightened. She went over. 

Choerry could only watch as Jungeun knelt down. 

Gingerly, Jungeun took hold of the blade and wrenched it out. Blood sputtered from the wound. 

A strangled noise left him. Within seconds, the fairy froze. Dead. 

Jungeun dropped the blade. She flexed her hand. The skin was red and had black threads. They wound up her arm. Her face didn't change. 

Choerry watched as the darkness wound itself around Jungeun’s heart. Her light began to fade. 

Chapter Text

The news rushed through the camp. No one needed to be gathered for it. They just knew. 

A mortal was dead. His eyes had turned black. Veins of darkness now protruded out from his limbs.

His guards had been cut down as well, their bodies partially burned. Their eyes hadn’t changed colour. 

No one had gone to the house since then. No bodies had been cleared away. It was just standing there, alone. 

And immediately, the speculations rose. All of them centered around one person: Olivia. 

Jinsoul wanted to deny that suspicion. She wanted to say that it hadn’t been Hyejoo. She'd never target a mortal like that and she'd never be a part of a massacre. 

Hyejoo wasn’t the only one with the magic to control darkness. There were enough rumours and stories to prove that, but Jinsoul couldn’t say with confidence that the man whose body was wracked with darkness hadn’t been killed by Hyejoo. 

Then came other accusations, ones that were absurd. And they’d stirred the anger already sitting in her. 

“The one with fire is still out there,” someone muttered. Jinsoul hardly knew her. Was her name Lorain or Lierin?

Jinsoul grit her teeth. “Our seers would’ve seen that path long before it came.” Saying anything in ‘blind faith’ now would weaken her words. She needed to account for what the seers said, despite their words. For her, the idea of seers had been terrifying from the moment she'd heard about them. Now she knew them to be arrogant and disconnected from reality. 

Still, if she had to pretend she respected them to defend Jungeun, she would. 

Lierin or Lorain just shrugged. 

Jinsoul was close to socking her in the face. So she turned away. Maybe she wouldn’t give the elf numbing when she next got hurt. 

She pushed that thought down. Even among her old clan, she’d never denied someone aid even if she hated them. As a healer, you had to make the difference between need and want. It didn’t matter if she didn’t want to help someone. It was just important who needed help.

She looked at who else was discussing what had happened. 

“When it all happened, you said she’d never find people who’d tolerate her being there,” Heejin was saying, “so now you say she’s working with someone?” 

Kolina fixed her with a hard gaze. “Someone with as dark a heart as hers.”

Jinsoul watched as the rage surged in Heejin’s eyes. With her, there was a real risk of her punching someone.

“You don’t have to be evil to kill, Kol.” Jinsoul slipped her hand around Heejin’s arm. "But we do have to start thinking about what we’ll do next.” She hoped Jungeun would be back then. She might’ve been impulsive and stubborn, but Jungeun had instincts as good as any elder here. Jinsoul trusted her judgement more than any of theirs. 

Heejin pulled her arm away as they walked. She still wore a scowl. Jinsoul didn’t look, but she knew that if she did, she'd have seen Heejin's light darken. It was that darkness that usually drew on malevolent spirits. If you went on a hunt with inner turmoil, the spirits almost always came to you. Especially if you were alone.

“It’s starting again,” Heejin muttered. “We know she’s not the only one out there like this. Why can’t they even consider them?” 

Hyunjin had been hanging back, but she was still there nonetheless. She went to Jinsoul’s side, but not Heejin’s. 

Jinsoul saw the hurt flicker in Heejin’s eyes when it happened. She didn’t fully understand it. The lunar bonds and the still tumultuous Astran politics were all too messy for her, but she did know how the two felt for one another. That was obvious to anyone with a brain. 

“Having one threat is better than facing more,” Hyunjin said. “They don’t want to consider that an unknown threat is out there. She’s one they know.”

“One they trapped, hurt, and abandoned,” Heejin shot back. 

“Calm down.” Jinsoul didn’t reach for her this time. “They won’t let you join any search party if you don’t.”

The pink-eyed girl didn’t respond. 

Beside her, Hyunjin brushed a hand against Jinsoul's. She knew that only meant ‘thanks’, but was still glad that Heejin hadn't caught it. 

Haseul was talking to her mother, Lisa, Nuala, and a few others. She was discussing the search parties. 

“We don’t need more than five,” Haseul said. “If we’re expecting witches and vampires and they still haven’t come, then they will soon. What better time than now?” 

“If she’s on a killing spree, we’ll need ten,” one elf said. Even after so many years, Jinsoul still didn’t know this one’s name.

Haseul’s eyes shot to that elf, her gaze hard. “The seers have seen nothing in other towns. They've seen other threats to us and I’d rather take those seriously.” Then she turned back to Lisa. “People can volunteer for it, but they need to have enough light.”

Jinsoul found herself nodding along. The town would be a beacon to malevolent spirits, both light and dark. Spirits also came when there were killings between humans. When there was a battle, there was a risk of disruption in the form of dark spirits attacking both sides. They almost always fell into the war stories and folklore. 

Nuala also nodded. “And the healing process takes too long. If there’s an attack, we’ll have cut our own legs off by sending out too many.” 

Haseul didn’t show it, but Jinsoul knew she was relieved. In her experience, Nuala was one of the most understanding of the older Astrans. Due to her position as the main healer, her words were also valued. Nuala actually listened to Jinsoul too. Others didn't much, but at least Jinsoul'd gotten someone's ear in the Astra. It'd only taken her about a century to get. 

“Then five,” Lisa said. “Of maximum five people as well.” Then she was off. 

The others who’d been against it turned away as well, a few curses under their breath. 

“You’re staying,” Nuala looked at Jinsoul then, “the seers worry more than I’d care to say.” Her brow furrowed. “When the other two return, Yerim will need to help with the elixirs.” With that, she walked straight for the elders. They were somewhere in the centre. Lisa was already talking to Freya and Yuol. 

“Where’s Yeojin?” Haseul’s eyes scoured over the rest. 

“I’ll look for her,” Hyunjin said. “She might’ve heard the first part.”

Haseul grimaced. “And went looking?” 

She shrugged. “We’ll see.” She jogged off. 

Jinsoul caught Heejin watching the yellow-eyed girl. Her expression held both concern and some sort of longing. Heejin wasn’t going to be in a search party either. She’d be with the people getting the mental fae involved. Again. 

“And the newcomer?” Jinsoul asked. She hadn’t seen Viian’s pink hair once. She still didn't know why it was pink. A magical choice? Or born with it? 

Haseul’s calm expression was starting to waver. This was getting too much for her. “She was here until the rest came along.”

“First real look at our society,” Heejin scoffed, “I can barely fault her for not wanting to see the rest of it.” 

Jinsoul knew that well. She was also surprised that Heejin wasn't talking dismissively of Viian. Maybe she'd read the girl's hostility wrong. 

“Since I’m staying, I can go to her,” Jinsoul told Haseul. “And when Jungeun and Yerim are back, we’ll figure the rest out.” 

Haseul finally smiled. Her eyes shone with gratitude. She nodded. 

Jinsoul was glad to turn away from the chaos that was the Astra. They were all scared and confused. The younger ones were either eavesdropping or had been told to stay in tents to avoid said eavesdropping. Jinsoul pitied the people who’d be responsible for answering their questions later. 

Would anyone come to her for answers? She didn’t know if she was the right person to even talk about Hyejoo. Haseul and Heejin were better for that. Even Hyunjin was the better choice. 

Except for the fact that they were busy, half-overwhelmed, and Heejin would get too angry to talk about it. 

Jinsoul looked for the fainter light that was Viian. It started out dull for those who hadn’t been born Astran. As they drew on more light and used it more, that light grew to the same levels of a normal Astra. 

She found Viian within earshot of the camp, but pretty well hidden between the trees. 

She was sitting cross-legged. In front of her, a complicated looking rock with carvings hung in the air. Jinsoul recognised some as sigils, while others were in the script of the fae. It was comprised of more circular symbols than anything. 

“A mess, isn’t it?” Jinsoul said. “It wasn’t that bad when I came.” 

Viian started. There was a thud as the rock fell. She caught it with her hand. Her arm barely sank. 

So she’s strong too, Jinsoul thought. She felt guilty then for having barely spoken to her. Jungeun had gone out of her way to help Jinsoul start her life with the Astra, unhindered by how difficult Jinsoul had made it for her at the time. Having been the first non-Astra to be brought here, Jungeun had tried to ensure that she hadn’t felt alone. She’d done the same with Yerim. Jinsoul had tried her best to help, but Jungeun had always had a way with getting people to open up. 

Now Jungeun wasn’t here. They’d all been preoccupied with the new spirits, now even more so with the deaths of those mortals. To come to the camp when it was in this state made all the difficulties they'd faced seem minor. Viian would likely be very far from feeling at home here. 

Viian nodded. “Our discussions were often a lot cleaner when there were people reading our minds.” 

Jinsoul sat down beside her. “Wasn’t that too invasive?”

She shrugged. “Not if you grew up with it.” A small smile. “And befriended a mental fae yourself.” The rock her hand melted. It became a set of bands. They each wrapped around her arms. Was it to always have a weapon with her? Had she had those on before? “But I understand why the elves hate the fae." Viian met her eyes. "Our ways are foreign and a lot of our magic is invasive. As you said." 

Another burst of guilt, even though she knew Viian wasn’t throwing out some sort of attack. She just spoke as if it was a completely normal thing. 

“They’re not all bad,” Jinsoul replied. “I might like elementals more than mentals, and them more than the emotional fae, but they've all got their exceptions.” She nudged her. “Just like we’ve got our own.”

“You’re also more divided than we are,” Viian said. “But I suppose that’s because of your numbers being greater.” She frowned. “Witches and vampires fight among one another because they’re so varied as well.”

She hadn’t asked about Hyejoo yet, or Olivia, as everyone now referred to her as. 

“Do you miss it?” 

Viian didn’t respond immediately. She looked at the ground, almost as if searching it. 

“I was there long enough to learn to love it,” she said. “And hopefully I’ll be here long enough to do the same.”

Again, Jinsoul was reminded of what she’d forgotten about the newcomer. She’d been born between their two worlds. Jinsoul wondered if she’d been treated poorly growing up as well, if she’d been treated like an outsider from the beginning. 

“When I first came here,” Jinsoul leaned back against a tree, “I knew crosesh, but I didn’t really know what sort of place I was going to have to call home.” Then she remembered that Viian barely knew who she was, let alone where she came from. “I’m arcsan,” she said. 

“Sea elf?” She raised a brow. “Aren’t many of you blue?” 

Jinsoul laughed. “Not quite. I’m technically one of the landed ones. My mother was a full sea elf, my dad was from the ice.” 

She was proud to see the sparks of interest in Viian’s eyes. 

“What does ‘landed’ mean?” 

“Born like this,” Jinsoul pointed at herself, “instead of, well, blue, or another colour, and adapted properly to the water.” 

“Did that mean further division?” Viian asked. “If some were on land and the rest were free to explore the sea?”

“Sometimes.” Jinsoul shrugged. “But not that bad.” Not always at least, she added silently. 

“Was it difficult to leave?” 

“I think it’s always hard to leave home,” Jinsoul replied. “Whether you wanted to or not.” Again, she thought of Hyejoo. However bad her homesickness might’ve been, it was nothing compared to that. She was lucky to still be able to visit the sea now and then, even if it’d become easier to leave them at the end of each visit. 

Viian didn’t respond. She was getting that face again, the one where she was sinking away into her thoughts. 

“You know,” Jinsoul began, “Jungeun was the first one to be chosen by the moon. At least she was the first the Astra had come over here.” 

“And how,” Viian paused, “seers?” 

She nodded. “When she came here, she was just relegated to combat. She told me about how the only constructive thing they'd asked her to do was light the fires all around camp.” 

A pink brow furrowed. “All of them?”

Jinsoul grimaced. “All of them.” Thinking about it, she was reminded of how good she'd had it. She'd had someone there for her, someone who’d known about her homesickness and sense of not belonging. She'd also had someone who’d protected her from being treated like that. Jungeun had made sure to draw Jinsoul in to the small group of friends she'd made there. And they'd quickly become Jinsoul's. 

There was also the patience Jungeun had had, facing the way Jinsoul had treated her then. Jinsoul wouldn't tell Viian of that tonight. 

Viian sat back. “Why’d she stay?” 

“Her people forced her to go.”

Her eyes had flashed with anger. Then it was gone. Viian didn't say anything. 

“Dark spirits almost always go after us if we’re alone or in a small group,” Jinsoul said. “The rest can’t fight them, not really, but if just one Astra is in a group, they're sometimes the perfect target.” 

“So they were scared." 

“So were my people,” Jinsoul replied. “And Yerim’s.” 

Viian just nodded. She looked closed to annoyed. 

They sat in silence then. Jinsoul had needed to get used to that over time. She didn’t naturally like long silences, but she’d gotten patient enough to tolerate them. 

Viian broke the silence first. “Being born as I was, the rest didn’t want me there. It wasn’t that they thought I’d turn on them, only that I was from a union no one had understood or liked.” Her eyes locked on something in the distance. She looked tired. “My magic was just reforming stone at first,” she said. “And since it could be so destructive, the priority was to make it so that I’d mastered it before I’d turned twelve.” 

“Ah,” Jinsoul grinned, “and I thought we were early with sixteen.” 

She chuckled. “But since we needed to delve deeper into our magic, it was always known that I’d find ways to make myself less of a weapon. And I did.” 

Jinsoul was slightly taken aback by how casually Viian spoke of that. She was even a bit enthusiastic. 

Then again, this was the life she’d lived with the fae. A part of Jinsoul had always wanted to carry out the research on her own magic, as well as that of the moon. 

“What'd you find?” 

Viian smiled. It lit her entire face up. “That there’s near endless amounts of stone beneath our feet. I can differentiate between the different types and I learned that some are more easily controlled than others. I can even find minerals and draw them out!” Then she looked sheepish. “Sorry.”

Jinsoul shook her head. “I’m still interested. Go on.” She was also half-stunned at how different Viian acted when it came to this. It was a good change. 

She looked surprised. “Well, those were the primary pieces of what I can actually do. The rest was what those things taught me.” 

Jinsoul gestured for her to go on. She’d have to tell Haseul to ask Viian about her magic, even if she'd seemed a bit disillusioned about it in the beginning. This was what Viian had devoted years to finding out. Getting her to open up like this made Jinsoul feel more than a little accomplished. 

“A lot of rocks are made up of layers, but I could hardly tell why. That was when I actually went to the mortal settlements around where we were. There I’d found people who looked at rock the same way I did,” Viian smiled fondly, “I’d had to sneak into their studies then, as discussing such things with females, let alone foreigners was impossible.”

“And what do the layers tell you?” 

Viian had straightened as she’d spoken. Now she leaned forward slightly, her light pink eyes shining. “The age of stone structures. Some were attempting to find the age of the entire planet.”

Jinsoul suddenly felt very stupid. “What’s a planet?”

Viian hardly batted an eye. “A massive celestial body.” She waved a hand at the ground. “This all is curved. I can feel it, but you can sometimes see it on horizons or in the distance. And if it is always curved, at some point, one does travel so far that you return to the place you were. I’ve done it before.” 

“So it’s all held like this?” Jinsoul opened her animal skin, drew out water, and created a sphere. 

She nodded and rock spouted up from the ground. It formed oddly shaped pieces. Each piece embedded themselves in the water. 

Viian pointed at a part of it. “A planet. We're here.” She spoke as if it were the simplest thing. Then she pinched two of her fingers together, her brow furrowing as she did. A small ball of moonlight formed. It floated up to the water. “And the moon. Also round.” She met Jinsoul’s eyes. “Likely nothing I should share with other Astrans, or?”

Jinsoul shook her head. “But Yerim’d like it.” 

The ground started to tremble then. Viian looked alarmed. 

“That’s her,” Jinsoul said. “She sometimes does that.” Either when she was excited, angry, or scared. The timing was almost scary in how perfect it was. 

She listened for footsteps, only to hear stumbles and pained breaths. A cold pit formed in her stomach. 

In the distance, two glowing figures appeared, but one was far duller.

Jinsoul felt a panic begin to settle in. She got to her feet and ran. She heard Viian stumble as she also followed, caught off guard by the sudden change. 

“I’m fine,” someone called. It was the person who wasn’t glowing as she should’ve been. The moon was slowly starting to reveal itself. There should’ve been enough light for her to be glowing. 

Jinsoul reached them. 

Yerim was practically carrying Jungeun, whose skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Her eyes were dull. And when Jinsoul looked to the light she held, she saw that it some of it was still bright. Even so, there was so much darkness, too much of it around her heart. The rest spread out across her side and leg. 

“We ran out of water,” Yerim said. “Two pairs got to us on the way back. One of them when we were running from a bright one." 

On the way back from where? Jinsoul wanted to ask. Instead, she went to Jungeun’s other side. She started to walk them to the camp. 

“No,” Jungeun leaned away, “I need to tell you something.”

“I need to heal you first.” 

“We saw her,” Jungeun said. “She didn’t kill him.” 

In front of her, Viian frowned. She looked between each of them. 

Jinsoul looked in the direction of camp. She could barely hear the bustle from the camp. They wouldn’t be able to hear them either. 

“Stay here.” Jinsoul nodded at Yerim. Together, they got Jungeun down to the ground. 

In the light from Yerim, she looked for where the injuries were. There were claw marks along Jungeun’s neck, but they were faint. Even so, the lines themselves were dark and spindles of light extended away from them. 

At her waist was a worser one. It looked like a bite mark and her left leg looked as if two animals had clawed at it. 

There was no injury where the darkness would’ve gone to her heart. 

Elre had had more in her heart, but her chest had been pierced by something. What did it mean if the darkness had gone straight for Jungeun’s heart? Would it grow or could she keep it at bay? Elre hadn’t been able to. 

How could Jungeun have let it get this bad? Jinsoul wanted to ask Yerim that then and there, but the question died in her throat when she met her eyes.

Yerim looked guilty, scared, and exhausted. If Jinsoul made that any worse, she’d take long to forgive herself. 

“I’ll get what we need,” Jinsoul said. She handed her waterskin to Yerim. “And be back before you know it.” She’d need to talk to her later. Not about potions, ingredients, or spirits, but about what was happening now. Jinsoul needed to actually be there for Yerim, not just the person teaching her to master her magic. 

With that, she hurried off. She knew Jungeun had been an idiot again. She knew Jungeun would've tried to protect Yerim from the pair of spirits. She knew Jungeun had taken any blow she could’ve. 

It was always the same. 

When Jinsoul was within earshot of the camp again, she heard angry voices. 

______

Yves should’ve expected it. She should’ve held her tongue the moment they asked for search parties. 

But she hadn’t, because Hyejoo was near. Yves had just learned that mortals had died through darkness and something else. If it was Hyejoo’s doing, they couldn’t let the others find her. They’d just do what they’d done to her fifty years ago. Or worse. 

So the moment she’d told Freya that Chaewon, Jiwoo and her would be one of the five search parties, she should’ve known that Heejin would’ve heard it too. She should’ve known that she'd would assume the worst. Much of what Yves had done since that day had been met with Heejin's scrutiny and anger. Rightfully so. 

“You’re staying here,” Heejin hissed. Beside her was Haseul, who looked a lot less hostile. Behind them was Hyunjin, who only looked at Heejin with increasing concern. 

“They already said we can go.” Yves tried to keep her voice from growing quiet. “We’ll go the opposite direction you will.” Or at least, they’d see if Chaewon’s bond would still tell them something about where Hyejoo was. Just as long as she wanted to go with them. 

“You’re not going at all,” she snapped. “I don’t care if you think you’re helping or not, seeing you will just make it worse.”

Yves had no response to that. She knew they’d be lucky if Hyejoo didn’t lash out at them. She knew that Hyejoo would probably run. 

Then again, if Hyejoo left the country, or at least got far enough away, that’d still be better for Hyejoo herself. 

Instead of responding, Yves stepped away. 

Chaewon and Jiwoo took that as their cues to start walking as well. 

Heejin grabbed her arm and wrenched her back. It was such a harsh movement that Yves stumbled. 

When she righted herself, she nearly flinched at the fury burning in Heejin’s eyes. 

“If this's some twisted way you think’ll make everything better, you’re wrong." Heejin looked at each of them. “You’re not joining the people hunting her. She didn't kill anyone.”

“We know she didn’t kill them,” Chaewon said quietly. Her eyes didn’t look away from the trees. "We don't want to hurt her."

Heejin rounded on her. “You don't get to say anything,” she spat. 

Chaewon winced. Fresh tears began to form. 

If Heejin noticed, she didn’t acknowledge it. 

Yves saw that Haseul had. Her brow was furrowed. 

“What do you think’ll happen if you did find her?” the green-eyed elf asked. She shot Heejin a sharp look.

Surprisingly, the latter stayed silent, but she was still stewing. Yves saw the light within Heejin start to turn darken, tinged with anger. It made her the perfect target for spirits. 

Yves knew she couldn’t warn her. Heejin would pummel her if she did. 

She also saw that Hyunjin was looking where she was. She knew as well that the emotions were getting too much. Heejin would actually let herself be held back by Hyunjin. 

“I don’t know,” Yves admitted. “But we’re not going to hurt her or try and make her come back.” As difficult as it was, she met Heejin’s eyes. “And I know she won’t talk to us. I know that if the rest of you find her, it’ll be better." She tried not to think of that day, but she couldn't stop seeing it. She forced herself to continue. "But I also know that it’s better if we find her than if the others do.” If Teveril found her, he’d try to take her back to the elders. Hyejoo wouldn’t let that happen. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jiwoo stiffen. Then she was walking off. 

Yves looked to where she was going. Jinsoul was holding a large knapsack, almost running through the camp. The light around her was turning grey. She was worried about something. Yves had a good idea about who that was. That hadn't changed. If anything, it'd been getting worse. 

Yves found herself following. The rest were as well.

“Are they back?” she heard Jiwoo ask. 

She couldn’t help but feel hurt. Another thing Jiwoo had known before telling her. Where had Jungeun been? Who else had been with her and how had Jiwoo known about it? 

“Yes,” Jinsoul replied. “She’s hurt.” 

“Who is?” Haseul’s voice gave away the tension in her. She’d been getting more and more wound up recently. Too much was being placed on her shoulders. The same applied to Heejin. 

Jinsoul shook her head, blue eyes flickering back to camp. “Come on.” She met Yves’ eyes once. 

She recognised doubt. 

Then Jiwoo looked back. She nodded. 

It was such a small gesture, but Yves felt a burst of confidence. Even if Yves was the one becoming an elder, Jiwoo was the one whose word she trusted more than anyone else’s. No one ever realised that part of her was there, except for a handful. The rest only saw Jiwoo’s smiles and heard her optimistic words, but they never knew how swiftly Jiwoo could act, as if knowing exactly which action would work and which wouldn’t. They didn’t realise how it was Jiwoo who usually led their hunting parties. They didn’t know that it was almost always Jiwoo who knew which dark spirits were benevolent and which weren’t. 

They hurried further away from the camp. Jinsoul and Jiwoo were almost side by side as they broke into a run. 

Yves saw the newcomer, Viian, first. She was already starting to glow. Naturally, Yves hadn’t talked to her yet. She knew Haseul wouldn’t have minded, but Yeojin and Yerim would certainly have. And once she knew the story of Hyejoo, Yves was sure Viian wouldn’t ever want to look at them. 

There was a small fire laced with light. Jungeun’s magic. 

“Can the rest know?” Jinsoul asked. Her tone was gentle. She knelt down beside Jungeun. 

Yves realised then that she was injured. She saw the darkness from different wounds. Yerim had some as well, but enough light that she'd heal quickly. 

“Yeah,” Jungeun muttered. 

“What happened?” Heejin sounded less angry and more worried. 

“We went looking for her,” Jungeun said. “We,” she faltered, “I heard something in one of the towns. Yerim and I followed it.”

Her. 

“Did you find her?” Chaewon asked. 

Heejin didn’t even snap and silence her, but she did say something else. “Should they really be here?” Then she nodded at Viian. “Should she?”

The newcomer looked surprised to be mentioned. Then her brow furrowed and her gaze hardened.

“All of you should be,” Jungeun shot back. “We found her. She didn’t kill that man.” Her voice was as sharp as Heejin's had been. 

Heejin didn't respond. She looked surprised. 

“And the rest?” Haseul asked. It looked like the question pained her. 

“What rest?” Yerim asked. 

“His guards were also murdered.”

“How?” Jungeun sat up. Then she groaned. 

Jinsoul pushed her down and kept tending to the wounds. “Charred flesh. They said he didn’t look like he did.” They as in the elves who'd been passing through. Now they were going far away, unsettled by the spirits and the stories. 

“That also wasn’t her,” Yerim said. “It was a fairy. He killed them.” She looked between them, her expression uncharacteristically hard. “His magic was lightning.”

“And the darkness?” Hyunjin asked.

“You can’t think that—“ Heejin turned to her. 

“I don’t,” she said. “But why was it there?”

“It wasn’t hers,” Yerim said. “You can go there yourselves. You’ll all see the difference.” She looked at Chaewon then. Yves couldn’t read her gaze. Was it pity Yves saw or distaste? 

Either way, Chaewon looked away. It hurt to see how the mention of Hyejoo made her crumple. 

“Do you know who Alluin is?” Jungeun asked then. 

Yves shook her head at the same time that Haseul said she didn’t. 

“I do,” Hyunjin muttered. 

They all looked. 

Rarely had Yves seen the girl look small. She knew the vulnerability was there, but she’d never been close enough to her to see it like this. 

“He‘s a secret of the older elves,” she said. “Like Hyejoo.” Then she looked at Viian. 

For a moment, Yves thought she’d do what Heejin would have and send her away. 

Instead, she just said, “Hyejoo is the Olivia they've all been talking about. We don’t say her name anymore, because they cast her out.”

______

The mention of Olivia—or was it Hyejoo—had an immediate effect on the elves. All thoughts of this Alluin were gone. 

The expressions of four collapsed into guilt. This included Haseul, Gowon, Chuu, and Yves. Heejin looked angry again. Jungeun and Jinsoul only exchanged looks, their eyes sad, while Yerim's eyes were filling with tears. 

“She wasn’t just banished,” a new voice said. Someone was behind her. 

Vivi turned immediately, thinking back to when a fairy had last snuck up on her. She'd tried to kill Vivi. Vivi had gotten her first, encasing her in stone and taking her to the other fae. 

Yeojin had somehow snuck up to be beside her. She looked angry. It didn’t seem to fit her, but it was there nonetheless.

“The people she loved turned their backs on her.” She pointed at three, Chuu, Gowon and Yves. Gowon shrank away, Chuu looked down, while Yves still held her head high. Even then, she couldn't hide everything.

Heejin was still looking at Vivi with that angry edge to her gaze. If the anger was the culmination of this Olivia’s banishment, then Vivi could understand it. She didn’t know it to the degree that Olivia/Hyejoo had faced, but she'd knew enough about what a lack of acceptance meant. 

“We don’t have to go through the whole story,” Heejin said. “Just say what we need now.” 

Hyunjin raised an brow at her, but said nothing. She met Vivi’s eyes, looking apologetic. Vivi wouldn’t judge her silence yet. Except for polite conversation, they hadn’t actually spoken much. Haseul had told her the girl was mostly silent, largely because she felt she didn’t have a voice in most situations. Except for just now, where she'd admitted to knowing a man who worked in the literal shadows—an elf who'd order the deaths of mortals. 

“I think we should explain,” Haseul replied. She looked to Vivi. “You might’ve come at a mess of a time, but you’re here.” 

“No one else approves,” Heejin cut in. “The elders don’t even want her here. How can you think your words will count for anything more than what they want?” 

Jinsoul raised a hand. “Stop it. You know full well we can all hear you.”

Heejin waved her off and looked back to Vivi, meeting her eyes. Although her eyes were a pleasant colour, almost complimenting Vivi’s, they were cold. “The rest of them never thought Hyejoo belonged here. They don’t think you do either. So don’t expect me to soften that blow.”

A part of Vivi understood what she meant. A part of her still understood the anger. Surprisingly, it looked like the people who knew Heejin much better than her didn’t. 

“You won’t even try,” Hyunjin said quietly. “You’ll take the easy route now, because you can live with turning your back on her.” The yellow-eyed girl stepped forward and placed herself next to Vivi. Her eyes weren’t angry, but Vivi saw disappointment. 

Heejin recoiled. She couldn’t hide her emotions well, not how Vivi had learned to. She saw pain, but no shame. At least not yet. 

“No,” Vivi said. “She’s right.” 

Haseul looked at her, a question in her gaze. Anger still lingered, but it was quickly fading. It seemed she wasn’t the type to get angry very often. 

“I don't belong,” Vivi continued. “But I knew I wouldn't no matter where I went.” She chuckled. “You know, the fairies are no better than this, and though they let me grow up among them, all but my immediate family were convinced I did not belong.” 

Vivi took in their expressions. Jinsoul looked like she understood. She did in part, as she’d heard earlier. Haseul looked dejected, as if in disbelief that Vivi would think such a thing. Heejin still stewed below the surface, but her anger wasn’t as explosive as before. Hyunjin’s eyes were on the ground. Instead of disappointment, they now held shame. Jungeun and Yerim were listening, but they seemed too exhausted to have a proper reaction. Yeojin was still just angry. 

The rest of the girls, who seemed to be the villains to some, were avoiding the eyes of everyone else. 

“So why shouldn’t I hear this?” Give me a good reason, Vivi thought. “They’ve already started to antagonise her at every mention. Why not ensure I know the truth?” Say something to me without hatred. 

Heejin just shook her head. She couldn't do that. 

“We failed her,” Haseul said. “And before I hear anything else, you know that’s what happened.” Her green eyes were fierce. As much as she seemed to be the more mature of the rest, she also shared the anger of Heejin and Yeojin. “She didn’t have any control over light growing up. Then she developed control over darkness." Her strength faltered for a moment, revealing her pain. It nearly hurt Vivi to see it. "That was fifty years ago." 

“So you threw her out?” Vivi asked. She fought the urge to clench her fists. She gritted her teeth instead. 

“The seers saw it and the elders decided,” Yves said. “She wouldn’t have had a place here otherwise.” 

It sounded a lot as though that belief had been drilled into her, probably driven in deeper by herself. Guilt seemed to be capable of that. 

Yeojin had the same thought. “That’s a lie you tell yourself,” she retorted. 

Pain flashed in Yves’ eyes. She didn’t say anything to defend herself. 

“I think I understand,” Vivi said. 

“Understand what?” Gowon looked up, eyes half hopeful, half filled with the guilt from before. Vivi knew she’d crush the hope there and she knew that there was another side to this tale. That didn’t matter. 

She spat into the flames. The pale haired girl flinched. As did a few of the others. Vivi barely felt guilty. 

“Your people will blindly follow the moon’s judgement to push someone out,” Vivi muttered. “But you’ll question it only when you‘re told to accept someone in.” She looked back to Heejin. “And you don’t want me here, because you doubt the moon. Olivia was banished, which you feel was wrong. I’ve been brought here and you think that’s wrong as well.”

Heejin didn’t respond. Vivi knew she was right. 

“What did they tell you?” She looked to Chuu, Gowon, and Yves. “For you to have,” she nodded at Yeojin, “turned your backs on her?” 

Gowon was crying, but when she spoke, her voice was steady. “They said that darkness will always overcome someone’s heart, even if not intended. They said she was a danger to us all.” 

Never had Vivi heard someone speak with less confidence than Gowon had in that moment. She pitied the girl. 

She felt the tension rise between the rest. She saw the glares some gave Gowon. Fifty years had passed since then, but it was clear that the situation was far from being resolved. Vivi wouldn’t be able to reach any sort of conclusion there. She also didn’t want to. This sort of thing was beyond her. 

And even if they’d been in favour of her staying, Olivia had been cast out, left to deal with her own magic and the other threats out there. These people had the means to find her and they’d never looked. 

“I suppose that makes me a danger as well.” Vivi called up some rock from the ground. She let it flow through the air, a seemingly useless stream of stone. “But to your beliefs.”

No one replied. Jinsoul still worked on cleaning an ugly wound on Jungeun’s leg. Whatever love the healer felt for the injured girl, it was on full display now. Vivi didn't dwell on it.

She almost wished that Yerim and Jungeun could fully explain what had happened with Hyejoo and what they’d learned. The revelation that Hyunjin knew about someone no one else did seemed to have been forgotten. What if they were all missing some important piece to this puzzle?

“I’ll make the rest of this easier,” Vivi said. “And be on my way.” It wasn’t going to be forever. She still needed to learn how to harness her magic. She didn’t have many other places to go either. 

And she didn’t want to live her life alone. She was starting to like some of the people here. She was also starting to realise that there was more depth to them than she’d first suspected. Even Heejin, the most hateful of the ten elves, had her reasons for acting as she had. Amazingly those reasons had barely even considered Vivi’s blood, even if they were still the wrong ones. 

A hand took her arm. Its warmth was comforting. “You can’t go out alone. It’s too dangerous.” Haseul’s gaze nearly held her in place. 

“I’m not completely useless,” Vivi replied. She forced the liquid stone to become a sword. She coated the blade with moonlight, but not so much that it would glow too brightly. It’d do as an initial defence. “And I have a very good grip on my other magic.”

“Which can’t always fight what’ll go after you,” Jinsoul added. “Not that easily at least.” Her eyes flicked back to Jungeun then. 

That message was clear: this one can’t even handle it. You'd have had to have been stuck in the mountains all your life to not know the stories surrounding the fire elf. 

“Before, no,” Vivi said. “But with what little I know now, it might be enough.” 

“Key word,” Haseul stepped forward, turning Vivi around, “little.” Her green eyes were pleading. All anger from before had vanished. “You don’t know what you’ll encounter.” 

“So I should stay here and face this?” Vivi asked, nodding at the still silent Heejin. “What I see and hear is nothing I’d like to experience for the rest of my life. I should at least be able to take breaks from it.” She freed herself from Haseul’s grasp. It wasn’t difficult. “And be on my own while I do it.” 

"Just," Haseul took another step, "if you see a pale spirit and their light feels wrong, or it looks at you with anything other than curiosity, you run. There's no fighting one of those."

Vivi just nodded. Then she walked away. It was a terrible war of beliefs to have stumbled upon. Even in a group where all ten girls seemed to want to help, they were divided. And that wasn’t even counting the people who genuinely wanted to hunt someone down. 

Vivi hardly wanted to think about that. Already, she’d begun to feel pain for someone she didn’t know. 

Some people had been surprised that this Olivia was even alive. They’d lived their lives almost normally, believing she was dead after they’d cast her out. 

And now, people thought that she’d massacred a group of mortals. If Vivi had heard right, this wasn’t the first time they’d thought she'd done something terrible. 

Jungeun and Yerim had said she hadn’t killed these ones, but had she done it before? Vivi didn’t know how the darkness worked, but it seemed to swallow people up if they were struck with it. There’d been two deaths since Vivi’s arrival. She’d caught one glimpse of a victim, Elre. Her eyes had been completely black, her skin riddled with lines of the same colour, almost as if her blood had been corrupted as well. 

What happened if you were in control of that same darkness? Then again, hadn’t Heejin also told her about ‘good’ darkness? Could Olivia have both? 

Vivi hoped she was alright. She hoped there was no corruption, nor pain in this girl. Perhaps, if the Astra truly were wrong to believe the moon, the girl could still have a home. And if the moon did indeed have a plan, maybe it wasn’t so dastardly to force another from her home. If that were the case, then it was just the flawed beliefs of the Astra or it was just a horrible plan, made from an unfeeling presence in the night sky. 

Vivi wasn’t sure where she fit there. As she walked, she could only think of how much better it would be if the elves behind her could realise they wanted the same thing. Even if what those other three had done was unforgivable, their guilt and shame was obvious enough. They knew they’d done something terrible. 

The thought made her pause. She’d seen how Olivia’s absence affected each of the ten girls, from the glimpses of it she’d caught in Jinsoul and Jungeun, to the waves of emotion coming from Heejin and Yeojin. Haseul had fallen somewhere in the middle. She was far from healing. They all were.

We failed her. 

I failed her, was probably the thought that Haseul was stuck with. The green-eyed elf was probably going to take it upon herself to fix what she could. From organising search parties that’d avoid hurting Olivia, to going out there herself, either to protect the girl or to give her back the family she’d lost. 

Vivi shook her head at that. This was a heavy burden, one Vivi had never needed to bear. It was one she never wanted to have either. The person to solve those problems wouldn’t be her. Whether or not she was ready for it, Haseul was the best option for that. She'd probably be able to handle it alone. 

She kept walking, leaving behind all thoughts of the elves and whatever fate they faced now. Her focus would be on surviving these next nights by herself. Spirits would probably try and attack her, no matter how much she hoped they wouldn’t. 

Even so, she’d rather have that alone than spend the night with people who’d turned their backs on one of their own. 

Chapter Text

Note: there's a scene that describes the aftermath of a lot of violence. It's descriptive and may be unsettling, so if you're uncomfortable, feel free to skip over it. It starts with "The wood of the door melted. Yerim’s work. It was completely dark in the house." and ends with "Short pulses of rage came to her. She felt betrayed. She felt abandoned. "

______

Yeojin felt her presence before she saw her. The ground trembled slightly, while the scent of dirt and the trees became slightly more pronounced. 

It wasn’t even a surprise. Yeojin had actually been watching out for those changes. She’d known the elf would come. 

“Where’re you going?” Choerry asked. She bound over. That incessant smile was on her face. 

“I don’t have to tell you that.”

Choerry wasn’t fazed. She hardly ever was. “No, because I already know.” Her purple eyes glittered. “And neither you nor I should be doing it.”

“Then you don’t have to.” Yeojin kept walking. “But you will,” she muttered. 

Surprisingly, this wasn’t unusual. Choerry somehow knew when Yeojin was going off with Yuqi or someone else, but also when she wasn’t. It was weird.

There were times when she came along even when Yeojin wasn’t alone. On those days, they came across more spirits, both good and bad dark spirits, as well as bad bright ones. 

Other times, Choerry didn’t manage to find her when she went off by herself. And Yeojin had a more uneventful time, encountering only a handful of spirits, most of them good. 

Sometimes, Yeojin wondered if the spirits were drawn to Choerry. Others, she wondered if Choerry had some unconscious access to the future. 

Mostly, however, Yeojin thought it was because the two of them were less-than-tolerable acquaintances. She didn’t like the older girl’s smile, while the latter had a bone to pick with Yeojin’s ‘recklessness and restlessness’. 

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Choerry fell into step beside her. “Or were you planning on asking directions in terrible Korean?” 

Yeojin glared at her. “I was gonna figure it out myself.”

She shrugged. “Could’ve just asked me. We did all that work for the camp anyway.” A small smile. “It’s called efficiency.”

Fighting the urge to shove her, Yeojin kept walking. She knew the girl was right. She just hated the way she was saying it. 

But Yeojin also remembered yesterday and how Choerry’s smile had vanished completely. She almost preferred the smugness to that. Almost. 

“It’s this way.” Choerry turned them left. 

After a few seconds, Yeojin heard Choerry exhale. It wasn’t a sigh, but it also wasn’t something to dismiss. 

She dismissed it. 

Choerry didn’t make idle conversation or pull on the branches and roots to either smack her on the head, or trip her like she usually did.

Another thing Yeojin didn’t pay much mind to. 

“Why do you want to go there?” Choerry asked.

Yeojin glanced at her. Choerry was looking at the ground, a weird furrow in her brow. 

“I’ve heard enough stories,” Yeojin said. “I need to see these things for myself.”

“This was a massacre,” Choerry replied. “Something she didn’t even do. Why do you have to see that?” 

She frowned. “Did you come here to help me or bring me back?” 

“Both.” Choerry sighed. “It’s your decision, but I’m here so you don’t get lost here if you decide to go.” She waved at the forest. 

Those words bothered her. Yeojin didn’t stop to figure out why. “You didn’t even see them, you didn’t know what’d happened.” 

“I know enough,” she snapped. 

Yeojin blinked. She’d never seen Choerry get impatient or anything close to angry. 

Around them, the branches had started too curl. Even the ground felt a bit more unstable. 

“We saw him alive,” Choerry muttered. “He’d seen Hyejoo. He’d been terrified.”

“Serves him right.” Yeojin clenched her fist. If she’d been in Hyejoo’s position, she might’ve even gone through with it. 

Whether or not she agreed, Choerry didn’t show it. She just told her the detailed version of what’d happened after and how they’d seen Hyejoo. How she’d told them not to tell anyone. 

“Then why did you?” Yeojin turned to look at her. “They’re hunting her now.”

“They were looking for her anyway,” she replied. “Not one of the other girls thought it’d have been her, but they wouldn't have seen what we did. They’d have been going after someone they’d think was a threat. They wouldn’t be trying to find her—to protect her.”

Yeojin couldn’t argue with that. “And the real threat’s dead, right? She killed him.”

Choerry nodded. 

“But he’d have lived longer,” Yeojin said. “He would’ve lived even longer. And he was like her right, cast out?” Yes, he’d killed, but at least one of them had deserved it. Had this fairy deserved it?

“Mortals are powerless, Yeojin.” Choerry’s voice was almost empty, yet it still held a tremor. “And the fairy killed even more than the one he was sent for. Those men had families and lives they could’ve lived to old age.”

She bit back a retort. She knew, again, that Choerry was right. She also wasn’t smug this time. 

Yeojin didn’t really like what she saw in purple eyes now. It wasn’t exactly cold or even sad, but something in between. 

They walked in silence. Amazingly, only one spirit came their way. They turned it easily. 

Yeojin had sensed others, but they’d been good light and dark ones. 

And as she kept looking for spirits—it was too good to be true that no other spirits were coming after them—she saw something else. A person. Yellow streaked through the pale light surrounding them. 

“We’re being followed.”

Choerry nodded. “Hyunjin.” She turned around, suddenly expectant, but surprised. 

Then the light started to move faster. She was running over. 

Normally, Yeojin would’ve had it with being constantly watched over. When Hyejoo had first been banished, Yeojin hadn’t been able to go anywhere without Jungeun, Hyunjin, or Haseul coming after her. She also knew that Choerry had been kept track of just as much, only that she’d been held back by Jinsoul. There’d been something wrong with her other magic. Yeojin didn’t remember. 

She didn’t think she’d asked. 

“Gone to see it first?” Hyunjin asked. “Haseul’ll hate you being gone all this time.”

Choerry smirked. “But you’re here. Our fine protector.”

Hyunjin ruffled her hair. “I’m damage control.”

“For what damage?” Yeojin looked up at her. She didn’t like how much she had to crane her neck for that. She did that for almost everyone. 

She shrugged. “Mortal property for one,” she squinted at Choerry, “and cultural misunderstandings.” Her gaze went to Yeojin. 

Yeojin raised her hands. “No one ever told me their language had honorifics and all that.”

“Yes they did,” Choerry said. “Yuqi excels. She also doesn’t curse people out.” 

“That hag tried to cheat me.” Yeojin reached behind Hyunjin, fully intending to pinch the purple-eyed girl. 

She didn’t succeed. Choerry had already stepped out of reach. Was Yeojin that predictable?

“And the damage to each other.” Hyunjin grinned. “I’m amazed you both made it out of here without a brawl.”

They were both silent. 

“If Jinsoul knew about that,” Hyunjin began. “With all the injuries she’s healed of yours.”

“She won’t,” Choerry said hurriedly. 

Yeojin snickered. 

“And Haseul?”

“She’s used to it," Yeojin said.

Hyunjin sighed. 

“You’re saying you never tried to beat Heejin up?” Yeojin had seen the two when everything had been fine—before the bond. They’d either huddled together, shot remarks and playful jabs at each other, or both. 

“Now I do.” There wasn’t much humour there. 

Yeojin wasn’t all that oblivious to love. She just really didn’t care for it like the others her age and above did. Not yet. There also weren’t any real candidates. 

Immortality also made ‘courting’ really messy. At some point, everyone might’ve been somebody else’s ex-partner and another’s future counterpart. 

Too complicated. Unnecessary too. 

But she did know exactly what was between Heejin and Hyunjin. It was another example of messed up their world was that neither of them could be together. 

“Why’re you out here?” Choerry asked. Yeojin was half-surprised that she didn’t already know. 

“Sick of me already?” Hyunjin lifted a brow.

“Yes,” she grinned, “but I thought you were on guard.”

“Haseul let me off,” Hyunjin replied. “And training with Heejin is cut in half. The other sessions can wait.” A pause. “So babysitting was the next best thing.”

Something was missing from that explanation. 

Instead of commenting on it, Yeojin whacked her arm. Her hand just smacked against muscle. 

The taller girl laughed. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

She hit her again. That just made Hyunjin laugh harder. Choerry joined in. 

Yeojin found herself smiling. If she could get these two feeling better, then she’d have done something right. For once.

______

“You’re serious?” Jungeun tried to give Jinsoul her best glare. It was terrible. She knew that by Jinsoul’s infuriating chuckle. There was also the added fact that staring daggers at the person healing you didn’t work. Even if they were telling you everything you didn’t want to hear. 

“Your body’s exhausting itself healing both real wounds and working against the darkness.” Jinsoul gave her a stern look. “Some sicknesses need at least a week of complete rest. This’s three days. Maximum.”

“I hate it when you go full healer on me.” She sighed. She wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth there. “You know I hate this.”

Jinsoul grinned. “And that’s exactly why I can’t trust you to sit still for longer than an hour.”

She frowned at her. What was that supposed to mean?

Jinsoul winked back. “I’ll be visiting you.” Then she walked over. “Drink.” 

Jungeun drank. The water was almost too warm. She knew it was because she was too cold. 

Jinsoul began to change the bandages. She soaked the new ones in moonlight-infused water. It did wonders against how much those wounds ached. 

“You’re not using too much?” Jungeun asked. “Yoona and Yuri were hit bad today.”

“The younger ones are getting water. I’ll treat it with the light Nuala gathered.” She knelt down beside the cot. “And they’ll be fine. Just like you will.” Her deep blue eyes bordered on desperate with how much conviction was in them. 

Jungeun knew why that was. She’d heard too late that Elre had died. It’d been while Jungeun was away. She’d known how hard Jinsoul had tried to save her. And Jungeun hadn’t been there. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Jungeun took her hand. It was so much warmer to the touch. Normally, Jinsoul’s was always cool. “Too much had reached her heart. She hadn’t had enough in the first place.”

Jinsoul closed her eyes. “We could’ve had enough. If people hadn’t been going off, more could’ve been given. If there’d been more of the moon—”

“If, if, if,” she tightened her grip on her hands, “and nothing will change what happened. The moon’s coming out now and Heejin’s working on getting hunt numbers down.” 

The older elf scoffed. “We need patrols and hunting parties. They have to find the threat.” Jinsoul's sneer was countered by sad eyes. 

“I know.”

“And we’re not the ones who make those decisions.” Jinsoul sighed. Her shoulders fell. 

“But we do know people who can. They’re trying.”

Jinsoul shrugged. 

Jungeun knew that look well. She knew that Jinsoul had gone through this even before coming to the Astra. While she’d never been an elder, Jinsoul had certainly gotten a say in things as one of the main healers of her people. So much so that the responsibilities she’d gotten had overwhelmed her several times over the years. Next to the threat of conflict with other elves (usually from the sea), fairies, and other creatures, Jinsoul had been both tending to their wounds and teaching others to use their magic. 

So when she’d come here, Jinsoul hadn’t needed to bear those same responsibilities anymore. She’d hated it at first, terrified that she was leaving her people to a worser state than before. It’d started slowly, but Jungeun had been there as Jinsoul got used to the lack of responsibility. Before she’d been roped in to become a healer again, Jinsoul had even started enjoying it. 

Jungeun still remembered the first proper smile she’d gotten out of her. It’d taken time for Jinsoul to properly trust her and not just see her as the only other person who knew what she was going through. Shared experiences meant little if there wasn’t a deeper form of trust. When Jungeun had managed to get that, Jinsoul had started smiling. 

And now she’d been called upon to devote her life to healing others again—to trying everything to save them. Jungeun knew the stress from that would rise quickly. She knew that the burden had returned. 

She needed to find a way she could help. 

“What can we do?” Jungeun asked. 

Jinsoul’s eyes widened. “We?” She said the word as if it was something precious—as if she’d not said it in years. 

Jungeun felt guilty. 

“You, me, and Yerim.” She squeezed her hand. “When you finally let me walk, we’ll do exactly what we used to.” 

“You’ll wait for me?” Jinsoul’s eyes sparkled more than usual. 

Jungeun had trouble not looking into them. “I’ll wait.”

“And I’ll hold you to that.” Jinsoul smiled. 

Jungeun felt her chest swell at the sight. The ache there subsided. She was always happy when she got Jinsoul to smile. She hadn’t been doing that lately. Now she would. 

______

Nearing the house, Hyunjin caught hold of both girls’ arms. This was the main reason she was here. She'd planned to go the next day, but as soon as she realised that Yeojin and Yerim had gone, she cancelled that plan. 

Now that she was seeing it, now that she could feel the violence that still clung to the house, she needed to try and turn them away. Already, she knew it probably wasn’t going to work. 

“This isn’t like seeing one body and having that as your impactful life experience,” Hyunjin said. “Even if there’s not that much blood or outright gore, this was a slaughter.”

She remembered going after a rogue vampire coven. Their feeding grounds had been a village and there'd been survivors when she'd got there. That’d almost made it worse. 

“I can do it,” Yeojin said, while Yerim nodded. 

Hyunjin had expected that too. 

“I know,” she replied. “But if you don’t want it to haunt you, you’d stay out.” She'd once been given that same warning. Hyunjin hadn’t taken it seriously. She still wished that she had. 

And now, seeing the defiance in orange and purple eyes, she knew her words hadn’t made a difference. 

“It’s not a test of your strength,” Hyunjin whispered. “I’ve seen things like this, but it doesn’t mean I’m strong. There’re people who haven’t and they’re twice the person I am.” Immediately, she thought of Heejin. 

“And then there’re people like Priad who’ll talk about this place as if he’s seen it,” Yeojin said. “He’ll be blaming Hyejoo for it without having even felt what’s around here.” She looked at the house. Thankfully, she looked a bit more hesitant than before. “I’ll have seen it and then I can make sure people know they’re wrong.” 

The darkness within the house was unmistakable. While a lot of spirits just had more darkness and that made them harder to fight, others had the darkness that came with death and murder. That took even more light to turn and the wounds they left were difficult to heal. Elre had been one of those attacked by one. 

And she’d died. 

So now Hyunjin waited for that darkness to scare these two away. She waited to spot the doubt. Yeojin either held it down, or she was absolutely convinced of what she’d just said. 

Hyunjin was proud. She was also sad to see that Yeojin’s conviction had to be shown when it came to brutality like this. 

Yerim looked equally resolute, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. 

Hyunjin nodded. Then she let them go. 

The wood of the door melted. Yerim’s work. It was completely dark in the house. 

Hyunjin went in first. The cold flooded her. Her stomach twisted at the feeling of the darkness. It already tried to creep over to her. She called on her light to fight it. It illuminated the scene before them. 

Hyunjin saw the first body. Down its front the cloth was charred, revealing blackened flesh. His face wasn’t recognisable. The skin upon it might’ve been melted or torn off. Hyunjin looked away before she could figure it out. 

The smell reached her in the next moment. She covered her nose. Her eyes began to burn. 

Yerim gasped. Yeojin gagged. 

It kept going. The guards had charged into the house, either alerted by the house’s owner or their friends. They’d rushed in only to be cut down in the next second. 

Swords had been melted. Hyunjin chose to focus on the deformed metal as she walked through the carnage. 

“I know that one,” Yerim whispered. “He told us about what happened. He’d helped us.”

The man was young. His eyes were wide. The fairy’s magic had been lightning. It’d pierced through his chest, leaving a gaping wound, its edges completely scorched. 

Hyunjin looked away. Only now did she notice how cold the house was. There was so much darkness. She didn’t know what they were looking for. She had no idea where the target would be. The fairy had branded them all as one. 

“This way.” Yerim stepped over the mortal she’d pointed out. She went straight for a door further down the hall. 

She didn’t open it. 

Hyunjin reached her and knew why. There was both the darkness of death and fear as before, but another feeling had joined it. There was anger, one that churned slowly in the mind. It was a cold sort of fury. 

Yeojin was on her other side. She was the one who opened the door. 

The smell that greeted them was sweet, as though a bakery had made something with the dark sweet that the mortals ate—was it chocolate? 

That scent was joined with rot. 

Then she saw him. Hyunjin suddenly hated how their skin was able to illuminate a room to the extent that it did. 

He was slumped against the wall. A large smear of black blood was left above him. There were dark lines all across his skin. His eyes were open. They were completely black. His jaw was slack. He seemed to look at them through empty eyes. His clothes had been soaked completely with black blood. It’d dried now. 

In front of him, there lay a deformed black lump. Two actually. Whatever it’d been before, it was torn in half. 

Hyunjin looked back at the man. Through the ruined clothes, she realised that a portion of his chest was missing. She was glad that the sight was black from blood and darkness. Had she seen the decay there, she would’ve been pushed past her limit. 

“He tore out his heart,” Yerim said. 

Yeojin retched. 

Hyunjin turned to help her out of the house, but Yerim beat her to it. 

“This’s enough now,” Yerim said. “Isn’t it?” 

Yeojin nodded. Her eyes were watering, but Hyunjin knew she’d already been crying. 

Once Haseul knew where they’d been—what they’d seen, she’d be devastated. As would Jinsoul and Jungeun. Hyunjin didn’t even want to think of what the elders would think.

The wall of the house parted. The two started walking towards it, their steps hurried. They were glad to be leaving. So was Hyunjin. 

“Go to a tavern, or explore their nightly market,” Hyunjin told them. “But eat and drink something warm. No matter the cost.” She tossed them a small bag of money. 

Yerim frowned. “And you?” Her eyes kept going to the dead mortal. Had she been able to handle this from the start or was she just that good at hiding it? Hyunjin didn’t like what that meant either. 

Some of the older elves talked about watching people grow up with smiles on their faces, cherishing how immortality allowed a person to grow. And yet other elves warned of other changes, ones that brought sadness and a heavier maturity. 

Hyunjin now knew well what they'd spoken of. 

“I,” Hyunjin began, “I’ll need some time.”

Thankfully, Yerim just nodded. Then she left. The wall reformed, the wood looking as if it hadn’t been disturbed in the first place. 

Hyunjin took a deep breath. The air was revolting. There was burnt and rotting flesh and then there was the strangely sweet scent. 

Still, she needed to breathe. She felt the anger and pain each time. Anyone who came in now, be they immortal or mortal, would feel this deep sense of wrong. The darkness would lunge for their exposed hearts. It’d haunt them for years on end. Not even the families of the dead would be able to enter the house to retrieve the bodies. 

Unless the darkness was gone. 

Hyunjin drew on even more light. She let it fill the room. She forced it towards the broken black heart and into the man’s body. The light destroyed much of the darkness. Some of it fled across the floor. Some of it went straight for her. 

Hyunjin turned away from the man, no longer full of darkness, but still dead. 

She did the same for the rest of the house. The cold had numbed her fingers. The darkness was drawn to her. It would come no matter what she did. 

Short pulses of rage came to her and the emotion only grew. She felt betrayed. She felt abandoned. 

This was the Alluin her parents had defended. This was what had festered in him since the Astra had thrown him out. They’d turned away because of the very magic that was trying to work its way into her now. 

Hyunjin knew why they’d been afraid of him. She knew why they were meant to fear the dark. If it was used like this, it had to be evil. 

But it’d only been used like this because he’d been banished. 

And Hyejoo didn’t do this, she thought. Hyejoo had had the choice and she’d chosen not to kill. Had that led to more death? Yes, but not by Hyejoo’s hand or even her wish. The fairy had done this. He’d wanted to kill them all. Alluin had sent him here. 

Hyunjin had to remember that. Yeojin was right: few would remember, or even experience this for themselves. No one else was coming to the site of the murders. Some didn’t, because they didn’t want to subject themselves to seeing something so horrific, which Hyunjin more than understood. 

Others didn’t want what was happening to Hyunjin now. She also wished she didn’t have to go through with it. Even though it needed to be done, few wanted to get rid of the darkness themselves. A piece of it always managed to survive the light. It always managed to reach you. It always tried to corrupt you as it did a bright spirit. 

And those wounds always took time to heal. They took time and more light. 

Hyunjin closed her eyes. She kept destroying the darkness. She kept absorbing what survived. When they got back, everyone would see what she held. They’d know she’d cleared the house of its horror. Either the elders or soon-to-be elders would contact the fae. They’d make the people forget the worst of the details. 

Lost in her thoughts, Hyunjin lost her grip on her magic. Either the light she had within her wasn’t enough, or the darkness was too great. 

It surged towards her. 

Hyunjin didn’t move. She knew she couldn’t dodge what came at her. So she summoned more light. It tugged at her heart and her head, but she kept taking out light. Even if it didn’t pierce your skin, the darkness could still cause wounds that could kill you. 

She forced the light to eat away at what it could. Some still came to her.

A cold ache had started to settle into her body. 

Hyunjin tried to summon more. A spike of pain pierced her head. 

More darkness came. 

Then it stopped. 

A soft glow had come into the room. It wasn’t Hyunjin’s light, or Yerim’s or Yeojin’s. 

It was a yellow cat. It was quickly turning black. Its paws were on the ground in front of Hyunjin. The spindles of darkness were all flowing towards it. 

Hyunjin didn’t think then. She grabbed the cat and lifted it up. Its warmth was leaving it, but it was soft to the touch. 

It meowed and looked up at her. Its eyes were a startlingly bright shade of pink. 

Hyunjin realised then that its head was still yellow. Along its body were patches of black. They didn’t move to overcome the entire spirit. 

The rest of the darkness moved away from the two of them. 

It flowed into another person at the door. Yerim. 

She hissed when it came to her, but her eyes were wide as she looked at Hyunjin. 

“Are you alright?” Yerim sounded out of breath. “You said you needed a moment, but that was an hour ago. Then I saw—” She cut off. “What happened?” 

Hyunjin looked from her and back to the cat. It still stared at her with those pink eyes. 

“I think,” Hyunjin frowned, “it saved me?”

The cat replied, “aeong.” 

