“You are not welcome here.”

One of the councillors. Jimin wasn’t sure which one – they were all so nondescript, so quiet during the meetings.

“I’ve been told,” Jimin said. “I want to talk to Dahyun.”

The man laughed. “No.”

“Why not?” Jimin asked reasonably. “Tell me one new problem that would arise from that.”

Just as he thought – the man was silent, glaring with narrowed eyes. “Stay where you are. I’m going to get the High Mother.”

He obeyed that, standing still in the middle of the hallway. It wasn’t going to work out, but he didn’t regret it yet. He was regretting things less and less. He didn’t know if he was becoming stronger or if he just couldn’t feel these things anymore.

But in the end, it didn’t really matter, did it? Dahyun would die and it would all crumble anyway. The whole thing was a waste of time. This whole process of gathering here was a waste. It was incredible how poorly something could turn out.

Maybe he was wasting his time, too. But he didn’t put a lot of value in that. His time was his to waste.

Dahyun’s, on the other hand – she only had so much left. And while, for a painful moment, that had felt like a reason to leave, just a second later he realised there was no better reason to stay. To fight for this.

The councillor returned with Mother Soonkyu, dressed elaborately as ever. She looked less stony than usual, more uncertain, and Jimin didn’t know what that meant.

“No,” she said the moment she was within earshot. “You’re not seeing her.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m clinging to any chance I have to bring the sun back. You’re not going within fifty feet of her. Ever again.”

That gave him pause. Ever again. He’d never thought of the power behind the concept of forever; how much it could mean when death was so close to someone he’d hardly even had for a minute. Would Soonkyu not even let him say goodbye?

Why was he surprised?

“You really think it can still happen?”

Soonkyu pursed her lips. “It’s not about what I think. It’s about what I hope.”

“So you admit ‘thinking’ doesn’t play into it at all,” Jimin snapped. “Just let me speak to her.”

“What even makes you so sure she’d agree to that? She wants her death to be worthwhile, you know.”

“I think she’d rather not die at all, actually.”

“We’d all rather that. At this point, what we want is so far out of the equation that there’s no point discussing it.”

“Is it? When someone only has days to live, you really can’t afford to consider her feelings for a moment?”

“No,” Soonkyu answered quickly – and her eyes were glossy. “I can’t.”

Her voice broke.

“You should leave, Jimin. Forget her. You may not believe me, but I don’t want you to suffer. But sometimes we have no choice in these situations.”

“I’m not leaving. I need to see her.”

“You won’t,” Soonkyu said softly. All the anger in her body seemed to have vanished. “Go, Jimin. You’ll just hurt her more this way.”

Jimin shook his head. “I haven’t done anything to her. If she’s hurt, you’ll need to look somewhere else.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Soonkyu said, and she sensed that Jimin had lost. He could use force, but Dahyun would be punished for it. She’d told him that sufficiently. “See him out, Luhan.”

The councillor nodded, stepping forwards, and Jimin hated himself for turning with him, moving away.

“And just so you know, Jimin, we’ll be killing her tomorrow.”

Jimin’s fist clenched hard. The crushed feeling in his insides grew stronger, and even more so with every step he took away from Dahyun.

***

“It’s happening in the garden.”

“I understand,” Dahyun said with a nod. The Sun Council stood before her, serious.

“It’s a bridging point between the Temple, even between our lands. It symbolises the coming together that must happen in dark times.”

But only so much coming together. Once the line was crossed, that was it.

The more Dahyun thought about it, the more the metaphor didn’t work. She nodded anyway.

“They are preparing it now. In the morning, we’ll take you there.”

She nodded again.

“How are you feeling?”

Did they still care? She wasn’t sure what to say. She’d been lying about it this whole time, but it had reached a new level now, and she didn’t think the lie would even come out of .

“I don’t think my feelings matter, Mother Soonkyu,” she answered. Her voice sounded dead, even to her own ears.

Soonkyu drew back slightly, something changing in her eyes. “If your feelings didn’t matter, the sun would return to us tomorrow, Dahyun.”

