Soonyoung awoke to the smell of fire. He shot up, hands grasping for his bow, but froze as pain exploded in his shoulder at the sudden movement. A figure was by his side immediately, a gentle hand coaxing him back to bed. Once the pain had subsided, Soonyoung opened his eyes to gather his bearings.

He wasn’t in the destroyed ruins of the outer city anymore. He wasn’t lying on the ground, bleeding from a shoulder wound about to be cut in half. He wasn’t consumed by magicians fire. He was safe, in a hospital cot in a private room with a thin sheet draped over his legs and a small fire burning in the fireplace.

“You’re awake.” Minghao stood over him, concern flickering in his features. Soonyoung knew it must have been bad if even Minghao looked worried. He tried to sit up again but faltered because of the pain.

Minghao let out a hiss between his teeth and shoved him back onto the bed as gently as he could. “If you keep moving you’ll never close those wounds,” he scolded, peeling back bandages which had already begun to bleed through. 

“How long have I been asleep?” Soonyoung asked as the magician redid his dressings. There were angry bruises across most of his body, but the worst was the upper torso wound and his shoulder. He stared at the ceiling and tried to distract his mind from the pain. At least he still had all his limbs.

Minghao lifted a thin finger and pressed it to his temple. A wave of relief washed over him, dampening the pain. “A little under a day,” the red haired man said as he went back to work. He finished the dressing and gathered his supplies, returning them to their spots. “But a lot has happened while you’ve been unconscious.”

“Like?” Soonyoung asked. Feeling it was safe to sit up, he careful slung his legs over the side of the bed and was careful not to jostle his arm. Even the stoic Minghao looked troubled, and it made him concerned.

“Soonyoung!” The magician turned to the sound of relief in Jun’s voice and grinned at his long time friend. The black haired male looked better than he had during battle, at least fully cleaned and dressed in proper kingdom attire. However exhaustion could be seen in the dark circles under his eyes and the heavy slump of his shoulders. He reached out to grab his hand and clasped his fingers tight. “I’m glad you’re alive,” Jun said honestly and Soonyoung chuckled in response.

“I as well, my friend,” he said. 

However, Jun’s face immediately darkened and it was Soonyoung’s turn to be worried. “We need you down in the throne room as soon as possible.”

Soonyoung’s expression turned steely. “I need a report, what’s going on?”

But Jun merely looked pained. “You’ll see when you get there.” He made to help Soonyoung up but Minghao stepped in between them, an indignant scowl on his face.

“He only just woke up! He needs rest, he’s not fully recovered. If you let him walk around he’s going to open that wound up again.”

“This is an emergency,” Jun protested. “He’ll be fine, I’ll go with him.”

“Jun, I swear to god if he bleeds out-”

Soonyoung was terrified of the glare that Minghao wore but this time Jun didn’t pause. The black haired magician had already wrapped robes around his shoulders and was half walking, half carrying him from the room before the younger boy could stop them.

“I promise I’ll bring him back in one piece!” He called over his shoulder without pause. 

The two let out simultaneous sighs of relief when they had gotten far enough to escape the red haired magician’s wrath. Soonyoung turned curiously toward his friend. “What’s happened since I’ve been out? I thought I was only unconscious for a day?”

They moved quickly through the halls of the kingdom palace to the large throne room on the first floor. Even though he had been out and was still recovering, Jun didn’t slow down. The older man just shook his head. “Too much.”

When they finally reached the throne room Minghao’s magic had begun to wear out and Soonyoung could feel the pain slip back into his left side. He bit the inside of his mouth to prevent from groaning out loud. He hoped whatever was going on inside the kingdom didn’t keep him from his rest for too long.

The throne room in the Kingdom of Valahad was as grand as the kingdom itself. The largest room in the castle, it boasted arching ceilings with extravagantly decorated walls and floors. Stain glass floor to ceiling windows bathed the floor in multicolored light, and portraits of all the monarchs that had ruled the kingdom were lined across the walls. The King sat in his elegant throne, older face stoic and serious, with gray hairs peeking out from under his golden crown and age wearing down his shoulders.

Rather than by his King’s side, the head of the Magicians Circle stood at the edge of the stairs, pure white cape billowing around his shoulders with thick waves of magic. Jang Doyoon, a misleadingly young man with soft brown locks, stared down with barely hidden contempt at a group of poorly dressed travelers. The rest of the Magician’s Circle stood flanking each side, and the King’s Guard lined the hall of the throne room, their hands close by their swords at their waists. Soonyoung could feel the palpable tension in the air and his own hands reached for the magic at his fingertips out of habit.

