​

Chapter 16: Mists of War, Part 1

Sanctuary, two nights before the full moon

"Nights have gotten colder," Valera says from her position on the balcony, "But still, the moon is too beautiful tonight."

Yoona nods, her face stoic as she watches her master look off to the horizon. She does this every night, watches the dark gather and traces the stars as the light up the din. She maps the energies passing through the sky, follows the river of spirit dance across the tapestry of the hallowed night. Yoona often wonders how her master is able to reach that point of serenity. She Wonders how the great Druid entangles herself into the passing flow of time and energy.

​​

She leaves her queries for another time, there are more important matters to attend to.

"Master, I've received a letter from Lady Hani."

At the utterance of the fair knight's name, Valera turns to regard her pupil with a warm gaze.

"Oh, I have not heard from her in a while, how are things doing at Ironpoint?"

Yoona gives her master a stoic glance, "it's a letter of distress."

The change in Valeria's expression is immediate, warm smile contorting into one of blatant shock and confusion.

"Distress? Their kingdom is prosperous and their king is one of the most benevolent people I've ever known, what would warrant such distress, especially to me?"

"Master, she is no longer part of the Head of the Ironguard, she was sacked," Yoona says quietly, closing the distance and handing her he letter she received a few minutes before.

Valera grabs for it and reads through it with great distress etched on her face. After a few moments, she shuts her eyes, her left hand grasping for her temples.

"Assemble a team, you are to leave at dawn. There is something amiss."

Yoona stills, her eyes reluctant to gaze at her master, "Do you think it's--"

Before Yoona can finish her question Valera is already pacing towards the end the balcony.

"Maybe. We can't be too sure. But you must send help. Send word as soon as you get there."

Yoona nods before bolting out of the scene.

Valera looks at the moon, "Gods, help us."

Misty Isles, night of the full moon

The beach looks tranquil as twilight painted the sky. Somehow the tropical weather and balmy winds charmed Baekhyun to submission. A stark contrast to the cool, earthy strum of Everdale or the potent atmosphere around sanctuary. The misty isles smells of the sun, and tastes of salt tinged breeze.

Baekhyun has learned to love every bit of the island. And as he sits with Chanyeol watching the waves brush against their tired feet, Baekhyun feels the most relaxed he's been in a while. His calloused feet refreshed at each motion pooling against his calloused skin.

He doesn't know if it's because of the weather, the island, or something else entirely, but he keeps still, reaping each moment with fervor. Ignoring the sounds of the coming night, eyes trained at his feet.

"The afternoon tastes sweet," he says to Chanyeol, gaze trained on his feet.

"This is the most relaxed I've ever seen you," he replies with a soft chuckle.

"This is the most relaxed I've felt."

There's a soft rumbling and Baekhyun sees the familiar fog descend upon the island.

"Shame we never get to see the moon," he says listlessly, "It was majestic that night."

Chanyeol hums in response, the two settling into a comfortable silence. A momentary retreat from their burdensome existence.

Chanyeol has been helping Baekhyun control his newfound powers. It has been two days since their first session, and true to what Chanyeol has seen Baekhyun do time and time again, he learned with practiced, focused ease.

Admittedly, the first few attempts were borderline disastrous, but once Baekhyun got a hold of how to properly control his powers, everything was smooth sailing. What began as wild beams of energy dancing haphazardly across the clear blue sky, began to wane into tamer, more restrained flow of raw power.

Chanyeol thinks it’s to do with Baekhyun’s obsession over control and restraint. Since his powers revolved around raw energy, it made sense that his instinct to restrict made controlling it easier. The only fear he had with Baekhyun was that his restrictive nature and fear would hinder his progress moving forward.

But from what Chanyeol has seen, he knows Baekhyun will get the hang of it eventually. Valera always do say that light was a peculiar energy.

It doesn't relent, you can't stop it, you can only watch as it passes by. You don’t tame, you coax in the right direction.

"Starlight, you've done good these past few days," Chanyeol hums with a smile, "like I said you would."

