autumn 1/3

Yongguk didn’t know why he hadn’t come to the Surface in so long. Its beauty was far too incredible to have missed; as far as he could see, there were red, orange and yellow leaves, decorating the treetops and the forest floor, crunching as he walked over them.

At first, the trees were a shock to him. Yongguk had never seen such colourful leaves before. He could recall green on the trees, and brown on forest floors, but never these warm colours. He knew better than to be surprised – the spirits of the forest may have decided to try something new – but he couldn’t help feeling lost. Like he had been left behind while everyone moved on.

The god closed his eyes, focusing on the crisp, cool air around him. The Underworld was warm and felt like home to him, but it had nothing so refreshing. He remembered a time when he used to escape to the forests after being exhausted of his duties, but he had stopped, long ago, thinking he had grown up.

Yongguk continued strolling, passing a meadow with an abundance of flowers, of a wide range of colours. The flowers covered the ground like grass, reaching from one end of the clearing, to another.

He gently plucked a flower from its stalk, admiring how its petals curled delicately. It was coloured white, tinted with the lightest purple, and its petals were soft to touch. In the sunlight, it seemed to glow. His heart sunk. If he took it back with him to the Underworld, there was no doubt that it would crumble and disintegrate into ash, like all plants. Nature belonged on the Surface, not below, where there was only death.

He placed the flower on the ground and continued walking.

Admittedly, Yongguk was not truly ‘going’ anywhere. The god was simply following wherever his legs took him. Before long, the sounds of rushing water filled his ears, and he walked towards the spring, curious if he would find any animals there. So far, he had only heard of birds in the trees, which was strange. From what he had seen, the forest would be heaven for other animals, and yet it was as empty of life as the Underworld.

He trudged through the trees, pushing through branches until he could see the spring, water rushing from a small waterfall. There was even a young doe at the bottom, leaning over where the water pooled to drink.

Yongguk found his pace quickening towards her, trying to keep his footsteps quiet, as to not spook the doe. Her ears flickered in his direction, and she stopped drinking, now alert. He tried to not make any sudden movements, but he couldn’t completely mask himself – that would be impossible. It would be best to just announce himself as a friend, not a threat.

He was only a few feet away from the river when he felt the ground beneath him crunch, a sound different to the dry leaves from before. A piercing shriek made the deer bolt, and Yongguk immediately dropped to his knees, searching to see what he had hurt.

His eyes widened when he saw a human hand recoil beneath the bushes, and he reached out to grasp it with his own. He heard a muffled whimper as the hand tried to pull away again, but then there was only silence. The hand was trembling in fear – and it felt cold.

“Why are you hiding yourself?” Yongguk murmured. He let go of the hand, watching it disappear into the leaves. “There is no need to fear me,” he promised, hoping that it would be enough to convince the human to leave the bush. He had no idea why one would be under a prickly plant to begin with.

Time passed without another movement from the human.

He didn’t move an inch, hoping that the human would crawl out on his own. He wasn’t expecting the plant’s leaves to recede into its branches, and its branches to recede into the forest ground, until it left nothing behind but a lean boy on the forest floor.

His body was curled up, protectively holding his hand to his chest. He was lying on his stomach, sprawled out vulnerably. Yongguk couldn’t miss the sharp stake that was impaled deep into his leg, or the thick blood seeping from the wound. The floor around his leg was even stained red, hidden with the warm-coloured leaves.

Tears were gathered at the corners of the boy’s eyes as Yongguk quietly observed his state, and he regarded the god with a mixture of fear and distrust. He looked so small, splayed out in front of the elder, even though Yongguk could see he was definitely a lot taller than he was. He had lost too much blood. The god could already sense death looming over him, waiting to drain the life from him, to replace the colour of his skin with coldness. He had seen it happen before, millions of times.

Yet, there was a spark in the youth’s eyes that told him that death would not take him so easily.

Yongguk hoped so. He was beautiful.

Finally, he noticed the loose white clothing that the boy was wearing, and realised that his earlier assumption – that the hand belonged to a human – was incorrect. That would explain how the bush disappeared, without any movement from the boy.

“What are you doing here, young nymph?” he wondered aloud. The poor thing was shaking in not only fear, but weakness, and he seemed to refuse to answer.

The boy was still breathing steadily, but he had been here for a few days already, no doubt captured by the animal trap.

“Will you let me free you?” Yongguk asked gently, watching as the nymph his dry lips and took a breath.

“L-Lord... Yongguk,” he croaked. Yongguk nodded – and was surprised to see the nymph relax at his confirmation. What was he so afraid of, if the God of Death was a better alternative? The nymph opened his mouth again, but Yongguk shook his head.