There was venom in her voice, and Dahyun winced, not expecting it from the woman who’d practically raised her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, blinking away the wetness in her eyes. She was crying too much lately – it wasn’t doing her any good. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Soonkyu appeared before her, crouching so she was level with Dahyun’s sitting position, and she took her hands. Dahyun was almost shocked for a moment, that Soonkyu would even want to touch her knowing she’d been in contact with Jimin.

And with a stab, she realised that must be how Jimin felt, all the time.

“We don’t hate you, Dahyun. But your mistake has…”

“I know,” Dahyun said quietly. “But he deserves better, Mother Soonkyu. I can’t help but believe that. He’s more than his Essence.”

Soonkyu blinked, then smiled grimly, pulling her hands away. “We perform the ritual at exactly midday. Only complex magic will tell us when that is, and you’ll have to help draw it in. But that’s tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Dahyun said. “Until then?”

“Just… rest,” Soonkyu said with a sigh. “Try to relax. It may be your last chance.”

Both Soonkyu and Dahyun knew she wouldn’t be able to do that. But she didn’t say that. She just nodded, and Soonkyu hesitated before leaving, as though there was something more she wanted to say.

She didn’t, though. Dahyun stayed very still as she watched her leaving.

“Mother Soonkyu,” she called out suddenly, and Soonkyu turned around, her brown eyes looking both cold and sympathetic, somehow. “Will I ever see him again?”

The look changed, both coldness and sympathy vanishing, replaced by something else. “No,” she said. Then she left the room.

Dahyun stayed still, the world echoing in her head. Just like that. No.

A tremoring breath rushed through her, and suddenly her whole body was shaking.

***

The silence had been in the room slightly too long, so Yoongi sighed.

“This isn’t going to work.”

He felt all sets of orange eyes settling on him, cold and quiet.

“You’re the one who led her away before she even had the power, you know.”

“Of course,” Yoongi’s fist clenched. “I thought they’d be faster.”

“They’re never fast,” Jinri said, seating herself opposite him. “And now we need to do something about this. It could be bad.”

“No,” Yoongi said, a smirk reaching his face. “Their superstitions are keeping things together. For now. But we need to stop it.”

“I’d love to hear a plan,” Taemin said, still more stoic than usual. They hadn’t been laughing much since the girl appeared – and it wasn’t just their mood. They could all feel it, the strength they’d lost. Yoongi cringed.

“How about we just kill her?”

“She’s not meant to have that power,” Yoongi said quickly, ignoring Soojung’s suggestion. “She’s spent too much time with the Moon.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that now,” Jinri snapped. “So what are we going to do?”

Yoongi leaned back, sighing. “Is there anyone likely to work with us?”

The foxes looked between themselves, thinking hard. “Maybe someone in the Moon Council. Their leader seems unlikely.”

“Let’s not bother with that,” Soojung said, stepping forward. “There are far too many uncertainties. They know we’re here, and their guard is up. We’re on our own.”

“What’s your suggestion, then?” Yoongi asked. “Anything brilliant?”

“Why don’t we just –“

They heard a knock on the door. They all became very quiet instantly, so quiet Yoongi wasn’t even sure the others were breathing as they stared at it. Was that Sun Child back, to finish the job? Had they been found by the guards? Before it wouldn’t have been a problem, it was so easy to fight some armoured fools away. Now they were so weak…

“Knock knock,” said a gentle voice, and the door pushed open, and a girl peeked out. Just her head and the flowing hair, falling down her side, were visible, and she wasn’t that last girl, though she was possibly around the same age. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and Yoongi smirked, glancing over at Jinri for a moment.

She was a fool. Just when they needed strength, she stepped in so easily.

“My name is Tzuyu,” she said in a sweet voice, a small smile playing about her lips. Her eyes wandered over the group, meeting the eyes of everyone who watched her, and she didn’t look away as her hand, previously hidden behind her back, came into sight, lightly grasping a dagger.

The edge was stained dark with old blood, and the rest glimmered strangely, refracting and reflecting the scant light so vividly that it cast her as a shadow on the wall. Yoongi’s smirk vanished instantly, and he felt his muscles growing weaker, felt the energy fading from his whole body all at once the more that light shone onto him. “I’ve been learning some interesting things, Fox Clan,” she added, looking up with a dangerous glint in her eye.