“Was that a yes?” Yeojin was frowning. She looked worried, but leagues better than earlier. 

An hour ago, according to Yerim. Had it really been that long? Being exposed for a few minutes wasn’t good. Had Hyunjin fainted? Or completely lost track of time?

She didn’t know, only that she was awake now. The ache hadn’t faded, but she didn’t feel as if the darkness had overcome her completely. She felt cold, but not lost. She felt angry, but not enraged. That had to mean something good. 

And then there was the spirit that’d saved her. 

She set it down. It trotted over to Yerim. 

Hyunjin followed. 

“Are you really okay?” Yeojin asked. Her brow was furrowed. “If we’d have known what you were trying to do, we’d—” 

“It’s done,” Hyunjin said. “And it’s not that bad.” She flexed her hands. “Just needs some time and light, then I’ll be good as new.” 

They both nodded. Then their attention went to the cat. 

Hyunjin walked with them. She was quickly starting to feel tired. The ache was still there. Hopefully, when the next full moon came, Hyunjin would be able to start healing properly.

That was when her legs gave out. The world turned black. For a moment, Hyunjin thought the darkness had crossed some threshold. 

Before her face met the earth, she realised it was the exhaustion taking hold of her. 

______

Choerry watched the ground for paths that’d cross theirs. She only found those of raindrops. 

She practiced tuning them out. It was much like looking at a tree and not focusing on the individual leaves. 

At first, she’d gotten the worst headaches trying to sift through the paths. Jinsoul had barely managed to temper them, only really succeeding with elixirs. 

She thought of Jinsoul’s desperation when she hadn’t known what else to do. Choerry still felt guilty for that. With all that was happening (and had happened), she should've told her. She needed to tell her. Too many questions were coming up that she couldn't answer without the truth. And though Jungeun would never tell anyone unless allowed to, Choerry knew she hated to lie to Jinsoul. 

Even though she’d made up her mind about telling the truth, Choerry was scared. Not only was she going to admit to Jinsoul that she’d been lying to her for years, but she was also going to admit that she could see the future. 

Jinsoul was someone who’d always found seers unnerving (Choerry had, and still did, even after becoming one). If a seer told her that someone’s light had faded and they’d be dead the next day, Jinsoul would give that person even more light in order to change their fate. There’d been a few times when she had been able to save them. 

And it was because seers acted like their word over someone's fate was final that Jinsoul had started hating them. 

Choerry was almost fully certain that Jinsoul would look past that for her, just as Jungeun had, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t terrified of having that conversation. 

She closed her eyes. She’d known that man would die. She hadn’t realised that the guards had also been at risk. Had it just been a spur-of-the-moment decision? 

Choerry wondered what she could’ve done. Had she made Jungeun stay, could they have protected those mortals? Could they have fought the fairy and his lightning? Choerry knew she wouldn’t have been able to do it alone, but Jungeun was one of the most skilled fighters she knew. Together, she knew they could’ve done it. 

Then again, they might've been struck with more darkness. Choerry or Jungeun might’ve ended up like Elre, with Jinsoul trying everything to save them. If Jinsoul had tried and failed to save Jungeun, Choerry wasn’t sure what would’ve happened. Jinsoul was able to hide it well, but she always worried for the two of them when they went on patrol. She worried because Choerry wasn’t yet so experienced and Jungeun was still too reckless. She worried because that combination could lead to them never coming back again, or coming back broken. 

And if they’d stayed to protect the mortals, the two of them could’ve very well never come back. Were the lives of those mortals really worth sacrificing themselves? If Choerry had actually known how the man would’ve died, how others would have died with him, would she have actually stayed behind? 

The answer was no. Jungeun would’ve stayed. She would’ve firmly believed that they could’ve saved those men and she would’ve wanted to. 

Choerry wasn’t even sure if she’d have been the same. If it had been just the man at stake, she’d have left him. For her, it had just been the man. The guards hadn’t had any dark paths in front of them. If only she'd known they’d been at risk—

She grit her teeth. She hadn’t stayed behind. She hadn’t known that the other guards were going to die. She hadn’t even known that the fairy was coming. 

Hyunjin stirred then. She whimpered, but kept sleeping. Her brow was furrowed. A nightmare?

Yerim and Yeojin had tried to take the darkness away, but it hadn’t worked. Even giving her light hadn’t done much. The darkness had buried itself in her. 

At one point, Choerry had stopped them. It’d earned her a glare from Yeojin. 

“We have to help her. She’s still freezing.”

“We still have a while to go,” Choerry had told her. “If we don’t have enough, it won’t matter if she’s warm enough or not.”

Yeojin had stared at her. She’d looked stunned. 

Choerry grimaced thinking about it. She didn’t like how she’d sounded either, but they needed to get back with at least one of them in good condition. They needed to get back with all of them alive. 

The cat spirit had laid down beside Hyunjin. It hadn't left them yet.

Between the two was a bond of white and dark grey. Choerry couldn’t help but think of Hypnos then. There was a bond between them as well, but it was just grey. 

What light remained in the cat matched Hyunjin’s eyes. Except for the spirit’s own eyes. They were distinctly bright pink. What did those two things mean? And what of the cat being partially turned? 

“It's cute,” Yeojin said. 

Choerry hummed. 

They were quiet again. Choerry watched an insect fly along its path. There was no divergence to do a fancy dive or even turn off south or west. It just did as it was supposed to. Its path was dark a way’s away from them. A bird probably awaited the insect. 

“Wanna talk about it?”

Choerry looked up. Yeojin looked back at her, her brow furrowed. 

That was weird. Yeojin could care less about her and what she thought, let alone felt. Not once had they ever talked about Hyejoo. Even though the two of them were the perfect ones to talk about it with each other. 

“Why?”

Yeojin shrugged. Of course. “Normally, you’d be talking my ears off by now.” 

“I’m tired.”

“That never stopped you before.” There was no bite to that statement. Yeojin just started looking into the fire. Her eyes matched it. 

Choerry swallowed her next words. She knew it’d have been too harsh. The other girl had seen exactly what she had. She was as shaken and disgusted as Choerry was by what’d happened, but she was sure Yeojin wasn’t thinking about how she could’ve saved them—and had decided not to. 

But what they probably did have in common was that they both regretted being stubborn enough to see the bodies in the first place. 

And if Choerry knew anything about Yeojin, it was that she avoided talking about this sort of thing. She wanted her to speak because her own thoughts had gotten too loud. 

“I have a spirit who follows me too.” 

Yeojin straightened. Some of her troubled expression faded. 

Choerry tugged at the bond. Hypnos was usually near, but he avoided Astrans. Of course he did. Their magic burned him. 

“He’s called Hypnos. He’s a dark spirit.” 

“He?” 

Choerry didn’t know how to answer that. 

Thankfully, Yeojin did it for her. “You just knew?”

She nodded. 

There was the sound of wings flapping. Then rustling leaves. 

The cat stood and hissed. 

Hypnos dropped down at Choerry’s side. He stumbled. Then his eyes locked on Yeojin. He looked wary. 

“It’s alright,” Choerry patted his head, “it’s safe.”

“What is that?” Hyunjin mumbled. 

“Choerry’s friend,” Yeojin replied. Then she chuckled. “Cool.”

The cat hadn’t fled, nor had it attacked. It’d sat down. Now it watched Hypnos with its odd eyes. Choerry thought of Heejin when she saw them. 

She didn’t mention that. Hyunjin had most likely already noticed. Choerry also didn’t feel like bring that complicated topic up. 

The two of them helped Hyunjin sit up. She was stronger than earlier, but still weak. She kept saying that she just needed time. Choerry hoped desperately that she was right. 

Hyunjin had always helped her with combat when Jungeun was away (which was a lot). She was both patient and insistent. 

Choerry couldn’t bear to see how little light Hyunjin’s path held. She could only hope that the path would finally brighten when they got back. She knew she’d do anything to make that happen. 

“How long?” Yeojin asked. 

Choerry was relieved to see the girl actually looking curious. She was at least taking Yeojin’s thoughts away from that house. 

“Forty years,” she replied. “At least.” He’d come after Hyejoo had been cast out. Choerry didn’t say fifty years. She didn’t want that connection to be made. 

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Hyunjin inched closer. “He’s cute.”

Surprisingly, Hypnos didn’t back away. Even so, Hyunjin didn’t touch him. Choerry was grateful for that. She still wasn’t sure if full Astrans could touch a spirit without hurting it—even if that spirit wasn’t aggressive. 

Why didn’t you tell us sooner? Choerry knew that same question would be in Jinsoul’s mind soon. If Chuu ever opened up, it’d be on Yves and Gowon’s as well. 

“I didn’t know if he’d like Astra.” And she’d lumped him in with secrets she’d keep. Jungeun and Jinsoul knew about him. He’d followed her on one of their rare patrols. Jinsoul loved him. Jungeun didn’t show it, but she’d slowly started to like his presence. 

He hadn’t come with them on the way to Hyejoo. Choerry still didn’t know why. 

Yeojin frowned. “You’re Astra. Even if you weren’t born it.”

Not the person Choerry expected to hear reassurance from. She also hadn’t expected her to comment on Choerry’s word-choice. 

She just nodded. She was technically Astra, but it’d be a stretch to say she felt like one as well. 

“If you want, you can tell Viian about him?” Hyunjin said. “I don’t think she’s seen a benevolent dark one yet and it’d probably get the questions going.”

Choerry smiled. The fae curiosity, as infuriating as it could be, usually seemed to make them happy once it was fed. She’d definitely introduce her to Hypnos. Maybe Viian would end up figuring something out that the rest of them couldn’t, or she’d pick up on something they’d been ignoring. Or she’d help with protecting dark spirits like Hypnos. 

Viian was starting to open up, but all that progress seemed to have gone out of the window when she heard about Hyejoo. 

A part of her was relieved that Viian had been so outraged. It showed where her principles lay. And it showed that she didn’t believe in what the Astra did. 

“Sometimes I wish they talked.” Hyunjin rubbed a spot behind the cat’s ears. It actually began to purr. “It’d answer so many questions.”

“Until the others start taunting you,” Yeojin said. “Or they get to smart that they set a trap.”

“Key word was sometimes,” Hyunjin chuckled, “but I see your point.”

“How’re you feeling?” Choerry asked. Jinsoul would’ve asked that the moment Hyunjin woke up. 

She shrugged. “Not that exhausted. I think we can start going. After we eat.” 

And so they ate. Of the three, Yeojin cooked the best. She’d also brought a lot of food. 

“Were you planning on eating twice your weight?” Hyunjin asked as she handed over what she’d brought. 

Yeojin didn’t reply immediately. Her mouth was set in a line. 

“Did you know you’d get lost?” Choerry poked her side. 

She twisted away. She glared at her. “I knew I’d have company.”

Surprisingly, her eyes held Choerry’s gaze. Then they went back to the food on the fire. 

When Choerry looked to Hyunjin, the girl was grinning, her sharper teeth shining in the firelight. 

She looked away, trying not to dwell on how her face warmed, despite having been warmed by the fire. 

They had a meal that changed from silence, to light conversation about everything but current events, and more silence. 

Unsurprisingly, Yeojin had cooked a delicious meal out of what they’d brought. 

“What do you think,” Hyunjin leaned back, “a day’s walk?”

“Less if we hurry,” Choerry said. 

She grinned. She looked a lot healthier. The light still hadn’t come back, but at least she wasn’t as drained as before. 

“So let’s hurry.” Yeojin got to her feet. 

Choerry let the ground smother what was left of the fire. She could pack the dirt so tightly that it was almost like soft stone. It could certainly hurt if tossed at someone. 

Hours of walking followed. They attracted a few dark spirits. They took each of them down. 

Then the day came. Hyunjin and Yeojin became tired the moment they saw the sky lighten. Choerry felt the urge to sleep as well, but not as strongly. 

“Didn’t you get used to the day with Hyojung?” Choerry asked. 

Hyunjin huffed. “Being out at this time was rare.”

“It’s late morning.” 

“Sunrise is way too late,” she grumbled. “Everything that follows is even worse.”

They kept walking. It was late afternoon when the silence broke. Bright spirits had already started to emerge. Most of them were good. They steered clear of those that were questionable. You couldn’t fight bright spirits, but they could easily kill you. 

“What did you actually do after you left?” Yeojin asked. “Out there?”

Choerry tried not to look too interested. She only knew the smaller details that Hyunjin had told them. She still wasn’t sure if those years away had been good ones. All Choerry knew was that Hyunjin had come back enjoying life a bit less than she once had. Instead of sneaking out with Yeojin, Hyejoo, and Choerry, she’d been the one to either silently follow and step in if a spirit came along, or she’d tell them to come back. 

In the house, she’d seen how the carnage had pained Hyunjin, but she’d stayed in the house when Yeojin and Choerry hadn’t been able to. She’d taken the darkness for herself, nearly been overcome in the process, and was now leading their group. 

Something about that time away had hardened Hyunjin. Choerry still didn’t know what that was. She wanted to ask her, but she knew the mention of it could bring back unwanted memories. It was the same with Jungeun. Choerry knew what she did about her, because Jungeun had almost always been ready to tell her. Hyunjin wasn’t, but it might've had a good reason. 

“Did things like that,” Hyunjin nodded behind them, “going to places where mortals were most afraid, or just tracking down the creatures aiming to hurt them.”

“And spirits.”

“And spirits,” she nodded, “but we dealt more with vampires and wolves.” 

“Did you kill the wolves?” Choerry felt some discomfort. She knew from Jungeun and their occasional trips in the past about how to handle a wolf. Werewolves became more or less mindless in during the first years of their transformations. They just attacked, no matter if the person themselves was aggressive or the most peaceful of all. Choerry pitied them.

Hyunjin shook her head. “Not usually. We got them tied down. The light made things better.” A shrug. “Apparently that craze they have is from a huge amount of anger. We gave them chains of light against it.”

“Their anger?” Choerry asked. “Or drawn in?” Some called it lunacy. Most rejected that the moon could cause something as terrible as a werewolf rampage, so they’d concluded that werewolves were dark creatures who couldn’t tolerate the full power of the moon. What if it was actually the moon that caused it?

A small smile appeared. “I never asked, but you can if we ever see the stiffs again.”

Emotional fae would know. Of course. The few Choerry had met had either been terrible at hiding their facial expressions, or too good at it. And they always talked about emotions in the weirdest of ways. Anger was hot, while fear was freezing. They also all had colours attached to them. 

Those fae also never looked you in the eye. They were always looking into your emotions. Just like mental fae always looked into your mind and seers always looked into your future. 

“Was it worth going?” Choerry asked. 

Hyunjin nodded. “I learned a lot.”

She knew that. It wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. “Were you happy out there?” 

No response. 

Yeojin met Choerry’s eyes once. “Didn’t you want the adventure?” Her deep voice was softer now. No anger there. It suited Yeojin more than the constant scowl and venom did. 

Hyunjin shook her head. “I wanted an escape.”

From what, neither of them asked. They didn’t need to know either. 

“They actually knew who Alluin was,” Hyunjin said then. “They were younger at the time. Your ages, maybe less.” The corners of her lip tugged up. “But they ignored the connection with my family. Actually told me what they knew.”

“Was he the type to get people slaughtered?” Yeojin asked. The bite was back in her voice. 

“He was angry,” Hyunjin said. “Went to witches and fairies a lot, learning the other magic because he didn’t have the light.”

“What did he do?” Choerry couldn’t help but wonder why Hyunjin’s parents hadn’t told her, but Hyojung’s group had. She barely knew them, having only seen glimpses when they’d returned with news or other gifts. 

“Patrol and combat,” she replied. “There was a lot if it then.”

“And when the other magic came?” Yeojin’s jaw had clenched. 

“They didn’t know exactly. There'd been a fight with other elves. They hadn't been there.” Hyunjin looked at the sky, squinting in the sunlight. “But it’d come then. He’d used it and then he’d never come back.” She let out a long sigh. “I think my parents had been there. They’d never talked about it. I just know that he came the best kept secret of all Astra.”

Choerry thought of a blackened corpse. She thought of his heart, torn in two. Alluin hadn’t done it, but he’d given the blade. He took in people capable of killing with relish. People willing to cut the short lives of mortals even shorter. 

But he also took in people like Hyejoo. 

I didn’t need to stay. 

He hadn’t given her a home. 

And he’d sent her to kill someone too, Choerry thought. 

“Not anymore,” Yeojin said. “We’ll tell them who he was.”

“No,” Hyunjin said. 

Orange eyes widened. “But look what happened to you—”

“Exactly. Look what happened.” Hyunjin scowled. “They did all that for something most of us didn’t even know happened.” Her pace quickened. “We were against Hyejoo going and they did nothing like they had then. What if they do here?”

“Let them!” Yeojin threw up her hands. The light in her darkened further. “They have to know it wasn’t Hyejoo. He’s out there. They can find him and—”

“And kill him?” Choerry asked. “Or put him in bars like they did her?” What if they already had? 

“I,” Yeojin started. Nothing else came out. 

“Think about what’s coming,” Hyunjin said. “Years of life. A lot of them. You do something and you’ll never have a say in what happens in any of them. Not in how things work and not in how we think either.”

“But Haseul—”

“Is selfless, leads well, and will stand her ground. They respect her.”

“You do that too,” Choerry said.

Hyunjin blinked. The shock softened the darkness that’d been starting to grow in her. “I wasn’t chosen to be an elder. And they don’t say it, but they need her.” Her eyes fell. She deflated, her shoulders sinking. 

Choerry knew what she was thinking. 

They don’t need me.

She went back over Hyunjin’s outburst. She’d never spoken this much. She’d never sharpened her voice either. The dejection had always been there, so had the frustration, but the anger wasn’t like her. Not completely. 

Hyunjin had lost more light. It was just grey now. 

“People need you.” Choerry took her hand. It was freezing. “Yeojin and I’d be lost without you.” Maybe not in this moment, but they’d needed her at the house. They’d needed her when they went off alone. They’d needed her training. “The others need you too.” 

“No they don’t,” she muttered. 

Choerry immediately thought of a girl Hyunjin had left behind. The light in Heejin’s eyes had faded when Hyunjin had gone. The occasional singing at meals and periodic wanderings Heejin had done between fire pits had also stopped. Choerry didn’t know what Heejin had been doing in the time she left, only that it’d taken up every free second she’d had. 

She was about to tell Hyunjin that when Yeojin’s light darkened to a shade below silver. Hyunjin’s vanished completely. 

A sick feeling came over her. It was warm, but the type that came out when it was too humid. 

“Run,” Choerry told them. “Run!” She pushed them off the path they were taking. 

Both ran without question. 

The sun had set. 

The twisted path reformed. Hyunjin hadn’t reclaimed her light. She was dying. 

The exact wrong feeling came over her: panic. 

Corrupted bright spirits loved that. Just like malevolent dark spirits, they were drawn to people who felt anger, fear or any sort of devastation. The emotion had to be strong enough for a spirit to risk showing itself and giving chase. 

Choerry found a second of clarity through her panic. She could use this. Hyunjin was always calm in this situation. Despite the darkness in her heart, she was now. Yeojin was just confused. They wouldn’t attract the spirit, at least not immediately. 

“Don’t follow me,” Choerry said. 

Then she ran from the path. She let her fear come. She thought of how afraid she was for Hyunjin’s life. She thought of how terrified she was that Yeojin would get hurt here. 

Neither of them followed. 

So Choerry let other feelings come. She thought of Hyejoo and how she’d felt when the girl had said she wasn’t coming back. She thought of telling Jinsoul the truth and the dread and guilt that came with that.

She saw her own path dim. Hyunjin's light returned. Yeojin’s brightened. 

Choerry ran faster. She drew on the hatred that’d been brewing for the Astra ever since Hyejoo had been banished. She called on the hatred she felt for the moon for giving her not only light, but also her sight. She let all of it flow.  If she could save Yeojin and Hyunjin, those emotions had to be felt to their fullest. 

She heard hissing behind her. 

More fear came and she let it come. She was afraid of her path disappearing. She was afraid of dying. 

Her path was the colour of coal. 

Choerry kept running. 

Chapter Text

Jiwoo gasped. Her eyes were fixed on the distance. She was seeing something neither of them could. 

“What is it?” Sooyoung had stopped immediately. Her hands rose just in front of her, but they fell before they could reach Jiwoo. 

“We have to get back.” Jiwoo scanned the space in front of her. Tears had begun to fill her eyes. 

“Why?” 

Jiwoo shook her head. Then she turned. 

“Jiwoo,” Sooyoung caught her hand, “we’ll go, but you need to tell us why.” 

“Just,” Jiwoo pulled her hand away, “we need to go.”

Gowon tried to help before Sooyoung started looking completely dejected. “Tell us something."

How many times had Jiwoo made decisions without them questioning it? When she’d turned a certain direction on a hunt or patrol, they followed her. When she told them they had to get going in the middle of the day, they followed. Neither of them had ever asked why. Maybe that had been a mistake. 

“There’s too much,” Jiwoo looked back at where she’d looked, “there’s darkness and I don’t know where it’s coming from. Only that it's around Yerim.” She started to run back. “Trust me." 

Gowon swore she heard Sooyoung mutter, “I always do.”

Jiwoo gave no sign that she’d heard it. 

______

Olivia dreamed of green eyes filling with darkness. She dreamed of screams for mercy and a deep cold erupting within her. In her dream, she enjoyed every second of it. 

When she woke, the air was filled with panic. Someone else’s. Then she felt the disgust that always came with bright spirits, but this one even more. It was one that attacked even Astra. There were free of them. They were chasing something. She could feel their hunger. 

Olivia scrambled out of the cave. It was early evening. 

She landed on the ground, stumbling as she landed, before setting off at a run. 

Even though her magic lay with the darkness, she was still able to see the light of others. Even before she’d actually gotten her magic, she’d been able to. Maybe that was her only connection to the moon. 

She found the spirits. One was close to its target. The other two were closer to Olivia. Further away from the person they chased. 

And Olivia had seen that it was a person. Purple was threaded through their light, but there was a lot of darkness radiating out from them. She could see that from here. 

Olivia ran harder. She wouldn’t be able to catch the spirits. 

What was Yerim doing here? And why was she feeling all of that fear, anger, and pain? Where was it all coming from? 

She didn’t know how long she ran, nor how far away the spirits or Yerim were. Only that they’d been close enough for her to sense them and close enough for her to step in. 

She saw the spirit of a horse first. It was a vibrant orange. It might’ve been beautiful, had the air around it not been corrupted. 

The shadows of a crop of trees shot up in a tall black wall. The horse whinnied as it veered away. It started to run away, but she’d slowed it. That’d be enough. 

Olivia threw a blade of darkness. It hit its flank. A short and high sound left it, but it ran even faster. 

She leapt through the air, her hands covered in shadow. She sank another dagger into its hind leg. She clung on for dear life as it kept running, stumbling as it did. 

Her feet caught on the ground and what parts of her did come into contact with the horse burned. Their light always made her feel sick. 

She summoned another piece of darkness and drove it into the horse’s spine. 

Now she felled it. It toppled over, taking her with it. Her back hit the ground, hard. The rest of the horse nearly crushed her, but it rolled away just as quickly. 

Catching her breath, she heaved herself to her feet. 

The horse writhed around, its entire lower half the colour of the setting sun. 

Olivia drew on shadows as she would a breath. A large wave of them pulled away from the ground and the trees. A large stake of darkness impaled the horse to the ground. The strangled screech that left it made Olivia turn away. 

It would turn soon. She told herself that it would stop attacking others. She told herself that what she’d done was right for it. 

Then she ran to take the next one. Another bright spirit had already reached Yerim. 

She nearly stopped running. She was too late. 

No, Olivia thought. Yerim could handle herself. And she’d had years to learn even more. She’d learned how to fight. She’d learned how to run away when she could. 

Olivia kept running. She’d take down the other spirit so it wouldn’t join. 

She could only hope Yerim could flee in time. 

______

The curtains parted and in came a dishevelled Chuu. 

“Where are they?” she gasped. Her eyes were wide. Her light was sickly white with terror. 

“Where’re who?” Haseul asked. 

“Yerim, Y-Yeojin, and Hyunjin.” She looked between her and Heejin. “I-I can’t find them and-and,” she stammered. Then she squeezed her eyes shut before opening them again. “Please come with me.”

“Why,” Heejin began, words already poised for a fight. 

“We’ll go.” Haseul briefly looked to where Yves stood. She was also out of breath, her brow furrowed. She looked like she didn’t know why they’d run back from wherever they’d come. 

Chuu’s entire body relaxed as she turned. 

“You want us with you?” Lisa asked. 

Haseul shook her head. Chuu had never come to her for anything. She’d never looked desperate or terrified in front of her either.

“If you can reach Hyojung, tell her to look out for them.” That group could handle almost any situation, from vampires to rabid spirits. If they'd reach them in time, they could handle whatever had scared Chuu so much. 

They walked briskly through camp. Some stopped what they were doing to look. Their groups had never been seen together without some sort of argument breaking out—or absolute silence shared between them. Of course them simply walking together would garner attention. 

Chuu took them straight to the forest. None of them spoke. 

Haseul caught her looking to the side and then at the ground. Her eyes were almost mad with worry. 

Then Chuu stopped suddenly. “Where could Yeojin have gone?” 

“Why just her?” Heejin crossed her arms. 

“Answer me,” Chuu snapped. “Yerim’ll have followed her and Hyunjin’ll have known that. Where did they go?”

Haseul hadn’t noticed that Yeojin had left. She’d gone off alone. Again. With the anger she always let herself feel, she was a target. 

“Hyejoo,” Heejin said. “Yeojin would've wanted to see it for herself.” She seemed torn between disbelief and dread. 

“She wouldn’t know where to go,” Haseul said. 

“Yerim does,” Chuu finished. “Would she have gone to that town—that house?” 

“So they both went with her,” Heejin frowned, “what’s wrong with that?” 

“I,” she broke off. Both panic and anguish shone in her eyes. 

“We don’t know where they are,” Yves said. “At one point, we knew they were fine. The next, I couldn’t even feel their light.” Haseul wondered if that was actually true. In the past, when Chuu had been convinced of something, Yves had almost always followed without questioning her. 

“They’re not safe out there,” Chuu said. “Please, I know they aren’t, but I can’t protect them. They’ll need you.” 

She didn’t say it, but Yeojin wouldn’t let Chuu or Yves do anything anyway. Gowon didn’t even come in to that discussion. Chuu knew that. It was also why she’d come to them. 

“Okay, we’ll get going.” 

“What?” Heejin rounded on her. You’re trusting her? was the silent question. 

Haseul nodded. “I know where to go.” She also knew that Chuu would see exactly where that was.

Thinking back on it, Haseul wondered why she hadn’t seen it before. Chuu’d always hid it well, but she’d so often been one step ahead of the rest. And she’d used to tip her off whenever Yeojin or someone else had snuck out. 

And now, whatever she was seeing terrified her. That scared Haseul too. She wouldn’t risk anyone’s life for a personal vendetta. She was past that. At least she hoped she was. 

______

Choerry glanced back. The spirit was a snake. Its body was thicker than her leg. Its scales were bright green and blue. Golden eyes were fixed on her. Hunger filled those eyes. 

She ran harder, making sure her path was in the opposite direction of the other two. No root tripped her. No branch cut her. She’d had plenty of practice to perfect that technique. She didn’t try to ward it off. She just needed to get far enough. Hyunjin’s path was still too dark. Yeojin’s was almost silver. Flickers of orange were in it. 

Night was coming quickly. Already, Choerry felt the glow of the waxing moon sink into her skin. She held it all within her, letting nothing slip out. 

There were other spirits following: malevolent dark ones. They’d have been going after Hyunjin otherwise. The darkness in her was a beacon. Choerry just had to outshine that. 

She blinked away tears. Her thoughts turned to the men she’d let die. She felt the shame of that. She thought of wanting that one mortal to die. 

More tears. 

Her path vanished. 

Something stabbed into her ankle. 

Choerry toppled over, her face slamming into the ground. White hot pain lanced from it. Her nose was broken—crushed actually. 

The snake tightened its grip. Fire erupted from her ankle. Choerry screamed. 

The ground opened up. She kicked at the snake, but its grip was a vice. 

The corrupted light seeped further into her. 

She forced a piece of the earth to slam into its head. Its grip loosened. She made the ground swallow the spirit and forced it to harden. 

Barely was it gone that Choerry saw a stretch of deep grey. Her path. 

She let go of her light. It erupted from her skin, illuminating the forest as though it were day. 

Four spirits surrounded her. Two fled from the light. They went in the direction she’d been going. Away from Hyunjin and Yeojin. 

The other two launched themselves at her. 

Choerry swung her arm at the first, grabbing the stag by the throat and forcing it down into the ground. 

It screeched as light flowed into it. 

A grey cougar sank its teeth into her shoulder. As she cried out, it hissed and let go. 

She made branches wrap around its body and pinned it to a tree. 

Choerry was still holding a partially turned spirit. She drove a length of moonlight into its heart, impaling it into the ground. 

The earth was churning. Choerry hadn’t noticed. Her path still hadn’t reappeared. 

The snake shot out of the ground. Too fast for her to bury it again. She dove out of the way. She landed on her bitten ankle and fell immediately. 

Choerry made the earth rise between her and the snake. It slammed into it with a series of crunches. 

She added more, making a wall around her. Any strength she’d had from running had vanished. The reality of the fight was settling in. Tears kept welling up from the pain. Her nose had started to repair itself, but it still stung. Her leg was the main problem. She couldn’t stand on it. The spirit had poisoned her. That poison was still spreading. 

The snake still tried to reach her as well. Choerry could sense that the stag had turned. It’d fled. She didn’t blame it. 

The cougar had been weakened by the light, but it hadn’t turned. Other spirits were nearing. No bright ones, thankfully, but Choerry didn’t know how she’d fight them, let alone how she’d escape the snake. 

And the light that was her future was gone. She was going to die. 

The desperation she felt now wasn’t forced. The ground was shaking beneath her. Either it was her magic, or something else. 

The ground. 

Choerry realised then how stupid her fear had made her. She even laughed. 

She took a deep breath and let the ground take her. 

Normally, this was where bodies went. Now, Choerry burrowed herself deep into it. She forced the ground to part and compress, making it free in front of her. She let it go back when she passed. 

She could barely breathe. Her chest was already tightening. The memory of drowning came to mind. She pushed it down. 

The snake was following. Its twisted, pale path was still above her. The dark spirit hadn’t broken from the branches. It was slowly turning. 

The other dark spirits were somewhere as well. Their numbers were smaller than earlier. Had she miscounted?

Choerry kept going, even as her body begged her to breathe. All she heard was the pounding of her heart and the sound of wet and dry earth churning around her. Small rocks slid past her, creating countless small cuts in her skin and clothes. Choerry’d never actually tunnelled through the ground. She didn't know how to do it. 

Then her body yanked in a breath. She started drowning. 

Once, her people had been attacked by elves. A small group, but they’d been effective. Choerry had been targeted by a water elf. He’d nearly killed her. Choerry had barely gotten her own magic under control. 

As she’d scrambled to try and swim away, the earth had crumbled, while roots of the nearby trees had launched themselves at the elf. In her panic, Choerry had both impaled and strangled him. She hadn’t known what she’d done until the whirlpool had collapsed. 

She’d sputtered and heaved beside his trembling body, her lungs ravaged by water. 

Now, Choerry forced the ground to spit her out. She coughed, her breath a wheeze. Her leg still screamed with pain, but it was somehow not reaching her. She felt the snake come, its light had a strange glee held within it. 

Light. 

It was made of it. They’d all only ever been terrified of the corrupted bright ones. What she wanted to do was dangerous, she knew that much. It wasn't much worse than dying where she stood, was it? 

Reaching for it as she would to a tree, dirt, or her own light, Choerry took hold of the snake’s light. 

The burn reached her mind. Choerry clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. 

She pushed back on it. It hissed, recoiling. 

Then Choerry’s grip slipped. The pain vanished. 

The snake shot forward. 

She grabbed it again. The fire came alive in her head. A strangled scream left her as she wrenched the snake to the side. 

The spirit flew across the ground. It smacked into a tree, breaking it in half with a deafening crack. 

Choerry let go and wrapped the tree around the snake. The wood answered her call. 

The spirit broke free just as easily. 

Choerry tried to reach for it again. The pain split her mind. She shrieked. 

Never had the light felt so wrong to her. It blinded her, making her scramble back, squeezing her eyes shut. She should’ve pushed through the pain. Now she’d pay for her weakness. 

The final blow never came. 

Instead, there was more hissing. There was also a high-pitched screeching. 

Choerry opened her eyes. She almost couldn’t see past the too bright light of the snake. 

But she knew what was in front of her. 

Hypnos was on top of the snake’s head. His claws dug into its eyes, while its teeth were in its torso.

The snake’s body whipped around. Then it slung around the bat. It began to wrap around him. Hypnos’ skin began to lighten. 

Choerry cried out. The ground shot up. It pierced through the snake’s body. It twitched, but kept wrapping itself around Hypnos. It was going to crush him. 

“Get away!” someone screamed. 

In the next moment, Choerry was being hauled up by her arms. Their skin burned her. She wrenched herself away. 

“Save him,” Choerry rasped.

“Who?” It was a voice she didn’t know. 

“The bat.” She pulled herself up, ignoring how her leg protested the movement. “We need—” 

Hypnos let out a shriek, just as the snake’s entire body slackened. 

“He killed it?” She didn’t recognise this voice either. 

The bat fell away. The snake had a dark blue head, which was partially torn off. Its eyes were still gold, but they’d been ripped into as well. Light leaked from its eyes and neck. 

Hypnos lay still on his front. Half of him was lavender. 

Choerry crawled over to him. The dark purple churned across his skin. It made for a soup of the two shades of purple. 

He was alive. He hadn’t been turned. 

Then what was he now?

“Others are coming.” It was the person who’d first screamed at her. She was a girl with bright blue hair. Her light was blinding. 

Choerry looked away and put a hand to Hypnos’ head. He didn’t flinch. 

“I’ll carry you,” Blue-hair said. “You’ll carry him.” She’d stopped glowing. She was beautiful. 

“Carry him?” Her voice sounded faint to her. 

A small way’s away, she saw three other girls fighting two dark spirits. One was on its way to turning. Another pair had already been turned. They fought with the girls. These were other Astra. 

“You’re the one who can control nature, right?” 

Choerry laughed. “I just control dirt and wood.” Or was there more? She couldn’t quite remember. 

Still, she made the ground beneath Hypnos hard and got it to rise. The platform shook. 

“Where’re the others?” Choerry croaked out. “I was with two others.”

“Some of our group went to them,” a second gorgeous elf said. Her voice was so gentle. Her eyes were a deep pink. Choerry knew who she was, but couldn’t place the name. She’d never forget someone who looked like that. 

Come to think of it, she also knew Blue-hair. 

The dirt holding Hypnos fell. The pink-eyed elf caught him. She looked at Hypnos with hesitant eyes, but she didn’t drop him or the dirt. 

Arms went around Choerry and lifted her up. Even with enhanced strength, Choerry knew this person was stronger than most elves. 

She reached out a hand towards Hypnos. 

Pink-eyes came over with him so she could put a hand to his head. He closed his eyes, leaning into her hand. There was a low whimper. 

“Don’t tell them about him.” Choerry was exhausted, but the pain wasn’t letting her sleep. 

She wanted to look for the paths of the others, but she couldn’t bear to have any light in her vision. It hurt too much. 

“We won’t,” one said. She had a yellow badger at her side. 

“But we have to tell them that they can,” another frowned, “be killed?”

“And controlled,” Choerry muttered. 

The one holding her tightened her grip. “We saw that. None of us do it because it’s too painful. We don’t even know if it does damage to us.”

“I feel terrible now,” she said. “Is that enough?”

“Yeah.” A pause. “We know how to help with that.”

Good, she thought. 

“Why weren’t your friends with you?”

“They were dying,” Choerry murmured, sinking further into the arms around her. “They weren’t after I ran.”

Silence fell as they walked. Choerry’s leg hadn’t stopped burning. At some point, she’d made dirt wrap around it. It helped if the moon didn’t shine on it. 

The rest of her needed the light. Her shoulder was frozen, her hand was numb, and her nose was slowly healing. Painfully. 

Her mind was far from mending. She closed her eyes again. Just looking at the night sky hurt. 

“You distracted them,” Blue-hair said then. “Most of us came to you because so much of you was grey.”

Choerry smiled. “So it worked.”

“You made yourself bait,” the second gorgeous girl said. “Did you really expect to fight them on your own?” 

Meaning, had she expected to survive?

“No.”

They were silent the rest of the way. 

______

Yeojin slammed her staff into the spirit. It whimpered as light flooded it. 

Only one down. There were so many. This must’ve been the third pair? 

She leapt at the next one. It was going straight for Hyunjin. 

She summoned another length of moonlight. She felt a small chill. The first sign that she was using too much light. 

Hyunjin was being pinned to the ground by a spirit, its jaws snapping at her face and neck, but never quite reaching. Hyunjin’s hands were glowing only faintly. 

Yeojin kicked the spirit off of her. The thing had already gotten to its feet when Yeojin rose. Then it made for her throat. 

She rammed her staff into it. It tackled her to the ground. The wind was knocked from her, but she’d gotten a good enough blow. She easily pushed it off her, ignoring the cold that shot into her fingers. 

Hyunjin was dancing around another spirit. She didn’t have enough light for a weapon. 

Yeojin summoned a sword. The cold came again. She was only able to make half of a blade. She hoped it’d be enough. 

“Here!” She tossed it. 

Hyunjin caught it. The half-formed sword disappeared into the spirit’s mouth in the next moment. There was a shrill scream. Was that sound supposed to come out of a lion? 

She kicked it away with a grunt. “Thanks.” 

Yeojin took in the spirits around them. Some had fully turned, others were in the process of it. They hadn’t been filled with a freakish amount of darkness. 

Hyunjin cursed. “There’s more.”

Yeojin knew well enough why. They were both scared, Hyunjin was almost more dark than light, while Yeojin had drained herself of her own light. 

“We’re running,” Hyunjin said. 

She didn’t argue. She was exhausted from the running and the fighting. She also had a nice set of gashes down her back. 

Yeojin still ran. 

Where was Choerry? Yeojin wondered if she’d run away, but as much as she found the elf intolerable, she knew that Choerry would never do that. Yeojin had seen her fight before. She could handle these types of fight with ease. 

Still, there were so many spirits. What could the rest do if they caught someone on their own?

“Over here!” someone yelled. 

Yeojin deflated when she realised it wasn’t Choerry. Still, they were Astra. 

Hyunjin turned in their direction immediately. Her step had hardly faltered. Was that training or was she still pushing herself? 

Yeojin followed. 

There were spirits ahead, but one was already in the process of turning. When they reached the Astra, Yeojin watched someone stab another spirit in the heart. It was dark brown. 

“Hyunjin?” The speaker sounded as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. 

“Where’s Yerim?” Hyunjin asked. 

“We split up,” the girl replied. She had large doe eyes. They were a deep blue. “Mimi took the lead to get the other one.” Her brow furrowed. “That’s Yerim?” 

“What’s happened to her?” Hyunjin was moving again. “Where’d she go?”

They were going after where else they saw the light. Yeojin saw no sign of it with her normal vision. Just how fast had Choerry run? 

“A bright one.” A pause. “There were dark ones too, maybe they started—” 

Hyunjin had broken into a sprint. Where she got the strength, Yeojin didn’t know. 

Still, she pushed herself to keep up. Her back ached and her growing stitch was starting to feel like a stab wound. 

A bright spirit. Had Choerry known about it or had she thought she’d be getting more dark spirits off their tail?

In the moments after she’d started running, Yeojin had felt the echoes of darkness start appearing around Choerry. There’d been so much, all at once too. She’d never thought any of that would've ever come from her. 

A howl sounded then.

“I’ve got it,” someone else shouted. 

Another of the group broke away. Yeojin recognised one, Binnie. What was Hyojung’s group doing here?

As they neared the other cluster of light, Yeojin needed to sift through it to find the light threaded with purple. 

Already, Yeojin felt sick. She‘d been left drained fighting with Hyunjin at her side. Choerry had been alone. 

This isn’t that bad, she told herself. Hyunjin’s worse off and she can still run. 

No one said anything. The trek felt like hours, but it was only minutes. 

Twice, Yeojin stumbled. Hyojung righted her both times. 

She kept going. Her body was in agony, but they still needed to run. Exhaustion wouldn’t matter if Choerry was hurt. Or worse. 

Then they reached them. 

Choerry lay limp in someone’s arms. 

Yeojin felt as if she’d been punched. Choerry looked dead. 

She was covered in dirt and blood. Her clothes clung to her by simple threads. Normally, that would’ve made Yeojin blush. Now, it gave her a view of a still bleeding shoulder, as well as countless other cuts and gashes. 

Mud clung to her entire leg, but it was steadily dripping off. A sickly pale glow came from it. 

The bright spirit had gotten her. 

Most people ran from them. When it’d all started, they’d lost too many elves who’d tried their hand at fighting them. That kind of light worked like a poison. The only solution was to spend time in complete darkness. Not even a fire could be around you for too long. 

A cry left Hyunjin as she rushed over. She gathered Choerry in her arms. 

“What happened?” Yeojin asked. The words came out as a gasp. Her lungs hurt. 

The one who’d been holding her grimaced. She had blue hair. “She’d taken two down, but four more had been coming. The spirit had her cornered.”

“But that came along,” the other one said. She had pink eyes. Arin. 

That was when Yeojin saw Hypnos. She hadn’t even noticed he’d been with her. 

His two-coloured eyes were open. He was two different shades of purple, light and dark. Just like that cat spirit. 

“They can die,” the blue-haired one told them. Was this Mimi? “The bat killed it. We saw it.”

Hypnos looked up at Yeojin. She saw recognition there. He closed his eyes when she put a hand to his head. He was both cold and warm.

“He saved her,” Yeojin murmured. 

Arin nodded. “Big risk for its kind,” she said. “And her.”

“We need to get her to the water,” Hyunjin said. “These’ll get infected.”

“We’re close to camp, Hyun” Arin put a hand to her arm, “she needs a healer. And fast.”

The mud fell away completely and they were bathed in the glow of Choerry’s leg. It was bone-white. 

Choerry whimpered. 

Yeojin got out a thin blanket from her pack. She wrapped it around Choerry’s leg. Her thumb brushed the skin. She flinched at how hot it was to the touch. 

Hyunjin’s pace had quickened. Except for Choerry’s leg, both were filled with too much darkness. Even Yeojin, who’d expend almost all she had, outshone them. She didn’t know how Hyunjin was still awake. She wasn’t sure if it was even healthy for her to still be moving and exerting herself. 

At the very least, the moon was out. 

“Please tell me you have something with you,” Hyunjin said. 

Yeojin didn’t know what that meant, but she didn’t ask. 

Arin responded quickly. “We’ll get it to her once we’re there.”

“We need to get her here,” Hyunjin said, her voice strained. Her didn’t mean Choerry. Who was it? 

“I’ll send for her as soon as we get there,” Hyojung said. Her smile was almost too wide, but it was gentle. 

Hyunjin’s pace neared a jog. 

“You won’t help her if you collapse.” Arin’s hand went to her shoulder. “I can take her.”

Unsurprisingly, Hyunjin shook her head. 

They kept going. 

“Was she awake when you found her?” Only now was Hyunjin starting to sound out of breath. 

“Yeah,” Mimi said. “But out of it. She didn’t even know who we were.”

Yeojin frowned. “Why not?” Choerry looked up to this group too. She couldn’t have just forgotten what they looked like. They were all immortal. They didn’t change much. 

“She tried to control the spirit,” Arin said.

“That could’ve killed her.” The corrupted light came to you without the spirit even being close to you if you did that. Some had been driven completely mad by it or their minds had simply died before their body had. Not even the mental fae knew how to cure that. 

“No, but it still saved her life,” Mimi shrugged, “so I guess it was the next best option.”

“Will she be okay?” Yeojin felt a second wave of fear. It just made her feel colder. 

A nod. 

“You’re sure?” With Choerry’s leg, she already had too much of that light in her. 

As if reading her mind, another elf, Seunghee, said, “she got a lot, but it didn’t break her.”

Both Yeojin and Hyunjin flinched. She hated the sound of that. 

“She’ll be okay.”

“How do you know?” 

Seunghee didn’t look annoyed by Yeojin’s questions. “When it all started, I saw some die and some survive.” A hard edge came over her pale green eyes. “She will.” 

Yeojin nodded. Sometimes, she could only marvel at how much experience the people around her had. Even Choerry had led an impressive life so far. Yeojin had only ever heard snippets of it, but what she had heard about—Choerry’s trips between witches and fae, as well as her own experience in learning how to use her nature magic—Yeojin had always found herself listening then. 

“Drink something first,” Arin was saying. 

Hyunjin didn’t respond. 

The pink-eyed elf raised the waterskin to Hyunjin’s lips instead. The look in her eyes made Yeojin pause. She was left even more puzzled by Hyunjin’s expression. 

When had this happened? 

Logically, Yeojin could figure that out. Except when she thought about how Hyunjin had fought the urge to stare at Heejin whenever she walked by just last week, the sight in front of her now barely had an explanation. 

There were hurried steps then. 

Haseul appeared first. Her green eyes scanned them, meeting Yeojin’s eyes first, before sticking to Choerry. It was difficult to watch how her expression crumpled. Heejin was there soon after, her eyes widened when she saw Choerry. When she took in Hyunjin, and probably how little light was there, any bravado she might’ve had vanished. 

“Are you coming in or do I get Jinsoul?” Haseul’s voice was perfectly steady. Just hearing it made Yeojin feel better. 

That was until she saw Chuu. Countless times, she’d been told to lay off the girl. She’d always ignored them. She did now as well. 

“What’s she doing here?” Yeojin asked. “Wasn’t she on a search party?” 

Chuu looked at her. She saw hurt and something else. 

“She knew something was wrong,” Haseul said sharply. “She came back to tell us.”

“And how—” 

She raised her hand. “Yerim first.”

Yeojin felt a rush of shame then. 

“We’re going in,” Hyunjin said. “Hunting parties are starting to forget it’s dangerous out there.”

Haseul’s eyes filled with more concern when she looked at her for a bit longer. “And what about you?” 

“They need to remember what it looks like to clear a place like that.” She kept walking. “And once they see it, they’ll know it wasn’t Hyejoo.”

Haseul only nodded. 

Arin and Binnie had come back. Unharmed. They both nodded at Haseul and the others.

"The spirits were already turned when we got there," Arin said. "But I didn't see any other dark spirits?" 

"Hyejoo," Chuu whispered. 

Yeojin didn't even snap at the mention of her. She just felt worse. Had she dragged Hyejoo into this as well? Hyejoo had come back here, escaped whatever life she'd been living before, only to be dragged too close to her old one. 

No one said anything more about who'd turned those spirits. It just meant that things could've gone much worse than they already had. 

Yeojin saw that Heejin had hung back. Her eyes flit between Choerry and Hyunjin. Then they lingered on Hyunjin, eyes growing pained. She’d taken one step forward, but hadn’t taken the next. 

Yeojin knew why her worry wasn’t just for the girl in Hyunjin’s arms. Choerry’s wounds would probably heal soon. The rest didn’t seem so concerned about it—they just needed to heal Choerry soon. 

No one had talked about Hyunjin—about how the darkness had continued to seep into her heart, but they'd all be able to see it. Yeojin also didn’t say that most of the spirits had gone after Hyunjin, ignoring Yeojin until she just about tackled them. 

Briefly, she wondered if a part of Heejin could feel the extent of that damage. Whatever paths they might’ve had had been intertwined since they were little. They’d grown even closer in the years that’d followed. Even if they talked far less now, even if Heejin was bound to someone else, no one could say that they’d grown apart. Even if there were people who wished they were, and one of those people was Hyunjin herself. 

And even Yeojin could see that. She could only hope that the moon would too. 

But now, they needed to get Choerry back to camp. She’d gotten hurt just because they’d been on this journey as three. She’d gotten hurt because Hyunjin had absorbed more darkness than she could handle. And the two had only been there because Yeojin had wanted to see the house. 

They’d been in harm’s way because of Yeojin. Both had gotten hurt because of her. If she hadn’t insisted on going, if she’d gone back with Hyunjin, or agreed to go home when Choerry had given her the choice—none of them would've gotten hurt. None of them would have been in this much danger. 

But Yeojin had made them all go. Both had known she couldn’t go alone. And both were now hurt, one by darkness, the other by light. 

And it was all Yeojin's fault. 

Chapter Text

Chuu checked how much water she had. A good amount. Enough light too. She put the cap back on. 

The curtains parted and in came Sooyoung. 

The sight of her made Chuu’s stomach twist. She averted her eyes. 

The way the bond worked, Chuu always felt at ease when Sooyoung was near, but that bond had never overshadowed the feelings she'd had when she hadn't wanted to be there. It had never forced her feelings, nor had it blinded her to the disagreements they'd sometimes had. It also hadn’t blinded either of them to their mistakes. 

A lot to the time, the bond had simply encouraged her that she what she felt for Sooyoung was right. 

A few times, Chuu had wondered if that was true—if Sooyoung would also feel that way if she learned about the bond. 

And always in those times, Chuu had needed to remind herself that the bond was only a suggestion and that Sooyoung would hate to have it. 

Those reminders had helped to let her hate the times when she felt the most comfortable. They’d stopped most of her nerves when Sooyoung was near. They’d made her stomach stop fluttering when Sooyoung smiled or laughed. They’d let her distance herself from the bond. 

But not enough, she thought. They still stayed in the same tent with Chaewon. Chuu had been able to put some literal distance between them a few times, taking each opportunity she had to go off with Jungeun when she contacted other elves or fairies. Each time she hoped that the people she met there, the ones who charmed her and were charmed by her, would somehow help the bond to fade. 

They never did. 

“Ready?”

Chuu looked up and immediately dropped her gaze. Sooyoung had her back to her, thankfully, but she was in the middle of changing. 

Once again, Chuu hated how her face flamed. She wished for the stretch of light she saw to vanish. 

“Yeah,” she lied. They shouldn’t have been going, but the path leading out of the tent shone brightly. Sooyoung was set on going. 

It’s better when you’re there, Sooyoung had once said. You know where we need to go. Then I know what we have to do. 

“I’m not ready.” 

To say Chuu was surprised to hear that was an understatement. 

“But you want to go.” Chuu checked the knife strapped to her waist. While the light was almost always her main weapon, Jungeun had insisted she have alternatives—something you can’t lose. 

“And you don't want to.”

The tone of voice made her look up. 

Sooyoung had properly changed. She was standing directly in front of her. 

Once, Chuu would’ve shrunk away from her gaze. Most did, but she’d learned not to. 

Instead, she got to her feet. She might not have felt shy anymore around her, but she still took one step back. 

Sooyoung pursed her lips. “Why didn’t you go with them?” 

Chuu was almost relieved. This was a question she could answer. Not completely, but a bit. As much as she lied to those she loved, she still wanted to tell the truth when she could. 

“I wasn’t the right person for that,” she said. “None of us are.” 

Sooyoung flinched, but she nodded. “Was it hard?” 

The question surprised her. “Which part?”

“Not looking for her.” The words were gentle, softened by understanding. 

Chuu shook her head. It really hadn’t been. It might’ve hurt, but she’d known she’d had to turn away. It also hadn’t been her path. She wouldn’t have had the strength to change it either. 

The taller elf looked surprised now. “How?”

Chuu frowned. “We’re going anyway. Why’re you asking me that now?”

“I wasn’t there,” Sooyoung said. “I didn’t see how you took the news. I didn’t hear what you told Jungeun before you came back.” Her eyes softened. No, something else had fallen away. “Because you didn’t tell me any of that. You still haven’t told me how you knew something was wrong.” 

There’s a lot I don’t tell you, Chuu thought. Immediately, she felt ashamed. That was another reason why it was better if the bond disappeared. Chuu had become too good at lying. Sooyoung hated that more than she did seers. Luckily enough, both applied to Chuu. 

“She doesn’t want to be found,” she said. “Least of all by us and I don’t think we’re ready to see her, we—we’re not ready to see her hate us.” Chuu didn’t think she’d ever be. 

A muscle in Sooyoung’s jaw tightened. “So you were protecting me.”

There it was. Now Sooyoung had forgotten to ask about yesterday. Now Chuu could say the next wrong thing. It’d be another shard to drive into a seemingly unbreakable bond. 

“I tried,” Chuu admitted. She tried to ignore how Sooyoung scowled at that. “But we have to go. I need to see how Jungeun’s doing first.”

She didn’t expect Sooyoung to react to Jungeun’s name. She definitely didn’t expect to see hurt appearing in the other’s eyes. 

“Then we’ll see the witch.” Chuu continued. She could handle Sooyoung’s disappointment and her anger. She couldn’t bear to see her pain, let alone cause it. “And you can ask her to track Hyejoo.” The witch was also unsubtly fond of Sooyoung. That flirtation would help.

It’d at least be a distraction. 

______

The cave was starting to look how she wanted it to. The days spent carving away at the walls and ceiling had made sure that she didn’t have to crawl in. In a few days, she’d be able to stand. 

Olivia wouldn’t be able to walk around in it. That was work for the next few weeks. 

The wolf had continued to lay around, watching either Olivia or the outside world. There was never a sound from it, not even a breath or heartbeat. Olivia didn’t actually mind it as much as she had at first. The only real problem was the colour of its eyes and how it chewed or licked anything coated in darkness. 

Once, it’d looked at her carving knives with something close to hunger. She’d tossed it the pieces of one when it’d snapped in the rock. The spirit had eaten each of them. 

And it kept staring at her with infuriatingly endearing green eyes each time she summoned any darkness. 

“You weren’t starving before,” Olivia murmured now. “Why act like it?” She set down a chunk of shadow in front of it. 

It began to gnaw at it like it was a piece of flesh. Its eyes closed. Now the thing was content. 

She cursed it and kept working. 

As she smoothed down the walls for what seemed like the twentieth time, she went through what she still needed. 

Since fighting Taegen, her skin still hadn’t healed. If anything, it might’ve gotten worse. Once, she’d considered going to find a witch to help her. Twice, she’d inspected the wounds in broad daylight, her skin prickling as the sun bore down on them. Seeing the sharp, black lines in her skin and the horrific looking black scab, Olivia had decided against getting help. 

There was magic to conceal the black veins, something she’d used a fair amount of times. The strange thing was that her blood had returned to red. It turned dark when she was injured. And if a witch saw the injury, while also having heard of the man murdered by darkness, it was hardly the best idea. 

No, she had to figure that out herself. 

Darkness could heal, a lot like light could, but Olivia had barely been able to get a stab wound to heal. All the help her own magic was able to give her was a numbing effect for the pain. 

It also ensured that she was mortally freezing for most of the day. 

That was what she needed next: firewood. It hadn’t rained for some time. She hoped she’d find decent wood for a fire. Fire sigils could overcome most limits of normal kindling. It’d probably work here. 

Had Jungeun been there, her magic would’ve burned through a wet log in seconds. 

Just the thought gave her a wave of homesickness. 

Olivia kept working, trying to work against that tide. The longing for home was a lot stronger now that she’d seen two people from it. 

Jungeun and Yerim had both seemed tired the day she'd seen them. It was a small wonder why. The pale spirits that attacked anyone could be warded off by the Astra, but not fought. Other dark spirits needed more light to turn. 

At least she assumed so, because they held more darkness now. 

Even the wolf spirit held a lot of it. From what she could tell, there was anger, but a lot of fear, as well as melancholy. And yet, Olivia didn’t feel afraid or sad around it. She almost felt comfortable. 

But that might’ve been because of its eyes. As much as she hated how familiar they were, that very same familiarity reassured her. How could they not? 

Again, the homesickness rose. Again, Olivia shoved it down in favour of planning the next hours. 

That was the weird thing about being alone, time flowed very differently. In a group, she’d often lived through days at a time without thinking much of it. There’d been moments where she’d felt each passing second, but those’d been rare. 

Now she had those sorts of days almost constantly. They were both nice and overwhelming. They made her wonder about the future. How was eternity going to look if she spent it alone?

At that thought, Olivia looked at the wolf. It’d eaten half of the chunk she’d given it. It looked at her with half-closed green eyes, very content. 

“How long will you be here?” Olivia murmured. 

He blinked. 

Olivia frowned. There were spirits that took on the form of deer and stags. She’d never stopped to wonder if they were actually female and male in those cases. Was there supposed to be a difference here? She didn’t know anything about wolves to be able to tell the difference. Except for the obvious, but she’d never looked for that sort of thing. 

And yet, she was starting to think that the wolf was actually a ‘he’. It was a gut feeling. 

If these spirits were once a part of someone’s soul, then it was possible to know that, wasn’t it? 

Olivia shook her head. While she had a lot of time to think, there was little chance she’d spend said time wondering about how spirits came to be. That was the calling of fairies and only fairies. They spent their time devoted to uncovering all they could about the world and its magic. 

All she needed to know was how to use the darkness to fight and heal. She didn’t want to learn more. She certainly didn’t want to know why she’d gotten said magic either. The moon had willed it. She no longer cared about why. 

She just hoped that she’d helped Yerim. She'd seen enough of her light to know she'd survive, but she didn't know what else had happened. She'd run away as soon as she'd seen the other Astra. 

When she fell asleep, she dreamed of lightning crawling along her arms, searing the blood in its veins as it went. She dreamed of filling grey eyes with darkness. She dreamed of screaming and then silence. 

_______

Vivi loved being alone. She’d come across two spirits, but had turned them surprisingly easily. They must’ve not been the serious ones. The ones who’d gotten to Jungeun or Elre. 

She felt a pang of guilt then. The Astra needed numbers. They needed everyone who could summon some sort of light, either to fight, or to help the healers.

Jinsoul was one of them, and Vivi could easily say she was one of their best people. It wasn’t just how she acted, but how people looked to her and even talked about her. Despite the prejudice against non-Astra, she’d never heard a bad word said against the healer. 

She couldn’t say the same for Jungeun. There was a begrudging respect there, because Jungeun seemed to have done a lot in her time here. Enough to at least be acknowledged that she was useful to them. Still, people still put a lot of emphasis on Jungeun and her magic of fire. 

Vivi wondered if she’d end up like her in a hundred years, with the most she could hope for was a reluctant respect. She’d had that in her clan. It hadn’t been so terrible. Not great, but not bad either. 