“Do not strain yourself,” Yongguk hushed, fingers combing through the nymph’s soft hair in an attempt to comfort him. “Removing the stake will hurt, but I will do it swiftly.”

The boy nodded and Yongguk moved to his bleeding leg. The wound was large, much larger than the stake, evidence that the nymph had struggled before realising it was causing him more pain. When the god tried to pull the stake out, he realised that it required more force than the nymph probably possessed, especially when he was so weak.

Yongguk grunted as he pulled the metal out of the nymph’s flesh, wincing at the sound of his cry. He heard the leaves around him rustle, before all was silent, except for the nymph crying into his hand, trying to muffle his sobs.

“It’s over, it’s over, sweetling,” the god soothed, the nymph’s hair. He discarded the stake on the floor, and slid his arms under the boy’s knees and back, lifting him up ease. He began walking towards the spring without any hesitation.

At the riverbank, he settled the nymph down, making sure his wound wasn’t disturbed. The stake didn’t fully go through his leg, but the injury was still deep, to the bone. It looked horrific, even if Yongguk had seen worse.

The boy stared up at Yongguk, his light brown eyes regarding him with curiosity and wonder, even though his cheeks were damp with tears. He didn’t flinch when Yongguk adjusted him in his lap, so he could sit comfortably, and reached up to wipe his tears away.

“Are you strong enough to drink?” Yongguk asked.

The nymph nodded, and Yongguk watched in fascination as he stretched his arm out towards the water, and a vine grew. It curled downwards, where its single leaf dipped into the spring to collect water. The leaf was brought to the boy’s lips, and he drank greedily

After a few moments, he stopped and the vine returned into his palm.

“Thank you, Lord Yongguk,” he said timidly. He still seemed weak, but much stronger than before. He tried to move off Yongguk’s lap, and the god assisted him. Pink covered his cheeks, but he didn’t refuse the help, simply remaining silent as Yongguk faced him.

Every time Yongguk gazed at him, he was surprised at how captivating he was. He was innocent, pure, yet somehow matured. Like he had seen many things in his lifetime.

“May I know your name?” Yongguk asked.

The nymph smiled, his eyes sparkling with mirth, as if he knew how interested Yongguk was already. “I am the nymph of these forests. My name is Junhong.”

Yongguk couldn’t hide his relief at finally being able to put a name to a beautiful face, but Junhong’s words confused him.

“Do you not have a family, young one?”

“I am almost nine hundred years old,” Junhong protested Yongguk’s affectionate name, but he quietened immediately. Perhaps he recalled that Yongguk had lived longer than time. “My nymphai are gone.”

“Gone?”

“Murdered,” Junhong’s gaze lowered to his lap, and he stopped looking at Yongguk entirely. The god wished he could hold him closer, but he did not want to spook the other. Especially when he was like this.

“That’s why you feared me, at the beginning,” Yongguk said. Junhong didn’t reply, but he did not correct him either, so the god knew he had spoken the truth. “Who caused you so much pain?”

Junhong was either unwilling to answer, or thinking of what to reply. He bit his lip nervously, and looked up at Yongguk.

“The villagers nearby...” the nymph began, and Yongguk stiffened. “They are still learning how to survive. They do not know that the forest supplies them with so much more than meat.”

“They wanted to eat you?” Yongguk asked, alarmed, and the boy shook his head hurriedly.

“No, no! My lord, you misunderstand,” the boy’s lips were quirked, and he seemed amused for a split second. Yongguk would have been offended, if not for Junhong’s hand holding onto his arm. “The trap was for other animals. I fell into it because I was not watching where I was going.” He flushed in embarrassment.

“Your nymphai all fell into traps made for other animals, then?”

“No. The villagers hate nymphs, as well,” Junhong explained, and he held his hand out. From his palm grew a single stalk, blossoming into the exact flower Yongguk saw earlier, just as delicate. The leaves framed the flower, and Yongguk could only watch in amazement as even more flowers grew from the nymph’s palm, covering his skin.

Junhong looked at his creation with sadness in his eyes that spoke of his loneliness, and the flowers disappeared as quickly as they came. “They are envious and fearful of our powers, so they try to eliminate us, before we hurt them, or take their food. But... nymphs are not violent creatures. We would never want to fight them.”

He looked up at Yongguk, who could see the beginning of tears in his eyes. “I-I’m sorry. You must have heard of stories like this before. I’m only boring you.”

