[title song: jet pack blues - fall out boy]
[there's a lot of really vague implications of assault so please be aware of that! also not edited, will do that tomorrow!]

chapter 16;

It’s drizzling, the sound of rain splashing against stone almost soothing. The rain is cold, bone chilling, and the sky is dark. The world is nothing but darkness and the soft pitter patter of rain. She can sense the planet’s magic, it’s life force, pulsing against the soles of her feet.

Drip, drip, drip. Her mind can’t focus on anything else but that sound.

“Asha.” A familiar voice cuts through her thoughts, tone playful, and her head snaps to the side. She shivers, her expression hardening at the sight of a young man sauntering out of the darkness.

“Sungyeol.” She replies, tone cold. She turns back to the lush, green field before her, the golden threads of life pulsing beneath her feet.

“That’s Prince to you, is it not?” Sungyeol—the Prince—bends forward, until he’s at eye level with her. He grins as he reaches out and flicks a strand of wet hair out of her face with his index finger. She grimaces at that, swatting his hand away. He chuckles, his dark eyes glinting, as he reaches out anyway to tuck that stray strand of hair behind her ear. She shivers under his gaze, as he eyes her up and down in scrutiny, before his eyes meet hers again. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

She stares at the field for a moment and she wants to tell him that that’s a very good question. She doesn’t know why she’s here. She just shakes her head, frowning. Sungyeol peers at her curiously, head tilting to the side. His hand drifts through her hair, smoothing back her soaking wet hair as if she’s some type of pet. Only then does she realize that she’s drenched in rain from head to toe, her nightgown sticking to her body uncomfortably. “I must have been sleepwalking.” She mumbles, hoping he doesn’t inquire any further.

“You do tend to do that a lot but I don’t believe that’s what’s happening here.” Sungyeol says, thoughtfully. “You poor, poor thing.” He her head again, tone filled with mocking sympathy. She looks up at him and he’s grinning again, that same damn wide, gummy grin she hates so much. “Your body can’t stay away from that damn tree.” Sungyeol says, still grinning. Then he wrinkles his nose, “I can’t believe I’m getting a bit jealous of a tree.”

“That’s not funny.” Asha snaps, stepping away from him.

His expression morphs into a pleasantly serene expression. “Oh, but it is.” His hand tightens around the nape of her neck, grip steadfast, cold, wet hair plastered down her back. He easily takes her jaw in his palm and forces her to turn and face the west. Her fists clench but she doesn’t resist against his grip. Not yet, at least. His lips brush over her ear and she grits her teeth, shivering internally at the sensation. “You’re drawn to the tree, princess. You can’t escape it.” He pauses to chuckle to himself, “You can’t escape me.”

He lets her go and she stumbles out of his grip. He laughs and laughs and laughs, the sound of it ringing in her ears. Her blood boils and she hates how he sounds as if he’s manifested inside of her head. She hates it when he challenges her.

He laughs and laughs and laughs until she turns on her heels and slams her clenched fist square in his face, a sickening crunch filling the otherwise quiet clearing. She can’t even feel the planet’s energy anymore, her bare feet cold.

His eyes glint in the dark, that chuckle she’s come to dread escaping his lips, and she absolutely panics. She turns on her heels and runs.

She always forgets how fast he is.

~.~.~.~.~

Hyemi wakes with a start, her heart pumping wildly in her chest. Was that a memory of her mother’s? How the hell is Hyemi seeing these? She can see the resemblance between the Prince—Sungyeol—and Kris, especially regarding their mouths, their gummy grins. She squeezes her eyes shut, breathing heavily, when she hears a not-so-subtle cough. Slowly, she opens her eyes and nearly jumps off the bed in shock. “Minseok?” She exclaims, her eyes wide.

Minseok gives her a lazy salute, from where he’s seated, cross-legged on the chair at her desk. Minseok smiles, cheeks rounding cutely and eyes glittering in the soft lamplight. “Sup.”

“What are you doing here?”

“The door was open.” Minseok just shrugs, sighing as he places his elbow on the desk and leans sideways against his palm, his fringe falling into his glinting eyes. “Castle security really these days. I would ask why but they did hire me to be your own personal trainer.”

He’s dressed in a fluffy sweater and dark jeans, the cuffs around his hands gone. Hyemi blinks at him, frowning. “They just let you out of the dungeons?”

He hums, nodding. “If I do some government work, they’ll let me out on probation.” Then he tilts his head and stares at her curiously, “Although, I can’t figure out exactly why you’re considered government work.” She purses her lips but before she can respond, Minseok shrugs and hops out of the chair, brushing off his jeans. “Oh, well, enough small talk. Let’s begin.”

“Begin wha—.”                                                  

Hyemi flinches, cringing back against the bed frame. She opens her eyes, staring in horror at the sharp piece of ice jutting out from the wooden headboard, right beside her head. The piece of ice quivers and shakes with the force of its velocity, the headboard cracked. She immediately throws the blanket off her legs and scowls at Minseok, who’s still standing at the desk, eyes glinting strangely in the dim light.

He holds up a single finger. “Lesson one: constant vigilance.” Minseok says before snapping his fingers. “Never let your defenses down.”

The icicle jutting from the headboard dislodges itself, slowly, the sound of wood cracking right in Hyemi’s ears. Hyemi practically rolls off the bed in shock and before she can speak or move, the icicle spins and spins, until it finally stops, sharp end pointing in her direction.

She jumps sideways, the icicle smashing into the wall where she had been barely three seconds ago. It shatters into a bunch of pieces, water splashing all down the wall.

“Lesson two,” Minseok cuts through the impending silence. Hyemi’s head snaps up to meet his eyes and her eyes widen as icicles begin to form in a half-circle in front of him. She counts four of them, her eyes flickering between each one of them. He keeps his gaze locked on her. “When you know your opponent is incredibly skilled at long-distance combat, you should try to find a way to engage them in short-range combat. Most of the time, it’s their weakest skill. This works both ways.” Minseok speaks as if he’s reading something straight out of a textbook and Hyemi scowls at him, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. “Observe their movements and find your opening.”

Four icicles face her, obscuring Minseok from her view. He waves a hand and she ducks. One of the icicles still manages to slice through the sleeve of her shirt, pain shooting up her arm. “.” She hisses, rolling to the side. She glances up at Minseok, wondering why he doesn’t make a move when she’s obviously so distracted. Observe their movements and find your opening. That’s when he waves his hand again, nonchalantly, and she yelps as she barely rolls out of the way, sharp icicle digging through her pants, tearing at the seams. She goes through this for a good five minute, dodging Minseok’s onslaught of icicles, when it all clicks. She realizes there’s a reason why he keeps pausing between attacks. He needs time to recharge, she realizes, her eyes lighting up at the new information. Minseok grins, approvingly, when she pushes herself to her feet. Then he flicks his hand downwards and she barely has time to look up. Icicles come crashing down on her and she practically dives into the corner, gasping when one of the icicles drives through the fabric of her sleeve, tearing it apart and shallowly slicing her skin.

