Alis aquilae

On an eagle's wings.

“You won’t win this time!” Junhong shouted, dodging an enlarged ball of flame and watching it dissolve in a puff of smoke on the tree behind him. He called upon the forces in his body, purely hoping that this particular trick would come out right. As he had wished, that familiar ball of light that illuminated his youth grew in his hands. It glowed brighter than any sun in the galaxy and became bigger than his head. Before hurling the ball at his opponent, he once again avoided a hurtling mass of flames. Of course, Junhong’s attack missed, but that’s what he had been expecting. The light was merely a distraction. Instead of following up with a closer range attack, he drew from the magic surging within his veins and cast a spell that would surely trap Yongguk under the cold, heavy forces of ice.

But he dodged, throwing a swarm of reanimated cicadas at him as he went, effectively confusing Junhong. Where the hell did he get so many cicadas? They were large terrible, chattering bugs that flew around his head as he tried to run from them. A snap of Yongguk’s fingers was all it took, and each and every one of them dropped to the ground.

“I don’t want you to go easy on me!” He shouted back at him, brushing a dead bug from his shoulder.

Yongguk laughed, sending a wave of water from the marsh nearby. Junhong managed to escape it. Barely.

Suddenly, there was a large, thundering noise. Daehyun had his hands to the ground and beads of sweat on his brow. As he stood up, that familiar, forlorn smile took it’s place on his lips. “Lunch is ready, you two!” He yelled to them, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. Yongguk and Junhong shared a look before they burst out laughing and raced each other to the large door of the temple.

Such was life.

———

Daehyun continued to remain solitary. His smiles were fleeting and at times ingenuine. There were, occasionally, points where he’d join for a lively dinner or observe a practice session, yet there was something off about him. He never offered to contribute knowledge or tell his own strange, foreign jokes. When he was lost deep in the innermost confines of his mind a somber expression took hold on his features. Sometimes he wouldn’t speak when addressed, other times he would look up, surprised, before that grimace disguised as a grin grew on his lips. Yongguk had said he needed closure or perhaps even some sort of epiphany. At least something that would make him realize that sitting in that deep state of depression wasn’t doing him any good.

However, by itself, the problem seemed to present a solution.

It was late into the night. Junhong had himself propped up against Daisy who was fast asleep. He was poring over one of the many spellbooks in Yongguk’s personal library. Night time was study time. At first, it was the soft throes of Daehyun’s accent that got his attention. He seemed to be talking to Yongguk. Rather, begging Yongguk.

“My friend, I beseech you, please do this. It’s not something that I’ll regret.” He seemed desperate, and at the brink of tears. That was unusual. Daehyun didn’t seem to be a crier.

“These things are permanent, Daehyun, and powerful. Don’t ask and then just expect to me say yes. I don’t give out tattoos to just anyone.” Yongguk’s tone was hushed, and obviously riddled with the tired aggravation of the night.

“Just a simple spell. That’s all I ask.” Their voices were getting closer. They were about to pass the room. Frantically, Junhong scrambled to put the old book over his face and lay his head back onto Daisy to make it appear as if he was sleeping. Fool proof.

The two continued talking even as they passed the room. Junhong continued to cleverly eavesdrop.

“What sort of spell?” Yongguk was at his limit. He was beginning to give in. The man wasn’t stubborn by any stretch. He definitely had a soft spot.

Daehyun sighed. Was he embarrassed? Junhong could picture his cheeks flushing as he looked down at his feet. “I would like… I would like a protection spell. Just one to ward off the loneliness.”

There was a long pause. What was going on between those two? Was Yongguk chewing on his lip as he debated whether or not to give in to Daehyun’s simple demands? Was Daehyun, still red from humiliation twisting the hem of his shirt in his fingers?

Yongguk broke the silence with a “I suppose,” before Daehyun could be heard rejoicing.

“Thank you, my friend, thank you! You really are the best.”

“Just don’t tell Junhong,” there was a laugh. “I don’t want him thinking I’m giving out tattoos.”

Junhong blinked, suddenly alight with anger. Why couldn’t he have a tattoo? He was certainly old enough for one. Whatever. He crossed his arms, still eye to eye with blurry text.

It’s not like he wanted one anyway.

———

The day came when Yongguk tattooed Daehyun. Junhong, acting as if he knew not a thing, feigned being surprised when he walked into Yongguk’s workroom and all of his tools were out and he was disinfecting the inside of Daehyun’s wrist.