Not for the first time, she debated not going back to the Astra at all. Some people lived well on their own, sometimes even coexisting with humans. Vampires, if not made rabid by bloodlust or completely ruthless by immortality, could be excellent company too. Witches were similar, once you overcame their pride and penchant for mischief. 

Then again, Vivi wanted a place to call home. She wanted to be around others like her and people she respected. The Astra shared her magic and had some worthwhile people. Vivi knew only three people well who’d shared her stone magic. One of them had been a fairy, a delightful one with whom she’d spent a few days, as well as nights, every now and then. 

And this was an entire society, one where she could learn even more, and one where she had seen people who had good minds and even better hearts. 

Green eyes flashed in her mind. She shook her head. Haseul wasn’t the one to dwell on. She had everything else colliding in her life. Her great ability to lead put her in a place of responsibility. Haseul took everything upon herself to do what was right. Vivi wondered when that'd become too much for her. She didn't exactly want to help her with that, or be there when Haseul's limit was reached. Vivi had fulfilled many roles in her life, but a leader had never been one of them. 

So how was she supposed to be of any help to Haseul? Especially now. 

She sensed more spirits then. Vivi fought a sigh and summoned her light. 

It was a badger, deep red. She saw in its eyes that it didn’t want to hurt her. It just eyed her sword. 

She let it disappear. 

The badger then looked somewhere behind her. It looked both cautious and curious. 

Vivi followed its gaze. 

The pink deer emerged from the trees. It looked from side to side, before finally looking at Vivi. 

She was struck by the colour. Emerald green. Had they been that same colour before? Or had time changed it? 

“Hello.” She knelt down. 

The deer neared, slowly. It was slimmer than ones she’d seen. 

She squinted at its sides. She saw the outline of its ribs. 

The deer was staring at her hands now. Her skin was glowing. Did it want the light? That’d make sense, especially if it’d been turned by said light already. 

“I can’t give you much,” she muttered. Then she stretched out a hand, letting a small chunk of moonlight appear. 

The spirit came closer and took the light into its mouth. There were a series of crunches. It closed its strange green eyes, looking extremely content. 

Vivi smiled. “Does that help?”

The deer swallowed. 

She watched as its light became a bit brighter. 

It made her wonder, if the spirits could feed and if they were capable of feeling emotions, how did they differ from animals? The first time she’d seen them, Jungeun and Jinsoul had told her that it wasn’t normal for the spirits to be physical entities. And now they could eat off of people’s hands and sink their teeth into others. What was that supposed to mean? 

Vivi wondered if she could actually do it. If she asked the right elves, as well as the right fairies, maybe she’d figure it out. 

Then again, did figuring that out matter? What would the reasons matter if no solution could be found that way? The Astra, as flawed as they were, just focused on turning the right spirits and giving others the means to do it. That took care of the problem pretty easily. 

She kept walking. The deer sometimes scampered off, before returning to her side. She wondered how the spirit saw her. Was she its caregiver or just an ally? Did it even know the difference? 

A distant roar took her out of her head.

She saw the deer straighten, before sprinting away. She watched its light flicker between the branches. 

Not a guardian, she thought. 

Then she looked to where the deer had whipped its head. She also saw light between the trees. Just looking at it, she started to feel ill, as if what little food she’d eaten had turned foul. 

The sound of heavy footfalls began. The light moved quicker through the branches. Vivi felt even sicker. 

She started running in the opposite direction. In the back of her mind, it was almost funny how she was running again. 

Haseul’s last words to her filled her head. 

You run. There’s no fighting one of those. 

She supposed that if the information saved her life, she’d have to go back and thank the girl. Even if it was common sense to run if the sight of something made her want to vomit. Also if it was chasing her. 

She could feel the spirit nearing. It was a lot faster than her. 

Vivi cursed. She erected stone outcrops behind her, hoping to slow the spirit. It was all she could do. The light wouldn’t help her here. 

______

When Olivia awoke, she heard a scream. 

Olivia got up, bashing her head against the roof of the cave in the process. Then she scrambled outside. The sun was setting. Olivia barely stopped to consider how long she’d slept. 

Her skin burned as she ran to where the sound came from. 

She stopped when she saw the light. 

They were Astra. 

They were being attacked by bright spirits. 

They’d already been hurt by one. 

Should she let the rest happen? 

Olivia saw pink in the distance. Was that the colour of their hair? 

There was the sound of rock scraping against rock. 

Olivia looked to the source. Before her eyes, a boulder melted. 

Melted. 

The grey soup shot past Olivia in the next moment.

She blinked, still stunned. Then she heard the next set of crackling. 

She snapped out of her stupor and forced her feet to move. 

As she neared, Olivia saw that the elf did indeed have pink hair. One of the spirits had been impaled by a spear of rock. The elf held a large piece of rock, wielding it like a normal sword. 

Another pair was approaching. Two pairs of bright spirits were rare, almost unheard of when it came to the aggressive bright ones. But they'd come for this person. 

Olivia took that one on. She called on the long shadows the setting sun had made. They came to her slowly. 

In that time, she kicked one spirit away. She swung her blade at the other one. It dug into its entire side. It yowled and immediately began to turn. 

Olivia tackled the first spirit. It was a slim lioness. Her hands burned where she touched it, but the darkness in her skin was stronger than the light. It hissed at her, but soon began whimpering. Her pale blue coat turned midnight blue. 

She stood. The one the pink-haired elf had impaled was slipping away from the rock. Its body reformed as it broke away. 

Olivia lunged for it, a dagger forming in her hand as she moved. She drove it into its head. Darkness flooded its body. 

Another cry entered the air. 

She turned to see the elf trying to wrestle her foot away from the clutch of a tiger. Her side had already been clawed at. 

Olivia pulled on the shadows. The air around them darkened. She sent it to wrap around the tiger. 

It didn’t let go of the girl’s leg, but it did whine. She made the darkness solid and drove the shards into the tiger’s body. It roared and let go of the elf. It tried to go for Olivia, but she dodged. 

Then it fell still. 

______

“She was in Huyeo.” 

That was close. Gowon glanced back. The thought of Hyejoo always tugged at her. There was pain, something Gowon constantly felt. Time hadn’t dulled it. 

The witch spoke with Sooyoung, her expression serious, but her eyes betrayed her interest. Gowon was quite sure her name was Doyeon. 

They’d seen her before. Sooyoung had gone to her to try and find a solution to Gowon’s pain. She hadn’t known the real reason then, but she’d tried to solve it in spite of her ignorance. 

“There’s some sort of connection to meat and a few pieces of silver,” the witch’s eyes glazed over, “probably sold something to make a profit.” Her magic involved a lot of scrying and tracking. 

Meat and silver. Was that really all she wanted? 

Briefly, Gowon wondered what Hyejoo might’ve done to get the money. Was she stealing for it? 

“Did you,” Sooyoung began, “hear anything else?” Her tone was getting a bit desperate. She leaned forward. “Was she hurt? Did she—”

“I can’t see that,” Doyeon said. “But if she’s eating, that usually means you’re not that sick.” 

Beside Gowon, Jiwoo had taken to inspecting the ceiling of the house. She wore a false mask of peace, joined with a warm smile.

“It’s alright,” Sooyoung sighed, “thank you for this.” She flashed her a smile before turning away. 

The smile immediately faded. 

The witch looked after her. Gowon had to fight the urge to tell her that any affections she might’ve developed for Sooyoung were very much in vain. 

“Come on,” Sooyoung said. “We’ve been gone too long.” She stalked away, several paces in front of them both. The mortals still out stopped in their tracks, gawking. 

Jiwoo put a hand to Gowon’s shoulder. “She’s alright,” she whispered. 

“She just bought food,” Gowon replied, ignoring a vendor trying to sell her his last catch from the river. “That doesn’t mean she's safe.” 

She’d been sent here by someone. Alluin. The name only Hyunjin knew. Naturally, no other explanation had reached their ears. Gowon still thought them lucky that Heejin hadn’t tried to forcefully keep them away from the search. 

Wouldn’t be the first time, she thought. That memory didn’t sting. It was just a reminder that those bridges would never be fixed. And rightly so. Jiwoo might've done enough to earn a bit of respect, Sooyoung as well, but Gowon had done nothing. 

And now they had another. She could still see Viian’s look of disdain and disappointment. She hadn’t come back yet. It'd been a few days already. Gowon hoped she was safe. 

There’d been two questions about Viian's whereabouts. No one else had seemed to care. 

They reached the others. 

Teveril looked up the moment Sooyoung was within sight. He was watching her, eager to meet her eyes. 

Gowon couldn’t see Sooyoung’s face, but she knew she’d not pay him much attention. 

“She’s going south,” Sooyoung said. 

Huyeo was in the east. 

“I’ve already seen spirits coming our way,” Kolina said. “Over there.” She pointed south-east. She was a seer, but not completely. She couldn't see bonds between people and usually only saw the paths of spirits. It was definitely more useful on hunts and patrol than anything else. Naturally, Kolina went on hunts, not quite stooping to patrol or guard duty. 

“Wear them down.” Sooyoung looked at each of them. When she met Gowon’s eyes, her own gaze softened. Reassuring. 

It didn’t work. 

Jiwoo nodded then. “And instead of one person expending all their light, each use a portion of it.” 

Teveril scoffed. “That takes too long. You want to cleanse one while the rest of us get three?” 

The other three with him nodded, sniggering slightly as well. 

"And then three of you get sent home, while we keep going?" Sooyoung raised a brow. "We have to ration the light." 

He shrugged, a bit of playfulness still in his gaze. “We can always compare numbers after.”

Sooyoung didn’t respond. She only strode south-east. 

Jiwoo and Gowon had no choice, but to walk faster. The speed she was using meant she wanted to tell them something. 

Sure enough, as soon as they were out of earshot, she broke the silence. 

“Teves still wants to go to the villages together,” Sooyoung muttered. “As if that’d be his opportunity.” 

“He’s trying to help,” Jiwoo replied. “And it might be useful to have more people asking around.” 

Sometimes, Gowon wondered if the girl enjoyed digging herself into a place of no return. Jiwoo had been the one who’d insisted that Sooyoung have a one-on-one meeting with the witch and now she wanted her to do more with Teveril? Gowon didn't know how she did it and she certainly had no idea why.

“He’d never ask the questions we want.” Sooyoung summoned a long curved blade of light. “None of them care about anything, except where she is. And even then they just want an excuse to drop by a tavern." 

Now Sooyoung turned a bit further east. 

“Faster,” she said. “They’ll follow soon enough.”

Gowon gritted her teeth. These kinds of hunts were always hard. 

Brighter spirits flit between the trees, used to the elves’ presence as they passed by, almost as if they were attracted to their light. Some still moved in pairs. She still didn't know why they did that. 

Gowon pushed the thought down. They needed those numbers to be strong. They didn’t need to wonder why they existed, nor what they were like. 

“Teveril would be better company than Kolina,” Jiwoo muttered. Why she wouldn't just drop it, Gowon didn’t understand. 

Digging the hole. 

Sooyoung didn’t share her confusion. Instead, she just flashed a smile over her shoulder. “Don’t lie, you couldn’t stand either of them for long.”

Jiwoo smiled, but didn’t respond. Instead, she sped up to catch Sooyoung. She looked between them and nodded. 

Sooyoung fell back to Gowon’s side, while Jiwoo led them. Gowon still didn’t know how she did it, but Jiwoo was able to sense the variations in light even better than Sooyoung could. She had a feeling that it was related to how she'd known Choerry was in danger, but she hadn't thought much about it. 

Gowon herself could barely find spirits, let alone track them. She was a lot better at fighting them. 

Now that they were further off from the rest, Gowon felt a difference in the shadows. Some had extended, as if pulled in a different direction, while others seemed blunt—almost as if someone had carved away pieces. 

Hyejoo. 

Just the thought clawed at her. Gowon saw dark eyes looking down at her, sprinkled with light. 

Then she saw how that light vanished, swallowed by two blocks of coal. Those same eyes were filled with pain. 

Jiwoo stopped. In her hands, she now held a spear. Its end was a round ball. She looked back and nodded to the base of a thick tree. 

She held it at her shoulder, ready to throw it. 

Gowon drew on the light she’d absorbed during the walk. 

She spotted the spirit. It was dark red, like the bark of some trees. Its eyes were purple, bright like Choerry’s eyes. Its form was that of a slender feline. It was beautiful. 

Sooyoung stepped forward, blade in hand.  She’d leaned forward, her steps that of a predator creeping towards prey. 

A low hiss left the spirit, eyes narrowed and focused on the sword. 

Sooyoung was only a metre away. The spirit was poised to leap at her. If Sooyoung didn’t react quickly enough, it would tear her throat out. The spirits could physically hurt them now. And they never hesitated. If you stumbled upon the wrong spirit, you quickly realised that it didn’t have survival instinct. It just attacked. 

Then Sooyoung’s blade fell to the forest floor, glittering where it lay. 

The spirit jumped, but its eyes went to the ground. It backed away, its gaze going to Sooyoung and then back to the blade. Had it understood? Could it understand? 

Then Jiwoo threw the spear. It struck the tree beside it with a sharp crack. 

The spirit ran off, its form blending in with the darkness. Within seconds, it vanished from sight. It was going east, not south. 

Sooyoung picked up her blade and sighed. 

They’d done it. 

Jiwoo brought the spear back to her hands. The point sharpened. 

Gowon released the light. The trees’ shadows returned. 

Then they heard a high yowling. Gowon felt the fear of the sound dig into her chest. 

She ran for it, hearing Sooyoung curse, but both her and Jiwoo followed. 

The next clearing held Kolina and her group. They surrounded two dark spirits. One was black, the other a deep grey with blue streaks.

The black spirit was already turning white, but it trembled as it did. Gowon heard it whimper. 

Both were benevolent spirits. 

The other spirit looked between the elf who'd impaled it and the spirit itself. Gowon swore she saw pain in its eyes. It should’ve been impossible, but it was there. 

Kolina had seen them. She brandished a large club embellished with curved spikes. She swung it once and it caught the grey spirit’s legs. It looked like a lion. 

It let out a high roar and threw itself against the nearest elf. Its claws struck her as it tried to get out of the circle. 

Priad sank a blade into its chest. A whine left the lion and it collapsed in front of them. Its chest was a pale blue. 

The elves jeered, while the lion tried to put its paw to its chest. The darkness in it flowed from the wound like blood. A cry of frustration left it as it tried to roll around on the ground. It just wanted to get rid of the blade—to get rid of the burning. 

Gowon was reminded of how Hyejoo had tried to escape the spirits when they’d attacked. Much like that day, she only watched. Her stomach twisted. 

Now the elves backed away, waiting for the transformation, while Jiwoo had gone to help the injured elf. 

Gowon looked on as well. She wanted to turn away, but the sight of suffering was nothing she could shut herself off from. Not this time. 

The light had completely changed its legs. It looked around, weakly clawing at its chest. It still whined, as the agony from the wound, from the light, hadn’t stopped. Its eyes locked on Gowon then. They were a glittering black. They weren’t filled with murder, anger, or emptiness, but desperation. The transformation was happening too slowly. It was only now reaching its neck. 

Gowon summoned a blade and threw it at the beast’s eye. It sank to the hilt. The head turned blue immediately and the spirit sighed. The darkness was gone and it would now be a part of the light. Free of the pain. 

Its companion had risen, its head lolling to the side. It limped. It went straight to the lion and sat at its side, but not by the person who’d struck it down first. It was a small white wolf. Now it looked expectant, waiting for its companion to wake. 

“Good shot!” Priad clasped Gowon’s shoulder. 

She only nodded, watching as the lion’s eyes opened. They were fully calm, bright green and not black. Did it remember what had been done to it? Did it know how it'd been hunted and nearly tortured? Did it count as the same spirit?

So many questions, none of which should have ever crossed her mind before. They did now. 

Then Sooyoung took her hand. Gowon let herself be pulled away from the newly turned spirits. The blade she’d made had held more light than it should’ve. She felt tired. 

Jiwoo gave her a waterskin. Gowon drank from it gratefully. 

Again, they were silent until they were out of earshot. 

“We’ll find more,” Sooyoung squeezed her hand, “and then near the village as we go.”

“There’s a true dark one coming now,” Jiwoo murmured. 

One they could attack. One that truly suffered and needed to be given light. Unless that wasn’t true either. 

All she knew was that certain spirits would always attack them, and that they would attack mortals, while others didn’t. They took down those who attacked. 

Gowon would gladly strike those down. They never looked at her with pain in their eyes. They never looked to her, silently asking her to relieve them of that agony. 

Chapter Text

The spirit whimpered as it turned. Pale green became the colour of a stormy sea. Its eyes turned from yellow to pale blue. Vivi would’ve thought its eyes would be dark as well.

“Why’re you here?” someone rasped. It sounded as though they were about to cough.

The newly transformed tiger turned to where the voice had come, a place of more concentrated shadows. In the setting sun, that spot stood out more than anything else. Looking at it, Vivi felt both uncertain and curious. She also felt a slow-moving sadness, but it wasn't her own. She stayed where she was, even though she was in a more than disadvantageous position. She didn't want to put any more weight on her leg and a part of her told her she wasn't dangerous, even if the shadows were coming closer now.

“Well?” A figure emerged from those shadows. They clung to her skin, reluctant to let her go. They left a thin girl with hair the colour of darkness. No light reflected from it. There wasn’t even a hint of that in her eyes either, even though she was clearly an elf and not a fairy. Her ears were longer and more pointed than Vivi's own, which were already longer than those of most fae.

This was her. It was Olivia—or was it Hyejoo? If she were a mortal, Vivi would’ve said she was only a little older than twenty.

Her eyes locked on Vivi's leg. She frowned.

“This would help.” Olivia waved a hand, gathering some of the darkness as if it were cloth. Then it fell away. “But if they sensed it within you, the chances of your being cast out would increase.” She knelt knelt down in front of her. “Unless that’s why you’re here. One exile to the other?” A small smile appeared, but there was a tinge of sadness to it.

“I haven’t been cast out,” Vivi said. “Not yet at least.”

“Few Astra ever go out alone,” she studied her, “most call it foolish.”

Vivi could almost agree with that. Her leg was on fire, but strangely bearable at the same time. Was it still the thrill of the fight that clung to her or something else of her new magic that she had yet to know of.

“I’m not Astra,” she muttered. “Not even a full-blooded elf.”

Olivia’s brow rose. “Stuck between two worlds then?” Her fingers were fiddling with the shadows across the ground. They’d collected around her.

Vivi watched as darkness travelled up Olivia’s arm in distinct branches, but there weren't similar lines in her face. At least not now. She’d heard them speak of black blood. Was that true?

“Yes,” she nodded, “are you Olivia?” It was a name that’d probably be received badly, but she had to see the reaction. She didn’t even know why some used two names in the first place. It was like the growing custom of middle names in other areas of the world.

The girl flinched, but there was no anger. She held out her hand instead. “My real name’s Hyejoo.”

"Viian." She took her hand. It was heavily calloused. Not something she saw often in immortals. Their skin usually healed too quickly for those. Vivi’s callouses had come from handling stone her entire life.

“This may be egotistic, but are you here for me?” There was a small smile on Hyejoo's face.

Vivi was surprised to see it. She’d expected to see someone brimming with rage like Heejin was. She hadn’t expected someone who could smile at a person they knew had gotten the magic of the moon.

The stories of the Astra really had started to shape her views. She’d thought she was above that.

“I wasn’t out here for anything, really.” Vivi shrugged. “But you could almost say I left because of you.”

Hyejoo’s brow shot up. “How so?”

“I heard a bit more of the story.”

“And,” she tapped her chin, “do I live up to my reputation or am I underperforming?”

Vivi frowned. “What?”

A light laugh. “That was a joke.” Hyejoo shrugged. “Probably not a good one.”

Her leg flared with heat then, as though flames were starting to lick at it.

Vivi gasped. She looked to her ankle. Then to the bite on her waist. Both areas were warm. They glowed differently than her skin did, a sickly white, almost yellow. She tried to pull out the light. Immediately, she felt nauseous. A sharp pain started forming in her head as well. She stopped trying.

“What is it?” Hyejoo asked. She moved closer, her movements slow. It was like watching a predator, but the girl’s eyes were only filled with concern.

“I think,” Vivi looked closer at the injuries, “their bites are poisonous?”

“That’s never happened to me.” Her brow furrowed. “But you also don't have my magic.” She reached out. “May I?”

Vivi held out her arm. It was too soon to say she trusted her, but she had a feeling Hyejoo wouldn't hurt her. She was also curious as to what would happen. What could Hyejoo do that other healers couldn’t?

Hyejoo’s skin was cool. That same feeling spread up her hand and to both bites.

“Are you doing something?” Vivi asked.

“No?” Hyejoo let go. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” The uncomfortable warmth had returned. She felt nauseous. “I think you were helping.”

Tentatively, the elf reached out again. The same cool feeling happened. It spread to the bites, encircling them. It felt as if the cold was subtly reaching into her blood.

The more Vivi concentrated on it, the more she felt what was wrong with the light in the first place. It made her feel angry, but also scared.

A sigh broke her concentration.

She looked up to see Hyejoo’s eyes brighten, looking less like shadow and more like obsidian. Then they closed. She winced.

Vivi made to pull her hand away.

“It’s alright,” Hyejoo said. “Just started concentrating.” The cold feeling pulled back, before she pulled her hands away.

She watched as the elf’s skin glowed before the light sank into it. Darkness surged from the ground and onto her skin. It bathed her entire hand in black before that disappeared as well.

“Better.” Hyejoo smiled. “What about you?”

Vivi nodded. “What happened?”

“I destroyed the light?” Hyejoo’s eyes fell. “Not anything reassuring to an Astran, I know, but I can do it with both types of light.”

“Thank you,” Vivi said. “Did it hurt?”

She shook her head. “It’s just strange.”

A part of her didn’t believe that, but she didn’t press her.

“Thank you,” she said again.

Hyejoo’s brow rose. “You don’t have to thank me,” she shook her head, “leaving you with a strange light like that. It wouldn’t have been right.” She flexed her hand. “I’ve done it with mortals too.”

“There are people who wouldn’t have helped.” Vivi wondered if Alluin was the type to help, or if that was only to his group of outcasts.

Hyejoo shrugged. “Me doing this doesn’t mean much either.” She got to her feet. “Need a hand?”

Vivi nodded. The burning had gone completely, but the gashes and bite marks were still there. They still hurt too.

Hyejoo helped her up. Standing now, she saw that Hyejoo was a bit taller than her, but the girl immediately fell into a more slouched posture. Relaxed.

But there was something else. Vivi felt something pulling her towards the girl. It was a subtle sensation, but unnerving. When she looked at her feet, she saw that the shadows of trees were all leaning towards Hyejoo. Her own was as well.

“Hungry?" Hyejoo's voice sounded a bit warmer too, all remaining hostility leaving it. "My visit to town was a few days ago so I've still got enough for a decent dinner.”

Vivi was hungry, but should she say so? Hyejoo looked like she hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep. Her eyes were also more sunken, her cheeks more gaunt. It defined her features, making them even more piercing. Still, it didn’t seem like they’d been caused by an abundance of food.

She decided to comment on something else. “What did you do to it?” She nodded at the tiger. It had prowled over to Hyejoo’s side. Even though its expression was almost friendly, Vivi leaned away from it.

Hyejoo smiled. “I don’t know what it means, but turning them dark helps. You probably know by now that something’s wrong with them, especially if they attack you.” She shrugged. “The spirit's also a she, by the way.”

To Vivi’s surprise, almost horror, Hyejoo’s hand went straight for the creature’s head. Vivi had learned the hard way that touching a dark spirit was a good way to nearly freeze your skin. If being burned by ice was possible, that’s how it usually felt.

And yet, Hyejoo just stroked the tiger’s head. The spirit’s eyes closed. Vivi wouldn’t have been surprised if it started purring.

“Do you control them?”

Hyejoo laughed. “‘Course not.” Then her gaze softened. “They’re just grateful.”

Like the dark spirits turned bright were.

Would you abandon the person who helped you?

When Hyejoo withdrew her hand, the tiger walked off, a spring in its step. It climbed up the nearest tree. As far as Vivi knew, she’d never seen a creature this large do that successfully.

Then again, this spirit had also been made good by being turned with darkness, so what Vivi thought was ‘normal’ was probably wrong.

“So,” Hyejoo crossed her arms, “food? I’ve got deer, rabbit, and bird.”

“Do you have fruit too?”

The corner of her lip rose. “A bit, yeah.” Then she started walking. “Most of them don’t like an open fire, especially not after a fresh transformation.”

Vivi noticed then that they were walking exactly in the direction she had been going before. She’d been letting her feet carry her, but she knew she’d been going this way.

She also couldn't put all her weight on her foot. She let a bit of light coat the ankle. A gentle warmth came over the skin. Some of the pain subsided.

“Where’re we going?”

Hyejoo glanced at her. “To my,” she pursed her lips, “well you’ll see. It’s not a tent, but it’s where all the food is.”

They walked on in silence.

Vivi had questions, but she didn’t want to bombard her. If she had to go off what she knew, Hyejoo had been alone for a very long time. She didn’t seem socially awkward, but there was a degree of confusion on her face. Vivi didn’t want to overwhelm her and seeing how she acted now would show her more than asking questions. She didn't really want to ask them either.

The dark-haired girl didn’t break the silence with questions or remarks, or even empty conversation. She only looked around the forest. Was she looking for other spirits?

“There it is.” Hyejoo pointed to a larger rock formation. “Where I live.”

“Live?” Vivi repeated. She felt a strange familiarity seeing it, but she was almost certain she’d never come across it before. She sensed darkness coursing through it. Not the one that the dark spirits had, but the one that surrounded Hyejoo. The 'good' kind of darkness.

“Yeah,” she chuckled, “I’m a cave dweller. Don’t tell.” There was humour in her eyes, but the words carried weight.

“Should I leave?” Had Vivi made a mistake crossing paths with her? What if she just put Hyejoo in danger by being here?

“No,” Hyejoo said. “It’s just I’m on my way to making it my home and I don’t wanna leave it any time soon.” She looked at the rock with a degree of fondness. Then she let out a tiny, “ah.” She turned back to Vivi. “Earlier, with the spirit and the stone,” confusion crossed her features, “what was that?”

“My other magic,” Vivi replied. “I can control stone.” A very simplified way of putting it, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to explain.

“Wow,” Hyejoo looked back at her cave, “so if you wanted to, you could bring that whole thing down?” This was also said as a joke, but there was a bit of unease there.

“Or I could make it more comfortable.”

She nodded. “Right, sorry.” She crossed her arms, her gaze falling to the ground. “Could’ve thought of that first.”

Vivi was tempted to reach out, but she thought better of it. She was more than used to that. Most assumed elementals of a specific type could only fight and destroy. "It's also what I've done most of the time, but even though my clan had ascribed the role to me, they were also the same people who taught me to think past that. Now I can do this." She tugged on one of the boulders and had the stone to form a chair.

Hyejoo scoffed then. “That’s the difference. You’re taught to think.” A harshness had entered her voice.

It was the first time Vivi was seeing the anger that sometimes took over Yeojin and Heejin. Surprisingly, it didn’t scare her. It just made her want to know the exact root of that anger and help Hyejoo quell it. What if she asked an emotional fae to help?

Then again, that probably wouldn’t help. And if they did, it’d have a cost. Emotional magic could be unpredictable. And she didn’t even know if Hyejoo would agree.

The two of them climbed a short stretch of stone. It was well hidden between bushes and other outcroppings of rock. The foot- and handholds weren’t natural. Vivi felt flecks of darkness in the grooves as she climbed. They tugged at a deep sadness, one she’d only felt a few times in her life.

At the top was a small plateau. Naturally formed. It disappeared into a low-hanging mouth of darkness. Hyejoo went straight for it. Vivi followed. She felt how the shadows around them also followed the elf. There was a tugging sensation, as if the ground was about to drift away from her. She’d felt a bit of that earlier, but not to this degree. Was Hyejoo holding herself back from doing something with Vivi’s shadow?

“Can you already glow?” Hyejoo asked. The shadows fell away, but Vivi could barely see the inside. She knew how big the cave was, as well as how the walls and ceiling had been worked away at, bit by bit. Hyejoo had been trying to make the place bigger. How long had that taken her? It was something that would’ve taken Vivi a few minutes to do.

Vivi let some of the light go. Her skin burst to life. The cave was flooded with light.

Hyejoo averted her eyes.

“Sorry,” Vivi muttered. She pulled some of the light away from her skin. It dimmed.

She looked around, catching sight of a sorry excuse for a bed, laden with a set of thin blankets. She saw a flat stone, also carved out by darkness. On it was what Vivi could only hope was meat, wrapped in cloth, as well as a few loaves of bread.

I’m well on my way to making it my home.

“Here.” Hyejoo handed her a stone bowl. It was filled with some apples, cherries, and berries. “Some’re bruised, but they’re not bad.”

In this light, Vivi saw even more of the girl’s features. She looked worn. All around her neck were markings. If they were burns or scratches, Vivi couldn’t tell.

“Thank you.” Vivi took the bowl.

Hyejoo hummed in response. She was gathering some wood from another part of the cave. In her other hand was a slab of meat.

“I’ll make the fire.” Then she went outside.

Vivi followed with the bowl of fruit. She took out an apple and bit into it. It was indeed partially soft, but she still ate it. Surprisingly, a fair amount of her clan had turned their noses up at the thought of such food. Her brief time with the Astra had shown her that they, or at least Haseul and Yeojin, hardly ever wasted food. But, as always, things got both complicated, and easier, once there was someone with plant magic. She wasn’t sure if Choerry could reverse the process of decay, but she’d seen the girl spend a good amount of time on the Astran garden.

Hyejoo was on all fours, tracing a fire sigil with a small black pick. “So what do you know?” Her tone made it seem like a casual conversation.

Not enough, Vivi thought. ‘Casual’ had been the last thing on her mind when she thought of the mysterious Olivia. “That you got the magic of darkness instead of moonlight. You were exiled for it. And I heard stories of what you did afterwards.”

Hyejoo nodded. She stacked the wood over the sigil in a neat tower. “I killed two humans,” she said. “The rest weren’t me.” She completed the sigil and fire erupted from it. “But I stole from them and might’ve traumatised a few.” Her eyes were glued to the flames. “As far as I know, the mental fae helped there.”

Two people. Vivi wondered how that'd happened. With the regret in Hyejoo's eyes at that, she thought against asking her about it.

“Emotional ones as well,” Vivi said. “They step in if a wolf’s gone out of control too.” Or any other supernatural. Feral vampires, either driven mad by an elf, fairy, or witch, could also end up tormenting entire villages. Vivi had always been glad she hadn’t been born with a connection to the mind or emotions. She preferred hunting down those vampires to reliving memories or feeling someone else’s terror.

The meat was held over the meat with a black stick. It looked out of place, using darkness to cook. It’d also been bizarre to see people cooking with light. They ate it too. Vivi wondered if Hyejoo did the same.

“And Alluin?” Vivi asked.

“Isn’t a demon.” She met her eyes. “No one I wanted to follow for long, but he isn’t evil if that’s what they told you”

“I didn’t hear anything, really,” Vivi admitted. “Hyunjin did, but I don’t know how.” She remembered that the detail had been forgotten on that day.

Hyejoo looked surprised. Then worried. “How are they? Hyunjin, Yerim, Yeojin—I know Hyunjin took the darkness from the house,” guilt filled her eyes, “but I didn’t get to see if Yerim got out okay.”

“Got out from what?” Vivi asked. Choerry had already been out with Jungeun, hadn’t she? Didn’t that mean they took breaks after longer journey like that? She thought that was how it worked. If Choerry had gone out again, what did that mean if she’d come across another dark spirit?

“You don’t know?”

“I left a few days ago. Right after they came back from seeing you.”

“Oh.” Hyejoo sat back. She twisted the spit of meat. The furrow in her brow hadn’t gone.

“How did Hyunjin take the darkness?” Vivi asked. “Astra can’t control it.”

“No,” she said. “But when something like this happens.” She glanced at the cave. “I mean, things like people getting killed with darkness, or places where the cruelty of an immortal is out of control,” she sighed, “it leaves the place corrupted. With their light, Astra can destroy a lot of it and it isn’t dangerous for mortals anymore.”

The words hung in the air. Hyejoo continued to cook her food. Vivi finished her apple.

“But they absorb some of the darkness?”

Hyejoo nodded. “I saw it happen with me,” she pointed at her shadow, “it stuck with Yerim. I don’t know if it disappears with time, or anything. Just that it goes right to them.”

Vivi knew she must have looked confused. Hyejoo just gave her a small smile.

“You probably heard the whole thing of light being focused in different places.” Her smile fell away. “Mine was in my eyes.”

“I did,” Vivi said. “So those’re the weak spots?”

“Sort of,” Hyejoo shrugged, “but most people—Astra, have a key part of their light in their heart and head.” She took away the meat and a plate of darkness appeared.

“And if that’s overcome, they die.” Vivi thought of Elre, someone she barely knew, but whose death had come as a complete surprise. Few immortals were ignorant of death, most were painfully aware of its reality. That didn’t mean that every immortal grew numb to it.

“Seen it happen?” The elf’s expression was unreadable. “With how the spirits are changing, it’s probably gonna keep happening.”

Vivi tried to sift through her tone. She tried to see if there was regret, guilt, or satisfaction. She found none of those things.

______

Haseul found Yeojin sitting by the river, downstream from where Choerry was, surrounded by a shield of dirt. She didn’t know if Yeojin was waiting for something or guarding.

“Did you eat yet?”

Yeojin jumped, but relaxed when she saw her.

“No.” She eyed the food Haseul held. “Is that a plate?”

Haseul looked at the iron platter. “Sort of.”

She raised a brow. “I thought you had a good stock of light.”

“I do,” she nodded, “but that doesn’t mean I’ll make a plate just because I can.”

Yeojin scoffed. “Tell that to Teveril. He can’t even stand using a silver spoon.”

Haseul sat beside her. She decided not to comment on Yeojin’s slightly swollen eyes, even though she wanted to. “Eat.” She put the food down in front of her.

“They keep going out too far,” she said. “They’re looking for her, but they’re bringing back drinks and junk.”

Haseul had seen fanciful food, wine soju, and other mortal luxuries. She agreed that it wasn’t right, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t for a valid reason.

“Some lost loved ones,” Haseul said. “Some think they’re losing them. They need the escape.”

That might’ve not been Teveril, but she knew that Kolina was under enormous stress. Priad’s heavily unbalanced bond with Heejin had also continued to take a toll on him.

Yeojin started eating. She glowered at the rushing water as she did.

“And isn’t it better if they’re not looking for her?” Haseul asked.

A shrug.

Haseul’s chest tightened just thinking about what could be going through Yeojin’s mind. The guilt, the worry, the powerlessness. It was everything she knew, but nothing she wanted the young elf to feel.

“Any sign of Vivi?”

“Vivi?” It was an oddly endearing name for the girl, especially someone who fought like she did.

“Nickname.” Yeojin gave her a look. “They exist too.”

Haseul lightly kicked her. “I know, but were you the one who thought of it?”

Another shrug. “She told me to call her that.”

Haseul had missed those two getting closer. How had she missed that?

Discussions, she thought. Both with passing elves and the other Astra. She’d been too busy.

“Do you think she’ll come back?” Yeojin asked.

Her chest twisted. “I don’t know. After what she heard, and whatever she went through with the fairies, maybe not.” Even if Haseul actually hoped she would. There was a lot left to learn about Viian. There was also a lot to learn from her. Haseul hadn’t been surprised to see that Viian had lived through more moon cycles than she had. A fair amount actually.

“But she’s not strong enough to be out alone.”

“She’s not weak either,” Haseul countered.

Yeojin raised a brow. “If Hyunjin’s got trouble out there, she’s got no chance.”

She had to nod. “But she might be stubborn enough to try.” Which was even more worrying.

“Then she might die.” Orange eyes were slowly filling with anger. Again. “Because we’re just that shitty.”

Haseul was tempted to agree, but someone had to have the counterargument. “If she comes back, she’ll be able to see there’s more,” she said. “If not to us, then to our magic.”

“So what?” Yeojin frowned. “She learns what she can and then she’s gone?”

“If that’s what she decides.”

“And what about having a home?” She set her fork down. “What if when I’m ready to get out there, I want to leave?”

Haseul’s heart sank. “Would you?”

The defiance faded. “Probably not, but if I did?”

“You could.” It wouldn’t be the first time. Some had even come back after a few decades spent elsewhere. Hyojung’s group had barely been able to stand the Astra, but they hadn’t exactly left—just taken extensive breaks from their society.

Yeojin smiled slightly. “You hope she comes back.”

Haseul returned it. “It’d be a shame if she left so soon.”

The look in her eyes turned playful. Haseul was happy to see it, even if it was to her expense.

“What’s better, her hair or the muscles?”

Haseul threw a piece of apple at her.

Yeojin caught it, cackling as she did. “I’m guessing that means both.” Then she moved on to the fruit bowl, no anger in her expression.

“When you’re better, same for Hyunjin and Yerim,” hopefully, “you can go on the search party.” Haseul didn’t mention that the position was freed because of Chuu. That would just ruin Yeojin’s mood again.

She nodded, a small smile on her face. “Good.”

Haseul let herself relax as they sat there. Certain things were growing terrible and others getting even worse, but for right now, she could appreciate the brief moment where she’d gotten Yeojin to smile.

______

“So why’re you actually here?” Hyejoo began to eat. Cutlery had appeared in her hands. She ate quickly, but not messily. “If you weren’t looking for me?”

Vivi wondered if she should tell the truth. What would Hyejoo think if she told her what her exact reaction had been to hearing her story? Would it dig out the other buried emotions of anger and resentment? Or would it reveal something else?

“I needed time alone,” Vivi said. “Jungeun and Choerry had come back with the fire elf injured, and then they’d told us that they’d seen you. I hadn’t known what’d happened, so they’d told me a few things.” Not enough. “And I realised why one person truly didn’t want me there.”

“But Haseul has been okay with you being there, right?”

Vivi looked at her, stunned. “How do you know that?”

“She wanted me to stay, made it damn clear that she wanted to as well,” Hyejoo said. “And I know she’d have done the same for you.” There was no trace of sarcasm in her voice. There was only warmth.

“It’s not just her.” Vivi couldn’t forget that, even if the list was short. “Jinsoul, Choerry, Hyunjin, and even Yeojin don’t seem to be offended by my presence.” The same applied to Yves, Gowon and Chuu, but Vivi knew enough about the situation not to mention them.

“And Jungeun?”

“I don’t see much of her.”

“That’s nothing personal,” Hyejoo replied. “She’s just made sure she has the most amount of work.”

“But she works with the other two,” Vivi said. “I’m supposed to join their group when I’m ready.” How would she do anything if Jungeun tried to do everything herself?

“She covers for them.” Hyejoo tore off a chunk of bread. “Always has.”

“They take advantage of her?” She’d seen that behaviour in many. She hadn’t expected those two to be one of them.

She shook her head. “Yerim isn’t ready yet for everything they do,” she said. “And Jinsoul’s a slave to honour and duty.” A shrug. “She doesn’t realise she can take proper breaks from the healing.”

“But they value her abilities a lot,” Vivi countered. She remembered how Jinsoul had sat by the river, surrounded by waterskins. “I saw her try to go on patrol with Jungeun the first day I came here. Jungeun avoided it. She goes on more patrols with Yerim.”

Hyejoo didn’t look confused at that. “Those two’re complicated.”

That seemed like an understatement.

“What about Heejin?” the elf asked.

Vivi shook her head. “One of the ones who doesn’t want me there.”

Hyejoo stopped eating. ”She was like Haseul,” she said. “Spoke up when the vote turned to me being banished or killed.” She turned her attention on the fire again. Clearly, the light from there didn’t bother her.

“That was an option?” She felt her stomach twist. Even though the elf spoke about it almost dismissively, she couldn't hide the tension in her eyes. The thought of never going back became more tempting.

“Everyone can be brutal,” Hyejoo muttered. “I met people who’d kill for money. I met mortals who’d do anything to get ahead, even paying for the death of others.”

“But turning on your own isn’t so common.” Anyone could turn their back on you, Vivi knew that, but murdering her had never been an option.

“But not exclusive to the Astra, let alone elves.” Hyejoo hugged her arms. “Didn’t one clan kill a fairy at birth?”

Vivi remembered the outrage they’d felt once they’d heard that news. “The emotional fae.” She remembered how furious her parents had been. Even so, they hadn’t interfered. Neither had she, or anyone else. “He’d had the emotion of grief in his soul.”

“What colour is that?”

She hesitated. It would do no good to lie or avoid the question. “Black.”

“Guess it could’ve been worse for me.” Hyejoo sighed. “Why’d they do it?”

“They believe your core emotion is tied to what emotion you’ll cause most in life.”

“Is it proven?”

“One of the only times the emotional fae ever fought was due to a fae tied with red. Anger.”

“I remember,” Hyejoo said.

“You were there when he attacked?” Vivi asked. How old was she? The attack must’ve been at least three hundred years ago. Vivi was almost positive that she was younger, but by how much? Maybe they were closer in age than she’d thought.

“They killed some people I knew,” Hyejoo said quietly. “But on that day," she trailed off, "I remember the anger he’d used on us. I remember how it burned.” Then she straightened. “But I know the Astra retaliated.” She chuckled, the sound empty of humour. “Just as brutally.”

The Astra. It wasn’t surprising that she didn’t tie herself to them anymore, but it was still odd to hear.

“They did,” Vivi said. She hadn’t been anywhere near that fight. For that, she was glad.

“Did they get people you knew?” Hyejoo looked pained. For her? Or remembering someone she also lost?

Vivi hesitated. “A friend.” A member of the fairy’s own clan, but she hadn’t been responsible for anyone else’s deaths.

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago," Vivi said. “Unless it hasn’t been for you.” Grief could stick with a person, always hurting every time the thought of the deceased crossed your mind. It could also fade into the past, becoming only a vague pain.

“Always depends, right?” Hyejoo shrugged. “For me it's been a long time, but I can still remember the way it felt in my mind." She frowned. "I even remember how it felt afterwards."

“I know,” Vivi said. “But the majority of his clan almost always reject violence.”

“You know them well?”

She smiled. “I knew only few very well, but almost every conflict they had ended peacefully.”

Another empty chuckle. “I bet you’ve got a lot of more wonderful stories.”

“There’s a lot you can gather just from their stories,” Vivi replied. “Lying, at least among those I knew, is rare.”

“Because the right fairy can poke around in your head for the truth,” Hyejoo replied.

“That,” Vivi nodded, “and there’s little use to it.” They lived too long, too closely together, and too exposed to keep up lies for long. “Conflict causes lies just as much as lies lead to conflict.”

“I almost forgot you’re part fairy,” the corner of her lip tugged up, “but then you say things like that.”

“Overly complex? Convoluted?”

“Wise,” Hyejoo said.

Vivi didn’t know what to say. She watched as Hyejoo finished her food, before prodding at the burning wood, turning one of the pieces.

“So how’s living with elves compared to the fairies?” Hyejoo asked, a smile returning to her features. “Are we as divided and daft as you thought?”

Vivi smiled. “Yes, but not as different as you’d expect.”

She didn’t say anything, but the question in her eyes was clear enough.

“Keeping someone like Alluin a secret may be difficult,” Vivi said. “But the systems we have, like elders, scouts, and even the fighters—they’re all quite similar.”

“And the way you treat outsiders?”

Vivi shook her head. “It’s not better,” she said softly. When she saw the disbelief, she continued, “I’m about eight hundred years old now. When the call came for me to come to the Astra, there was no opposition, except for my closest family.” Not even from her teachers, nor any of the elders. Her friends were sad, but they’d accepted her fate faster than she had. “They’d wanted me to go.”

Hyejoo didn’t reply. She just looked at her with a frown. There wasn’t any pity in her eyes, only understanding.

“I was one of the few without any magic from the moon," Hyejoo said, letting out a small sigh. "I also had eyes like this,” she pointed at herself, “and Jungeun, Yerim, even Jinsoul, were always seen as different too.”

“Jinsoul told me it got better.”

“Once you’re useful,” Hyejoo muttered. The resentment in her voice was familiar. Underneath it was also a flicker of rage. Vivi could feel the way her own light recoiled from it.

They started talking about simpler things then. Some of it included what Hyejoo did now. She worked mostly for the witches, gathering what they needed, while also turning the worser bright spirits, if she came across them.

Hyejoo didn’t ask about her life before. Vivi took that as indication enough that she should do the same. The closest they came to it was Hyejoo asking her about her magic. Vivi learned a bit more about Hyejoo’s in that that it worked like the light, but almost never ‘ran out’. There was always darkness, be it the shadows made by the sun, or what was always there whenever night fell.

In the back of her mind, Vivi wondered whether or not it could be a blessing to receive control over darkness. It didn’t have to be evil, she’d seen as much today. Unlike moonlight, one always had access to it.

It was a lot of power to have at one time. Vivi wondered if there was a cost. To use stone as a weapon, Vivi had needed to train for years, not just the magic itself, but also her body to even wield anything of rock. Emotional fae were stuck between their two worlds and were subject to the volatility of people. The same for the mental ones.

That just left the question: what was the cost of darkness?

"Were you going anywhere?" Hyejoo asked. The moon was firmly in the centre of the sky. The elf had moved towards the inside of the cave. "Nearby town, to the sea," she hesitated for a moment, "visiting family?"

Vivi shook her head. "I just needed time to think."

The corner of her lip tilted up. "About?"

"Do I go back?" Vivi looked to the moon then. "And how different will it actually be to my old life?"

"From what you told me," Hyejoo paused, "probably not that much different?" She started looking apologetic.

She just nodded. "But I did end up happy there." She made sure to watch the girl's reaction. "A part of me thinks it could happen again."

The look in Hyejoo's eyes went from stunned to warm. She smiled then. "Then try going back."

"It's that simple?"

She shrugged. "You can always leave." Hyejoo’s smile grew. "But talk to Jungeun some more. She knows what you're going through more than you'd think."

Vivi remembered the small piece of it that Jinsoul had told her. The first of the non-Astra to be able to control moonlight. A complete exception to the rule and she'd gotten there herself. And then Jungeun had been there for all the subsequent elves. Vivi was almost certain she'd do the same for her. It was a comforting thought.

"If you're tired, you can definitely stay for the day," Hyejoo said, leaning against the stone. She looked more tired than Vivi was. "But I don't know what this kind of darkness will do to a person." She patted the wall. "Just that people who were attacked by spirits get nightmares and a lot of their negative emotions are amplified."

She could see why that was a problem. She also got a small sense that Hyejoo still wanted to be alone. Vivi could understand that too.

"I'll make my way back." Vivi stood. Her ankle felt fine. Her side stung. She'd manage. If she walked slowly.

"Make sure you're using a lot of light," Hyejoo said. "Dark spirits hate light and the bright ones're also drawn to darkness. So, don't feel terrible." Another small smile.

She grinned. "I'll try my best."

Should she say more? A part of her did want to take Hyejoo up on her offer. She wanted to know her more, but also keep her company. Solitude was good in shorter bursts. Sometimes, she could be alone for weeks. Others, she could barely manage two days.

"Need me to make it bigger?" Vivi raised a hand. "I can double its size if you want."

Hyejoo laughed. "You'll take half my work from me."

"But if you need more money,  I can look for precious stones,” she said. Hyejoo had to wander the forest, gathering herbs and weeds for witches. That couldn't have been fun. “Or metals.”

The elf shrugged, a smile still on her face. “I’m doing alright. I’ve been getting proper food and slowly getting a home.” She looked up at her cave. “So I’m set.” Then she looked at Vivi again. "But thanks," she chuckled, "it's been a while since—nevermind." Her eyes fell to the ground.

Vivi's heart hurt. How long had it been since Hyejoo had been the receiver of actual kindness? Whatever home Alluin had offered her had had the caveat of: steal and kill for the mortals—money is the reward.

"Alright," Vivi said. She’d bring something back, maybe a few blades to sell to paranoid guards. Or ingots for blacksmiths. Something.

Unless Hyejoo didn't want her to come back.

As if she’d known what was coming, Hyejoo continued, “if you do decide to come back, just make sure you’re not followed.” Silence. “And don’t bring anyone else, not even Yerim or Yeojin.”

Those very people knew Hyejoo much better than Vivi did. They were people she knew needed to see Hyejoo again.

The taller elf responded to Vivi’s silence again. “The seers may not be watching your path. They’re looking out for hunters and at the ones on patrol. Other Astra who leave for a while will be looked after, either by Haseul or someone else. Elders, or future ones, will—”

“Be followed,” Vivi finished.

The response was a nod. Then it was goodbye.

Walking away from Hyejoo was harder than leaving the Astra.

Vivi couldn’t help but think of the loneliness the girl was bound to feel. The only comfort to that was that she could still come back to visit her.

Somehow, seeing Hyejoo had made it all the more clear. Vivi needed to go back. She saw little hope of fixing any bridges between Hyejoo and the Astra, but there was something else. Hyejoo could heal wounds of light and turn the bright spirits that attacked. She’d come back to this country and was probably safe here. That meant Vivi would stay.

Vivi didn’t know how she’d do it, but she’d have to try and keep it that way. Maybe she’d find some way of fixing something else in a small way. Maybe.

She knew she wouldn't make a lot of progress. For years, Heejin and Yeojin had been burying themselves in rage, Choerry had been grieving the loss of a friend, while Chuu, Yves, and Gowon had been drowned in their guilt. Gowon seemed the most weighed down by it.

The only ones who seemed intact were Hyunjin and Haseul. The latter, however, seemed to have taken on too much responsibility for what’d happened and she was looking after the ones most affected by it. Or at least trying to. The same seemed to apply to Jinsoul and Jungeun.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was near unreadable. It was either stoicism or numbness. Vivi couldn’t tell yet. Then again, Hyunjin seemed compassionate enough to still be missing Hyejoo. Vivi had no idea.

She could at least try to figure that out.

And to do that, she had to go back.

Chapter Text

Waking Yerim up had been easy. Jinsoul had used a mixture the girl herself had made stocks of. Dim purple eyes had opened. They'd immediately squeezed shut as a cry left her. 

Dirt had risen from the ground to cover her eyes. 

“I know,” Jinsoul had said. “It burns, but I need you to make a space around us. Until it wears off." 

Yerim had just nodded. The ground had risen in an arc to encase them all completely. 

They were far enough away from camp, but it was best if Yerim was as far away as possible, while still being close enough so that no spirits would try to approach. Even if there was no light being shone on her, just the presence could be painful.

Jinsoul wished she‘d been with her. She should've gone after her the moment she knew Yerim was gone. 

Jungeun summoned a flame without any moonlight. It had an easy orange glow. 

Jinsoul could’ve easily done that with a fire sigil or taken a stick and cloth to make a torch. She could’ve done all that, but then it would’ve only been her with Yerim. She wouldn’t have had Jungeun sitting beside her as she cleaned Yerim’s wounds with lightless water. Maybe it was selfish, but she'd asked Jungeun to come with her. 

The cuts along her skin and the bite on her shoulder could’ve been healed with light, but Jinsoul couldn’t risk anything going wrong with the other light. If too much darkness was difficult to treat, then too much light was even worse. 

“Why did you act as the bait?” Jinsoul asked. “You almost died. Couldn’t Yeojin and Hyunjin have helped?”

Yerim’s tired eyes sharpened then. She looked to Jungeun. 

Jinsoul followed that exchange. She watched as Jungeun nodded. Not for the first time, she saw that they had something she wasn't a part of. She felt a pang of hurt. 

Then the edges of the small cave sparked to life with tiny flames. Sigils formed. Against sound, even though they should’ve been out of earshot. 

“They wouldn’t have helped,” Yerim said, her voice hoarse. From the screaming or thirst?

Jinsoul still handed her a waterskin of untainted water. “Of course they would’ve helped.” She knew that Hyunjin would’ve rather died than let Yerim risk her life. And Yeojin, despite her anger and any potential grudges, would’ve fought with Yerim as well. 

Yerim shook her head. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “They would’ve died trying.”

There was a deep certainty in those words, something that shouldn’t have been in the girl’s voice. 

“I-I,” she looked up at Jinsoul, eyes now tearful, “I saw Hyunjin’s path disappear. I knew it would’ve happened—I know she would’ve died had I not tried something.”

Word by word, the truth sank in. 

“You’re a seer.”

Yerim flinched. For a moment, Jinsoul thought she’d tugged on a cut wrong. 

Except it’d only been a reaction to the word. She was scared of it. She was scared of what Jinsoul would think. 

“For how long?” Jinsoul asked.

“A few years,” Yerim replied. She glanced at Jungeun once, uncertain. 

“You knew as well?” Jinsoul asked her.

Jungeun’s expression crumpled. Seeing the guilt was painful, but Jinsoul was still too confused. It was too much information in too little time. 

“We hid it for as long as we could,” Jungeun said. “We barely knew what any of it was, but Yerim didn’t want either of us worrying.”

“But she told you?” And neither of you told me?

She shook her head. “What she was seeing, it was too much at the time. Jiwoo was there too—I mean, she’d known what was happening, I—” She bit her lip. 

“Chuu’s a seer too,” Jinsoul said. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised. If she was in a better headspace, she’d have been able to remember the signs of that. 

“And no one can know about that either,” Jungeun said. “She has her own reasons. Some’re Yerim’s too now.”

Yerim wore a look Jinsoul knew well. It hurt her even more. Yerim hadn't felt safe telling her. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t—I didn’t—tell you,” Yerim said. “Me having this—the Astra would hate it. It’d be like coming here for the first time, but,” she trailed off. 

Worse, Jinsoul finished in her head. “But I’d never think like that.” How had Yerim gone years with this secret? Why had she never told her? 

To quell the doubt and confusion, she gently dabbed at Yerim’s leg. It was a nasty wound. She could feel the heat of it through the cloth. Jinsoul cooled the water, before adding more.  

“You hate that the Astra can see the future,” Yerim said. “Just like how we hate how the emotion and mind readers work.” She lowered her head. “It was stupid, I know, but even if Jiwoo told me I could tell you, she hasn’t even told Gowon or Yves about it.” 

“And how long has she known?”

“Almost all her life,” Jungeun said. 

Jinsoul had rarely needed to keep a secret, let alone for very long. Something to keep buried for years, a lifetime? She couldn’t imagine it. 

“I don’t really know what I’m seeing yet,” Yerim sighed, “people I think’ll get hurt, I follow them just to watch them trip over a root. Then I see the paths people go, ones that even normal animals do, and I barely know how to sift through it.”

“And where does Chuu come in?”

“She’s teaching me how to see,” she said. “Slowly. I can’t get it right, but it’s better now.” Her lip trembled slightly. She blinked several times. The tears were about to come. She could feel them building. 

It was exactly the sign Jinsoul needed. She shoved down whatever hurt she was feeling. This hadn’t been her secret. It hadn't even really been Jungeun's. 

“I know I couldn’t help much,” Jinsoul leaned over and pulled her in for a hug, “but I would’ve been there every day. Just like I’ll be now.” 

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I can give you all the reasons—excuses for—”

“You don’t have to. At least not now.” She pressed a kiss to her temple. 

Yerim finally relaxed. Jinsoul felt tears soak into her shoulder. She tightened her grip as well. 

Yes, she didn’t like seers. She didn’t like how they had to put so much trust in them, but she hadn’t ever been able to deny that they needed seers too. What she’d never thought about was that seeing the future was difficult. She’d just caught a glimpse of that now. 

And she hadn’t been there for Yerim during any of it. She’d just been telling her to grow more herbs. 

Jungeun and Chuu had been helping her master another application of her magic. 

Speaking of. “Come here,” Jinsoul muttered. 

Moments later, another set of arms engulfed them. They added even more warmth to the cold night. Yerim relaxed further, while Jinsoul found herself leaning into Jungeun's touch. 

“Is this why you never let me on patrols? They were training sessions?”

“Yeah,” Yerim replied. “But you were also busy.”

Jinsoul sighed. “You both keep saying that, but I can make time for other things. You just never let me.” She lifted her hand and pinched Jungeun’s cheek. 

“We’re almost on one now,” Jungeun said. When she looked Jinsoul’s way, her eyes were shining. 

“Not so fast,” Jinsoul gave her a look, “you already broke your bed-rest period.”

She laughed. "You asked me to be here." 

With the warmth of Jungeun's arms still there and Yerim securely in Jinsoul’s own arms, she felt a lightness in her chest. When was the last time they’d all been together like this? When was the last time Jungeun had even come close to holding her? 

A part of her was glad to finally have an explanation. The other part knew that it was Yerim’s behaviour that made sense now. Jungeun’s still didn’t. 

She rid her mind of those questions. She’d gotten one explanation and the three of them were here together. She’d be alright with that.

“But why go off by yourself?” Jinsoul asked. “What if you’d have gotten away together?”

Yerim shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to do,” she laid her head on Jinsoul’s lap, “my path was fine.”

Then Jungeun stiffened. “What happened to it when you ran?”

A pause. 

“It vanished.”

Hearing the words wasn’t a surprise. What took her aback was how Yerim said them. Her voice was painfully quiet, while her eyes didn’t meet Jungeun’s or Jinsoul’s. 

“But it came back,” Yerim said. “It did when I was trying to fight it.”

Jinsoul ran her fingers through her hair. That Yerim had been alone in the first place rubbed her the wrong way. She should’ve been there with her. 

Jungeun took Yerim’s hand. “And you did it.”

“Hypnos saved me,” Yerim smiled, before it faded. "You heard they can kill each other, right?” 

Jinsoul nodded. “And he didn’t turn.” 

She nodded. “Don’t know how, but he’s both.” Already, her eyes were starting to droop. 

Jinsoul watched as Jungeun kept brushing her thumb over Yerim’s hand. Something dawned on her then. 

What Yerim had done, it was so like Jungeun, only she’d known exactly what risk she’d been taking. That wasn’t to say that Jungeun wouldn’t have done the same, but she couldn’t have. 

Yerim had and she’d used that responsibility to change whatever she could whenever she had the chance. Jinsoul felt enormously proud at how she took things into her hands, but also scared of how far she’d go. 

She’d been ready to do anything to save Hyunjin and Yeojin. Not many were willing to go that far. Yerim could save lives without risking her own. She had the potential to be one of the most well-rounded healers Jinsoul had ever seen. She was patient and everyone liked her. 