She doesn’t stop to think, then, she just runs at Minseok, trying her best to remember those Hapkido lessons Baekhyun had given her when she was ten. She drops her arms into a defensive stance and kicks her leg upwards, fast and sharp like Baekhyun had repeatedly insisted, and she grins at the brief surprise flickering in Minseok’s eyes. But then it’s gone and her face falls just as he lifts his arm, ice forming a wall along his forearm. Her bare foot slams against the sheet of ice and pain bursts up her foot. He blocks her kick, throws his hand back, and grips her ankle, twisting it at a weird angle, grip ice cold against her skin. He flips her sideways and slams her down onto her back, so hard that she grunts in pain, groaning. This all happens in the span of a few seconds, her vision swaying at the quickness of it all.

Minseok kneels beside Hyemi, then, and holds up three fingers, grinning cutely, his frosty eyes turned up into crescent moons. “Lesson three: fighting like that only works if you’re fast. Keep your hands at face level to easily block hits and keep your legs low so they can’t be swept out from under you. High kicks with the wrong opponent could get you killed.”

Hyemi grimaces at Minseok, rubbing her back sullenly as she sits up. “That hurt.” She mumbles.

“Sorry.” Minseok says with an incredibly amused grin, not sounding sorry at all as he pats Hyemi’s head. “Let’s get to the training grounds, this room is too small.”

Hyemi never thought she’d say this but she wishes she had Jongin back. Minseok is a thousand times worse than Jongin and they’ve only just started.

~.~.~.~.~

Calling training awful would be an understatement. Minseok had lead Hyemi to a giant courtyard somewhere deep within the castle. It’s almost as big as the clearing Hyemi had trained with Jongin in. Though the grass is just as brown and dead, the courtyard is surrounded by brick walls that lead up into the sky. Thankfully, the courtyard is big enough that Hyemi doesn’t feel confined by the castle walls surrounding it; it’s open enough to make her feel like she’s outside in a forest somewhere.

Minseok had sauntered into the center of the clearing and promptly folded his legs beneath him, plopping down. He had pulled out a book from thin air and before Hyemi could question him, he had snapped his fingers. That’s when Hyemi sincerely wished she was back with Jongin running laps or chasing him down as he teleported away.

Minseok had just sat there, flicking his fingers back forth, not even watching as sharp icicles rained down on her. Hyemi had to dodge each and every glinting icicle, or at least attempt to. She didn’t make it anywhere near Minseok, much to her annoyance since she’s been itching to punch him in the face literally two minutes after he showed up in her room, and she barely managed to avoid getting fatally wounded by Minseok’s ice daggers.

Now here she is hours later, lying on her back, scratched up and limbs limp from over exertion.

Hyemi tries to catch her breath as she stares up at the yellow sky, angry looking fuchsia clouds drifting by.

Minseok’s head pokes into view after a couple minutes pass and Hyemi doesn’t even have the strength to sit up. A hand pats at her head, gently as if she’s a tired puppy or something.

“Good job.” Minseok says, without much inflection in his tone. He sounds bored, the tiniest hint of amusement hidden somewhere beneath all the boredom. “You did well, today.”

“Oh, you.” Hyemi mumbles, shaking his hand off her head, as she glares up at the sky.

Minseok giggles then and she’s forgotten how strange he was, “Aw, I love .”

Hyemi weakly swats at him, or at least attempts to since her arm barely lifts off the ground. She’s so tired. There’s a long, long moment of silence before Minseok leans over Hyemi again, a large quilted blanket dangling from his hands. Hyemi frowns, wondering where the hell he had gotten that blanket from and how he manages to produce things from out of nowhere.

Wordlessly, Minseok wraps Hyemi up in the blanket, swaddling her like a burrito and she just stares at him, incredulously, too confused to protest as he tucks the corner of the blanket under her chin and pats her head yet again.

“What are you doing?” She asks, in a flat tone.

Minseok snaps his fingers and suddenly her body is being lifted off the ground, icy coolness slowly seeping through the blanket a bit and making her shiver. He’s lifting her up on an ice-stretcher that he made out of thin air. “So you don’t get cold.” He says, simply.

“That’s…” Hyemi squirms in the blanket a bit, feeling strange when she starts floating forward, Minseok’s head bobbing up and down beside her as he walks. “Really thoughtful of you.”

Minseok just pats her head, his mouth curved up into a gentle smile. Hyemi frowns up at him, eyeing him. “Why do you keep petting my head? Is that your way of comforting me?” Hyemi blurts out, frowning up at him.

She expects him to laugh at her, but instead he freezes in place.

Minseok blinks, rapidly, before glancing down at her. His icy eyes turn glassy, distant. They gloss over with emotions Hyemi doesn’t understand, dark mirth barely contained.

He doesn’t answer Hyemi, the still silence only ever filled by the sound of a guard shouting from across the castle or the rustling of dried leaves whenever the wind blows. After a moment, Minseok starts pointing out different landmarks and describing memories that coincide with them, continuing as if Hyemi hadn’t spoken. Hyemi blanches at the fact that he’s passively pointing out exactly where he killed his first victim so long ago and Hyemi decides not to interrupt him in his trip down memory lane because, well, she’s not in the mood to provoke a murderer in any way. It’s strange how passive he is about it all and Hyemi remembers a term she learned in Psychology: sociopath. Kris and Baekhyun had left her to train with a damn sociopath.

Minseok points at a tall tree the color of black ash. “That’s where I was confessed to for the first time by a girl named Fei.” Hyemi nods, prompting him to continue, glad that he’s not talking about who he’s murdered anymore. “It was all very nicely done. She had a box of handmade chocolate and she looked really cute. It was very sweet, you know? Too bad I don’t do romance.” Minseok sounds wistful.

“What do you mean?” Hyemi watches as Minseok peers down at her, the yellow sky creating a strangely colorful backdrop behind is head.

He shrugs a little, one shoulder going up. Hyemi doesn’t expect him to explain but he speaks without hesitation. “I’ve never felt romantic love before. When I try to…think about it...” Minseok purses his lips, the ice stretcher bringing Hyemi to a sudden halt, jerking her. Hyemi watches him think, his eyebrows scrunching together. “Whenever I try to imagine myself doing something like cuddling or holding hands or being romantic I feel like killing someone.” Minseok shudders, as if the thought of cuddling is more detestable than murder. Hyemi literally gapes at him. “Romance is just. I don’t get it and I don’t like the idea of it. It’s gross. Makes me sick.” Then Minseok blinks and eyes Hyemi thoughtfully, icy eyes glinting in amusement. “But don’t worry, though. I haven’t been disgusted enough to kill someone in years. Murder isn’t really a regular thing for me.”

Hyemi decides to ignore his last part, because frankly she finds his words disconcerting and more than a little frightening. Instead Hyemi remembers how he said he had someone, the time she was in the dungeons with him. She wonders if she should pity him, but the expression in his eyes, the way his eyes harden just a bit, tells her that maybe he doesn’t want the pity he’s expecting from her. He seems content almost and Hyemi figures he doesn’t need her pity. “Don’t you have a boyfriend, though?” Hyemi blurts out instead, instantly blushing at her sudden outburst.

