Jongdae

 

“You cannot help him. He is already where he needs to be,” the enchantress replied coldly and Jongdae could feel her eyes burning into his scalp.

 

His heart clenched as his blood chilled. He had not realised the consequences of his actions.

 

What would his parents do now?

 

With their heir lost and a son under a spell?

 

“Surely there must be something,” he begged, “I started this, there must be a way to help him.”

 

The enchantress shook her head.

 

“No, you deserve no closure. Your actions condemned your brother and he must walk his own path now. So should you.”

 

She gestured to Baekhyun, who was still standing behind him, looking shell shocked.

 

“Bring the boy home and perhaps one day, if the forest allows it, you may find your own way home. But for now, your path leads you far from it.”

 

With those words, she vanished in a puff of blue smoke and the cauldron stopped bubbling.

 

Jongdae collapsed onto his knees, a soft sob tearing from his throat.

 

He had meant no harm the day he left home, only that he should avoid the dreaded fate of a loveless marriage and the stuffy rules of being the heir.

 

He had left no note, no way to reassure his parents and now he had no way home.

 

The prince thought Baekhyun might have left, he was so silent, for why would he stay with someone who had been so selfish to condemn his own brother?

 

But there was a hand on his shoulder and he let himself weep, shoulders trembling.

 

 

Chanyeol

 

The sick feeling in his stomach had vanished by the time he had taken a bath and slid beneath his sheets.

 

His mind was full of the girl, Luna and her devastatingly beautiful glass shoes.

 

He could still remember how they twinkled, they bent and formed to her feet as she danced. Her beauty was astonishing, a refreshing glass of water to the other ladies at the ball.

 

Chanyeol could not even remember what anyone else had looked like, his mind full of Luna.

 

He had only one night left with her and the thought made his stomach turn. He could not imagine living a life without her, despite only having met her for two nights.

 

His mother surely would not approve but Chanyeol turned over in his bed, drawing his covers up to his chin.

 

He smiled to himself, a thumb over the family ring he wore on his right hand.

 

---

 

The ball passed so quickly that he hardly remembered a thing.

 

Luna had appeared, late as always, her golden hair loose about her shoulders. Pearls sparkled from the golden waves, complementing the pearls worn in her ears.

 

Her gown was the most spectacular thing Chanyeol had ever seen, layers upon layers of tulle and silk and satin. It glittered as if the very stars from the night sky had been sewn into the fabric.

 

She fluttered her lashes when she saw him, her dance card fastened to her wrist by a sky blue ribbon.

 

Chanyeol could hardly take his eyes off her when she approached, setting his glass aside absently. Her skin warm and made his heart skip a beat when he reached to undo the ribbon.

 

His hand shook when he signed his name, Luna’s eyes glittering when he tied it back.

 

They danced.

 

And danced.

 

Until the clock struck twelve and Luna made to pull away, her smile slipping when Chanyeol held her fast, refusing to release her.

 

“Wait,” he said, “let me say my piece.”

 

Luna’s eyes flickered and she glanced at the clock, fingers loosening.

 

“Your Highness, I--.”

 

Chanyeol ignored her, plucking his ring out of his pocket. Luna’s eyes widened and she began tugging in earnest.

 

“Your Highness, I truly have to go!”

 

Chanyeol blinked in confusion.

 

She sounded so terrified, so desperate that he could not make her stay.

 

The moment he released her, she spun around, skirts flying and raced off, her glass shoes clinking on the floor.

 

Chanyeol followed, his heart breaking in his chest as he watched her run down the stairs, tripping and nearly falling before managing to get to the golden carriage that awaited her.

 

He was so distraught that he almost did not notice the single glass slipper sitting on the stairs, glittering in the moonlight.

 

---

 

“Chanyeol, darling, you have to get up.”

 

It had been nearly a week since Luna had abandoned him. Her glass slipper still sat on his nightstand.

 

There were times where Chanyeol had a furious urge to smash it, but he curbed it, opting to hide beneath his covers instead.

 

His parents were both worried, his mother fretting desperately over his health.

 

“Perhaps you ought to take a trip, Chanyeol. Take a break from your studies and go to another kingdom, a vacation,” she tried, shaking his shoulder.

 

Chanyeol scrunched up his nose.

 

He did not want a vacation. He wanted the love of his life back.

 

There had been news that a nearby prince had gotten married, to a girl with a remarkable resemblance to his Luna and that was enough to crush him.

 

He wondered briefly why she had come to his ball, if not to seek a suitor. Why she had danced with him all night but refused his proposal before it could even leave his lips.

 

“Chanyeol. Get up at once.” The male voice was sharp and stern and Chanyeol froze.

 

Slowly, he sat up, clutching his coverlet to his chest like a child as the figure of his father stepped into his bedroom. His mother gave him a weary look before settling into the bed beside Chanyeol.

 

“We have given you enough time to mope. Staying in bed will not bring her back, not if she never wanted you in the first place. Pack your bags, son. We’re sending you off on an adventure. It will do you some good.”

 

There was no room for argument in his father’s tone and Chanyeol knew his protests would be futile.

 

Swallowing, he glanced at the glass slipper sitting at his bedside and bowed his head.