But Yerim also had a view into the future that only a select few had. How could Jinsoul to tell her not to use it? How could she tell her to turn a blind eye to any of that? All to make sure she was safe? What about the others whose lives she could save?

That is, unless she wasn’t alone. Unless they helped her. 

“Need to make an exit?” Yerim murmured, breaking the silence. 

The earth on the far end crumbled. 

“Go eat,” Yerim said. “Knock when you need me.” She made to move off Jinsoul’s lap. Amazingly, a small glow had returned to her eyes. Jinsoul didn't know how that could've happened. None of them were giving her any light. 

“I’ll stay.” Jinsoul pulled her back.

Jungeun hadn’t moved. “Me too.”

Jinsoul frowned. “The moon’s out. You need that.”

“So do you.”

Yerim chuckled. “Your paths are tied no matter what you do.” A pause. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be sleeping too.” 

Jungeun reached out with her other hand and took Jinsoul’s. Her skin, like always, was warm. “Have you even had something to eat today?” Her red eyes had gotten brighter. 

“I’m okay with being a lone cave dweller,” Yerim said. “Especially after you patched me up.” 

Jungeun squeezed her hand. Naturally, the firelight suited her. It bathed her hair in flickering orange and caught in her eyes. It was if her irises held actual flames. Sometimes, Jungeun could actually have eyes of fire, but only when she used her magic, was angry, or scared. Now it was just something natural. Calm. 

“I’ll be back later,” Jinsoul said. “With your food.”

“And what about your other patients?” The corner of Yerim’s lip was tugging up. It was a bit too much of a knowing smile for Jinsoul’s liking. 

“One’ll be with you,” Jungeun replied. “Two birds with one stone.” 

Yerim all but giggled. Jinsoul fought the urge to pinch her arm. 

The two of them left then. The entrance was sealed again with dirt. 

Jinsoul spotted Yeojin a small way’s away. 

“You just have to knock,” she told her. 

Yeojin shook her head. “How is she?” No anger in her voice or expression. It emphasised how young she still was, as well as Yerim. It reminded Jinsoul of how young Hyejoo still was. 

“Better.”

She nodded. Guilt came over her features. Of course. Yeojin didn’t know why Yerim had done what she did, not really. She probably just believed that if she'd just gone with her, Yerim wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Hyunjin would be thinking the same, but worse too. 

“Don’t blame yourself,” Jungeun said, a warm smile on her face. “You—”

“I wanted to see it,” Yeojin said. “Where it happened. She came along. Hyunjin too.” She looked at the ground. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t,” she broke off. A deep breath. “If I’d just stayed, none of this would’ve happened.” 

“Hyunjin would’ve gone anyway.” Jungeun spoke softly, but the certainty in her voice was plain. Yeojin looked up. “And she would’ve been followed, like you had been.” A pause. “Without either of you there.”

Some of the tension in her shoulders eased, but not completely. Jinsoul knew she was about to cry. She'd rarely seen her cry.

“I wasn’t there for them,” Yeojin muttered. “I’m sorry.” The first tear fell. “You‘re always trying to protect her and then I–”

Jinsoul pulled her into a hug. She wasn’t sure when she’d last hugged Yeojin, or even if she ever had. 

But Yeojin just wrapped her arms around her waist. I’m sorry came over and over again. 

“This wasn’t your fault,” Jinsoul said. She wasn’t good with words. Not like Jungeun. “It wasn’t anyone’s.” Except for Alluin, but she still didn’t know what the story was there.

A part of her wanted to blame the moon, but she couldn't. While it gave the ability to kill, it also gave the means to heal. Where it was most likely the reason for spirits, it was also the reason why someone like Yerim had the ability to stop terrible things from happening. 

Yeojin pulled away. “I guess,” she murmured. She wiped her eyes. Then she smiled at them, weakly. “Thanks.” 

With that, she turned away. She didn’t look back, but her shoulders weren’t hanging down. There was still grey around her, but it wasn’t anything worrying. 

Jungeun’s hand found Jinsoul’s again. The simple gesture gave her more comfort than it should’ve. Jinsoul had to stop herself from looking over. She didn’t know if she’d be able to manage it without closing the distance. She knew that now wasn’t the time for it. She also knew that Jungeun wasn’t ready. She rarely was. 

______

Jinsoul looked exhausted. It wasn’t anything to do with shadowed eyes, but instead with her posture and the look on her face when she thought Jungeun was focused on her food. 

They’d chosen a spot by the river, away from the rest. Jinsoul was also refilling the waterskins. Jungeun hadn’t seen the process in a while. She’d almost forgotten the beauty of it. That might’ve been one reason why she’d stopped looking. 

“Your food’s getting cold,” Jungeun said. 

With a slow arc of her hand, a stream of glowing water filled a waterskin. 

“I’ve got you for that.” A broad smile began to appear. Her right eye glittered blue, while the other shone white. Some found their eyes unnerving. Jungeun found the blue and silvery-white just as beautiful as when both eyes were blue. 

“You took three bites.”

Jinsoul’s brow rose. “You counted?”

Jungeun blushed. 

The water fell back down into the river. There was no splash. 

Jinsoul took up her plate and held it out. 

Jungeun could only stare. Was that all it took?

“What?” Jinsoul’s smile grew. “I’m not as stubborn as you.”

She put her hand under the plate and warmed it. She also let the air around the food heat up. 

“Thanks.” Jinsoul started to eat again. She hummed a small tune. Jungeun remembered a time when Jinsoul hadn't sung. It'd been the first few years of coming here. At some point, she'd started again. She’d also started saying Jungeun should join her. Jungeun’d always refused. 

“Have you been singing lately?” Jungeun asked. 

She nodded. “We had a little performance last month.” 

“Really?” How had she missed that? 

“You,” Jinsoul began, "were taking care of a spirit pair. That battle in the south.”

“Oh.”

Jinsoul hadn’t said it, but she didn’t have to. Jungeun had lost track of everything that meant “us”. Now, she only really knew about Jinsoul’s healing, not anything else. 

“I’m sorry.”

Jinsoul stared at her. “For?” Her left eye had turned blue. 

“A lot.” Everything, she thought. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there last month. You were probably nervous.” Even if she had no reason to be, with that voice.

No response. 

Jungeun didn’t need one. She wasn’t finished. “We should’ve told you sooner. Yerim’ll say it was all her, but I could’ve tried harder—I could’ve convinced her that you’d have never thought worse of her. I knew you wouldn’t.”

Silence. 

“And I’m sorry I’ve never been—well, with you—for you—I mean,” Jungeun took a breath, “here.”

Jinsoul was still silent. Now she could’ve used an answer. 

“But I’ll do things different. Now that you know, you’ll be with us for patrols. Jiwoo’s also there for helping Yerim handle things, but it can just be us three. And then we can help Yerim through things, like when she follows the darker paths of people who need help. Anything like that, you’ll be in on it. And then—”

She broke off when Jinsoul threw her arms around her. The food was forgotten again. 

The scent of water filled her nose. She could barely remember where her apology was going. 

“It’s okay,” Jinsoul said, burying her face in her neck. “It’s okay.” Then she chuckled. 

“What?” She wondered if Jinsoul would feel her blush. That’d be embarrassing. 

“We,” she said. “It’s been years since we did anything.” Another laugh. Her grip on Jungeun tightened. 

Jungeun was stunned where she sat. Jinsoul was—how could she describe her? Jungeun only knew that she was wonderful. And that she had too much faith in Jungeun. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve any of it. She didn’t know how Jinsoul found it so easy to forgive her for the past years. 

Tears pricked at her eyes. She blinked them away, before realising it was no use. Hiding tears was impossible around anyone with water magic. 

Jinsoul pulled away, a frown already forming. “Does something hurt?”

She shook her head. 

“Then why?” Blue eyes scanned Jungeun’s face. 

Jungeun knew then that she should’ve actually just said she was in pain. “Nothing serious.”

It got her a look. “I thought we were being honest now.”

She had her there. And Jungeun owed it to her. 

“I realised how terrible I really am.” 

Jinsoul’s brow furrowed. “That’s not—”

“It’s true,” she said. “I didn’t just lie to you for years, but I left you here. We never did the things you loved doing—not patrol, or seeing the fae, or elves—none of it.” 

“We did something,” Jinsoul muttered. She was giving her a look she couldn’t read. Then again, that wasn’t saying much. 

“Not enough. Finding Viian, or the yearly visit doesn’t count.” 

“I like those visits.” A small smile. “Seeing you with your family. With your friends.”

“But—”

Jinsoul shifted to cup her face. “I could’ve done those things whenever. I can always make time for it. We’re getting enough healers now too.” Her thumb brushed across Jungeun’s cheek, wiping away the other fallen tears. In the back of her mind, Jungeun knew Jinsoul could’ve just done that with her magic. “But those trips are boring if you’re not with me.”

“And Yerim’s sigil works better.” Jungeun had had terrible trips through the earth, because some people were just too sloppy with their sigils. 

She smiled. “Yeah, that too.” 

Jungeun’s eyes burned again. “You didn’t exactly make me feel better.”

Jinsoul forced Jungeun to look at her. Just how close were they? 

“How about this, you go on a trip, patrol, anything, and if you make time for me—and Yerim—then I’ll always have time for you.” 

“And if someone’s having a child?”

Jinsoul rolled her eyes. “We don’t get many and you know it.”

Jungeun had to laugh. “I do.” 

She pinched her cheek. “So don’t start looking for a way out.” 

There was a moment of comfortable silence. Jungeun still wasn’t sure if she’d said everything she needed to. She probably hadn’t. 

And then she realised that Jinsoul still had her hands on her face. She was still looking at her with gentle eyes. There was nothing but warmth there. Just looking into them made something in Jungeun's chest twist, while also making it feel lighter. Whatever cold she still felt from the darkness had faded too. Was the smell of water getting stronger?

It was too much. Jungeun realised that something could happen now. Something she wasn't prepared for. 

“I think I know why everything that happened happened,” Jinsoul said slowly. “So I don’t need you feeling bad about it. There’s nothing I have to forgive you for.” 

Despite her mind being a mess, Jungeun knew exactly how she wanted to deny that. Jinsoul didn't have to forgive her for it, but she had a lot to apologise for. 

“Let me finish.” Jinsoul’s gaze was sharp, but still warm. “All I need is for us to not be like that anymore.”

“We won’t,” Jungeun promised. “And if we start, you’ll tell me.” 

She got the sense then that more could’ve been said then—more should have been said. 

The hands on her face shifted. Jinsoul’s gaze became more intense. The silence became strained. Jungeun didn’t know what to do. It was more than she could handle. Telling the truth and all that came with it had pushed her limits. Now she was well past them. 

Jinsoul pulled away. Her bottom lip had been pulled between her teeth. 

“I’ll tell you,” Jinsoul’s smile appeared, “promise.” There was something off in her eyes. Was it disappointment or relief?

Jungeun still felt on edge, as if she hadn’t done or said something. She was both disappointed and relieved by that. More disappointed. Confused too. 

______

Chuu knew Sooyoung was waiting for an explanation of what had happened, one she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, give her. 

Already, she pushed the guilt down. It’d be more obvious that she was avoiding the truth, but that was alright. Maybe even better. 

They sat around the fire, once again, in the midst of dinner. Chaewon had tried to make it, but as always, she’d been distracted. Now, the chicken had a slight charred taste to it. With enough seasoning, it tasted fine. They’d each laughed about it, but now they’d sunken into another silence. 

“Look,” a harsh voice cut through the uneasy silence, “I’m sorry for earlier.” 

Chuu fought the urge to gape when she saw the speaker. Yeojin was standing there and she wasn’t looking at them with complete hatred. 

“Choerry doesn’t feel like I do, I know, but you were just trying to help,” Yeojin said. A pause. She looked between them, shifting her eyes away as if the eye contact burned. “So thanks for that." She squared her shoulders and walked away. 

Chuu nearly went after her. She didn’t. It was a bad idea and she didn’t even have to look into the future for that. 

She looked to Sooyoung instead. She looked as surprised as Chuu was. So did Chaewon. The same for Chaewon.

“So we’re going out there tomorrow?” Chaewon asked. “Or asking around again?”

“Should we?” Sooyoung asked. She was looking directly at Chuu. 

Her stomach twisted at the word choice. Why was Sooyoung asking her? 

Sooyoung continued before Chuu’s mind could spiral more. “Do you think they’ll be okay with that? Or should we,” she trailed off, looking over to one end of camp. 

Chuu found her words then. “Focus on getting the spirits around us turned?” She liked that idea a lot more. 

Sooyoung nodded. 

Chuu did the same. “We’ll be more useful that way. I’ll tell Jungeun about what we heard. She can tell Haseul or Hyunjin.” And they’d tell Heejin. She knew well enough that the girl wouldn’t trust a word out of their mouths. She hadn’t before and she wouldn’t tomorrow. That was their reality now. 

“Then that’s what we do.” Sooyoung’s face warmed with a smile. 

Chuu felt the corners of her own lips rose. She looked back at the fire. It only took a smile to tug at the bond. 

“How’re you feeling?” Chuu asked Chaewon. The bond was still grey, but it had thin tendrils of silver. 

Chaewon’s hand twitched towards her chest.m, before falling away. “Like always.”

That meant it still ached. Chuu didn’t know how a constant pain like that was supposed to feel. She wished Chaewon could share it, then they could at least make it bearable. 

“Sure we shouldn’t go to the healers?” Sooyoung asked. 

Immediately, Chaewon shook her head. No path appeared that went to the healers. The one that went to their tent had grown brighter. 

“Not the best time for that.” 

“And Jinsoul?” Chuu hadn’t really talked much to her, ever, but she knew from Jungeun and Yerim that the girl didn’t hate them. 

“She’s got a lot to deal with,” Chaewon stabbed at her food, “and this isn’t killing me.”

Just the thought made Chuu wince. 

Then Chaewon smiled. It was weak. “Don’t start worrying about me too. Neither of you have big enough heads for that.”

Sooyoung lightly kicked her leg, while Chuu chuckled. 

Silence came over them as Chuu made tea. This was a blend of ginger powder and lemon. Yerim had gifted her the powder last month. 

She glanced up now and then. Chaewon stared at the space in front of her, while Sooyoung was looking between her and Chuu. She could barely decipher the look Sooyoung gave her. 

A question bubbled up in her throat. She pushed it down and turned her attention back to the now glittering cups of tea. She handed them out. 

Chaewon nodded her thanks. She sipped it, before cringing at the heat. 

“Thanks, Jiwoo,” Sooyoung said as she took her cup. She held Chuu’s gaze then. 

Again, Chuu felt warmth stir in her chest. Just being near Sooyoung made her feel at ease. It always had, even before she’d seen the bond, even before said bond had started getting brighter. 

When they sat apart, the bond dimmed, like a candle. But it always glowed again whenever Sooyoung decided she’d try to close the distance. 

Chuu saw the hurt when she moved away again. It always made her feel worse, but she let it. No part of her was willing to do something so drastic that it’d break the bond or Sooyoung’s heart. The only thing she could do was take gradual steps in distancing herself and turning Sooyoung away. The lies could be even more obvious and Sooyoung could stop seeing her as a friend, but Chuu would never abandon her to get what she wanted. 

That’d also mean leaving Chaewon, who needed both of them there. It just wouldn’t work. 

And Chuu couldn’t do it either. Was it selfish of her or was she just being weak? Probably both. 

“Seunghee told me about the fight,” Chaewon said. “Choerry let a bright spirit follow her. She tried to control its light.”

Chuu felt ice spread along her skin. Yerim had seen something She wouldn’t have taken a risk like that otherwise. 

But even if she’d seen it, the action alone was way too risky. Chuu had felt that change hours before it’d happened. She’d felt Yerim’s light leave her. 

Yerim had always looked up to Jungeun, Jinsoul, and Hyunjin. Their selflessness was what Yerim respected above all. 

Chuu had hoped Yerim would follow Jinsoul’s lead with healing and stepping in from the sidelines. Instead she was veering towards the front, sidestepping Hyunjin’s occasional rash decisions and going straight for Jungeun’s recklessness. 

Chuu worried about that. What Jungeun did was as admirable as it was dangerous. When she’d first seen Jungeun save someone’s life, it’d been when vampires had caught them off guard. Chuu had been in awe of how quickly Jungeun had changed to help Nina, pinned under a ravenous vampire. She’d gotten far too close just to burn him with her hands. He’d let go. Another had bitten her in turn And despite the exhaustion from the venom, Jungeun had still gotten them out of the exchange fine. She’d also nearly died in the process. 

That day had gotten her a fair amount of respect, but Jungeun hadn’t stopped there. She’d stepped in again and again, sometimes coming away unharmed, other times completely beaten down. Then she was trying it again. 

Chuu knew that Jinsoul worried the most. She knew Jinsoul had seen how dangerous Jungeun’s actions were to herself from the beginning. Her worry radiated from her each time Jungeun left. That usually showed itself as a grey tinge to one's light, but it was in her eyes too. 

And if Yerim started doing the same, it’d terrify Jinsoul. Chuu wasn’t sure if the healer could handle it. 

Chuu probably couldn’t either. 

“Where are you?” Someone had sat right beside her. 

The tension in her chest eased. 

Chuu closed her eyes. “Where’s Chaewon?”

“Tired.” Sooyoung’s tone showed her disbelief. It was nearing the yearly polishing of Hyejoo’s swords or was that today?

Silence. 

Chuu found clarity in her thoughts with Sooyoung so close. She could expect another set of questions from Sooyoung and be ready to tell the lies she’d tell. 

“Should we really stop looking?” Sooyoung asked. 

Chuu nodded. 

She looked between Sooyoung and the fire. The flames reflected well in her eyes. Except Sooyoung seemed close to breaking down. 

Chuu chose the fire, while Sooyoung chose to look at her. Her gaze made the bond almost feel like it was humming. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Nothing died on Chuu’s lips. That wouldn’t work. Sooyoung would just press her for more. 

“A lot’s coming together,” Chuu admitted. “Too quickly.”

Somehow, Sooyoung looked relieved. “It’s a lot,” she said. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing.” A sigh. “I don’t know what to do.” 

Chuu didn’t either. Not through her sight at least. “We at least know we shouldn’t look for her.”

The words hadn’t helped. 

Sooyoung’s gaze went to the sky.

“It’s dangerous for the people looking,” Chuu said. “We can make that part easier for them.” 

“Hunts or patrol?” 

A simple question, but Chuu heard a greater weight in it. Patrol meant joining Jungeun. 

She shrugged. “What’s more efficient?”

“What do you like more? Both work.” Now Sooyoung looked at the fire. 

“Both’re risky,” Chuu replied. “Don’t really like either more.” She shrugged again. “But patrol takes us through towns. If you want to join Teveril when they’re next there, you can.” 

Sooyoung gave her a look. It’d been the wrong thing to say. 

Good, Chuu thought. 

“That’s not what I want.”

Chuu raised her hands. “Then don’t go.”

Her brow rose. “That’s it?”

Chuu frowned. “What do you mean that’s it? You don’t want it, so we don’t do it.” 

Sooyoung looked taken aback. 

She got to her feet. “I’m on patrol with Joshua. We’ll see what we do tomorrow.”

“You’re,” Sooyoung started. Then she shook her head. 

Chuu found herself wanting to know what she’d wanted to say. She stopped herself from asking. 

Sooyoung’s deep red eyes looked up at her. There was irritation there, but Chuu saw none of the strength from earlier. She just saw the uncertainty that’d started peeking through again. It’d been at its worst after they’d abandoned Hyejoo. Sooyoung had smothered it, but not overcome it. 

Chuu could’ve so easily sat back down beside her. She even saw the path for staying here. And if she sat down, she'd reach out to Sooyoung, ask the right questions, and let the girl spill her thoughts and doubts. That’d quell some of that uncertainty. 

But it’d also lead to closing the distance Chuu needed to maintain. Sooyoung would unconsciously, or consciously, forgive her when she wasn’t supposed to. 

No, someone else had to give her that opportunity. Maybe Chuu could convince Priad and the rest to take Sooyoung and Chaewon to the mortal town. 

So, instead of reaching out, Chuu said, “I’ll see if Jungeun’s still awake. Then I’ll let her know what we’re planning.” 

Had Sooyoung known Jungeun well, she would’ve known how poor of a lie it was. She would’ve known not to be jealous. 

So now, Chuu had to watch as Sooyoung’s expression faltered. Her confident, yet easy, smile appeared and gaze shuttered, removing all vulnerability that’d been there. 

“Okay,” Sooyoung said. Her gaze softened a touch. “Stay safe.”

Chuu nodded. “You too.” Oddly enough, her path shifted away from where she was meeting Joshua. She followed it. 

It took her to Jinsoul. Of all the people in camp, she hadn't expected that. 

She gave her a kind smile. “Did I thank you properly yet?” Jinsoul asked. “Because thank you.” 

Chuu shook her head. “I wasn’t doing the fighting.” 

“Maybe,” Jinsoul tilted her head, “but none of us knew. You did.”

The words and the knowing gaze struck her. Jinsoul knew she was a seer. 

“Jungeun?”

A nod. She told me. “Yerim’s okay too.” I know about her as well. 

Chuu felt both relieved and scared. She was happy that Yerim didn’t have to lie to a person who was closer than family to her. She was also glad that Jungeun didn’t have to lie either. That’d affected her more than it had Yerim.

Chuu had yet to understand what their actual bond was like, both as three and separately. They hadn’t known each other all their lives as most Astra had. And yet they’d grown closer than other Astra had in a fraction of those years. 

“What about you?” Jinsoul’s eyes were surprisingly intense. 

Chuu raised a brow. “Unharmed.”

She sighed. “I meant how you were.” 

They started walking. Off the path both had been walking. Sometimes, people kept walking away from their future without even knowing it. Heejin was one of those people, so were Jungeun and Haseul. Sooyoung too. 

Chuu smiled. “Very tired,” she admitted. “You?”

Jinsoul’s smile reappeared. Chuu saw exactly why Jungeun was so enraptured with her. “Same. I’m crashing before the sun rises.”

Chuu laughed. “I wish I could. I’ve still got patrol.”

The other girl looked at her, the beginnings of astonishment appearing. 

“What? Don’t believe me?”

“I do,” Jinsoul said. “Doesn’t mean it’s not a shock.”

She didn’t say it, but the reason why was clear. Most Astra put patrol beneath them. Interacting with mortals, let alone fairies, wasn’t appealing either. 

“I guess I started liking it.”

That was when she saw it. She’d said the wrong thing without meaning too. 

Jinsoul’s brow twitched and she looked away. 

Chuu immediately wanted to tell her the truth: there was nothing going on with Jungeun, Jungeun’s eyes were only on her and not Chuu, while Chuu’s heart still—

“Jungeun’s sleeping,” Jinsoul muttered. “Just so you know.” Her tone was final. Let’s stop here. 

So Chuu wracked her brain for a different subject. She wanted to talk to her about Yerim and what’d help, but this wasn’t the right place for that. 

“We’re not looking for her anymore,” Chuu said. “Probably more hunts, maybe patrol if Sooyoung and Chae want to.”

Jinsoul’s brow furrowed. The look in her eyes was awfully close to pity. “Why?” 

“We’ll do a better job there,” she replied. “And we need to get the numbers we’re facing down. Somehow.” 

Jinsoul nodded. 

“So keep that spot free for when Yerim and Jungeun are better,” Chuu suggested. “You could get Yooa and Mimi to join. They knew her.”

They’d even offered to let Hyejoo come with them once. Hyejoo had said no. She’d wanted to stay with the Astra—with them. 

Chuu felt a lump rise in her throat. Not looking for Hyejoo was the right choice. 

“It’s a good idea,” Jinsoul said softly. She put a hand on Chuu’s arm. “The rest we’ll figure out.” Her eyes were kind and surprisingly full of understanding. 

Chuu found herself believing that she did. It was still a surprise when Jinsoul treated her with the kindness from before. Was this what Jinsoul had learned by being a healer or was it just the person Jinsoul was. 

She wanted to ask Jungeun, but wasn’t sure if that’d ever be the right thing to ask. Two things could follow there: she’d trigger exactly the wrong emotion or Jungeun would smile, eyes shining, and she’d gush about Jinsoul for several minutes. 

“I hope so.” Chuu fought a sigh. What exactly they were supposed to be doing, she really didn’t know. She also didn’t want the moon to tell her. It wasn’t always right. She’d had to learn that. Now she knew it too well. 

Chapter Text

Vivi almost regretted coming back when she saw who was on patrol. 

“You’re back soon,” Heejin said. Her eyes went to the sky before meeting Vivi’s. They were cold, but not angry. Was that progress? 

“Disappointed?” She knew she sounded defensive, but she was tired enough to not care. If they’d argue, they’d argue. She’d still stay. Besides, she didn’t actually have that much of a problem with Heejin, especially now since she knew the source of that anger. 

Heejin shook her head. “Surprised that it wasn’t at least a month.” The mask flickered. “Some go years if they’re escaping something.”

Vivi spotted a burst of dark grey then. It emerged from the light that made up Heejin, as if it had always been there. Then it hid away behind white and pink. After seeing Hyejoo, Vivi saw those changes more easily. Maybe because she’d seen that there was a depth to the darkness. She was also developing an eye for that. 

“Yerim got caught up with a bright spirit, Hyunjin took up the darkness from the murders, and there’re several search parties out. We still haven’t found her.”

Vivi took the silence that followed to process those things. Hyunjin was out of commission and Heejin had taken up her role in patrol. Surprisingly. It was a small wonder that she’d stoop to a lower job here, but was that all that surprising?

“And how’s Yerim?” Hyejoo had asked after her. She’d already known, but not how bad it’d been.

“Recovering,” Heejin crossed her arms,” the first time you mix up with one of those, you’ll wish ten dark ones had gotten you.” The worry showed through in her eyes. 

Vivi almost said she’d had. She held her tongue. They’d wonder why she was fine now. And if anyone overheard and connected the dots, she’d have already failed Hyejoo. 

It was surprising how one day, hardly that, had already gotten Vivi to care about someone. Maybe it’d been the fact that neither of them had hid anything. There was a lot that she didn’t know about Hyejoo, from how long she’d spent working for Alluin to whether or not she liked the soju of the nearest village. 

“Does any of this need me?” Vivi asked. “I can take over for you too, if you want.” For all she knew, Heejin desperately wanted to go see if Hyunjin was alright. 

Heejin’s eyes widened. She said nothing. 

The moment was almost comical. Heejin was an entirely new person when she wasn’t a ball of anger. Had Vivi not seen that side of her, the elf wouldn’t actually be that threatening. 

“I guess you can join,” Heejin said then. “The seers only let me out because it’ll be a quiet night.” With that, she started walking. 

Vivi followed. “They always know that?” What if they wanted to teach someone a lesson? Did they just let that person on patrol or guard? All while protecting the valuable ones?

She snorted. “No. Something can always go wrong. A simple branch can startle a spirit, sending it my way and they wouldn’t know until I screamed.”

Vivi just nodded. 

Guard duty began and it wasn’t like anything she’d expected. Heejin wasn’t what she expected either. 

There were others on the camp’s perimeter, but Heejin avoided each of them. 

She told Vivi a few more things about what was happening. Some nomadic branch of theirs had come back and they were talking about getting witches involved with spirit hunts. 

“Some hate it, others actually support the idea.” A shrug. “So it’ll probably work.” 

Vivi spotted a bright spirit. It didn’t make her feel nauseous. “Is this how it works here? Constant discussion?”

Heejin gave her a look. “We can’t come to know each other’s thoughts, you know. Or see exactly what everyone’s feeling.”

Half of a fae clan's discussions were solved by that. The rest still went back and forth, sometimes. “At least we have smaller groups for that.” Then not everyone would pitch in. The ones who were involved were capable of leading the conversation and mediating conflict if it came up. 

“And what about the rest?” Heejin’s tone was challenging, but there was no bite to it. “Those decisions should be known, or we at least have a say in it.”

“That takes long.”

“Immortal, remember? We have a lot of time.” Heejin sighed. “And a lot of other people to do what’s actually useful.” Guilt appeared in her eyes. Then it vanished. 

“Like the hunts?”

“Like this,” she waved at the ground, “like patrol. The hunts are more sport. They’d be more useful if they didn’t always go overboard.” An empty laugh. “If we hadn’t had a fourth of us out just hunting, maybe Elre could’ve survived.”

Vivi couldn’t help but note the way Heejin spoke. Instead of impulse, there was consideration in her words. Instead of anger, there was just frustration. 

The elf also wasn’t glowing so brightly. Now the question was whether or not she’d given her light to Jinsoul, or directly to Hyunjin. 

“Is this too much?” Heejin stopped walking. 

Was she talking about the information? Or the fact that she hadn’t glared at Vivi once. 

“It’s unexpected.”

Heejin nodded, looking up at the sky once. Her skin glowed a bit brighter. “I’m sorry for how I acted,” she said. “You leaving made that even more obvious. And then I remembered what Hyun–someone told me.” She bit her lip. “Did you think I said that stuff because you’re a half-elf?”

“At first,” Vivi admitted. “It’s not an uncommon reason, not even here.”

She grimaced. “They’re like that with non-Astra. The looks will change, but in a couple years, you’ll just,” she trailed off. The ice in her gaze had completely melted. She just looked tired. 

That was a trend Vivi’d been seeing with these elves. She herself had spent so much time devoted to her magic and family that she hadn’t gotten drained. One way or another, it seemed like Hyejoo’s banishment had weighed on all of them for years. 

“I’ll be like Jungeun?” Accepted, but not as respected as others. 

Heejin nodded. “You’ll hear it from her what it was and is like.” She started fiddling with her fingers. “But she said it’s better than staying at home, as the only Astra.” 

“Because they’ll come.” Vivi glanced at the forest. “And that’s all types of spirit, not just normal bright and aggressive dark.”

The corner of her lip tugged up. The humour in her eyes was sombre. “And we say it’s a blessing.” 

They kept walking. Vivi could tell that Heejin wanted to say more, so she waited. Sometimes, if a person’s pride, or other emotions, were in the way, one just had to wait it out. If they were a good enough person and had decided to try and overcome those hurdles, they just needed a bit of time. 

Instead, she just considered what she was learning about Heejin. She would jump to fill an empty role, no matter if it was a hunt or all the way to guard duty. She also seemed to be the sort of person who was in her head a lot—at least she’d thought through the politics of the elves enough to see its limits and its benefits. 

But there was more. Heejin didn’t respect the seers nearly as much as other elves seemed to do. And someone had actually called her out about how she’d been acting. Vivi hadn’t expected that person to be Hyunjin. She was also surprised that Heejin had taken those words to heart.

She was missing something about their relationship. Having spent some time around fairies who were either emotionally stunted, or fully in tune with said emotions, Vivi had learned to be careful around these sorts of things. 

And whatever was going on with Hyunjin and Heejin, Vivi wasn’t sure if it was even her place to ask. 

“You were right,” Heejin said. “I want the moon to be wrong.” Her voice had fallen to a whisper. “I’d love it if you were a random occurrence that had no significance in the passage of time.” Her eyes glowed softly. “Because then they’d be wrong about her,” she said. “They’d be wrong about Hyejoo. And we could bring her back.” She looked away. “So you were right. I’d wished you didn’t belong here.” 

Vivi didn’t quite know what to think. She’d expected a more elaborate explanation, yes, but not so straight to the point. Not Heejin properly admitting to all of this. 

“But no,” the pink-eyed elf shook her head, “I don’t hate you.”

“You hate that I’m here,” Vivi finished. 

Heejin nodded. “So tell me you’re disgusted with what I’ve done. You can even hit me with a rock or something,” an empty laugh, “and you’d be right to.” 

“But it wouldn’t change your anger,” she said. 

“No,” Heejin replied. “I’m angry at what happened. At what’s still happening,” she waved to the trees behind them, “they’ll talk of how prosperous we are, how much better we are than the rest for being chosen by the moon.” She shook her head. “And there’re moments when I can see that, but also ones where the opposite’s true.” 

“Like when people are forced from their homes,” Vivi suggested. 

She nodded again. Then a shadow of something else seemed to come over her. “And more.” 

Vivi didn’t ask. She couldn’t demand that Heejin bare everything in one day. 

“So you’re stuck,” Vivi said instead. “The good and the bad make sure you’re stuck somewhere in the middle.” 

Heejin met her gaze then, but didn’t reply. Her gaze was expectant. Almost hopeful. 

“I wasn’t a true part of my clan,” Vivi said. “But my family and others close to me protected me when they were able to. And my clan helped me when I began to properly study my magic.” 

“Studied it?” Heejin raised a brow. “Is there a lot to learn about,” her lip twitched to the side, “stone?”

Vivi was enormously glad that she didn’t ask her about life with the fae. She could honestly say her life was good there, but Heejin’s attention would likely only be on the negative. Vivi didn’t want to relive that. 

“A great deal.” Vivi smiled. “It’s often how we learn. The beginnings are difficult, but once you manage the first piece of it, the rest is left to be figured out.” It was a distant time to think of, but she remembered the frustration, as well as the delight when something worked. “You could ask for help, but most questions were possible to figure out yourself.” She brought up some stone in liquid form. “Even if it seems impossible at first.”

The elf watched it. “You enjoyed that. A lot.” She met her eyes. “Isn’t it boring here then?”

“The opposite,” Vivi admitted. “The magic itself is more exciting than I’d ever thought before and there hasn’t been a dull moment around the camp.” Or outside of it. 

Surprisingly, Heejin blushed. “I’m sorry.” Her gaze fell away. “I know I said it earlier, but I’m really sorry.” Now everything had fallen away. That included the casual edge to her expression. Vivi had seen early on that Heejin couldn’t hide her anger very well. She had the feeling that she couldn’t do the same with her other feelings. 

Vivi didn’t reply. 

“Hyunjin told me I was acting like I hated you for having the blood of elves and fae,” she sighed, “and that was never the case, but—” She broke off. “But even then, I was still terrible to you and–and,” she trailed off. “And be honest with me about it. I know I was wrong and what I did just made coming here alone even worse.” 

It was as if the past few days, even the last hour, had transformed Heejin. Instead of someone who bordered on entitled anger, Vivi just saw someone who was nervous, ashamed, and most likely exhausted.

“The more I hear of what happened,” Vivi said. She thought of Hyejoo. “The more I understand why you were so against my being here.” She debated how best to say it without adding to her guilt. “And it didn’t make my arrival better,” she chuckled, “but that’s a memory now. It hasn’t cemented what life will be like going forward.” 

First impressions could colour one’s view, but they could be erased as well. Heejin’s was slowly fading at the edges. 

“And I’ll tell you now, that’s not forgiveness, just understanding.” Vivi might’ve even been ready to forgive Heejin fully, but a few moments of regret weren’t quite enough to deserve that. 

Heejin smiled. It must’ve been the first Vivi had seen directed at her. “I think you’d be a better elder than me.” 

Vivi snorted. “That wouldn’t ever be allowed.” 

She shrugged. “There was an elder from another clan. Not Astra, but they’d gotten close to us.”

There was. “When did they fall?”

Her eyes darkened. “Tresteu.” 

Vivi nodded. She knew how destructive that emotional fae’s splinter group had been. He was the prime example for how dangerous the fairies could really be. He was also the reason why everyone ensured they had good relations with the emotional fae. Tresteu's core emotion of anger hadn't even been the full reason for his attacks. He'd zeroed in on an injustice and taken it to an extreme. Many had been dragged into that war. 

In those battles, families had been stripped of their foundations and left to rebuild. If one side had instigated, the other would retaliate. That included other fairies jumping to Tresteu’s defence. Not because they agreed with him, but because they’d wanted the excuse to fight. There’d been little point to any of it. Vivi was relieved that not more of the emotional fae shared such a bloodlust. She was glad that almost all of them valued peace and the emotions that it brought. Even if they had a lot of flaws, they detested suffering. They’d made sure that Tresteu was the exception. 

“In this in-between of elders and not, what exactly do you have to do?” It was something Vivi barely understood. Not-yet-elders seemed to get a lot of respect already. The younger elders got more than that. The older ones even more. 

Heejin chuckled. “It’s complicated. We’re involved with a lot of discussions for one,” she said. “And we started with a lot of learning, from the cultures of the main witch branches to the politics of that one fae clan far off in the south.” 

“I don’t even know the people who’re there,” Vivi said. “They isolated themselves long before I was even born.” She laughed slightly.

A weight had lifted from the air between them. The extended moment of discomfort Vivi had felt earlier had dissipated. 

“Mostly, we’re either leading certain groups, or going to the rest to manage our ties with them,” she explained. “I do a lot with the fae, as does Haseul. Except she’s been involved with the combat side of things, like actual training, but also patrol.”

In the time Vivi had spent with the Astra, Haseul had been the one to teach her how to wield moonlight. It hadn’t been Jungeun or Jinsoul. 

“Is it normal to do even more than your normal role?”

Heejin’s smile was knowing. “Haseul has always wanted to do everything she can and more.”

“She seems to be capable of more than many give her credit for,” Vivi said. With how many only begrudgingly respected her, it seemed Haseul was thoroughly underestimated. 

A fond smile appeared on the elf’s face. “She’ll do more for us than the rest ever did.”

“You may as well,” she said. “Given that you share her ability to talk back.” 

The smile grew. “It’s gotten pretty easy to do.” 

A more comfortable silence came over them. It was one Vivi hadn’t thought would be there for at least a year.

“What do you think about doubt?” Heejin asked. “Of both people and,” she broke off, looking up. Vivi didn’t need to follow her gaze to know where she looked. 

“It’s a friend.” 

“One you can trust?”

“Occasionally,” Vivi said. “It’s one to treat with caution. It can be exactly right or lead you somewhere you never wanted to be in the first place.” 

Of course, that place could be the right one too. She didn’t mention that element of it. It had taken her years to understand that. 

“If it’s of any help, I don’t believe it’s wrong to doubt the moon.” 

“Blasphemy.” Heejin was smiling. That expression alone made the girl almost lovely. 

“Maybe,” she returned it, “but something that decrees who’s considered family and not, that shows the future, the ties between individuals, and gives you the means to turn shadow to light,” she trailed off. How could she say that without speaking complete heresy? “It’s something that’s very easy to trust.”

“Which is dangerous,” the elf finished. 

Vivi straightened. Just those words were the perfect answer to the statement. Even so, she wondered how many held that belief. How many acknowledged that power like that wasn’t necessarily completely good or reliable? 

“I didn’t doubt until I saw Hyejoo struggle with not having the light,” Heejin said. “Certain things made it worse, others made it better, but I almost rejected it when they turned her away.” Another dry laugh. “But I still stayed. I didn’t leave to look for her. I just stayed here.”

“Because it’s home,” Vivi replied. “Leaving home’s hard and not something you should do because of outrage.” 

Especially since that emotion flashed bright, but could dull just as quickly. 

“But what about fighting back?” Heejin asked. “They wanted us to believe she was evil.” She looked back at her. “Doubting that wasn’t enough. 

“Maybe not.” Vivi paused, wondering how she could express that. “But there’s been more for others to see that she’s not the one to fear.” Even before meeting Hyejoo, Vivi had known that. “And if I’m not mistaken, many still feel ashamed for what was done. That shows they know it wasn’t right.” She made sure not to say the names of Gowon, Chuu or Yves. That was an easy way to ruin the newfound peace with the elf. 

Heejin frowned. “But we’re all too cowardly to admit it.”

“A push’s needed.” Vivi looked around the trees. She spotted pale spirits flitting about. Not ones that would attack them. “And even if it’s a simple one, it could lead to something better.”

“Sounds like it’ll take a long time.” She sighed. Now she only looked exhausted. 

“Relative to eternity, it’s not long at all.” She nudged her arm. “Immortal, remember?”

Again, Heejin smiled, but it was weak. Vivi knew that Hyejoo’s banishment hadn’t happened that long ago. Simple words couldn’t help anything. Action would. If only she knew what that action could be. 

Coming back had been the right decision. She just wished she could find a way to actually help. 

______

Hyunjin was used to the cold. Sometimes she even liked it. She’d once hiked across deserts of ice and enjoyed most of the trip. Even though her fingers had been close to freezing up entirely, she’d liked being warmed only by the light within her. 

Only now she didn’t have that light. The cold didn’t leave her even if she sat right beside the fire. She hated that cold. 

It only really left her if Jungeun surrounded her in flames close enough to colour her skin red. She only warmed if the fire burned and no one would allow that.

She just had to be on the clearing by a low cliff, sitting in the glare of the moon, all while drinking litre after litre of moonlight infused water. 

Worst of all, she couldn’t even call on the moonlight. If she tried, her head began to hurt. She didn’t want to push it, but she tried every hour. It hadn’t worked yet. 

“Hungry?” 

Hyunjin looked away from the moon. “A bit.”

Arin sat down beside her. She’d tied her hair up, but now took it down. Hyunjin found herself staring. She was allowed to do that with Arin. 

“When’s the search start?” 

“Today,” she replied. “Mimi wants to go sooner to find the towns earlier, but we’re all tired. Seunghee also got roped into a progress report.”

“Only her?” They usually liked the entire group to be there. They could have reports that way. It never happened with Hyojung’s group, but sometimes the truth was bent. Having the entire group there was the best way to avoid that. People were encouraged to call out an exaggeration or blatant lie. That was one thing Hyunjin appreciated about the Astra. Even if it didn’t always apply. 

Arin’s pink eyes sparkled. They seemed brighter tonight. “They’ll start looking for me in five—ten if we’re lucky.” 

Hyunjin had to smile. It felt good to be the person Arin had snuck away too. When she’d been away from camp, they’d snuck into towns together a lot. Oftentimes, they hadn’t had an idea about the language there. Arin had been charming enough with her gestures that they’d gotten by. Most people had just been intimidated by Hyunjin. 

Remembering that, as well as just smiling, helped soothe the cold. Not as much as fire, but the change was noticeable. 

Arin handed her a glowing bowl. Stew with moonlight. 

“If you’re going out there, it may be best not to use any of this on me.”

Arin raised a brow. “I have a lot of light left.”

Hyunjin believed her. Arin was blinding compared to her. 

“I’ve got a lot to spare.” She handed Hyunjin several pieces of moonlight. “A lot that I don’t need. You do.” 

Hyunjin took them. The moonlight was almost too warm to touch. It chipped away at even more of the cold. 

“Why didn’t you split it with the other two?” Arin asked. 

Hyunjin took the first sip of stew. Warm and delicious. “Those two’ve never held that much.” And she hoped they never would. Darkness like that stuck more with you. Whatever it carried with it, be it anger or fear, felt more potent—more real. 

“And what about others?” She glanced at the moon. “We were coming back. Anyone else could’ve come with.”

“They’d been there for days,” Hyunjin said. “And one person out of commission—”

“Is better than four people weakened?” Arin frowned. “You’re sure about that?”

Hyunjin nodded. “One risk instead of four.” She drained the bowl. “Those’re better odds nowadays.”

For a long moment, she just looked at her. Hyunjin hoped it wasn’t pity being directed at her. 

“Better odds doesn’t make bearing that burden better.”

Hyunjin chuckled. “You’re right about that.” Another thought crossed her mind. 

Had she not taken all of the darkness upon herself, the spirits wouldn’t have followed them. Bright spirits were braver than the dark ones, but they still avoided a group of Astra. Even so, they’d been drawn to the darkness Hyunjin had taken. They’d known she was weak. And then they’d followed. 

Arin inched closer. She took back the bowl. Then she took her hand, the touch comforting.

“This wasn’t your fault,” Arin said firmly. “You went after them, did what you had to in that house, and then went back. You didn’t call that spirit over and you didn’t tell Yerim to distract it.” Her deep pink eyes were unwavering, but they didn’t make Hyunjin’s stomach flip. “She saved your lives, but you didn’t put them in danger in the first place. That spirit followed.” 

“End of story?” Hyunjin finished. 

The corners of her lips tugged up. 

Hyunjin watched the movement. The ease with which she could let her eyes wander was a comfort in and of itself. 

Arin’s skin began to glow. A gentle warmth settled over Hyunjin. She also didn’t have to worry others would see. 

“You’re really making yourself great company.”

She smiled. “I’m making sure you’ll want me rushing back.”

Hyunjin patted her hand. “Try harder.” She threw her a wink. 

Arin rolled her eyes tugged at her hand. The warmth from her body made Hyunjin lean into her. She was reminded of nights they’d spent closer. She blushed at those memories. Compared to others, she hadn't been with many people in her life. She'd occasionally visited Hyojung's group to both see them and spend more time with Arin. She cherished the moments where she didn't have to think of how other people saw her. 

“I missed you,” Arin said. 

“Me too,” Hyunjin muttered. 

“You didn’t find a new elf, did you? Or fairy?” A peck to her temple. 

Hyunjin laughed. The close contact seemed like it was helping. 

She looked up, about to say just that when a sweet kiss was pressed to her lips. The cold ache subsided some more. 

Immediately, Hyunjin felt a longing rise. It wasn’t that she hadn’t spent time like this with anyone else, she had, but this was different. 

With her other hand, she pulled Arin closer. 

The first time they’d kissed, Hyunjin had been away from camp for a month. She’d desperately wanted to prove to herself that she could feel something for another. 

It’d taken a year for anything more to happen. Arin had easily sensed that Hyunjin’s mind had been elsewhere. She’d refused to be a “complete substitute”. 

And now, Hyunjin could say that she wasn’t escaping something—someone. Even if she missed those moments from before, she didn’t always think about her. 

Arin hummed. “Five minutes, remember?”

Hyunjin pulled her back. 

“Arin!” a voice called. “Get over here.”

With a chuckle, she broke away. “Told you.”

Hyunjin didn’t know why it was so disappointing. She didn’t feel as cold as before, thankfully, but she wanted more. 

“I’ll see you later.” Arin smiled. 

Her absence was more pronounced than before. Hyunjin’s chest grew heavy with loneliness. 

She knew it was the darkness that emphasised those feelings. She knew it made her feel worse. 

She also knew that the darkness built on things that already existed. 

Hyunjin fought a sigh and turned her attention back to the moon. 

_______

“You know, recovery also comes with rest,” Jinsoul said. She tried not to dwell on Jungeun’s attire for her training. She’d abandoned a shirt completely, having only a band secured around her chest. 

“Should also mean keeping fit,” Jungeun shot back. “Wanna join?” She held up a sword. It was made of metal. 

Jinsoul walked over and took it. The thing was much heavier than moonlight. 

She grimaced. “You’re straining muscles you should not be using before.”

Jungeun laughed. She flexed her arm, further defining the muscles there. “When we patrol, I’m getting you a blade of your own.” 

Jinsoul gave her a look, but her heart warmed at the thought of patrolling again. “I have other defences if I don’t have the light. So do you.”

“This’s another one.” She pulled out the knife strapped to her waist. “Come on.” There was an actual spark in her eyes, one that Jinsoul wanted to keep there. 

And she wanted to say no. She really did, but she couldn’t. Not with that look. 

She hefted the blade swung. It was a terrible feeling, using such a heavy weapon. 

Jungeun ducked. Then she caught hold of Jinsoul’s wrist. The hilt of the dagger was pressed into her stomach. 

“Got you,” she whispered. 

Then they started again. Jungeun kept evading her blows, no matter if she used more of her strength or a different manoeuvre. She stuck to only swings of their blades. She wasn't using any other tactics that Jinsoul knew she had. It was just something to train Jinsoul using a proper sword. 

When Jinsoul had first gone to see Jungeun’s old clan, they’d been excited to see her and Yerim. Jungeun had gushed about the both of them. In turn, Jungeun’s family and friends had boasted that the Astra would never have a fighter like Jungeun. Her father had, in later visits, told Jinsoul that Jungeun had trained to move with ease, no matter what injury or weight she was carrying. As fast as a flame, he’d said. Pride had emanated from his entire being. 

He’d described her perfectly. 

When Jinsoul took one step, Jungeun had made two. It didn’t matter that Jinsoul had much more light than she did or that her heart was free of darkness. Even if Jungeun was cold and her thoughts were heavy with the past, she could fight with ease. 

The only advantage Jinsoul had was how she used that one step. Jungeun usually did something without thinking. It usually worked. 

Jinsoul stepped back when Jungeun lunged. She used the flat of the blade to trip her. 

Jungeun stumbled and then fell. Normally, she was able to right herself. 

Jinsoul dropped her sword and went to her side. Despite the sweat on her brow, Jungeun’s skin was only lukewarm. 

“That’s enough now.” Jinsoul grabbed her own waterskin and handed it to her. “You overdid it.”

She chuckled. “But it was fun.” Her hand found Jinsoul’s. “I missed this.” She let go before going to get her top. Thankfully.

That made frowning at Jungeun really difficult. “So did I,” Jinsoul admitted.

That was another thing. Jinsoul knew Jungeun wasn’t ready for anything, but so often there were moments where Jungeun became extremely sentimental. Even more than she was. One of her old friends had called her emotionally stunted. Jinsoul preferred calling her slow.

And occasionally incredibly withdrawn. 

“See why I’ll make you train with a sword?” Jungeun took a long drink. 

“Not yet.” Jinsoul elbowed her. “But after a week of it, maybe.”

Jungeun grinned. There was something off there. Jinsoul couldn't pinpoint what it was. Was the smile too wide? Or did her eyes just not join in enough? 

“I know you’ve,” she glanced at the sword, “needed it” Jungeun had had a lot of battles in her life, a lot more than she had, even though Jinsoul was older. She also knew that some of the battles haunted her. 

At the very least, Jungeun slept better now. 

Jungeun shrugged once, before the corner of her lip tugged up. “But it doesn’t hurt to be good at it, especially when you’re hiding this.” She waved at the moon. 

“Okay,” Jinsoul squeezed her hand, “but only when you’re better.” She pressed a chunk of moonlight into her hand. “Because you really should be taking it easy.”

Jungeun held her gaze then. “An hour a night?” 

“Half.”

She sighed. “Alright.”

Jinsoul smiled. “That’s it?” Another thing she both loved and found infuriating: Jungeun’s stubbornness was never consistent. 

“Don’t push it. I’ll rebel.”

“And I’ll stop you.”

Jungeun laughed. “You’re the warm one now.” She moved so that her head rested on her shoulder. She was still too cold, even though there was a sheen of sweat on her skin.

Jinsoul put an arm around her. “I need you to be a furnace again.”

“I’m not that hot.”

She had to smile. “You are.”

A poke to her side. “But you think it’s great.”

Jinsoul pulled her closer. “I do.”

Silence. They sat like this a lot, especially in winter. Sometimes, Yerim was with them, other times it was just the two of them. They’d either talk or just sit. 

“I’m not complaining, but what happened to your other patients?”

“You’re the last of the night,” Jinsoul said. “And I have tomorrow off.” She didn’t mention that she was planning to go on patrol. It would’ve ruined the moment. A part of her also didn’t want to let go of Jungeun for a while. 

“How’s Yerim?” Jungeun asked.

“She can drink moonlight water. Her eyes are still really sensitive to it, but that’s it.” In worser cases, people couldn’t even touch it. It could burn them fully. And sometimes the poisoned light spread. 

Jinsoul pushed that from her thoughts. Yerim wasn’t anywhere close to that. 

Jungeun looked up. “She’ll be okay.” Her expression was firm, but Jinsoul knew she was as worried as she was. 

She nodded. She found herself looking at the darkness still in Jungeun’s heart. It hadn’t let go yet. The rest was almost completely gone, but not the one within her. 

“Hey.” Jungeun shifted so that she was kneeling at her side. Jinsoul missed the contact, so she grabbed her hand. “Yerim’s okay. The others’ll get better. You got Soyeon fully cured and whatever I have’ll be gone soon too.”

“It should’ve been gone by now.” Jinsoul said that quietly. She never told others if progress was slow. They usually got too worried. And that just made it worse. 

Jungeun didn’t look worried. She just smiled. “This wasn’t the usual type of darkness,” she said softly. “Not from a spirit, but a person. Maybe that just takes a little longer.”

And if it doesn’t go away? The question was still there: was it dangerous? Or would it just mean that Jinsoul was the one who had to keep Jungeun warm—that Jungeun’s eyes looked more like blood and less like rubies?

“It’ll be okay,” Jungeun said. “I feel better than I did yesterday and I’ll feel even better tomorrow.” A pause. She was hesitating. “And when you came over to spar, I started feeling even better. Not that cold anymore.”

Slowly, so much so that Jinsoul could watch the movement, Jungeun lifted her hand to Jinsoul’s face. Her thumb brushed across her forehead, going to the space between her eyebrows. It rested just above her scar. 

“You keep frowning at me,” Jungeun muttered. 

“I’m worried about you,” Jinsoul admitted. 

She shook her head. “You don’t have to.”

She was about to retort, but she was pulled into Jungeun’s arms before she could reply. 

“It’ll be okay.” A small pause. “I know this won’t mean much, but neither Yerim or Jiwoo are all that scared for me. And even if I didn’t know that, I’d still be saying I’ll be okay.”

Jungeun shifted again. Now she was sitting, while Jinsoul was half in her arms, half lying on the ground. It was surprisingly comfortable. 

“Do you believe me?” Jungeun asked. She tilted her head and Jinsoul saw a familiar, yet rare vulnerability. Jungeun wanted Jinsoul to have faith in her. To trust her. She did, but that wasn’t what mattered here. Jinsoul couldn’t lie to Jungeun. 

And she wouldn’t. “I want to,” she said. “But we don’t know, not the seers, not you, and not me. It’s nothing we’ve ever seen before.”

“But you can’t act like you know it’ll get worse,” Jungeun said softly. 

“I’m not,” Jinsoul said. “And you can’t tell me you’re completely sure you’ll be okay. I want you to be okay, of course I do, but I’m not sure you will be.” I can’t risk that. 

Another soft smile. It was a new sight, but Jinsoul liked seeing it. “You’re right. No one knows, but that doesn’t mean we can’t hope for the best.”

“It’s not that.” Jinsoul sat up. “But us not knowing doesn’t make me feel that confident.”

Jungeun just nodded. After a few seconds, she said, “you’re doing all you can, you know.” She took her hand again. “And all we can do is wait and see how it goes.”

Jinsoul called on the light. She let it warm her skin before sending a fair amount to Jungeun. 

She frowned and started to pull away. 

Jinsoul just held her hand tighter. “I have the day off, remember?” And you’re still cold. 

Her brow was still furrowed. 

So Jinsoul smoothed it out as well.

Jungeun dropped her eyes then. She was looking at the ground. 

Jinsoul wished she’d bring them back up. Neither of them were leaning away, but they weren’t doing anything else either. Jinsoul wished one of them would. 

Was it unfair that she wanted Jungeun to do something? Selfish? Both?

Jungeun leaned back then, a tiny sigh leaving her. “Should we go give Yerim dinner?”

“I told Yeojin to do it.” 

She raised a brow. “Do they get along now?”

“Not sure.” Jinsoul shrugged. “But she hasn’t gone to her once. It’s about time they talk.”

Jungeun smirked. “I feel like you have a plan.”

She winked. “We’ll find out.” She knew Yerim had nothing against her, but also that Yeojin had somehow developed some sort of grudge. She had no idea why. 

“So it’s just us.” Jungeun got to her feet. She stepped away, but didn’t let go of Jinsoul’s hand. At least there was that. 

“Just us.”

Chapter Text

Fifty Years Ago

Olivia stared up at the grey sky. The clouds weren’t clearing. It would rain soon. 

So much of her hurt. There was a numbness to her body, one that made her doubtful she’d be able to move soon. The base of the bars dug into her back, her skin only somewhat protected by her clothes. The restraints around her legs and arms were still there, still digging into her skin, still burning her. 

They were going to banish her. All but seven had said she had no place with them. She was lucky they hadn’t voted to kill her. 

But maybe they still wanted that. If not by their own hand, then by that of the spirits in the forest. Their homes were always surrounded by benevolent spirits. They'd attack her. What had been undeniably good in the world would now want her dead. 

And there was a high chance they'd succeed. She was still bleeding from her wounds. Her body held black blood that no longer smelled metallic to her, but somehow sweet and dark at the same time. She could hardly pinpoint it, but it twisted her stomach. 

Although it hurt even more, Olivia turned her head. She saw how they had returned to business. People were either in their tents, likely sleeping until the first part of the night came, or they were around a fire, talking. Somehow, it was worse than seeing how they had stood around her, watching as she’d bled. 

She was at the edge of the camp. They didn’t think she could escape. What mattered was that she was safely barred away from them. She wanted nothing more than to prove them wrong. 

She kept watching the people who were her family. Did they still count as such? If she was an exile, then that wasn’t the case. Jinsoul, Jungeun and Yerim were considered family, but they hadn’t been born into the Astra. Olivia had been. And now they’d thrown her away. 

Olivia looked to the ground. It was darker around her, despite the cage. She saw the shadows. The grass had turned yellow beneath her, some of it holding traces of rot. How often had she been told to try and find the moonlight? How often had it never worked? It was so clear why now. 

She would still have time until the moon reached its height. Maybe she'd find a way how to escape before then. 

A part of her doubted whether or not they'd actually set her free. Would they kill her? If they really thought she was such a danger, then it'd be wiser to have her killed. 

Out of all the things that had been thrown out of certainty, she could still cling to one thing: she didn't want to die. 

Olivia called to the shadow as though it were a friend. 

I need help, she thought, reaching for it with her mind as they’d been taught. 

She couldn't believe her eyes when the shadows wandered over to her. It must have been a trick of the light. Perhaps the moon had grown aware of her intentions. Perhaps it was letting its light dance around in ways to toy with her. 

Or she was actually controlling the shadows. 

She let them pool beneath her, joining her existing shadow. It felt as if water was underneath her, soaking into her clothes and cooling the skin that had been burned by the light. 

Looking down at her feet, she forced the larger shadow to move towards her bound ankles. The pain in her back and arms returned, but that in her legs faded. She pulled on the shadow, trying to get it to move up the bindings of light. It felt like she was trying to pick something up that was much heavier than her. 

Bit by bit, the restraints darkened. She realised she only needed to coat the base of the restraints enough. There was a low crackling noise, as though the light were being scraped at by shadow. No, the shadows were destroying it. 

Olivia tested the strength, wincing as the restraints burned untouched skin. The light gave way and with a small crack, she'd freed her legs. 