Minseok’s eyes glint at that and Hyemi’s body jerks forward as the stretcher starts moving again, making her gasp. “You’re a nosy one, aren’t you?” Minseok sing songs, just as the stretcher drifts Hyemi up the stairs and into the castle, high ceilings and dusty tapestries greeting her.

She blushes even more and mumbles a soft “Sorry.”

He just shakes his head and speaks quietly, an uncharacteristic gentleness softening his usually icy tone. “If you must know I do have someone and though we might not agree on many…lifestyle choices, he understands the romance thing. He understands me.” Minseok mutters the last part to himself, gentle fondness coloring his distant expression and softening the sharp planes of his face. Hyemi can’t help but smile at his tone, at how soft he looks when he talks about someone he obviously cares a lot about, even if it’s not quite romantic. It’s sweet and it makes her mind wander to Baekhyun before she catches herself. She promptly pushes those thoughts into the deepest recesses of her mind.

Minseok doesn’t speak for a long time and the next thing Hyemi knows, she’s being floated into her room. Her ice stretcher drifts upwards and Hyemi is suddenly at eye-level with Minseok, drifting right over her bed.

“Just so you know, there’s a saying for nosy people like you.” Minseok tells her, eyes piercing and grin like a cat’s.

“I’m not nosy. I was just curious.” Hyemi retorts, pursing her lips.

“Nosy. Curious. It’s the same thing, isn’t it?” Minseok rolls his eyes, “Back in my hometown, the villagers used to say something like ‘curiosity killed the dragoncat’. Maybe you should take a moment to remember that.”

Hyemi blinks, eyeing him with confusion. “You mean ‘curiosity killed the cat’?”

Minseok stares at Hyemi for a good minute, unblinking, expression blank. “Cats don’t exist, Hyemi.”

“But dragoncats do?” Hyemi exclaims, taken aback by how serious Minseok looks.

Minseok nods, slowly, scrutinizing Hyemi critically. He eyes her like she’s being an idiot. “Yes, they’re everywhere.”

“You’re so weird.” Hyemi mutters, shaking her head in disbelief.

“You’re the weird one here.” Minseok responds with a wave of his hand. “Need I remind you that you’re the foreign alien species?”

Hyemi grimaces, “Please, don’t.”

Minseok just laughs, the sound tinkling and clear. “I’ll leave you to wallow in your culture shock then. Take some time to mentally prepare yourself for tomorrow’s training session.”

Hyemi actually groans at that, “I’d really rather not.” Hyemi tells him.

Minseok looks vaguely offended at Hyemi’s comment. He huffs in annoyance, snapping his fingers, and the ice stretcher disappears from beneath Hyemi. Hyemi is unceremoniously dropped to her bed, landing in a startled, bundled up heap. Minseok mumbles something about rude aliens as he promptly walks out of the room, without as much as a backwards glance.

~.~.~.~.~

Hyemi just stares up at the ceiling, her fingers tracing along the cracks of the broken headboard as she remains sprawled across her bed, too exhausted to move. She mulls over the visions she’s been having lately. She’s not too sure what the King was to her mother but she has a feeling it wasn’t good. She wonders if the King—Sungyeol—was part of the reason why her mother decided to run away. Sungyeol didn’t strike her as a nice person, in fact, she thinks he had all the intimidating qualities of Kris, except amplified to a much, much larger scale. There’s something about him that unsettles Hyemi.

“Someone looks like .” A deep voice comments, startling Hyemi out of her thoughts. Hyemi’s head snaps to the side only to find Chanyeol and Baekhyun staring back at her, the former amused while the latter seems a little bit more worried.

“Not in the mood.” Hyemi retorts, groaning as she falls back to the mattress. It’s silent for a moment before a hand cards through her hair. She leans into the familiar touch, almost unconsciously.

“Kris wants to see you.” Baekhyun murmurs, voice awfully gentle and melodic. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She mumbles something incoherent but lets him pull her up into a sitting position. He brushes back a few strands of her hair and plucks pieces of dried grass out of her knotted hair, bottom lip jutting out cutely.

“Damn,” Chanyeol speaks, frowning. His voice breaks her reverie and she quickly looks away from Baekhyun, cheeks reddening when she realizes she’s staring at Baekhyun’s pouty pink lips for much longer than necessary. “Minseok really did a number on you.” Chanyeol states, poking her arm for good measure. She jerks her sore arm away, glaring at him as she leans against Baekhyun, who begins to help her to her feet.

“I miss Jongin.” Hyemi mumbles against Baekhyun’s shoulder. Baekhyun laughs and Chanyeol stares at her disbelief. “Minseok has sharp icicles. I don’t like them.”

Chanyeol laughs even as Baekhyun hands Hyemi pills and a towel, directing her towards the bathroom.

~.~.~.~.~

The pills are magical. Within minutes of swallowing them, she begins to feel rejuvenated, her limbs feeling infinitely better. She tries to be quick about her shower, basking in the way the warm water releases the tension from her shoulders. Hyemi looks down, watching the dried grass that had been stuck in her hair swirl around and around, soap and dirt slipping down the drain. The soap spins and spins, moving dizzyingly fast. Hyemi watches, mesmerized, her toes soaking in the warm, soapy water.

The water at her feet begins to feel cool against her toes and she blinks multiple times, wondering why the water is suddenly a dark murky brown. It’s still spinning however, going around and around and around and—

~.~.~.~.~

Leaves rustling in the breeze. That’s the first thing she hears, the sound of running water completely gone. Hyemi glances around, franticly, eyes darting to take in her surroundings. It’s dark but bright silver light floods over her. She looks up and gasps at the beauty of the sky. It’s filled with constellations; two moons situated on opposite sides of each other, one of them the size of the moon back home and the other one incredibly large, looming over her almost menacingly.

Where is she?

“Mom!” A soft, squeaky voice calls into the night and Hyemi jumps. “Dad!”

Hyemi tosses her head from side to side, searching for the source of the sound. Something tugs at her hand and she looks down, the hair at the back of her neck standing on end. It’s a young boy, with big eyes and even bigger ears, square frames adorning his soft, baby face. She recognizes the features but she can’t quite pinpoint from where, her frown deepening when he tugs at her hand again.

“Yoora.” The boy whimpers, “Yoora, please.”

opens and words come out on their own, “Chanyeol, let go.”

That’s not Hyemi’s voice. She starts to move and Hyemi realizes she’s not in control of her own body. It’s like she’s residing in a body that’s not her own, watching the events unfold through someone else’s eyes. Is this another vision?

The boy—Chanyeol, she realizes with a start, surprised at how different he looks—whimpers and tugs at her hand. His hand is warm in hers, almost unnaturally warm. She can feel her heart beating against her chest. Hyemi wonders if it’s in anger or in fear.

