[over 8,500 words at 12:30am, so yeah, I'm sorry for the typos and any kind of mistakes, I have an exam tomorrow, I gotta go study now so I'll proofread some toher time. Enjoy!]

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Cures

Years ago, Far East, Emerald Shores

“Zitao,” a voice whispered, waking the boy from his dream, “Zitao, it started. The hunting began.”

Zitao, a tall, blond boy, sat up on his bed, and looked outside. The morning sun was rising on the horizon, the first rays shooting inside through the glass. A sea was spreading in front of the boy’s eyes, as his house was situated on a hill, right next to a high cliff. He smiled to himself, upon hearing the loud squeaks of gulls. He moved to open the window, and the room filled with a strong smell of sea salt. He inhaled, dreaming of freezing this scene in time.

“Zitao –“

“Don’t worry, Baekhyun. We still have time, before they find us,” he turned to face his friend, smiling at him softly.

“I’m worried. I don’t wanna die, Tao.”

“None of us want. But don’t worry. Don’t worry my friend.”

He stood up, and after stretching, he stepped outside the house. The cold wind of the early morning hit his face, the coldness of the ground embraced his bare feet. The two boys sat on the edge of the cliff, and looked into the distance. Zitao was enjoying the calmness of the moment, until he heard his friend mumble something.

“What are you doing, Baekhyun?” he asked, not really showing any signs of curiosity.

“Lightning strikes twice and it burns like ice,” he said out loud, “what does it mean, Tao?”

“How am I supposed to know, my friend?” he chuckled.

“O Fortuna, Velut luna, Statu variabilis, Semper crescis, Aut decrescis, Vita detestabilis*,” a new voice joined them, and they both turned startled. An old lady was standing in the door, looking in the direction of a rising sun.

“Good morning, grandma,” Zitao greeted the woman, getting back to observing the flying gulls.

“Fueras*!” Baekhyun exclaimed, standing up and bowing deeply, “Fueras, what does it mean?” he asked, looking at the woman helplessly.

“It means you’re all gonna die,” she said, and sat next to her grandchild. Baekhyun gasped, falling to the ground.

“No,” he mumbled, “no. There needs to be a way –“

“Of course there is. There is always a way,” the woman interrupted him, “ah, isn’t today’s dawn beautiful?” she suggested, smiling and exhaling the air.

“You say that about every dawn, grandma,” Tao pointed out.

“Because it’s the last dawn I remember. It was truly beautiful.”

“Fueras!” Baekhyun exclaimed, “Fueras, I beg of you, help us!”

“My child, there is nothing I can do. No prophecy knows any mercy.”

“But you just said!”

“Grandma,” Zitao spoke softly, “why are we being hunted down?”

“It is a long story, my child. And a complicated one. Do you think such a beautiful day like today is a good day to be wasted on such stories? After all, it may be the last one.”

“Yes,” Zitao replied, “I think it can be.”

The woman smiled and closed her eyes.

“There are legends, there are stories. Many of them. They rule our world, that’s why we live so peacefully. We learn from them. But there, in the West*, behind the Bai Tian* Mountains, the world is different. The West is a dangerous place. They are barbarians, with their slaughtering kings and false gods. They are the root of all evil. They do not appreciate the art of storytelling like we do. But still, some stories from the West get to us. And there was one, that turned out to be a lost prophecy. Nowadays, we do not really find any of them, anymore. And when one night a dragon brought us the golden plaque, we were terrified. The Lost Prophecy. It was very hard to read it, the languages were the ones of the West and the North. None of us speaks those languages anymore. In addition, many words were blear. But these ones were untouched by time, as if something protected them – Lightning strikes twice and it burns like ice. We knew, that something terrible was going to happen. But we did not know what. And then, after many weeks and months, one of our scholars managed to translate it. The prophecy spoke of two people, one born on the darkest of nights, hit by two lightings; the other one born into the flames of ice –“

“Fueras,” Baekhyun whispered, “no one would be able to survive anything like that. And flames of ice? But ice cannot burn, can it? Flames are hot, like Chanyeol’s fire… fire melts ice,” he mumbled.

The old lady smiled down at him, and sighed, “oh Baekhyun, my dear little star. In this world, everything is possible. And in the North, even more. The ice masters are tricky creatures. One must always be cautious with the Northerner. Remember that,” she warned him, and the continued to tell the story, “we were shocked upon hearing that. Not because our hearts were clouded with worries as Baekhyun’s, but because those words spoke of magic. And magic left the Western lands centuries ago,” she whispered, and stopped talking for a moment, as if remembering something. She sighed, and continued, “your friend and you, Baekhyun, were the last ones born to the west that held any magical abilities,” she confessed, and both boys looked at her surprised.

“But I am an Easterner!” the boy exclaimed, terrified at the thought that any of them would be from the other side.

“You were both born on the other side of the mountains. Your father was the Great Guardian of Light, the head of the covenant from the North,” the old lady explained, “no one knows anything about your mother. No one knew why you were sent here, but after the prophecy… we started thinking that maybe your father wanted to protect you. He was a wise man, as all the Guardians are. He might have suspected that you would be put in a great danger one day.”

“What about Kyungsoo, then?”

“His parents were running away from the west. They lived in the Eastern woods, however, at that time the woods started being haunted by the Shadow tribes. Awful barbarians, they went down from the mountains and started plundering the villages.”

“Shadow tribes? Who were they?” Zitao asked, never having heard about them before.