Slowly, Yoongi stood up.

“Let’s discuss this,” Soojung said quickly, stepping forward, ahead of them. “Tzuyu – such a pretty girl. Don’t you have a wish? One thing that would complete you?”

It was a difficult gambit. Their powers were so measly they could hardly cast the proper magic to create a vastly different reality. But still, to their relief, the girl smiled, lowering the dagger for a moment. A moment was all they'd need, really.

***

The garden had never been so well-lit. Candelabras spiralled around it, creating a unique path to the centre of it all – that huge pedestal she’d never properly seen. There was no statue on it, just flatness. Dahyun was shivering, but she didn’t want to complain about the cold. She’d lost the right, by now.

Instead, she just watched, occasionally letting her eyes drag to the Moon path, letting her mind wander to Jimin and his cold eyes and his rare smile and his soft touch, but other times she’d refuse that instinct, focusing intently on the patterns of the candelabra posts or the work of the servants around them.

It was more than the temperature that was making her shiver. It was her people. The Sun Clan smiled often, they cared for one another, but that care hung loosely. Dahyun remembered all the victims of exile she’d heard whispered about, remembered hearing nothing but of how they’d damage their culture, and now she wondered what they’d done, why they’d done it. She’d been so sheltered, it only occurred to her how little she knew of the world outside her Chapel, outside her religion.

It was so cold, beneath all the smiles and the caring. It only lasted until something was damaged, and then the smiles turned to glares, the people who used to love you are only willing to speak to you when duty necessitates it.

And it was entirely possible that she was going mad, that she was self-centred and couldn’t realise that she deserved this for some great crime. But no part of her could understand what that crime was. Caring for someone and being cared for in return? She’d been doing that forever, with everyone around her, and only now was it a crime. Only when that person became someone with a curse.

She silenced her thoughts. She’d been the one who insisted they keep seeing one another, even after she learned the truth. It wasn’t loving him that was the crime, it was the consequences of that – it was the fact that she’d allowed them to come to fruition.

It was cruel reality that was the problem. This strange trick of faith that told her her love was dangerous, and was right about it. Jimin had no fault in this, and nor did Dahyun, and nor did even Soonkyu.

“Dahyun,” someone called from where people stood surrounding the pedestal. “We need you now.”

She began walking over quietly. Reality was so cruel, maybe it was for the best that she’d be escaping it soon.

“This is the sun,” someone said after Dahyun poured some energy into the pedestal. A small piece of light was lit up on the surface, defying all shadow. “As it moves closer to the centre, it will grow in size. Midday, it will be at its largest, taking over the whole slab. You’ll be standing on it by then.”

Dahyun nodded, and footsteps sounded as another approached.

“I’ve found the dagger,” said Soonkyu, walking down the spirals. In her hand was a glittering blade, seemingly made of glass or crystal, sending out far more – and far brighter – light than it took in. The edge of the blade looked sharp, but it was difficult to see the tip clearly through the light being sent out, almost burning Dahyun’s eyes.

She looked away from it, not just to protect her eyes. Today. It was happening today. She bit her lower lip.

“Do I still need to be here, Mother Soonkyu?”

“I think it’s for the best that you stay in eyeshot,” Soonkyu answered calmly as she reached them, placing the dagger on the pedestal. It made a clanging noise as it hit the stone, and Dahyun flinched.

“Alright,” she conceded, still trying not to look at the knife, even when its brightness tried to draw her eyes. For one small moment, she wished she didn’t have this interminable between-time. But for now, she’d have to find something to enjoy about being alive.

a/n- thank you for reading! I'd like to ask some of you for a favour - could you please comment, and let me know anything you have questions about? I won't answer them in the comments, but I'll make sure they're clarified over the next (and final) few chapters. I don't want to leave any gaping holes or questions at the end, and there's so much I might have missed D: but I 100% understand if you choose not to do that. I hope you enjoyed the chapter :)