She turned to be fully on her back, feigning exhaustion for anyone who might have been watching. She realised that was unnecessary, because there was no one there. That had to mean there was at least a hint of shame within them. They didn't want to see her bloodied state. It would remind them that they'd hurt her and however justified they felt her banishment was, even Olivia couldn't deny that the Astra had good in them. It just hadn't been enough. 

The shadow crept towards her arms, soothing the skin again. Olivia brought it up again. She pulled continuously on the restraints with her hands, biting back a cry as the skin broke. Was that sound her blood sizzling? 

Then the tension broke. The chains of light fell away. Her arms were free, but she held them together still, just as she did her legs. From afar, she’d still be trapped. 

With those two bursts of success, Olivia felt drained. She wanted to close her eyes, but if someone found her as she did, they’d easily bind her again. Whatever she’d done—absorb, destroy, or ward away the light—it would only encourage them to kill her. 

Now she needed to create a weak point in the cage. Then she’d run. If enough had gone to their tents, perhaps she could take some food with her. 

No. Haseul had deliberately given her food without moonlight. All that she could find in the camp would have moonlight. It would only worsen what she faced now and to take away the light in the food would be a waste of her energy. 

Olivia closed her eyes, wondering if the darkness behind her lids would have any help. It had always soothed her, but was that only because she’d always had an affinity for the darkness?

Nothing she’d solve now. 

She hoped her strength would remain. She called on the shadow from the tree closest to her. It came. 

She forced it to the bars just by her feet, leaving some room so that the cage wouldn’t cut her when she left it. There would be a greater distance for it to rise, but she’d be able to push against it. She’d also have to crawl out. 

The cracking noise was louder now. The bars were strong. She hoped no one would rouse and come to see it. She wasn’t strong enough for a fight. She was barely prepared to run. She didn’t know where she’d go, but there was no reason she could stay.

She shifted so that her feet were on the place where she intended to break the bars. One small push had a segment crumble. 

Rain began to fall. Some fell on her face. While more would retreat, she knew of one who’d emerge. Would she come as well? Did Olivia want her to? She’d believed Gowon would come, but she hadn’t. And she hadn’t stopped there. What if the same was the case for Jinsoul?

Olivia pushed harder, keeping an eye on the elves still outside. They didn’t look her way once. Their conflicts about today would serve her well. 

More of the cage fell away. Olivia looked down. It still wasn’t large enough. 

The rain fell harder now. 

She pushed the shadows to rise further. They were weakening. The clouds had darkened. Would it storm today as well?

That gave her pause. She was relying on what the light could provide: shadow. What about what was always there when the light did not come? She’d been named a darkness-wielder. Could she?

Olivia looked to the forest that seemed to end a small ways away. The branches and leaves were laid so densely that little light ever came through. That was unwanted by the Astra, but what about her? 

I need you, Olivia thought, calling on the space absent of the most light. It had to work. Shadows responded to her with some resistance. 

Then she felt it. The cold that set itself deep into her heart. It hurt, but not as much as the light cutting into her skin did. She pulled. The darkness surged towards her. 

In the next moment, they encased the cage. The light vanished. Then the darkness flowed into Olivia’s skin, cooling her further. The burning had vanished, but the pain still remained. The darkness did not heal. 

Olivia wanted nothing more than to enjoy her freedom, but she was still in the camp. 

She rushed towards a tree whose shadow she hadn’t taken. This was the reason why she’d found it easy to hide as a child. This was the reason why she’d been exceptional at surprise assaults during hunts. She hoped it would prevail now when it came to hiding from her people. 

Not your people, Olivia thought. 

For a moment, a very dark thought crossed her mind. She was no longer one of them. They had chosen to banish her. They viewed her as a monster already. 

So what if she proved them right? She could send the darkness onto them, charging at them as those spirits had her. She could make them afraid. She could hurt them as they had her. 

Olivia found the darkness within her very easily. It didn’t feel foreign to her, but normal. Cold, but familiar. Could she make it into a blade? She wondered how it would feel. Light burned her so what would the darkness do to them?

No. Trying that would exhaust her further. She needed to save her strength. 

And not all of them had wanted her gone. Seven people were a small fraction of their family, but there were seven nonetheless. And most hadn’t voted to have her executed. She hadn't looked who else had voted for death, but she had seen the votes of three. Those three had wanted her gone, but not dead. 

Olivia clenched her fists. The darkness within her seemed to excite at the thought of getting her revenge. It curled beneath her skin. She could feel it. She almost saw how it wrapped around three throats, slowly tightening. 

She flexed her hands and shook her head. That was why she needed to turn away. If she went back, she'd get what she wanted, but she'd also die in the process. 

And she wanted to live.  

But what would happen when she learned more about the darkness? Would she come back then? Or would she remain as far away as she could? She didn’t know. 

Instead of walking further into the camp, Olivia turned. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a pale-haired figure emerge from their tent. She didn’t spare them another thought. 

The darkness in her blood had strengthened her as she’d always wished the light would. Now it would take her further from the light than she’d ever been. 

Olivia ran. 

The forest was silent. If someone had seen her, they hadn’t raised the alarm. She was free. 

______

Gowon couldn’t look away. The white bars held jagged veins of black. The grass had turned yellow and ash grey. The bark of the trees had turned black. The air smelled of rot and snow. 

“This is what her magic can do,” Freya said softly. Everyone could still hear it. “It destroys our light and rots what life it touches.” She looked at Gowon then, her golden eyes kind. 

She looked away. What had happened here, it hadn’t been to destroy or cause decay. It’d been to escape a prison that Gowon had helped send her to. 

“Send out groups of seven,” said Yuol. “Have them branch off of where the trail ends.” 

People dispersed. Some looked eager. 

Gowon felt sick watching it. Then her stomach twisted further. How was she any better? What did how she felt now matter? 

When Hyejoo had turned, something in Gowon’s chest had snapped, before she’d felt it shatter. She hadn’t even been able to scream. She’d just collapsed. Her head had begun to hurt soon after. 

Memories had flooded her mind. Memories of a spirit who’d killed an elf where he’d stood, mauling him with intangible claws, tainting his skin with a dark grey light. Memories of the fairies who’d taken her parents from her, filling their eyes with red, as anger overcame them. They hadn't stopped screaming. Not until their own people had been forced to end their suffering. 

Their screams had filled her ears again. Gowon had pressed her hands to her ears, but the sounds had only gotten louder. And one of her hands had been freezing cold. 

She didn’t know how long she’d been trapped in the past. She didn’t know why the pain hadn’t subsided, only that it’d come from Hyejoo. 

And then it had all cleared. The memories had faded completely, though the sounds had still rung faintly in her ears. 

She’d been bathed in light, one threaded with lavender. Eline. 

“It’s alright,” the seer had murmured. Warm arms had encircled Gowon. They’d almost been too warm, but Gowon had still leaned into the touch. “You’re safe now.”

The words had been exactly what she’d wanted to hear then. Thinking on them now, Gowon wondered why she’d said she was safe. The memories hadn’t been a danger. They’d only hurt. 

Gowon wanted to drown in those memories now. They’d been things she hadn’t been able to control. She hadn’t caused that pain. It’d been forced onto her. 

This was her fault. She’d raised her hand. She’d stayed silent when she should’ve roared out her protest. She should’ve broken those white bars. 

Gowon turned away from the broken cage. She was met with furious pink eyes. “You even think about looking for her,” Heejin whispered, her voice trembling with fury. “I’ll—” She was pulled back. 

Hyunjin stood at her side, a silent plea in her eyes. Her hand gripped Heejin’s, the skin glowing gently. 

Gowon just stepped back. She didn't look away from Heejin. She forced herself to hold the gaze of someone who hated her. She had to see it.

Someone else took her hand then. 

“We’re not going anywhere,” Jiwoo said. There was no brightness in her voice, nor warmth in her eyes. The others would think she was being callous. It was far from the truth. 

Jiwoo had been with Eline, as had Sooyoung. They’d held her while she’d told Eline what’d happened. They’d comforted her as Eline had told her what Hyejoo had become. She'd told them that whatever parts of Hyejoo that were still good would fade with time. That the darkness would fester within her mind, within her soul. 

She’d told them that Hyejoo’s path was only dark. That it would only bring darkness: fear, hatred, and death. 

Even if that was right, Gowon should've never believed it. Even if she had believed it, she should’ve fought for Hyejoo. She should’ve defended her. 

She’d done none of those things. It was Gowon’s fault that Hyejoo had been put behind bars. It was her fault that she’d been burned by those restraints. It was her fault that she’d been hurt by those spirits.

And it was her fault that Hyejoo was gone. 

Something tore within her chest. She fought a cry and covered her mouth to stifle it. 

Someone’s hand reached for hers and they came to stand in front of her. “It’s okay.”

Gowon shoved them away. “No, it’s not.” She didn’t look at Sooyoung and kept walking. The pain was still there, but it wasn’t getting worse. She almost wished it would. 

Sooyoung didn’t leave her side. Gowon was grateful that she was there, but she didn’t want to say a word about what was happening. 

She went to their tent. When she saw the fourth bedroll, her legs gave out. 

Sooyoung caught her. Gowon didn’t push her away. 

A cry left her. 

Another set of arms joined. 

Jiwoo murmured reassurances as she sobbed. 

Sooyoung’s skin was warm. She was summoning light. It seeped into Gowon’s own skin, warming her. 

“No one can hear,” Sooyoung said. Her voice was shaky. “You can even scream if you wanted to.” 

Gowon didn’t reply. She just leaned her head onto Sooyoung’s shoulder. The tears didn’t stop. Nor did the trembling. 

And the only thing she saw was Hyejoo, bloodied and pleading. She heard her screams when the spirits had attacked her. 

“It’s my fault.” 

“It’s mine,” Sooyoung muttered. “I didn’t realise what we were doing, I—”

“It was the three of us,” Jiwoo cut her off. She pulled away, making the two of them look at her. Her gaze was teary, but unyielding. “It wasn’t one or the other. I could’ve said something, Sooyoung could’ve said something, but we didn’t.” She took Gowon’s hand in hers. “But it wasn’t just you.” She blinked once, trying to keep in the tears of her own eyes. “It was me too.”

The three of them sat there for a long time. Long enough for Gowon’s body to grow heavy, but not long enough for the pain to fade. She felt how Sooyoung had also started to sag. After what felt like hours, Jiwoo was the one to pull away again. 

“I’ll bring something to eat,” she said. “Then I think it’s time to go sleep.” She gave the both of them a very weak smile. 

Even then, Gowon knew it was genuine. Jiwoo was trying for them in the best way she knew. 

Once she was gone, that left Sooyoung and Gowon. 

And a fourth bedroll. Beside it lay two swords in leather scabbards. 

Gowon felt a part of her break. It wasn’t even a part of the pain she was already feeling. 

Sooyoung had seen where she was looking. 

“I’ll get rid of it.” She let go of Gowon and went over. She started rolling up the bedroll. Her movements weren’t fluid, not like how they always were. Her shoulders were stiff and she fumbled with the furs. Her hands were shaking. 

Gowon watched as she reached for the swords. 

She snatched them back. The leather was soft beneath her touch. The blades were heavy in her hands. She held them close to her chest. 

Sooyoung looked up, her eyes full of pain, but slowly filling with confusion. “We can try selling those.”

Gowon couldn’t speak. She just shook her head. 

“Don’t tell me you’re keeping them.” Sooyoung’s grip on Hyejoo’s bedroll tightened. 

The cold hilt of one sword pressed into her shoulder. It was uncomfortable, but Gowon didn’t adjust her hold on it. 

Hyejoo had trained with these blades. She’d sparred with Gowon with them. She’d taken on spirits with them. Gowon had been with her almost every time she’d used them. 

“I’ll do it,” she got out. “I’ll take them to town tomorrow.” 

Sooyoung looked at her for a moment too long. Then she relaxed. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

Sooyoung left the tent. Gowon sat there with bedrolls and two swords. Alone. 

She blinked, but no tears fell. Her eyes ached. Her chest still felt as if it’d been cleaved in two. Her stomach had twisted itself twice over. 

Gowon went to her bed. She tucked the swords underneath the first fur, before settling beneath them. She could’ve cleaned her teeth. She could’ve changed. She was still wearing what she’d worn when the darkness had come to Hyejoo. When she’d lost her. 

When you gave her up, Gowon told herself. 

Jiwoo came back before Sooyoung did. She set down a steaming bowl of soup in Gowon’s lap and gently forced her to eat. While Sooyoung was technically the authority, Gowon had often found herself listening more to Jiwoo than she did the former. If the bright smile fell away, one paid even more attention to the peach-eyed elf. That smile was there even if Jiwoo got hurt. It only ever fell away if she was in agony or when things were well past her own limits. Gowon knew this was a time of all those things. 

And yet Jiwoo still looked at her with warmth in her eyes. She even held a cup of tea to Gowon’s lips, one where the temperature didn’t burn, but still warmed. 

Had Gowon had any energy left, she would’ve pulled Jiwoo into a tight embrace. 

But the moment the bowl was empty and Jiwoo turned to check if Sooyoung was eating, Gowon fell back to the furs. She reached for the hilts of Hyejoo’s swords. They’d grown warmer. 

And when Gowon closed her eyes, she saw Hyejoo right before the darkness came. She saw her wide eyes filling with fear as she told her to go. She hadn’t wanted Gowon to have any part of what was happening to her. She’d known it was coming. And she’d wanted to protect her. 

But what had Gowon done in return?

Her eyes grew heavy. She grew cold again, despite how Jiwoo and Sooyoung were keeping the tent warm with sigils and moonlight. The memories returned. 

Except this time, she heard only one person screaming. There was only one loved one she watched get hurt. 

Gowon woke to something being wound around her hands. She gasped. Her legs were already bound. Her eyes were covered. On her tongue was a gently sweet taste. When she swallowed, it became nauseating. Something from Choerry's many mixtures. 

She tried to move away, but someone held her down. 

There was a similar struggle happening beside her. Jiwoo. And if the muffled cursing was anything to go on, Sooyoung was also there. 

“Here,” something was stuffed into her mouth, “don’t struggle or we’ll do more.” 

She recognised that voice, but it was filled with an unfamiliar venom. Haseul. 

“Got them,” another said. Jungeun. 

Gowon was hauled to her feet. Both her ankles and wrists were bound.

She saw a bloodied figure in her mind, one with dark eyes and hair, smoking, their blood black. She’d been bound in this very way as well.

The people carrying them started running, Gowon’s feet dragged across the floor. The restraints had been tied around her tightly. She only heard the quick breathing of the person carrying her, Haseul, and the occasional hisses and curses from Sooyoung. Jiwoo was silent. 

After what seemed like ages of running, the cloth in Gowon’s mouth was ripped out. Then that around her eyes was taken away. Haseul let go of her and Gowon crashed to the ground. She was pulled up to be on her knees. 

Beside Haseul was Jungeun, as well as Heejin, whose pink eyes blazed with a terrible fury. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sooyoung spat. “You’re going to—”

“What?” Haseul glowed harshly in the darkness. “Be bound by what hurts me most, dangled as bait for a beast, and then banished?” She spread her hands. “Go on, tell them it was me. At least I got what I wanted.” 

“Which is?” Jiwoo asked softly. 

A long white staff appeared in Heejin’s hands. She swung. It cracked against Sooyoung's side. She hissed. She swung it two more times. Gowon flinched away, her shoulder stinging. The ropes around her wrists rubbed against the skin. 

“So what happened?” Jungeun knelt in front of her. Her red eyes bored into Gowon’s. “She comes to you, terrified of what’s happening to her, and you go straight to Freya?” She tilted her head. The air around Gowon grew hot. “Did you knock her out and tell them where you left her? Did you bind her in moonlight and see how it hurt her?” 

Her skin began to burn. “The darkness overcame her." Gowon closed her eyes. “She ran off, taking all the light around her.” She remembered wanting to hold her, but not daring to. She’d run away instead. "But then it got me. I didn't go after her. Eline found me."

A hand gripped her chin. Their grip was painful. “Look at me.” 

Gowon opened her eyes, seeing bright pink eyes instead of red. 

“Did you know what would happen? Did you know they’d treat her like a monster?” Heejin asked. “It would’ve been easy to keep her hidden. She would've had a chance to leave unharmed.” She narrowed her eyes. “Did you know?”

“Leave her alone," Sooyoung snapped. “She was claimed by the darkness. Helping her would've been dangerous.”

“Dangerous to you!” Haseul snapped. “That was the reason, wasn’t it? You didn’t want to be marked as sympathetic to her. You knew she’d be condemned and you didn’t want to be shunned as well?” 

“You saw exactly what we did,” the other replied. “She corrupted a spirit. The darkness is in her blood.”

Gowon didn't know why she was saying this. Sooyoung didn't believe Hyejoo was evil. Was she provoking them?

“And I’m more likely to hurt you than she is.” Haseul’s staff sharpened at the tip. “She could've taken her revenge on the ones who wronged her. When she escaped, she had exactly that opportunity.” 

“She was injured,” Sooyoung shot back. “She wouldn’t have gotten far with that.” 

“Or,” Jungeun started, “if you’re right about her corrupting other spirits, she could've sent them on you. I don’t think that requires a lot of control, only anger.” Her red eyes glittered. 

“So what will you do now?” Jiwoo asked. “Do what you think she should’ve done?” The words were accusatory, but Gowon only saw the tears in the other’s eyes. 

“I just want you to feel a sliver of what she did,” Haseul said. “Where the people you loved turned against you and where no one defended you when you were in danger.” She went around each of them. When she got to Gowon, she tightened the restraints. “I don’t expect you to be sorry. You're going to stand by whatever decision you made,” she said in her ear. “Because if you turn around and plead with me, telling me you didn’t mean what you did, I'm not going to listen.” 

Gowon shuddered. Haseul had always been so warm, so supportive. 

“You can’t leave us here,” Sooyoung said. “If taking us here was going to get you punished, this will get you killed.”

Heejin shoved her. Her anger had caused her to glow. The light curled from her skin. “Then you’re facing the same thing Hyejoo is at this exact moment.”

“You’re lucky we haven’t added bait.” Jungeun’s eyes were cold. 

The three left. 

“They can’t do this,” Sooyoung was shifting, “we’re too exposed.” 

Gowon tried to summon what little light she could. It was too difficult. Only a few flakes fell away from her. 

This was the cost of what they’d done. Of what she’d done. 

“They have done this,” Jiwoo said softly. “You saw the look in their eyes.”

“Outrage,” Sooyoung shot back. She lost her balance, her hands still struggling to free themselves from the restraints. “They’ll live with this for the rest of their lives.” 

Just as they would have to if they survived. Gowon didn’t believe the three would let them die. The most that would happen is that each of them would be struck by a malevolent spirit. None of the others had the cruelty to do such a thing, but they had the anger to leave them in the first place. 

But the spirits would come. They were all angry and the three of them were afraid. The moon was hidden by clouds, so little light would reach them. It was the perfect time to attack. 

______

Jungeun watched how Haseul’s eyes never left the three elves. There was a mixture of anger and guilt in her eyes. She wished she could tell her that this was well deserved. That she didn’t have to feel guilty for it. 

They were going to step in the moment a spirit appeared, leaving just enough time so that the three would know the fear of being defenceless. Then they would defend them. 

She knew that Heejin had been tempted to leave them there overnight, but even she was not filled with that much hatred. And as angry as Jungeun was, she'd never leave them here either. 

She'd watched Hyejoo escape her cage. She'd nearly gone after her. She still wished she had. Then Hyejoo wouldn't still be out there, alone and weakened. 

Two people had held her back. Yerim hadn't been responsive since Hyejoo's banishment, while Jinsoul hadn't left her side. Yerim had always felt completely at home in Jinsoul's embrace. She told Jungeun that the same applied to her, but Jungeun still had a hard time believing that. 

Jungeun pushed the thought of them out of her head. She focused on the three they'd brought out here. 

She'd seen remorse in their eyes, but there’d been different reactions. Yves had been defensive, her anger overshadowing her guilt, while Chuu had been sobered by it and Gowon had sunken into herself. 

She was confident they wouldn't tell, but she had to be prepared to face whatever would come back to them. Blood hadn’t been spilled, but they'd still brought elves into danger. 

That was why no other knew what they’d planned to do. Hyunjin would have no knowledge, nor the two youngest of their clan. Jinsoul was also oblivious. Jungeun knew she was furious, but she wondered if that anger would have led her to do something like this. It had for Jungeun. 

They heard Yves’ curses and her struggle to get free. Haseul and Heejin had worked on strengthening what little rope they had, while Jungeun had tied the knot. 

Panic was starting to enter Yves' voice. A voice in the back of Jungeun's mind reminded her it was for Gowon and Chuu. Yves wanted to keep them safe and she couldn't. 

“They’re coming,” Heejin murmured. 

Haseul nodded and dropped down. In her hands, two daggers of light grew. Jungeun made a longer blade herself and was ready to summon fire with the other hand. 

Heejin didn’t summon anything. Would she fight with them?

Together, they watched as a dark green snake emerged from the trees. Its eyes were a fiery orange. Beside it was another scaly-being, but not one that Jungeun recognised. Two at once?

The movements of the three became more desperate. Yves started to glow brighter. She’d moved in front of Chuu and Gowon. She'd take the first blows. 

From behind, another spirit pair appeared, one in the form of a spider, the other a fox. Four now. There shouldn’t have been that many. They would've sensed the presence of Jungeun and the other two. This was wrong. 

Gowon screamed, her skin glowing erratically. Her voice was filled with terror. 

Haseul let the first dagger fly. It struck the snake in the head. It contracted wildly, a pale green spreading around its body, but only slowly. 

Jungeun ran for the other two spirits. The fox had reached Gowon. She threw fire at it. The orange mixed with white stream flew through the air, curling around the spirit. It let out a sharp shriek. 

There was a sharp hiss behind her. Jungeun turned to see Heejin’s spear deep into the torso of the spider. It turned white. 

Jungeun turned back to the fox that was twisting, trying to escape the flames she’d set around it. Below it, the grass had been charred. 

She raised her sword and sank it into its heart. She took back the flames. The fox turned from black to pale yellow. The weapon dissolved. 

When she looked at Haseul, she saw her wrestling with the other scaled beast. One blade had hit its flank and its leg was a soft red. It was still trying to kill her. 

Jungeun could only able to summon a shard of moonlight. She'd expended the rest. Jungeun leapt over Yves shoved the light into its eye. It snarled and thrust its body around. Jungeun as nearly crushed. Her foot twisted oddly underneath her. She bit back a scream. Being so close to it, she could feel the rage seeping out of it. It was drawing on her own. It ached.

Yves’ voice rose above the rest. “Take it!” 

A large coil of white landed beside Jungeun. She grabbed it, letting it reform into something she could wield. She drove it into the head. She felt the light stream into the spirit. The pale red spread all throughout it. Then it moved away. Below it, Jungeun saw Haseul, blood red smoke streaming from her shoulder. Each breath was a gasp. 

Heejin was beside her in a second, eyes wide. 

“Stay still.” Her hand pressed to the wound. The glow of her skin subsided. 

Haseul sighed. The red smoke did not cease. 

Jungeun got to her feet, her ankle hardly able to sustain her. She hopped over to where the three elves still lay. All were unharmed. 

She untied their restraints. None of them attacked her. 

Chuu scrambled to Haseul. “I have more, let me.” 

“No,” Haseul said. “We have to get back. If more come, you need to defend us.” 

Heejin came up beside Jungeun and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Give us some light?” 

She nodded and let flames rise from her hand. Where the spirit had touched her, her skin stung. What had it felt like for Hyejoo? How much had it burned? The more pain there was, the more terrible she felt for not defending Hyejoo when she should have.  

The six of them walked on, divided by the actions of late and their thoughts. Haseul clung to Heejin’s other side, shivering. Her eyes lacked their glow. 

No spirit attacked them. The anger of all of them had subsided. And they weren’t afraid enough. Their group was too large as well. 

“Here,” Chuu said. “Take it.” She closed the distance between the two trios. Her hand went to Haseul’s shoulder and the glow of Chuu's skin vanished. 

Haseul breathing eased and more colour appeared in her face. She looked up at Chuu, her eyes wary, but not unkind. 

“You don’t want to thank me,” Chuu said. “So don't.” Then she went back. 

Gowon was in between them. She had a haunted look in her eyes. She still glowed softly, but there was something else Jungeun couldn't see. 

What would be in store for them now? People would notice that they were hurt. They would ask. 

This was where the other three had the chance to get back at them. They would tell the elders of what they’d done. The three of them would be punished and Jungeun wasn’t naive enough to think her penalty would be the same as the other two. She was glad Jinsoul and Yerim knew nothing. She was glad they hadn’t come. 

“Tell them it was my idea,” Haseul murmured. It was barely audible. 

Jungeun started to protest. 

“And mine,” Heejin said. “Not yours.” Her pink eyes met Jungeun’s. “You’re not taking the fall.” 

Jungeun shook her head. “Lying won't do me any good.” 

They walked on in silence. She knew the other two would try to push her away from this, but she’d wanted to do this as much as they had. They'd deserved it. Maybe that made her worse for thinking such a thing, but she had to acknowledge that. It didn't matter what happened next. 

______

Those at the periphery saw them first. They took one look at Haseul and scrambled to action. It was incredible what care they would give to those who were one of them. Once that standing was taken away, the care fell away just as quickly. 

A healer and an elder came over to them. 

“What happened, girl?” Saevel regarded her sternly. “And how did you all sneak away?” 

Warmth flowed into her shoulder. The healer, Nuala, gave her a mix of moonlight and wine to drink. Haseul did. It warmed her far more than Chuu’s light had. 

The pain still lingered. It wasn’t the first time that Haseul had been struck by a spirit, but it was the first time she’d been so conscious of how wrong it felt to be caught by one’s teeth. Her entire body seemed to reject it. She became aware of her blood and how it grew heavy in her veins. She dwelled even more on how negative thoughts and feelings became prevalent, how her anger towards the other three had strengthened, despite having been saved by one of them. 

And now that anger faded with the light. She wished it wouldn't have.

“We wanted to find spirits,” Yves said. “After what happened, we thought there’d be a disruption in the forest after that.” Her eyes were earnest as she spoke. An exceptional act. 

But why was she lying for them? 

“I—” Haseul began, but Heejin’s arm around her waist tightened.  

“Four spirits found us,” Chuu said. 

“Found you?” Saevel repeated. 

“They were bold,” she said. “And more light was needed to bring them down.” 

That was true. Even if they had left the girls to be found, they hadn’t expected so many to come, nor to be so difficult to purify. 

“It is good not more of you were hurt,” Nuala smiled at Haseul, “you were brave to go out as you did, but still foolish.” Then she moved to Jungeun. “And you were clumsy. Surprisingly." 

Jungeun looked down at the ground. To others, it would have looked sheepish. Haseul knew the girl was as confused as she was. “You could say that.” 

“If you do it again,” Saevel crossed his arms, “do it in a larger group and when the moon is in the sky.” He smiled slightly, before walking off. 

“We should get this bound.” Nuala reached for Jungeun’s arm. 

“No need,” Jungeun replied. “I need practice doing it myself.” She limped away before the healer could respond.

Nuala looked after her. “A stubborn one, isn’t she?” She frowned. “Barely ever comes with an injury.” Then, murmuring something about needing to pass on a message about how people treated their injuries, she walked off. That left Haseul and Heejin with the other three. 

Gowon still looked as though she’d seen something horrific. Haseul wanted to ask what that had been, to reach out to her, but she didn’t. Though her anger had faded, she would not forget what these three had done, and not done. She never wanted to.

Neither Yves nor Chuu said a word, they only walked away with Gowon in the centre. The two girls had wrapped their arms tightly around her. 

“Will they just tell them later?” Heejin asked quietly. 

The thought had crossed Haseul’s mind, but she’d seen it for herself. “They won’t.”

But none of them would forget what had happened tonight. Haseul wouldn’t forget that Yves and Chuu had given up their moonlight for her. She wouldn’t forget that they’d lied for them. She wouldn’t forget Gowon’s scream and how shaken she looked after.

But they also wouldn’t forget that Haseul had left them as bait for spirits.

And Haseul would never forget how they'd abandoned Hyejoo. 

______

Hyunjin looked up when the entrance to the tent opened. Jungeun wasn’t there and neither was Yerim. Only Jinsoul was, but it'd been difficult for her to fall asleep as well. They'd barely spoken to one another when they'd come into the tent. 

Heejin appeared. Her eyes were swollen and red. 

Hyunjin sat up, a small burst of panic taking hold. “What’re you doing here?” 

Jinsoul didn’t stir, but she sometimes woke up easily. And then she’d see Heejin here. Hyunjin knew that she wouldn’t tell anyone, but that wasn’t the point. 

“I,” she trailed off. “I needed to see you.” 

Hyunjin nearly told her that she could see her tomorrow just as easily. She’d recently started to realise how little time really mattered when it came to Heejin. She’d also realised that the time she’d spent away hadn’t changed anything for her.  Ignoring Heejin had been difficult since she'd come back, but not impossible. 

Except for tonight. She’d stamp out all hesitations she’d had, because Heejin needed someone there for her. Priad was for Hyejoo’s banishment. Hyunjin still didn’t understand why he’d shown his position. He should’ve known that Heejin would never turn away from someone she loved. 

“Please, Hyun,” Heejin said. Her eyes were glassy and tears were already finding their way down her face. 

Hyunjin’s stomach twisted at the sight. 

Tonight was the exception. She told herself that as she nodded. Tonight, she couldn’t turn Heejin away. After today, someone else would take the role she was taking up. Someone else would take care of Heejin, but for tonight, that someone would be Hyunjin. 

She pushed away the fur of her bedroll and shifted to the side. 

The tiny smile that got her was painful to see. This was all Heejin had wanted and Hyunjin had almost made her leave. 

Heejin laid down, facing Hyunjin. She blinked once and more tears fell. 

Before she could wipe them away, Hyunjin did it for her. They hadn’t been this close in a long time, but that didn’t make the touch strange. It just felt natural. Hyunjin’s heart plummeted at the realisation. 

She tried to ignore how Heejin leaned into her hand. She tried to ignore the tenderness in Heejin’s eyes. 

Hyunjin also didn’t take her hand away. 

“Did we let this happen?” Heejin asked. 

Hyunjin shook her head. “There weren’t enough who wanted her to stay,” she said. “We couldn’t have done anything more.” 

And if they had tried something more, all of them would’ve been pushed to the edge of the Astra. Yeojin might’ve ended up like Hyunjin, with a role they needed, but didn’t value. Jinsoul, Jungeun, and Yerim would’ve fallen even further out of favour, despite having proven themselves several times over. Haseul and Heejin might’ve lost their position as elders and the Astra would’ve been worse off for it. 

Hyunjin might’ve been banished as well, having stepped into the very role her family had been in before. She wondered if Hyojung and Seunghee would’ve let her come to them, or if they’d be banned from seeing her. There were moments where Hyunjin wanted to leave, but she almost always wanted the option to come back. Leaving forever was a prospect she could barely face. 

And it was that reality that had been thrust upon Hyejoo. 

Hyunjin felt her eyes start to burn then. She blinked that warmth away. 

It didn’t go unnoticed. 

Heejin inched closer. “It doesn’t just have to be me crying, you know.”

Hyunjin smiled and shook her head. The burning in her eyes subsided completely. She didn’t miss the flicker of hurt in the other girl’s eyes. Hyunjin hadn’t let her in, while Heejin was completely open. 

It wasn’t going to be something she amended. She’d already overstepped today when she’d not left Heejin’s side. And now she’d leapt across whatever boundary there’d been when she let Heejin stay. She could only hope that no one else had seen Heejin coming here.

“What’re you thinking?” Heejin peered over at her. 

“Nothing,” she lied. “I’m tired from the night.” That part was at least true. 

“Oh.” Her doubt was plain, but she didn’t ask any other question. Hyunjin was grateful. “Can I?” Heejin’s eyes fell to the space between them. 

Hyunjin wanted to say no. Being any closer would make everything hurt more tomorrow. 

But being further away now would make Heejin feel worse. Hyunjin too. 

So she just nodded. 

Relief appeared in Heejin’s eyes. She scooted closer. Her hand found one of Hyunjin’s and laced their fingers together. That felt natural as well. 

Hyunjin wanted to move away again. Before, when they’d been so close that she could see the delicate changes of shade in Heejin’s eyes, her own eyes would elsewhere. She’d let them wander. She couldn’t let herself do that now. 

Hyunjin found herself wishing Heejin would stop looking at her. It made everything more difficult. It made her more conscious that someone could easily walk in, looking for Jinsoul or Jungeun, and they’d see the two of them here. Nothing had happened, or would happen, but no one would know that. They’d just assume the worst. 

And they’d have good reason to. Hyunjin wasn’t looking away from Heejin either. She could’ve turned around and started to sleep. But she hadn’t done that. She hadn’t even pulled her hand away. 

“Are you leaving again?” Heejin asked. She finally looked away from Hyunjin. Now she looked at their hands. 

Hyunjin hadn’t thought of leaving in weeks. The thought wouldn’t have crossed her mind for another few weeks, maybe even months. 

And now that Heejin was thinking about it, now of all times, what was she supposed to make of that? 

“When?” Heejin’s voice had become even quieter. 

“Not for a while,” Hyunjin said. 

“Really?” Her eyes rose. Seeing the hope there was painful. It meant there was a possibility that she’d hurt Heejin by leaving multiple times in the past years. She’d left her alone for several years. 

She wasn’t alone, Hyunjin reminded herself. She’d had Haseul and the rest. She’d had Priad. 

“I’m happy you’re staying,” Heejin muttered. “So will Yerim. Yeojin too.” Then the tears started to well up again. 

Earlier, Hyunjin had been taken aback by how angry Heejin had been. Now, she hated how much pain there was. It made her light a dark silver. 

Hyunjin knew she’d regret it later. She knew she should’ve just left it where they were now. 

But Heejin was still in pain. She'd come to Hyunjin, even though she shouldn’t have. 

Hyunjin pulled Heejin closer, letting her lean her head on Hyunjin’s chest. She held her as she’d once done. In spite of everything, Hyunjin felt a burst of warmth at the familiarity. The other times she’d held someone in her arms, the other times she’d been even closer to that person than she was now, they’d never felt her feel at home. 

She felt how Heejin relaxed into her arms. 

Hyunjin was reminded her of how cruel fate could be. It made moments like these feel complete, but that sense of comfort was only ever temporary. 

“Hyun?” Heejin shifted slightly, lifting her head. Her nose brushed Hyunjin’s neck and chin. She both wanted to pull her closer and tell her to leave the tent this very minute. 

She did neither. 

She just hummed. She didn’t trust how her voice would sound. It could’ve been shaky or been too quiet, too intimate. 

“Thank you.” Heejin gazed up at her with too much care, too much warmth. 

Hyunjin couldn’t look away. 

Naturally, fate didn’t let the same thing happen to one’s thoughts and feelings. More often than not, those stayed with you for years after those moments had passed. Sometimes, fate even let them strengthen. 

“For?” Hyunjin’s voice didn’t shake. She was thankful for that at least. 

Heejin shifted again. She was close enough that Hyunjin had to resist looking elsewhere. 

“Not turning me away this time,” she said. Her eyes flicked between Hyunjin’s. 

Hyunjin could only nod. Why had she drawn Heejin into her arms? Why, when it meant a moment like this?

Heejin’s eyes fell first, finding somewhere else on her face. 

She knew exactly where she was looking. 

“Only tonight,” Hyunjin muttered. “You’re lucky no one—”

“I know,” Heejin looked back up, “no one saw me. I made sure.” 

“And what about tomorrow? If someone comes to wake Jinsoul because they need her, and they see you here?” 

“They won’t,” Heejin said. “You’ll wake up early like always, make me leave, and then we’re safe.”

Safe. The word felt wrong. 

They lay there. Heejin wasn’t looking away. Neither was Hyunjin. 

No, they weren’t safe. Hyunjin was well aware that a decision was being offered to her. Was it the moon, sending her another small burst of cruelty? Or simply fate dangling everything Hyunjin wanted, only to take it away once the sun set? 

It felt as though something were twisting in Hyunjin’s chest. It might’ve been nerves, but the way it was starting to hurt felt less likely. Was it the moon telling her there was a very wrong choice to be made? 

“Hyun,” Heejin whispered. 

Hyunjin only looked at her. She was getting lost in the bright pink gaze, in the faint scent of a campfire and a stronger one of flowers. When had Heejin last done anything with flowers? Was it with the children? For some reason, Yuqi and Shuhua loved to make bouquets. 

“Breathe.” 

Hyunjin did. Then her eyes fell as well. 

It would be so easy. And she knew how natural it would feel. She knew how happy they’d both be in this moment. If she just leaned in—

Hyunjin forced her gaze to move away. 

Heejin’s own gaze was fixed on hers. There were the beginnings of hope there, but also doubt. The message was clear. Your choice. 

So Hyunjin closed her eyes. “Sleep well.” 

It was barely there, but Heejin sighed. “Sleep well.” Her head nestled back into Hyunjin’s chest. She’d no doubt feel her pounding heart and that’d be alright. 

Hyunjin had made her choice. She’d have to live with this one just as she had the rest. 

What she hated most was how easy it would’ve been. No one might’ve known what’d happened and she might’ve been able to make Heejin smile. She would’ve been able to smile as well. 

Soon enough, she felt the leftover tension ease in Heejin, while her breath evened out. Asleep in within minutes. Like always. 

Hyunjin wanted to sleep as well. She was tired. 

But her mind was flooded with thoughts of the person in her arms. The prospect that someone could walk in this very second or before Hyunjin woke up terrified her. How quickly would the news reach Priad? Or the elders? And what would that mean for Heejin? Blatantly ignoring the moon and the person you were bound to, it didn’t happen. 

Except for now. 

Hyunjin’s mind could’ve spiralled for that reason alone. Half a century of the bond hadn’t changed anything. Leaving for several years hadn’t changed it either. 

She’d seen the proof of that in Heejin’s eyes. She’d felt it as well. 

Hyunjin fought a sigh. She’d said she wasn’t leaving any time soon. She wouldn’t. She needed to be there for those most affected by Hyejoo’s banishment. She needed to be there for Yeojin, Yerim, and Heejin. After they’d recovered, maybe she would leave. Not just for five years, but longer. Maybe a century this time. 

That’d have to change something. Anything. She needed it to. 

_______

Jungeun sighed as she sank down to the ground. She set about binding her ankle. She felt so drained. She’d used too much moonlight too quickly. The conjuring of flames hadn’t helped much either. At least she was used to this. 

Still, she let the embers of the fire pit burn a bit brighter. She didn’t put any light there, but she didn’t need to. All she needed now was the warmth. 

“Where’ve you been?” 

Jungeun jumped. The movement tugged badly at her ankle. She hissed. 

Jinsoul’s eyes were wide and very much awake. Had she been waiting? Or could she just not sleep. Jungeun could barely blame her if it was the latter. 

“Out,” Jungeun replied. 

“Gathered as much.” She walked over to where Jungeun sat and knelt beside her. “Were you going to let this heal on its own?” Blue eyes had turned stern. 

“Nuala was gonna do the same,” Jungeun angled her ankle away, “and the natural healing doesn’t take that long.”

She snorted. “If the comparison is humans, then yes.” She placed her hand on Jungeun’s knee. “Don’t be stubborn.” 

That made her smile. She pulled her leg away. It hurt, but that was fine. 

Jinsoul gave her a look. “I’ll just do it while you sleep.” 

Jungeun chuckled. “You make it sound like a threat.”

“It might be.” She winked. Then her eyes grew serious. “How’d it happen?”

“Misjudged something. Couldn’t hold my own weight,” Jungeun grumbled. She reached for a waterskin and began to drink. She closed her eyes, sighing. 

“You were fighting.” It wasn’t a question. 

Jungeun didn’t reply. She just closed the cap to the water and set it down. Jinsoul was already making a healing sigil. With her other hand, she took the waterskin from Jungeun. 

“Please tell me you didn’t try to find Hyejoo,” Jinsoul said. “I want her to be safe just as much as you do, but she’ll be too far away now.” The muscles around her eyes tightened. 

She knew that look. 

“I wasn’t looking for her,” Jungeun squeezed her arm, “I just had to get out.”

“Alone,” Jinsoul looked at her, “on a cloudy night.” She finished the sigil. 

Warmth shot up her foot. Then water was flowing out of the skin. It wrapped around Jungeun’s ankle in a graceful arc. Compared to the warmth from the sigil, it was cool. It soothed the pain immediately. 

“And that,” Jungeun began, “is why you’re the best of both worlds.” 

Jinsoul could heal others, as well as fight. Jungeun could only fight and destroy. Why she earned more praise than the blue-eyed elf was beyond her. It was ridiculous. 

She saw her fight a smile. “Well, the best of both worlds has to keep the other one in good condition,” Jinsoul said. “Which means no lying.” A flicker of hurt appeared. 

“I have to wait until I tell you,” Jungeun said. “I don’t know when it’ll be fine to say anything like that yet.” If she told Jinsoul now and Yves, Chuu or Gowon changed their minds about lying for them, then the other girl would certainly try to defend her. That would just drag Jinsoul into their mess. The less she knew now, the better. 

The hurt on her face remained. 

“I,” Jungeun hated to see that expression, “I’m putting a lot of trust in people who haven’t earned it.” In fact, they’d forfeited it completely. 

“Oh.” The hurt was replaced by confusion, then concern. “Did you do something stupid?”

Jungeun laughed, but her mouth was covered by Jinsoul’s hand in the next moment. “Not stupid,” she said, her voice now muffled. “Maybe short-sighted.” 

Blue eyes bored into her own. She was struck by how much they looked like sapphires. She’d seen rulers wear them, so she knew well what those looked like. Yet Jinsoul’s were brighter than that. More beautiful too.

Jungeun looked away. 

“Three days,” Jinsoul muttered. “And then you tell me what you did. Or else.” She dropped her hand, grabbed Jungeun’s, before pulling her up. They went into the tent. 

To her surprise, she saw that Hyunjin wasn’t alone. They were just sleeping. One of them looked an awful lot like Heejin. 

Jungeun looked away. That wasn’t any of her business. 

Yerim was huddled at the far end of the tent, arms wrapped around her torso. She faced away from them. Jungeun could only hope she'd been able to fall asleep. 

She didn't react when they'd come in. 

Jinsoul pulled her to one end. 

“My bed’s over there.” Jungeun pointed. 

“You’re with me tonight,” she replied. “You’re freezing.” She all but collapsed on the furs. Her arms opened. “Come on.” 

Had she not lacked warmth in her body, Jungeun would’ve blushed. Simple things like this now made her stomach flip. They hadn’t been this close in a while because of how uncomfortable it made her. Jinsoul was starting to notice. 

Jungeun gave in, lying a good distance away. 

Jinsoul closed it, an arm going around her. “Whatever you did, you overdid it,” she whispered. “Don’t do something like that again.” 

Jungeun wanted to tell her of the way the spirits had gotten stronger. That it was very likely she’d be doing something like that again. She had to. It required a lot of light and magic. Jungeun had both. 

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” Jungeun replied. 

“And?” Jinsoul raised a brow. 

“Can’t promise you anything, except that I’ll tell you about it in three days.” 

The other elf sighed and pulled Jungeun closer to her. “You better.”

She tried to ignore how much she enjoyed being back in Jinsoul’s arms. She tried to ignore how her heart raced. 

She failed. 

Chapter Text

Seeing Heejin and Viian walk back together was surprising. That it’d been so soon was also unexpected. 

Haseul didn’t spot any corrupt light or injury on Viian. Nothing big at least. 

“Any news?” Heejin asked. She looked more tired than angry. 

She shook her head. “But Jungeun’s getting better. The light in Yerim hasn’t spread either.” 

Soon enough, she saw the unspoken question. 

“Nothing else changed,” Haseul said. 

Heejin deflated. “Okay,” she looked between then, “I need to, uh, check on something.” She hurried off then. 

Haseul was torn between going after her and letting her be. Heejin’s love for Hyunjin was unwavering, for better or for worse. 

Viian was looking at her expectantly. When am I going to have other jobs?” she asked. “Today was my first partial guard duty.”

“Tonight,” Haseul corrected. “Today, you’ll be asleep. 

Vivi rolled her eyes. The corners of her lips had tugged up. 

“But you can start tomorrow or the night after, if you need rest.” Haseul starting walking to her tent. Vivi was close behind. “We need the people.”

Viian chuckled. “So I’m able to join that soon?” 

Haseul poked her side. “You managed a few days on your own, I think you’ve earned it.”

She shrugged. “Wouldn’t say that, but I heard you need the numbers.”

“Are you okay if we start training again?” After she said it, she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. She’d just told her that she was ready. Now she was—

“Yeah,” Viian said. “I got lucky out there.” She didn’t elaborate, but Haseul knew there was more. Was she ashamed of something? Or something else. “So I think we can still train?”

Haseul smiled. “We can train.”

They reached the fire-pit soon enough. Viian didn’t have to say it, but the way she eyed the grilled meat was clear. 

Haseul put a generous serving of beef and rise on a plate and handed it to her. 

It was almost funny how surprised the other girl was. It also reminded Haseul of Jungeun when she’d first come here. She’d been taken aback if someone had treated her well. 

Because of that, Haseul just poured her a glass of orange juice. It glittered as well. Almost everything they had was filled with light. She wasn’t even sure if drinking light was better than absorbing it, but it made everything easier. And more enjoyable. 

“Thanks.” Viian took the glass. Then she started eating. She was practically inhaling the food. When was the last time she’d eaten?

“If you go on another trip like that,” Haseul said. “Maybe take a pack.”

She shook her head. “I’m not too bad at hunting. I’d make do.”

“Then why’re you eating as if this is your first meal in days?”

Viian shrugged. “It is.”

Haseul looked at her for a long moment. 

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she glanced at her, “I was in a rush to get here. Hunger made me faster.”

“And then you finished guard with Heejin?” 

Viian chuckled. Her eyes crinkled when she did that. “Haven’t you ever been so involved with something that the hunger faded away?”

War, Haseul thought. “A few times.” 

The other girl’s brow furrowed. Briefly, Haseul wondered if she’d question that. 

“Well, that happened here.” The corner of her lip tugged up. “I think I understand.” Her eyes had a teasing edge. 

Haseul didn’t know what’d brought this change about. Had it been the conversation with Heejin? Or just the time she’d spent alone?

“What?” 

“Why Yeojin says you act like you’re her mother.” 

Haseul felt a laugh bubble up. “I am like her mother, thank you very much.” 

Viian smiled fully. Her eyes formed crescents. 

Haseul felt both stunned and proud. If this wasn’t a rare occurrence, then Viian would be opening up sooner than Jungeun or Yerim had. Jinsoul had taken a long time. Haseul had expected Viian to be more like her than the other two. 

“At least you’re admitting you’re like that,” Viian said. “Even if you’re trying to mother someone older than you.” 

“Sure you’re that much older?” Haseul frowned at her. “You’ve got more moon cycles, but not that many.”

“Moon cycles?” 

“Some of us can see that,” Haseul replied. “It doesn’t always agree with the mortal timeline, but I’d reckon you’re about eight hundred years old.” 

Viian blinked. “You’re right.” She raised a brow. “Moon cycles are practically months. You’re doing all those calculations on your own?”

“What,” she crossed her arms, “you don’t think I know basic mathematics?”

Viian shrugged. “Well it is more of a human skill.”

“We learned it that way,” Haseul said. “Over nine thousand moon cycles is a bit of a mouthful.” 

“Is that all you use the numbers for?” 

She shook her head. “I’ve been trying to quantify moonlight, see how we can divide it between us.” 

Viian looked at her for a few seconds. Had she been another person, Haseul would’ve gotten unnerved by that look. Now, she just really wanted to know what she was thinking. 

“And how’s that been going?” 

Haseul felt her face redden. “Badly,” she admitted. “Just like the way some spirits are filled with more light than others, the same applies to the light we can make.” She summoned a small piece of moonlight. “This could be less potent than something you summon, or twice as strong.” 

A shard formed in Viian’s hand. She looked between it and Haseul’s. 

“This time mine seems to have more,” she muttered. “Why?”

Haseul found herself smiling. “If you ask the fairy who’s on her way, she’ll tell you it’s based on our mood. It probably is, but the amount of light we have also plays a role there.” 

“But you can still control it?” 

She nodded. “Yet you do it without thinking much of it, you’ll just have your current state.” She absorbed her light back. “So you might be in a better mood than me, or you absorbed more light than I did.” 

Viian threw up the piece of moonlight and caught it. She looked at it again, an inquiring look in her eyes. Then she absorbed it. Haseul watched her skin start to glow softly. 

“Who’s on her way?” Viian asked. “Dahyun?”

Haseul wasn’t surprised she knew her. Dahyun was one of the more social emotional fairies. For reasons that weren’t all uplifting, but she’d been open enough to learn crosesh and a few other elven languages. It was almost to be expected that Dahyun would’ve been the one to go between the different clans, if needed. 

“She’s the only help we have when it comes to the bright spirits,” Haseul said. “Something about the things she can counter there.”

Viian’s brow twitched then. There was a type of uncertainty there. Did she know how Dahyun did it? Or something else?

“Is Yerim the only one who’s been injured by a bright spirit?” 

“Of the people we have here,” Haseul nodded, “and she tried to control it. So she really does need whatever Dahyun will give her.”

Viian’s frown made it clear that she had to explain that. 

“Unless it saves your life, don’t try to control a bright spirit’s light. Not even the benevolent type’s.” She remembered trying it on a friendlier spirit. Her mind had been uncomfortably warm for days. “You end up taking in that light and it’s never what you want.” She wracked her brain for how to best describe that. “Did you ever have too much of an emotion? Like accidentally hold some for too long?”

Viian nodded. Of course, she wasn't fazed by the concept. To Haseul, it was still weird to think about emotions being something she could touch. It was a relatively new magic too. Dahyun herself had discovered it.

“It’s that, but it doesn’t fade after a few hours. It takes days. And if it’s from the spirits that attack, it hurts.” She’d never had that pain. She just knew how it felt to have an emotional fairy try and drive an emotion into her head. “Sometimes it can break a person, others it just takes a long time for them to even be able to see light.” 

“And when it comes to controlling it again?” Viian leaned forward. “How long would that take?” There was an edge to her voice. Concern?

“With Dahyun’s help, about a week. If not, I’ve seen it take months for someone to recover.” Usually those who tried to push their limits, convinced that they were strong enough. They never were. 

“Did it pay off?” she asked. “The risk she took.”

“She saved them,” Haseul said. 

Viian just nodded. Her gaze went to the fire. 

All of Haseul wished that there’d been another option. But even then, she knew that Yerim had done the best she could. 

“And what’ve you been doing?” Viian had looked away from the fire. 

Haseul took a moment to process that. “Planning and patrol,” she said. “Had a run-in with a vampire.” She grimaced. “They really like the taste of moonlight.” 

Viian’s eyes trailed elsewhere. Haseul realised she was looking at her neck. 

She reached up to it. The bite marks were faint, but they still hadn’t healed fully. 

“Couldn’t fend it off in time?” Viian asked. Her brow was furrowed, but she was smiling. 

“You’re going to tell me you’re faster than a vampire?” 

She tapped her ear. “I’m not too bad at knowing they’re coming.”

Haseul chuckled. “So you’re saying my hearing’s poor.”

Viian shrugged. “You said it.” A pause. “I’m lucky no vampire came after me. My blood’s been wanted for its uniqueness.” She scoffed. 

“It’s good you weren’t gone that long then.” As soon as she said it, she wondered if that was too much. 

“A few days is short here too?” Viian’s brow rose. 

“We have patrols and people who try going around the world.” 

She smiled. “Right.” 

Haseul was tempted to ask if a few days hadn’t been enough. She also wanted to ask if she was planning on leaving again. It’d be fine based on how many they had on patrol and guard, but they’d probably have to know that first. 

“I didn’t expect I’d miss that much,” Viian said. “If there’s something you need me to do here, you just have to tell me.” 

“You want to be put to work immediately?” Haseul asked. “We usually give people a few days rest, especially if they’ve been awake for a long time.” She had a feeling Viian hadn’t slept since leaving. Especially since she hadn’t gotten accustomed to their nocturnal schedule. 

“I don’t need it.” She tapped a short rhythm on the plate. “Resting means more thinking. And I’ve already had that.” There was something final in the way she spoke.

Haseul got a knot in her stomach then. Maybe Viian had just come back to learn a bit more about moonlight. And then she’d also decided to help more as she did. And then she’d leave. 

Haseul couldn’t exactly fault her for not wanting to stay. There’d been several days when she’d wanted to do the same. 

That bright smile reappeared. “I’m not leaving, if that’s what you were wondering.”

In spite of everything, Haseul felt a part of herself relax then. She shouldn’t have actually cared, but she was still happy to hear it. 

“You think you can tolerate us?” 

“Some of you at least,” Viian shot back, a glint in her eye. 

Haseul laughed. “We’re a big enough group that you can avoid those you don’t like.” 

“Always?”

“There are ways of doing it, Viian," she winked, “we’ll teach you them along with everything else.” 

Viian gave her an unreadable look then. Haseul thought she was getting a better grasp on the nuances by now. Clearly, there were more she still didn’t have settled. 

After a few seconds, she spoke. "Call me Vivi. Then her shoulders loosened fully. She leaned back and tilted her head up to the sky, her pink hair dangling past her shoulders. Her skin was glowing even brighter now. 

It took a few minutes for Haseul to realise she was staring. She was glad no one had been there to notice. 

______

Yeojin looked at the plate in her hands and back to the hut of dirt. There was no sparkle in the water, nor a flicker of light in the meat or sauce. It was weird having no light in her hands or on her skin, but that’s what she needed. 

As she got closer, the wall of dirt parted. The motion was too smoothly to be called crumbling. 

And in that moment, Yeojin knew she couldn’t turn away anymore. She steeled herself, pushing away visions of Yerim’s bloodied form. 

“Hi!” Yerim grinned at her. A small fire burned, but the smell of smoke had been drowned out by fruits and flowers. 

Yeojin was momentarily stunned at the plants strewn across the floor, some even emerging from the walls. 

“Were you planning on moving here?” She half-wondered if that could even be taken as a joke. 

Yerim laughed. “I’m keeping it even after I’m better, so I guess I’m tempted.” She looked around, a fond look in her eyes. 

Yeojin saw that her purple eyes were dimmer than normal. The cuts had healed, save for a thicker scar along her forehead. 

The leg was wrapped in cloth that’d been soaked in water and something else. Yeojin had helped get the water from the river. The other paste was something Yerim had learned to make from some witch. Jinsoul had told her about the different powders and pastes Yerim had created with a very proud smile. 

The light was still in her leg. Yeojin felt uncomfortable looking at it. 

At least there wasn’t a lot of darkness. Nothing was in her heart. 

“It smells.” Yeojin sat down. Then she handed the food and water over. 

Yerim shrugged. “I like it this way.”

There was a small crack on the far end. A gap of about a hand’s width opened. 

“But I can air it out if you like?” 

“No,” Yeojin said hurriedly. “It’s good smells—smells good.” She cringed at how she stumbled over her words. 

She laughed. “If you say so.” She started eating. The hole didn’t close. The strong scents had subsided slightly. 

They sat in a weird silence. Yerim had clearly been very hungry. 

The place was somehow incredibly cozy. There were open pouches and boxes, some filled with crushed herbs, others with seeds. 

Yeojin wondered if this was the main way Yerim had decorated her surroundings before she got the magic of the moon. 

“I knew I needed to do something while in here,” Yerim said. “So I got productive.”

“Aren’t plants hard for you?”

“They were,” she said. Pause. “But I learned it twice, so by now I’m pretty good.”

Learned it twice. That didn’t make any sense. 

Yerim continued before she could ask. “Mind telling me why I saw Vivi before I saw you?” The smile on her face had softened, but, of course, it was there. 

Yeojin had to look away. Her face was growing warm. 

“You know this was because of a bright spirit, right?” Yerim waved at her leg. “I’m very sure you didn’t attack me or split my head open.” She crossed her eyes with a slight chuckle. “Unless I forgot.” Clearly, she expected the words to be funny. 

Yeojin shook her head. “You wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t gone out.”

She shrugged. “I might’ve followed Hyunjin out.”

There was something off there. Yeojin couldn’t place what it was. 

“And if I hadn’t followed you, or you would’ve stayed, it would’ve just been Hyunjin out there.”

Again, Yeojin shook her head. She couldn’t let her justify them going out like they had. It’d been a mistake. “That’s not—” 

Yerim cut her off. “Someone was going to clear out that house. Hyunjin was already ready to go the day she did. You would’ve gone out there at some point, no matter if I’d stopped you that day or not. And with how things are changing, some spirits are bound to cross our path.” The smile was gone. “So if you came to apologise, don’t. This was between me and that snake.” 

It was weird seeing her be serious. It wasn’t that she’d been insincere before when she just smiled, but Yeojin had rarely bought it. She knew that Yerim hadn’t been completely fake, but the positivity had just annoyed her. 

“Yeojin.” She set down her food and turned fully to her. Yeojin didn’t miss the wince when she moved her leg. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“Already been told that,” Yeojin replied. 

Yerim looked at her for a long moment. Then she waved at hand at the far end. The gap in the first closed. There was a small crumbling sound as a branch dug into the dirt. The sigil to muffle sound was carved in all around the hut of dirt. 

That meant two things: either Yerim was going to tell her some secret or she was going to get even. Yeojin wouldn’t even complain if she got a mouth full of dirt or was buried up to her neck. Those had been the rare moments when Yerim had gotten angry at someone else. Either they’d disrespected Jungeun or spoken ill about Hyejoo. 

“I can promise that it wasn’t your fault,” Yerim said. “Everything I did was my decision. What happened to us, the spirits, I knew what I was doing.” 

“How can you know that?” Yeojin gave her a look. “We didn’t see those coming at all.” 

“You didn’t,” she said quietly. “Before, I realised they were coming.” 

“Before?”

Yerim held her gaze. “You need to promise you’ll never tell.”

She could barely guess what it would be. “Promise.”

“I’m a seer,” she said. “Had it after she—Hyejoo was forced out.” 

Yeojin couldn’t believe her ears. “A seer,” she repeated. “Paths and all?” Somehow, it didn't seem like that much of a stretch. In a way, it was amazing that Yerim didn't just have two types of magic, but three. 

“Paths and all.” She nodded. 

“So before,” she started. “You knew the spirit was coming?”