“Don’t go.” Chanyeol starts to cry and Hyemi feels the inexplicable urge to pull him into a hug. “Please.”

Instead, she gently pushes his hand out of hers and bends down to eye level. “I can’t do what they want anymore.” She murmurs, voice as gentle as the breeze pushing the leaves all around them. She pats Chanyeol’s cheek, her lips turning up into a tight smile. “This life isn’t made for me. I can’t watch them turn you into a…I can’t.”

Her eyes search his, intently, waiting patiently for him to understand. He sniffs, but he nods, slowly but surely. “Come back soon, sis.” Chanyeol mumbles, his voice cracking.

She just nods, smiling weakly as she stands up.

Hyemi’s vision blurs and suddenly she can’t breathe. Hyemi’s eyes snap open and all she sees is black smoke curling around her, engulfing her. All she sees is a fire blazing brightly all around her, slowly crawling towards her. She has nowhere to go.

She hears screaming and belatedly realizes that it’s her parents.

And then she sees him, kneeling within the depths of the blaze, flames at his heels. He’s older now; she hasn’t seen him in years. He’s all wiry teenaged limbs and disappearing baby fat. He’s so much older than the last time she saw him and it makes her heart clench. He’s growing up, she thinks, smiling despite everything.

He’s clutching his head, keeling over, groaning in pain. She wants to run to him, throw her arms around him, and tell him everything will be okay.

But she can’t move. Everything hurts too much. She lies on her stomach, tears slipping from her eyes, flames eating her up. It hurts so much. She just wants it to stop.

That’s when he looks up, his head snapping up so suddenly, she jumps. His eyes go wide and he starts shaking his head. But he doesn’t move. The blaze curls around her, swallowing her up, and it hurts so much. She’s on fire, white hot pain searing through her skin and turning her bones to ash.

Her vision blurs, black spots forming, and she belatedly realizes that she’s the one screaming.

The last thing she sees is a symbol forming on Chanyeol’s wrist. It glows a soft, calm blue. It contrasts so greatly against the angry red blaze engulfing her world that she finds herself focusing on it, memorizing it.

She wants to—

~.~.~.~.~

“Hyemi,” A voice calls to her, sounding frantic. “Hyemi, wake up. Wake up, please. , , fuc—”

Hyemi’s eyes flutter open and she finds herself staring deeply into extremely anxious chocolate brown eyes. “Hey.” She mumbles, blinking at him.

Baekhyun breathes out a sigh of relief, cool breath hitting her cheek. In a blink of an eye, his expression quickly morphs from concern to irritation. “You just started screaming in there and I found you passed out in the shower. You were out cold.” He glares at her as if it’s her fault. His sudden, unexpected anger makes her angry.

“Sorry for the inconvenience.” Hyemi snaps at him, not appreciating the fact that he thinks he’s allowed to be angry with her. These visions aren’t her fault and apparently she can’t even control them. He may not know she’s having visions, but she doesn’t think he has any right to be angry with her.

Baekhyun’s glare deepens, his eyes hardening. His voice comes out louder than she expects it to, his tone sharp, and she nearly jumps at the sudden outburst. “For ’s sakes, Hyemi, I’m not mad about the inconvenience.” Baekhyun’s jaw clenches.

Hyemi sits up, choosing to ignore him and his deepening scowl. He reaches out to her and she shakes his hand away, scowling. As she sits up, she realizes that she’s only wrapped in a large towel, her hair still damp. She blushes, blinking down at herself. She was barely dressed. Chanyeol looks sheepish when he meets her slightly mortified gaze, “Baek’s the only one who saw you , if it makes you feel any better.”

It doesn’t.

She turns her glare on Baekhyun, cheeks reddening furiously. She bets she looks like a tomato. Baekhyun’s still scowling at her, but there’s a faint pink blush spreading up his cheeks. He’s not looking her directly in the eyes, she notices. The very tips of his ears are dusted with red and Hyemi can’t help but find it endearing. She quickly shakes that thought away because she’s supposed to be mad at him.

“I’m going to go change.” Hyemi snaps as she wraps the towel tightly around her and maneuvers past Baekhyun, her arm brushing across his chest despite her efforts to avoid contact.

“Be careful.” Baekhyun mutters after her, irritation still coloring his tone, although she does catch an underlying edge of concern hidden somewhere in there.

~.~.~.~.~

Chanyeol’s showing Baekhyun his wrist when Hyemi walks back out. Baekhyun glances at her, apparently still angry, and she can’t help but blush at his eye contact, his own cheeks turning pink as well. Hyemi quickly turns her attention to Chanyeol’s arm, the diamond shaped symbol on his arm reminding her of her vision. She wonders if she had really witnessed the death of Chanyeol’s sister and his parents. Is that how he had gotten into the King’s Guard in the first place?

The symbol glows a familiar, soft blue and Chanyeol looks confused. “What’s wrong?” Hyemi asks, glancing between Chanyeol and Baekhyun, her eyes eventually settling on Chanyeol (because she’s too embarrassed to look at Baekhyun).

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Chanyeol shakes his head; the worried look is masked by a cheery smile. “The King’s Mark has been really off lately.”

Hyemi eyes his arm with a frown, images of fire and smoke filling her mind. When she looks back up at Chanyeol, his eyes flash just the tiniest bit, the smile too forced. Then, Chanyeol shakes out his wrist and walks out the bedroom door, his hair bouncing in the ponytail he pulled it up in. The bright red hair tie reminds Hyemi of fire and she can’t help but stare after him, lost in thought.

Someone touches the middle of her back and she jumps, startled. Baekhyun eyes her curiously. “Are you okay?” He asks, tone sharper than usual.

“I’m fine.” She responds, briskly, and makes to follow after Chanyeol.

Except Baekhyun wraps his pretty fingers around her wrist and pulls her back, sighing softly when she grimaces up at him. His eyes dart around the room, occasionally flickering back to her. She’s never seen him so flustered before. A blush creeps up his neck and she can’t help but grin, feeling a bit amused that she could fluster him so much. “Sorry.” He mumbles, the anger slowly crumbling out of his eyes.

“That’s a terrible apology.” She points out, pulling her wrist out of his loose grip as she crosses her arms. She purses her lips, frowning at him. Her expression softens at his pout and she sighs. “I hate it when you get mad at me for something I have no control over.”

Baekhyun blinks at her, confusion creating a wrinkle between his brows that Hyemi has the ridiculous urge to smooth out with her fingers. “What do you mean you have no control?”

“I just…” Hyemi looks down at her hands, fumbling with them. “I keep having visions. I can’t control them.”

“Of what?”

Hyemi quickly contemplates whether she should tell him about Chanyeol. Something at the back of her mind tells her not to so she just shrugs instead. “I don’t know. It’s all so confusing.”

She can tell from his expression that he doesn’t believe her, his eyes narrowing the tiniest bit. But he doesn’t push it, for once. Instead, he reaches down and takes her fumbling hands in his, her face immediately burning at the contact. “I wish you would tell me these things.” Baekhyun murmurs, tone smooth. “So I don’t come off as such an .”

