There’s a fire in the valley. It’s burned for hundreds of years, not breaching the sorcery keeping it within the mountain walls. Kyungsoo now sits out at the cliff of what was once a hill, not even half as tall as said mountains. The mountain valley is central of the far surrounding villages, shining brightly and infiltrating the lands with warmth. Kyungsoo’s cheeks feel warm too, just like the grass beneath his fingertips.

It’s midday, and he should be getting home with his basket full of berries and leaves to ready for dinner. The fire always catches his eyes, though; blinding, and up mountain tops, screaming for attention with every loud crackle and flick. He enjoys its warmth and lonesomeness, unlike most of the villagers who believe that the blaze is a land mark of terror, death, and evil. Kyungsoo isn’t sure what he believes of it through all of the folklore; the history of it has been stretched, twisted, and circled back around. No one quite knows what to believe of it, but most have the sense to stay away. He thinks it’s all terribly misconstrued, mostly because he thinks he has better experience and knowledge of the valley’s fire than any of the villagers that so eagerly gossip about its stories. There has only been a limited amount of times when Kyungsoo would find young villagers nearing the territory, trying to get a of excitement in their dull day.

He’s never told anyone of the day when he’d seen a man walking into the Valley of Fire, as they call it. That day, when he was merely a child who’d wondered too far from home with his dog when his mother hadn’t been looking, he’d ran right back to her with a face stained from tears and a throat burning of screams. He refused to speak of it, he didn’t think he was supposed to, and he withheld from returning to that place for what must have been months. He’s heard many stories about the Valley of Fire, but never had he heard of anyone stepping past its sorcery.

Kyungsoo’s surprised by the jolt of weight pushing against his shoulder, but he gives a grimacing smile when his dog his cheek. His village is 20 miles north of the valley, but it takes Brig no time to get there, with legs longer than most horse’s.

“Ready for me to come home, boy?” Kyungsoo uses the long sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the unruly amount of saliva left on his face. Having a Leviathan dog breed has its ups and downs, like sometimes being toppled over or being washed in a spit bath of dog kisses. Despite the cons, Kyungsoo’s source of transportation is also one of his best friends, and he doesn’t think that’s such a bad trade off.

He climbs onto Brig’s back, holding onto the long scruffy hair as Brig starts to walk away from the Valley of Fire. 

Brig takes them alongside Wooly Creak, following it back home, though the dog would know his way back without the help of the stream. The sun is high, targeting the raven hair amongst Kyungsoo’s head, and reflecting off of the water next to them. He regrets not bringing a bucket with him for water; it looks so clear and blue today, just like every day. He his lips as he watches down at the current, and he’s feeling parched in the heat. Wooly Creak is the purest stream of water throughout the lands of Hondar; kept clean by the magic casted into its depths.



The sun has fallen lower into the sky once they’re finally back to his village, however, night is still far. Kyungsoo’s cottage is looking especially vibrant with spring blooming all around it; flowers cradling his home, and vines growing up its wooden walls. The first of bluebell flowers this spring are blooming in the makeshift flowerbeds beneath the windows on either side of the entrance door, and Kyungsoo feels proud. A vibrant smile stretches across his face when he spots his little brother tending to the Glory lilies.

“Jongdae,” Kyungsoo calls out to the boy, holding out his overflowing basket filled with all of Jongdae’s favorite berries.

The boy looks back, smiling wide when he sees what Kyungsoo is holding. Jongdae’s feeling rather hungry, and also parched, particularly for Kyungsoo’s famous berry juice.

“I’ll go in and start supper. Continue with your garden, I’ll call for you when it’s ready.” Kyungsoo hops off of brig and pushes through the heavy door of his house before grabbing the large bucket hanging from a crook on the wall. “Here boy, go fetch us some water, will you?” Brig takes the bucket’s handle into his mouth and is running off toward Wooly Creak again.