“Oh, scary people,” the woman whispered, “they are said to have once been the Great Lord of the North, before the Kim dynasty took the throne from them. They were outcast to the Bai Tian Mountains, forbidden to ever come back. They became a legend, a story people of the North used to tell their children. The tribe fell into oblivion, becoming one with the mist ruling over the mountain tops. Sometimes, there were rumors about murders, or attacks on cities and villages that flourished on the mountain hills, and people claimed they saw only shadows. Shadows committing the crimes. The Northeners started whispering, and the rumor spread, that these were the gone Lord, who were thrown to the mountains. People started referring to them as Shadow tribes,” she explained.

“That prophecy,” Baekhyun mumbled, “about those two people… what happened to them?”

“Nothing. They still haven’t been born.”

“The Ravens,” Zitao voiced this thoughts, “have they learnt about the prophecy?”

“This is what the elders are thinking. The chances are that the king of the West knows about it, and wants to get rid of any magic left. This is one possibility.”

“And what is the other one?”

“That the Raves are to gather all the magical power in our lands for the West’s vain purposes. It is really hard to guess. These people think differently. All we know is that they know about the prophecy, which means you are in danger.”

“I don’t understand,” Baekhyun whined, and a tear rolled down his cheek. He was so confused.

The old lady smiled, and placed the child on her laps, “You see Baekhyun, it is never good when someone is to survive being smitten by a lightning, or burnt with an icy fire. Moreover, it is a really bad omen for the West,” she whispered, caressing the boy’s hair.

“Why?”

“Long time ago,” she started, “there were two great heroes. They were the most fearsome in all our lands. One was from the West, the other was from the North. These two kingdoms were always at war, from the beginning of time. As if a curse was put on them, for them to never be at peace. These two heroes were more than just brave, and fearsome. They possessed magical abilities. And they were the only ones in their kingdoms with such. It was long before magic took rule over our lands. One of them was the master of lightning, the other the master of frost. They were very different. The lightning master was very dark, stubborn, violent. They called him a Storm Bringer. Everyone was afraid of him. But the frost master was his contrast. Still a great hero, he was pure, just like snow,” the woman smiled, “he was innocent, kind, and friendly. They called him the Winter Boy. And once, the time of a great battle of the Bay of the Falling Stars came. The war was to end with the victory of one of these two – either the storm bringer, or the winter boy. But you see, Baekhyun, Fortuna works in very mysterious ways,” the woman smiled softly at the child, as if remembering the day of the battle; as if she was there, “the two warriors fell in love. Tragic. They changed each other. The Winter Boy found good in the Storm Bringer, and at the same time the other ignited a flame of rebellion in him. A will to live. But the terrible kings of both kingdoms did not approve of it. Of course they did not. They expected their heroes to kill the each other, not love. So they tricked them. They made the Storm Bringer prepare a poison, which they later gave to the Winter Boy. He died in the his lover’s arms. The Storm Bringer was so furious he put a course on the king of the West that was supposed to last until his spirit comes back for revenge. The king was so terrified, he ordered to have the man burnt on the stake. Apparently, you can still hear his screams in Aokigahara, cursing the king.”

Baekhyun gasped, and his eyes were wide, “this is terrible!”

“It is only a story,” the woman chuckled, “but it is rumored that before dying, the Winter Boy marked the Storm Bringer, so that their souls could find each other one day.”

“Is this why the kings of the West freaks out, now, and wants us all dead? He thinks the Storm Bringer is coming back for his revenge?” Zitao asked, closing his eyes from the strong light of the sun, that was already above the horizon.

“Yes.”

Everything happened so fast, Jongdae could not tell the truth from his imagination anymore. All he remembered and recognized was an immense pain in his chest, in the place were heart was supposed to be.

 

A day before, Eastern Woods

“Jongdae?” he heard his brother whisper echo through the cold inside of the wooden hut, “Jongdae, what happened?”

The prince was kneeling on the floor, with Xiumin’s dead body in his arms. He was looking at the boy’s beautiful, frozen in time face, and wondered. What was it about him that brought death to all he loved.

“He’s dead,” he whispered back, and brought his hand up to the dead boy’s eyes. He wanted to close them, but they were so beautiful. Icy blue and dead, just like Xiumin.

“Someone is coming, Jondgae, we have to go!” Jongin suddenly exclaimed, and even though Jondgae was not able to hear anything, he trusted his brother’s instincts.

“I cannot leave him,” he cried, “he does not belong here. I need to bury him –“

“Jongdae!” Suddenly his brother was right next to him, tugging at his arm, “we’ll die if we don’t move! Just take his body, we’ll figure something later! Please!” he begged.

So Jongdae did just that. His body moved on an automatic mode. One moment he was in the cabin, the other he was sitting on his horse, with Jongin’s tight grip around his waist, and Xiumin’s numb body against his chest. He looked at Kyungsoo, who stood in the shadows on the trees, emerald eyes shining brightly on his face.

“Thank you,” he whispered, but his gaze was fixed on Jongin.

“I’ll bring his back,” Jongdae promised, and fastened the horse.

“Save the prince, Jongdae. Save the Winter Boy, Storm Bringer!” Kyungsoo yelled after him, and smiled to himself, when he felt warm rays of sun on his skin. For the first time since many years.

“Jack!” Elsa screamed, and her yell froze blood in one’s veins. Everyone in the castle stopped their work, when the queen’s voice rang through the walls. Her broken crises and fast steps echoed in the stone corridors.