Baekhyun snorts, but looks at him with a grateful smile, "You haven't called me that in a while, what brought it up?"

"I was reminded how blindingly, brilliant you are," Chanyeol whispers, the words lapping against Baekhyun's ears like the waves crashing against their feet.

"What do you mean reminded? I'm always this bright." Baekhyun chides with a giggle.

Chanyeol suddenly looks solemn as he brings his knee closer to his chest and rests his head on them as he looks at his companion.

"You've been dull for a while," he says softly, coming out more of drawl than a whisper, "like clouds were covering you as I searched the night sky. I almost forgot that you were the brightest star in the sky."

Chanyeol looks at Baekhyun’s hands. The smaller man had taken to covering them after training—draws too much attention he says. For someone with the brightest, most attention seeking power, Baekhyun loves to hide. But that's part of why it makes him the most brilliant--to be special is to be hidden.

"You flatter me too much."

"You don't flatter yourself enough."

Baekhyun shakes his head, "you're blind"

"I may be, but I'm not a fool," Chanyeol says with a smile.

"But seriously, your progress has been undeniable. It's admirable."

Baekhyun shrugs at the compliment. He's gotten used to Chanyeol shamelessly praising him, it's been nearly over a month since they've first met, and still Chanyeol finds a way to find something extraordinary in the least extraordinary person—it's charming if not disturbing—and by now Baekhyun has learned to accept that Chanyeol is just too damn courteous for his own good.

But he can't deny how Chanyeol has made easing into this new life easier. Though everyone has been welcoming, being with Chanyeol was just easy. The two gravitated to each other like wayward magnets in vagrant sea.

He looks to the sky and sees the dull blanket that protects them. The dense cloud of virtuous energy casting a cool, albeit blank, shadow over the lonely island.

"It's funny, how almost dying changes your perspective of things."

Chanyeol looks at Baekhyun with wide eyes. They haven't talked about it in depth—the idea of death. If he's being honest with himself, he'd rather stay away from the topic altogether. He never broached Baekhyun about it, not so quickly after the incident, but the light user surprised everyone when he just went into training like nothing ever happened.

He even seemed more excitable more than anything.

It strikes Chanyeol as odd. Baekhyun had so much trauma from the incident at the orphanage that he imagined that the attack would leave him catatonic.

He was sorely mistaken.

Baekhyun eyes his tense shoulders as  he talks, "I know you've been trying to avoid bringing it up, but I want to tell you what's going through my mind," the smaller man pauses as Chanyeol audibly gulps, "don't worry, it's not as austere as your making it to be."

He chuckles.

"At first I was scared. At that moment when she raised her weapon I envisioned the end," he says leaning into himself, "If I'm being honest, I think I was resigned to dying just from sheer exhaustion, but something stopped me."

Baekhyun sheds his gloves and shows Chanyeol the brilliant gleam of his hands, and the galaxies spiraling within them.

"I remembered you, then Kai. I remembered Jongdae, Kyungsoo, Valera, and Yoona. I remembered how much you fought to save us, to save me. I remembered the way you told me to believe in myself. I remembered how all of you trusted me. I didn't want to disappoint."

Baekhyun breathes, standing up as he stretches his tired limbs. The breeze cascades through Baekhyun's loose shirt as he raises his arms, his hands glowing in effervescence.

"I realized, in that one moment, that I'm living in so much fear that I haven't actually lived," he says wistfully, "seeing my life so close to ending puts things into perspective."

He pauses, hands coming down to rest at his sides. Chanyeol has stood up by now, gaze still fixated at Baekhyun, whose eyes are glazed with a mist of awe.

"I used to be afraid of dying. But now, I don't think I am," he says after a few moments of silence, "I just don't want to go down without a fight. I want my life to mean something. What better way than by saving the world?"

Chanyeol smiles. It's the first time he's seen Baekhyun so confident and sure of himself. From the way his head lifted at each word, to the way his fists stayed unclenched throughout their conversation.

"I felt like I needed to tell someone. Even just one person."

"Well, I'm glad it was me."

