Chanyeol gathers his belongings and places them into his small knapsack, moving across his room with only the silence an elf can achieve. He looks around the room one last time. The room that he had spent a few hundred years in. Such a short time for an elf, but he knows it’s time to move on, that he can’t possibly stay here any longer. There is nothing left for him, there hadn’t been for many decades. Softly his lowers himself to the floor, brushing off the dirt that has gathered across the wooden surface. His fingers feel along the floorboards, until one gives a slight ominous creek. Placing his index finger and thumb lightly against the wood, he hums out softly until he feels it give way. The light breeze of a spell being broken along with dusk particles fill the area. Once removed, he leans the beam against his bed, pushing his long fiery hair out of his eyes long enough to retrieve the small box laying bellow. He unravels the rough paper exterior of the box and opens it. Inside, nestled on water lily petals rests a stone, the color of sunlight shining through morning dew. It just barely has that glimpse of yellow, mostly clear through and through. It hasn’t been the color of pure sunlight and joy for so long, continuing to wane until all that was left was a water down image, making Chanyeol wonder if he only imagined its brightness in the first place.

Chanyeol moves his own hand upward, running his fingers along the leather band that hugs the bicep of his left arm, where his own stone rests, blazing fierce. Chanyeol’s own stone looks as if it will burn right through the band on his arm, a dark burnt orange, that when looked at directly seems to distort, as if molten lava is burning constantly. Chanyeol only hesitates briefly before careful removing the almost clear stone from the box. He feels a small ghost of a zing run up his arm, barley felt. Chanyeol remembers clearly when a little over 49 years ago, the power of this stone had burnt his hand so badly he had been handicapped for months. His elfin powers had done nothing to lessen the pain or heal the wound like they would have usually. Chanyeol traces a symbol into his left hand with his right middle finger. The symbol resembles that of the sun, outlined with the eight moons of time. With this he allows himself to mourn once again for the events that happened 49 years ago.

___

Chanyeol startles from his act of fiddling with his guitar as his front door is forced open, creaking loudly as it swings back on its hinges. A windblown Baekhyun enters, long blonde hair flowing haphazardly around his face, gasping for breath, and eyes blown to their full golden glory. He gapes at Chanyeol, magik pouring off of his being, barely masking his fear. Immediately Chanyeol rises to his feet, moving towards Baekhyun in one swift motion. Snatching one of his many bows from above his front door, he gracefully push Baekhyun behind him as he stands in the opening to his modest home, bow pulled taut and angled to perfection. He whistles a high keen sound and a transparent force field shudders into sight before vanishing, newly activated. The smell of must and earth fill the air as the force field settles into existence.  However, he sees no threats across the field of wheat grass and regretfully lowers his bow as Baekhyun pulls him inside of the house, whispers of “no time, no time” dancing across his lips.

Baekhyun maneuvers them further into the house until they stand in Chanyeol’s small kitchen. Chanyeol watches Baekhyun move about, gathering up various herbs, moving from place to place as if he had lived in the house forever. Chanyeol breathes in deeply, eyebrows furrowed as he once again smells the musk of newly worked magik pouring from Baekhyun. Baekhyun had been crafting, and from the smell of it had been working on something big. Once Baekhyun had gathered everything he needed, he was once again pushing Chanyeol out until they had made it to his bedroom, where Baekhyun motioned to the far left wall, bare save for a vast painting of the eight moons of time. Chanyeol wordlessly goes over to the wall, laying aside his bow, placing both palms flat to the wall. He then leans his head down, closing his eyes as he whispers to the wall, feeling the give and take of The Way. Leaning back again, the wall opens to reveal a small room which Baekhyun hurriedly pushes Chanyeol into.

Once the wall rightens itself they stand in complete darkness. The only noises being Baekhyun’s raging breath and the sound of his hummingbird heart. Chanyeol feels fire dance across his fingertips as he lights a lamp. Then he fixes Baekhyun with a worried stare. Only Baekhyun has already begun to mix the various herbs and plants together with a large mortal that Baekhyun snagged from Chanyeol’s kitchen, using the pestle to grind the ingredients into submission. The hidden room can only be called that literally, having more resemblance to a cave than a room. The four walls surrounding Chanyeol and Baekhyun being made up of complete soil. Regardless of the small room being located in Chanyeol’s house, it wasn’t actually his. The small room belongs to Baekhyun who works his best potions in a room more connected to the Earth. Baekhyun had chosen Chanyeol’s house over his own because Chanyeol’s lay rather close to a ley line, from which The Way is the strongest, leaving more room for magik to be manipulated.

