Kero didn't come back the next day. He tried calling for her, using a whistle they had made together for when he wanted to see her. He couldn't call her with his mind, as they needed to be bonded for it to go both ways and Kero wasn't old enough to be bonded yet. It wouldn't be long though.

So now it was a school day and Mark had to sit through four hours of dreary classes in reading and writing that he had already perfected. He had asked his parents to be taken out of school several times already, but they thought that he needed to be around human beings as well. The fact that he spent time with them and they were human beings was a lost argument. Apparently he needs friends of his own kind on his own age.

In the end, he ended up sitting on the bench next to someone who'd much rather sit somewhere else, dreaming himself away. He had tried making friends with his classmates in the beginning, but found they didn't have much time for someone who didn't know how to talk faster than a horse could run. Sure the smith's daughter was nice enough when they talked, but that was because her parents were friends with his parents. He had heard them talk with each other and ask Sooyoung to try to befriend him. He didn't want that. He had enough in Kero as it was. She was his best friend.

Him and Kero had grown up together. Kero's Papa, Arawn, and his Mama were bonded. So when both him and Kero were a mere few months old, they had met for the first time. He couldn't remember it, but he had been told Kero had made him laugh by sneezing fire.

“Mark! Pay attention,” the harsh voice of his teacher snapped him back to reality. His teacher was glaring at him from the front of the room with his arms crossed. Behind him a line stood written with a few words underlined. “You may think you know everything, but that doesn't mean you do,” he continued, making a few snickers sound from different people in the classroom. Mark could feel his face warm up. He hated being the center of attention like this. Soaring above the clouds on Kero's back, away from people's eyes was more his thing.

“Sorry, sir,” he apologized quietly.

“Pay attention,” his teacher repeated and Mark nodded hurriedly. The teacher then took the attention back on himself and Mark felt like he could breathe properly again. He hated going to school. It was lonely, it was tiring and a waste of time. Practicing with Kero or his Mama was much more productive and helpful. Even helping his own Papa in the field was better than this. Turning his head, he looked out the window on his right at the sky. He wondered where Kero was and why she hadn't come back yet. Before he was caught daydreaming again, he turned his eyes back to the front of the room. He would call on her again after school. He was lonely without her.

Quietly, Yongguk opened the latch, thanking that the hinges had been recently oiled. No one besides the keeper of this door to the underground was supposed to know it was there. And as it was used at seldom, the keeper had informed him there was a homeless sleeping close by every night.

Spotting the said homeless on the ground not too far from there, Yongguk kept his eyes on the boy as he crept out. As silently as possible, he closed the latch behind him and then straightened up. His eyes returned to the boy on the ground. His hair was blonde. That was odd. He must be a foreigner as no one here had that shade of hair. Going closer, he made out the boys features in the early morning light. He was thin, but surprisingly nurtured for a homeless. Studying the sleeping figure further, he deduced that the boy was around his age, so not as much a boy anymore. He looked like it though, with his smooth skin and peaceful features.

The boy moved slightly, his nose scrunching up shortly in a sniff. Yongguk needed to get out on the streets soon. He had stuff to do. But for some reason he went closer to the sleeping boy. Crouching down, he sat on his heels and just looked. Scanning the others features as the sky slowly lightened. He had a strange sensation that he needed to touch the other. So slowly he reached out to touch the others face. The air grew hotter as he came closer to the boy and he drew his hand back for a moment. Magic. With that in mind, he reached out to touch the sleeping blonde.

Suddenly the door behind him opened and Yongguk flew to his feet, turning at the same time. It was the keeper. The baker who watched the entrance to the tunnels. He had a piece of burnt bread and cheese in his hands.

Lifting one of his fingers to his lips, he motioned for the other to be quiet. The round baker went over to him with quiet steps and stopped up next to him.

“Do you know his name?” Yongguk asked in a whisper, pointing at the boy on the ground.