Baekhyun looks at home with the brightest smile he's seen on him: a satisfied grin.

"Me too."

Chanyeol wraps his arm around Baekhyun's shoulder and brings him close. They stay like that in the silence of the calm night; basking in the momentary of peace before they return to their tumultuous life.

If only they could.

There's a gentle rumble that courses through the night sky as the foggy shield begins to tremble. It shakes as if an invisible fist is knocking at the surface, as a titan groan wretches through the night, and the soft, dull blanket unravels to reveal a starless sky.

They disengage, both sensing something amiss. They grab for their boots and start peering over the horizon, where the remnants of the fog begin to subside in the distance.

Baekhyun feels the unsettling shake of his palms, as the galaxies of energy swirl in agitation. It was more violent now, the shiver. Turbulent energies bouncing off his limbs like a force that wanted out.

He can't see what's beyond the horizon, but doesn't have to guess.

"Chanyeol, it's them."

He nods before they start sprinting to the village.

---

Jongdae takes his eyes off the moon to others. Lay and Junmyeon had successfully stabilized Minho, and were cleaning off the blood stains that tainted the soldier’s clothes.

He slowly approaches the two, his head bowed slightly as he takes in the state of Minho.

The proud warrior was a decrepit image of his normal self. The scowl that tainted his face most of their visit was gone, replaced by a peaceful expression. The tension in his face was gone, it made him look nice. Jongdae observes the gaping hole where the fatal wound used to be. It's dried up, a layer of angry, red crust covering the gash.

Junmyeon was in tears and Lay was breathing heavily.

The night had only begun.

"I’ll be looking for Kyungsoo."

Lay lifts his head. Sweat is streaking down his face, his face schooled in obvious discomfort.

"I'll stay with Minho."

Jongdae  turns his gaze to Junmyeon, "You have to go back to the village. You have to fight with your people."

Junmyeon looks like he's about to protests but stops himself. He gulps, visibly torn amongst staying with his friend, defending his village, and finding the root of all their problems.

"Junmyeon, you’re not alone anymore,” Jongdae says, putting a hand on his shoulder, “let us carry some of your burdens.”

Junmyeon is tight lipped, obviously reluctant to relinquish control, but relents nonetheless. He nods silently.

Junmyeon gently caresses his best friends face, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. He then moves to Lay, his gaze laced with worry.

"Be safe," he says as he kisses the minstrel genially on the lips.

“You too. Protect your people, I’ll protect your dear friend.”

Junmyeon, despite the situation, flashes the other a smile, “Thank you.”

Lay goes into a more wholesome kiss, a deep gnashing of lips, taking in the very taste of his lover. Once they separate, he smiles.

“Go, your people need you.”

Junmyeon nods, standing up and dusting himself. Jongdae approaches and gives him an encouraging hug.

"Tell Chanyeol and Baekhyun we're alright and tell them to stay there. If you find Kai, tell him to find me. We’ll keep your island safe, trust us."

Junmyeon utters quick thanks before he races towards the village. Jongdae gives Lay a nod before he's racing through the forest as well.

It's worse than Kyuhyun expected. He was by the towers, watching as their adversaries slowly slithered their way up to the village.

They've prepare the defenses to the best of their abilities. It wasn't much, but it was a great improvement from what they began with. The watchtowers, which were barely used, were decked with archers and reinforced with spikes. The perimeter was reinforced with palisades, and various traps were setup across the path leading to the villages perch.

As soon as the mist went down and Chanyeol and Baekhyun raced into the village, Kyuhyun raised the alarm. Kangin and Jessi arranged the footmen, while he led the civilians to the town hall.

Now his soldiers were staring at the impending battle before them and there was no sign of Yixing, Junmyeon and the rest of the Druid contingent.

"Baekhyun! Chanyeol! Where are the rest of your forces!?"

The two shared a look of distress, "We don't know. We haven't seen them since this morning."

Kyuhyun shakes his head, "And where is your brother, and Minho!?"

Jessi shoots him a glare, "Minho is watching over the stone," she pauses, "I don't know where my brother is."