“Elsa!” the king called back, running towards his wife, “Elsa, what happened, love? What happened, why are you crying?” he asked, fear overtaking him, upon seeing the love of his life covered in tears.

“Minseok,” she cried, “he’s dead!” she exclaimed, falling to the ground.

“No,” Jack whispered, “no, he’s not, he cannot be! Why would you say that?” he tried to calm his wife down.

“The magic, Jack,” she cried out, “I- I ca- cannot feel it, any- anymore,” she choked, “and all of the stars fell from the sky tonight!” she finished, more tears running down her face, and slowly, with a shaking hand, reach for her pocket.

Jack gasped, upon spotting a bunch of grey stars on the woman’s palm. A loud screamed ripped his chest, and suddenly the whole crown hall was frozen, every inch of it, but instead of beautiful, rosy ornaments that Elsa created, the ice was covered in sharp, edgy snowflakes. Darkness filled the inside, as thick layer of ice covered the massive windows, the fire in the fireplace suddenly died out, and in the place were main door to the room were, stood a massive wall of snow, resembling bars from the castle’s dungeons.

As if the royal couple were prisoners of their own misery.

“My baby is dead,” the queen whined, “Jack, it hurts so much!” she exclaimed, putting her hand on her chest, “and I didn’t even get to see him!”

“Please, darling,” Jack begged, “please, don’t cry.”

“Mom!” they heard Junmyeon’s voice coming from the outside, “Dad! What is going on?!”

Upon hearing her son’s voice, Elsa started crying even more, “Minseok,” she whispered, and hot tears streamed down her face, “my snowflake, my little baby.”

“Mother!”

Jack pulled his shaking hand up, and with one swing opened the door for his son.

Junmyeon gasped upon seeing the inside of the crown hall. “What happened?” he asked amazed, looking around.

Jack stood up, pulling Elsa with with, however, the woman was too weak to stand on her own, so he had to support her. He wiped tears from his face, and taking a deep breath, he looked at the young boy.

“Your brother is dead,” he said, and Elsa whined again.

“Jondgae,” Junmyeon whispered quietly, and felt a warm hand on the small of his back. He looked to his right, and there stood Yixing, looking at him concerned.

Elsa left her husband’s side, and neared Junmyeon. The boy swallowed, knowing he made a terrible mistake.

“Junmyeon,” she started softly, although her voice was broken, “what does prince Jongdae have to do with this?”

Junmyeon looked at Yixing, but the other only shook his head, not being able to help his love. The prince bit on his lower lip, but then sighed, deciding to tell the truth.

“Jongdae said he had been meeting with Minseok over the past few weeks.”

The queen’s hand froze onhis cheek, and Junmyeon inhaled sharply upon seeing how fast his mother’s eyes change into dark orbs, filled with madness.

“He did this,” she greeted, “THAT ABOMINATION KILLED MY SON!” he yelled, “I told you from the very beginning that it was the West’s doing! I told you they were responsible for all of this! Those barbarians!” she exclaimed, turning to Jack. The man was only standing by the window, looking outside through a small circle, where the ice melted. “Guards!”

“No, mom!” Junmyeon tried to say something, but was cut off by his mother’s madness.

“You’ve done enough, Junmyeon,” she spat, “you should have come to me the moment you learnt about this. I am very disappointed in you. Please, leave the room, and do not interfere.”

“But, you don –“

“Yixing,” the woman looked at her future son-in-law, “take him from him, this is an order.”

The healer gulped, and although he felt like he was betraying his fiancé, he could not disobey the queen. So he took Junmyeon’s by his hand and pulled his outside, leaving the royal couple alone.

“He is going to pay for this,” the woman whispered, “I will have his head this time. Nothing will save him.” Jack stood silently in the same spot, not looking at his wife. She raised an eyebrow on him, and laughed maniacally, “are you not going to tell me I am over reacting?”

“Hyuna already told her people that Jongdae is dead. You will be only doing her a favour.”

“THIS IS NOT ABOUT THAT WRETCH!” Elsa screamed her lungs out, and a glass vase standing in the corner of the room exploded, “he killed our son! Does that not mean anything to you!”

“Of course it does. That is why I am going to let you whatever you want to do,” he whispered, and turned back to look outside the window. Jack was not good at dealing with emotions, especially the ones as strong as what he felt now – hatred, grieve, confusion, “he is here,” Jack said, surprise audible in his voice, as he spotted a familiar shape enter the courtyard.

“Cold,” Jongin whispered when they stopped.

“Welcome to the court of the North, little brother,” Jongdae replied in a quiet mumble. His heart was filled with a heavy and uneasy feeling that something bad would happen.

And he was right.

Just as he stepped on the snow-covered stone, with dead body in his arms, and his shivering brother to his left, the massive door in front of them opened with a loud bang, and a few guards came outside.

“Arrest him,” he heard a cold, but somehow weak of the queen, and felt a pair of strong arms tighten on his arms, someone else’s taking Minseok’s body from him.

“No, wai –,” he started, but then there was a hand over his mouth. He started fidgeting, but then a sharp pain shot through his stomach. Someone punched him.

“You are sentenced to death under the crime of murder,” the queen’s words reached him, and his eyes widened in panic. He started moving more violently, but the tight grip was too strong for his weak and exhausted body, “imprison him.”

“What about this one?” someone asked, and Jongdae spotted his brother standing next to another guard. Thankfully, they did not treat Jongin like him, the man only had his hand over Jongin’s shoulder.