“I knew where you wanted to go,” Yerim said. “And when that bright spirit was coming our way, I–I knew you’d get hurt, and badly, and that Hyunjin,” she faltered. Her eyes fell. 

Yeojin didn’t have to ask what that meant. She knew Yerim had saved their lives. Even if she should've never had to, she had. 

“So it really wasn’t you,” Yerim continued. “It doesn't take much to change a spirit's path. Neither you or Hyunjin could’ve done anything.”

“You didn’t know it was coming when you followed me?” That’d explain a lot about the past years. Had Yerim known about those spirits that’d attacked before? Had she followed to help her?

“Not that time.” Yerim shook her head. “I thought we’d all be alright.” Her lip trembled. “But the future can be unpredictable too.” 

Yeojin frowned. “And you thought taking that spirit on by yourself would help?”

“It did,” she muttered. “I wouldn’t have gotten hurt if we’d have fought it.” A lost look appeared then. “I still don’t know why.”

“So you did something that’d lead to you getting hurt anyway.”

She just shrugged. “It worked.” She smiled. “We survived.” 

“But you can’t use any light,” Yeojin said. “For how long?”

“A few days, depends on how this turns out.” She pointed at her leg. "But I've been cut off from magic before. I know how to get back from there."

Yeojin remembered what she'd said about learning to grow plants twice. "When did you lose your first one? Before you came to us?"

Yerim looked away. "Before I became a seer." 

So after Hyejoo had been banished. 

"Do you think it's connected?" Losing one thing, before regaining it and having another magic? It made sense to her. Even if she'd only ever had one magic (she didn't count sigils and spells). 

After a long moment, Yerim shook her head. "I felt so lost when she was gone. I couldn't believe what they'd done to her." She glanced up at Yeojin once. An uncharacteristic gloom had come over her face. "Getting life to flourish didn't quite fit there. I barely managed to summon a decent piece of light either." 

Yeojin felt a growing sensation of guilt again. 

"But no," Yerim interrupted her thoughts. "I don't think I'll be even more powerful once my magic comes back." She huffed out a laugh. "But if I do, I'll show you." 

They sat there, once again in silence. Yeojin watched as she kept eating. She noticed that her eyes were glowing a bit more. Hyunjin’s eyes were still too dim, so this was a good sign. 

“I feel fine,” Yerim broke the silence, “my head still hurts, yeah, my leg burns, and I’m cold.” The smile returned. She looked more relieved than anything. “But the fairy's coming soon and she'll help. So I’m good."

“Really,” she raised a brow, “because it sounds like you feel terrible.” 

Yeojin winked at her. “That too.”

Yeojin knew this sort of attitude would’ve annoyed her before. Now it made her realise two things. Yerim was a lot stronger than she looked, but also that her smile was used to cover that. And to hide something else. Was that just the fact that she could see the future? Yeojin didn’t know her well enough to tell the difference. A part of her wanted to find out. 

_______

Yves looked at the empty bed. There was another spot beside it. It had no bed at all. 

The sight made her chest ache. She’d let this happen. 

She was surrounded by empty beds. Chaewon would only be back in a few hours. Jiwoo might not be coming back for the entire night. 

Yves left the tent. 

The sleep schedules of elves were as varied as those of mortals. Some were wide awake at this time, others had long since disappeared into their tents. 

Yves was pretty sure she was somewhere in the middle there. Sometimes, the discussions had about vampire or werewolf attacks went right into sunrise. Others, a hunt would take them too far away. They either camped there or used the day to walk back. Those sorts of days usually ended with a sunburn and three days of being exhausted. 

“You’re not doing the search anymore?” 

Yves looked to where the question came. It was Onew. He’d become an elder about ten years ago. Still young, but that was a good sign. He also wasn’t that stubborn. 

She shook her head. “Gave that over to Lisa.” 

“Can I ask why?” His brow furrowed. It didn’t look like a challenge. Just a genuine question. 

Yves looked to the rest. A few had looked over. Most were more involved in whatever conversations they were having. Onew’s own group were currently debating the merits of having a mental fairy sit in on discussions. Surprisingly, it looked like an even debate. No shouting either. 

“We’re not right for it,” Yves said. Jiwoo had said they’d be more useful going after the aggressive dark spirits. She was right, but Yves knew full well that wasn’t the actual reason. 

Onew nodded. “If we do find her,” he began, “we won’t hurt her.” His eyes flicked between hers. “The others just don’t want her too close.” 

Even if she was doing more for them closer than further away. Even if she was closer to the place she called home. 

Yves knew she’d come here to kill someone. She hadn’t. And she’d also stayed here. It hadn’t been for any of them, but for herself. She was in a place she knew, surrounded by towns and cities she’d been to before. She also knew the mortal language here. 

“And what about you?” she asked. Would he posture and say something vague? Or something substantial? 

He held her gaze. “All that has to happen is she moves down a region. After that, the seers’ll barely feel her presence and she can live exactly how she wants to.” 

Yves looked away. She’d never let herself entertain the thought of Hyejoo ever coming back. Not only did she firmly believe that Hyejoo wouldn’t want to, not after everything they’d done to her, but she also knew the Astra wouldn’t accept her. They hadn’t before, not really. They definitely wouldn’t now. 

And Onew was well aware of that, maybe even more than she was. 

“You miss her, I understand that.” Onew smiled then. “Co-existence without crossing paths. That’s what you’re trying to get too, isn’t it?”

Yves gave him a small nod, but said nothing. They'd probably end up taking up patrol. With Jungeun and Choerry out of commission, along with lower numbers because of the search parties, patrol was the clear option. 

Knowing the conversation was over, Onew just said, “good day,” before going back to the rest. 

Yves kept walking. 

Chaewon was a fair distance away, but it was the same place as always. Less than a century ago, she’d never gone there alone. She’d had someone by her side. Yves knew that they’d laugh, talk, bicker, and train. Sometimes, they'd gone there when one or the other had gotten stuck in the past. They'd been there together when one had felt isolated, or an old wound had opened up again. 

And now, it was a place where Chaewon only ever went alone. 

It was by the river. At this time, the moon usually peered through the branches, creating a small space of light. 

Chaewon sat in the centre of it, a gleaming sword in her lap. Her head was bowed, her shoulders hunched over. Yves was reminded of a night of centuries ago. They'd all been younger, far less experienced with the world and the cruelty within it. Each of them had been thrust into the worst of awakenings. Chaewon had come away broken. She'd healed over the years. There had been stretches of time when they'd all believed she'd become whole again. 

But seeing her now, Yves didn't know how long it would take her to get to that state again. She just knew that she'd never leave Chaewon's side until she started healing again. 

“Here to get me to sleep?” Her voice was lower than normal. Harsher too. 

“Here to see how you are,” Yves replied. 

Chaewon looked up. Her mouth was set in a firm line. Tears streaked down the sides of her face. 

"And now you've seen it.” She started to clean the sword’s shaft.

Go away was the message. 

Yves sat down across from her. She stretched out her legs so her foot brushed Chaewon’s knee. 

She didn’t stop polishing the sword. 

So Yves reached for the other one. 

Chaewon stepped on it. “I haven’t done that one yet.” In her eyes was the same defensiveness of that night. Yves had known then that Chaewon hadn't intended on getting rid of them. Had that been a mistake?

She gave her a look. “Can I at least look at it?” 

The foot lifted. 

Yves unsheathed the blade. There was no sign of wear, not even dust on the hilt. 

She looked back to Chaewon. Her eyes were locked on the sword. There was no mask, not even now when Yves was sitting across from her. All she saw was guilt and pain. It hurt her just as much. 

“Why do you still have these?” 

Chaewon stiffened. “I’m not getting rid of them.” 

It was exactly the reaction Yves hadn’t wanted to see. 

“Why?”

No response. 

“I’m not telling you to get rid of them,” Yves said. She put the sword back beside Chaewon. “Just tell me why we’re not.” 

The hand on the blade paused. Yves watched as Chaewon’s gaze shifted to the space in front of her. She was looking at the bond. Something broken. 

Chaewon let out a dry laugh. “All I can think of is why we should.” 

Yves didn’t say anything. She’d pushed her. Now she had to let her speak. 

“She’s never coming back,” she said slowly. “And she has magic now.” She continued to polish the sword. “So she’ll never need them again.” She took a deep breath. “They’re useless.”

Another round of silence came. Chaewon only broke it to switch swords. She’d been out here for at least an hour. Had she been lost in thought this entire time? And what had taken up her mind? The bond? Hyejoo being closer than she had in years? Or the fact that Yves and Jiwoo had decided to stop looking for her? 

“But I need them.” Chaewon chuckled. “How pathetic is that?”

“I’ve seen worse.” 

“Pining witches and hopeless vampires don’t count.” She gave her a look, one with a slight raised eyebrow. It was one Yves had seen only occasionally. Once there’d been constant judgement. Yves missed that constant exchange of snide comments and bursts of laughter. 

Yves got up and sat beside her. She lightly knocked their shoulders together. 

The corner of Chaewon’s lip curled up. “You know, you could just give these to Viian. I bet she could melt them down and we’d be done with it.”

“You wouldn’t want that.” Yves frowned at her. “I thought you were gonna stab me when I asked you about them.”

She snorted. “It’s because you’re right. I shouldn’t have kept them.” Her gaze softened the moment she looked back down at the sword. “They’re just a reminder.”

“None of us need a reminder to remember,” Yves replied. The thought of Hyejoo came to her every day. The shame of what Yves had done, and hadn't done, had never faded. 

Chaewon's smile weakened. She knew that better than anyone. Not just with Hyejoo. Yves hated that loss was so familiar to the younger girl. 

“So it’s not a reason for you to sell or melt them down,” Yves finished. 

Chaewon just nodded. She kept wiping at the blade. 

Yves didn’t have to ask why Chaewon cleaned the blades. She hadn’t even needed to ask why she kept them, but she’d needed to hear why they were so precious to her. 

“Did you want to keep looking for her?” 

Chaewon shook her head. “I never wanted to.” She bit her lip. “I know what she’d do. What she’d want to do.” Her eyes had become glassy again. “And I know I’d let her.” 

Yves knew she had it in her to do the same. If Hyejoo really wanted to hurt them, or worse, Yves saw no reason why she shouldn’t. 

“Don’t say that,” Yves said, her tone harsher then she wanted it to be. “You don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to be hurt for it.” You’ve already been hurt, she thought.

Chaewon didn’t reply. Yves knew she didn’t believe her. 

“We’re not looking for her, because it could happen. I don’t think it should happen,” she told her. “You’ve paid for the mistake. Nothing else should happen, because of it.” 

“I’ve paid?” She looked up. “Jiwoo and you haven’t?”

“We’re not the ones with a pain in our chest,” Yves replied. And I didn’t lose the person I loved most in this world. 

Chaewon set the sword on her lap, the blade pointing away from Yves. “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you’re not hurting either.” She reached over and squeezed her hand. “If you’re saying I don’t deserve to get hurt, neither do you or Jiwoo.” Then she kept cleaning the blade. 

Yves watched her work. There was a weight in her stomach. It was her turn not to believe what she heard. 

She could’ve told Chaewon that what’d been said wasn’t true. She could’ve defended Hyejoo, no matter if it was true or not. It shouldn’t have mattered if Hyejoo was dangerous or not. They should’ve been there for her. Jiwoo wasn’t to blame. She’d gone along with what Yves had said. But it had been Yves who’d agreed with the elders. She’d been the one to turn away first. 

When they went back, the sun was rising. Yves was both tired and alert. She wanted to move. Jiwoo wasn’t back yet. She wanted to wait for her. But this might’ve been a patrol that took a few days. That almost made it worse. 

Yves listened as Chaewon tucked the swords between the furs, hidden from view, but well within her reach. 

She hadn’t asked why Chaewon still cleaned them. She hadn't even asked her why she was cleaning them weeks before she usually did it.

Tending to those swords was one of the things that she could actually do. Even though Hyejoo would never lay a finger on those swords, they were still hers. Chaewon cleaned the blades, because they were the last piece of Hyejoo that she had, everything else being lost or broken. 

______

Olivia knelt in front of a small bush. She wracked her mind for whether or not this was the right root. She decided that it had to be. She vaguely remembered a lesson Yerim had given her over a century and a half ago. She’d taught her the elixirs to make. All to make sure Olivia felt somewhat useful. 

She smiled at the memory. 

It was soon soured when she remembered the person who’d been with her then. The person who’d gone with her, enduring hours of scouring through bushes and roots and weeds, just so that Olivia could mix the elixir she needed. 

That person had done a lot, but not when it’d most mattered. She’d turned away then. She’d wanted Olivia to go. 

Olivia shoved that person from her mind. She ripped out the plant and others like it, before getting to her feet. She shoved it in her bag and started walking to the town. 

It wasn’t hard to find the place of the witch. Not only was there a fair amount of darkness around  her, because of her magic and near eternal youth, but there was also a small amount of light. Some Astra did go to witches, specifically ones like Jungeun or Hyunjin who were more comfortable with non-elves. They could be useful for magic that wasn’t intrinsically theirs. For Olivia, she’d sought out multiple witches to teach her what magic they could. This one she’d seen once in the past few years. 

She didn’t knock before opening the door. 

There was a sharp cry. Something fell to the floor. 

Doyeon scowled at her. “Mind announcing that you’re coming?” She glowered at a now fallen crystal. It hadn’t broken. 

Olivia threw the sack of flora at her. “Mind telling me why you’re dealing with Astra again?” She also knew exactly who’d been here. A part of her wanted to destroy those traces of light. 

She caught it and raised a brow. “I told them the last place you were in. Not this one.” 

Olivia didn’t comment on that. “My money?”

“I swear,” Doyeon muttered. “You’re the only greedy elf I’ve met.” 

“Then you haven’t met enough.” She thought of Alluin’s group. Alluin himself was extremely greedy. And the Astra had their own greed, even if it wasn’t monetary. 

Doyeon muttered something under her breath as she got the money. She checked what was in her hand before setting it on the table. 

“What do you need it for anyway?” She frowned at her. “You can get whatever you want without it.”

Olivia decided against telling her that she didn’t want to steal. “They always notice it in the end,” she said. “I want to stay here a while until then.” 

Doyeon’s brow rose. “You’ll be gathering a lot of herbs until then.” 

“Have anything else that’ll pay more?” 

She hadn’t expected an answer, but the witch straightened. 

“What’re you willing to do?” 

“I don’t plan on being your assassin.” 

Doyeon rolled her eyes. “Going straight to the magic word,” she shook her head, “you’d be more of a glorified monster hunter.” 

Monster was a relative term. Most considered it to apply to deformed beasts whose minds were only focused on destruction. The Astra called corrupted spirits monsters. They also deemed Olivia a monster. 

Alluin had depicted the humans being murdered as monsters. 

Olivia had seen enough of both elves and fairies to call a few monsters. 

But she knew what sort of monsters Doyeon referred to. “Vampire or werewolf?” 

“Vampires.” She examined one of her many rings. Just one of those would get Olivia a few weeks worth of food. Even more if there was a decent enchantment on it. “They’re either really callous, or just newborns. Massacred a travelling merchant party three days ago, then a noble and his guards yesterday. The outskirts of a town is next, just a farm if we’re lucky.”

“How do you know that?” Olivia frowned at her. Normally, the seers would be looking into this. Or those on patrol would hear the story of a mysterious attack. As far as she knew, witches never looked out for rumours like that. If anything, they’d be at taverns to get a better reputation, a bedfellow, client, or all three. The list went on. 

Doyeon raised a brow. “Scrying doesn’t just help me find people. I can also follow blood trails.”

In the back of her mind, Olivia wondered if she could do the same to follow Alluin and the rest. Then she’d know if they were coming. 

But she wouldn’t drag the witch into that. Not yet at least. 

“Why’re you following those? Need a new experiment?”

The darkness around the witch strengthened. Outrage, but not the desire to murder. Or cause some other type of suffering. 

“I’d like to stop the murders,” Doyeon snapped. “It’s not just your fellow elves and fairies who try to protect the humans.” 

Olivia bit back her response. She hadn’t expected this witch to care. Was she as judgemental as the witches and vampires were to the fae and elven people? She supposed she was. 

“So my guess was that you can tell if they’re a real murderer or not,” Doyeon said, the edge to her tone now gone. “You know, like how the Astra trust me in the first place and all.” 

And why I trust you, Olivia thought. While Doyeon was very often arrogant and dealt with too many people at once for Olivia to ever feel comfortable around her, she was far from evil. “I’ll find them. Just give me a direction.” 

“They’ll be in Huyeo next.” She went to her cauldron. “Just a snack this time.” She said it dismissively. 

Only this time, Olivia caught a small surge in the darkness. She didn’t know if she was actually reading her emotions, only that she could vaguely tell which was which.  She knew someone was being driven by rage. She knew if they wanted, or had, to give in to the desire to something terrible. And she knew if they were scared. 

Doyeon was scared. She wasn’t asking Olivia to go after someone purely to have them dead. She was asking her to do it to stop others from dying. 

That was different than revenge. It had to be. 

“The next time I see your ex-family, I can send them after them.” Doyeon shrugged. No matter who did it, she’d stop the rampage. 

“How many?” Only three had been here. And only three would be sent after them. 

“Four,” she said. “One’s got to be the creator, but you’ll find that out then.” 

“Your scrying doesn’t tell you everything?” 

Doyeon frowned at her. “I think my magic does a lot more than yours does.”

“You’re good at many things,” Olivia replied. “But what I do, I’ve devoted more than your lifetime in honing that.” She didn’t mention that she’d only controlled the darkness for a fraction of her life. 

“Right,” she scoffed, “how foolish of me to forget you’re all immortal.” She muttered something and the cauldron began to fill with water. “It’s not like every single elf I see has to tell me I’m a child to them.”

Olivia didn’t need her magic to see the frustration there. She was quite sure that most witches had that. It was a shaky thing to deal with witches. Most weren’t immortal and most just wanted to live their lives as completely as they could. That usually included doing almost anything that their magic allowed them. Some went to necromancy, others to manipulation of the living. And the reality was that if the elves lived the same amount of time as they did, their magic wouldn’t let them achieve as much. 

But they were immortal. A lot of fairies had used that fully to their advantage, learning about their magic for years on end. The elves just strengthened their capabilities without questioning much. It didn’t matter if they had a limited range in magic. Time made them stronger. 

“But we’ll still need your help,” Olivia said. “You’ve integrated in ways I can’t.” She didn’t know how to go that route anyway. A part of her didn’t want to witness how fleeting mortal lives could be. More than once, Yerim had once broken down crying, because she’d lost a friend she’d made among the humans. “And you can do more than I can.” 

Doyeon looked taken aback. 

“I’ll go,” Olivia turned to the door, “do you need confirmation?” Proof that they were dead. Usually, that just meant collecting their ashes in a small vial. 

“I’ll know.” A pause. “If they’re newborns, try not to kill them.” Something sad came over her expression. “Bring them here if they survive.” 

As in, if they didn’t try to kill her. Or if Olivia could restrain them long enough to bring them back. 

“I’ll try.”

The corner of her lip tugged up. “Thank you.” 

Olivia didn’t respond. She just left. The shadows weren’t reaching for her, but she felt cold. 

Vampires might’ve been considered monsters, but they were immortal, just as elves were. They’d once been human too. It was a fusion of the two worlds. They knew the humans better than any elf or fairy could. And they were stronger and faster than most too. That was one of the main reasons why witches didn’t go against them directly. Not usually, at least. 

Olivia had fought werewolves before. She’d killed elves and fairies. She’d also killed a fair amount of vampires too. 

So why did this feel different? Because it wasn’t out of self-defence? Because she didn’t know if the vampire was being driven by hunger or some darker part of their soul? 

Or because she’d looked into the eyes of someone who’d begged her to let him live? Someone who she’d let live, only for him to be slaughtered along with several others?

Chapter Text

“Patrol’s simple,” Haseul said. “Most of the time.” She handed her a waterskin. They were finally finished with training. If Vivi had kept score, she was quite sure they’d have been even. Haseul was skilful, but she didn’t always expect the manoeuvres Vivi made. It was the same the other way round. 

And it made the sparring sessions even better. It didn’t take much to see that Haseul had been involved in real fights, ones with actual stakes, instead of simple duels and spirit encounters. They were on the same page there. 

Vivi accepted the waterskin. She drank. The moonlit water was really growing on her. It was both invigorating and refreshing. A strange combination, but it worked. She supposed that was how it was supposed to be, considering their lunar magic. 

That was another benefit to add to her list. She’d begun keeping one to better appreciate the place she was supposed to call home. It was a short list, but a list nonetheless. She could only hope that once Dahyun came, she'd tell her a bit more about why she trusted the Astra so much. Few knew why that emotional fairy visited the lunar elves more than most and fewer had actually asked. Vivi would make sure to ask. 

She looked to the person beside her, someone who’d said she’d teach her about the moon and added training to that. She’s also been nothing but kind, going as far as helping her with crosesh when there was a word Vivi’d forgotten. She was also starting to teach her a few sigils. 

“It just gets hard when you’re actually sent after something,” Haseul sighed, “like vampires or wolves. Not even ones we should be chasing, but we’re the better trackers for that.” 

“How?” As far as Vivi knew, elves and fairies weren’t as fast as vampires. They also didn’t have as heightened senses as they did either. Most of them couldn’t twist someone else’s mind either. Vampires even had the ability to compel werewolves in their crazed state. Emotional fae were hurt by the sheer amount of rage in a wolf, while mental fae couldn’t sift through the chaos of their minds. 

“Like everything we have,” Haseul waved a hand, “we can follow the light. Or lack of it.” 

Vivi frowned. That didn’t seem to apply to all kinds of darkness. “Then why haven’t the scouting parties found that girl?” 

Green eyes flicked to hers, a brief flash of suspicion there, before it eased into something else. “You mean Hyejoo.” 

“I didn’t know we could say her name.” Vivi still didn’t quite understand the multiple name piece. Her own was simple. She had a name she’d used among the humans, because Viian didn’t quite flow off the tongue in some languages. 

“Depends who you ask.” Haseul smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s politically correct to call her Olivia, but Hyejoo’s her real name.” 

New questions came to her. What exactly had happened? What reasoning could possibly justify banishing a girl who’d never possessed a particular magic? And where had the rest of them been? Was there any chance she’d be able to come back? Especially if she had the potential to help?

Vivi decided against asking them. It was a sore spot for many, but it seemed to be an especially sensitive topic for Haseul. The mention of Hyejoo exposed a crack in the usual strength that surrounded the girl. Vivi didn’t think it was weakness, but anger. Unlike Heejin, who let her anger show itself, Haseul was suppressing it. Either that, or the situation was a deep scar that hadn’t healed yet. And mentioning Hyejoo just brought that pain back. 

“We haven’t found her, because that type of darkness is different.” Haseul’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like the fae magic used to disappear. I think.” 

Vivi smiled. “That’s a lot of uncertainty.” But she’d noticed it. As she’d gotten further away from Hyejoo, it’d gotten harder to pinpoint where she was. If she went looking for her, she’d have to rely on her stone magic. 

The rest didn’t have that. 

Haseul shrugged. “Anyone who gets that magic doesn’t get to stay. We can’t exactly learn from them.” There was bite to that statement. It lessened when she continued. “But to get back to it, we can sense the darkness that surrounds a vampire. You can sense spirits, whether they’re light or dark, and we can follow that same aura in the bloodsucker.”

Vivi glanced at the girl’s neck. The bite marks hadn’t faded yet. Other injuries she’d seen elves bear had healed faster than that. 

She looked at Haseul’s eyes to see that there wasn’t much spite there. All she saw was tiredness. Still, the animosity towards vampires was there. Vivi felt the same, most of the time, but even then, a lot of vampires were simply humans made immortal. Some took that immortality and enhanced strength to their heads, others lived through it with as much grace as a fairy did. 

Haseul caught her looking. “What’s on your mind?” 

“Vampires,” Vivi admitted. “They’re not all bad.”

“I know.” Haseul’s hand drifted upward before falling back down to her lap. “But most of the ones we see are,” she trailed off, “not great at all.” 

“And most of the ones I know aren’t too bad.” 

Haseul nodded. “I’d actually want to meet them, if they ever pass through, or you go visit them.” She sighed. “A lot of the time, I end up forgetting they were once human. I think those ones do too.” 

Vivi knew she should’ve replied to that, but she was halfway surprised by Haseul’s words. Not only was she admitting to dehumanising the vampires, but she wanted to broaden her perspective. And it seemed like she thought it was a normal thing. From what Vivi had seen of other elves, as well as fairies, they ended up dismissing the immortal humans. They either became enemies or nuisances. 

She was broken from her thoughts when Haseul turned to face her fully. There was a weird look in her eyes. It looked like she was sure of something, but didn’t like what she’d decided to do. 

“What do you wanna know?” 

“About?” 

“Anything,” she said. “Jungeun and the others, Yves and the other two, Hyejoo, the elders.” The corner of her lip twitched to the side. “You left because you found out something that happened a few decades ago. Maybe the next thing you find out was a century ago, or three.” 

Vivi liked that reasoning. It just made too much sense. Maybe she’d see another side to Haseul. The one that made her suited to be an elder. The one that was more politically inclined, more manipulative. 

“And what’ll you want me to tell you about my life?” 

The change in Haseul’s expression wasn’t smoothed over. It was just a genuine grimace. She was guilty about something. “Some of us can look into the past, a bit like how seers look into the future.” 

“Can you?” The prospect should’ve bothered Vivi, but it didn’t. It was probably because she’d grown up with people who could search her mind for whatever memories they wanted. It didn’t mean she welcomed it, but she’d had to get used to it. It was their fault if they didn’t like what they found. 

She shook her head. “Not that skilled,” she chuckled, “but I know people who have. And they looked.” 

Vivi wasn’t surprised. “If I had that ability, I’d have done the same.” 

Haseul raised a brow at her. “Really?” 

“Come on,” Vivi nudged her arm, “you can’t tell me you didn’t listen when they discussed my past.”

The smile she gave her was shy. “Alright, nosiness is also something we have.”

“For us, nosiness isn’t a bad thing,” she replied. “If you’re not curious about a person at all, you’re an idiot.” 

Haseul eyed her. “Right,” she leaned back on her elbows, “I know you’ve been in a fair amount of battles yourself, and that you’ve been among the humans quite a lot.” 

“And?”

“That’s most of what I heard,” she said, eyes turning back to the sky. 

“Most?” Vivi repeated. 

The shy smile returned. Vivi found she liked it on her. 

“Is it bad to say that some concerned themselves for the other people you’d, well, associated yourself with?” 

The way she said it was tentative. She raised an eyebrow as she looked from the sky and back to Vivi. 

“You mean my partners?” Vivi felt herself smile. 

Haseul returned it. “Were those the good vampires you meant?” 

“Yes,” she admitted. “But I knew better.” 

The green eyes looked away from her, but they were sparkling. 

Vivi’s smile grew. “Got any questions about that?”

Haseul didn’t reply. 

“I’ve some of my own.” Vivi rested on her back beside her. She gazed up at the stars. Some of the fairies had read them. Some humans did as well. She’d never bothered to know much about the star signs or anything else of that part of reality. 

Haseul looked down at her. The moon had made it so that the light was perfectly angled towards her. It caressed the side of her face, along her jaw and down her neck. It was a sight that was impossible for others, even if they were in front of a blazing fire. But the Astra called on moonlight like others drew breath. Even then, Vivi wasn’t sure if all of them looked like Haseul did beneath the moon. 

“What were those?” Haseul asked, her voice quiet. “My past or my partners?”

She was being surprisingly forward. Vivi wanted to be as well. She trusted Haseul enough that this wasn’t some elaborate ploy. The first few days of being with the Astra would’ve achieved that. The reveal of Hyejoo’s banishment might’ve shown that, had Haseul shown herself to be genuine. Hyejoo’s words had proved just that. 

“We can start with the past,” Vivi said. “And I’ll ask about the rest later.”

Her smile widened, while her eyes became crescents. Vivi wondered if the born-Astra actually embodied the moon instead of just being tied to it. She could easily imagine that Haseul was one of them. 

Then Haseul nodded. “I can tell you I’ve been involved with most of the battles that happened in my lifetime.” 

“Including the emotional fae?”

She started. “How did you,” then she shook her head, “sorry, should’ve known you knew this.” 

“It’s alright,” Vivi told her. It was a slip-up, considering the first encounter she’d had with the consequences had been Hyejoo and then Heejin. She’d known about it before, but only in passing. Like how she knew of the widespread disease in the west, but not how many humans had suffered because of it. 

Haseul just nodded. “Including that. I was young, relative to the rest at a fighting age. Same with Yves.” She didn’t say the name with disdain, even though Yves seemed to have been branded the villain by Heejin and Yeojin. “But we needed everyone we could get and they attacked suddenly. Even the seers hadn’t realised when exactly they’d get to us.” Her eyes darkened then. The relaxed slope to her shoulders had drooped into a tired sadness. It was an old sort of mourning. 

Vivi knew that look. Haseul had also lost someone close to her during that attack. She decided not to ask. Even if Haseul was allowing herself not to put up a complete front, that didn’t mean Vivi had got pry at what was left of it. 

Still, she sat up so that they were level. Haseul met her eyes once with a short nod. Then she looked to the forest, but not the moon. 

“We all lost,” she said. “But the person I think lost the most on that day was Chaewon.” A long pause. “It’s a sensitive topic all around, but I’d say never even mention it with her.” Guilt appeared in her eyes. 

Vivi nodded. It wasn’t hard to see that something bore down on Gowon’s mind and body. She looked tired most of the night and if no one was around her, there was a strangely haunted look in her eyes. It wasn’t one that had seen brutality, though Vivi didn’t doubt that she’d seen that too, but one that was stuck in the past. 

And she was one of the people Heejin seemed to hate the most. She was one of the people who’d turned away from Hyejoo. And yet she seemed to grieve that loss more than anyone else. 

“Why do they let you fight, even if you’re going to eventually be an elder?” Vivi thought of Heejin and how she’d struggled to even be allowed on patrol. 

Haseul laughed. “It was difficult at first,” she said. “After a while, it was fine.”

“You mean you forced them to accept it.”

Her eyes turned that brighter form of emerald green. “Well,” she trailed off, “maybe.” 

Vivi thought of a younger Haseul giving the elders a smile, a challenge in her eyes, urging them to stop her. 

If she needed any more reason to like the elf, she had it right there. 

She looked closer. She really was beautiful. Most of the women here, as well as those Vivi had known before, had long hair that fell well below their shoulders. The short hair made for a delicate frame around Haseul’s face. And then the way her eyes crinkled as she smiled—Vivi might’ve liked that most of all. 

“Got another question?” Haseul raised her brow. She was smiling, but it was still a gentle form of it. 

Vivi wondered if she should wrack her brain for an excuse. She decided against it. 

She shook her head. “Just thought of something.” 

“Care to tell?” She tilted her head to the side. 

“Later,” Vivi replied. “Promise.”

And she imagined she would. 

______

Jungeun had a dark look in her eyes. Jinsoul had seen it many times. She always wished she could take it away. 

She didn’t say anything. Instead, she went over to her.

Jungeun didn’t look up. She was focused on a spot on the floor. In her hands, a flame travelled up her fingers. 

Jinsoul put a hand to her cheek. Her skin was still so cold to the touch. Whenever she was in a state of mind like this, her skin would always be hot. 

She remembered a different day, one where she’d seen this same look in Jungeun’s eyes, but several times worse. She’d lost her mother and gone after the ones responsible. Jinsoul hadn’t seen the effects of her rage, but she had seen the emptiness and pain afterwards. The area around her had been reduced to ashes, including her clothes. Jungeun herself had been covered in ash and trembling, her tears having cleared thick trails down her face. 

Jinsoul had taken Jungeun to the water and the both of them had let the current wash them down. It’d cleared the ash away and brought Jungeun’s thoughts away from her revenge, away from her grief. It’d been a brief moment, but an escape nonetheless. 

Another day, Jungeun hadn’t burned down anything. She’d just sat in a clearing by herself, lost in thoughts that’d grown increasingly worse. She hadn’t wanted to speak to Jinsoul, but she also hadn’t turned her away. 

A week later, Jungeun had told her what had happened. She’d been sent after a mental fairy. They’d dug up every single suppressed memory of Jungeun’s and pushed it to the forefront. 

Jinsoul still didn’t know what half of those memories were. 

So now, she just brushed her thumb over Jungeun’s skin. 

Jungeun leaned into the touch. She didn’t want to be alone today. 

Jinsoul sat down and pulled Jungeun closer to her. Immediately, the other girl leaned her head on Jinsoul’s shoulder. 

“Hey,” Jungeun murmured. 

Jinsoul smiled. “Hi.” She brushed a hand through her hair. She gave Jungeun some light. She wished she could help her warm up better. 

Jungeun let out a long breath through her nose. The flame in her hands disappeared. 

She wanted to ask what happened, what was going through Jungeun’s thoughts, and what she could do to help. 

She didn’t. All Jinsoul could do for her now was sit here. 

The look of defeat in Jungeun’s eyes clawed at Jinsoul. While Jungeun had come far from the person she’d once been, she hadn’t lost this part of her. A part filled with cuts and gashes from the past. 

Those cuts had healed, but Jungeun had sealed them with fire. In turn, the scars she’d left were jagged and far from faded. 

“You know how I got this?” Jungeun lifted a hand to her chest. Her brow twitched as she did. Did it hurt when pressure was applied? That would change how they needed to handle this. 

Jinsoul pushed those thoughts away. It wasn’t about healing the darkness. It was about listening. So she said nothing, but squeezed Jungeun’s arm. 

“When that fairy tried to kill us,” she faltered. “She stabbed him. Missed his heart, so he was taking a while to go.” Her brow furrowed and she shook her head. “Sorry.” 

Jinsoul didn’t need to ask what she was sorry for. Jungeun could talk about violence and her past as if it was completely detached from her. She never spoke about it like it was: trauma. 

“So I took out what she used for it. It was cold, colder than most spirits are,” she sighed, “it sped up the process, but she doesn’t know it was me who killed him.” 

Jinsoul didn’t respond. She took one of Jungeun’s now warm hands in her own. That warmth was only from the fire. It’d fade soon. 

Most of them had killed. In a long life where other groups and species were either allies or enemies, it was almost inevitable. 

 Jinsoul had always been the healer. Her experience with fighting was small. She was more than happy that it was. 

But if you had the magic and ability for it, then you fought more. Jungeun’s magic was fire, something always thought to be destructive, and she’d always been ready to use it and a blade. So she’d been the designated warrior for her old clan and the Astra.

It’d be a lie to say that fighting for one’s people didn’t take its toll. For many, it was still an honour. It was one for Jungeun, but she bore the burden more than she thought she did. 

If one paid attention, they saw that burden. And Jinsoul had only ever seen Jungeun with that burden. She didn’t know the person she’d been before then. Her father didn’t talk much about that. He was just as entrenched in battle as she was. 

“If we see her again,” Jungeun sighed, “She might need to talk.” She took a shaky breath. “She didn’t want to kill someone who deserved it, but she did here.” 

“She’ll still think back on it,” Jinsoul finished. 

“She isn’t a killer.”

Jinsoul fought a frown. She pushed down words she’d said to her time and time again. 

You’re not a killer. 

This was about Hyejoo, not Jungeun. 

“No, she isn’t,” Jinsoul tilted Jungeun’s head to look at her, “and when we see her again, we’ll make sure she knows that.” 

Red eyes closed. “That fairy was sent here to finish the kill,” she said. “And we sent him back. Dead.” Her eyes opened. “What happens if they want their revenge?” 

“We could go to her,” Jinsoul said. 

Jungeun grimaced. “And if they come here?” Worry filled her features. “He was going for Yerim and me.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “She was the one who stopped him. I don’t think we would’ve stood much of a chance.” 

Meaning, Yerim had seen in that moment what would’ve happened. 

So there were two options: Alluin would come after Hyejoo or he’d come for them. Was he even strong enough for that? It’d been centuries since his own banishment. Had someone trained him? And who had he found? Were they all like Hyejoo? Or had they sought him out, because he let you steal and murder for money? 

It struck her then that Jungeun, Yerim, and other non-Astra could’ve become a part of that group. Jinsoul included. Had Jungeun not braved the storm of the Astra’s suspicion, she could’ve easily left. Would Alluin have tried to recruit her then? 

And if he had, he would’ve had one of the best warriors of the elves. If he had someone like that on his side, then attacking the Astra head-on was an option. 

Jinsoul pulled Jungeun closer to her side. She drew in more light, trying to make her body warmer. 

“Whatever happens, we’ll do what we can,” she whispered. Maybe they’d even get other elves involved. 

“And if they want a fight?” Jungeun looked up at her, eyes wide with concern. It was surprisingly vulnerable. She understood that look too. I don’t want to fight. Not this time. 

Jinsoul felt her heart clench at the sight. She knew that if it came to it, Jungeun would still go out and protect them with all she had. As much as they criticised the Astra, as much as the Astra criticised her, the lunar elves were family. Jungeun honoured that just as much as Jinsoul, Choerry, and any other non-Astra did. 

“Unless our peacemakers succeed, we’ll do what we have to.”

“We?” Jungeun stiffened. 

“If you think I’m letting you go out there alone, think again.” 

“We need you here.” 

Jinsoul nudged her side. “I’m not the only healer here.”

“You’re the best one we have,” Jungeun muttered. She spoke arcesh. 

The words made something in Jinsoul’s chest lighter. Jungeun had spent the early years trying to learn the language of Jinsoul’s people. Until then, she’d used her broken arcesh to make Jinsoul laugh at the accent and grammatical mistakes. 

And then she could say things like that, in a gentle voice that let all potential tension between them dissipate. 

It was always hard to argue with Jungeun. Jinsoul knew well enough that Jungeun’s occasional hot-headedness had led to her being in several disagreements, so she was able to argue and stay in those conflicts. Except that never seemed to apply to Yerim, Jinsoul, or the other people Jungeun took responsibility for. She knew what to say then. She knew when to be patient and when to put on pressure. 

“You can let that go to your head.” Jungeun tucked her head into the crook of Jinsoul’s neck. 

Jinsoul had to laugh. She pressed her cheek to the top of her head. Something had eased in her. She wasn’t sure if it was Jungeun’s presence or because she could freely say she was free of her healing duties today. 

“I’m serious,” Jungeun said. “It’s well deserved.”

Jinsoul didn’t reply. Jungeun never failed to praise her when she could. A part of her loved it. The other just wanted Jungeun to accept the same amount of compliments, to see herself in the same light she saw Jinsoul, Yerim, and Haseul. 

“How’s Yerim? I went to her earlier, but she was asleep. Then Yeojin forced me back here.” Jungeun laughed softly. “I won’t tell her this, but Haseul’s rubbing off on her.”

Like you’re rubbing off on Yerim, she thought. She was still torn between being proud and worried. She couldn’t think of a better person for Yerim to look up to. The only drawback was that said person was reckless in her heroism. 

“Tired?” 

Jinsoul realised then that she hadn’t said a word. 

“A bit,” she admitted. 

Jungeun hummed once. “Stuck in your head?” She didn’t look up at her. That meant she wasn’t planning on pressing her. 

Jinsoul tugged her a bit closer. “A little.”

“Yerim’ll be getting help soon,” she said. “And it hasn’t been spreading. Hyunjin’s also doing better than I thought she’d be.” Pause. “So if that’s on your mind, everything’ll be okay there.”

“And how’re you?”

Jungeun didn’t respond. She hadn’t expected Jinsoul to ask after that. She usually didn’t. 

All that she knew about Jungeun’s current state was that she was unable to get warm. She didn’t know how it actually felt. If this was Hyejoo’s darkness, then it probably felt very different to the darkness of spirits. Jinsoul had had darkness in her heart once before. It felt like a lead weight had settled there and it let negative thoughts spiral more easily than anything positive could. 

Jungeun was still full of reassurance and could still make light of things, but Jinsoul couldn’t help but think of the look from earlier. Maybe her darker thoughts were coming to the forefront much more than they should have been. 

And she wasn’t planning on telling Jinsoul about any of that. 

That didn’t sting. It was just another reminder of how much Jungeun still kept to herself. 

Jungeun was quiet. The flame was back in her hands. It twirled around her fingers. Jungeun still believed that her fire magic was only ever good for destruction. Even when she could wield a flame as delicately as this, she thought it was only ever good for battle. 

Jinsoul took the hand that wasn’t controlling fire. Her skin was cool again. 

“It’s like always,” Jungeun said. “Not great, but I’m used to it by now.”

“You’re not supposed to be used to that.” 

“But I am,” she retorted, a harshness to her voice. It softened immediately. The darkness was affecting her. Either someone became irritable or heavy with sadness, sometimes even a grief that wasn’t their own. “It’s just something we’ll have to wait out.” 

We. Jungeun was including Jinsoul in that. She’d have to accept that Jinsoul wouldn’t just be waiting it out. 

Jinsoul lifted her hand and pressed it to the centre of Jungeun’s chest. It was exceptionally cold. 

She stiffened, but didn’t push her away. 

Jinsoul focused the light she had into her hand. She let it go straight to Jungeun’s heart. 

They stayed like that for a while. Jungeun didn’t say anything, nor did she move. Jinsoul only felt the slow motion of her chest as she breathed. She felt her steady heart rate. 

Something stirred in Jinsoul’s own chest. For a moment, she wondered if the darkness over Jungeun’s heart had loosened. She didn’t take her hand away. If she was going to get a portion of it, she would. 

And then Jungeun closed a hand over Jinsoul’s. “I think that’s enough.” 

“Did it help?” Jinsoul asked. She didn’t stop giving her light. She started feeling cold, but that didn’t matter. She’d ease that with a simple drink of water. Jungeun didn’t have that luxury. 

Now Jungeun raised her head. Their foreheads were just a small distance away from touching. Jinsoul nearly pressed them together. It was the equivalent of a hug for some fairies. She didn’t do that now. Sometimes Jungeun let herself be open to lasting touches, others she pulled back. Jinsoul still didn’t understand why, but she’d never worked up the courage to ask. 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Jungeun whispered. “So you can stop.” She gently pulled Jinsoul’s hand away, but she didn’t let go. 

So the darkness had been hurting her. Elre had been in agony in the days leading up to her death. Jinsoul still remembered trying to numb that pain with a mixture of her light and other mixtures for the pain. Nothing had worked. 

Jinsoul pushed the memory of Elre’s lifeless body from her head. “Don’t be stubborn.” 

“I could say the same to you.” 

Jinsoul frowned at her. 

Jungeun smiled. “I feel better now.” 

There still wasn’t a glow in her eyes and her skin was still cold. 

But she was smiling. 

Jungeun squeezed her hand. “And I’ll be okay.” 

Jinsoul wanted to say that they didn’t know that yet, but the warmth in Jungeun’s eyes kept the words from coming. She could go back and forth with Jungeun for hours on something. It was never productive, but neither of them cared. Either it was the amount that Jinsoul worked or the amount of time Jungeun spent on patrol. Jinsoul usually avoided bringing up Jungeun’s recklessness, while Jungeun didn’t press her on what she gave up when healing. 

Both of them rarely gave up, because they usually believed in what they were saying wholeheartedly. Someone from the outside probably wouldn’t know who to side with. And sometimes neither of them would let the other win, not when it was about something related to the other’s wellbeing or safety. 

“Should we go sleep?” Jungeun asked. Her head was on Jinsoul’s shoulder again. Her voice sounded lighter. 

“Not yet?” Jinsoul closed her eyes. “I love it here.” With you, she added silently. To say that aloud would ruin the comfortable air between them. And of course, Jungeun wasn’t ready for that. Even if Jinsoul was. 

“Me too,” Jungeun murmured. “It’s quiet. You’re warm.” She sighed, a relieved sound. “Perfect.” 

Her stomach flipped at that. Jinsoul wondered if immortality let them be immeasurably wise or just stay permanent disasters. Some people counted as both. 

And then there was Jungeun. 

Jinsoul fought a sigh and cleared her mind of that. She decided then and there that she’d just enjoy the rest of the night. Even if it was spent in silence, even if the person next to her was cold, things were, as Jungeun had said, perfect. 

Well, it was missing one thing, but she didn’t think about that. 

______

The darkness had wrapped the vampires in a shroud. 

Except that didn’t say much. Vampires were a product of something darker. They needed blood to survive. Not the blood of animals, but that of people. That included elves just as much as it did humans. Many vampires even preferred elves and fairies. Some hunted them. 

Olivia let the shadows come to her now. Their embrace was as reassuring as it was cold. She felt how a portion curled around her hand. It wanted to solidify. It wanted to become a weapon. One she could drive into their hearts. 

She didn’t let it. She needed to see what they were. And to do that, she’d see what they were going to do next. 

Some vampires could lose control, even if they were ten years old. Be it the way the moon was positioned, a curse from a witch, or an overwhelming sense of hunger, a vampire could be blinded by their bloodlust. 

It was the responsibility of other vampires, fairies, elves, and, as she’d learned, witches to bring them under control. Sometimes that involved trapping them and clearing their head of that bloodlust. Other times, it meant killing them. 

Most of the time, the elves barely distinguished it. Unless they clearly saw the madness, or recognised that the vampire was a newborn and couldn’t control themselves. Some Astra could know the age of a person just by knowing how many moons they’d seen. 

Looking into the future of a vampire could also help. Most seers couldn’t sift through the darkness that naturally surrounded blood-suckers, but those who could were able to see if they’d bring more death. 

And then there were the few Astra who could delve deeper into a person’s past. They could catch glimpses of both their mortal life and immortal one. And sometimes that’d let them know if the vampire had wanted to kill, or if they’d just been overcome by the need to drink.

Yves had been able to do that. They’d restrain the vampire and let her search their past. Then she’d told Chuu what she’d seen. From there, they’d been able to decide if the vampire should live or not. Sometimes they’d been in agreement. Others, Chuu had urged her to let them live. 

Olivia closed her eyes. The thought of those two pulled at the darkness more than seeing the vampires did. And she couldn’t look into a vampire’s past, nor their future. She could only see what was there. And that told her enough. 

She reached for the vampires instead. Not so much that they’d notice a change, but enough so that she could actually sift through the darkness around them. She’d needed to do that with those like her, both when Alluin had trained her and not. She’d learned to distinguish between the darkness the naturally clung to a person, either due to their past, or their very existence. Anyone who controlled darkness was enveloped in it. That didn’t mean they were full of anger. You saw if they were once you looked past their magic. 

In the case of Alluin, there was rage and hatred. In Olivia, the same was there, but it was joined by  fear. He’d attacked that about her then. Others had too. 

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus. She needed to keep the vampires in her line of sight, but she couldn’t get any closer than she was. They’d hear her coming. And if she did something else wrong, they’d also smell her. If they were newborns, or hungry, that would just make them come to her. Even if they were neither, they’d probably also start hunting her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted that to happen yet. 

Within the darkness, she found what separated the four vampires. Two were surrounded by a lot of fear. One was surrounded by both anger and fear. The fourth had anger, but also murder. 

And two of them had more darkness than the other two. It wasn’t evil, but more neutral. Alluin had said that was tied to their immortality. 

So she was dealing with newborns and most likely their creators. That made it complicated. Two wouldn’t know better, while the other two were supposed to restrain their urges. 

It also meant that the newborns would fight erratically, while the elder ones were experienced. From what she saw, they also wouldn’t think twice of trying to kill her if she approached them. Olivia would probably be the first elf the newborns saw. Specifically, she’d be the first elf they’d want to taste. 

She nearly gagged at the thought. Vampire venom drained a person. And she still remembered the feeling of her blood flowing into someone else’s mouth. She remembered how they’d moaned at the taste of her. 

She also remembered ripping him away from her throat, nearly tearing it out in the process. She’d cut his head off. 

Olivia let the darkness come to her. It eagerly sank into her skin, cooling her entirely. The shadows were neither full or fear, nor anger. They just were. When Olivia wielded them, she almost always felt calm. Sometimes she even felt safe. 

Now, she just focused on what would come now. She saw that the focus of the elder vampires was stretched out ahead of them. That same darkness had been going towards Yerim and Jungeun. She’d seen that be directed at her too. It always meant someone would die. 

Olivia gathered up some mud. She made sure her fingertips were properly coated and began to smear it along her arms. To a human, the circular markings would’ve looked random. To a fairy, they would’ve meant: hidden, safe. To Hyejoo, it meant that her scent and footsteps would be hidden away 

The spell didn’t last long, especially not when Hyejoo was in the shadows, but she needed both. The fae magic would keep her hidden for most of the way there. The shadows would keep her mind sharp and strengthen her body. The longer she spent there, the easier the darkness came when called. 

Once the scent of forests became overwhelming, she knew the spell had taken form. 

Olivia set off at a run, her feet making no sound as they pushed off the dirt and gnarled roots. 

The presence of the vampires left a sweet taste in her mouth. It was something that always came, despite the vampires themselves not having a scent like that. She wondered if that was a part of their magic, one meant to make you trust them, make you open your neck to them. 

It didn’t work. 

The moment the cloaking spell fell away, Olivia felt their attention snap to her. The darkness of death began to reach towards her. She saw that same darkness stretch away from her. It encircled the vampires. 

“What is that?” a high voice asked. It was a girl. Young by the sound of it, but that didn’t mean much. 

“An elf,” a velvety one replied. “You’ll like this.”

“They’re after us,” a low voice shot back. Nervousness made it tremble. “Shouldn’t we—”

“Only one,” another said. She had a sweet voice with a slight drawl to it. “That’s an opportunity. We’ll wait.” 

Even before her magic had come, Olivia had found a strange sort of pride in being underestimated. Other Astra had rarely expected her to outmatch them in strength, while the elves and fairies who’d attacked had known she was the one without magic. They’d overlooked her. And then she’d been able to strike. 

The first person she’d killed had been a fairy. Not the one who’d murdered her parents, but she’d treated him as if she had. She still had nightmares where that same fairy laughed at her. Other nights, she relived the moment she’d driven a blade into his stomach. 

Again, Olivia forced the past from her mind. In the present, she reached for the vampires’ shadows. Then she gave them a gentle push. 

She felt their alarm. Then she saw them. 

Two women. Two men. One of them had had an eager smile. It was now a snarl. 

She tightened her grip on their shadows, holding them where they stood. 

“Let us go,” the woman on the left said. She was the one with the sweet voice. 

Olivia felt her magic. It tugged at her, but didn’t bend her will. Unlike others, she didn’t need the spells or sigils to shield her mind. She didn’t know why, only that the darkness protected her. 

She took some relish in the shock that filled the vampire’s eyes. 

So she twisted their shadows. Each of their legs gave out beneath them. The younger vampires fell to their hands and knees. The other two forced themselves to remain upright. 

Olivia knew what she needed to do. Take the lives of two and leave the younger ones alive. They’d struggle to control their thirst, but they would know they needed to. 

But she remained where she was. She saw them crumble to dust before her. That was what always happened when a vampire died. 

And yet they were still before her, eyes either wide with fear, or narrowed with fury. 

Then one of them lunged. He was the oldest. The one so full of anger. 

She tried to push him back, letting the shadows jump towards him. 

He gasped, but he’d already come too far. 

Olivia’s back met the ground in the next moment. Her chest felt as if it’d caved in. She couldn’t even scream. 

But a scream still filled her ears. 

The vampire was no longer on top of her. He was staring at his hands. The fingertips were coated in darkness. Black tendrils were quickly travelling across his skin. 

Olivia knew her grip on the other three had lessened. They would know it soon enough. 

She forced her magic to enter her ribs, numbing them. Hopefully healing them as well, but she couldn’t rely on that. 

She forced herself to her feet and seized the vampire by his throat. 

He shrieked when her skin met his. He was almost warm to the touch. 

She made a ring of darkness around his neck. Then she forced him to the ground. He writhed across the ground, trying to rip it off. 

Olivia knew it wouldn’t loosen. No matter what strength he had. 

The other elder vampire took a step forward.  

Olivia didn’t hesitate when she made her shadow impale the vampire’s legs. She didn’t flinch when she heard her agonised cries. 

One of the newborns broke free then. He tried to run away, still slowed by his shadow. She made a wall of darkness appear in front of him. He slammed into it, but it didn’t shatter. Olivia’s grip on it still faltered. It disappeared, but the vampire was stunned. 

“Move and you die,” she told the second newborn. She had dark blue eyes. They were filled with terror. 

The girl didn’t say anything now. Olivia wondered if she’d even heard it, but the vampire didn’t move. Not even when she let go of her shadow. 

She dragged the other newborn over to her. Something in Olivia’s chest felt as if it was being tugged the wrong way. She ignored it. Her chest would heal soon. 

It only took one look for the newborn to shrink away from her. He wouldn’t be moving either. 

When she turned her attention to the elder vampires, one of them was whimpering, bent over her legs. The skin was completely overcome by shadows. 

Olivia took it all away. It left two legs ruined by blood. 

The vampire also didn’t move, but she did look at Olivia with tear-filled eyes. They were slowly filling with fear as well. 

“You’re her.” 

So even the vampires had heard of her. Was it the title of the wraith? Or the demon? 

She didn’t ask and went over to the last vampire. She hooked her fingers beneath the darkness around his neck and forced him to look at her. The blood vessels in his eyes were black instead of red. She took some of the darkness away. Whatever memories she’d trapped him in would fade. 

“We’re h-hunting,” the female vampire said, her velvety voice now rough. “Just hunting.” 

“I believe you,” Olivia replied. “But hunting is done with care. You don’t kill every deer you come across.” She stepped forward, sneering when the vampire leaned away. “And you hunt with the intent to feed. Not the desire to kill.” 

The male vampire spat at her. How he managed to recover so quickly from the darkness was almost admirable. “Don’t tell me you think their little lives are valuable.” 

Olivia didn’t respond. 

This was where this came from. It didn’t happen for all vampires, but there were a fair amount who forgot that they’d once been human. They forgot that human life could be just as fulfilling, sometimes more fulfilling, than their own. 

From there, humans became worthless. That was where the danger came. That was where mass killings became accepted. 

She finally let the darkness become a blade in her hands. 

She watched the vampire’s face as it scraped his shoulder. She watched the realisation settle in. His eyes grew wide. Then she pulled the blade back. 

And stabbed him in the heart. 

No one screamed in pain at losing him. They just flinched. 

The eldest of the three tried to crawl away, cries leaving her lips as she moved on ruined legs. 

Olivia walked over. She rested the blade on the side of her neck. 

The vampire froze. She looked up at Olivia. She was trembling. 

“Please,” she gasped, “let me live.” 

Olivia held her gaze. “Why?”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean why?” The fear in her got stronger. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” She pressed the sword into her neck. “You had your newborns murder those people. You’re trying to teach them it’s right.” She glanced at the other two then. They weren’t pleading for the vampire’s life. Had they felt a proper connection, wouldn’t they be? 

“You’ve been sucking the life out of the humans just as we have,” the vampire snapped. “How are you any different?”

“I’m very different.” Olivia smiled at her. “And those stories aren’t true.”

A flicker of confusion came about. Then Olivia killed her. 

She knew the dust of both vampires still clung to her clothes. She decided against brushing it off. 

She turned to the other vampires next. They hadn’t run. 

Olivia felt a pang of guilt when both newborns flinched away from her. She pushed it down. 

“Remember this feeling,” she said softly. “This is what those people felt when you attacked them. They were powerless to your hunger, to your strength.” She looked to the boy. Surprisingly, he didn’t look away. “Just as easily as you did, I could end both your lives,” she nodded to the ashes, “but you’re still young enough to be better than that.” 

Neither said a word. Neither of them moved. 

“There are covens all across the country,” Olivia told them. “Vampires who’ll teach you to control your thirst instead of giving into it.” 

“Jae—he said that it didn’t matter,” the boy said. 

“It does,” Olivia replied. “You make your kills obvious, you kill more than you have to, and others will follow.” 

“Like you,” the girl muttered. She still looked afraid, but seemed to have understood that Olivia wasn’t going to kill them. 

It had been that same fear that’d kept the two from trying to fight her. That’d saved their lives. It also spoke for how they’d react in these situations. If anyone went into a craze because of fear, they made themselves a threat. Most people didn’t react well if faced with a threat. Olivia was one of them. 

“Like me.” Olivia nodded. She took the darkness that’d seeped into both, as well as some of the one that corresponded to fear. While it made her feel colder, she didn’t feel the fear itself. 

But she watched as they both relaxed somewhat. Then the brow of the boy furrowed. 

“Why spare us?” he asked. “Aren’t we more dangerous?”

Olivia wanted to retort that she wasn’t the person they should be asking. She wasn’t the person who was supposed to give them any insight. 

But she was the only one there. 

Bring them here if they survive.

They had. 

“There’s a witch. She’s the one who sent me after you.” Olivia forced the darkness to either go back to the shadows or deeper within herself. “I can bring you to her. She wanted to help you.” 

“They said witches don’t help us,” the girl said. “They enslave us.”

“Not this one,” Olivia replied. “She knows the vampires in that area better than I do. Ones we can coexist with.”

“The ones who’ll train us, you mean.” The boy was still frowning. 

“The ones who’ll stop you murdering people who don’t deserve to die,” she said sharply. 

That shut both up. Olivia had expected them to ask her if the other two had deserved to die. Maybe that wasn’t the main question on their mind. 

And when she turned around, she nearly expected them to tackle her and try to drink her blood. They didn’t. They just followed. 

Olivia hoped this wouldn’t wear off once they got to town, closer to humans. She just had to rely on this sudden restraint lasting a bit longer. Then it’d be out of her hands. 

The girl broke the silence once. “Why’d you let us live? How do you know we won’t end up like them?”

Olivia wanted to tell her that wasn’t the wisest question to ask someone like her. When she looked back, she just saw that the girl was frowning at her. She genuinely wanted to know. Where had the self-awareness come from? 

She needed a different response. Something better than, you’ll learn how to not rip everyone’s throat out. 

“I let you live, because I know neither of you actually wanted to kill those people,” Olivia told them. “Neither of you are monsters.” But I am, she thought. 

The vampires didn’t ask her anything else. 

Chapter Text

Hyunjin was back on the cliff again. She was starting to hate it. She wasn’t supposed to move much. The light she got was supposed to go to her heart, not any of her strength. That was something that didn’t speak for the Astra. If they didn’t have any light, they were weak. Even though it was rare, if anyone attacked them, they did it during the day and when the moon was either gone, or in its late or early stages. 