"Well someone has to find out, unless all of you just want to lay down and die!" He bellows, causing those in the vicinity to cringe in absolute fear.

Kyuhyun was always the cool one, Kangin usually served this type of anger and frustration, and he was the one to quell it. But the situation has become so dire, that even Kangin has subsided to silence.

He takes a deep breath.

"We can't risk any more capable men now," Jessi chimes, "If they're not here, they'll have good reason. Right now, we have to concentrate on protecting the village."

Kyuhyun shakes his head. She's right; if they come, they come, but for now they fight.

There are almost a hundred of them, like an unending steam of scaled death rising from the black ocean.

The archers are ready, their bows stretched as they waited for the first signs of slithering from the forest.

The original plan was for Jongdae to man the towers, lay and Minho to stay with the civilians, while he, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, and Kangin stood at the vanguard, and Jessi, Junmyeon and Baekhyun command forces at the inner portions of the city. Noticing the absence of almost half of their commanders, Kyuhyun was forced to improvise.

Right now, Chanyeol and Kangin stood at the forefront of the battalion, the two having the most experience, while Jessi and Baekhyun lead the internal contingents. He was a competent enough archer, so he stood to command at the towers. Everything was in disarray, and morale was low.

His men were used to this type of fight, but the islanders looked visibly shaken without their leader and their top general to lead them into battle. As of right now, he didn’t know if the village would make it through the night.

He steels himself. He looks to the darkness ahead of them, there he sees the first signs of battle ignite. From the farthest corner, he sees wet scales reflecting sinisterly against the bright yellow hues of their torches. And violent scratching against the air is evidence of the first arrow being launched. It lands on bark of a tree with a dull thunk. However, the next arrows the find purchase sinking into scaled skin with a grotesque sloshing sound.

There’s a roar of excitement as the first beast falls. Footmen raising their arms in encouragement. But Kyuhyun knows better.

The first kill may seem encouraging, but the fleeting moment of victory fades as soon as it happens. And as soon as the body hits the floor, another comes into vision, and another, and another, and another. Soon the first wave of gargling, serpetntine creatures make their appearance. The sharp scales that line their back lead to the crest of fins that lining their heads. Their faces resemble that of a python, with two fangs jutting out at the front. Their bodies fan out in width going up like the body of a king cobra, their muscular arms carrying spears and axes made of sharpened coral or thick sea shells. He sees some of them with blood streaks at the sides of their bodies, others that look like they have fatal wounds bleeding at the seams. The traps have done their job, it seems it even killed some of them, given the state of some of the stragglers.

He gives the signal, bows are raised, then soon a rain of arrows descend upon the first wave of naga. It kills some, fatally wounds others, and scathes the rest. But as soon as the first wave clears, a retaliation comes in a rain of arrows of their own.

“Take cover!” Kyuhuyn screams to the troops.

He takes to hiding under one of their wooden shields as the first shower of arrows fall upon them. He sees the arrows land a few inches from him. Crude arrows made from smashed sea shells, tied to a flimsy length of wood. He hears the dull thump of bodies meeting their end, and a few screams of pain as arrows pierce skin and limbs. He ducks out of the cover and takes a glance at their enemy.

A second wave was now advancing, and they were too close to fire another arrows, so he heads to the very end of his tower.

“Open the gates! Vanguard, charge!”

The creaking of the gate makes way for the shouts of the first battalions charge. He sees Chanyeol and Kangin leading the troops, weapons brandished with wild violence as they clash with their enemy.

“For the Misty Isles!”

Normally, you'd think that Jongdae trudging into a forest without a lead is an if mistake. For any normal person, this would be true. Fortunately, Jongdae isn't an ordinary person.

It begins with the sounds, the scents and the sights. When Jongdae rushed through the thicket, it wasn't in reckless abandon.

You see, he's been stuck in the library for two days reading up on the island, and what came with that was a working knowledge of its topography.

The small island resembled a crescent, the land tilting inwards towards the bay. The other side of the island was made up of jaggy limestone cliffs that wilted the treacherous roar of the Verdant Sea. That was also where the moon was positioned.