The kitchen is cluttered with Jongdae’s pots and plants, some hanging from the ceiling, some residing in the window ceil, and large leaf plants growing in their woven baskets where they sit in the corner of the room. Kyungsoo doesn’t usually mind, aside from the expected slap in the face when he walks beneath an over grown ivy plant, or when he has to sweep wilted leaves up more times than he’d like.

He sets his basket on a small wooden table and proceeds to wipe down the cooking table with the cloth he’d shoved into his trouser pocket prior to going out toward the valley. It’s still a tad bit damp from when he’d dipped it in the stream once he’d finished his berry picking.

“You’re back,” a deep voice chimes from the guest room’s doorway.

He looks up to see Chanyeol leaning against the door frame, his white blouse mucked with dirt and his khaki pants left with grass stains on the knees.

“Chanyeol, why do you always show up before I even have the chance to request you for your company?” Kyungsoo shakes his head, but continues on with his chore.

Shuffling feet make their way into the kitchen. “Well, because your brother is the one who always invites me over, since you never seem to care to do so yourself. I’m good help to that little squirt, you know? A thirteen year old can’t keep up with a garden all by his lonesome.” Chanyeol picks up the basket, plucking a berry from a stim and tossing it into his mouth.

“Hey, you keep your big grubby hands off those and wait until brig is back with the water. You look like you’ve come from a dirty tunnel.” Kyungsoo has a playful tone to his voice, but he’s serious all the same. He takes the basket and sets it on the cleaned table, leaving the foods be before he can wash them and his hands. “We both really appreciate your help, especially Jongdae. I’m sorry if I don’t express that enough, you big toad.” He nudges his shoulder against the taller before he’s walking back outside into the cool breeze. Kyungsoo doesn’t hear the birds and cicadas chirping all around, only because it’s a sound he’s most used to. But the sun hasn’t set much more than before, and the village children are running out in the fields that near Kyungsoo’s cottage. He wishes Jongdae would go out to join them and the older kids, but the boy pays no interest to the thought. Though the laughter and enjoyment rings loud through their ears, Jongdae doesn’t turn his sight away from the flowers he waters and the weeds he pulls.

Kyungsoo turns his attention away from those thoughts, letting out a sigh before he looks to Chanyeol. “Where’s that little witch of yours that we like to call ‘Sehun’?”

Chanyeol clucks his tongue at that, shoving Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “She’s out doing sorcery lessons with her grandmother. Why?”

Brig is running back up with the bucket of water, leaving vibrations through the ground with every clomp of his paw. Kyungsoo points his hand that way, a look of disappointment on his face. “Might have asked for some help with washing the foods and making the juice.”

“Hey, just because water is her specialty, doesn’t mean she wants to use it to clean your berries and stir their liquids.”

A laugh bubbles from Kyungsoo, and he doesn’t argue because they both know that Kyungsoo has done enough for Sehun that she owes him for a life time. “Alright, big guy. Whatever you say.”

When night falls and supper has been sent to the pit of their stomachs, Kyungsoo and Jongdae lay out in the garden with an old wool blanket lying beneath them. There’s the far off hum of harps and bongos coming from the metropolis of the village, which isn’t unfairly far away from their cabin. It’s the celebratory date of which is believed to be the night that the fire in the valley had started. People of the surrounding villages believe that celebrating its existence will keep its energy from harming them. Kyungsoo thinks it’s all heinous.

“How do you think fathers doing? We haven’t heard from him for a few weeks now,” Jongdae inquires, staring up at the sky. Stars peak out from behind white clouds, and the moon illuminates the skies so vivaciously that Kyungsoo can see the color of pastel pink camellias in their trees. “I hope he’s well.”

Kyungsoo swallows down the uneasy churn in his stomach. “Me too.”



Hours have passed and Jondae has long went to bed, but Kyungsoo stays stationary beneath the sky; hands cradling the back of his head while he shuffles through the thoughts in his mind. He keeps thinking of what Jongdae had earlier said, and thinks of the letter from the raven. He thinks of his mother and what it had been like to lose her at an age close to his brother’s. It’s all been gnawing at him; the wonder of how he’d tell his sibling, or how the latter would take the news. Kyungsoo had nearly fallen to his knees when reading the letter that wrote out the condolences of his father’s death. He was taken by illness in a land that didn’t believe in using healing, or any magic, for that matter.