“Himchan,” the baker answered quietly. Nodding, Yongguk looked down upon the said person. Himchan. That wasn't a foreign name.

“What else do you know about him?” he asked interested, still keeping his voice down.

“People around here call him Looney Chan after an episode where he claimed the sun was his father,” the other told him. Yongguk had heard about Looney Chan in the underworld. Mostly as a reference when people thought you had gone mad. “He seems sane to me though. Otherwise I wouldn't let him sleep here.”

“He knows magic,” Yongguk said to himself and saw the baker nod out of the corner of his eye.

“Nothing much as far I've been told. He made a few things explode once when the kids taunted him, but that's all I've seen from it.”

“He could be useful.”

“I wouldn't count on it.”

“Why not?”

“He likes to keep to himself,” the baker answered.

“Exactly why he could be useful. And anyone can be bought with the right payment,” Yongguk mumbled. The baker didn't say anything to this. “I must be on my way. Thank you for oiling the hinges on the latch,” he thanked the other, who nodded in reply, before Yongguk was over the fence and on his way down the streets. He had wasted time looking at Himchan, but maybe the boy could be useful. He would have to approach the other sometime soon. Carefully, so he wouldn't scare the boy without company away. But first he needed more information. Find out if he had already been hired and what he was capable of.

He was being followed. The shiver of the same presence watching him had been tickling the back of his mind for a while now. Stepping into the shadow of a house, he closed his eyes and quested for the intentions of his follower.

The follower simply wanted to follow and observe from what he could read. He was also from the Curare, seeing as his orders had come from Kangin himself. Opening his eyes again, Himchan stepped out from the shadow and made his way to the middle of the road. From there he started weaving his way through the stream of people while keeping his mind focused on the follower's. Using a trickle of magic he messed with the others senses. The picture of him going the other way in the follower's eyes while he ducked down to hide behind a couple of women and he was free. Making sure that the man wouldn't figure out his trick, he kept creating images of himself walking some place else in his mind, until they were a couple of blocks from each other.

With that, he sped up, no longer having to concentrate his mind. Turning down an alley where there were fewer people he took a detour towards his destination. Just in case others should be following him, he zigzagged through the city.

When he reached the building that was his destination, he sat down in the shadow of it and let his mind wander. Slowly he searched around him, skimming each mind he crossed. He read their intentions, their thoughts that were said loudly in their minds. That was all he could read, the deeper caves out of his reach. As they should be. If whole minds were accessible to humans, they'd be able to change the fabric of a person's personality. That was what his father had told him in one of their few conversations.

Finding that his thoughts had wandered, he went back to the task at hand. Every person on the street had their mind read. None of them seemed to be from the thieves guilds, but he knew that half of them had probably had dealings with one of the guilds. It was normal in this city.

The Queen and the guard didn't rule this city, try as they might. The four guilds did. He knew about them. Knew about their territories and their tunnels underneath the city. He knew that their influence stretched to other cities in the country and that you had to be careful with stepping on their feet. Jongup's father had deals with them. With the Datura. Himchan himself steered clear of them. He knew what it would mean for a homeless to start dealing with them. Homeless people weren't missed. They could disappear without anyone noticing and were treated as such. He had seen it happen. It was basically the same with the poor that did have a place to live. The recent killings were proof of that. The guard didn't really care and didn't investigate properly. No one knew who was behind them.

“Himchan,” a familiar voice interrupted his mind skimming. Opening his eyes, he found his brother standing in front of him with a little smile on his lips. His clothes were dirty and so was his face. Sweat gleamed on his forehead. Himchan smiled back and stood up.

“Done already?” he asked as he dusted off his dirty clothes.

“I got off early,” Jongup answered before frowning, looking up and down him. “You need a bath. And clean clothes.”

“Jongup,” Himchan started. “I can't change my clothes and the water is getting colder. I'll be sick.”

