After another long day in training, Jongin was left gritting his teeth in frustration. He should have been one of the first in his team to be empowered; he was a born soldier, after all. He was among the strongest and smartest men the Archangel had, but over half of their team had already tapped into some kind of natural energy, and still he remained as part of the minority. Even Kyungsoo had surprised them all. How had a boy like Kyungsoo surpassed him in training? The oaf wasn’t even supposed to be a member of the Archangel’s guard. He used to be nothing more than a page boy for the royal family; he had no other qualifications. Sure, people regarded a role like that with dignity of its own respect, but Jongin saw otherwise. Jongin had earned his uniform through skill and hard work. Kyungsoo was simply chosen by the Ancients, and nobody understood why until he had finally harnessed his inner power: earth.

    It hardly made sense, what with how clumsy the boy was on his feet. The ground seemed his enemy half the time, but now he could control it. Somewhat. He could control it, just not very well. But what bothered Jongin the most wasn’t that he felt cheated of his rightful prestige; it was that there was good reason for it. Kyungsoo’s powers would potentially grow to be the strongest of all the elements. With the right amount of discipline and practice, someone like Kyungsoo would be able to single handedly bring an entire realm to its knees. He might not have been anywhere near this capability as of yet, but his potential was greater than any other’s. That was what bothered Jongin so deeply. He envied the sheer power Kyungsoo possessed within him, the renown his name would someday hold.

    A likely candidate for a close second in terms of power was Chanyeol, though his element of fire was a destructive one. Having almost as little control over it so far as Kyungsoo did over the earth, Chanyeol’s power was more likely to bring his name infamy than admiration. He was getting better at manipulating flames—creating them even—each and every day, but things with Chanyeol tended to get out of control very quickly and unexpectedly. The tides of his energy were bound tightly to his emotions and, like fire, his attention rarely stayed contained to one place or thing. He was easily distracted, and it was in these moments of diversion that he would lose control. Intangible things—like fire, and like the Ancients’ magic—were often dangerous to toy with, but if Chanyeol could manage not to burn himself or the rest of the Divine realm to ashes before his training was complete, he just might serve a valuable part in saving it after all.

    Sehun, on the other hand, seemed unshakable when it came to concentration. He had come to master the element of air so quickly that he had left the Ancients astounded by his skill. The winds were his servants; they listened to his every command. Every move he made was deliberate; his control was so absolute that he could lift a feather from a table without stirring the dust around it. He may not have been very strong yet, but his precision could not be rivalled.

    Joonmyun was growing stronger each day. The first to be awoken, somewhat by accident really, he was the angel that gave the Ancients hope that there would be others with potential such as his—potential to harness the primordial energy that they utilized, but in a whole new way. His element was water, and though he had started out only being able to manipulate thin streams out of puddles or goblets, he was now able to create his own. He had flooded the entire training arena once—an event that was also somewhat by accident, but still one that he would proudly recall.

    “You did well today, Jongin,” Joonmyun said to the brooding younger man after their training session that day.

    Jongin scoffed. “Please don’t patronize me.”

    “I’m serious,” Joonmyun insisted, “I have high hopes for you yet. You’ve always been one of the most well disciplined soldiers I’ve had the pleasure of working with.”

    “Fat amount of good that’s done me,” Jongin retorted in exasperation, “You’ve all tapped into the Ancients’ energy by now, and I haven’t.”

    Only he and Baekhyun remained, though to be frank he hadn’t been surprised about Baekhyun’s slow progress. Baekhyun had been a squire, so he would have joined the Archangel’s guard someday anyways, though he was somewhat of a frail boy, not cut out to be a soldier in Jongin's opinion but nice enough to have around that Jongin didn’t mind. He had a feeling that the guardians—the Archangel’s main squadron of soldiers that guarded the palace and patrolled the realm on day to day duties—had only taken the boy under their wings for that same reason.

    Jongin, Joonmyun, and Sehun were the only members of this new brigade that had already been part of the Archangel’s personal guard before the Ancients had come across this grand idea of choosing apprentices to train. Joonmyun had been the exemplary prototype student, Sehun had reaffirmed the Ancients’ faith that this training regimen would succeed, but Jongin still had no progress to show.