Chanyeol’s not sure what Baekhyun is making, his expertise lying more in the magik of charms and spell work, while Baekhyun’s are more associated with the magik of potions and brews. Instead Chanyeol takes this time to really look at Baekhyun. The smaller elf looks as if a tornado had him into it and deposited him on Chanyeol’s doorstep. The usual intricate braid that holds Baekhyun’s hair back from his face is in shambles, hair infused instead with leaves and other debris. Chanyeol knows that Baekhyun would never leave his house looking like this. And for some reason, this is the first indicator that sends Chanyeol’s heart beating into overdrive in mild fear. His carefully balanced control over The Way that surges through his being begins to tip, causing magik to rise to course through his body, making fire dance over his fingers. Baekhyun pays Chanyeol no mind, instead moving about the room frantically, hurriedly throwing together the potion. Once finished Baekhyun places in into the hearth on the far wall, not even having to ask Chanyeol for help when the other uses his nervous energy to light it a second later.

The two watch the potion begin to simmer for a moment before Chanyeol turns to Baekhyun only to be shocked into silence from what he seems. He thought Baekhyun had been watching the potion just as he had but instead Baekhyun had set his golden eyes on Chanyeol. Big fat golden tears pouring from the others eyes and the words get caught in Chanyeol’s throat. Just when he feels he can speak again, Baekhyun beats him to it and croaks out two words.

“Touch me.” The sound of Baekhyun voice, usually tinged with a slightly musical lit, has turned dry and rough, cracking allover.

“Baekhyun.” And Baekhyun breaks at the sound of his name, sobbing, grasping at the front of Chanyeol’s shirt in desperation.

“Please Chanyeol. Touch me.” And so Chanyeol does. Hesitantly he reaches one callused hand up to wipe at the tears that have begun to drip down onto Chanyeol’s shirt, painting it gold.

“Kiss me.” And so Chanyeol does. He claims his mouth and can taste the sunlight on Baekhyun’s lips, left over from the tears. Chanyeol never wants to be rid of the taste that is Baekhyun, swallowing his small sobs and clutching the small boy to his chest, feeling the desperation from Baekhyun seep into his very being.

They continue on like this, Chanyeol nipping along the expanse of Baekhyun’s neck and collar bones, Baekhyun’s hands skimming over Chanyeol’s abs, almost in a frantic fever. Chanyeol almost doesn’t hear Baekhyun’s next request, too lost in his touch, the feel of Baekhyun’s slender fingers weaving through the tangles of Chanyeol’s hair.

“Mark me.”

When Chanyeol finally resurfaces from the black hole that is the small elfin boy, his eyes widen in shock. He is sure he has heard wrong. Sure that Baekhyun has misspoken. To be marked meant to be claimed. And to be claimed meant your life was tied to that persons, in life… and in death. It use to be a common occurrence. However, when an epidemic had raged through about a thousand years ago, the twelve elven clans of the world had almost become extinct. So now it was only a sacred ritual, left to those of the highest level of courts and the royalty. It was not done by the lowly warrior and magik castors, like Baekhyun and Chanyeol.

Chanyeol stares at Baekhyun in disbelief. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea of being bound to Baekhyun, it was just that he would not wish harm on the other. And with his line of work he could not guarantee the safety of the other. Baekhyun knew this and felt the same or at least Chanyeol thought he did. The next words tumbling out of Baekhyun’s mouth cause his heart to plummet and true fear to pulse through his veins.

“Claim me.” Baekhyun whispers, clutching at Chanyoel, trying to bring him closer but Chanyeol refrains, holding Baekhyun at a distances, searching the others face frantically. All he sees his fear.

“What is it Baekhyun? Tell me.” However a loud banging noise to the left of them has them both jumping up. Chanyeol’s bow is in his hand instantly, Baekhyun following behind him a mere half second later. However, it was just the cauldron, having burst in the hearth, filling the room with a thick sickly sweet smell. Baekhyun throws his bow aside and runs to the mess, frantically grasping at the remains of the brew.

“No. No.. NO.” Baekhyun sobs renewed: louder, deeper, heavier. Chanyeol stands frozen in place. He’s never seen one of Baekhyun’s potions fail before. Baekhyun is the best of the best, at least in their clan, even creating a potion for the crown prince once. Of course, Baekhyun’s reaction to the potions failure is even more of a shock. Before Chanyoel can move to comfort the other, a brief pressure is felt behind his eyes, almost as if the beginnings of a headache is rearing it head.

“Someone’s trying to break down my force field. Baekhyun what is this?” Chanyeol hisses, focusing harder on keeping the force field from crumbling. Baekhyun startles and looks up to Chanyeol, beyond wrecked and begins to chant “out of time, out of time.”

Baekhyun flings himself at Chanyoel with a renewed vigor, desperately forcing Chanyeol’s lips to part and working his tongue into his mouth. However, Chanyoel fights him off.

“Be still.” He barks, hearth shooting up at his angry outburst as he loses control of his magik. Baekhyun just shakes his head, clutching at Chanyeol.