“Put them together. But do not dare to harm this one,” the queen ordered, and Jongdae’s felt a wave of relief wash over him. But only for a moment, because then he lost ground under his feet and was pulled into the dark corridors of the castle.

Tonight, dungeons of the Northern castle

Jongdae sat on the cold ground of the cell, playing with the vial. Jongin was sleeping on the small bed, waking up from time to time due to nightmares. The room was dark, the only source of light being troches hanging on the wall on the other end of the corridor. The only way Jongdae was about to count time was when someone brought them food. After they were thrown into the cell, many hours they got breakfast. Many hours later, they got supper.

Now, Jongdae was leaning against the cold stone wall, with his eyes closed, thinking.

Or at least he tried. He had been feeling a weird, electric-like pain in the area of his collarbone since earlier hours. It felt itchy, and very uncomfortable. But whenever he tried to establish what the source of the pain might have been, the only thing he was able to feel under his fingers were many scars his body was decorated with.

“Jongdae,” a sharp voice reached the prince’s ears, so he opened his eyes.

“Junmyeon,” he smirked, “I did not expect to see you.”

“Have you done it? Was it you who killed my brother?” the other asked directly, tightening his grip on the icy bars.

Jongdae leant forward, half of his face lighted up by the far away flames, and a mad smile appeared on his lips, “yes,” he whispered, and suddenly felt blood streaming down his nose. He frowned confused, and looked at Junmyeon with surprise in his eyes.

“Why? Why would you do it? I TRUSTED YOU!” the prince yelled at the top of his lungs, and then the prince of the West spotted two more figures hidden in the shadows. Yixing and Baekhyun.

“I was tricked,” he replied after a few moments of silence, and Junmyeon’s hands fell down to his sides. Jongdae got up, and slowly made his way to the bars, to face the three, “I never meant for this to happen,” he snapped, “I NEVER MEANT FOR THIS TO HAPPEN!” he yelled back.

“Hyung,” they heard a small whimper, and Jongdae automatically looked back. His brother was standing next to him, extending his hand for the older to take it. Jongdae quickly did so, bringing his brother closer to him.

“I am sorry, Jongin,” he whispered into the boys hair, after bringing him into a hug, “I am sorry for everything.”

“It is not your fault, Dae,” Jongin mumbled.

The three boy outside of the cell looked at each other uncertainly, terrified by the prince’s sudden mood swings, but at the same time feeling sympathetic, in some way.

“You are worng, Jongin. Everything is my fault. Your blindness, Sehun’s death, Minseok’s death, you being here now. I bring nothing but death and destruction wherever I go.”

“I know you did not mean for this to happen. Any of this. And I know how much that boy meant to you.”

“It is alright. I barely knew him. But he meant a lot to others,” Jongdae whispered, and looked to the side, where he met Junmyeon’s gaze.

“Stop lying,” Jongin groaned, “you cried, Jongdae.”

Silence fell after those words. Jongdae softly pushed his brother away, and moved back to the wall, where he sat down and started playing with the vial again.

 “Save my brother –“ both princes spoke at the same. Junmyeon was looking at Jongdae, and the latter at Baekhyun.

“That was the deal,” Jongdae continued first.

“The deal was you would bring Chanyeol back,” Baekhuny said sharply.

“As you can see, my clever sparkle, I do not really have the means to do so at this time,” Jongdae retorted, narrowing his eyes.

“Baekhyun,” Yixing spoke softly, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “I want to do it. We should help… Kai,” he finished so quietly that only Baekhyun was able to hear it. The latter sighed, but then looked at the young prince, and smiled sadly.

“Alright,” he agreed, “Junmyeon, have the cell opened,” he told the prince, who ran towards the guards on the other side on the hall, and after getting the keys, sent them away.

When the three of them entered inside, Jongdae stood up made a full, ninety degree bow in Yixing’s direction, “thank you,” he whispered, and the healer looked around panicked. The Prince of the West should not be bowing to him.

“Please, do not bow, my prince,” he quickly mumbled, feeling uncomfortable.

“Hyung,” Jongin whined, standing in the same place, in the darkness, afraid to move.

“It is alright, prince Jongin,” Baekhyun spoke softly, nearing the younger. Jongdae was surprised at how gentle the Guardian can sound, and at how pleasant his voice sounded, “my name is Baekhyun. I am the Guardian of the Light, from the Library of Light. My friend, Zhang Yixing, a healer, and I, will help you get your sight back,” he explained, smiling softly.

“Baekhyun,” Jongin whispered back, “I know you,” he said surprised.

The guardian smirked, and looked at Yixing satisfied, “let’s start,” he suggested.

They laid Jongin down on the ground, his head was resting on Baekhyun’s lap, and Yixing was sitting right next to the younge’s head.

“Are you ready, my prince?” he asked, bringing his hands closer to the younger face.

“Is it going to hurt?” Jongin asked, slightly afraid.

“I am afraid it might,” Yixing nodded, biting down on his bottom lip.

“It is alright, Jongin,” a soothing voice joined them, and both Yixing and Baekhyun looked up surprised. Jongdae was sitting cross-legged on the other side of the boy, holding his hand, “I am here.”

Jongin whispered something back in a foreign to the Northerners language, and then took a deep breath, “I am ready.”

