[ ❉ A Few Days Later - November 1st 2016 ]

   The imminent arrival of Winter brought along shorter days and cooler nights. November pushed in silently, and dusk fell upon the world of Pangaea, enshrouding it in darkness, and whipping up chills that made even the hardest of men shiver.

   Deep in the wooded highlands to the west of the Outskirts were two weary travellers, wrapped head to toe in an array of clothes in a haphazard attempt to keep out the cold. They climbed the narrow and steep path until they finally reached what they’d been searching for. On the peak of the formation was a single Mag Stone, surrounded by a magnificent crescent-shaped lake, shimmering with the night sky.

   Yixing pulled away his scarf, and a surprised gasp escaped his lips. This was the fifth of twelve Mag Stones on his list, but he never expected to see one in such an iridescent location. To his side, Jongin seemed less enthused at the sight, and more interest in finally being able to sit down again. Jongin pulled off his bag and rested against the Mag Stone, letting out a sigh of relief as the comforting magic healed his aching muscles.

   Dropping his bag at Jongin’s side, Yixing stretched out and walked along the edge of the lake. The moonlight mirrored brightly off its surface, inviting him to jump in, but that urge was quashed quickly by his fear of the cold. Just dipping his toes in was enough.

   He stopped on the east side of the lake, folding his arms as he looked out towards the capital. A network of lights connected the multiple towns outside the capital, but the demon king’s recent rampages meant that the towns dotted between Merehua and the capital were few and far between now. Yixing’s eyes scanned across the main road connecting the two cities until abruptly, his sight narrowed on an unusual view.

   “Jongin. Come take a look at this,” Yixing said.

   He could hear a disgruntled moan coming from his friend, but it was soon followed by footsteps as Jongin dragged himself over. Yixing pointed out into the distance until Jongin saw what he saw, and instantly, the latter stood alert.

   A convoy of seven sleek and black executive cars uniformly s their way down the road from the north. Like a silent serpent, the convoy moved fast, weaving in and out of other traffic without breaking formation.

   It was an unusual sight, even for Yixing and Jongin, who had seen more than their fair share of the world’s underbelly.

   Yixing’s gaze trailed up the road north from where they came from; the land of the vampires. He’d seen cars like that during the event in Hallowmire. Those vampires associated themselves with a powerful pureblood vampire whose name escaped his mind temporarily, but there were whispers about how this vampire had an alliance with the demon king himself.

   “The vampires have been very active as of late,” muttered Yixing, “They’re starting to come out of their cities in droves.”

   “I saw a few of them when we were passing through the Middle Ring,” said Jongin, “They’re not even trying to hide anymore.”

   Yixing watched as the convoy followed the road west towards the human city of Merehua.

   “I wonder if they are going to Merehua?” he asked out loud, “And if so, what for?”

   The HLV presence in Merehua was well known now. Even they wouldn’t dare set foot in there. Jongin laughed out loud, chuckling with scepticism.

   “Merehua? They're on a suicide mission obviously. The humans would crush a group that size in seconds,” he scoffed.

   Yixing pursed his lips, unable to join in with the humour. Everyone could see that tensions had soared ever since the demon’s tried to open the portal. The humans revealed their military strength, and the peace had been shattered. Hallowmire was just the beginning of the skirmishes; the number of human towns that had been destroyed was so numerous, that it wasn’t classed as breaking news anymore. The demon king himself had been on the frontlines of some of these attacks, vowing to root out the human opposition, and reaping revenge for what happened in Hallowmire.

   War was coming again.

   “Good luck, going to Merehua, you idiots,” mused Jongin, waving at the convoy, “My brother could probably kill you all without batting an eyelid.”

   Suddenly, the convoy signalled and took a turn off the main road, driving away from Merehua. Yixing furrowed his eyebrows at the sight. There were only small human towns down that road, like Greyfleur and Whitewater.

   “What the vampires doing so far south?” Yixing asked.

   “Maybe they got scared,” shrugged Jongin. He turned away, thoroughly disinterested, “Humans. Vampires. Demons. It’s their war, not ours, so I don’t really care.”