“Hello, friend.” Daehyun greeted him with a smile and a wave with his free hand.

“Keep eating,” Yongguk warned, gesturing to the food that was in his lap. “I don’t want you to pass out while I do this. It’s going to be small, but there’s still that chance.”

He nodded and returned to the crackers that he had been eating. “Why don’t you stay and watch, Junhong.” His mouth was full, yet the genuine grin that graced his lips distracted from his lack of manners. Junhong wasn’t sure what sort of background that Daehyun was from, so maybe talking with his mouth full was completely normal. But who really knew?

Junhong took a seat on one of the three metal chairs lined up against the wall. He’d never been in Yongguk’s workroom for an extended period of time, so this gave him the opportunity to really look around.

The floors were a white tile which gave a stark contrast to the cold stone that was littered throughout the rest of the temple. Actually, the room itself was completely modern in comparison to the ancient relic that the temple was. Steel tables were placed around the room, many having an assortment of tools on them. There was one pulled up right next to Daehyun’s soft, comfortable leather chair that had an abundance of colours in little cups. Parts that he couldn’t even begin to name were also on the various trays. They all seemed shining, beautiful and clean. The room as a whole was brightly lit by fluorescent lights that bounced off of the white walls and illuminated the metal that was scattered about the room. Yongguk worked in his own chair; it was tall and had black leather cushions similar to the one that Daehyun sat in.

Finally, Yongguk started up the tattoo machine which effectively gave Junhong a start. It buzzed and filled the entire room with a quiet hum of anticipation. He placed his fingers on the grip and made the first on his client’s wrist. Daehyun almost jumped, but swallowed the urge and instead in a gasp of air. It seemed as if he hadn’t expected that. As Yongguk continued in the careful, gentle way that a practiced hand knows, Junhong watched in awe. The elder was so skilled and amazing. He could do so much yet was still shrouded in a breath of mystery.

Soon enough the lining was done, and Yongguk began the shading. It was a simple tattoo, from what Junhong could see. A word he couldn’t recognise in that language he’d been studying. There were bellflowers on either side of the word, and they looked as if they were springing to life right on his skin. When they were shaded, it was in a light grey that faded into his skin. It gave the illusion that they were real. The actual word itself was just that same pale black used for the lining of it all. When Daehyun got up to check on it in the mirror on the far side of the room, Junhong asked what the word meant.

“It says ‘hold.’” He explained, beginning to clean off his tools. “It seems he doesn’t want to be alone anymore.”

Junhong took one last long look at Daehyun admiring himself in the mirror. There was that smile but it looked far less forlorn and much more enchanting. It looked as if he was finally, truly, happy.

———

Where do you want to go next?” The question hung in the air. It held no malice, no instigation, but instead was full of curiosity.

“Ireland,” was Junhong’s answer. It was something he didn’t even have to think about. All he could materialize in his mind were the letters that his parents received in the mail when he was young. They were all so exotic, so wondrous. Each and every one of these mystery letters were sent from an unknown cousin who had taken residence in Ireland.

Yongguk chuckled, throwing his head back as his adam’s apple bobbed with amusement. “Why Ireland?”

Junhong squinted. Wasn’t it obvious? “Well, because I’m Irish.”

This time, the elder broke out into a full on laugh. He was in complete hysterics when Daehyun wandered in, confused and quite worried because he hadn’t seen this happening at all. “Junhong, you’re not Irish.”

“Of course I am!” He threw his hands up in the air with a deep blush heating his cheeks. How could Yongguk just laugh at him like that?!

“You’re Asian, Junhong. Haven’t you looked in a mirror before?”

Crossing his arms and looking away, Junhong huffed. “Whatever. I’m going to Ireland and that’s the end of it.”

Just a quick note on the endpiece of this chapter! I absolutely hate it LOL It's like a super inside joke just with myself. I'm mixed Korean, and had no idea I was Korean or even Asian until my mom told me when I was in eighth grade. So this piece is just an homage to that because I thought I was just French for the longest time. I'm in contact with my grandma now, though, and I'm trying to be much more in touch with my culture! Just thought I'd let y'all know because this last part of this chapter is one of my biggest regrets in this story, but I'm trying to stay true to uploading it all just as it used to be, with no edits. Thank you for reading !