Minseok’s body was lying in the middle of a large, round room. Its walls were white, decorated with scarlet tapestries hanging from the ceiling, and streaming down the pillars, which were placed in a smaller circle. In the center was a tall, stone altar, with many ornaments on each side. It was a color of ivory, with a long, purple fabric over it. Around it were many flowers, filling the space with beautiful smell, and bringing some life to it.

Morgue. That’s what the place was.

There were two tall windows on one side. During the day, rays of sun were falling into the room, landing directly on the altar; during the night, the altar was lighted up by the moon.

“He looks so peaceful,” Elsa whispered to her husband, holding the dead man’s hand.

She was sitting on a chair, surrounded by red roses, and Jack stood behind her. He had his hand tightened on the woman’s shoulder, as he watched his child’s features.

“He does,” he nodded, however, his mind was still filled with the images of Minseok covered in blood, a terrified expression on his frozen face, “let’s hope he truly is in peace. After everything he went through, he deserves rest,” the man whispered, and then stopped, afraid that his voice might break if he continues. He saw it. He saw the scars on his son’s chest, deep cuts on his back.

“I do not like this color on him,” Elsa continued, smoothing black, silk fabric of the array.

“Love, I believe you should go to rest,” Jack spoke, finding it hard to be in the same room as his child’s corps.

“I lost twenty years, Jack,” the woman spoke back, “I deserve at least few hours with my child, before the funeral.”

“I ordered to have everything ready by sunrise,” he sighed, “the archer will be waiting.”

“What about the boat?*”

“There is one left,” the man said in a quiet voice, “we will use this one.”

“Today is his birthday,” Elsa pointed, changing the subject. Jack sighed, and felt a tear roll down his cheek, “my child would be twenty three,” she whispered softly, running a hand through Minseok’s hair, “he could be taking over the kingdom. Getting married. Twenty three years. We would have a great celebration in the evening, with fireworks lighting up the sky from dusk to dawn. He would be happy, wouldn’t he?”

“Of course he would.”

“We would all celebrate Junmyeon’s marriage. He could be his best man. I am certain he would love Yixing.”

“Of course.”

“Do you think Junmyeon and him would get along?”

“I am certain.”

“Do you think he will ever forgive us?” she asked in a broken whisper, and a few tears ran down her face.

Jack did not answer. Instead, he looked away from the dead body, ashamed. He was not able to choke out the truth. So he decided to keep quiet.

Sometimes silence was louder than words.

“It is time to move him,” he said instead, “I will sent guards to find Junmyeon. He must get ready for his brother’s funeral.”

The cell was filled with silence. Everyone stared at Jongin in expectation, waiting for the boy to open his eyes.

Jongin was terrified. What if it did not work? What if when he opens his eyes we will still see darkness? He squeezed his brother hand, inhaling deeply.

“Hyung,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes even tighter, “I’m afraid.”

“Do not be,” Jongdae whispered back, running his fingers through his brother’s hair, “everything will be alright,” he said, and his voice was soft and encouraging.

Jongin swallowed, and sitting up, he mumbled, “on three, alright?”

“Of course,” Jongdae smiled, and kept his lips up for his brother, “one,” he counted, “two – and three.”

Upon hearing the given number, Jongin started slowly opening his eyes.

“Hyu- hyung?” he mumbled, as the shapes around his started getting shapes instead of being just blurry, floating pieces.

“I am here,” Jongdae whispered, and when Jongin looked into his direction, his eyes filled with tears. His brother’s eyes were beautiful. Large, dark, and shining.

“Jongdae, I – I can see,” Jongin chocked and broke down in tears.

Jongdae started crying as well, silent tears slowly running down his cheek, as he brought his brother into a hug.

Junmyeon smiled sincerely, moved by the scene that unfolded in front of him.

“Maybe he is not as bad as every say, after all,” he heard a low whisper next to his ear, and when he turned left, there was a smiling Yixing standing next to him.

“No,” he replied equally quietly, “no, he is not.”

Jongdae got up, pulling his brother up with him, and nearer Baekhyun and Yixing. He knelt in front of them, and bowed, his forehead touching the ground.

“Thank you,” he chocked, “thank you for this.”

“Prince!” Baekhyun exclaimed, falling to the ground as well, and pulling the boy up by his arm, “you shall not bow to us!”

“I shall,” Jongdae said, “I owe you my life.”

“No, prince, you do not,” Yixing smiled his dimple smile.

Junmyeon bit on his bottom lip, as he was observing the scene. As much as he felt happy for both Jongdae and Jongin, there were racing with time. He was about to voice his thoughts, when he notice the look that the younger prince of the West was giving his brother.

“Prince Jongin,” he started, nearing the boy, “my name is Junmyeon, I am the Prince of the North,” he introduced himself, smiling lightly at the younger. Jongin smiled as well, introducing himself back. “What are you looking at?” Junmyeon asked curiously.

“My brother,” the other started, “he looks so… broken.”

Junmyeon smiled softly, feeling sympathetic. Little did the young prince of the West know.

“He does,” he said instead, nodding his head. And then he frown upon noticing Jongdae had retreated into the shadows again, and slid down the wall. His chest was falling and rising unnaturally slow, and he seemed to have problems breathing, “Jongdae?” he spoke, gathering the attention of his friends, “what is happening?”

Jongdae sighed. Junmyeon’s voice seemed distant, he himself felt as if on fire, and his head felt so terribly heavy, “nothing,” he mumbled, and a few electricity sparks run though his hair.

Junmyeon clenched his fists, and neared the boy.