Jongdae didn't have much at to go on, but he did have a clear mind. He goes through various processes in his mind: eliminating unlikely locations, clearing up motive of his prey, and contextualizing the locals.

Hunting is knowing your terrain and understanding the motions of your prey. It's following a river upstream until you find the waterfall. It's finding the heart and plunging it with cold steel.

Truly Jongdae moved without knowing any information. But He had the hunters spirit imprinted into every aspect of his being. He'll find you sooner rather than later

He heads for the cliffs, his mind wishing that his instincts not fail him tonight.

Lay sits across Minho by the cave floor, eyes drowsy and breathing heavy after dragging the man’s limp into the mouth of the cave. His muscles sting against the cold floor, hands shivering as he tried to fix his position. He heaves a sigh as he tries to stay awake. Trying to save Minho from the brink of death was the most difficult task he had to accomplish, using almost all his power to take him from the brink.

“Even unconscious, you give me a headache.”

Lay rests his head, his hair cushioning his scalp from the harsh chill of the smooth wall. He peers around the dark opening and he finds silence. He rests his eyes.

It’s colder tonight, colder that any night in the Misty Isles. It creeps up his skin like a snake, slithering ominously through his veins, touching him with its cold, flaxen skin.

“You gave me a headache the moment you set foot in this island.”

The voice is hoarse and tired, but the deep baritone echoing through the hollow cavern is clearly his ward for the night. Lay doesn’t open his eyes, body too tired to seek the sound. He trusts that his companion has not moved, not with the amount of bruising and fatigue plaguing his body. He’s surprised Minho’s even awake at this point. Quite clearly, the embers of his hatred burn brighter in the turgid cold.

“You’re supposed to be knocked out, how are you still talking?”

There’s gravely chuckle, that sounds more like rocks clattering against metal, “Junmyeon never told you how resilient I am.”

Lay smirks, “He has, on occasion,” he pauses, trying to peek open an eye to no avail, “but I tend to ignore information that doesn’t concern me.”

“You always have the perfect comeback for everything, don’t you?”

“I do try.”

Lay hears the soft rustling of leather scratching against the floor. He doesn’t bat an eye.

“I often wonder,” Minho grunts, “How you managed to sway Junmyeon, what you did you whisper into his ear. What spell you cast on him?”

Lay shakes his head out of instinct, “I only promised him the world.”

“What if you can’t give him the world?” Minho says forlornly, “What if you can’t give him what he wants? What if you’re too little for him to feel satisfied, what then?”

Lay opens his eyes, slowly. The words that have echoed through their private chamber of cold and darkness resonated within lay’s chest. The words rung through him like a bolt of lightning, igniting dormant nerves, pushing his body through white heat.

“Minho, I may have promised the world, but that’s not what Junmyeon wants,” he says with deep regret.

This is Minho, his apparent rival for Junmyeon’s heart. The one who’s eyes never graced him a smile. Whose scowl rivalled any orc, troll or fire giant he’s ever encountered, and whose rage has caused many a misfortune upon him. It’s easy to forget that he’s human as well. It’s easy to forget that he loves Junmyeon deeply as well.

It’s easy to forget that he’s afraid as well.

“Minho, Junmyeon’s had his foot on a boat half his life, he just needed someone to tell him to set sail,” lay murmurs into the darkness, “You only ever needed to say that you’d make the mistake together, and you would have had him.”

“He only ever needed someone to believe in him.”

Minho scoffs, “That’s easy for you to say.” The usual bite is gone, replaced by resignation, and just maybe snippet of regret, “I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always had the choice, you were just too afraid to take it.”

Lay hears sudden movement, and he knows it’s Minho attempting to retaliate, to hurt him. But his body does not cooperate, he’s left immobile and fuming with anger and resentment. Taking the muffled rumbling as Minho cursing him to high heavens, the minstrel attempts to explain.

“I fled, you know. After being saved from a fire that killed off my family, I was saved.” He says, “You know what I said to myself? ‘I’m just going to be just like them.’”