   “If you didn’t care, then you wouldn’t be on this mission, helping your brother,” Yixing said, following from behind and giving Jongin a playful slap across his shoulders.

   Jongin winced, but didn’t reply. Instead, he sat back down again at the Mag Stone, letting out a satisfied sigh as the magic soothed his muscles. He closed his eyes and started massaging the many injuries that covered his body in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

   They left the pack in the early hours of the morning a couple of weeks ago, but it hadn’t been an easy journey. Jongin was so excited at first. Yixing hadn’t seen that spark in his eyes in years, but the consequences of leaving the pack soon caught up to them. A couple days later, they were ambushed late in the night by some of their ex-pack members who had tracked them down by scent.

   With two versus twelve, Yixing and Jongin were beaten until they were on the brink of death until a roar of a dragon flying overhead scared away their attackers. Battered and bruised, Yixing carried an unconscious Jongin to the nearest Mag Stone a mile away, and they clawed back what was left of their lives.

   Since then, Jongin was on edge, always looking around and caring about nothing but their survival. They lost a few things that night, one of which was Jongin’s precious phone, but they managed to keep the list that Jongin’s brother had given them. They diligently continued their travels, making sure they would complete their goal of marking all those Mag Stones in time.

   Yixing sat down beside Jongin and rifled through his bag. Moments later, he produced a couple of beaten cans of tuna for their humble dinner. Holding out his fingers, they transformed into pearlescent claws that opened both cans with ease.

   “Here. Let’s eat,” said Yixing, nudging at Jongin to open his eyes.

   The latter took the can with a grateful nod and started eating its meagre contents. But Jongin’s hands were shaking too much; the contents of his spoon spilling back into the can.

   The sight of his friend struggling pained Yixing heart. Jongin kept saying he didn’t think his arm was broken, but Yixing saw his arm being repeatedly stomped on during that ambush.

   “Give me that,” Yixing said, gesturing at the spoon, “I’ll feed you.”

   Jongin pouted openly, pushing Yixing’s hand and turning away.

   “I can feed myself, I’m not a cripple,” Jongin grumbled, “Look after yourself first.”

   With a frustrated sigh, Yixing leaned against the Mag Stone, feeling its warmth soothe the large yellow and purple bruises on his back. They were ugly reminders of using his body to protect Jongin from the onslaught of attacks from their ex-pack members. It was painful, but seeing Jongin struggle to eat pained him even more. Without the full moon, their recovery was slow and cumbersome.

   The remaining Mag Stones were scattered miles apart across the border of the Outskirts, and there was only a month left until the demon king’s second attempt. Yixing wasn’t sure they could mark them all in time for Jongin’s brother. It was still crazy to him that a single human could tap into the magical core of the world.

   “You know, I’ve been thinking about what we’re doing,” said Yixing, “These Mag Stones have been around for centuries, housing a wealth of power that I can’t even understand, and yet your brother is planning on using them to protect the world…”

   “Yeah, what about it?” said Jongin, still apathetic.

   “Your brother must be a god,” said Yixing.

   For the first time in a while, Jongin broke out into a small but warm smile.

   “He’s not a god,” Jongin said, smiling fondly at memories of the past, “He’s just a good person, always protecting something or other.”

   Unconsciously, Jongin ran his hands across the bite scar on his leg. Yixing closed his eyes, reflecting on his own past.

   “If only I was half as good as your brother at protecting those in need,” he lamented.

   Yixing knew that Jongin was giving him that look again, but he ignored it. They both knew what he was referring to. From the depths of his bag, Yixing pulled out a weathered-looking notebook and flipped to the back where a worn photograph was nestled within the pages. The edges were long faded, and crinkled lines crisscrossed across the happy faces smiling at the camera. Yixing ran his finger across the photograph, a nostalgic smile forming on his face.

   It was a group picture of their friends, taken during the summer before the Great War started. It was one of the few things that Yixing managed to salvage when he and Jongin visited the ruins of his home almost a year after the war started. Yixing could still remember