Their father was a nurse who aided the doctors throughout their travels, bringing home good money for Kyungsoo and Jongdae. There’s still plenty of income saved up for the siblings to live off of for a few months, but Kyungsoo will have to find a job that pays better than the one he takes up every so often when he needs the extra money; milking cows and shoveling dung.

Brig lies at the male’s side where his brother had been, dwarfing Kyungsoo in size. Fingers entangle with the giant’s scruffy hair as Kyungsoo pets him, thinking about the valley and how he’d like to go their right about now. Heat soaking into his marrow and long grass tickling at his skin; those are things that sound comforting during a time like now.

“Boy,” he whispers, nudging at his dog to wake up. “Want to go for a walk?”


Kyungsoo rides Brig down the path of Wooly creak, basking in the soft winds and the sound of gusting grass. He can see from here how the sky is lit up orange and yellow by the fire. It seems brighter than usual, or maybe he’d not been during the night in too long.

Long, long moments go by until they’re reaching the top of a high hill, though shorter and closer than the cliff Kyungsoo usually resides on. The earth is especially warm here, heating his bum when he’s taken a seat onto the ground. Watching out at the fire, he pulls his knees to his chest and rests his chin on them. Brig sits beside him, and Kyungsoo leans his wait against his dog, taking up all the warmth he can. The warmth comforts him, takes him away from any ounce of cold that he can feel. It takes away the memory of the winter night when he’d lost his mother during the birth of his brother; takes away empty chills and the frigid nights of no longer having his mother’s arms wrapped around him. And now the warmth will cradle him through the loss of his father.

The tears are there, and they fall down his face in streams, but he stays silent, watching the fire.

He’s there for hours, though it has only felt like mere moments; time replaced by racing thoughts. The moon is high and full, and he looks up at it, reminded of the pale round face of his mother and how much his father must have loved and missed her too. He misses them both.

Brig breaks his thoughts with barks as the leviathan raises onto his feet and his teeth show in the start of a snarl. Following the dogs eyes, Kyungsoo looks out toward the Valley. The fire is peaking higher than the mountains, roaring loud and angry. Kyungsoo’s never seen it like this, and a part of him feels frightened.

“Brig.. Brig, what’s wrong?” His dog has always had a great sense of knowing when something was.. off.

Kyungsoo keeps his eyes on the valley, watching it flicker in fits. He notices a purple hue begin to glow in the opening of the valley, crackling with blues and pink. Sorcery.

His heart begins to hammer in his chest, beating faster by the moment, and he leans forward onto all fours as he watches with fear and amazement. The grass feels especially hot and vibrant beneath his palms, yet the air feels no warmer than usual. He continues to watch, until he’s jumping backward and swallowing back a gasp of air. His eyes grow wide as he watches a man walking out from the wall of sorcery. The valley is a bit too far from him to quite make out the man’s features, but he appears to be a young man around the age of Kyungsoo. And if Kyungsoo is to be honest, he awfully reminds him of the figure that he’d once seen walking into the valley.

Brig is barking voraciously, guarding Kyungsoo and growling out at the man. There’s not a chance that the man can’t hear him, but he’s yet to look Kyungsoo’s way, and is instead running out into the fields opposite of Kyungsoo and away from the valley as fast as it seems that he can.

“Brig, we need to go. We need to leave now,” Kyungsoo says in exasperation as he pulls himself onto his dog’s back with every ounce of force and swiftness that he has in his small bones. “Go,” he demands, holding steadfastly onto the hair on Brig’s back.  



 

A/N: I'm sorry I've been inactive lately, I've been so busy and a bit uninspired.
Hope you all enjoy, especially you babybug.
I'll try to update soon!

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