“I'm pretty sure I’m going crazy.” Hyemi responds, rolling her eyes despite the fact that her cheeks are on fire. She’s surprised how steady her voice sounds when Baekhyun seems to be absentmindedly playing with her fingers. “I don’t exactly want people to know that.”

Hyemi looks up and watches as Baekhyun studies her face, the tips of his ears still pink. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I just. You scared me.” Baekhyun says, still tugging at her fingers. She starts to feel warm and fuzzy, her stomach turning, and she quickly looks away, focusing her gaze on their interlocked fingers. is dry and she’s pretty sure her hands are sweating, profusely. “Hyemi.” Baekhyun calls, voice soft as a feather as he lifts their intertwined hands and nudges her chin upwards. She glances up and he smiles, sweetly, gaze studying hers. He looks incredibly apologetic, a crease forming across her brow. “I won’t do it again.”

“Promise?” Hyemi asks, voice small.

Baekhyun just nods and the butterflies in her stomach go off kilter the longer she stares at his smiling face. Slowly, so slowly, Baekhyun leans forward, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Hyemi pushes herself up on her tiptoes, her fingers tightening around his. His head tilts downwards, his frame delicately pushing against hers. She wants to kiss him so badly; her eyes keep flickering between his soft eyes and his even softer lips. His lips hover over hers, teasingly.

“Sorry to be a major ,” A deep voice rumbles so suddenly, Hyemi jumps and her head smacks into Baekhyun’s nose. Baekhyun groans in pain, a hand untangling from hers as he clutches his nose. She curses, quickly reaching up to press gentle fingers against his nose, muttering a million sorrys as she tries to soothe his nose. “But we’ve got to get going.” Chanyeol finishes.

He’s grinning as if he’s not sorry at all and Baekhyun tosses a pillow at Chanyeol’s face, still rubbing his nose sullenly. Chanyeol bellows out a deep laugh and Hyemi unthinkingly tugs Baekhyun’s hand away from his nose. He glances down at her, startled. She gets up on the very tip of her toes so she can press the lightest of kisses against Baekhyun’s reddening nose before jumping away, blushing like mad.

She’s never seen him turn so red before. Chanyeol laughs louder, leaning against the doorframe to keep upright, and Baekhyun mumbles incoherently under his breath, sounding half flustered, half murderous.

Hyemi’s face remains red for the rest of the walk to meet Kris, even as Baekhyun nudges one of his hands through the spaces between her fingers. He swings their entangled hands between the two of them, almost nonchalantly, as they head over to meet Kris.

~.~.~.~.~

“Late.” Kris says, the moment they step through the door. Hyemi spots Zitao leaning against a wall, a black hood pulled up over his head, silver metal stick peeking out from beneath the folds of his hanging cloak. The room, she notices, has portraits lining the far left wall, opposite of where Zitao is leaning. She wishes she didn’t recognize the center portrait, where a stern woman eyes her with royal indifference.

Baekhyun says something Hyemi doesn’t catch, not when Kris is eyeing Hyemi with an extremely angry expression. “What is it?” She asks, blinking at him.

“There have been attacks on the countryside.” Kris states, eyeing her in blatant accusation. Wasn’t this his damn plan in the first place, to lure whatever is after her in one direction, so it’d be easier to take them out? Or at least that’s what she assumed the plan was since no one tells her anything. “Villages burned down. They’re not making detours. They’re coming straight for the castle.”

“And why are you looking at me like it’s my fault?” Hyemi asks, trying her best not to feel too guilty about the fact that innocent people are being killed because they’re (whoever they are) looking for her. “You’re the one who announced that I was here.”

Kris sighs, clearly annoyed. He rubs his palm across his face. “I’ll give you that.” Then his eyes meet hers and he looks completely serious. “I need you to figure out a way to connect with the tree, so you can amplify your powers. It’s time for you to stop ing around.”

“So you can turn me into a weapon.”

“At least I’m informing you about my plans.” Kris bites out, eyebrows slanted into a glare. Hyemi’s eyes drift to Chanyeol, remembering her vision. Chanyeol looks stiff; the hand Baekhyun doesn’t have in hers subtly brushes along Chanyeol’s forearm but Chanyeol doesn’t quite react. Hyemi looks back at Kris, who looks strangely guilty when his eyes flicker to Chanyeol. Then Hyemi glances at the wall of portraits, a particular portrait catching her eyes. She doesn’t know why her blood starts to boil at the sight but it does. “I could easily force you into this.” Kris finishes, dark eyes piercing her.

“Like your father did to my mother.” Hyemi states rather than questions as she shakes Baekhyun’s hand out of hers.

She relishes in the shock in Kris’s face. “What are you—?”

“King Sungyeol, isn’t it?” Hyemi questions, anger rolling off her in waves as she points at the portrait on the wall. She’s suddenly very angry. “Your father.”

Kris blanches at the name and Hyemi’s relishes in how caught off guard he is. Then he reins his expression back in, eyes hard as steel, and she momentarily wonders if she imagined the flicker of vulnerability. “I don’t know how you found out about him but let me assure you that I am much worse than my father.” Kris speaks, coldly. Hyemi notices the way Baekhyun stiffens beside her, jaw clenching, and the way Chanyeol looks ridiculously exhausted at Kris’s words. Even Zitao frowns in his corner.

“Is that supposed to reassure me?” Hyemi asks, haughtily.

Kris shakes his head, slowly. “My father is unable to serve his people because he was too soft. He let your mother betray him. I am nothing like him, on that front.” He takes a step towards Hyemi, eyes hard as steel. “If you do not do this willingly, I will make you regret it.”

“He didn’t let my mother run.” Hyemi doesn’t back off even as Kris looms over her. She thinks that long ago, she would have been too intimidated to stand up for herself, but she’s angry. She’s annoyed and angry and she’s tired of being pushed around. She thinks of her visions, of what happened whenever her mother had fought back and tried to run. “He was a ing to her and we both know that, don’t we? We both know how much of an your father is.”

“Shut up.” Kris snaps, eyes glinting. His voice comes out low and it brings shivers up and down Hyemi’s spine. There’s something familiar about his face, something about his defiant expression that reminds you of someone. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know a whole lot more than you’d think.” Hyemi responds, tone surprisingly steady. She grins mockingly at him. “I guess those are the perks of being spiritually connected to a tree that’s seen every single thing that’s happened on the face of this planet.”

Hyemi doesn’t expect to see momentary disbelief cloud Kris’s expression. There’s a moment where Kris blanches, eyes widening as he pales. That’s when Hyemi realizes Kris has secrets he’s afraid she’ll discover. The momentary fear in his eyes makes her feel strangely powerful. She likes it, she realizes, she likes holding power over people.

Before she can delve further into that revelation, Kris’s expression snaps back to indifferent anger. “You’re lying. You haven’t seen . You’re just nosy.”

