Color means they're speaking in Chinese.

- § -

My eyes fluttered open, quickly adjusting to the dark. The strong smell of mold and mildew offended my nose. I concentrated on all of the surrounding sounds: water droplets falling into mirky puddles, the squeaking and scurrying of rats...

No voices. They must be out.

I sat up from my crumpled position on the floor. Pushing myself off the ground, the clinking of chains followed me to my feet. The shackles on my wrists were completely rusted over, which made it easier to detach them from the wall.

I stiffly made my way across the room, slowly and painfully pulling myself up the staircase. Sunshine leaked through the holes of the boards that made up the small, wooden structure. The floor was a mixture of cracked cement and tall grass.

I need to get out of here.

Finding the door, I pushed it open before dashing out into the forest. The grass tickled my bare feet as I finally made my escape. A warm breeze blew through my tangled hair, causing it to fan out behind me. My pale skin tingled under the warmth of the sun.

Following a path of wildflowers, I never once looked back. I weaved between trees, jumping over twisted roots before continuing on.

That's when a man's shout was heard.

I pushed myself harder, glancing over my shoulder in fear. Suddenly my body clashed with another, causing me to lose my balance. Curled up on the ground, I raised my hands in surrender to the male voices.

A man spoke to me in a language I didn't understand. I trembled in fear of what my punishment would be for attempting to run away.

"Are you alright, miss?" A man asked, this time in Chinese.

None of them knew Chinese.

I lifted my head slowly, locking eyes with an older man in a guards uniform. I nodded in answer. The man held out a hand to help me up, but I shied away and continued to sit on the ground.

More foreign voices filled my ears.

Looking around, there were three other men present, all in guards uniforms as well. The first was a chubby man who was half-asleep against a tree. The second was a pale man with large, mischievious eyes, who was arguing with a handsome man.

"That's Shindong, Heechul, and Siwon. They're Korean." The man finished. I gave him a nod to show that I understood. "My name is Zhoumi. Can you tell me yours?"

He must've taken my hesitance as fear.

His hand landed on my bare shoulder comfortingly. "Hey, it's alright-"

Images flashed through my mind: an iridescent black pearl and a luminous, white flower softly shedding light in a dark cave. There were scenes, like a painting, of waves crashing together on a misty night. The last things I saw were twelve young men standing on a clock-like platform and the moon casting an eerie glow over the ocean before all of the images came to a stop.

I gasped for air, wrenching my shoulder away from the guard's hand. He stared at me in a daze, also having trouble breathing. The other three guards had paused in their argument, watching us in confusion.

"You're the one," he muttered breathlessly before saying something in Korean to the others. They immediately rushed over, excitement clear on their faces as they started on removing my chains. They were careful not to touch my skin. The Chinese man, Zhoumi, turned to me.

"How did you do that?" He whispered in awe.

I shifted away, averting my eyes to the ground. It's going to start all over again. I closed my eyes, tears of defeat threatening to fall.

Zhoumi must've noticed my distress.

"We aren't going to hurt you, I promise."

I observed him out of the corner of my eye. His hands were held out, palms up in a placating manner. His eyes were worried and truthful, a small smile on his face. I turned towards him slightly. His head bent forward in relief, but his eyes settled on the raw skin on my wrists.

I saw the moment it clicked in his mind.

"Is that why you were chained up?" He questioned, his voice quiet and gentle. "Was someone using you for your gifts?" I nodded. On impulse, he reached out to comfort me, but I scooted out of reach. "Right, sorry." I watched as he dropped his gaze to the ground, embarrased.

"Yejia."

He looked up, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What?" He asked, meeting eyes with me.

"My name," I clarified, my voice quiet from underuse. "Is Yejia."

- § -

Footsteps echoed against the stone walls, the sounds of a panting man running up the stairs. He ran forward, using his last ounce of strength to push the heavy