“Save him,” he said suddenly in a low voice, “save my brother.”

Jongdae laughed, and opened his eyes to look at the prince, “I cannot.”

“Save him,” Junmyeon repeated, and Jongdae laughed again.

“He is dead, my prince. Your brother is on the other side. His corps are lying somewhere in this castle –“

“Stop it!” Junmyeon yelled, “there has to be a way!”

Jongdae got up on shaky legs, and narrowed his eyes, “I made the poison that killed him, Junmyeon, I, out of all people, know best that there is no salvation! Minseok is dead! He is dead, and no magic can bring back the dead! He is dead, and I am the one to carry his blood on my hands until the end of my days! Why do you even care so much! You have no connection to him, Junmyeon, you have never even met him! Why would you care if he lives?! He is dead! He is dead, because I killed him –“ Jongdae broke down in tears, and fell to his knees, “please,” he cried, “please, someone kill me finally.”

Junmyeon felt himself being pushed away, and Yixing stood in his place. His fiancé had a mask of determination on his face. He pulled his sleeves up quickly, and grabbing Jongdae’s hair harshly, he pulled the prince’s head back, so that Yixing was looking down straight into the other’s eyes. And then happened something, no one was expecting.

Yixing placed his hand on Jongdae’s forehead, and the prince’s eyes widened in fear, and a terrible scream of agony ripped from his chest, making everyone in the small cell cover their ears.

Jongdae’s body started shaking, tears were rolling down his cheeks, as he was screaming his lungs out in pain. He felt as if his brain was slowly ripped into pieces. He felt sick.

Yixing, standing in front of him, bit on his bottom lip, and swallowed harshly, as his legs started to tremble as well. His eyes became glossy, and small whimpers started escaping his lips as well.

“Yixing!” Junmyeon screamed, running towards his lover. But the boy never replied, his lips opening only to let out small sounds of pain and discomfort. Junmyeon looked at Baekhyun, horrified by what was happening, but the guardian could only stand, with Jongin hidden behind him, looking at Yixing with fear and confusion in his eyes.

None of them understood what was happening.

“Prince Junmyeon!” Suddenly, a new, deep voice joined the conversation, and upon looking into the direction of the entrance, the prince spotted one of the guards. The man gave a disgusted look in Jongdae’s direction, and smirked upon seeing in what state the Westerner was, and then looked at his prince, “your father called for you. The funeral will start shortly.”

“No,” the boy whispered, and then looked back at his fiancé. He was so confused. “Tell my father I will be ready. Tell him to wait until sunrise!”

The guard bowed, and leaved.

“Yixing!” Baekhyun cried out the moment Yixing fell to the ground, next to Jongdae. But his hand was still attached to the prince’s head, and the latter still screamed, cried, and yelled.

Yixing had not done it many times before. If it was still practiced, it would probably be forbidden. The act that Yixing decided to perform on the prince brought death to too many people. But he knew no other way. The clearing was their last option. So Yixing made a decision, and decided to act. And there he was, disconnected from the real world around him, drowning in Jongdae’s mind and memories. And he hated it. The place was worse than the worst of his nightmares. It was worse than watching his friend’s die. It was worse than the thought of losing Junmyeon.

Jongdae’s mind turned out to a place of misery, heartbreak, disappointment, violence, vanity, sadistic approaches, erseness, and decay.

Yixing had never experienced something like this.

He saw images of a small child being beaten until he laid in a pool of his own blood; a boy hanging from a wall, his wrists in chains. The boy seemed underfed, his bones were sticking out, his ribs almost like piano keyboard on his bloody check. Another scene filled Yixing’s mind, one of a teenager running through a dark forest in the middle of the night, being chased by wolves. There were a few of the same boy cleaning a bow, just to use it later to put an arrow in someone’s heart. There was an image of a boy who put a sting of a sword through some other young boy’s heart. The dead’s blood staining the murderer’s face. There were scenes of the boy being locked up in a wooden box resembling a coffin and being locked out.

Tears ran down Yixing’s face as the boy’s cries for help filled his mind.

There was no light in that grave that was Jongdae’s mind. Yixing was going deeper and deeper into the boy’s consciousness, but he could not find anything that he could use to calm the boy down. One image, that was all he needed, to plant a positive attitude in the prince. To make him think, help him figure something  out.

To save Minseok.

And then, when Yixing was about to give up, too tired himself with sharing Jongdae’s burden, he saw it. He saw Minseok.

There was a memory of Minseok and Jongdae sharing a meal in a small hut. There was a different one of the two just talking. A different one of Jongdae laughing. And then one of a kiss; a different one that was a scene in a bathroom, with Jongdae lying in a bathtub and Minseok sitting next to him. Although exhausted and broken, Yixing blushed, feeling as if he should not be seeing such things. And then he blushed even more when he found a memory of Jongdae tracing patterns on Minseok’s body, placing kisses on the older’s neck, undressing him.

He quickly pushed his hand back, breaking the connection.

The two of them, Yixing and Jongdae, fell to the ground.

“Yixing!” Junmyeon shouted, running towards his lover. They boy was panting, so Junmyeon quickly started wiping the tears away, “Yixing, what happened? What was it? What have you done?!”

“What happened?” the healer mumbled, trying to get a grasp of reality.

“You were screaming,” Baekhyun explained, “and yelling. You looked in so much pain. And Jongdae–, he looked as if he was dying,” the boy said quietly.