    Chanyeol had been tasked with the simple chore of extinguishing the meditation candles that day; there was more than two hundred of the things lining the walls of the silent chamber, and his manipulation of fire was a much faster method than extinguishing them by hand. Sometimes Sehun would do it, but Chanyeol was in greater need of practicing his precision. Baekhyun stayed back with him, as he so often did. He enjoyed watching the candles burn, the way the flames glowed and flickered and danced in the darkness until their light existed no more. He always came through on his share of cleaning up afterwards, so the other didn’t mind; he was nice enough to have around, after all.

    The rest of the brigade had travelled down the hall to the arena where the practical side of their training took place—combat. True, fighting was against angel morals, but their training consisted of utilizing their powers to merely overpower their opponents, not necessarily hurt them. Any physical combat they did partake in was highly defensive and meant to protect, not to harm. The young prodigies had just begun sweeping up the arena floor for the evening when chaos broke out from the silent chamber.

    They didn’t even have to travel down the hallway to see the wildfire already lapping against the archway into the chamber and quickly spreading. The walls would not burn as they were made of stone, just as the rest of the palace was, but of course this wasn’t any old fire. It was Chanyeol’s; he had lost control once again.

    Joonmyun and Sehun went quickly to work. Sehun stifled the air so the fire could not breath, while Joonmyun doused the flames with water that cooled the stone surface. The flames shrunk back into the chamber and eventually disappeared, and all that remained was a room of melted wax with Chanyeol and Baekhyun crouched to the floor, minor burns covering their forearms that sheltered their faces from the vanished heat. Their burns were already healing as Sehun cleared the smoke.

    “Are you two okay?” Joonmyun asked. The wellbeing of his team was first priority. Explanations could come later.

    Chanyeol nodded uncertainly; Baekhyun was shaking. “I’m sorry,” they both said at once.

    Chanyeol wiped the soot and sweat from his face. “I shouldn’t have panicked—”

    “It was my fault,” Baekhyun interjected.

    “—just I couldn’t see a thing. One second I see Baekhyun and the candles in front of me; the next, nothing.”

    The ruckus had drawn the attention of the Ancients, and one entered the chamber now, surveying Baekhyun with a curious expression.

    “I didn’t mean to… I mean… I didn’t know what I was doing, I just—”

    The cloak-clad angel silenced him with a raised hand, which he then closed around the talisman hanging from Baekhyun’s neck. Each of them had a similar looking pendant, though they bore different symbols representing their elements. Only Baekhyun and Jongin's were still blank; or rather, only Jongin's was still blank. Baekhyun’s now had a new symbol inscribed upon its surface; a 16 point star.

    The other Ancients had gathered inside the doorway to the chamber, and the one standing in front of Baekhyun turned to them. “Light,” he announced, and Baekhyun stared back in disbelief. It had happened; he had been empowered.

    Without another word, as they were known to be beings of few, the Ancients left. With his face still covered with black smudges from the smoke, Chanyeol beamed at his friend proudly. Joonmyun clapped his hand on his back, startling the boy that still stood in shock, and turned to the rest of his men.

    “Tonight we celebrate, boys,” he grinned, “Congratulations, Baekhyun, on officially joining our ranks.”

. : .

    Haneul found herself wandering the citadel late into the evening. Youngjae wasn’t coming to the library very often these days for his usual studies, and flipping through  dusty old books by herself just wasn’t quite as fun. It wasn’t just Youngjae, either. Everyone seemed to be so busy these days, but Haneul felt increasingly out of the loop about it all.

    Even at this time of night, the corridors were filled with delicious aromas—roasted nuts, rich stone fruit cobbler, fine spices and warm, freshly baked loaves. Someone must have been having a feast in the great hall.

    Other than the moonlight that a nearly full Aos sent in through the tower’s archways, the hallways were only dimly lit with flickering candles just bright enough to lead one’s way. As she travelled through these halls, Haneul was overcome by the feeling that she was not alone. In a palace bustling with people, this wasn’t such a strange or uncommon feeling, but for the first time, Haneul was oddly unsettled by it.