There is silence from the other side, so he continues.

“I grew up to become a high-ranking officer. I made them so proud. I had everything,” he stills for a second, remembering the events that led to his exodus, “But at the same time nothing at all.”

“Minho, have you ever wondered what giants look like?” Lay asks suddenly, his voice going light as he closes his eyes.

Minho, although confused by the sudden question, answers reluctantly, “No, never had the time.”

Lay nods, “Have you ever wanted to know why the sun rises and falls? Have you ever wanted to climb a snowy mountain?” he continues prodding, not giving Minho any time to react.

“Have you ever wanted to see the winding, treacherous Krag highways? Have you ever wanted to see the festival of lights at the end of Nighttip?” Lay takes a breath, “Have you ever wanted to see what’s beyond the sea?”

“Because Junmyeon has,” lay says opening his eyes and looking over at the slumped figure that has gone silent, “Every day of his life.”

He lurches forward, voice rising as he makes sure that Minho hears every word that comes out of his mouth. Even through the soreness that’s plaguing his body, Minho needs to hear.

“And every day he thinks he doesn’t deserve to reach out. Every day he continues to rot in this sun kissed prison. Every day he wants to sail away. Will you let him set sail , Minho? Will you let him begin a life he always wanted?” Minho doesn’t move. He lies facing away from lay in silence.

“Because even if meant I wouldn’t get to see him anymore, I’d choose his dream over my selfishness.”

Lay leans back, and closes his eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over him, succumbing into a deep slumber.

He doesn’t know where or why he wakes up, but he feels something gnawing at him. Something telling him to stand. The air buzzes with a reified energy, a frenetic, austere rhythm that’s forcing him to move, to leave.

His eyes dart towards the other side of the cave where Minho lies motionless. He tries to get up with much difficulty. Although he feels more rested, his limbs still feel sore and stiff. But he manages to stand and prod Minho awake.

“We have to leave; I feel something coming.”

Being a trained soldier, Minho could wake up on command. He jolts forward with a sloth like urgency as he wills his body to move. His victory is small and miniscule, but in his state, he can only ask for so much.

Lay assists him into a standing position, his limbs may be weak, but he’s still mobile enough for them both, though just barely.

They trudge quietly forward, making sure to make as little noise as possible. But stop as soon as they move.

In the distance, they hear the indistinct sounds of movement. It wasn’t clear, but it felt like large creatures moving in their direction. Lay pastes their bodies to the wall, hoping the darkness be enough of a cover to hide them from the impending meeting.

Then he hears it, the distinct sound of a slither echoing slickly off the walls.

Minho in his state manages a smirk, “Who would have thought that I would die with the one who stole my first love from me.”

Lay rolls his eyes and drops Minho on the ground, “You’re sorely mistaken my…friend?” he tries, but Minho is too tired to even produce a reply, “I plan to die extravagantly. Dying in a dark, cold cave next to you is not part of my plan.”

Lay, with all the strength he can will stands up and readies his hands on his daggers. He can’t even try to manipulate the plants. He hast battle with his wits and guile, and he feels absolutely alive.

“Just sit pretty for me because, you’re coming out of this cave alive, honey. I promised Junmyeon.”

A/N

First off, I’m back after months. I’m sorry it took so long. I was in a slump for a while—a combination of feeling intimidated about the chapter and life getting in the way. But I’m back, and I feel much better about writing.

Some things to note:

Kaisoo are absent from the chapter but you’ll find out what happen to them in the next part.

Things are happening at Sanctuary that’s alluding to the next portion of their adventure.

I guess most of you already know who’s the snake is, but for those who don’t, you’ll find out the next chapter.

Lay laying down the truth. Chanbaek being cute. The battle reaching its beginning.

How do you guys find the chapter? It’s been a while since I’ve last written, so if there are any mistakes I apologize. I’m still looking for a beta for anyone who’s interested. Anyway, I’m hoping to get the next chapter up soon, so don’t worry about waiting for another month.

That’s it for now, please comment. Comments give me life.