Another installment of  this AU,  to celebrate EXO's comeback, and because the awesome Laymontae made the gorgeous poster and background for me :DDD

Time frame: a few months after the epilogue

Iola was tired. No, it went beyond tired.

She was exhausted.

She had predicted that being the Chosen Soul would be hard work. She just never expected it to be this much tiring.

During the first few days when she began her new life as a permanent resident of this world, questions aroused on how she should spend her time. The Elders thought it would be best for her to join them on their daily council assembly since it goes without saying that as the Chosen Soul, she was expected to govern Zolora, the same as the Guardians when they retire and become Elders.

The Guardians themselves join the assembly from time to time though their presence was not mandatory. They are after all, still Guardians and their utmost priority is the Tree of Life itself. Hence, their main task was to guard over Iola and even then, they would split themselves into their regular two groups, taking turns in coming to the assembly.

But Iola herself was expected to be there daily. Not only because she lack learning in politics and government studies, something she needs to know in order to govern the country later on, but also because it was her doing that enable access of the Tree of Life to everyone who wishes it. The Elders had sent proclamation to every land known, with Iola’s insistence, of this fact and to offer help to any kingdom who wishes to reconnect to the Tree. Foreign dignitaries from all over the world had immediately flocked to Zolora and they all clamored to have an audience with Iola, eager to see the Chosen Soul.

Iola didn’t really mind it, at least not that much. The Tree of Life was always meant to be for the whole world’s usage, and she was glad to help any country who had forgotten about the spirits, to teach them how to bond back with the spirits around them and use the world’s resources wisely.

But the daily council assembly was not the only thing taking up her time. On top of that she also had to study under the tutelage of the Haven Sanctuary’s Teachers. Even though she was literally connected with every spirits there ever is, the Elders and the Guardians themselves thought it would be best if she learned to control her power or at least learn how to manage it so it won’t exhaust her too much.

The lessons from the Teachers were not that difficult; it was easy to control the elements since they were all threads already tangled in her mind and she had the added advantage of being able to communicate with the spirits directly, being guided and taught more from them. Most of the time the Teachers just taught her of ways to meditate to strengthened her core, so she won’t buckled down under the stress of having all those threads bogging down her head.

Other times she would hold open meetings with regular citizens, either in the castle or in Sagiv. She would talk to anyone who asks, teaching them gently to empty their minds and open their hearts, so that they would be able to feel the spirits and the world around them, in the hope that humans can live once more in harmonious peace with nature.

All of those were things expected of her as the Chosen Soul and Iola accepted it, knowing the consequences of her decision to stay here. But sometimes, when one thing piled one after another, she had to admit that the burden could be a little too heavy. Her days were filled with endless activities from morning till night, that she barely has time to breathe and take a moment for herself.

Sometimes she wondered whether she would be this hectic had she been in back in her own world, doing what was supposed to be her senior year at the university. She’d heard enough horror stories from her older brother of how much the workload would be in the last year; research paper and assignments almost every week, tons of books to read, not to mention a final thesis to write. On his own senior year Yunho had come home for Christmas break with dark eye bags and  an obvious weight loss, and their mother had fussed over him and feed him almost continuously during the whole break.

But at least he still has weekends, a concept to which was not applicable here in this world. Because apparently, when you are trying to govern a country, you have no day off. No weekends, no holiday, no break.

Back in her own world when she was still in her freshman year, she remembered having read up about the Medieval age and wondered what does those people do back then for entertainment, in a world where there are no TVs or internets. Rolling her eyes she thought what a silly thought that was; she have none of those things here now, but she couldn’t care less anyway. At the end of every day she would be too tired to do anything more than eat dinner and promptly fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillows.

A knock sounded on the door, followed by a voice informing her that she was requested to go to the Council Hall, jolting her from her reverie.

Iola took another look at the bronze mirror in front of her and could barely hold back a sigh. Her skin looked a bit pale and pasty and there were beginnings of dark circles underneath her eyes.

“Oh well,” she huffed, blowing a stray of hair that had fallen on her forehead. “At least they let me wear what I want.”

A small smile played on her lips as she looked down on her clothes. The loose tunic and pants she had on were comfortable and easy to move in, while the leather boots on her feet were sturdy yet soft enough that it doesn’t pinch her feet.

The castle’s dressmaker and numerous seamstresses had tried to clothe her in elaborate garbs, with more ruffles and lace and embedded jewelry than she had ever seen. They claimed it befitted her role as the Chosen Soul but Iola had refused adamantly, instead asking for attire that are similar to the one she had been wearing during her journey with the Guardians. There were shocked gasps and scandalized murmurs at her request and arguments that the kind of clothing she asked for were designed for men and no ladies would be caught dead in them.

Iola had to bite back a laugh at that; obviously the concept of being a tomboy was not known in this world. But she wouldn’t budge in her request, arguing that those kinds of clothes were better in the long run since she had to move everywhere and dresses would only stricken her moves.

In the end they relented and made special garments for her, though they tried to be sneaky about it. Colorful fabric and a flowery pattern here or there, some even have seed pearls or elaborate golden stitching on the hems or sleeves, was the dressmakers’ ways of trying to make her clothes more ladylike. Iola rolled her eyes when she saw the clothes but decided to keep quiet, thankful enough that they made the clothes as her wish and that the fabric was strong and sturdy yet soft to the touch.

Another set of knocking sounded on the door, urging her silently. Iola couldn’t hold back a sigh now and tried to straighten her shoulders. Remus had bounded closer at the sound, rubbing its horn on her waist playfully while Romulus her hand at her other side, a lowly keen rumbled on its chest.

“Well,” she breathed softly, trying to take encouragement from the drachensteins’ simple action. “Here goes another day.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Yixing was rather worried.

Scratch that, he was very worried.

He can see the way Iola’s shoulders seems to slumped more and more each day, how the dark circles under her eyes seemed to be more prominent than ever.

Last night was the last straw. They had been having dinner together in the small dining room on her living quarters, as was their habit. Wufan and Joonmyun sat at each end of the long table as the rest of the Guardians scattered around it, while Yixing took the seat at Iola’s right side as always. It was halfway into dinner, while Yixing was conversing with Minseok when he felt an added weight leaning on his left body. Turning around slowly he found that Iola had fell asleep on his shoulder, the knife and fork still held loosely in her fingers though her right hand had tilted precariously close to be immers