At first glance Soonyoung counted a good sixteen of them. They were dressed in ragged and dirt covered clothing that made the thick gray fabric look almost black. It was a strange mishmash of ages and genders, but they stood closely knit together with looks of angry determination on their faces masking their unease.

It was only when Soonyoung laid eyes on their leader did recognition flash through him.

The silver haired magician from the battle stood at the front of the group, almost protectively. He was younger than Soonyoung had remembered, with a round face and a shock of silver hair falling into his eyes, but his body was tense and he did a poor job of reining in the thick magic that was pouring off his body in defense. He was dressed in old, worn gray clothing that frayed at the edges and bandages wrapped around his legs peaked out from underneath his robes. He looked like as young as a child, but exhaustion and anger turned his face older.

Soonyoung remembered the black fire flashing before his eyes and the strange feeling in the air finally made sense. Now fully aware, he could feel the thick haze in the air that was magic from the west of the setting moon and it set his nerves on edge. Almost instinctively sparks formed at his fingers and he had to drag his magic back into his skin. 

Dark magicians. And a lot of them too.

“What are dark magicians doing in my kingdom,” the King asked, towering over the group of magicians from his seat at his throne.

It was the silver haired magician that responded. He was petite, but held himself with such grace and strength that showed he was older and more experienced than he appeared. There was no fear in his face, only a sense of stone cold determination.

“My name is Lee Jihoon and I am the son of the Tribe Leader from the Southern Isles. My people and I come in peace to offer our assistance in this war.”

An uproar broke out and immediately many soldiers and noblemen began speaking at once. “Dark magicians want to join us?”

“But how can we trust them?”

“We’ll only get stabbed in the back!”

“They could be spies sent to destroy us from the inside!”

“We should kill them before they kill us first!”

Jihoon stiffened and the group seemed to close in on themselves, their defenses prodded. But the King lifted his hand for silence and the group quieted down.

It was Doyoon that spoke. He looked cautious and untrusting, staff never leaving his hand and back never turning toward the enemy. “You call upon the west of the setting moon, do you not?” He asked sharply.

Jihoon dipped his head, bangs falling into his face like slivers of starlight. “Yes, we practice dark magic in the Isles.”

The crowd erupted into shouts again but Soonyoung merely groaned, rubbing his temple from the sudden assault of noise. This conversation was not doing well for his headache.

“Magic from the west of the setting moon is not evil,” Jihoon broke in, tone sharp but thinly controlled. “The magicians that attacked this kingdom may call upon western magic, but not all dark magic users use their magic for such evil deeds.”

Doyoon looked furious at being interrupted but the King merely watched on, a glimmer of interest in his gaze. “How interesting,” Soonyoung thought he heard.

“Even if that was true, there is no way that we can trust you,” Doyoon countered with a low scoff. “You have no proof of where you have come from, or where your loyalties lie. To welcome dark magicians into our kingdom would be foolish, and to walk into battle with our backs unprotected would be suicide.”

The silver haired magician tipped his head to the side and Soonyoung could practically see the patience leaking out of him. “We are not spies or thieves,” he stated, voice ice cold. “We have traveled a long way from our lands in the south to fight your battles. By joining this war my people know there will be casualties. Do not be foolish to think that we are not risking anything as well.”

One of the generals scoffed in response. “Isn’t this too suspicious? Why would dark magicians be joining us now?”

“He’s right,” a nervous noblemen said, “Dark users can’t be trusted! We all know those who use dark magic are evil.”

“If you haven’t noticed,” Jihoon cut in, tone dripping poison. “But you are losing this war. At this point you can’t afford to turn any help away.”

“Are you threatening us?” Doyoon suddenly snapped.

Jihoon let out a hiss of exasperation and Soonyoung felt a surprising wave of sympathy for him. “No,” he nearly growled, “That is a statement of truth. You are losing warriors and magicians to every battle without enough people to replace them. You may still outnumber the enemy but they are growing more powerful by the day. It is only a matter of time until you will be overpowered and they will destroy Valahad.”

There was a growing dissent. What the dark magician was saying was a known truth that none of the citizens wanted to admit. The mysterious dark magician army was smaller than theirs, but dark magicians were rarer and their power stronger than the three other entities. The King’s mortal army was slowly declining in numbers due to their vulnerability to magic and everyone knew it was only a matter of time until they didn’t stand a chance.

“But how could we trust you to not stab us in the back?”