“You don’t understand.” He sobs out, practically hyperventilating. Chanyoel touches the side of his neck in a soothing gesture. Baekhyun calms a little.

“Then explain it to me.” Baekhyun lets out a deep breath and fixes him with a pleading stare, soul laid bare to Chanyoel through is eyes.

“Do you trust me?” He ask Chanyeol in a small whisper, and Chanyeol doesn’t even hesitate.

“You know I do.”

“Then mark me.” Chanyeol looks into his eyes a few seconds longer and then lowers his hands from the other. He nods his head minutely. Baekhyun would not ask for something so dangerous if he did not need it.

“But not here, let’s go to my bedroom.” Chanyoel doesn’t want to preform something so sacred in the dank place. However, Baekhyun frantically shakes his head, grasping at Chanyeol’s hands.

“They’ll find us faster.” Only then does Chanyoel remember the presence pushing against his force fields and closes his eyes, focusing his attention of the force field. Once he does the pain in his head intensifies eightfold, sharp stabs running down his spine. Quickly he throws what magik he can muster at the force field and cuts off the spell, no longer able to rely on his Way to support the spell, only praying that it last for a while longer. He can’t afford to be focused on something else when performing the binding ritual. It could cause a complication to occur.

Chanyeol grabs Baekhyun and forces him onto the ground, sitting cross legged in front of him. Carefully he removes his shirt and motions for Baekhyun to do the same. Once both are bare chested, He takes a deep breath to collect himself. Baekhyun watches with curious eyes. Not many common people remember the binding ritual but Chanyeol’s family is very scholarly, passing down their knowledge from generation to generation. Because of his family’s hunger for knowledge they have also become the most gifted in The Way of all other spell crafters, rivaling Baekhyun’s own powers, but in a different branch of The Way. As far as Chanyeol knows, his family is the only common folk who still hold the secret of the binding ritual.

Carefully Chanyeol, moves his right hand to finger the small leather band wrapped around his arm, deftly removing the smoldering burnt orange stone from it resting place. Baekhyun’s eyes widen as he watches Chanyeol hold the stone securely between his two hands, pressing down and rubbing his hands together, murmuring words of lore. When Chanyeol opens his eyes again he opens his hands to reveal that the stone had been ground up into some sort of thick liquid substance, still the same fiery orange color. Baekhyun gasps out in horror and gapes at Chanyeol like he just sentenced himself to death.

“Don’t worry. Once the spell is over, your stone will return to its original place. It is only needed for the marking.” Chanyeol whispers soothingly, feeling anything but. He had only read and studied this spell in theory. One wrong move and that could be the end. These stones were tied to their very life force and if destroyed could mean death.

Baekhyun hesitantly follows, grinding his own florescent yellow stone between his palms. Chanyeol murmurs the incantation for Baekhyun, knowing Baekhyun would butcher the language of old. Once done, Baekhyun hands too are covered in a bright yellow substance. Chanyeol moves towards him, lifting his right hand to Baekhyun face, instructing him to close his eyes. Baekhyun does and Chanyeol, marvels at his beauty for a moment, even in his current disheveled state. The intense Earth smelling pouring off of Baekhyun causes Chanyeol to spring into action. The musk almost too much for him, causing him to gag briefly. Something was definitely wrong here. The smell rolling off of Baekhyun was that of a newly cast spell. However, when it lingers like this it is also the sign of magik gone bad, rotten, turned into poison.

Chanyoel gathers himself and continues, running his thumb down the middle of Baekhyun’s forehead to the tip of his nose, then down the middle of Baekhyun bottom lip. He moves onto Baekhyun’s chest painting in the symbol that represent the branch of the way that Chanyeol’s family represents, kind of like their family crest, which is placed in a smaller style behind Chanyeol’s right ear. A birthmark all the elves in Chanyeol’s family bear.

Chanyeol leans back and allows Baekhyun to survey himself, nodding that he had memorized the patterned in which Chanyeol painted him. Chanyeol closes his eyes and allows Baekhyun to paint his face, replicated what Chanyeol did exactly save for the design painted on his chest. Baekhyun paints his own families crest on Chanyeol’s chest, feeling his smaller mark behind his right ear thrum as if in acknowledgment.

Just as Chanyeol moves to take Baekhyun into his arms, a pounding on the far wall vibrates through the room, walls crumbling a bit under the force trying to break into the small room. Baekhyun frantically looks at Chanyeol.