“Jongdae,” they heard a quiet whimper, “Dae, wake up!”

The three of them looked in the direction of the wall, under which a limp body of the prince was lying. The only indication that he was alive was his slowly moving chest.

“Baekhyun,” Yixing mumbled, and looked at his friend terrified, “I think he died.”

The Guardian paled, and his eyes grew in fear, “have you just killed... the Prince of the West?”

“No!” Yixing quickly exclaimed, and getting up he pulled Baekhyun to the side, “you don’t understand. I think he died… in the past. Like you –“

“That is impossible –“

“Zitao –“

“When he froze you all in time that day… I think the curse reached more lives that just Kyungsoo’s, Jongin’s, Chanyeol’s and yours. I think –“

“This makes no sense, Yixing. Chanyeol is dead, Kyungsoo is a living dead, and Jongin – just look at him. He has no idea of who he is.”

“But he did say he knew you,” Yixing pointed out, “I think his memories are locked somewhere within him. He just needs something to trigger them, to open the box.”

“And Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Why would they not come back to life?” Baekhyun spat.

“I do not know, my friend. But what I saw in Jongdae’s mind… the terrible scenes and images… he was in hell and back, and this is not an exaggeration. And then, at one point, there is something wrong with his memories. As if there was something missing, somewhere around the time he got here –“

“Do you think, maybe Hyuna killed him? With that hex?”

“No,” Yixing shook his head, “it was earlier. I am not sure if his going back to life would happen if it was not triggered by something.”

“Do you suggest –“ Baekhyun frowned, “that something happened in the Eastern Woods? When he was coming here?”

“I think so,” Yixing smiled knowingly.

“Shadow tribes?” Baekhyun whispered, and grimaced as the word left his lips.

“Better, Baek,” Yixing smirked now, “that was where the Storm Bringer met Minseok.”

Baekhyun gasped, “the Winter Boy.”

Jongdae felt cold. He was keeping a tight grip on the rain, curled into himself, trying to shield himself from the ongoing blizzard. He was cold, hungry and exhausted. And so was his horse. There was a constant, bothering sound surrounding his the whole time, form the moment he entered the woods. As if of a laughing woman. He frowned, looking around. There was no one there. “I must be imagining things,” he mumbled to himself, blaming his weak state. “Come one, Thunder,” he whispered to his horse, “we can do it.” But a strong wind came, freezing Jongdae’s blood in his veins, and before the prince knew it, he was lying on the frozen, snow covered ground; his limbs numb from pain shooting through his right side. He coughed, trying to get up, but there was no chance. He looked up, as this kind of movement was the only one his body allowed him to perform, and he saw a blurry figure in the distance, going his way. Then, his eyes fell shot, and darkness and calmness embraced him.

Jongdae felt calm. Nothing hurt him, nothing bothered him. He was neither cold nor hot. He was warm. For the first time in a very long time there was no pain shooting thought his body, no coldness around him. And the place. The place he was in was bright, almost blinding. Jongdae smiled, as for some reason this state suited him. Although he did not know where he was, he felt calm and pleased. He looked around. He was alone. The was nothing and no one around him. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he stood on a beach, warm sand under his feet, blue sky stretched above him, gulls were flying in circles, screaming at each other, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled his heart was joy. He took a small step forward, and the water touched his feet. He let out a surprised gasp. The rays of sunlight were falling onto his neck, sending pleasurable waves of warmth to all parts of his body. Jongdae took a deep breath, feeling his lungs with a salty air of the seaside, and sat down on the sound, enjoying the moment.

He was at peace.

He was aware of the thought that this is how his eternity was to look like. Sitting on the beach, looking into the distance. There was a large ship docked a few feet away from him, and Jongdae knew very well what was it for.

For the moment he would be ready to sail away, to the Endless Seas.

Jongdae smiled, thinking that he could gladly wait for Sehun here, and leave for the last adventure with his friend.

“If this is Death,” Jongdae thought to himself, “Life is way more scary.”

He laid down, and closing his eyes, he smiled.

Jongdae was happy.

However, his happiness was not to last long. Suddenly, he felt a weird kind of itching on his collarbone. He tried to check what was it there, as he was sure he was not supposed to feel anything in that place. He was not to feel anything at all.

But there was something on his collarbone, a small pattern that he had never knew of before. He chuckled to himself, remembering how scarred his body used to be. It would be hard to keep track of all the pattern on his body, with so many of them. But upon entering the Evergreen Lands, his body was cleaned, washed from the stains. Then why was this one not gone?

He touched it again, and frowned upon figuring it was a small snowflake.

It started itching again, and Jongdae whined.

Suddenly, warmth spread over that place on his skin, and he started falling. The ground opened up below him, and the boy was falling, the golden sands and waters of Endless Sea disappearing.

Jongdae felt a terrible pain numbing his senses. He could feel something hard below him and weird warmth surrounding him. He heard wood cracking somewhere near and the first thing he thought about was fire. Not recognizing where he was, he slowly opened his eyes, feeling a slight fear making its way to his heart. A small groan escaped his lips as he sat on the uncomfortable bed. Looking around he frowned, taking in the unknown space.

Jongdae opened his eyes, and smiled softly upon feeling someone his hair lightly.

“You are up! Finally!” Jongin exclaimed, and suddenly there were three more figures around him.

“I apologize, my prince,” Yixing mumbled quickly, but there was not even a shadow of guilt in his voice.