“No,” Yongguk shook his head. “What those villagers are doing is terrible. Even if I had heard of stories like this before, that does not make their actions any less evil.” Yongguk knew nymphs weren’t violent creatures. From what he had seen already, Junhong seemed docile, and definitely too trusting to be cruel.

Rage filled his body, hot and burning. The selfish actions of the villagers had caused a young nymph so much pain – he had lost his family. Without knowing, Yongguk felt a snarl escape his throat.

“They are not all like that,” Junhong was quick to say. He hadn’t shrunk back at all, unafraid of Yongguk. The god was surprised, both at his words and his bravery. “There is one human in the village who I have considered a friend since he was a child.”

“But he did not come for you,” Yongguk pointed out.

Junhong squared his shoulders, clearly challenging the god’s accusations. “He would not have been able to find me, nonetheless. I hid myself so I could not have been found by any human.”

Yongguk took a breath to calm himself, and immediately went cold when he realised he could still feel death nearby – Junhong’s wound was still bleeding out.

“I apologise, I forgot about your injury so quickly,” he stared at Junhong, who cocked his head in confusion. “In the Underworld, I have a healer, who could look at your wound and fix it before long. Definitely quicker than it would heal by itself. If you’ll allow me, I could bring you to him.” He looked at the nymph, feeling strangely hopeful.

Perhaps Junhong would love the Underworld. Perhaps he could bring some life into Yongguk’s days, which were usually filled with death and gloom.

Junhong looked shocked, but then his face closed up, and he looked down. “I think it would be better if I remained here, my lord.”

“But... you will not heal quickly. You may not heal at all.”

A large leaf appeared and Junhong placed it on top of his wound, biting his tongue so he would not hiss. He wrapped it around his leg. “It will heal in its own time,” he replied. When he looked up at Yongguk, he looked serious. “This forest needs me, and I do not wish to abandon it.”

Yongguk tilted his head. It had been long since someone had spoken to him so strongly, and he suddenly realised that the nymph had thought he was trying to lure him to death.

“You misunderstand me, young one,” he said finally, in amusement. “I was not inviting you into the Underworld permanently, but only to heal your injury. I understand your confusion, though.”

He moved to stand up, leaving the nymph sitting on the river bank. “Then, I will leave you in this forest to heal,” he promised, eyes locked on the younger’s. Junhong was staring up at him in shock.

“I-I apologise if I offended you, my lord,” the nymph bowed his head, looking ashamed.

“Do not apologise, it was an easy misunderstanding,” Yongguk shook his head. “Will you allow me to return to check on your healing, though?” he asked, seeing the nymph immediately look up, eyes shining in the sunlight.

“Of course!”

Yongguk leaned over to card his fingers through the nymph’s hair for the final time. “It was delightful to meet you, Junhong, nymph of these forests.”

“I’m honoured to have met you, Yongguk, Lord of the Underworld,” Junhong returned his smile, and Yongguk had to resist the urge to lean over and slot their lips together.

“Until I see you again,” Yongguk said lowly, before he vanished, leaving the nymph alone and next to the river bank.

When he returned to the Underworld, he felt himself release a breath he had not known he was holding. He felt his lips form a smile, and he entered his palace without losing it.

He had not felt so comfortable with someone, for a long time.

“You look like a fool, smiling like that, Yongguk,” he heard a voice call, and he looked up to see the mischievous face of his healer. Himchan was on the second floor of the palace, staring down at Yongguk, with a smirk. Behind him stood his lover, Yongguk’s most trusted attendant, but Jongup was both silent and emotionless, as usual.

Yongguk never fell into the trap of refuting Himchan’s teasing – that would only result in more smart comments from the man. Instead, he felt his smile widen. “I met someone today, Himchan. On the Surface.”

“Oh?”

“A nymph,” Yongguk answered happily. He looked down at his fingers, remembering how the nymph was so comfortable around him. He hadn’t even minded Yongguk’s touch. Often, people feared him so much, they thought everything he touched would die. Junhong had also called him the Lord of the Underworld, not the God of Death, like so many would. Whilst both were true, Yongguk did not like to be reminded of the death that constantly surrounded him.

His smile softened as he tried to remember every detail of their meeting. “He was the most beautiful being I have ever laid my eyes upon.”

“Infatuated so soon?” Himchan raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure he was not an incubus?”

“I am sure,” Yongguk said confidently. He released a quiet sigh as he made his way up the stairs, so he could talk to Himchan comfortably.

“I think I will court him.”

catch me on twitter @sproutjun and tumblr @junhng! 

i put teasers and stuff on twitter sometimes, but mostly i just. cry

by the way, this fic will have 12 chapters, not 3! it's just 3 chapters per season.

tell me what you think about this chapter!