    She filled her thoughts instead with lovely flavours. She hadn’t been in the mood for supper when the palace chefs had first offered, but now she was beginning to change her mind. Certainly she didn’t want to intrude upon whoever’s feast was taking place, but no one would mind if she made appearance. Quite the opposite, they would be elated to have the Archangel’s daughter join the festivities. Perhaps she would graciously accept just one buttered roll, filled with sweet jam and honey.

    As much as she had tried to concentrate on only these pleasant thoughts, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she noticed somebody standing in the shadows of an archway ahead of her.

    “Jongin,” she breathed out in relief as she recognized him even in silhouette, “What are you doing out here?”

    He glanced her way and offered a small smile, his eyes uncharacteristically void of his usual fervour.

    “Just getting some air. I wasn’t feeling very hungry,” he tilted his head towards the dining hall.

    “Ah, so it’s your feast that’s going on. Guess I wouldn’t feel quite so bad inviting myself, then,” Haneul laughed lightly, “I haven’t eaten either.”

    She slipped her hand into his to continue their conversation in silence, and she immediately understood why Jongin seemed so off. The brigade is celebrating, his inner voice told her, Baekhyun has joined them. The rest of the thoughts he conveyed weren’t so much coherent sentences as they were emotions and ideas. Words like ‘failure’ and ‘disappointment’ bubbled to the surface of his consciousness like tar floating on a shoreline.

    I believe in you, Haneul squeezed his hand ever so slightly, Even my father believes in you. Just have patience; the future holds so much.

    Jongin's immediate response was one of appreciation. Haneul’s friendship and support was something he never took for granted, but it was in low times like these that he was reminded of how important she was to him.

    He gently lifted her hand to his lips, placing a kiss upon the delicate surface of her skin. "We will marry someday," he said out loud, smiling at her more warmly and naturally than before, "Your father approves of it."

    Haneul nodded. She knew how much her father already viewed Jongin as the son he never had, as an honourable man that could someday fill his shoes. She could decline the arrangement if she so wished, but marriage was still something t0 which she had never given much serious thought.

    Jongin her hand with his thumb, slowly moving closer to her. His warm breath tickled her cheek, and she wondered what it would be like having Jongin by her side for the rest of her life. She wondered if she would be okay with that. As she met his eyes, his dark blue orbs that were as vast and as deep as the ocean itself, she wondered how easy it would be to get lost in them. His eyes then shifted to her lips, and through their clasped hands his intentions to kiss her were clear—but so was Haneul's hesitation.

    "Shall I wait for that day, then?" he asked, meeting her eyes once again, and this time Haneul was the one to give him a small smile.

    "Perhaps you should."

    Jongin took no offence by her declination of his affection. He still knew that, in one way or another, Haneul cared deeply about him as well, and that was everything he could ask for.

    “I want you to have something,” he said as his hand disappeared into his pocket momentarily, “During meditation, we are instructed to concentrate our energy into these stone talismans. The Ancients gave me an extra one. I still don’t know what my element will be—I’m not drawn to any one thing like the others were—but these pendants started doing something interesting today.”

    With Haneul’s permission, he hung the pendant from her neck, a childish excitement growing in his eyes as he took a step back.

    They sing to each other, no matter how far apart they may be, Jongin said, or rather, Jongin thought. Even though there was no longer any contact between he and Haneul, she could hear his thoughts. And then she realized, it was coming from the stone now resting against her chest. Jongin pulled an identical talisman out from under his tunic, and as soon as it was no longer touching his skin, his thoughts vanished from Haneul’s mind.

    “Amazing, isn’t it?” he grinned, and Haneul nodded enthusiastically.

    Further into the shadows, another pair of eyes had stopped to observe, having recognized the girl that almost caught him in the library. The two angels went on unaware of Myungsoo’s presence.

    “How about we join in on this feast,” he heard the male angel say, “What’s a celebration without Cheonguk Ddal's presence?”

    Myungsoo blinked in realization that it had been no ordinary girl that had noticed his blunder. He could have guessed from her beauty and fine etiquette that she was at least a noble, but he would never have suspected her to be the Archangel’s daughter. Not that it mattered, though; he wasn’t going to make a mistake like that again. He was nothing more than a shadow—a shadow of death that had somebody more important than a pretty young girl to follow.

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