 

“As you wish, Father.”

 

-

 

Yixing

 

The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the cherry blossom trees, reflecting off the sword blade as Yixing swung the weapon, cleanly slicing off the head of a straw dummy he had stolen from his brothers to practice. He would just have to stitch them back together afterwards. 

 

A soft breeze ruffled his jet-black hair as he sheathed his sword, unbuckling the sword belt from his waist. He toed off his shoes and set them carefully beside a dogwood tree with low hanging branches that were out of sight from the house. Grabbing the lowest branches, he pulled himself onto the tree, careful not to scrape his skin against the rough tree bark. 

 

The fragrance of the nearby cherry blossoms tickled his nose as he untied a little sack that he had tied to the tree, pulling out books that he had stolen from his brothers once more. His parents never allowed him to go to school like the other boys, nor allowed him to pick up a weapon for fear of him injuring himself. Instead, he was relegated to doing household chores that did not involve any sharp objects such as needles or knives. 

 

Yixing was tired of his sheltered life. He understood that his ailment could be fatal should he not be able to find help in time but yet, he longed to go off on an adventure like those described in his brothers’ storybooks. He begged his eldest brother to teach him to read and write, to sword fight, handle a bow and ride a horse so that he could feel less like a worthless man because marriage was out of the question for him. 

 

No woman would want a husband who was weak and had a genetic blood disorder. Besides, Yixing was not attracted to women, a fact that his father found difficult to forgive despite the fact, that his elder brother who had enlisted into the Chinese army had written home about a man who had caught his attention. His excuse was that Yixing already acted like a woman and he was bitter that his favourite son had strayed from his ideals. 

 

Yixing ignored his father for the most part. He saw no justifiable reason that his father should turn on him just because Yi Feng did not conform to his “perfect” son stereotype and preferred to stay out of his way. 

 

Let Yi Shuai be the perfect son. He thought as he turned a page in his book. He desperately missed his oldest brother who was still away in the army. He knew that his second brother, Yi Shuai, intended to join as soon as he received his results from the Imperial Examinations. There was no talk about Yixing joining the army and he doubted there ever will be. 

 

It was his father’s greatest shame, he knew, that even though he had been blessed with three sons, he could not send all three to serve the emperor like he had when he was in his prime. Yixing’s father had been the emperor’s greatest general until he suffered a devastating wound that left him crippled and unable to walk properly. The emperor had granted him leave and he retired to live peacefully in their home among the dogwood trees. 

 

“Zhang Yixing!” His mother’s shrill and panicked cry snapped the young man out of his thoughts and he nearly dropped his book. He tucked the book away, swearing under his breath as he scrambled down the tree, dreading the terrible scolding he was about to receive.

 

"Coming, Mother!" he gasped when his knees buckled upon his feet touching the ground. Before his mother could cry out once more, he was already bolting towards the nearest door, the one that led to the kitchens.

 

"Afternoon, Young Master!" his nurse greeted him cheerfully when he ran into the room, red-faced and panting from the exertion. She dearly enjoyed watching her young protege play outside in the sun as she felt it made him seem less like a lady and more like the young man he had grown up to be.

 

"Hide me!" Yixing gasped in between pants, darting towards the tall pantry cupboards as the back door blew open behind him, his mother's tall elegant figure appearing in the doorway. The old nurse chuckled and handed him a glass of water as his mother swept over to him, her beautiful face creased into a concerned frown. Yixing swallowed, taking a large swig of his water.

 

"I sincerely hope my eyes were deceiving me, Little Star. What on earth were you doing up in that dogwood tree?" His mother's voice was shrill as she tugged the glass of water out of his hand, setting it carelessly onto the counter.

 

"Nothing, Mother. Just... I just thought I would learn to climb it," Yixing mumbled, taking a step away as his mother's cherry blossom perfume swept all over him.

 

"Are you hurt?" The lady's lips were pulled into a thin line as she examined her youngest son thoroughly.

 

"No, Mother." Yixing resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He crossed his arms behind his back and straightened up so that he was at his mother's height.

 

"That's good. Don't let me catch you up there again, Little Star. You could have fallen and broken a bone, or worse." The lady's face relaxed and she ran her fingers through her son's straight dark hair, tugging gently.

 

"Now, come. Your father and brother are expecting you in the family room. His results from the Imperial Examinations will be arriving soon and he wants you to be present." Yixing suppressed a groan.

 

"He just wants to rub into my face that I will not take the Examinations," he muttered as he walked out of the kitchen behind his mother and into the family room.

 

His father and brother were already seated upon the embroidered chaises, a tea tray spread out before them. Striding over to the seat beside his brother, Yixing snatched a honey cake off the cake platter and popped it into his mouth, dropping into the empty seat. His father's eyes narrowed as he surveyed his youngest son with a critical eye.

 

"You look flushed. Have you been running?" At his comment, Yi Shuai turned his head to look at his younger brother. Yixing's cheeks were pinked with heat and there was sweat beading at his forehead as he reached for another cake. His father slapped his hand away before he could touch the snack and he flinched.

 

"Cheng..."