“It’s only a matter of time until I figure out your secrets, isn’t it?” Hyemi murmurs, tilting her head at him. She ignores his nosy comment.

His jaw clenches and his fists curl. “You are just like her.”

Hyemi’s stares at him confusion. “Excuse me?”

Kris ignores Hyemi, stepping around her, robes billowing, as he turns to Baekhyun. “Can you get a hold of Joonmyun?”

Baekhyun nods, his eyes darting from Kris to Hyemi and back again. “Yeah, why?”

“They’ll be here soon. We need to gather up an army and she needs better access to the tree.”

Chanyeol speaks up then, “I don’t think the Royal Army’s going to like working with…our kind. It took years for them to finally respect me.”

“No offense or anything,” Zitao interrupts from his corner, the hood of his cloak suddenly gone. He looks at Kris, seriously. “But Chanyeol’s right. There’s the risk that they’ll turn on us.”

“We need them, unfortunately.” Kris just shakes his head, eyes landing on Chanyeol. “You gather up the Royal Army. We need our kind to get through this war and if you need to threaten the rest of them into compliance, then so be it. The Oracle says it will take a while for her to figure out the date but they will be coming here soon.”

“Who’s coming?” Hyemi interrupts, eyes darting from Baekhyun’s solemn face to Kris’s.

Kris doesn’t even look at her, his shoulders stiffening. “Just do your job and train with Minseok.”

Hyemi reaches out to tug on Kris’s sleeve. She doesn’t expect him to jolt at her touch, immediately pulling away, a hand grasping at his face. Hyemi pulls her hand back to her chest. This is the second time he’s done this, she thinks, watching him with growing confusion and irritation. “I want to know who’s coming for me. I deserve to know that.”

Kris stares at her, half of his face covered by his large hand. Then his lips curl up into a belittling smirk. “He has many names.” Kris says quietly.

“Kris.” Baekhyun speaks up, immediately stepping up to Hyemi’s side, his fingers digging into her forearm. “Don’t.”

Kris straightens up, removing his hand from his head. He tilts his head to the side and smiles, teeth bared, and it reminds her of Sungyeol. He completely ignores Baekhyun. “Yeonma, Yan Wang, Yama, Shinje, King Enma. He has many names, especially in your planet.” Hyemi blinks at him, wondering why those names sound so familiar. “He is the God of Death. No one knows his real name or what he looks like”

Hyemi remembers, then. She remembers her father reading to her from a book of mythology, how there was a man named Yeonma who would pass judgment on the dead, choosing what type of life each soul will be reincarnated into, whose position would be passed down with a new worthy candidate every few centuries. A chill runs down her spine because in this planet, the God of Death is no myth.

“EXO Planet and Earth are more connected than you think. The myths of your world had to originate from somewhere, right?” Kris’s voice interrupts Hyemi’s thoughts and Baekhyun’s finger tighten around her forearm, grip tight enough to hurt. “If you don’t want to help us then know that if EXO Planet goes down, Earth will suffer the same fate, sooner rather than later.”

Hyemi stares at Kris, observing his expectant expression. She thinks of Minah’s smiling face, of her father, and she slowly nods. “I…” She sighs. “Fine.”

Kris grins before walking out of the room, with a flurry of robes and swishing colors. After a moment, Chanyeol follows after him, the blue hair tie holding his hair up slowly slips from his hair.

~.~.~.~.~

After another gruesome training session with Minseok, Hyemi ends up slumped against one of the walls, sighing loudly as Minseok hands her a bottle of water, patting her head as he sits down beside her.

For some reason, Hyemi finds Minseok easy to talk to, although his reactions never end up being what she expects them to be.

“Kris is right.” Minseok says, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Earth and EXO Planet are inexplicably connected.” Minseok shrugs and wiggles his fingers, the brown grass in front of him slowly forming a thin layer of ice. “I’ve tried looking into it. The only thing I’ve noticed is the fact that most portals almost always form between here and there. Specifically this one place on earth with lots of weird shaped rocks?”

“Stonehenge.” Hyemi supplies, glancing at Minseok.

“There’s a lot of energy there.” Minseok says, nodding.

Hyemi tugs at the grass near her feet, shredding them into pieces in her hands. Minseok watches her movements before filling the silence. “You have a lot of energy inside of you as well.” Minseok purses his lips, “I’ve always wondered how you managed to blow up so many powerful people when you were just a baby. It makes sense now.”

Hyemi’s face snaps to the side so fast, she nearly gets whiplash. “How…how do you know about that?” Hyemi gasps. She had killed an elite group of people, all of whom she has a feeling weren’t a bunch of strangers, and Minseok somehow knows about it.

Minseok raises a delicately arched eyebrow, “I mentioned that your mother killed my mother, didn’t I?” Minseok frowns a bit, a crease forming in between his brows. “I thought it’d be too crude mentioning that you killed my mother. We only just met and I have some manners.”

“The elite group…” Hyemi trails off, hanging open in shock. Tears prickle at the corner of her eyes and she suddenly has the urge to apologize over and over and over again. “I’m so sorry. Oh my God, Minseok, I’m so sorry.”

Minseok just shrugs, waving his hands. “It’s fine, she was a anyway.” Hyemi doesn’t laugh breathlessly like she had last time, no, this time she sniffs, blinking at him. She wonders if he’s just being dismissive because he doesn’t want her to feel bad. She’s noticed throughout her brief time training with Minseok that he may seem uncaring and cold, but he doesn’t like causing unnecessary grief. Minseok glances sideways at her, his expression morphing into one of brief panic. “I’m serious. It doesn’t matter.” Minseok blinks rapidly, frown deepening. “Holy , don’t start crying.” He sounds flustered, his tone rising in pitch as his head whips back and forth, as if he’s looking for an escape.

Hyemi blinks, unaware that her eyes were currently filling with tears. She quickly wipes at her eyes, frowning at the ground. “How can it not matter? Your mother is dead because of me.” Hyemi mumbles.

“If she didn’t die by your hands, I would have killed her anyways.” Minseok speaks firmly. “So it really doesn’t matter to me.”

Hyemi watches him fidget curiously. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Minseok replies. The silence that falls between them is comfortable, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

~.~.~.~.~

A long time later, Minseok gives Hyemi a meaningful look, a slightly mischievous tilt to the corners of his lips. “Even if Kris is right, you have every right to get the answers to your questions.”

“They won’t tell me anything.” Hyemi whines, dropping her hands from her fighting stance.

Minseok gives Hyemi an incredulous look, even as he aims a punch at her, which she barely manages to dodge. She figured he would have this conversation with her without also training. “Then look for them.” Minseok says, slowly, as if he’s speaking to a child. He looks at her like she’s purposely being stupid.

Hyemi thinks of the map Chanyeol had given her, folded beneath her pillow, and grins at Minseok, just as he lands a kick at her side and sends her sprawling, Minseok reminding her of ‘constant vigilance’ in that ridiculously sweet tone of his.