Jongdae sat up, his gaze fixed on the floor. He brought his hand to his collarbone, and started examining all the scars he had there. There it was, a little snowflake. He chuckled, not really knowing why.

“Hyung, are you fine?” Jongin asked, and Jongdae looked at him, but his gaze seemed absent. He looked at the ground again, thinking hard. Was there a way to save Minseok? He bit his bottom lip, and ran a hand through his hair. Think, Jongdae, think!

“The darkness here really bother me,” Baekhyun mumbled, “can we bring some light in?”

“Light,” Jongdae whispered to himself, frowning.

“There is no need,” Junmyeon said, getting up, “the funeral stars at sunrise. We need to get ready.”

“Funeral?” Jongdae exclaimed suddenly, startling everyone.

“Yes,” Junmyeon replied, “they are going to burn him,” he added in a quiet whisper, turning around. But he was quickly yanked back by Jongdae’s hand on his elbow.

“You cannot!” the prince yelled, “burn?!”

“Do not tell me what we can or cannot. This is tradition,” the prince of the North growled, “the wind will carry his ashes to the Ever Land. He will find peace there.”

Jongdae’s eyes windened upon hearing it. “You cannot!” he repeated helplessly.

“You said yourself. Nothing can be done –“

“I think I was worng,” Jongdae quickly interrupted, and Yixing smirked, “there is always a way.”

“If you cannot make a potion to wake him up, we are left with nothing,” Baekhyun pointed.

“But hyung,” Jongin’s voice suddenly made it through, “does he not have the moonlight drop in his veins? Should it not heal him?”

Jongdae’s eyes windened, “light,” he whispered again.

“It is more complicated, young prince. It is actually killing him at this point. If it had not been for Jongdae’s potion, he would have died from having the moonlight drop in his veins.”

“But it is still there to heal,” Jongdae said, sudden realization falling onto him, “Junmyeon! I know how to save your brother!” he screamed and everyone looked at him in surprise.

“And how that would be?” Baekhyun asked skeptically.

“We need to get the poison out of his system!” Jongdae exclaimed, as if it was the easiest thing on earth.

“You are mad!” Baekhyun yelled, “how would you want to do that?!”

“There is something about black magic you do not know, Baekhyun. Right now, the poison is floating through Minseok’s system tightly connected to the moonlight in his blood. Black and White magic are connected, and they will always find each other. The moonlight drop actually did what it was supposed to do,” he whispered, “it saved him.”

Everyone looked at each other confused.

“Jongdae, you make little sense,” Jongin spoke for everyone.

“You do not understand! The moonlight in Minseok’s veins had to react to the poison! It had to! No matter what was the conflict between white magic and Minseok’s abilities, the moment black magic entered Minseok’s system, as he was still alive, the moonlight drop connected with it, trying to fight it. They are rushing thought Minseok’s blood system together!”

“Prince Jongdae, are you suggesting that we have to –“ Junmyeon started, but then stopped and paled.

“We need to drain him of the bad blood,” he stated, and everyone gulped.

“But his heart had already stopped,” Baekhyun murmured.

“I might know a way to bring it back to work,” Jongdae smirked, and a loud bang rang through the dungeons.

“No,” Junmyeon whispered, terrified, “it is starting.”

Elsa stood at the end of a white bridge, placing one last rose on the wooden boat. It was around two meters long, with many ornaments decorating it, at one end there was a lantern hanging – a light that was supposed to guide the dead to the other side. Inside of the boat laid Minseok, on a bed of roses, dressed in white suit. His face was almost the color of his hair, white as snow. All color left him, his lips were grey, cheeks were like pieces of paper.

“Farewell, my son,” the queen mumbled, holding her tears back. She moved aside, making space for her husband.

Jack only looked down at the sleeping form of the boy, and took a deep breath in.

“I am so sorry, son,” he whispered, and pushed the boat off the bridge, afraid he might not be able to do it if he would stand there at least a moment longer.

“But Junmyeon –“ Elsa started, looking at the sailing boat, “he did not get to say farewell.”

The king did not answer.

Waters of the rive were decorated with endless amount of small candles, floating on the water, surrounding the boat, which was sailing away in the direction of the rising sun, and a long waterfall.

Jack raised his hand, getting ready to give a sign to the archer, who was standing at the balcony above them, to free the burning arrow.

He took a deep breath, and tightening his grip on his wife’s shoulders, he let the hand fall.

Jongdae, Junmyeon, Yixing, Baekhyun and Jongin were running up the many stairs, trying to make it on time. Upon escaping the dungeons, Baekhyun blinded the guards, so they would not follow them and imprison the Western princes again. They were racing with time, and they were losing.

“Where to?!” Jongdae screamed suddenly, stopping in a massive hall.

“The eastern balcony! The archer is there! I will run to find my parents!” Junmyeon screamed, already running in a different direction, Yixing following him suit.

“Please, take care of my brother. I will be back, soon,” Jongdae asked Baekhyun, running up the stairs.

Upon opening the door to the balcony, Jongdae froze. When his eyes landed on the archer, the man freed the burning arrow.

Jongdae’s eyes followed it, as it was floating through the morning air, right in the direction of a small boat on the horizon.

It is finally here! The next chapter! I hope you enjoyed it! ~~

1) Raitoningu - Lightning in Japanese (from The Lost Story teaser)

2) Seoli - Forst in Korean (from The Lost Story teaser)

3) Fueras - soothsayer in Latin

4) Bai Tian - bai means white, and tian sky in Chinese