Hyunjin felt that weakness now, but so much more pronounced. She had no light at all. Briefly, she wondered what would happen if she had no light whatsoever. Hyejoo had lived most of her life that way. She’d found ways around it. 

But what happened when if you suddenly lost that part? What would Hyunjin do if everything she did was based on the light? Every good and bad thing she’d done had been through the light. Without it, would she be of any use? Would she hunt animals instead of spirits? Would she become a messenger, instead of going on patrol or even guard? 

She shook her head. She’d had this before. When she’d first come into contact with a bright spirit, she’d lost the light for a day. That’d been terrifying, but Yooa had reassured her that it would returned. And it had. 

This had lasted several days and she wasn’t feeling any signs of it coming back. Still, she needed to hope. The light did give her some relief. She was still tied to it in some way. She had to hope that connection would strengthen. 

“Did you already eat?” 

That voice. It still eased the tension in Hyunjin’s shoulders. It still made her want to smile. 

It also reminded her of days filled only with one other person, when they’d spoken about all that they loved. That had included each other. 

Hyunjin stiffened. She wouldn’t smile. She wouldn’t relax. They couldn’t talk about that stuff anymore. 

“Yes,” she said. “And I don’t need anything else.”

“I didn’t bring anything,” Heejin replied. 

“But you would’ve gone back,” Hyunjin finished. And gotten her exactly what she liked. Her tastes hadn’t changed much in the past century. Neither had her feelings. 

Her stomach twisted. She hated that she hadn’t changed how she’d wanted to. She’d hardened over the years, but that was all. She’d only grown a better shell. She hadn’t been able to grow any stronger otherwise. 

There were footsteps, gentle and tentative. Heejin was coming closer. 

Already, Hyunjin could feel the ease that threatened to overcome her. Another reminder that it would be so easy. She could fall back into laughter and smiles, even embraces. Heejin wouldn’t oppose it. She’d welcome it. And so would Hyunjin. 

But no one else would, she told herself. As always, the thought filled her with disappointment. It brought back the pain of having a love she couldn’t pursue. She was almost pulled into a state of self-pity. 

Hyunjin drove those feelings down. She just thought of wanting to be alone. 

“What’re you doing here?” She didn’t look up. Meeting Heejin’s eyes just made it worse. 

“You need as much light as you can get.”

“I don’t need it,” Hyunjin said. “So if there’s something else you need to do, then do it.”

“Am I not allowed to be here?” Heejin asked, a hint of defensiveness creeping in. 

“What do you think?” Hyunjin snapped. “We’re not going to be training until this is over.” She didn’t bother hiding her scowl. 

If the tone had hurt her, there was no sign of it. “So what now, I can’t see how you are? I can’t give you what I can spare?” It was the voice she used in discussions. The one she used when she was pretending. 

“I’m being helped already,” she said. “And there’re others. You’re not visiting any of them.” She sighed. “People notice.” Why could Heejin not notice that herself? Did she just not care? 

“You’re worse off than them,” Heejin replied. “The others are healing.” 

Hyunjin spotted worry then. She looked away. “I’m feeling better. The healing’ll come later.” 

No response, but Hyunjin knew she was trying to think of one. She knew Heejin’s brow would be furrowed. She knew the exact sort of doubt and concern that would be looking back at her. 

“Honest,” Hyunjin said. “Stop worrying.” And stop coming here. 

Briefly, she wished she could let Heejin stay. She wished she could accept whatever soft looks would be sent her way. She still couldn’t believe that there was still room in Heejin’s heart for her. 

Then she chided herself for that. When she’d realised that Heejin loved her as much as she did her, she’d been ecstatic. And that joy still lingered. She knew Heejin had loved her. She knew she still did in some way or another. Hyunjin still loved her, just as much as she had then. 

And that shouldn’t have been. 

There was a small glow to the side. Hyunjin watched as a large piece of light was laid down beside her. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t need it. The healers say you need a lot more than you’re getting.” 

“You don’t have to be the one to give me that.”

“So should I get Arin?” Heejin asked. 

Hyunjin looked at her. The tone of voice irked her. She didn’t know why. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m not blind, Hyunjin,” she replied. “And I have ears too.” The hurt was very clear in her eyes. 

Hyunjin scoffed. “I’m not sure if you’re allowed to be jealous here.” It wasn’t fair. Heejin was bound to someone else. As far as Hyunjin knew, there was no one. She was almost glad. It wouldn’t be fair to them. 

Heejin flinched. It made Hyunjin regret her words, but she bit back her apology. 

“I’m glad if you have someone,” she said slowly. “So I can go get her if it makes you feel better.” 

“You don’t have to get anyone.” Hyunjin forced herself to look up at the sky. She wished Heejin would go. She needed her to leave. Years of frustration were bubbling up. No one was supposed to see that, least of all Heejin. “I just need to be alone.” 

She wanted to tell her that Arin was a friend. Someone she was occasionally closer to than a friend. Hyunjin could see them being more, if she wasn’t constantly reminded of someone else. 

But she couldn’t say that. She couldn’t say anything that would heal the distance between them. 

“I’ll go,” Heejin said. “But take the light first.” She pushed the moonlight closer. Hyunjin could feel its warmth. She longed to reach for it. “It’ll at least get rid of the cold.”

The unyielding gentleness in her voice. The way it was genuine now and not joined with forced patience. Something in her snapped. 

“I don’t need your help,” Hyunjin snarled. She took it and threw it away. It hit a tree with a sharp crack. “I didn’t when I left and I don’t now.” 

Heejin didn’t reply, but she was looking at her. She hardly seemed phase. 

It filled Hyunjin with two different feelings. One wanted to smile at Heejin’s patience. The other wanted to yell for her to leave her alone. 

She did neither. 

“Please take it.” Heejin held out her hand. The moonlight floated onto her palm. It'd broken into two pieces. “Or I’ll get someone else to come, but that’ll take longer.” She was avoiding her eyes. 

Hyunjin looked at it. It was too much. She shouldn’t have been receiving the half of it. 

She put her hand on top of one piece and drew in half of that. It warmed her immediately. She felt the weight in her chest lighten. It was as if she could breathe again. Not even the light in the waterskins was able to do that. 

“Thanks,” she said, taking her hand away. “Keep the rest. Or give it to Jinsoul for the others who’ll need it.”

Heejin didn’t look like she agreed. Of course she didn’t. But she took the light back. Her eyes glowed brighter, as did her skin. It made her look more ethereal than normal. 

Hyunjin looked away. Her eye caught on something. 

In the distance, a subtle surge of light took form. 

Hyunjin watched it. The figure held a mixture of darkness and light. The darkness wasn’t anything dangerous. If anything, it seemed a lot like what the benevolent dark spirits held. And the light was always gentle, never too bright. 

She knew exactly who it belonged to. 

“Darie’s here,” she said. 

Heejin followed her gaze. She’d still been looking at Hyunjin. 

“Let’s go see her.” She got to her feet. Her hand stretched out, before it fell. 

Hyunjin pushed herself to her feet. What she’d said to Heejin before came back to her. How she'd actedd...

She’d been unfair. She’d let the darkness get the best of her. And she’d snapped. 

She was tempted to apologise, but it looked like Heejin was focusing on reuniting with the fairy. 

So Hyunjin started walking in that direction. Maybe it was better if she didn’t apologise. Maybe it was better not to correct Heejin about Arin. 

She wasn’t sure. And she didn’t want to think about that now. 

_____

Haseul knelt down, plucking a few herbs. She looked over to Yeojin’s side to see her squinting between two different plants. 

“Right is the one for the sleeping draught,” she told her. “Left one stings. We don’t need those.”

Yeojin took from the right one and put it in her bag. 

They were gathering for Yerim’s elixirs. The potency of naturally grown crops was usually more than her own, so Yerim always ended up gathering by herself. Usually, gathering was left to Jungeun and Jinsoul. 

But Jinsoul was tending to the next round of the injured, while Jungeun didn’t have enough light to be away from camp. 

Yerim had planted several different areas with the plants she wanted. She’d never left them in one place. Apparently, that took up too much of the energy within the earth. They also had to be further away from camp for that reason. Haseul had never understood that, but she hadn’t questioned it either. Jinsoul had explained that the effect was actually there when compared to the plants within the camp. It didn’t apply to fruits or vegetables, only herbs with ‘magical’ properties. 

That meant that most of the gathering just involved going to the little outcroppings of Yerim’s massive garden. 

Yeojin had volunteered to do it. Haseul had had the time to go with her. They hadn’t done much together in a few months. 

“How’d you do it before?” Yeojin asked. She was moving on to the little bush with leaves and strange looking berries. The leaves were mixed into potions. The berries were used for a healing salve. How Choerry had kept all of this in her head was a mystery to Haseul. All she knew was which ones were the most important. And that was all they needed to gather tonight. 

“Before Yerim?” She straightened, stretching out her back. Her body was capable of a lot, kneeling on the ground, bent over several plants, wasn’t included. She’d have to work on that. “We traded much more than we do now. It got less when Jinsoul came, but we get by even better when Yerim came along.” That wasn’t the only thing the two brought, but Haseul was sure Yeojin knew full well why it was good to have the two here. 

“So the light doesn’t really heal everything?” Yeojin’s voice was level. Haseul didn’t know what to make of that. 

“No,” she said. “We survive a lot, but we still need help.” 

Yeojin didn’t respond. She was just looking at the ground now, an unreadable look on her face. 

Haseul put a hand on her shoulder. “We should get to the next area.”

Yeojin stood, but the movement was slow. “Did you ever think the moon knew that they’d help us this much?” she asked. “All three of them. Jungeun’s patrols and protection, Jinsoul’s healing, and Yerim’s magic?”

And that was a tricky question, one that went straight into what you believed the moon was capable of, even what exactly it was. Some believed it was sentient, others thought it was just a force of nature, like time. Haseul was stuck somewhere in the middle. 

“I didn’t know why they got the light,” Haseul admitted. “Why were we born into the Astra and not a different clan?” 

Yeojin started walking. The light around her had dimmed. 

“What’s bringing this on?” Haseul asked. She wished she could take her hand, but Yeojin wasn’t in the mood. She just needed to let out her thoughts. 

“I want it to make sense,” Yeojin said. “The moon, Yerim,” she sighed, “Hyejoo.” She looked †o Haseul, doubt evident in her expression. “If we have people who can see the future, that means it’s set. So why were Yerim and the rest meant to come here. Why was Hyejoo supposed to get darkness instead of light?” 

The words were pouring out. Probably countless times spent remembering that day and wanting to know how it had gone wrong. How they had gone from being a family to something fractured. Haseul had had those same questions. 

And she hadn’t gotten any answers. 

Yeojin’s gaze softened. “I know,” she said. “None of us know the answer to that.” She scoffed. “I don’t even think the seers do either. They just know that it’s happening.” Pause. “It’s what they all do with what they know about the future. If Hyejoo’s future is dark, then she’s not supposed to be alive, but she is.” Anger was filling her eyes again. “We didn’t know what it really meant, but we were going to stand by her. Alluin was banished and now he’s the reason why people are dying, but they didn’t know that then.” 

Haseul glanced around to see if anyone was listening. She’d be able to salvage that. While people were used to Haseul saying things like this, they weren’t exactly as accepting of Yeojin doing the same. Even if what she was saying was right. 

“Both times,” Haseul said, hoping what she said wouldn’t be misunderstood. “People not knowing meant they were scared.” 

Yeojin opened her mouth, irritation entering her expression. 

“Wait,” she lifted her hand, “that never meant it was right. We weren’t afraid of Hyejoo. We knew she wouldn’t do that. They would’ve too, if they’d bothered to listen.”

“And the others?” Yeojin shot back. “Gowon knew Hyejoo better than any of us. She should’ve known that Hyejoo would’ve never hurt us, but you’re telling me she was scared?”  

Haseul remembered the way Gowon had looked after that spirit. She hadn’t been scared when they’d taken the three into that clearing. She hadn’t even looked scared when they’d left them. It was only after she’d seen that one spirit. And Haseul still didn’t know what had looked back at her. 

“I am,” she said. “And I know that everything they were thinking wasn’t right, but they weren’t doing it because they hated her.” She still didn’t know exactly why, but she was sure that the warnings of other people, elders or seers, had played a part in it. Haseul rarely truly listened, something that had made things more complicated than she’d expected. 

“So you didn’t drag them out at the end of the night, because you hated them?” Yeojin asked quietly. Her face didn’t suggest what she felt about it.

Haseul froze. 

“After Hyejoo escaped,” her brow furrowed, “I followed you to the clearing.” She paused, her brow furrowing further. “They deserved it.” Her expression turned into one of an intense anger. 

Haseul didn’t like seeing it. It also reminded her of how much more she should’ve done after they had exiled Hyejoo. She should’ve pushed down her anger and helped Yeojin handle hers. Instead it had been left to fester. 

“I,” Yeojin trailed off, “I almost wish you hadn’t gone to help them.” 

“What?” Haseul’s heart sank. “Don’t think like that.” 

“I don’t,” Yeojin said. “Not anymore.” Her gaze was fixed on the canopy above them. “But at the time I had. That means I’ve got a darker side, don’t I?” 

“It just means you were angry,” she told her. “And that you’re still angry.” She brushed some of Yeojin’s hair from her face. “And I am too.” 

“But at them?” she asked. “They kept what you did a secret. You still treat them fine.”

“I’ll never excuse what they did,” Haseul replied. “But it doesn’t make sense to make enemies out of them.”

Yeojin sighed. 

“You’re allowed to be angry.”

“I looked for her,” Yeojin said. “I went to the village and the city near that.”

She knew that. Hyunjin had followed her. Yeojin had snuck out multiple times. Haseul had always assumed she'd been trying to look for her. Either Hyunjin or Yerim had gone after her. Sometimes Heejin as well. And Yeojin hadn't gotten into much trouble with the humans, only ever with spirits and the occasional wolf or vampire.

“And then it was a few months later that she killed those humans,” Yeojin said quietly. “You never told me.” She scowled. “But you let me find out about everything else. Now.”

“We didn’t tell you that,” Haseul replied. “Because,” she trailed off. 

She gave her a look. “You can’t even tell me why?” 

“I didn’t want to believe it.” None of them had. Hyejoo had never been a killer. She’d preferred to help Jinsoul and Yerim when it came to healing. “And I knew you wouldn’t either.” She saw it in orange eyes now. The confusion. The pain. It reminded her of that day. The day when those eyes had been filled with horror. 

“And then there was that human,” Yeojin murmured. “I asked around. People told me he’d deserved it.” 

“People don’t deserve to die,” Haseul said. Of all things that could happen now, she didn't want Yeojin's thoughts to go there. “Maybe they deserve to be hurt, or maybe they don’t.”

“And if they cast someone out?” she asked. “Where’s the justice for someone who’ll just escape those mortal prison? Where’s the justice for the people who’ll keep suffering if they’re left to act?”

“You still don’t kill them,” Haseul shot back. “What if the spirits were actually alive? Their darkness spurs them to kill one of our own, so do we kill it?”

Yeojin looked lost in her own thoughts. About killing and when it was supposed to be allowed. When had this happened? How had Haseul not noticed it before?

“But these are humans,” Yeojin replied. “They can’t be changed by giving them light.” A pause. “They’re also mortal. They change a lot in that little time. These ones changed for the worst.” 

“You can’t take either away.” Haseul took her hand. 

She pulled away. “And what about you? Or Jungeun?” Her brow rose. “Both of you've killed more than Hyejoo has, but no one’s saying you’re monsters.”

“Not here,” Haseul replied. “But there’re elves and fairies who tried to kill me the moment they saw me. They’d wanted revenge for what I’d done to their families.” She brought them both to a halt. “And don’t forget how they treated Jungeun when she came here. Don't forget that people tried hunting her down," she forced Yeojin to look at her. "And remember what we thought of her coming here. Remember that she was the one who broke that image." 

Of all of them, Jungeun had probably faced the worst because of her past. She was still up against it if they came across the wrong people. She also carried the burden of that, even if others had decided to move past it. 

And none of them were numb to that. Not Yves, not Haseul, and definitely not Jungeun. Even Hyunjin, whose time with Hyojung’s group had had its own share of violence, was followed by something. She didn’t seem like she was close to talking about it, but Haseul hoped she would eventually. It never did well to keep that bottled up. 

“I did what I did, because the ones I was fighting would’ve killed me,” Haseul said. “I wish I’d never had to, but it was the only thing I’d been useful for.” She’d never told this to Yeojin. She’d only ever opened up to Jungeun about it. “And now I can kill people more easily than you could.” 

Yeojin didn’t say anything. She was just looking up at Haseul with both confusion and something else. Was it horror?

“If we’re following the paths the moon gives us, then I was just following mine. Jinsoul was meant to heal the people she did. Jungeun was meant to protect the ones she did. And Hyejoo was meant to leave us,” Haseul paused, watching as the words sank in. “Some of those things could've been destined, but I hope it wasn't all set in stone. I hope we can actually make our own ways instead of just listening to seers and following the light.” 

Haseul started walking to the next patch of plants. Yeojin followed, but with a few steps delay. What she'd said would've had her slapped across the face once. She had been slapped for voicing that. And it had only cemented her beliefs. She wondered where Yeojin stood there. 

“If we can make that path, then one day,” Haseul continued, hoping that admitting this to Yeojin wasn’t a mistake. “We’ll have Hyejoo back in our lives. It doesn’t matter if that’s what the moon wants, but if she’s supposed to be in Korea again, we'll have the chance to get her back.” 

“And if she doesn’t want to come back?” Yeojin asked. “I wouldn’t want to be back here.”

“Darie isn’t in our coven,” Haseul said, kneeling down again to inspect the mini garden. As always, it was laid out in the form of a sigil. The one for growth. It made sure that they could gather every few days, as opposed to every few weeks. “But she’s a part of our lives.” And the fairy, Dahyun was her real name, had proven to be an actual friend instead of someone who provided occasional help. 

“Haseul,” Yeojin called. 

She turned, hoping she wouldn’t find that Yeojin’s view of her had changed. 

It had, but orange eyes were looking at her with something Haseul could’ve almost thought was respect. 

“I’m sorry I don’t know enough about this,” Yeojin said quietly. “I’m lucky that I haven’t had to do the things you have, but it means I don’t understand the world like you do.” 

“You don’t have to,” Haseul started. 

“I do,” Yeojin cut her off. “I saw it with Vivi. She doesn’t know any of us, but she understands things more than I do. If she’s really done all the things like what I’ve heard, then she’ll get our people more than I do.” She shook her head, an empty laugh leaving her. “I didn’t like Choerry because I didn’t get why she did the things she did.” She sighed. “But I do now.”

Haseul didn’t say anything. She was building up to something. Haseul wouldn’t interrupt that. 

“I want you to help me,” she said. “I want to find what I’m supposed to actually do here.” 

I want to be useful. That was what Haseul heard in that. It was because Yeojin had gone off on her own, before both Hyunjin and Yerim had followed. It was because they’d gotten hurt and Yeojin hadn’t been able to help. 

If she went deeper, it was because Yeojin hadn’t been able to help Hyejoo. She hadn’t even been able to speak up for her on that day. She’d been too distraught by what she’d seen. 

“I’m on patrol tomorrow,” Haseul said. “We’ll start with that?”

The smile that Yeojin gave her was as bright as the moon. And it was joined with all the knowledge that Yeojin had about what Haseul believed, and what she’d done. 

_____

The fairy was, to put it simply, gorgeous. Her hair was a myriad of two shades of blue, one pale, one deep, like the early night sky. Her eyes kept changing from gold to silver. If an elf’s eyes were unnerving, an emotional fairy’s were otherworldly. Their eyes revealed their emotions. Those fairies could put up illusions to cover their eyes, but they rarely did that. 

It was an interesting type of selflessness there. Those fairies could see all of their emotions and know a lot through that, but they also let outsiders see their own feelings. 

Well, you’d know them if you knew how to read the different colours. 

As far as Hyunjin knew, Haseul, Heejin were the best there. She remembered Chuu and Yves being very involved with that as well, also having learned the nuances between different shades of green, grey, and even more. They’d been taught by this fairy in particular. 

In turn, they’d given her light and led her to different spirits, be it a bright one or a dark spirit in the process of turning. The fairy had learned about light, darkness, and their emotional components. On the other hand, they’d learned about how to read the emotional fae. To a small extent at least. 

“I’m Dahyun,” the fairy gave Yerim a smile, “I’ve seen these sorts of injuries before.” Her crosesh was lightly accented, but nothing compared to most fairies and elves. 

“Did you heal them too?” Jinsoul asked. 

The fairy nodded. “But you’ve got to know what I’m offering first.” A mixture of dark blue and yellow appeared. “You may not like it.” She glanced at Hyunjin then, her eyes turning a soft shade of silver. Caution. 

“It works,” Hyunjin said. 

Heejin looked up then. Hyunjin almost wished she wasn’t there. But even then, they needed her here. 

There was just an increased risk that Heejin would learn more about the years they’d spent apart. 

Hyunjin was ashamed of what she’d nearly done then. She’d been desperate. The only person who’d actually pulled her back from that had been Dahyun. And even though the fairy had never been in Hyunjin’s position, she had understood the desire to rip a piece of yourself out. 

And that was exactly what Hyunjin didn’t want Heejin knowing. It didn’t help that Dahyun and Heejin were surprisingly close by elven and fae standards. All it would take was a question and Dahyun would tell Heejin about those years where Hyunjin had sought her help. Things that could very well break her heart. And as much as Hyunjin wanted to be free of the situation, she couldn’t stand hurting Heejin more than she already was. 

“What is it?” Yerim asked, breaking Hyunjin from her worries. That was good. Getting Yerim healed was more important than any sad story of the past. 

“I need to give you this.” Dahyun held out a hand. A chunk of dark blue had formed. 

“Sadness?” Heejin frowned. “Is that necessary?”

Jungeun and Jinsoul shared the same expression of concern. The former even opened her mouth, not doubt wanting to protest. 

“It absorbs the light,” Dahyun replied. “Sadness tugs at a lot of emotions, especially ones like she has.” She waved there. “This holds excitement, a twisted form of desire, a strange giddiness, as well as fear.” Her eyes turned a dark gold. Curiosity mixed with concern. 

“Numbing?” Jungeun’s frown faded. There was a strange look in her eyes. Hyunjin recognised it, but for a different reason. Both of them had taken on a strange form of darkness. Both of them were facing a different type of pain. It looked like Jungeun was handling it better than she was, but Hyunjin had known her for long enough to know that this might’ve not been the case. 

One look at Jinsoul showed her that she’d also understood. The concern on her face had strengthened. 

Hyunjin watched as Jungeun glanced at her, before looking away. The look in her eyes vanished, replaced by concentration. 

“This’ll get rid of the burning?” Jungeun asked. Dahyun nodded. “I’ll be able to make a thin coating for the entire leg. Should only be an hour or so.” The piece of emotion melted into a short shimmering length of dark blue. It settled over Yerim’s still glowing ankle. “If this feels truly terrible, we’ll try something else.” Then she stood and left the earthen hut. 

Yerim was looking at the sadness on her leg. Her brow was furrowed. “It’s cold.”

“Yeah?” Jinsoul leaned forward, taking her hand as she did. Her eyes were fixed on the emotion as well. 

“And it lives uptimes to what it means.” She gave them a smile, but it sagged at the edges. 

It was only slight, but the scent of fruit had lessened. The flowers were starting to hang from their stalks. 

“You get used to it,” Hyunjin told her. “And it works fast.” She got to her feet. She was already missing the light. 

Maybe Dahyun would have a solution to the cold. It’d barely faded for her. When others were around, it lessened. 

But once she was alone, she felt as she had after first taking the darkness. If anything, she felt worse. 

She heard someone follow. She didn’t look back. 

“Did you find a lot of bright spirits?” Heejin asked. She was a little bit behind Hyunjin, as if walking beside her would be worse. No, walking together in the first place wouldn't look right to people. 

Hyunjin nearly turned her away completely. She didn't. She still felt guilty for how she'd acted earlier. 

But she didn't plan on apologising. Even if she was feeling better because of the light. Heejin's light. 

“We came across more,” Hyunjin said. She looked up at the moon. She still couldn’t call upon the light. If she tried, something in her started to hurt. It was in both her head and her heart. She could only hope that it’d fade once the darkness subsided. “After we cleared houses and,” she caught herself, “other things.”

“Other things?”

Hyunjin remembered that Heejin could easily ask another person, ranging from Hyojung to Mimi, even Jiho. 

“Mortals fight,” she replied. “A lot.” And usually dark spirits struck. Most not in the form of animals, but they terrified anyone unlucky enough to cross their path. Oftentimes, their already frayed emotions got worse. 

Hyojung followed rumours, as well as indications of the moon. That was either through Jiho’s sight or the divination of witches. Sometimes both. They either fought the spirits or came to the affected after. 

And then there were times when the bright spirits braved an attack. Especially if one of them was weakened. 

“Can Dahyun help you?” 

The question made her pause. She looked over. 

It was almost irritating how the moonlight illuminated Heejin. It made her skin glow softly, while her eyes seem even more alive, the light, dancing within the irises. 

Heejin raised a brow now. “What? It’s not like I forgot what happened.”

“I’m asking her now.” She kept walking. She hoped Heejin would remember some duty of hers and leave. 

Hyunjin fought a sigh. She shouldn’t have been wanting Heejin to leave. She didn’t really want that. She just wanted to speak to Dahyun without worrying about the past being brought up. Especially not to someone who’d be deeply hurt by what she heard. 

But of course, when they reached her, the past had already been brought up. 

Gowon was sitting beside Dahyun. Yves was on the other side, while Chuu sat across from them. 

She felt Heejin stiffen. 

Hyunjin held up a hand. They both stopped. Good, she wanted to avoid a clash. Especially in front of Dahyun. The fairy would see it as a problem she'd want to solve. It'd be out of care for all of them, but this wasn't something an emotional fairy could solve. 

“The grey relates only slightly to the emotion,” Dahyun said. “Because you aren’t really afraid of it.”

Gowon’s voice was unrecognisable from its usual youthful pitch. “Not anymore.” 

“All I see is what hurts you,” she said. “And it draws on none of your emotions, so they aren’t being drained from you.” A pause. "Just not properly felt." There was an edge to her voice. Worry. 

Yves straightened then. “You’re here tomorrow too?” She’d seen them.” 

“You might have to wake up earlier than normal.” There was a little bit of teasing in Dahyun’s voice. She usually told them they were missing out on the day by sleeping through it. Dahyun, of course, didn’t sleep much at all. Apparently, excitement kept her well rested. 

“We will,” Chuu stood, “do you think there’s a—”

“Happiness or calm could soothe the pain,” Dahyun replied. “Try it.” She held out her hand. “You’ll have a faint amount of mine, but most of what you have from before will be brought to the forefront, if that’s alright.”

Gowon got up as well. “We’ll see.” She looked in Hyunjin and Heejin's direction. “Later.” 

Dahyun looked as well. As they neared, Hyunjin saw that her eyes had turned a deep blue. She’d heard as much about Hyejoo’s banishment as Vivi did, but Dahyun had actually known her. She also knew the fallout—almost as well as they did. She knew what each person felt about it. 

She also hadn’t grown enraged at the three who’d turned away. She saw what they felt now. Something none of them could—or would, even if they had the chance. Those who held grudges against Gowon and the rest wouldn’t want to know what guilt they felt. The three in question wouldn’t want to know the extent of Heejin’s anger either. 

Looking at them now, Hyunjin was tempted to tell the three to stay. Whatever the problem with Gowon was, it seemed like a burden to her. And both Chuu and Yves were worried about her. 

But they were already leaving. Hyunjin didn’t want to start another disagreement. And that was inevitable if Heejin looked one of them in the eye. 

Not for the first time, she wished she could mend this bridge. Heejin had been involved with fairies who’d killed their own kind and negotiated with elves they’d fought with. She’d been able to tolerate the sight of them, but couldn’t look past the mistakes of old friends. 

They’d been terrible mistakes, of course, ones Hyunjin hadn’t been able to forgive them, but they’d been made. And in an immortal life, grudges weren’t supposed to be held. At least that was what Hyunjin believed. 

“What happened?” Dahyun was staring at her. “I saw it earlier, but now,” she trailed off. She looked to Heejin then. Someone who Hyunjin had told very little about a lot of things, including her current state. 

Hyunjin almost sighed. As much as she liked Dahyun, the fairy was terrible with social cues, including certain secrets. “I took care of the massacre in the northern town.”

Her eyes flooded with silver—worry. Wonderful 

“What?” Heejin leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s anger, rage even,” Dahyun said. “And grief.” 

Hyunjin watched as the fairy’s eyes went from golden confusion to a deeper shade of curiosity. Then dark blue and silver. 

“I don’t feel those things.” Sometimes she felt irritable, even empty. 

“No,” Dahyun nodded, “but do you feel drained?”

Hyunjin wondered what colour her shock was. 

“But your light soothes it?” Dahyun glanced up at the sky. 

She nearly said she couldn’t call upon it. She bit down on her tongue instead and nodded. The light other people gave her eased the ache, before it returned fully again. 

A bit of gold appeared. She didn’t believe her. Not really. 

Thankfully, the fairy didn’t say it aloud. Even then, if Heejin had caught that, she'd definitely remember it. 

“But can we get it out completely?” Worry was starting to enter Heejin’s voice. 

Hyunjin nearly took her hand. 

Dahyun shook her head. “I can’t draw such a thing out, even if it is emotion. Time is always the solution.”

She had tried in other cases. Even tried against the spirits directly. Had Hyunjin and the others not been there during one of Dahyun’s experiments, it would’ve ended a lot worse. Emotional fairies were able to turn the spirits, but the cost of that was a lot. It involved giving away your positive emotions. The more powerful an emotion, the better it was to turn a spirit. Dahyun avoided giving up the stronger emotions, like love and happiness. Most of the emotional fairies avoided that. 

Dahyun had once told her that giving up anything as strong as love or happiness needed to be avoided at all costs. 

While it’d been in response to a very different question, Dahyun had explained the costs of those things. For everyone but the emotional fae, losing an emotion meant becoming incomplete. They either lost entire memories, pieces of their minds, or portions of their soul. Dahyun’s kind could handle it, but that had its own consequences, ones she didn’t even know herself. 

In short, Dahyun had told Hyunjin that giving up a piece of herself would be the most idiotic thing she could do. Fairies could be blunt when they wanted to. 

It won’t get rid of your pain, she’d said. And if you loved her once, you’d just love her again, but you’d not be fully yourself. 

“I can make you a mixture,” Dahyun said now. “Bring some of your own emotions to the forefront and have a few trace things of my own there.” 

“What about mine?” Heejin asked. “Can you give her those?”

Dahyun’s eyes turned sad again, but there was also dark green. That meant she was happy at the same time. About what? 

“It’s unwise for you to share like that. Especially if it doesn’t help.”

“Doesn’t help?” she repeated. Her brow was furrowed. The worry was slowly becoming desperation. 

Hyunjin put a hand on her arm. “We’ll wait to see what happens.” As far as she knew, very few had gotten the darkness of a person stuck in their hearts. They’d only ever dealt with that of spirits and sites of devastation. 

Heejin held her gaze. Hyunjin felt a slow warmth build in her chest. Was it because of Heejin? Or was she just sending her light that way. Again. 

“What happens if it doesn’t work?” Heejin’s brow was on its way to forming a deep furrow. 

I don’t know, Hyunjin thought. “I’ll find something.” 

“We’ll find something,” she said. 

A small burst of warmth came then. Hyunjin had to smile at the determination there. She turned away then. 

Dahyun’s eyes had glazed over. In her hands was a blue cloth the length of a hand. Blue kept being added to it, coming from thin air. Looking at it, Hyunjin felt a weight settle over her shoulders. She looked away from that too. 

“I can at least say that the ache fades around those closest to you,” the fairy said. “The emotions directed at you, as well as the ones you feel yourself, will be largely positive.” A small smile. “So no use isolating yourself.”

Hyunjin snorted. “You’re one to talk.” She’d met the fairy after she’d temporarily left her clan. Something about a new core emotion forming. Hyunjin didn’t understand it and she hadn’t asked either. Dahyun had a habit of unconsciously tearing a concept apart, like the soul or moonlight. She’d make your head spin and she’d smile while doing it, completely entranced by what she was talking about. Hyunjin usually came away, closer to a crisis than she liked. 

Dahyun grinned. “And I’m now highly social.”

She chuckled. The warmth spread. Then she frowned. “Are you doing that?”

Dahyun shrugged. “If it helps the cold, don’t question it.”

Heejin sat down. She looked up at Hyunjin, half hopeful, half expectant. 

“This’ll be a half hour work,” the fairy said. “Then we go back, hope the sadness doesn’t become terrible for her, and then bind the wound. I’ll discuss what Jungeun’s issue is, tell Jinsoul what other healing methods could help, and then reconvene with your newest addition.” 

“You know Viian?” Hyunjin knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. Dahyun was truly a social fairy. A huge exception when it came to just about all of her kind, but social nonetheless. When she’d left her clan, she’d gone around to many different groups, learning more about their language, as well as their customs. She’d even gone as far to teach them of her magic. 

It was during that time that she’d discovered how to make emotions a physical thing. Just like how the Astra could make light something tangible. While a lot of that magic was kept secret, Dahyun had taught elves like Heejin and Yves about the colours. She’d also been a bit more generous with helping the Astra, because of how similar their two kinds of magic were. Apparently, light was filled with emotion, so was darkness. While Dahyun couldn’t control it, she understood light surprisingly well. 

“I know her well,” Dahyun said. “A bit more than I know the rest of you, actually.” She smiled then. “She helped me adjust to mortal systems. Specifically one that had courts and strict laws.”

“The one where you stole those books?” Heejin asked, a smile playing on her lips. 

Dahyun’s eyes flashed orange. Amusement. “Perhaps.”

Hyunjin laughed. She hadn’t expected Viian to help with something like that. They really did need to bring her further into the fold. Haseul had told her that Heejin was slowly getting away form that baseless resentment. Hyunjin was relieved. A part of her was also proud. 

“She’s one you can look too for help,” Dahyun said. “Even if she knows little of your magic and people, she knows very much about the rest of the world. More than most here.” Her gaze lingered on Heejin then. 

Said elf didn’t reply, but Hyunjin saw shame in her eyes. A part of her was also relieved that Heejin regretted how she’d acted. She didn’t know how she would’ve felt if Heejin had continued as she had. 

It might’ve even made the act of stopping to love her easier. 

But of course, Heejin had recognised she was wrong. She’d recognised that it was useless to keep acting as she had. 

It made loving her all the more easier. 

Something Hyunjin had once wished she could stop doing entirely. 

_____

Jinsoul eyed the blue bandage. It was eerie how it matched her own eyes. 

And it meant sadness. Was that a coincidence? Or purposeful? And was there something that decided that?

She looked to Yerim then. Purple was the colour of love. If Yerim had anything to give, it was exactly that. But she also spread happiness like she did light. And that was green. 

With Jungeun, red meant anger. As much as Jinsoul wished it hadn't been, Jungeun's life had been full of that. Either battle-induced rage, or early on hot-headedness. Jungeun had admitted to having that when she was younger, but when Jinsoul had met her, she'd been surprisingly level-headed.

And while she'd seen Jungeun lose control, but she’d also seen her forgive others before anyone else would. She could also be more patient than most others, even if the person she was talking to hadn't given her a chance. Jinsoul had seen enough of that when she'd first come to the Astra. The colour of their eyes couldn’t just mean one thing. 

Yerim sighed as the sadness was wrapped around her leg. “Better,” she said. “Much.” A weak smile started to form. 

“Take it off every hour,” Dahyun said. “Then hold this.” She took Yerim’s hand. Her eyes turned a deep green, like Haseul’s eyes, but without the gleam. 

A ball of the same colour appeared in Yerim’s palm. 

“That’s yours, not mine. You will rarely feel too much of your own emotions, but that can happen with the sadness I’m giving you. This’ll keep it from being too much for you to bear.” 

Yerim nodded. Jinsoul felt the beginnings of tear forming in the girl. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but she still didn’t like that she was feeling so sad. 

“Thank you,” Yerim said. “Really.” 

Dahyun smiled. She’d been the main contact of the Astra for a reason. She was understanding of their differences, but looked past them enough to actually befriend a few of them. 

“I’ll leave you then." She looked to the two of them. "You should also give her some time to adjust. It’s a lot for the first few hours.” 

Jungeun stood up first. She squeezed Yerim’s shoulder. “I’ll come back later.” She glanced at Jinsoul. “We both will, probably.”

Yerim nodded again. Already, the light wasn’t as bright in her eyes. 

This will work, Jinsoul told herself. It had to. 

When they left, the scent of flowers was replaced with forests. It seemed stronger than normal. 

After walking for a bit, away from camp, Dahyun turned to Jungeun. “And you?” She looked worried. 

Jungeun looked caught. “I don’t need anything.”

Jinsoul heard the lie easily. 

“It may be less than what she has, but Hyunjin asked me to help,” the fairy held up a small pouch, “this may help, as I hope it will her as well.” 

Jungeun looked at it. “Which emotions?”

“In you, there's pain, a combination of grief, regret, and anger, as well as sadness,” she replied. “In here, there’s positive emotions. Small enough that you needn’t worry about getting sick, but potent enough to help with your other emotions.” Her eyes glazed over, now a combination of silver and gold. “Once they’re brought closer to that darkness, it may help soothe that,” she hesitated, “ache.”

Ache. The pause bothered her. The furrow in Dahyun’s brow also wasn’t reassuring. 

Jungeun was still staring at it. She was debating whether or not she’d take it. 

So Jinsoul nudged her arm. 

She jumped and took it. “Thank you.” She just stuffed it into her pocket. 

Dahyun stretched her arms out. Her eyes flashed yellow and she straightened. “Now I’ll find Hyunjin, do the same there, then help Chaewon and her own plight.” 

Jungeun frowned. “Is she hurt?”

The fairy shook her head. “She has been hurting for a time,” she said, eyes now purely dark blue. “While I understand little about your moonlit bonds, I can see how those emotions stretch between you.” Her brow furrowed. “And here the emotions have been stripped from her, leaving holes one shouldn’t ever have.” Her eyes flickered to the space in front of Jungeun then. 

“Holes?” Jinsoul repeated. She hadn’t seen anything like that. And since when did Gowon have a bond?

Dahyun grimaced. “It’s why I’ve never agreed to take away another’s emotion. It’s unnatural, to say the least, and to rid yourself of even one piece of emotion is to take away a precious part of your being.” 

“Then why do you do it to yourself?” Jinsoul knew how selfless some fae could be, but letting others have pieces of your soul went too far. 

“It’s different for my people,” she said simply. “The emotions I hold could never be felt by any of you, merely because of how much there is.” Her eyes remained blue. “It’s why they can become effective weapons and we can handle,” she paused. Her eyes turned partially gold. “Just as you can handle the light you hold, such a thing would drive me mad. The darkness you can handle couldn’t fade in me as it does in you.” She shrugged. “I can both hold a great amount of emotion, but I can also give away a fair amount too, while none of you can give much away.”

“So what happens to Gowon?” Jinsoul asked. If ‘normal people’ weren’t ever supposed to have those holes and Gowon did, what would that mean in the long run?

“She went years without it worsening. Now it’s fluctuated.” The fairy’s eyes were silver again. She was worried. “I’ve never seen anything like it, but I’ll try what I can.” Then she gave them both a warm smile—somehow she always managed to do that, even if her eyes were literally saying something else—and was off. 

One thing about the fae, especially the emotional and mental, was that they had no filter. If you were surrounded by people who knew either every thought or every emotion of yours, there was almost no point in lying. Apparently, no mental fae could read Dahyun’s mind. It was one of the reasons why they trusted her more than most. She’d also helped with those scarred by prior battles or spirit encounters that’d left wounds that couldn’t be healed by light. 

Dahyun had never lied when helping them. Some pieces of information may have been omitted, usually because they were too complicated, but she’d never hid something to hurt them. That honesty had been on full display here, but maybe not in the way everyone wanted. 

Because neither Jungeun or Jinsoul held a massive grudge against them, the fairy probably thought they could be let in on Gowon’s situation. 

Every now and then, Jinsoul had been tempted to ask Dahyun if she could answer some of her other questions. 

Two things always held her back. One, Dahyun had almost no comprehension of anything romantic. She didn’t even have the concept of flirting in her mind, if certain interactions were anything to go by. Two, and most important, it’d overstep a line that Jinsoul never wanted to cross. To break Jungeun’s trust was something she’d never done and would never do. Sometimes just telling a white lie was hard. 

“See,” Jungeun smiled at her, “it’s fine.”

”Fine?” Jinsoul stared at her. “What—”

“Look at what’s in here,” she unwrapped the string on the pouch, “nothing’s dangerous. We’ll just try and see if it works.”

In the cloth were four pieces of emotion: two pieces of calm, one of orange humour and one of purple love. 

“If it helps,” Jungeun continued. “Then maybe we just have to get more creative on how we heal this type of thing.” 

“By making sure you’re relaxed the entire time? Then making someone like you or Hyunjin laugh?” And getting the two of you romantic partners, Jinsoul added in her head. There were two options for Hyunjin, one wasn’t allowed, the other would make the forbidden person hopelessly jealous. And for Jungeun—

She pushed those thoughts from her head. 

“Maybe it’ll be worth a try.” Jungeun tapped the green shard. Then she smiled. Her eyes became slightly brighter. Anything was brighter than the dull red from before. “Definitely makes me feel better.” 

And that was what mattered. 

Jungeun hadn’t told her what the darkness felt like. Not really. She’d just worn a smile and given her reassuring words. There’d been the brief moment of something else, but when she’d woken up, that smile had returned. 

But now, watching as Jungeun relaxed, Jinsoul realised how much the darkness might’ve been affecting her. And if it was hurting, if these emotions were just soothing it without healing, then what else was there? Light didn’t work. Jinsoul had no idea what else she could do. She couldn’t even take the darkness from her. 

Or at least, Jungeun would never let her try. She’d argue that Jinsoul would get stuck with something she couldn’t heal. Even if that meant she’d be stuck with something that just got worse. 

And what about the ache Dahyun had mentioned? Was it related to the holes Gowon had? Or something different? If it was a hole slowly growing in Jungeun’s heart, what would that mean? 

“‘Soul,” Jungeun moved so she stood in front of her, “it might’ve not sounded so great, but this isn’t that bad. I’m the one feeling it and I’m telling you it’ll be alright.” Her expression had softened. It was exactly the one that could ease so many of Jinsoul's worries. 

Jinsoul wanted to share that confidence now, but she couldn't. She didn’t know much more than she had when it’d first started. More people were getting hurt in ways that didn’t heal that fast. They were losing numbers for patrol and guard. If Jinsoul didn’t find a way to heal all of that quickly, then more would lose their lives. 

A cool hand cupped Jinsoul’s face. Her head was tilted so it looked right into red eyes. While they were still dim, they looked better than they had in days. 

Jungeun smiled at her. A genuine one. The one she reassured people with. The one those people believed, because they saw how convinced Jungeun was. How sure she was that everything would be alright. 

“Let’s get something to eat, then bring it back to Yerim,” she said. “And we’ll see if it’s helping with her own light.” Jungeun took away her hand, only to grab Jinsoul’s. 

Jinsoul let herself be pulled back to camp. 

Jungeun looked back at her now and again. The darkness still clung to her chest and Jinsoul knew it was affecting her—hurting her. Dahyun had seen it easily too. 

And yet it was Jungeun in the lead. She didn’t know much more than Jinsoul did, but she was leagues more hopeful than she was. And one of her concerns was making sure that Jinsoul felt that hope as well. 

A small flutter of something formed in Jinsoul’s chest. It made her feel warmer and heavier at the same time. It gave her legs the strength to keep up with Jungeun. 

Said girl’s smile brightened when Jinsoul was at her side. Jinsoul watched to see if the hesitation would come. It usually did when Jungeun seemed to realise they were straying away from their years of friendship. 

It never came. Jungeun’s eyes were just a brighter shade of red and an easy smile had fully spread across her face. 

And even though Jinsoul was still worried about what tomorrow would bring, she let herself focus on the person beside her. She didn’t look at the darkness, only the brightness in Jungeun's eyes. 

I love you, she thought. 

The flutter in her chest started to ache.

She ignored it. 

Chapter Text

Gowon looked down at the bond. It was dark, but threaded with silver and grey now. She wondered what happened to it to make a part of it go back to the way it was. Was Hyejoo farther away? Or was it because of what she was doing? Or something Gowon had done? 

Dahyun had seen no connection. What she’d seen had ended at one point. That point would’ve been the part of the bond that had shattered. She still saw its pieces extending away from her and reaching towards Hyejoo. 

Gowon wondered what it would be like to follow it. Would the pain ease or get stronger? Would her head be filled with thoughts of Hyejoo when they were happy or memories of the banishment? 

And would Hyejoo feel anything from it? Or nothing at all. 

If anything, Gowon wished Hyejoo wasn’t feeling the same pain she was. What happened if Gowon went closer and Hyejoo started feeling that pain? If she saw her, Hyejoo wouldn’t just feel hatred and anger, but also the pain from what they’d lost. 

Gowon didn’t want to risk that. This pain was her burden. It wasn’t even that large of one. Hyejoo was out there, taking on jobs that would help her along in whatever life she had now. She wasn’t home. And if things were as bad as Gowon feared, she was also being hunted. 

And Gowon would be the last person Hyejoo would want to protect her. 

She could only hope that the rest, the ones Hyejoo still loved, would be enough to defend her if it came to that. 

“Please tell me there’s more we can do,” Jiwoo said. She sounded more troubled than Gowon felt. Was it really so terrible? There were worse things that Gowon could be suffering from. 

Dahyun shook her head. “I can only say that time would heal these wounds.” She looked at Gowon with bright silver eyes. The fairy was also more worried than Gowon was. “Because it’s not one specific emotion that was taken away through this.”

“You mean it was everything I shared with Hyejoo,” Gowon said. 

She nodded. “Some has been left over, but many of the positive things. The care you had for her, the happiness you felt when around her, excitement—”

“I don’t think you need to keep going.” Gowon really didn’t want her to continue. Positive emotions meant love as well. It meant that she was missing a part of that. Did that mean she didn’t love Hyejoo as much as before?

“What I can do,” Dahyun began, “is try and coat those holes with your other emotions.” She shifted so that she was directly in front of Gowon. “And whenever you’re wielding light, you need to push it towards that bond. You have to directly try and soothe the pain you’re feeling.”

“It’s not that bad.” Why couldn’t they get that? Was she really giving the impression that it was worse?

“Don’t start that,” Sooyoung said sharply. 

“I’m not.” Gowon glared at her. “It hurts, yeah, but it’s never been agony. It was when the bond broke, but it isn’t anymore, so why can’t I just live with that?”

Dahyun’s eyes were dark blue instead of silver. “I can feel that there’s an emptiness within you. The rest will be able to as well.” 

“And is that a problem?” She tried to keep her voice level. Dahyun was here to help them. “Let them see another consequence for what I—we did. I’ve lived with this for years and I can keep living with it.”

The fairy shook her head. “You shouldn’t need to be living like this, Chaewon. Pieces of you are missing and the only way they’ll be replaced is with new memories, all of them positive.”

Replace. As if she could replace those things. 

“I haven’t asked your seers about this. That will be up to you if you do or not,” Dahyun said. “But I would imagine that your path isn’t as bright as it should be. I don’t see this hurting you more than it already is, but it won’t let you live as fully as you once did.”

“What does that mean?” Jiwoo’s brow furrowed. She looked as if she knew what Dahyun had meant and that knowledge scared her. 

“It’s difficult to describe if you’ve never felt it before,” Dahyun frowned, “neither have I, not really. Though I know from people who’ve given up stronger emotions, that they become more detached, less closely tied with themselves.” She fixed Gowon with a look. Dark blue and grey. It looked like the steel of Hyejoo’s swords. “They were from my clan. That you have managed without extensive harm is a miracle in and of itself, but that doesn’t mean you will live well.” 

I don’t need to, Gowon thought. She didn’t say it aloud. Not when Sooyoung and Jiwoo’s hearts would break to hear it. 

But the fairy seemed to understand that. Pale yellow surprise flickered in her eyes. Then dark blue took over her irises. “I urge you to be open to finding solutions for this. Try everything you can, from being close to the people you love, to furthering the friendships you already have.” She looked between Gowon’s eyes. She was actually pleading with her to take her words. “You’re immortal,” she said. “That alone has its own setbacks. Don’t let yourself fall into an incomplete eternity in addition to that.” 

Gowon felt trapped. Three people were looking at her with equal amounts of worry. They wanted her to heal from this. Something she’d brought upon herself. 

But what Dahyun was telling them now. It meant that Sooyoung and Jiwoo could never live with themselves if Gowon still lived with pain, or something worse. Gowon had to try. If not for herself, then for them. 

So she didn’t say anything, not trusting if she’d sound frustrated or defeated. Dahyun would know the difference. The other two would be too distracted. She just nodded. 

Dahyun’s eyes brightened, before they glazed over. 

Immediately, a warmth settled over her. She saw Jiwoo and Sooyoung sending her encouraging smiles, holding her tightly. 

Then she saw the smiling faces of Hyunjin, Heejin, and Hyejoo. They’d gone on their first successful hunt together. None of them had gotten hurt and they’d turned two spirits. 

Then she saw the faces of her parents. They engulfed her in a tight hug. Briefly, the scent of jasmine reached Gowon’s nose. 

High-pitched laughter filled her ears. Hyejoo’s eyes were crinkled as she bent over, hands clutching her stomach. Gowon had burnt their dinner. 

The next memory was a hug that lasted several moments too long. The most comforting feeling overcame her chest, drowning out the pain. She was in Hyejoo’s arms. She could still hear her steady heart rate. 

And then the memories stopped. 

Purple and green eyes were looking back at her, not eyes the colour of coal. The two colours swirled within them. 

“How do you feel?” 

Gowon’s face was wet with tears. She wiped them away. The ruined bond still stretched out from her, but she didn’t feel cold. The pain was a dull echo of what it had been. 

“You just reminded me of what I’m missing,” Gowon muttered. She sent Dahyun what she hoped was a light-hearted glare. “Is that all you could find?”

“They’re some of your strongest memories,” Dahyun said. She wiped a few of Gowon's tears away. “I'm sorry for bringing back the sadness of not having it anymore, but that is how I can soothe those other wounds.”

She nodded. It really had taken the worst of the pain away. “Thank you.” 

The fairy smiled at her, but her eyes had turned sad again. “I’ll come back in the next months, see how everyone here is. I’ve already told Jinsoul and Nuala, but I’ll also tell you.” She held Gowon’s gaze, before moving to Jiwoo and Sooyoung. “If anything gets worse, then send word. Even if I don’t know any solutions currently, I will do everything I can to find something.” 

And Gowon knew that she would. 

Jiwoo was smiling at Dahyun when they got ready to say goodbye. Sooyoung wasn’t smiling, but her eyes were warm. 

“You’re our favourite,” Jiwoo said. “You know that, right?” She engulfed her in a hug. 

Dahyun stiffened, surprise glinting in her eyes. She never expected physical contact. Gowon wasn’t sure if she liked it. She wondered if she’d ever fall in love. They’d be lucky, whoever it was. 

“You’re high on my list as well,” she replied. “But I have you all on the same level.”

“Indecisive,” Sooyoung muttered. “Just say I am and we’ll be done with it.” She pulled Dahyun in for a side hug. 

Orange humour appeared, but Dahyun didn’t reply. 

Gowon smirked at Sooyoung. “Clearly, I’m the favourite.”

“I’d say it’s me.” Jiwoo raised a hand. Her peach eyes glittered. 

Finally, Gowon thought. If it took someone like Dahyun to get Jiwoo to lose her concerned or distant expression, then they’d have to get her here more often. 

It hurt that Gowon and Sooyoung couldn’t manage the same as easily, but maybe they’d just have to try harder. 

_____

Vivi found Dahyun at the fire pit. The one she shared with Yeojin and Haseul. 

"I was quite confident I had the right place." The fairy broke into a smile. “I'm glad to see I followed your emotions correctly.”

Vivi raised an eyebrow. “Were they around the fire or in the tent?”

“Both,” she said. “It’s less now, but there was a time when many people visited the wrong fires, sometimes even the tents.” A small frown appeared. 

“I’ll stop you there.” Vivi didn’t hide her smile. As much as she wanted to know more about the dynamics within the Astra, she wasn’t going to have Dahyun unknowingly expose gossip she wasn’t supposed to speak aloud. 

Most fairies didn’t, or couldn’t, keep secrets for that reason. That wasn’t the case in just about every other society. But with the fairies having people who could either read your mind or your emotions, secrecy was a lot more difficult. 

Dahyun nodded. “Thank you.” Her eyes turned a specific shade of yellow. Darker than excitement: embarrassment. “I may have revealed some things I shouldn’t have already.”

Vivi really did want to ask what those were, but she wasn’t in the society of the far anymore. Haseul seemed to be reaching over those boundaries already, offering to actually answer Vivi’s questions. Even if the elf knew a bit more about her past than Vivi did about any of theirs. It was all about acknowledging boundaries. And respecting some of them. 

“How are you?” Dahyun had fallen into the fae language. Most elves just called it fae, its actual name something few could properly pronounce. 

“Now or in general?” It felt so good to speak the language again. Crosesh wasn’t difficult, but she still didn’t feel fully at ease with it. 

She smiled. Her eyes were orange. “I know how you currently are. I’d only know the second if I looked a bit harder.”

“So you’re saying you’re too lazy for that.”

Dahyun laughed. Vivi felt a surge in the light around her. Strange. She’d been spotting those changes a few times. 

“How closely is light connected to emotions?”

The way Dahyun’s yes lit up told her that the answer was: very. 

“You’d be surprised by how close it all is. Even the spirits often coincide with the emotions. Not completely, because they hold a wealth of either bright or dark emotions, which you already know don’t mean they’re good or bad emotions, as happiness is a dark emotion. But that’s why I still think they were actually once people, but that’s beside the point.” She paused. Vivi briefly wondered if it was to catch her breath. “You can feel the changes too now, can’t you?”

Vivi nodded. Bright yellow flooded Dahyun’s eyes. Excitement. Of course Dahyun would love this change. 

“You won’t be able to pinpoint the meaning, but the way you sense changes, you’ll be able to glean certain things. Like if someone was being cheered up or infuriated.” She wrinkled her nose. “But you’ll be going off of normal cues too, and know the exact change there.”

Vivi elbowed her. “So I’m not yet as skilled as you.”

“You’re more than me,” Dahyun said, her expression fully earnest. ”You’ve got stone along with it. Have you already started combining the two?”

It shouldn’t have been surprising that Dahyun knew that, but Vivi still felt it. Had she reached out to Jungeun, Jinsoul, and Yerim as well?

“Started to,” Vivi said. Then, knowing that Dahyun would want to see it in action, she tugged on the stone. It slid through the earth. She called on the light and wove them together. 

Dahyun’s eyes filled with awe. Vivi did wish she could still have that. Her own passion for learning and all that came with it fluctuated. It had all her life, while others had seemed to be more consistent. She’d once thought it was because she was only half a fairy. 

Then she met Dahyun, whose curiosity seemed to outmatch almost everyone else Vivi knew. The emotional fairy had sensed her doubt and immediately asked why that was. It was then that she’d also confirmed that Vivi’s own curiosity was no less potent than that of others. 

“Have you tried it with gemstones?” Dahyun asked. 

“What?”

“We use excitement for light when no one wants to make a fire,” she said. “I can’t tell you how often I scrambled to get a proper bit of light when I,” she faltered, “you know.”

Vivi nodded. The emotional fat had core emotions—essentially their souls. 

Dahyun’s used to only be calm. One day, she’d gotten another: sadness. From what Vivi had seen of the fairy, it’d been painful to adjust to it. 

Dahyun had left her clan, pulling away completely from her emotional magic. She’d chosen to learn about the humans instead, getting Vivi and a few others to help. After that, she’d gone to the Astra.

Sometime during that, she’d learned that emotions could be made physical, similarly to the way light could be summoned. That discovery had given her back the will to use her emotions—to live with that new core emotion. She’d gone back to her clan and taught them the new magic. 

As far as Vivi knew, only the Astra really knew about how that discovery had been made. At first, some of the fae had been insulted that such a thing would be hidden. The emotional fae had countered that they didn’t yet know if the magic could be dangerous or helpful. 

Clearly, something was different when it came to the Astra.

“Are you more open with the Astra, because of how similar your magics are?” Vivi asked.

There was a flicker of blue in her eyes. “It’s your magic now too,” she said softly. “But yes, the Astra are well aware of how dangerous light can be for others. It didn’t take long for the same to be recognised about emotions.” She sighed. “And I can only hope that the rest will properly learn that.” Silver worry brushed across her eyes, before being replaced by pale blue. Calm. Was she doing that to calm herself down?

Then that same sort of calm washed over Vivi. The same type of clarity she felt when holding moonlight. 

Dahyun grinned. “Familiar, isn’t it?”

Vivi chuckled. “I bet you were waiting all these weeks for that moment.”  

“Certainly was,” she replied. “But to finish answering your question. Even though the light is comprised of emotion and so is darkness, it’s still so different. Emotions don’t heal physical wounds. They only soothe them, if anything.”

“They do nothing?” 

Dahyun shrugged. “I haven’t wanted to test any limits yet. 

Of course. If emotions could actually cause physical harm, the emotional fae wouldn’t have found that out. Most of them at least. 

Thankfully, not even their boundless curiosity was tempted to pursue those questions. 

“And now for my own question, which you so skilfully avoided,” Dahyun said, pride flickering in her eyes. It was almost silver. 

“How am I?” Vivi paused to think it through. It actually wasn’t a hard question to answer. “I’m alright,” she said. “Can’t say I’m great yet, but also that the terrible things from before aren’t so much anymore. Not completely at least.” She didn’t know how to describe how she felt about that. 

“You found out about that girl,” Dahyun was speaking Cantonese. Her eyes were still blue. Now, she was hiding her emotions. Who knew Dahuyn could be subtle. 

Vivi was surprised, even if she shouldn’t have been. “How did you know?” Speaking that particular mortal language was also more comfortable than crosesh. 