~.~.~.~.~

Hyemi should be sleeping but instead she’s wandering through the halls, map clutched in one hand while she holds a candle in the other. Cold air seeps through her socked feet and makes her shiver with each step. She should have worn shoes.

Hyemi had thought long and hard about where she wanted to go, until she remembered the room Kyungsoo and Chanyeol had taken her to. The thought of that room leaves an awful dreadful feeling at the pit of her stomach and she wants to know why. Maybe she is too nosy.

The map takes her there without a hitch, in fact, she finds herself standing in front of the plain wooden door and glinting doorknob much more quickly than she expected. Her hand hovers over the doorknob before she finally reaches down to touch it. It’s not locked, the door creaking on its hinges as she pushes it open. The door knocks softly against the wall as she throws it open completely.

The room is stuffy, dust swimming in the dim light emanating from the candle in her hand. Hyemi stumbles over to the bedside table, her hand fumbling for the lamp. Soft light fills the room and Hyemi’s gaze falls onto the table in the corner and the faded green stationary paper and pencils. Hyemi closes her eyes, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and when she opens her eyes she sees a hazy image of a boy.

He turns to her, his dark eyes smiling up at her, and Hyemi gasps, falling back into the bed. It’s a younger version of Kris. His robes are too big for him and he keeps rolling them up to his elbows, talking animatedly as he plays with the red stationary. His smiles are so wide, so happy, Hyemi can’t believe it.

Hyemi turns away and hears the soft creaking of a bed, the tiniest of whimpers and muffled voices filling the room. The room is suddenly incredibly dark and when Hyemi glances back at the desk, Kris is gone, the green stationary scattered all over the table. Her eyes trail along the floor, articles of clothing crumpled all along the floor every few feet. The wooden chair is overturned right in front of the door. There’s glass on the floor, shards of glass glinting at the foot of the bed.

The whimpers get louder and the voice begins to plead, closer to hopeless begging than anything else. Another deep voice intertwines with the first one, growling out indecipherable words that make Hyemi shiver. When Hyemi turns in her seat, blinking rapidly, she sees nothing but soft pink sheets covered in dust, brightened by lights. The sounds, the things on the floor, are all gone. She’s in the room alone, dust dancing all around her.

Her eyes fall on the set of frosted glass doors next to the desk, dread filling her chest at the sight.

Without intending to, Hyemi slips off the bed and steps towards it. Her vision starts to twist and turn and flicker. She sees shapes beyond the frosted glass, shadows of people. Someone’s back is pressed against the door before it disappears. Steam floats out from the crack beneath the doors, shadows dancing behind the opaque glass. Then she sees a hand slam against the door, the dark shape of it prominent, despite the fact that the door is barely transparent.

The hand curls into a fist and slams against the glass. Once, twice, three times. And then the fist loosens, fingers splayed out as it slowly slips down the door. Hyemi watches, barely breathing, as the fingers twitch, grasping, as it slips down the frosted glass before disappearing.

And then she hears chuckling, voice low and throaty.

Her heart bursts as one of the doors tilts open, door slightly ajar. Hyemi falls to her knees, clutching them to her chest, when a slender hand claws its way out of the room and clasps onto the side of the door, steam billowing out, and the sound of water running drowning out all other noises. Then another, much larger, hand lands on top of the slender one and slowly pries each finger off the side of the door. The larger hand curls around the smaller one, large fingers threading through small, limp ones, before both hands are tugged back into the room, the frosted glass door slamming shut behind them.

Darkness makes way for bright sunlight and Hyemi blinks rapidly at the sudden onslaught of light. There’s a scrape of a chair and Hyemi looks up, watching as Kris, still barely a boy, tugs the wooden chair aside and hops up in to it, grinning beautifully at something beyond Hyemi.

Hyemi looks behind her and her mother sits cross-legged on her bed, sunlight pouring through from behind her. She looks extremely fragile and tiny sitting in a bed so big. She looks thin, the fire in her eyes dimmed to barely a spark. She looks sad, the same way Hyemi did every time she would look in the mirror, that first year after Baekhyun had disappeared.

Kris speaks animatedly, legs dangling from the chair as he swings his hands. Hyemi’s mother smiles softly, listening to his words. Hyemi can’t hear their conversation so she just clutches her knees to her chest and watches, unable to control how her visions will go.

She closes her eyes and when she opens them again, she feels a presence watching her. Hyemi turns to look up at the door and Baekhyun is leaning against the door frame, eyes unreadable as he stares at her curled up form.

“I should have known you’d come here.” Baekhyun sighs, sounding tired.

Hyemi frowns, looking around, her eyes drifting from the blue stationary stacked neatly on the desk to the soft pink bed to the frosted glass doors right in front of her. She stares at the doors and Baekhyun sighs again. There’s an edge to his voice she doesn’t like.

“You look overwhelmed.” Baekhyun murmurs and she vaguely registers him pushing off the door frame and stepping towards her. He crouches at her side, a hand wiping at her wet cheeks. She didn’t even realize she had been crying.

She nods. “My mother used to…” Hyemi wants to say lived but she realizes that’s not a good way to put it. Her mother wasn't living. “Be confined here.” She finishes, still staring at the doors.

Baekhyun’s eyes flicker from the frosted doors to her face and he frowns. “You’re seeing things, aren’t you?”

Hyemi just nods, a little sullenly. “Too much.” She mumbles.

Then Baekhyun kneels at her side and pulls her head into his chest. She unconsciously wraps her hands around his waist, clinging to him, and he sighs against the top of her head. “Come on.” Baekhyun easily pulls her to her feet and she clutches the map to her chest as she rests against him, her eyes never leaving the frosted glass doors. She feels drawn to that room, but she knows she won’t like what she sees in there. “This place isn’t good for you.” Baekhyun slowly tugs her out of the room, his hand tracing slow circles into her back. “Sometimes some memories are best left in the past.”

When he firmly shuts the wooden door behind him, the gold and crystal doorknob glinting, Hyemi wonders if Baekhyun is right. Hyemi wonders if it’s truly necessary for her to know more of her mother’s past then she already does. There was a reason why her mother never showed her this place when she had bombarded Hyemi’s with her entire life story so long ago.

Hyemi’s fingers curl into the hem of Baekhyun’s black shirt and the smooth circles Baekhyun’s drawing into her back suddenly stutter. “I want to see the King.” Hyemi says.

“You’ll have to talk to Kris about that.” Baekhyun tells her, even as he brushes her hair out of her face and adjusts her in his arms, frowning to himself. His hair is a mess, as if he’s just woken up from a nap, and she feels bad for making him worry. She gets this ridiculous urge to kiss him, especially when she notices him pout cutely, pink lips jutting out. Baekhyun’s smirk and pointed words break her out of her silent reverie of him. “Do you like what you see?”

“Shut up.” She mumbles, embarrassed, and he laughs, infectious enough to make her snort out a soft giggle, too.

She closes her eyes and when she opens them, she notices a young boy walking beside Baekhyun and Hyemi. Kris looks a little older than before, as he twirls a basketball in his hands. He bounces the ball to a certain rhythm, a strangely sad smile on his face.

