IR: [Can we talk?]

KR: [I can’t]

KR: [I’m sorry]

Irene stared at her chat with Krystal. The timestamps for their conversation were from several days ago. All attempts at contacting either of the f(x) girls had gotten Irene nowhere, and no one else seemed to know where any of the senior group was. Less than helpful, the staff around the building had simply brushed her off when she had started asking around. She was on one such mission again, paused in the middle of a hall in the company’s main building after having been unceremoniously dismissed by one of f(x)’s stylists.

Glancing at her phone one last time before shoving it in her pocket, she wondered at the curt replies she had received from Krystal. The younger girl was usually very warm and considerate with her, much like Wendy, but Irene was getting the feeling that she was being ignored.

And speaking of Wendy, as Irene finally looked up, she noticed the younger girl standing a short distance away. It was clear Wendy hadn’t wanted to bother her while she was on her phone, and it melted Irene’s heart. Noticing Irene had put her phone away, however, Wendy took that as her cue to approach.

“Irene… can I ask you something?”

Irene took a small breath, and gave her a cheeky smile. “It’s not boy trouble, is it?”

Wendy halted and shot Irene a surprised look. “Boy-? What-?”

Irene waved away her own pathetic attempt at humor. Though she had regained her stamina after traipsing through Seulgi’s Dreamscape, she had yet to fully return to her playful self, and trying to force it wasn’t helping the situation. “Sorry, what did you want to ask?”

Wendy was still a little thrown off by Irene’s remark, but she had already spent most of the morning psyching herself up to ask this, and so she soldiered on. “Why are we doing this?”

Irene furrowed her brow. “Doing…?” The question sounded hauntingly familiar, but Irene couldn’t be sure what Wendy was implying.

“This,” Wendy iterated, gesturing at them both, and then sweeping her arm to include the hall, with door after door to practice rooms. “What are we even doing here? Is this real? Are we actually debuting as musicians? Is f(x) an idol group?” The more she spoke, the faster her words came out. “Is this what we auditioned for? What is all of this for?” She physically possessed copies of other SM artists’ albums - music was being made and produced. She had worked so hard for all of those monthly evaluations, and now their debut, but ever since Taeyeon lifted the veil and showed her that there was a whole other world lurking beneath the surface of what she had accepted as reality, she felt like she had no idea what she was doing anymore.

Irene walked over and put her hands on Wendy’s shoulders, giving the waifish girl a light shake. “Wendy, stop.” Now she understood why she was getting a strange case of deja vu from Wendy: she had asked a very similar question not five years ago, when she had first been approached by SM representatives.

“We are debuting as an idol group,” Irene said, wanting to make that first point clear. She gestured for Wendy to sit down with her on one of the long benches along the wall. Wendy obliged obediently. “Wendy… do you really think we’re working as hard as we are - as we have been for years - because this isn’t real?” she asked.

“But-”

“No, just listen for a second,” Irene commanded, trying to remember how it had been explained to her. “Why did you audition? You were in some competition, right?”

Wendy nodded, wondering if it was a rhetorical question, or if Irene would allow her to answer. After a beat it seemed something was expected of her so she spoke up. “It was for Cube first, then SM,” she clarified.

Irene remembered now. “But why?” she prompted.

Wendy thought for a moment, trying to anticipate where Irene might be going with this. “Because I love it. I love music, I love singing…” her voice trailed off. Singing, yes. Performing up on the stage in front of large crowds? That was still a fear she was trying to work through.

“Because you saw other artists up there in the limelight and you were inspired to follow them?” Irene asked, trying to direct her answer.

Wendy met her gaze with curiosity in her expression. “Yeah, I wanted to be a part of that. It felt like… it feels like the kind of place where I belong.”

Irene gave her a small smile. “And that is what we’re doing this for.”

Wendy was lost again.

Irene leaned back against the wall. Above them, sunlight streamed in through the windows that ran the length of the long hall. “We’re promoting so that others can find us. So others who are like us know we’re out here.”

She glanced over to Wendy and saw the dawning of understanding spread across her expression. Another oversimplification for the poor girl’s sake, but Irene figured she could delve into the more complicated political and economical reasons some other time.

“It’s not safe out there for us.” Or, Irene thought darkly, it’s not safe for others if we’re out there. “Did Joy explain to you the difference between us and the Fae? The True Fae?” Irene asked.

Wendy shook her head, though it seemed like she was still processing that profound piece of information Irene had bestowed upon her.

“We’re being hunted. They owned us, Wendy, and they want their property back.”