The corner of her lip tugged up. “There are confusing sets of frustration and sympathy for three of the elves in particular. And then there’s sadness that I know is for her. Many actually feel that way.”

“You mean—” Vivi stopped herself. She had to resist gesturing to the camp. If people saw that and heard that they were speaking in a language few would know, they’d definitely get suspicious. So she just smiled instead. “More people than the ones I know?”

“A large amount feel guilty. Theirs is pushed down more than others, some being more afraid than they are sympathetic.” A pause. “But what they did wasn’t truly celebrated. They were just relieved.”

Vivi met her eyes. Even with one colour, Dahyun was terrible at hiding certain feelings. Especially her sadness. Had she known Hyejoo like she seemed to know the rest?

“I’m going to look for her as well,” Dahyun said. “Perhaps not meet her, though I’m still unsure.”

“She’d want you too,” Vivi said. “She’s lonely.”

She frowned. “Is it it wrong to hope that loneliness would bring her back?”

“Back to this?” Vivi scoffed. “Fat chance of that.”

The look the fairy gave her was a sombre one. As if she was convinced of something, but her resolve was slowly being weakened. As if she was afraid of Vivi being right. Then she straightened. 

“You might be right,” Dahyun said. “But I won’t be going. I’ll see her the next time I visit.”

“And if she’s gone by then”

“I’ll find her.”

Vivi was torn between thinking Dahyun was callous and trying to figure out what the reasoning was here. Reasons that would only make sense to this fairy. She was pretty young by their standards, around half Vivi’s age. And yet she’d gotten a very bizarre maturity in the last years. Was it the sadness? The time spent alone? Or just the way Dahyun’s mind worked?

“I’m planning on taking the long way back,” she said, still in Cantonese. Maybe because falling back into fae would catch more attention. “Want to come with?”

Vivi çould only stare. “Weren’t you across the southern sea?”

A nod. “We’re enjoying it. You might too.”

She was tempted. She really was. Dahyun made for excellent company and never minded extended silences or ramblings. And Vivi trusted her. 

But Vivi had also decided to stay. She’d even told Haseul that directly. 

The thought made her pause. Was that important now? It hadn’t even been a promise, so she’d damage nothing. 

Dahyun laughed softly. Orange took over the blue. She was finished with hiding. “Understood, you’ll be staying.”

“I didn’t even decide yet!” They’d slipped into fae again. 

Her eyes were bright with green and orange. “This is one of those few things I can predict.” Her expression was extremely smug. “You’ll let me have this win, won’t you?”

Vivi fought the urge to roll her eyes. Then she nodded. 

“Well, if that’s that, I’ll be off.” Dahyun was looking in a particular direction. 

Vivi followed her gaze, but saw no one in particular. 

“I don’t much understand their plight, but it’s been on her mind for quite some time.” The fairy got to her feet. “And that sort of pain ought to be eased.” She sighed. “Somehow.” Then she put a hand on Vivi’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. 

“You’re serious?” Vivi smiled as she stood as well. ”A proper goodbye’s in order.”

Dahyun laughed and leaned their foreheads together. “These are good people,” she whispered. “You’ve found some of the best ones among them, but the rest still have a lot of good within them.”

“But I have to be the one to look for it?” Vivi had already done that. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to do it again. 

Dahyun’s eyes turned sad again. “It’s as you told me once. I’m able to hope for the best, because my magic lets me find that without much effort,” she muttered. “But you found it with your people once before, you’ll be able to hear.”

Then she pulled away. 

Vivi sat back down, feeling both light and as if she’d been left with a few more questions. Dahyun was able to do that, with both reassurances and a pointed insights. 

Shortly after, she spotted Dahyun walking to the forest. Beside her was Heejin. 

How much did Dahyun know about the girl’s anger? 

Then the words of before sank in. What pain was Heejin facing? 

Seeing the two together now just brought more questions then answers. 

But there was one thing Vivi knew for certain. If Dahyun didn’t understand the topic at hand, then it was most likely something romantic. 

Had Vivi really wanted to know that Heejin had some sort of romantic trouble? Not quite. 

Then again, with everything else on the elf’s mind, maybe this was more of a mundane problem. 

Vivi had always preferred matters of the heart. At least she had over a lot of the other things she’d faced with her clan. She wondered if that would be the same here. 

_____

“I’ll be leaving soon.” The gentle voice broke Heejin out of her thoughts. 

She looked up. Dahyun was looking down at her with dark gold and blue eyes. Curious, potentially concerned, and sad. 

It didn’t take much to realise that Dahyun was looking through her emotions. 

“Still have someone to help?” Some of the elders had asked her to tell them what else they could do to better the healing processes. A rare example of the Astra letting down their pride. Heejin was beyond thankful they were reaching out. She just hoped Dahyun wouldn’t be overworked because of it. 

“One.” Dahyun raised a brow. “Care to start your guard duty early?” 

Clearly, the fairy didn’t like what she’d seen in Heejin’s emotions. 

They walked in silence. Heejin felt a pleasant surge of calm. Dahyun’s influence. 

Once they were out of earshot, Dahyun turned to her. 

“Why are you in such pain?” she asked. 

Straight to the point. Dahyun rarely spoke around something. 

“It’s tied to Hyunjin,” she said. “Has she done something?” 

Heejin shook her head. “It’s nothing she did.”

“Just the circumstance?” Her eyes brightened with gold. Confusion. And, naturally, even though Dahyun could read emotions, she didn’t understand a key few.

“Like before,” Heejin had to laugh, “but it’s not something I think you can help with.”

Dahyun frowned. “I told that to Hyunjin too.”

When had she told Hyunjin that? And why had she spoken to Dahyun about this? Heejin hadn’t heard a word from Hyunjin about the bond or anything related to the two of them. 

“I can’t take the pain away,” Dahyun said. 

Heejin felt a knot in her throat. “She asked you to do that?” 

Dahyun started. Then she grimaced. She wasn’t supposed to have said that. 

Heejin wasn’t sure if that made it worse or not. 

“What else did she ask you for?” Heejin was surprised at how steady her voice was. 

Dahyun shook her head. “I can’t say.”

“You just told me that. I don’t know anything more,” she said. “I don’t know why.” She knew the reason, but not what Hyunjin had been feeling. She’d never known what had happened after Hyunjin had left. 

Dahyun’s eyes were a deep blue. “I’ve already said too much today. I won’t say more of what I shouldn’t.” She looked at her. “I’ve already hurt you.” 

“It’ll hurt me more not to know.” Heejin could feel her nose start to burn. She forced the tears to stay away. “Because she won’t tell me about any of this.” 

Then Dahyun turned around. Her eyes were half filled with surprise. 

Heejin did the same. 

Hyunjin was standing a few metres away. She was looking between them, her expression blank. 

But Heejin still saw the strain in her eyes. 

“I’ll tell you,” Hyunjin said quietly. “Do you want to be there for that?” She looked too Dahyun. 

The fairy shook her head. “This is something for the two of you.” Then she gave them both a warm smile, even though her eyes were still sad. 

Hyunjin watched her go, arms crossed. 

It was a familiar urge that Heejin had to resist. She wanted to take her hand, tell her that everything was alright. But even then, she wasn’t sure if things were. Hyunjin was still hurt. Heejin hadn’t even sensed her light. She usually could. 

And with what she’d just learned, she needed to hear the reason why. She wasn’t sure if that would make it better or worse. 

“I’ll just say it,” Hyunjin muttered. “After I left, I wanted to stop loving you.” 

The words hurt more than Heejin had expected them to. 

Hyunjin winced. “I didn’t know how I’d do it. Leaving was the first way I saw, being with other people was the next.”

Heejin thought of Arin. Were there others Hyunjin had been with too?

“And when none of it worked,” she sighed, “I went to Dahyun for help.” She rubbed across the skin of her arms, as if cold. She probably was. “I didn’t want any compulsion or spell put on me, making me forget all the reasons why I,” she faltered. “I just needed something that wouldn’t mess with my mind, just how I felt.” 

“So you asked her,” Heejin could barely say the words, “if she could take it away for you.” It hadn’t just been pain. She’d wanted all of it taken away. 

“She couldn’t,” Hyunjin said. Heejin didn’t miss the bitterness in her voice. “Clearly.” 

“Would you have told me?”

She looked taken aback. 

Heejin wasn’t sure if she was overstepping a line. Hyunjin hadn’t lost those feelings, but she’d wanted to. Heejin had wanted many things, but never that. 

“Or let me figure it out myself?” Heejin asked. “When you came back and didn’t feel anything for me?” 

“I just asked her to take one thing out,” Hyunjin replied. She didn’t look irritated. Maybe the emotions Dahyun had given her were helping. “That wouldn’t have meant I felt nothing.” She wasn’t looking at her. 

“Love connects to a lot of other things,” Heejin retorted. “It wouldn’t have just taken away the pain you’re feeling.” 

“I know that.” Her jaw was clenched. “It would’ve taken pieces of me away. We can’t lose emotions like they can.” She met her eyes, the yellow in her own still dim. “Good explanation enough for you? I wanted to lose what I felt, went to her, and she told me I couldn’t.” She turned away fully. “So nothing’s changed since I left.” 

“Is that so bad?” Heejin asked. She looked around, searching for the light of anyone else nearby. There was no one. So she moved so that Hyunjin would look at her again. 

Hyunjin shook her head. “I didn’t tell you what happened so we’d have this conversation again.” 

“We never really had it.” Heejin remembered all too well how Hyunjin had looked after the bond had been revealed. She remembered how she’d felt herself. And how lonely she’d been without her. “And I tried to see what it was that bound me to Priad,” she said. “He can be a friend, but that’s all.” 

She kept shaking her head. “You didn’t try hard enough,” she muttered. “You’re still stuck on trying to find all the ways he’s not the one for you.” 

“Because he’s not.” Heejin knew she sounded harsher in saying that. If someone overheard, they’d be appalled. She almost wished someone had. It would bring out the truth they’d been hiding. She'd rather work to make them accept that the moon could be wrong than hide. 

“Don’t say that,” Hyunjin glared at her, “that’s exactly why you haven’t given him a place in your life. You’re not letting yourself see what the moon’s given to you.” 

She frowned. “It didn’t give me anything.” 

“Yes it did,” she snapped. “His soul is tied to yours. He'll be able to make you feel at home when you're near. He'll know if you’re hurt and his light will heal you better than anyone else’s.” Hyunjin let out a sharp breath. “You can’t deny that just because you couldn’t keep what you had first.”

“That’s not fair,” Heejin said quietly. She already had one of those things, but she didn’t say that. 

Something in Hyunjin deflated then, but she didn’t respond. 

“I’m not losing anything if I don’t agree with what the moon wants.” 

“You lose the person it chose for you.”

“I’m not losing someone I love,” Heejin replied. “But I do if I go along with what it wants.” 

Hyunjin closed her eyes. “Don’t say that to me.” 

“Why not?” Her eyes were burning again, but she drove the tears away. She was already making this hard for Hyunjin, she knew that. She wouldn’t make it worse by crying. “I loved you before I knew about the bond. Learning about it didn’t change that, you leaving for years didn’t change it either.”

No response. Hyunjin’s hands were fisted at her sides. The look in her eyes was painful to see. 

“You said that didn’t change for you either,” Heejin said. “You meant that, didn’t you?” Do you still love me? That was a question she couldn’t ask, even if they were so close to it. Even if she’d gotten something very close to an answer. 

Hyunjin still said nothing. 

Heejin didn’t push her. She waited, though all of her wanted to know the answer. 

She slowly reached out and put her hands over Hyunjin’s fists. 

Hyunjin’s eyes opened. There was such pain there. Seeing it made Heejin’s chest ache. 

“I wish I could tell you I don’t love you,” Hyunjin whispered. “Or that I never did.” She blinked. A tear fell. “But both would be a lie.”

Heejin could’ve smiled. She felt her joy like the warm air of a fire. But Hyunjin didn’t look happy about her words. She looked worse because of it. 

“And I’d break your heart if I told that lie,” she continued. “I never want to do that to you.” Her eyes flicked down to the ground. 

“But you could have,” Heejin said. “If Dahyun had said yes.” It would be worse than any other unrequited love. It would be a love lost completely, but one Heejin would still have to feel.

“I know,” Hyunjin looked defeated, “I knew that hearing it would hurt you too, I—” She faltered. “I tried everything already and it didn’t work. But you—”

“You’re saying I have to do it myself,” Heejin said. “I’m the one who has to turn away.” She brushed her thumbs across Hyunjin’s hands. She felt them start to relax. “That won’t work.”

Hyunjin hadn’t pulled away yet. “Try.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to.” 

Yellow eyes closed again. “Please,” she murmured. 

“Please what?” Heejin asked. “Lie to myself and you? Should I tell you I don’t feel anything?”

Again, Hyunjin didn’t respond. That meant yes. 

“I can’t do that,” she said. 

“You never tried.” Hyunjin’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t accept the bond when they told you about it. And you never tried to see its value either.” 

“I did try,” Heejin said. “When you left, I did try to see what I was supposed to love about Priad.”

She didn’t miss how Hyunjin winced. 

“I didn’t find enough. Everything he had, you did too. What he didn’t have, you did,” she let go of one hand to cup Hyunjin’s face, “how can you tell me this isn’t right?” 

Being so near to her, when nothing had happened, when they were just able to speak to one another—it made her very aware of the girl in front of her. She could almost feel the pain coursing through Hyunjin now. 

Hyunjin’s heart had broken on that day. Heejin had been angry, but she’d not thought she’d lost Hyunjin. She’d never thought she’d lost her. Hyunjin had thought she’d lost Heejin. Heejin wanted nothing more than to tell her she hadn’t. 

“Hyun,” Heejin whispered. “What if the moon was wrong?”

Hyunjin held her gaze. Heejin welcomed every moment she could look into them, even if what she saw pained her. She couldn’t read what she saw now. She thought she saw longing. 

“Don’t start asking that,” she said, a plea in her eyes. “Don’t act as if this would work.” Then she took Heejin’s hands in hers, before pulling them away. “I told you what happened.” She let go. “So unless you need to ask more, I’m going back.” She glanced at the forest around them. ”You’ll have more spirits coming than if I’m not here.”

A terrible excuse. Heejin didn’t know why Hyunjin had to say it. Maybe she was just filling the silence, trying to get back into a false sense of normalcy. 

“Okay,” Heejin held out a piece of moonlight, “take this? For the walk back.” 

Hyunjin eyed it for a long moment. Heejin nearly took it back. She’d pushed Hyunjin a lot, maybe too much. 

Then she took it. It melted into her skin. 

When Heejin looked up, she saw that Hyunjin’s eyes had gotten a slight glow to them. 

“Thank you.” The corner of her lip tugged up. Then it fell again. “I’m sorry.” She turned and walked away. 

The ache hadn’t subsided. Without Hyunjin near, the weight of what she’d heard settled over her. 

Nothing had changed. Hyunjin had tried to stop loving her, but hadn’t been able to. 

And she still wished she could stop feeling what she did. 

Chapter Text

“Jiwoo?” a voice broke through the bustle of the tavern. 

Chuu started, nearly spilling her drink. The place she’d discovered had better soju than others. She should’ve known that the others would come there. She’d hoped they’d have just gone to the more refined places. “Hi?” 

Sooyoung sat down in front of her, a frown on her face. “Why’re you here?” Her now brown eyes made her look less ethereal, but no less beautiful. Chuu already saw how the eyes drifted towards her. She herself was more unassuming. She also never tried to look confident around the mortals. They seemed to be attracted to that. 

“I have the day and the night off.” And the world around me is getting darker. She didn’t add the last part, but it spurred her to pour another glass. Surprisingly, it hadn’t taken much to give Chuu a buzz. She knew she got easily intoxicated from the wines and other terrible drinks Jinsoul sometimes brought back from the rest of the world. And she had no intention of being drunk, only to have a lightheartedness. 

She did feel light, but the rest of her still felt heavy. Why people felt it necessary to drink away their sorrows, she could hardly understand. She was already starting to feel disappointed in herself. Was she really trying to help herself through a drink? 

At least the drink tasted good. And she'd actually enjoyed being surrounded by complete strangers. Some said that being alone was dangerous. Had Chuu not had her magic, let alone her enhanced strength, she would've agreed. 

“You were going to gather news.”

“I did.” Chuu patted the light cloth bag. “Nothing much of interest.” Only more information on the different tasks Hyejoo had been doing. No mortals had been killed. For that Chuu was thankful. 

She looked around, finding the others engaging in conversation with a smaller group of guards. They were young. 

“I think I’ll be going,” Chuu took out the money and drank the rest, “the next place ought to have more to tell.” It made sense. Hyejoo would have had an aura that few mortals would want to face. She’d go to the more dangerous of places. There, at least, people wouldn’t pay too much mind if someone was threatening. Then again, the view of women among most humans was still flawed. While she had no doubt that Hyejoo could handle herself, the attempts of men to take advantage of her had the potential to be dangerous. For them. 

A hand gripped her wrist. She hadn’t seen it coming. That was becoming more frequent. “Next time.” 

“I won’t be stumbling my way over,” Chuu laughed, “though that might help me get in.” She got to her feet. She was hardly dizzy. Was it her mind that was healing now? Maybe she'd ask Jinsoul. "I've also got to get a wolf some chains." Even though a full moon caused the transformation, a bit of moonlight laid across restraints seemed to soothe a wolf. It at least kept them in one place longer than normal. And if a werewolf was on the loose, any time they could win could save a life. 

Sooyoung didn’t let go, but stood with her. Then she said, “I’ll come with you.” 

“You’ll come along?” She spared another glance at the table, only to see Teveril glancing over at them now and then. “I think someone will miss you.” 

Her eyes didn’t leave hers. “This’s important.” 

“You having fun is important,” Chuu replied. “And I’ll tell you everything.” She patted her hand and pulled her arm away. “When I go back.” 

Sooyoung frowned. "You don’t want me with you?” 

“That’s not it,” she protested. She wondered if it would have been better if she'd said yes. “It’ll just be better for both of us tonight.” Already, pits of jealousy were forming. She wouldn’t stay, but she also didn’t want to know much else about the rest. 

The hurt flickered across her eyes. “Alright.”

Chuu wished she could explain more, but that would just bring more questions than she ever wanted answered. And with what had happened recently, she’d been getting worse at hiding her sight. So much had been happening, too quickly at that. Like with Hyunjin, Yerim, and Yeojin. She would've been a fool to not follow what the moon had shown her just to keep a secret. 

“Don’t frown,” she said softly. “I’m a little more capable than you think.”

Sooyoung smiled, but it was weak. “It’s not that I’m worried about.” 

“Then you don’t have to worry at all.” Chuu grinned at her and left. It didn’t feel like the right way to talk to her, but she didn’t know how else to do it. If she spoke and acted as she wanted to, she’d do everything wrong. And then they'd fall into something determined by fate. That was something Sooyoung wouldn't want. 

It was better this way.

She was reminded of that when she heard Sooyoung’ low laugh. She could feel how the light around Sooyoung brightened then. This was how it had to be. Even if the light binding them still hadn’t dimmed, it would. Eventually.

And then both of them would be free of it. 

______

Five years ago 

“You know,” Sooyoung smiled, “it’s really incredible what you can sometimes see.” Her red eyes had glazed over. She was looking into the past. That aspect of the sight was more common, but most people used it only regarding vampires. Chuu had always wished she'd been able to do that. 

Chuu nodded, before realising Sooyoung wouldn't have seen that. “The past is, by all other accounts, more richer than the future.” 

Her gaze focused and she grinned at her. “Don’t lie,” she chided, “you’re always looking forward.” 

The heat rushed up her face. She looked away, hoping that would just make her just seem bashful. “Tell me about what you were looking for.”

“I saw temples being built,” Sooyoung said, awe in her voice. “The humans had slaves do that work, slaves made from other humans,” she frowned, “but they made great stone constructs. Ones that’re still all there.” Her eyes lit up. “They’re in the places where there’s a great deal more heat and few forests,” she said. “But we could get there through the water?”

Just through the enthusiasm, Chuu could feel how far off it was. She saw a faint glow around it. They’d go there. Eventually. “We’ll go,” Chuu replied. 

Sooyoung took her hand, as though it were a simple thing to do. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” It only took one look at Sooyoung’s face to know how much she’d love that journey. And if it was possible, Chuu’d never quell the hope for that. Not even if it would help her. 

A long pause followed then. 

Chuu glanced up then, only to meet Sooyoung’ eyes. 

“Thank you for being okay with that,” the other elf said. 

Chuu smiled. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“It’s not that,” Sooyoung squeezed her hand, “it’s just that sometimes I feel like—“ She stopped then. 

“Like?”

She bit her lip. “I,” she stammered, “what do you want to do? What's a place you've always wanted to go to?"

This was coming out of nowhere. Chuu’s mind was empty with those questions. 

“You never talk about what you want.” Sooyoung leaned forward. “Did you even want to go to the colder south?” 

She laughed slightly. “It always became worthwhile,” she replied. “I usually didn’t understand until we got there.” But after she knew the story, after she’d seen Sooyoung's smile as she told it, then she’d known why. 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” 

“I like the past,” Chuu said. “I just never know where to look. You do.” She looked up at her. “So once you or Chaewon knew where you wanted to go, that’s where I wanted to go too.” 

“And what about the rest?” Sooyoung’s brow furrowed. “You just want to do what we always do in the forest?” 

“You mean live?” Chuu raised a brow. “Our life’s filled with magic and all that comes with it.” She smiled. “And on top of it, we get to have everything else we already do."

She sighed. “You make me sound ungrateful.” She shifted closer to her. 

“You aim higher than I do,” Chuu replied. “My gaze is forward and—hopefully—around me.” She tried not to dwell on how close Sooyoung still wanted to be. Even though the dynamic between them had been strained every now and then, be it through arguments or moments when Sooyoung had caught her in a lie. 

“That’s not all you do,” Sooyoung said. “You make everything brighter. And I know you mean every word you use to do that.” Her grip on Chuu’s hand tightened. “And I asked you what you want because, well, I know I’m not doing the same for you.”

She frowned. “What’s brought this on?”

“A feeling,” the other said quietly. “And I know I should’ve noticed this sooner.” 

“Known what? You don’t have to do anything for me,” Chuu tried for a smile, “you’re already doing too much.” 

Sooyoung’s expression didn’t soften. “You help all of us by being sure we’ll be alright. You help me when you encourage me, and tell me that the dumb things I did were also for a reason.” A small chuckle. “But who’s saying those things to you? Who’s making time to hear what your plans are? To know where you next want to go?”

Chuu felt a small tug in her chest. She felt anxious. “I hope you’re not trying to tell me I’m lonely.” If Sooyoung was going to tell her she needed a proper confidant, she wasn’t sure how she’d react. Not to mention that was her and Chaewon's job. 

Her eyes widen. “No!” She sighed. “That sounded so wrong, didn’t it?” She rested her head in her hands. “I wanted to say that I have to be doing all that. And that you have to tell me what’s in that head of yours.” She peeked up at her. 

Her face warmed again. This time Chuu didn’t avert her eyes. “Very little, usually.”

Sooyoung gave her a look. “I mean it, Jiwoo.” She lifted her head again. “You’re always focused on the things you can do and will do, but you never tell me until you’ve done it.” She squinted at her. “Even when you’re setting me up, I'm barely ready for it.” 

Now she looked away, hoping to find some sort of refuge in the bustle of their people. “You work best spontaneously.” 

Sooyoung poked her side. “I work with a plan really well too.”

Chuu laughed. “But even better when you don’t have one.” 

She raised a brow. “Is that even a compliment?”

“Of course,” Chuu nodded, “how many times has an impulsive decision helped you more than one you deliberated over?”

Sooyoung said nothing. 

Chuu gently pat the top of her head. “I mean it in the best way I could. I trust those decisions.” Sometimes, the unpredictability of it was remarkably refreshing. It caught her off guard, throwing certain pieces into oblivion and bringing new ones. It was one of the few times Chuu liked to pay attention to the future. She liked to see how Sooyoung’s decisions changed it, how Sooyoung almost always managed to step off her path. 

“Not always,” she muttered. 

“What do you mean?” Chuu gave her a look. “When did I not?”

“Oh,” Sooyoung searched the sky, “when I wanted to court that human girl in the north, when I wanted to teach Chaewon how to hunt, when I wanted to be courted by the human boy here…” She looked at her. “Should I go on?” 

It wasn't hard to see that Sooyoung was avoiding one particular decision. One where they'd both trusted the judgments of their elders, as well as each other's. They'd all been so wrong. 

“No need,” Chuu laughed, “but I never blocked you from ‘courting’ them, only the part where you make yourself the love of their life.” 

She rolled her eyes. “I would’ve made their worlds brighter.” 

“And left a longer shadow.” Immortals always suffered if they fell for a mortal. Vampires occasionally turned their human lovers, but immortality was difficult to reach for the rest. Chuu knew of some elves who'd fallen deeply for mortals, only to have their hearts twisted when those mortals died. 

Sooyoung sighed. “I know.” She looked up at her through her lashes. “Am I that bad?”

Chuu shook her head. “You only heard one thing I said. And the rest you jumped to by yourself.” Even saying that, she couldn’t help but wonder if Sooyoung did doubt how the way she acted. Many times, it was driven by impulse, which was itself not a bad thing. It just had poor consequences. 

“You didn’t deny it.” 

“I’m denying it now,” Chuu replied. “There’s a balance to be found. I’ll just be the weight on the other end until—” she faltered.“For the next time you decide you want to draw out another human.” 

Sooyoung didn’t notice. She only leaned her head on Chuu’s shoulder. “No humans. After seeing a few of the rest falling into that slump, I don’t want to put myself through that.”

“Heartbreak,” Chuu corrected. “Not a weird slump, even if that might’ve followed.”

“From something so brief?” Sooyoung asked. “It wasn’t like Sunmi—” She sighed, her shoulders drooping at the thought of the vampire. “Is it because I caused it with them?”

This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to be involved in. But to avoid it would make it worse. “I don’t think so,” she half-lied. “It might be more that when it ends, you’re more disappointed and instead of feeling trapped when it ends.”  

A surprised laugh came then. “You sound like an expert.” 

An even worse portion of the conversation. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Sooyoung’s head shot up. “You loved someone?” Her eyes narrowed. “And they hurt you?”

Much much worse. “They didn’t hurt me,” Chuu tried to placate her, “it just happened.” She tried to relax, hoping it would be enough. “But that was a while ago.”

“You never told me.” There was something in Sooyoung’s voice. Disappointment that Chuu wouldn’t have told her? 

“It was a fleeting thing,” she told her. “Nothing that important.”

Sooyoung nodded and went back to leaning on Chuu’s shoulder. “But if you ever pointed them out to me, I could teach them a little lesson.”

“No need,” Chuu chuckled, “they wouldn’t even know what you were attacking them for.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence. Chuu was still surprised at how close their words had gotten to her secrets. She was relieved at how quickly Sooyoung could move on with something. She was also unsettled by how easy it was for her to lie. 

No. It had become easier. She couldn’t forget that.  

______

Chuu had gotten a fair amount of stares when she’d gotten in, even more when she’d sat at a table alone. None had come to join her. Perhaps they thought her a madwoman. It was better that way. 

The moon had given her a path to follow, a faint one laced with grey. She didn’t know why that would be important. Either the moon was actually helping her or it’d taken pity on her. It would be the first she’d seen of the moon showing anything like that. 

Chuu had sat there. She’d not touched her drink, but listened to the conversation around her. 

The attack on the nobleman had reached this tavern too, but in this story he’d been tortured. The ‘wraith’ had attacked him solely for the reason that he was a corrupt man in power. 

He’d had it coming to him, was the general sentiment. 

That only increased the questions Chuu had. If this man was truly so hated that his comeuppance was no surprise, then was the purpose behind Hyejoo being here righteous? Had it been right to send her? 

And would there be others? What few stories had had merit to them had spoken of things Chuu was convinced could never have been Hyejoo. Madness through fear, bodies mutilated, or homes corrupted by darkness—she knew that Hyejoo wasn’t capable of it. If she’d stepped away from killing a man, that was proof enough for it. 

There was a sharp intake of breath at neighbouring tables. Chuu watched as the shadow of her drink on the table grew sharper. A grey and white path appeared in front of her. She looked up. 

The air changed when she saw her. The future became a distant thought and only the present was what mattered. Hyejoo was here. In front of her. At the door. 

She’d grown thinner. Her cheeks and eyes had a hollow edge to them. She was still beautiful, but hauntingly so. Her eyes were darker than they had been, not even reflecting the firelight of candles scatted throughout the small building. 

Those eyes were wide with alarm. Then they narrowed. The surprise in them was replaced by hatred.

Hyejoo turned away, the door opening with a smack against the wall. Then she was gone. The path Chuu was on faded. 

Chuu followed. The sudden movement made her dizzy, but she didn’t stop. She needed to speak to her. She needed to know how she was. Other questions came to mind, but she pushed them down. 

They reached the farming grounds quickly. Hyejoo showed no signs of slowing. Her form became darker in the night, despite the moon casting long shadows tonight. 

“Stop,” Chuu got out. She ran faster. 

Hyejoo didn’t respond. She only sped up. She’d been strong before, but not fast. 

Fleetingly, Chuu wondered whether or not it was because she’d had experience running from threats. She pushed those thoughts down. 

The dark haired girl made for the trees. She was only a shadow under the moonlight. Her hair didn’t whip around as she ran, nor did the cloak she wore. She just glided across the ground. 

“Wait!” Chuu tried to push her legs to get her there faster. She let moonlight seep into her muscles to soften the ache developing in them. 

And then a tall shadow rose up in front of her. Chuu stumbled, before slipping past it. The air around it was freezing. Chuu felt fear within it. 

The next one came, each larger than the next. The distance between her and Hyejoo grew with each one. Chuu felt a mix of fear and anger each time she dodged one. 

The shadow disappeared into the trees. Chuu entered the forest some seconds later. She heard the footfalls, but saw nothing save for the dark outlines of trees. Deeper into the forest, she saw only darkness. 

She gritted her teeth and drew on the light. The path Hyejoo had left was as dark as the rest of the forests. The grey and white had vanished. Concentrating on it hurt and her eyes strained to make out its outline. 

She’d lost her. Hyejoo had run from her. And her eyes when she’d seen her. Chuu’s own burned at the memory. 

She sighed and turned away from the darkness. Her path back to the town had already been illuminated. It felt like a taunt. The moon had known that Hyejoo wouldn’t have stopped for her. It’d known she’d fail. 

______

Jiwoo still hadn’t come back. It was nearing the night of the next day. Where had she gone? 

Yves knew she was fine, but only in the way that she knew Heejin and Haseul were fine. They were out patrolling. She didn’t know if they were happy, running from something, or sleeping. 

Had Jiwoo just gone to another locale for drinks? It wasn’t like her to even want to drink for fun. She barely liked the taste of the better wines. How could she suddenly want to have soju?

And then there had been that look in her eyes, one that Yves had immediately wanted to erase. It was haunted. Was it because of Hyejoo? Or something else? Yves hadn’t known that something could affect Jiwoo to that degree. It bothered her that she was surprised. She usually knew if something was unsettling her. Jiwoo always knew if something was wrong with her and usually came to talk to to her about it. 

And the peach-eyed elf had confided in her about her guilt over what had happened with Hyejoo. They hadn’t tried to rationalise what they’d done—or what they hadn’t done. They’d just withheld their tears as they’d held Chaewon, reassuring her that Hyejoo would be alright, that they’d try to find her again. And when they weren’t around Chaewon, Yves had been there to catch Jiwoo. The guilt had torn her apart in the first years. Jiwoo had stomached it with a signature smile and bounce to her step, but she hadn’t ever slept. They could manage without it, using the moonlight to supplement that, but at some point, even the light couldn’t restore someone completely. 

That point had come during a hunt. Jiwoo was the one who’d needed to land the blow. She’d collapsed after summoning her spear. The spirit hadn’t been the issue. Chaewon and Yves had managed to bring it down with ease. All that she’d been able to think about was Jiwoo’s limp form. Before then, she’d only ever seen strength wrapped in kindness. She hadn’t realised how much Jiwoo had been struggling. Jiwoo had been hiding her, and Yves hadn't been able to notice it. 

Was this another moment where Yves couldn’t see? She was watching, but perhaps that was the issue. She wasn’t good enough to spot those changes. 

Except for yesterday. She’d seen it then. But only because Jiwoo had thought she’d be alone. She’d decided to keep her thoughts to herself. 

Yves needed to convince her otherwise. She didn’t want Jiwoo’s energy to leave her as it did. With the spirits getting more dangerous, Jiwoo put herself at risk by letting the thoughts overcome her. Yves also couldn’t let her drown in them. It wasn’t how Jiwoo worked. And if she was turning to going off on her own, finding ways to occupy her time that she otherwise wouldn’t have ever turned to, then Yves needed to be there to pull her out. 

Yves stood, knowing that her movements surprised others. “I need water,” she lied. 

“Little late, eh?” Teveril chuckled.

She nodded. “Maybe.”

"Want me to come with you?" He looked hopeful. 

Yves nearly felt bad for saying no. He was actually kind, even if there was sometimes arrogance. Yves wasn't the most humble person either. Jiwoo and Chaewon had always balanced that out. Hyejoo had too. Once. 

She just shook her head, before walking off to the woods. She tried to find Jiwoo. 

She wasn’t good at sifting through light. That was where Jiwoo excelled. She always knew where to go, her sudden purpose unexpected, but always correct. 

Yves felt incompetent in comparison. Wasn’t she supposed to have grasped this by now? Affinities could be had to different elements of their magic, but those could be overcome. If she wanted to, she could learn to glean from the future as seers could. She'd learned to do that with the past, after repeatedly dreaming of ancient structures and mortal battles. She'd never wanted to devote the years to learning it. Something about knowing the future scared her. Those she’d seen born with the sight had always seemed more troubled than insightful. She never asked them about what they saw for that reason. She also didn’t want to know. Better to act freely than with a watchful eye on every single action.

Her future could've easily been spent with Teveril and the rest tonight. She could've been going to sleep. She'd decided to look for Jiwoo. She’d leave it at that. Some would say she spent too long in the past, but there was so much more to know there. 

And she hoped to hone her sight there further. Maybe she'd learn something about Hyejoo and her darkness. Or she’d find something about what they could try next regarding the spirits. She rarely saw spirits in the past, but perhaps she could pinpoint a moment when they changed. When the darkness had strengthened. Or when the light itself had changed. Seeing the past of immortals was more difficult. She didn't know why. 

Yves closed her eyes, looking past how the light shone around her, marking either spirits or the other elves. She looked for the threads of light most familiar to her, the ones that shone the brightest to her. 

And that was when she found a distant glow. She didn’t know what about it she was seeing, but she knew Jiwoo was coming back. A small pressure started to build in her chest. 

Yves started to walk faster. If she saw her soon and far away enough from the rest, they could start talking properly. Jiwoo could admit that something was troubling her to Yves. Usually. 

She saw the pale glow first. Then she heard slow steps, but they still had a spring to them. She was tired, but in decent spirits. 

There was a small falter. She’d only seen Yves now. That meant she’d been lost in her thoughts. 

“You can have today off as well,” Yves said. “Myarrar brought down a fair amount today and Yeojin made her best dish yet out of one.”

“I’ll definitely eat,” Jiwoo replied. “But I’ve had my days off.” She bounded over to her, a small smile on her face. “Miss me?” 

“Yes.” She nearly took her hand, but thought against it. Jiwoo sometimes got startled by it. “What did you find?” 

The smile disappeared. “I saw her.”

Yves’ heart lurched. 

“Really?” 

The corner of Jiwoo’s lip twitched. “She saw me and ran.” She looked away. “I followed her, but she,” her brow furrowed, “put shadows in my path.” 

She felt cold then. She looked at Jiwoo closer to see if there was any strange light to her, or a shadow she hadn’t noticed. 

“I’m alright,” Jiwoo said hastily. 

“No.” Yves only had to look in her eyes for that. It hadn’t hurt to see her, let alone chase after her. It had hurt that Hyejoo had run. 

The other girl didn’t respond. She bit her lip and looked away. Would she tell her about how disappointed she was? Or try to keep that a secret? Suddenly, pressing her for answers didn’t seem like the right thing to do. The look in Jiwoo’s eyes was fragile. 

“They way she looked at me,” Jiwoo murmured. She blinked, but no tears fell. “It was only for a moment. She’d been scared. And then furious.” Her mouth opened, before closing again. “Sooyoung, she–she,” she blinked again, shaking her head, “she hates me.” 

Yves pulled Jiwoo into a hug. She didn’t have to ask this time. Jiwoo couldn’t hide how much this hurt. And the truth of it wrapped itself around Yves’ heart as well. “She hates us,” she said. “Everyone who turned away.”

“But we were the ones who should’ve stood with her.” The words were shaky, but still said with such certainty. 

The hold around her heart tightened. It hurt. “I know,” Yves said. “But we didn’t.” They weren’t the words that would help, but she didn’t know if there were words that could erase that look in Jiwoo’s eyes or the pain Yves now felt. 

Only a change would help that. A change that would let black eyes look at them with love instead of hatred and anger. And that was impossible. 

Then Jiwoo pulled away. She wiped at her eyes. “I’ll go tell,” she faltered. She looked to the ground. “Yerim. I’ll see how she’s doing and tell her about earlier.” 

“Don’t you want to eat first?” Yves didn’t want her to go so soon. She hadn’t shut her out this time, but was she going to now?

She shook her head. “Not hungry.” 

Two words. That was all it took. Yves’s heart sank. She’d lost her for the day. Just like she had before. Had she gone looking for Jiwoo then, would she have found her after she'd gone after Hyejoo? Could Yves have started to shave off the pain Jiwoo was feeling now?

Yves forced herself to try again. “Can I come with you?” she asked. “I can wait outside if she doesn’t want me there.” 

Jiwoo just smiled. It was the one she used to comfort others. The one she’d use to tell Yves to leave. “I’m pretty sure you’re too hungry for that. I heard your stomach growling earlier.” Her peach-coloured eyes brightened ever so slightly. “So get to dinner and I’ll join a bit later.” She patted Yves arm. It was supposed to be a kind gesture. 

Then she walked off through the trees, her steps easy. The ache in Yves' chest had grown stronger. 

It felt a bit like a stab. Jiwoo would excuse herself with kind words and a warm smile, but they were still excuses. She didn’t want Yves to be around her for long, if at all. And she still didn’t know why. Whatever it was, Jiwoo hadn’t felt the need to tell her.  Was it because she thought she’d complicate things more than they already were? Or because the truth would hurt her? 

______

The sadness was working. Almost too well. Choerry felt as if her entire body had doubled in weight. Moving took more effort than it had when she’d first gotten hurt. 

But it was working. She needed to focus on that and just bear the feelings going through her now. 

She forced herself to her feet. That involved a combination of getting the earth to push herself up and getting a staff of it to lean on. 

She didn’t dare summon any light. She wasn’t even sure if she’d be able to. Choerry counted herself lucky for still having magic without the light. She couldn’t imagine how other Astra felt after getting attacked by a bright spirit. 

Choerry’s bit of exercise involved growing her dirt hut as she walked. She almost smiled thinking about how it looked from the outside, but the muscles to smile were also heavy. She really didn’t like how the sadness was affecting her, but at least the uncomfortable warmth was gone. 

Her legs were stiff from lying around. Her other one hurt with most movements, but she needed to move. The darkness had gone, now she just had the light. And her injuries were healed enough that she could move around. 

She wondered how Hyunjin was doing. She wanted to see her, but she knew Hyunjin needed all the time she could get in the moonlight. 

At the very least, she knew she was okay. 

And Yeojin was talking to her now, as well as already healed from the injuries she’d gotten. Another good thing to add to the list. 

Choerry knew that Yeojin had been put off by the way she always acted. She knew that a lot of people were overwhelmed by her. The ones closest to her were the ones who could put up with that. 

Jinsoul and Jungeun were the exceptions to that, having seen her both shy and homesick. Hyejoo and Hyunjin had come next, with Hyunjin’s fascination for her nature magic being the ice-breaker. Choerry hadn’t expected Hyejoo to put up with her like others had, but she’d done it. And with her had come Gowon, who’d immediately been more open than her dark-haired counterpart. That openness had been buried somewhere now. 

Choerry had also learned early on that Chuu had the potential to be just as lively. That side had come out during better times, as well as when life was completely separate from Astran issues. 

She hadn’t seen Jiwoo’s carefree side in years. At least not for long. 

She wondered if Hyejoo had found people to make her laugh as hard as they’d used to. She hoped she had, but a big part of her doubted that. She hated how everything had fallen apart. She wanted Hyejoo had her family again. She wanted Jiwoo to burst into giggles at the smallest of things. She wanted to slip potions into different cooking pots with Hyejoo and Hyunjin. She wanted Gowon to actually crack a smile again. 

Choerry kicked at the wall of her hut. Her bad leg started to burn a moment later, even though she'd kicked with the other leg. She winced and took a deep breath. Anger made the light stronger, just as it could strengthen the darkness. How one emotion could apply to both light and darkness, she didn’t understand. Somehow, it made perfect sense to that Dahyun girl. 

She took her mind away from the past. There was a lot she wanted and much of that were things she’d never get. She’d been trying to make peace with that for years. She hadn’t managed it yet. 

Then she heard someone coming closer. Peach weaved through their light. Chuu. She was early. Choerry knew that Heejin had planned to come, then Jinsoul. She thought Chuu would’ve stayed clear of crossing paths with Heejin. 

When Choerry let the dirt fall, she spotted light surges in the distance. She could see them without her head burning. At least she had that. At least she was healing. 

A very tired looking Chuu appeared. Some of the tension in her face faded when she saw her. It’d been a bad day. 

Choerry smiled and made the strawberry bush grow taller in front of her. 

Chuu chuckled and plucked one off. “Thanks.” She took a small bite. 

“Are they asking questions?” For someone so experienced with avoiding the truth, Chuu hated lying. It took a toll on her whenever she lied to Gowon or Yves. She probably wasn’t even aware of how much it hurt her. She’d grown numb to it. 

“Wanted to,” she replied. “But there’s been more news.” Her mouth formed a line. “Bright spirits were turned dark, but none of those had attacked. Dark spirits were stopping their attacks, even around that house." Then she sighed. "She killed two elder vampires. Weren’t part of a coven, at least not anymore, but—” Her brow furrowed. “Doyeon was the one who sent her.”

Choerry felt a knot in her stomach. Hyejoo had been hired to kill again? And she’d gone through with it? Hadn’t she wanted to escape that? 

“How’s Go—Chaewon?” Hadn’t Hyejoo’s decisions been the reason why the bond had flared the way it had? “Did she notice it hurting?”

Chuu’s brow shot up. She hadn’t expected Choerry to ask—or care. “The ache got a bit more, but not much more.” 

“Of course,” Choerry sat down on the ground, “even the moon doesn’t care about vampires.”

“Or it was for a different reason.” Chuu sat down across from her. “They terrorised and killed a lot of humans.”

“That human she was sent to kill might’ve also deserved it,” she threw back. “So what’s the difference?”

“I don’t know.” She looked defeated at the thought. “Sorry.” 

Choerry felt guilty. Chuu had already done so much for her. She’d risked exposing a secret she’d kept for ages just so she could help Choerry learn how to understand the sight better. She’d taken on Choerry’s secret as well. 

Eline had helped Chuu adjust, but she was pretty sure that a lot of what Chuu had taught Choerry had been learned through experience. The elder seer had offered to help Choerry as well, but she hadn’t thought that would’ve been the right way to go about this. Plus, if anyone would see her going to an elder, it would’ve raised questions. 

“You don’t have to know everything,” Choerry said. “We’re not like fairies. It’s okay if we leave some questions unanswered.”

Chuu just shrugged. 

Choerry wanted to ask more about what’d happened to make her so sombre, but Chuu could be more closed off than Jungeun. Sometimes even more than Choerry. 

But that was exactly why she needed to press her. Jinsoul had once learned how to read Jungeun and vice versa, as Jinsoul had been difficult to approach when she'd first come to the Astra. Years later, Jungeun and Jinsoul had learned to press Choerry when they needed too. That was usually to get her to admit when she was hurt or being troubled by something else. If Yves and Gowon would do the same with Chuu, maybe they’d figure it out. She wasn’t sure. Chuu was a different sort of closed off. Hers was a secret she’d kept almost her entire life. 

She looked up, ready to ask. 

“I saw her,” Chuu muttered. 

Choerry didn’t have to ask who, but her heart sank. “When?” She hadn’t sensed anything. That might’ve been because she could barely stand the sight of light. 

“Patrol.” She closed her eyes. “I was in town, had just finished things up with a wolf. They’d needed chains. Then I’d gone for a drink and she’d come in.” Her voice had started to shake. “And ran the moment she saw me.”

Choerry wanted to ask more, but she knew Chuu wouldn’t want to relive that moment yet. She both understood why Chuu hadn’t been there for Hyejoo on that day and she didn’t. What she did know very well was how much Chuu regretted it. She knew how much it hurt her and she understood that seeing Hyejoo this time had just cut open that old wound. 

So she took her hand instead. Chuu jumped, but didn’t pull away. She hadn’t expected that. That meant her thoughts were just on Hyejoo and not the future. 

“If she leaves, it’ll be my fault,” she muttered. And I know how much you want her back in your life.” She opened her eyes. There were no tears, just frustration and pain. “I’m sorry, Yerim. I should’ve known she’d be close enough for that. And I,” her breath hitched, “I tried to follow her, but I shouldn’t have.”

Choerry knew that had been a mistake, but she couldn’t blame her. “It’s okay.” She squeezed her hand. “She’ll be staying in Korea for now. Maybe she’ll try and learn another language, but you know that’ll take her a few years.” Korean had taken a while. For Choerry too. Yves and Jungeun had taught most of them. 

“It’s no small landmass.”

“It gets smaller if Hyejoo stays on this path,” she replied. “We just seek out the witches in each city, village, and hut. Jungeun’s great at getting those answers. We could find her again.” But even then, Choerry wasn’t sure if they should. 

Unless she was in danger. Then they needed to find her.

The mention of Jungeun seemed to bring a little clarity back. For a moment, Choerry wondered if Chuu actually felt something else for her. Maybe, but Choerry also knew that the feelings Chuu had for Yves had definitely not faded. As far as she knew, Jungeun was being Jungeun and Chuu was trying to look somewhere other than Yves. It probably wasn’t helping things, but both thought it was. 

“Can you see her path?” Chuu asked. “For me it’s dark, but not like a terrible fate.” She sighed. “It’s the same with Hyunjin. It’s just uncertain.” 

“I can’t see either,” she admitted. “If I try to look, it hurts.” She’d had her sight directly after the attack, but then it’d slowly gotten lost. She didn’t know what to make of that. She loved having her head clear of paths and the rest of the future. That was a clarity she’d missed. 

At the same time, it meant she had no idea what was coming. She didn’t know if Yeojin would be going off on her own again. She didn’t know if Jungeun was about to make another dangerous decision. She didn’t even know if the moon wanted her to walk left or right. 

And now, she didn’t know if she was following the path set out for her, or if she was going against it like she usually tried to do. 

Chuu had been silent, but now she put a hand over Choerry’s. “It was just a head wound,” she said. “Something you’re still healing from.” The message was clear. You haven’t lost your sight.

“But if you could choose,” Choerry began, “wouldn’t you want it gone?”

“A lot of the time I do,” she replied. Then a small, but honest, smile appeared. “But what if you hadn’t seen the light leave Hyunjin in that forest? What if the seers hadn’t sense that there’d be Astra outside of this clan, but in a very different one?” She shrugged. “It brings a lot of good. And for me, my sight is like your magic over nature.”

Briefly, the thought of losing said magic crossed her mind. The mere mention was painful. “You’d feel lost.”

Chuu just nodded. The smile on her face looked sad. 

And Choerry knew why. The sight was a part of Chuu just as much as the earth felt like a part of Choerry. Trees could bend towards her when she was alone and desperately longing for company. Fruits could start to grow, or even ripen, when Choerry was hungry. And for Chuu, the paths she saw were as normal as dirt roads and stone paths were to mortals. She either followed them or ignored them. And when it came to others, she was always looking out for where their path led. Chuu tried her best to step in when she could, but a lot of the time, she was able to step away. Those decisions were completely natural to her, despite not many being able to share that insight. 

So as much as Chuu hated her magic, she’d had it all her life. She’d learned to live with it. She’d learned to use it for the good of all their futures. So even if she had the choice, she wouldn’t give it up. 

______

Gowon watched as Sooyoung sank to the ground. She looked lost. 

“Did you make this?” She peered at the pot of noodles. 

“If I said yes,” Gowon raised a brow at her, “would you still eat it?”

Sooyoung winked. “Might have to drink a tonic beforehand.”

She tossed a twig at her. “Unless it’s burnt, everything I make is delicious.”

“But only if it's not charred.” Even so, she took a decent sized serving. She ate a forkful, wincing at the heat. Then her brow rose. “It’s good.” She sounded too surprised. 

“Of course it is,” Gowon huffed, “I made it, so it’s delicious.” The pain in her chest was still there, but it'd subsided since Dahyun had brought those memories to the surface. Even if the memories themselves carried a different pain with them. 

“So you’ll be making dinner for the rest of the year?”

“I’ll burn it all.”

She raised a brow. “A year is nothing.”

“But it’s still long!” Gowon whined. 

Sooyoung laughed. “Okay fine, you’ll just have this month.”

She grumbled at that. In reality, she was just glad she’d gotten that look out of Sooyoung’s eyes. 

It would come back. She knew that. And if Jiwoo came over in a good moon, that lost look would be gone again. Sooyoung had always been a bit like a mirror to Jiwoo’s positivity. 

That worked the other way too. If Jiwoo was genuinely forcing a smile, then Sooyoung would move closer to her, almost as if she was trying to draw that negative energy out. 

And now, Sooyoung was starting to relax from whatever had happened tonight. She was gently teasing Gowon, either about her height or cooking prowess. Gowon retaliated with jibes about her recent dancing escapades during a patrol, or her age. 

Then Jiwoo came, looking exhausted. 

Gowon saw Sooyoung straighten, as if ready to go to her side or prepare a plate for her. 

Wordlessly, Jiwoo filled her own bowl and sat down on Gowon’s side, opposite Sooyoung. 

“Yerim’ll be able to come outside tomorrow,” she said. A weak smile appeared. It met her eyes this time. “It’s finally stopping to burn.” She glanced to the sky. 

They still hadn’t talked about how Jiwoo had known something had been wrong in the first place. It didn’t feel like the right time, so Gowon didn’t bring it up. 

Something tugged at her chest then. She ignored it. Even though the ache had gotten less, something about it had ben changing recently. Especially a few days ago, when there'd been an actual burst of pain. 

Jiwoo ate slowly, giving them the news from a recent patrol she’d had. It'd involved some vampires, a werewolf, and a witch who’d tapped into necromancy. 

All Gowon knew about that kind of magic was that the light around the users and targets was a sickly looking purple and red. It always made her want to vomit. 

Was that the reason for the bright spirits attacking? Their light also made her feel sick. If a spirit had once been the soul of a person, maybe necromancy was what corrupted them. 

Gowon had no idea. There weren’t enough necromancers for that. At least not in their area. They also didn’t need to deal with them much. 

“What was this one doing?” Sooyoung asked. 

Jiwoo grimaced. “One set was sent to raid a supply trail. Intercepted that. The other went around dismantling whatever houses they could and overrunning them. We got another fae involved with that one.” 

“Did you,” Gowon stopped herself. She didn’t want to finish that sentence. 

She shook her head. “He was desperate for food and wanted to make enough noise so that a coven would notice.” She sighed. “Doyeon took in him, talking about some coven that’ll excuse what he did.”

That wasn’t surprising. Doyeon was forgiving of a lot of things. She excused newborns who’d been thirst-crazed, even helping them find proper guidance and covens who’d welcome them no matter how often they’d lost control. And she almost never let a witch be killed for what they’d done. Even if they’d completely violated the natural order, Doyeon insisted they could be convinced to follow different schools of magic. 

“How old?” Sooyoung asked. 

“Very young,” Jiwoo replied, looking at her food. “Only twenty years.”

It was always weird to consider a mortal’s age. This witch had been born when Gowon and all the rest had looked exactly as they did now. He’d been an infant, a child, and was now only a young man. To him, his life had been long and he would still be living for an eternity—a brief life, but one filled with possibility and room for growth. 

Of course Doyeon would pardon someone like that and Jiwoo would go along with it. 

“And,” Jiwoo glanced at Sooyoung then, a silent question there, “there was something else. After I’d gotten finished with the witch.” 

Gowon caught Sooyoung nod. Whatever the news, they were going to deliver it gently. She didn’t need them to. 

“You saw her,” Gowon said. 

Jiwoo started, before resignation came over. She only nodded. 

The thought of Hyejoo strengthened the ache in her chest. She thought of black eyes filled with warmth. Whether they’d been like coal or obsidian, Gowon had always found her eyes beautiful. And they’d been expressive when her voice and face hadn’t been. She’d always been able to read her. Better than anyone else she knew.  

“How was she?” Gowon asked. “Healthy?”

“Tired,” Jiwoo murmured. “But she seemed alright.” Her shoulders dropped. “And she runs fast.”

A simple statement, but pain ran through those words. 

“But she didn’t lash out,” Jiwoo continued. “That’ll be evidence enough.” A dry laugh. “If she can see me and not use her magic against me, then the rest’ll know full well that she’s not a danger.”

Gowon wondered what Hyejoo would do if she saw her. She almost wished she’d lash out. Anything to get rid of whatever anger she’d have had building for the past years. At the very least, she’d be able to get her revenge. 

“You think she’ll stay?” Gowon asked. The pain of the bond hadn’t faded to a dull ache yet. That meant she was still close. At least compared to before. 

Gowon wasn’t sure to make of that knowledge anymore. Seeing Hyejoo had been both a hope and a fear of hers. And whenever she had hoped, she’d grown afraid of it. 

She wasn’t afraid of what Hyejoo would do. She’d let her do what she wanted. She deserved anything Hyejoo would throw at her. 

No, she was afraid of what it would mean. She dreaded the moment she’d watch rage and hatred flood those dark eyes. She was afraid of seeing the person she loved most hate her. She knew Hyejoo hated her, but seeing it would be something very different. A part of her knew she wasn’t strong enough to bear that. It would be the moment she finally broke. 

“I think she will,” Sooyoung said. “She’ll do what she can to avoid seeing us, but she’ll at least stay in Korea.”

Jiwoo was nodding along as she spoke. There was a soft smile on her face. 

Then she blinked and the warmth there was gone. She stood up. 

“Going already?” Sooyoung asked. The lost look was coming back. “They’ll have music soon. I thought you’d like that.” 

Jiwoo smiled, but shook her head. “I’m tired tonight.” Then she was gone. No mention of anything else, even though there was clearly a lot of pain in her heart. 

It’d taken them a while to even see Jiwoo’s more vulnerable side. They’d had to properly coax it out of her, sometimes with tight embraces, other times with long discussions further away from camp. 

And Jiwoo was still distant. She wasn’t always, not like before, but there was still a rift. 

Sooyoung was still looking in the direction she’d gone. There were tears in her eyes. 

Gowon was beside her in an instant. Even when things had gotten hard, Sooyoung had forced herself not to shed tears. And now she did. 

Now, she leaned into Gowon’s side. “What am I doing wrong?”

“What do you mean?” Sooyoung had gotten them through a lot in the past years. She’d always been there before as well. For all four of them. “You’re doing everything right.”

“She won’t even look at me,” Sooyoung muttered. “Is it because of what happened? Does she blame me for—”

“No,” Gowon cut her off. “She was the one who said it was all of us and she’s right.”

“Then what did I do?” 

She didn’t know what she could say to ease this sudden flow of doubt. 

“How do you know it’s what you did?”

“She lets you in, same with Jungeun and Choerry,” Sooyoung blinked twice, “and Dahyun can get her talking more than I can.” She sighed. “How can it not be me?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Gowon told her. “Jiwoo’s respect for you hasn’t changed.” She didn’t want to continue that sentence. Even if she could have, their relationship, or lack thereof, wasn’t her place. 

“Sure,” Sooyoung drawled, “she tries to avoid me any time we could be alone. If she’s clearly struggling, she won’t even talk to me.” Her expression crumpled. “She’s been like that a few times. Do you think that—” Her mouth shut. 

“What?” Gowon asked. The moment she heard the doubts, she could dispel them. She saw more than both combined. The two danced around each other, with Sooyoung being hesitant and Jiwoo being…well, that was something else entirely. 

“Am I losing her?” She looked up and what Gowon saw in her was heartbreaking. “She stays with us because she loves you. She also doesn’t think she fits in with the rest—she doesn’t even like most of them, except for Yerim and, well, Jungeun.” Her gaze fell. “Whatever it is she wants, or what she needs,” she broke off. Then she sank further into Gowon’s side. “It isn’t me.”

“Sooyoung,” Gowon said. “Look at me.”

It took a few seconds, but she did. How many times had Gowon worn an expression like that? How many times had Sooyoung comforted her, trying to restore her hope and usually succeeding in small ways? 

The difference now was that the person Sooyoung loved was still in this camp. And yet Sooyoung still thought she was losing her. Gowon had lost the person she loved. The space they’d held in her heart was now a place in constant pain. 

That just meant she could talk some sense into Sooyoung. 

She didn’t know if the two were bonded, but they kept coming back to each other as if they were. No one Sooyoung had fallen for had been able to compare. Sooyoung had confessed that before, but not to the right person. 

“She’s been by your side for years and she’s not going to leave it any time soon,” Gowon said, trying to keep her voice firm. “You’ve been in worse places than this. Once she thought you were an ass with no self worth when you were clinging to that other ass of a vampire for years.”

Sooyoung looked momentarily stunned, her mouth opening and closing several times. “Sunmi wasn’t an ass.” 

“Maybe not, but you idolised her and neither of you were great back then.” Gowon had actually liked that vampire. She hadn’t liked the person Sooyoung had become around said vampire. “But even then, Jiwoo didn’t cut you off when she could’ve.” In the beginning, it’d just been jealousy, which Jiwoo had learned to hide pretty well. After a while, it’d just turned into frustration, because Sooyoung hadn’t seen how much value she’d placed into her lover and how little she’d kept for herself. 

“You never told me that.” Sooyoung’s voice was quiet.