Another boy materializes beside him, his kind smile familiar to Hyemi. He’s dressed impeccably, especially for a young boy, his school uniform perfectly pressed and tucked, which is the opposite of how Kris is dressed. She recognizes him as Suho and she remembers how Baekhyun had mentioned that Suho and Kris used to be friends. “We’ll be alright, Kris.” Suho speaks reassuringly, his voice echoing. “We’ll all pass the exams and train together. Your mom would have been proud of you.”

Kris shakes his head, accidentally dropping the basketball. It bounces down the hall, dull thuds echoing, and Kris doesn’t go after it. Suho looks confused as he throws Kris a sidelong glance. “You’re wrong.” Kris looks visibly upset and Suho reaches for him, concern etched across his face. “You’re wr—”

The castle alarms cut him off, bouncing up and down the halls, reverberating loudly. Suho jumps, glancing around in panic, and Kris blinks, startled. They share a glance before running off down the hall and—

“Hyemi.” Hyemi blinks, turning away from her right as she looks up at Baekhyun.

“Hmm?” She hums, frowning. This castle is bad for her, she realizes, there are too many memories and ghosts here.

“You zoned out for a while there.” Baekhyun says, gently, as he nudges a door open. She didn’t even realize Baekhyun was already stepping into her room. Hyemi eyes Baekhyun’s navy blue shirt and wonders why it looks slightly different than before. Only then does she realize she’s standing at her door and staring at Baekhyun, who’s standing near her bedside table. His eyes are on her, searching her face, and she wonders how exhausted she looks. She stands timidly at her doorway, her hand still grasping the doorknob as Baekhyun seats himself down on Hyemi’s bed. He stares at her with a cautious gaze. “Hye, are you okay?”

Slowly, Hyemi just nods. She glances at her bed and a hazy image of a younger boy lounging around with a wide smile floods her vision. This time it’s not Kris, this time it’s Baekhyun. She shakes her head, rapidly, and when she opens her eyes again, the younger version of Baekhyun is gone. “I’m fine.” She mumbles, when she realizes Baekhyun wants her to respond verbally. Baekhyun doesn’t look convinced, watching her carefully.

Hyemi looks over at the desk and sees the younger version of Chanyeol hanging off the chair, making faces across the room. Kyungsoo’s younger self smacks Chanyeol across the head and the boy flails off the chair, a younger Zitao and Sehun snickering from where they're seated against the wall. Hyemi quickly squeezes her eyes shut.

When she opens them again, there’s a sleek black casket in the middle of the room. Hydrangeas and daisies protrude from each corner, a familiar symbol etched into the top of the casket. She turns her head and familiar faces are crying. It’s raining. Black umbrellas bloom like flowers. A younger Jongdae is on his knees, a hand intertwined tightly in Yixing’s, as he sobs into his knees, Yixing holding his head. It’s raining. Chanyeol stands in the rain, refusing an umbrella as he gets drenched. The sky is crying and so are all eleven figures surrounding the casket. Hyemi doesn’t get to search each face, her vision blurring with her own tears, until all she sees is black.

When she opens her eyes, she’s staring across the room at Baekhyun, who sits at her bed and watches her patiently. He holds out his arms and his warm voice creates butterflies at the very pit of her stomach. “Come to bed, Hyemi.”

She curls up in his arms, snuggling close to his soft black t-shirt, before she speaks. “This castle is full of too many ghosts.”

Baekhyun just smiles, a sad look in his eyes. “This planet is full of too many ghosts. We’ve seen too much death.”

“I’m sorry.” Hyemi tells him, sincerely. Baekhyun just shakes his head and buries his face into the crook of her neck. She stills at the sudden contact before slowly relaxing around him. She threads fingers through his hair and he holds her hand, fingers warm.

“It’s not your fault.”

Hyemi wonders why that statement doesn’t resonate as the truth to her anymore.

~.~.~.~.~

Kris practically slams down her door the next morning and she blinks up at him, frowning groggily. Baekhyun’s curled up around her, his legs tangled in hers and his arms wrapped around her. He doesn’t even budge from the sudden noise.

Hyemi glances up from where her cheek is squished against Baekhyun’s chest and rubs her eyes.

Kris looks annoyed, rolling his eyes at her. “Get up.”

“Why?” She asks, sleepily, frowning as her fingers dig into Baekhyun’s soft sides.

“The Oracle's figured out a set date and she said she wouldn’t tell me unless she gets to meet you first.” Kris is clearly angry about the fact that this Oracle person is capable of ordering him around and Hyemi can’t help but giggle sleepily against Baekhyun’s chest.

Baekhyun stirs in his sleep before he speaks, without opening his eyes. “I can’t believe she’s still got you wrapped around her little finger.” Baekhyun’s fingers play with Hyemi’s hair.

“ off, Byun.” Kris says, wholeheartedly. Baekhyun snorts and Hyemi places her chin on Baekhyun’s chest as she peers up at Kris. Kris turns to Hyemi. “Hurry up.”

“You could have knocked.” Hyemi says, enjoying Kris’s ever-growing annoyed expression. She yawns and Kris looks furious.

“I don’t need to knock in my own house.” Kris retorts, crossing his arms.

Hyemi just rolls her eyes, stretching as she sits up, her eyes locking with Baekhyun. He eyes her with interest, his eyes flickering up and down her stretching form, and she blushes at the attention. She turns back to Kris and speaks, waving her hand. “Relax. I’m not missing the chance to meet someone who can order The Mighty Prince Kris around.”

Baekhyun snorts. Kris scowls. Hyemi smiles serenely.

“You’re worse than Byun.” Kris mumbles, glaring at her sarcasm. He promptly turns on his heels and sits down, waiting at her chair with a permanent scowl etched across his face. Hyemi can’t help but laugh at him, which only makes his scowl deepen.

Baekhyun laughs too, his hands fluttering down her sides unconsciously, and Hyemi feels strangely content, even as her cheeks slowly redden at the unconscious contact. Her skin tingles at the touch and she tries her best to ignore that fact.

a/n: If anybody's confused just let me know below and I'll clear it up, but basically she's seeing visions everywhere she looks! I've /finally/ figured out exactly how I want to end this and oh boy I'm excited okay. I'm almost done with my other multichap and then I can focus on this and update more quickly (I;m so sorry for being so slow ;_; )! The ending is going to be....very interesting. Remember to pay attention to details that's all I can say! *evil laughter*

1) Sungyeol fit the king the best because he really does look like Kris when he smiles it's so weird?? And I didn't want to make another OC welp but also I know nothing about Sungyeol's real personality so he'll probably be very out of character here.

2) Yeonma (Korean) / Yan Wang (Chinese) are really names for the God of Death, I'm researching Asian (East and South) mythology for this fic and it's so cool tbh 

Thank you so much to everyone for subscribing and commenting please rememeber to leave a comment down below I love readin and responding to comments! 

<3