Soonyoung stepped forward into the center of the room, finally sick of just listening. His body ached with each movement, but he could never go back to the infirmary if this stupid discussion never ended. Gritting his teeth, Soonyoung swept out a hand toward the cluster of dark magicians. “They saved us yesterday in the battle,” he stated.

Jihoon’s attention rested on him in surprise and Soonyoung once again met with the magician’s gaze. His eyes were as dark as he remembered, as deep as the night that threatened to get lost in. Tearing his gaze away, his eyes followed the smooth skin down his face, marred with faint old scars, and a brand new cut that must have been attained during the battle. Chapped pale pink lips pressed together and silver locks tickled the side of his face. The man was quite beautiful, but up close Soonyoung could feel the waves of power that emanated from his being.

“They actually attacked the enemy from behind me, and didn’t stab me in the back although they had the chance to,” Soonyoung said, tone light hearted but serious. He then smiled genuinely to the silver haired magician who stared at him in shock. “I owe Lee Jihoon my life.”

Doyoon was looking at Soonyoung skeptically, a frown gracing his usually kind features. Soonyoung admired his leader, but Doyoon was being stubborn. The war was growing dangerous, and they didn’t have time to mull over the stigma that had been ingrained in them since birth. “This could all be an intricate scheme to get into our ranks and destroy us,” Doyoon countered, looking like he was trying to be more reasonable while speaking to Soonyoung.

“That’s true,” Soonyoung reasoned. “But this man also has a point. Valahad is losing the war. Our soldiers barely stand a chance against magic, and we’re losing magicians by the day. We have no other choice but to accept their help. We can’t afford to turn them away.”

“Dark magic has always been evil,” Doyoon claimed. “How do we know they won’t betray us?”

Soonyoung merely shrugged, ignoring the pain that shot through his shoulder. He glanced at the silver haired magician whose gaze was narrowed in a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “We don’t. We’re just going to have to trust them.”

There was a loud creak and a gasp went through the crowd. The King stood up from his throne, royal robes billowing out around him. “Trust, a very interesting concept,” he said, staring down at his subjects with a piqued look of interest in his eye. “But is trust really what we will lay the survival of our kingdom upon?”

The older man strode down the stairs, servants hurriedly picking up his robes to trail behind him. He plucked a gorgeous wooden staff out of one of the guards hands and turned it in his fingers, taking a long look at the dark orb at the tip of the staff, before holding it out to the dark magician.

Jihoon gracefully took it and twirled the magic staff in his hands. A black smoke erupted from his fingertips and encased the wood before it transformed into a black hilted sword in his hands. He sheathed it to his belt and bowed gratefully to the King.

“I guess we shall see,” the King said, voice quiet and contemplative. He nodded to the young magician before motioning towards his guards and leaving the palace room.

It was obvious a decision had been made. Doyoon looked furious, but he did not have enough authority to overthrow a decision made by the King. The courtroom began to break out, many of the noblemen and soldiers gathering into groups to whisper among themselves.

Soonyoung let out a sigh of relief, shoulders drooping. He knew many weren’t happy, but there wasn’t any other choice. The dark magicians were their only hope in winning the war.

The golden haired man had just made for the door, the ache in his shoulder finally becoming unbearable, when a gentle tug on his sleeve made him turn around.

It was the leader. Silver locks fell into his eyes, but weren’t able to cover the dark intense stare that was directed toward him. He wasn’t smiling, but there was a curious glint in his eyes that seemed to capture him in place.

“You’re the soldier from yesterday,” Jihoon said quietly, releasing the hem of Soonyoung’s robe.

Soonyoung knew he should have felt uneasy, with only a few inches separating him from a dark magician, but he didn’t have the energy to be afraid. Other than the powerful and stern demeanor that the man seemed to command, he didn’t appear very dangerous. “Yes, my name is Kwon Soonyoung.”

The young man stared at him and Soonyoung couldn’t help but feel like those dark eyes were staring into his soul. He had eyes Soonyoung could get lost in. But then his face broke into a hesitant smile, eyes curving up into crescent moons. “My name is Lee Jihoon, second son of the Southern Isles Tribe,” he bowed, tipping his head respectfully. Then almost cautiously, he spoke. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

Taken aback, Soonyoung hurriedly copied the action. “It is all thanks to you, Lee Jihoon,” he said quickly, feeling heat rise to his face against his will. “I owe you my gratitude.”

Jihoon’s smile was distant and mysterious. A breeze of cold air caused his bangs to sway in the wind and his hair shone like moonlight. “One day I will call in that favor,” he replied quietly, lowering his gaze. “I do hope you will respond.” Before Soonyoung could question what that meant the young man swept by him in a flash of silver and disappeared.