 

"With the exercise he lacks, he needs no extra sugar." His father's words were firm and his mother's parted lips clamped shut immediately. Yixing folded his hands into his lap and sat primly, ignoring his brother's smirk as he picked up a sweetmeat, deliberately teasing him as he put it into his mouth.

 

"Let's see it then," he said, fidgeting with his hands as Yishuai cleaned his hands delicately with a napkin before producing a neatly rolled scroll tied with a scarlet ribbon.

It was no surprise as the parchment unfurled that they could all see the perfect score marked with red ink.

 

Yixing swallowed, keeping his eyes on the table as his father fawned over his brother. He did so want to attend the Examinations if only he could have his father’s attention for once.

 

But he had no formal education, only what Yi Feng had taught him. It would be an impossible dream, just like the army was.

 

The war in the South was getting worst and more and more men were being drafted, called away from their families. There were no guarantees in war.

 

Even though they never talked about it, Yixing knew his mother at least, was worried about two of sons going into the army. Yi Feng wrote, as often as he could and always had a personal letter to Yixing but it was not the same.

 

As much as he despised Yi Shuai for monopolizing his father’s attention, Yixing could not help but fear for him, that night he crawled into bed.

 

He stared across the room at his brother’s sleeping face, softly lit by moonlight and wondered if he was afraid too.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to miss me,” Yi Shuai said the morning before he had to leave. Everything was already packed and the old cook was still baking his favourite buns. No one had seen Yi Shuai all morning and of course, he had stolen Yixing’s spot up in the dogwood tree and was peering down at him with an expression of scorn on his face.

 

“I won’t,” Yixing retorted. He tucked his book under his arm and grasped at the nearest branches to pull himself up.

 

His brother did not chastise him, merely watching him climb until he could seat himself on a branch next to him, opening his book to pretend his heart did not stop with fear at the mere thought of possibly losing two brothers to the war.

 

They read in silence for a beat.

 

Well, Yixing read. Yi Shuai was staring at the house, his gaze empty.

 

“You know. Father was wrong to keep you out of school,” he said, at last, his voice hollow.

 

Yixing looked up from his book, surprised. He and Yi Shuai always had the fiercest rivalry, being closest in age and Yi Shuai had always taken the chance to prove to Yixing how much better he was at everything.

 

“Even if he let me go, I doubt I would have been allowed to take the Examinations with no intention to join the army after,” he replied slowly, taken aback by the lack of his usual snark.

 

“He should have let you learn the arts of combat, at least,” Yi Shuai said, his gaze far away. “Then someone could protect Mother and the family while we’re gone. I’m glad you did learn though. Yi Feng is a great teacher.”

 

He glanced at Yixing, his usual insufferable smirk pulling at his lips when Yixing tried to hide his surprise.

 

“What? Did you think I wouldn’t notice you stealing my swords and books? I knew Yi Feng was teaching you. Just didn’t stop you, that’s all.”

 

“I’m more surprised you didn’t rat us out to Father. He would have put an end it at once,” Yixing muttered.

 

To his shock, Yi Shuai rolled his eyes, nudging him.

 

“I’m glad that’s how highly you think of me, little brother. Sometimes Father is wrong. Like he was wrong about you not needing to know the things that men should know.”

 

“Women learn it too, you know,” Yixing said, “I know Lan Fei has been learning sword fighting and archery.”

 

“That’s good. Maybe she will actually look favourably to you enough to want to marry you,” Yi Shuai said, laughing when Yixing shoved him with his eyes narrowed.

 

“You know I don’t want to marry her,” he muttered.

 

“I know, little brother.” Yi Shuai settled back onto the branch. His gaze had gone steely, hard like he was thinking of something painful.

 

“You don’t have to go, you know,” Yixing said softly.

 

“Don’t be stupid. I’ve wanted this all my life.”

 

“You mean Father wanted this for you. You never knew any better,” Yixing corrected, smiling when Yi Shuai looked up at him in astonishment. “What? I read. There is more to life than just fighting and war.”

 

“I’m sure there is. And you will be the lucky one to find it,” Yi Shuai replied. He turned to him and shocked Yixing by grasping his hand, pressing it to his chest.

 

“Promise me one thing, brother.” It was more emotion Yixing had ever seen his brother express and it struck him like a punch to the gut that Yi Shuai was really leaving. He swallowed.

 

“Anything.”

“Take care of Mother and Father. There’s no one else left, Yixing. This war will get worse before it gets better and Father might look strong but he may be the weakest one of us. You are different. You’re stronger. Promise me you’ll take care of them, no matter what.”

 

Yixing in a sharp breath, fighting down the tears that threatened to rise up. There was a ball in his throat as he nodded.

 

“I will.”

 

Yi Shuai released him and Yixing was shocked to find that his eyes were glassy, as if he was about to cry.

 

“You can have my swords and books. Just be careful, Yixing.” With that, Yi Shuai clambered off the tree, just in time for Yixing to hear his mother shriek his name.

 

“Zhang Yixing!”

 

“I really hate you, do you know that!” he yelled as Yi Shuai laughed and ran, away from the impending firestorm about to be unleashed upon Yixing by his irate mother.