+++

She wasn’t a stranger to being called before the King, but this was the first time she would have to appear in front of the Court alone. Krystal smoothed the wrinkles of her t-shirt and took a breath as she faced the double doors to the large office suite. She had only finally received her summons moments ago, after days of asking, and wasn't exactly prepared to face the Court.

It would be a lie to say she hadn’t been expecting some sort of contact from the King, though. One doesn’t simply burn down a significant fragment of the local Hedge and expect to get away with it, and it was for that reason that she had begged her manager for an audience.

“They can’t just hold her without a trial!”

“Actually, they can,” her manager replied, looking at Krystal sympathetically. “This isn’t a democracy. Whatever the Court decides is for the safety of the Haven. You know that.”

“But Amber’s not the threat!” Krystal yelled. “Let me talk to them. Please!” She couldn’t let them just keep Amber locked up. Her manager had tried to explain the political motivation of the imprisonment to her, but Krystal wouldn’t see reason.

Her manager sighed. “I can try to get you an audience. You’re lucky he likes you.”

Krystal scoffed. “He’s not going to like me much after what I have to say to him.”

“I’m putting my job on the line, you know,” her manager reminded her delicately. Krystal took a breath and composed herself.

“I know, I know. I won’t do anything stupid,” she placated. She hadn’t even had a chance to speak to the others about this before they had come for Amber. They had all woken up the next morning and she had been gone.

Krystal remembered the promise she had heard Seulgi recklessly make to Irene before they had disappeared that night.

“I promise I won’t leave you.”

Amber had once made her a similar promise, but where was she now? Locked up somewhere in the SM Court’s Haven, needing Krystal to come begging for her release.

“Stupid.”

“I beg your pardon?” a staffer asked, slightly startled. He stood poised to open the doors to the suite for her but paused at her utterance.

She waved a hand, dismissing her own comment, and the staffer cleared his throat and pushed the doors open for her. As she entered the office suite, the secretary looked up at her. There was no pretence of Masques here, in the heart of the SM Haven, and she couldn’t help but be repulsed by the secretary’s disturbing Seeming. He sat rooted, both figuratively and literally to his desk, looking more like the tangled trunk of a mangrove tree than a humanoid figure. His long, tendril-like fingers bent and curled as he gestured at the office door at the far end of the suite. “His Majesty is already waiting for you,” his earthy voice groaned, like the rubbing of boughs together in a stiff breeze. She muttered a quiet thanks and quickly crossed the room.

She knew that this wasn’t just an ordinary door; she knew she was stepping back into the Hedge, even if it was just a pocket of it their King had carved out for them. As she opened it, a low blanket of mist poured over the threshold, curling around her feet, and she walked inside. As soon as she crossed into the throne room she could feel her Masque being stripped away, revealing her shadow-drenched nature. It was a Seeming that fit well with her shyness and reluctance to be singled out by others, but today she had to be assertive and make a strong case for their actions in the Hedge. She couldn’t hang back and slip into the darkness and hope that this would all pass her over.

She had to stand up for them both.

She had waited on the King before, so she was expecting the broad, opalescent diaz with the gilt throne perched on its summit. She expected the sunlight pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling ivy-covered windows, refracting off of the mist pooling across the floor. She anticipated a handful of Courtiers in the wings, watching from behind the marble pillars lining the room.

What she hadn’t expected, however, was to see Luna and Victoria standing at the foot of the diaz, waiting for her with concerned expressions. Luna’s energy snapped and crackled, echoing in the sudden hush that fell over the room. Krystal could see her Seeming reveal itself in a blue spark of electricity that arced between her forearms as Luna hugged them in front of herself. Victoria, their leader, cut a much less threatening figure, standing there silently in the full grace of her nature. She almost looked normal, if you could call her perfect athletic figure 'normal', though Krystal knew hers wasn’t the kind of Seeming that was as obvious as others'. She hadn’t earned the title of f(x)’s main dancer through hard work alone.  

Even though she had requested an audience with the King, Krystal began to second-guess herself and approached cautiously, like a child about to be scolded. She paused in the middle of the room and watched her two older members warily. She wished she could be more relieved to see them, but the looks they were giving her made her heart drop into her stomach.

Before she could say anything, however, the King himself entered from a side chamber and quickly crossed the room. He mounted the steps to his throne and undid the button of his suit jacket before seating himself. Krystal tried her best to meet his gaze, or where she assumed his gaze was coming from. Any exposed skin peeking from his suit - his face, hands, ankles - reflected everything around him, like his skin was a bright, silvery, anthropomorphic mirror. One of the most dangerous Seemings - and perfectly suited for this kind of position - he was no one, and he was everyone.