“Then go at night. You know,” his brother paused and lowered his voice. “Magic.” He stayed quiet for a little while, looking at the concern in the other's eyes.

“I'll take a bath this night, ok?” Himchan finally gave in. His brother nodded, a little smile appearing on his lips again.

“Good,” he nodded and started walking, Himchan following.

“How was work?”

“Easy. Tonight is the festival and we're ahead of schedule for once.”

“Which festival?”

Jongup stopped to look at him with curious eyes.

“You don't know?” his brother asked. Himchan considered skimming the nearest mind for the answer, but decided against it, shaking his head instead. “It's the festival of the Moon.”

“Oh,” he internally cursed himself for his forgetfulness. He should have known that. The city held four festivals each year. One for the Moon, one for the Sun, one for the Fool and one for the Dragons. Or at least it used to be for the Dragons. Now it was to celebrate the banishment of the Dragons, where people once worshiped them as sons and daughters of the Sun and Moon.

“You always forget,” Jongup laughed and Himchan smiled sheepishly. He did always forget. Somehow, despite being able to read minds.

“I'll wait with the bath then. People will be up all night,” he told the other, who nodded after a second of thought.

“Just be careful. With the murders lately and all. I don't want to lose you,” Jongup said with concern in his eyes once more.

“I can take care of myself. It's you who has to be careful,” Himchan replied.

“But I have you to take care of me,” Jongup smiled.

A door opening brought Jackson out of his sleep. Nausea hit him immediately and he almost threw up. His stomach contents remained put though and he looked up at the door to find AJ standing there with a bright grin on his face. Groaning, he let his head fall back onto his pillow.

“Your happy face isn't welcome here in the pits of hell,” he told his friend.

“Get over it. You're showing signs of recovery according to the healers,” the other waved him off, still smiling, and came over to sit on the chair next to the bed.

“Be quiet or I'm going to vomit all over you,” Jackson threatened him.

“But then I can't tell you the good news,” AJ smiled. “And I have news that will brighten your day, jerk.”

“Tell me then,” he sighed.

“Hana asked me on a study date. She needs help in potions,” his friend told him happily. Jackson just blinked lazily.

“That's your happy news?” he asked.

“Yeah, and now you're supposed be happy for me, dumb,” AJ frowned and hit him on the arm.

“Come back tomorrow, happiness does not exist in hell,” Jackson replied and closed his eyes.

“Drama queen,” his so called friend told him.

“ off or pity me in my pain.”

“I stand by my previous statement.”

“I will vomit on everything you love.”

“You're awfully nice when you're sick.”

Jackson opened his eyes and gave the other a death glare.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” AJ waved him off. “Anyways, I have a few assignments for you with me and I'm to remind you that your exams begin in a week.”

“As if I could forget,” Jackson groaned. He had tried to study a little before going to sleep, but had had to stop because of his stomach contents' ability to travel back up his throat.

“Now, now, where did ever happy Jackson go?” his friend (tutted).

“He never existed,” he replied dully.

“Am I to remind you that just two days ago, you were smiling, telling bad jokes and insulting me?”

“It's all a facade,” he told the other. AJ laughed.

“So you've told me. But you enjoy it, I know it,” he replied with a smile. Jackson sighed.

“You're a head.”

“Well at least I don't have a face. The ladies love me,” AJ joked with a wide smile.

Jackson started laughing.

“That's insulting that you're laughing right now,” his friend jutted out his lower lip in a horrid try to pout cutely. He laughed harder.

“Alright, laugh at your best friend's expense, totally fine. Dickhead,” the other mumbled out the last word. Jackson kept on laughing until he felt something move in his stomach.

“Bucket,” he requested, suddenly feeling very ill. In less than a second, AJ had a bucket up next to his bed and Jackson emptied his stomach's contents once again.

I apologize for being as forgetful as I am. I've had this chapter written for a while now (months), and I forgot to update. I am truly sorry.

hopefully I'll get better at updating...

Peace out (^_^)v