“Hurry.” He says, reaching for Chanyeol, but just as quickly snatches his hands back as if burnt. Black liquid appears to be slowly crawling up Baekhyun’s arm, turning his skin into gray marble, green veins sickly peering through the papery skin. Baekhyun breaks completely, keening softly as he rocks himself back and forth, face pressed into his decaying hands. Chanyeol tries to reach out for him, but Baekhyun scoots away from him in fear. Again Chanyeol tries to reach him, but Baekhyun stands frantically, just as the door is broken down. Ten royal guards burst into the room. Chanyeol tries to get to Baekhyun but he flees towards the guards and out of his reach. Two guards rush as Chanyeol just as he reaches for his bow and they force him to the ground, using their royal powers to momentarily strip him of his control over The Way, causing his magic to be cut off.

“Baekhyun!” He watches in anguished confusion as Baekhyun surrenders to the guards, allowing them to cast a spell on him that binds his hands together. Another guard brings a black cloak over and drapes it over Baekhyun, hiding him completely from view. But not before he can look at Chanyeol one last time. Chanyeol watches as his golden tears turn gray and sooty, leaving dirty trails down his face. Understanding seizes Chanyeol and he struggles against the guards, terror causing him to lash out violently. He breaks free from the guards and rushes at Baekhyun, trying to pull the black cloak off of him, not wanting to believe the reality of the situation. Another guard forces him to the ground, where all Chanyeol can see are Baekhyun’s sandals, his small feet becoming darker by the second. He reaches out for them but Baekhyun is being dragged off backwards, loud broken sobs following him the whole way out.

“Baekhyun!” Chanyeol yells after him, continuing to struggle against the guards. Grasping at anything that he can get his hands on, he comes into contact with a small round smooth object and pain courses through his being. Blindly his presses the stone behind him, hearing the guard holding him down hiss in pain. She then presses her fingers firmly into the pressure points on Chanyeol’s neck and his world becomes hazy. He can barely see the black mass that is Baekhyun as he is dragged almost completely from view. Over the scuff Chanyeol recognizes Baekhyun’s voice drift towards him, defeated and broken.

“I love you, Chanyeol.” Then Chanyeol’s world goes black, hand still clasped firmly around the bright burning yellow stone in his hand.

___

The tale goes that a pack of Northern fay (elves gone bad) had ambushed Baekhyun and his small group, who had went past the Tangled River to collect herbs. This was a dangerous job and rarely done. However, the herbs were desperately needed and so a party had been assembled. Originally Baekhyun was not supposed to go, being one of the most skilled and valuable potion crafters. However, Baekhyun was not one to take being babied well. Even though he was one of the best, if not the best, he was humble and volunteered for the venture.

Once there the Northern fay attacked and cast an ancient dark spell on the group, known only as the Black Curse. Those who were infected by it were referred to as the Black Widows because it turned that person’s touch into pure poison, killing those who came in physical contact with them. The only way an elf could be relieved of the curse was if they touched the person that was their soul mate. While this sounds slightly romantic, it is not. Never before has a person infected with the black curse found their soul mate. Many believe that it is just a story made up by a loved one of the person suffering from the Black Curse to spare them of a completely hopeless fate. Many also believe that the epidemic that killed off so many of the elves was actually a cover up for a Black Widow who went crazy from despair, touching whoever they came into contact with. Not only killing those who they touched but also the person that that elf was bound to. Chanyeol isn’t sure how much of these rumors are true but has spent the last 49 years searching for answers, only to come up empty handed and frustrated, save for a few things.

Apparently this spell took a few hours to completely take its hold on the victims. Chanyeol can only guess that Baekhyun had been trying to outsmart the spell. Legend had it that if you performed the binding ritual before the spell took hold, it rendered the spell invalid. However many were too afraid to become bound to someone infected with curse, fearing it would turn them into a black widow as well or kill them once the spell took hold. And now, no one even knows the binding spell to perform it even if they wanted to risk it.

Chanyeol found this out because his cousin Jongin’s mate Kyungsoo had also been affected by the spell. When authorizes had went to drag Kyungsoo away, the two were already long gone. To the guards, the place looked as if the two had hurriedly packed their bags and run off into the night. However, to Chanyeols eyes, he knew that the black and green marks on the bed were the remains of a binding spell. Chanyeol could only hope that Kyungsoo and Jongin had succeeded where he and Baekhyun had failed. All of this too, was just a theory he had. For all he knew, Jongin and Kyungsoo had run off into the night to die together. He had not heard a word from them since that night so many years ago.

“Chanyeol, are you ready to go?” Kris’s voice pulls Chanyeol out of his own thoughts and Chanyeol nods without looking behind himself at Kris. He pockets the small pale yellow stone and murmurs a short incantation before turning around to leave the room forever. Once outside he turns his face into the sunlight, allowing it to warm him to his core before he sets off across the meadow for the last time.

a/n: This is unbetaed so it's probably full of typos. But as it is, it's 5AM and I have class at 11AM. So i'll save the profreading for later today. I hope you all like this. Let me know what you think!