She could barely make out her own figure in that reflection, warped across the contours of his near-featureless face, as he regarded her:

“Krystal Jung,” he greeted, his voice strangely cordial, considering the reason she had asked for this meeting.

“Your Majesty,” she returned, impatient with the niceties. Victoria could almost feel the tension coming off of Krystal from where she stood. She watched as Krystal all but absorbed the light streaming into the court: the more her mood fell, the more void-like her figure became.

This wasn’t lost on the King. “Now, now, Krystal. We’re all on the same side here. You don’t need to stress yourself,” he said patronizingly. “Your manager told me why you wanted an audience, and before you launch into some impassioned tirade, I’ll go ahead and tell you that I can’t let Amber go.”

“But-!” Krystal began, and Victoria tried to make a small gesture for Krystal to stand down, but Krystal ignored her. “You can’t just keep her locked up!”

There were whispers from the wings, the Courtiers thoroughly enjoying the drama.

The King crossed his legs and sat back in his throne. “Oh, can’t I?” he asked lazily. There was something in his voice, like a thinly veiled threat. He examined his silvery fingers absently, though what he could possibly see, no one could guess. “Do you think I want to keep her… where she is? Do you know what she did?” he asked, turning his attention back to the shadowy girl. “Do you know how much damage she caused? Do you know how close to the Goblin Market she was when she set that fire?”

Krystal was trying desperately to reign in her frustration. So what? So what if Amber had set the fire? Out of everything that happened that night, Amber should be regarded as a hero, not an arsonist. But suddenly she realized that there was something in the King’s tone: he was asking her these questions like he had already anticipated she wouldn’t know the answer.

She finally glanced at Luna and Victoria, who were begging her with their eyes and expressions to not implicate herself.

Were they… letting Amber take the fall for them both? Had Amber not told the King that Krystal was there, too?

“No,” she whispered. She looked at Luna and Victoria’s guilty faces, stunned. “This isn’t right.”

“What was that?” The King asked. “You will speak up when addressing me,” he reminded her.

“Do you know who she was attacking?” Krystal asked, raising her voice so he could hear. So they all could. “It was Hunters! We weren’t just lighting fires for fun in the Hedge! There were Hunters, and we had to protect Se- someone.” She faltered at the end, not wanting to give away any more details than absolutely necessary. They may all belong to the same Court, but after what she and Amber had discovered that night, perhaps they all weren’t quite so united in their goal as they appeared to be.

The King sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “We? How do you know all of this?”

Victoria turned around to address the King. “Please-”

“I did not address you,” he said down to her quietly, commanding silence.

Krystal's suspicions had been correct. None of them had told the Court that she had been there, too. But why?

She took a breath. She hated this. The shadows of her Seeming were roiling, like a strange, black haze obscuring her features. She hated that Amber had pulled a stunt like this. They all could have fought in her defense. Why were the others so complacent with her being locked away?

“Because I was there, too. We were both fighting, and Amber saved us. If she hadn’t done what she did, we would have been… we might have ended up just like…” She couldn’t continue, and let her voice trail away. If Amber deserved to be punished for what she had done, then they both did. It wasn’t Amber’s fault that Krystal’s Seeming wasn’t quite so… destructive.

The King stood slowly. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, his featureless face conveying no emotion. “Thank you for being honest,” he acknowledged, his voice becoming amiable once again. “You’ve reminded me of something, and I think it’s time you knew,” he continued, and he gestured into the wings. A figure approached the diaz and once again there was murmuring amongst the Courtiers.

Krystal felt her heart stop as she saw who it was. “Sulli.”

“Krystal-” Luna called sympathetically.

“SULLI!!!” Krystal cried, running towards the girl.

“Krystal, wait-!” Victoria reached out as Krystal darted past, but she didn’t have the heart to stop her.

Krystal crashed into Sulli and hugged her tightly, Sulli looking stunned as she was crushed in the smaller girl’s arms.

“You’re back,” Krystal cried into her shoulder. “I thought- I thought you were…”

Victoria and Luna hurried over and tried to slowly pry Krystal off of the girl. “Krystal, please,” Victoria whispered to her, tears stinging her eyes.      

Krystal looked up at Victoria in confusion as she was pulled back. Luna bit her lip, trying not to be upset. She couldn’t meet Krystal’s gaze. As Krystal returned her gaze Sulli, that’s when she realized - this person didn’t have a Seeming. She looked like a perfectly normal human being, exactly like Sulli, but... This wasn't Sulli, this was...

“You’re… you’re a Fetch,” Krystal said numbly, tears still trailing down her cheeks.

“They got her,” Victoria said, choking back her own emotions. “They knew her name, Krystal.”

“She’s gone.”