Yerin watched Yuju like a hawk, albeit a very gentle one, as the now awake shaman fixated over the golden cage of dragons with the focus of a surgeon at work.

They had not spoken in almost two hours. Or rather, Yuju hadn’t spoken to her in two hours. Yerin bit the inside of her cheek as her teeth ground together soundlessly. The shaman had gotten the rest she needed, but the look Yuju had given her upon waking up…

Yerin didn’t regret it. She would do it again, if faced with the same choice. Yuju was horrible at taking care of herself, devoting all her energy to looking after others instead. It was as if she was incapable of not helping people; caring for strays was practically second nature. Yerin had being a direct recipient of that care once, three years ago. That would stay with her forever, and even though Yuju had never claimed any debt for it, Yerin knew she owed her life to the shaman.

Was it gratitude that kept her with Yuju? Perhaps it was, at the beginning. But she had always been curious about Yuju even before that, when they had crossed paths by chance. Yuju always saw her, waved at her in greeting, no matter what glamour or disguise she wove. It was infuriating. It was also fascinating. She wanted to know why.

Part of it was the challenge of the unknown, Yerin could admit that much to herself. Her skill was unique. People weren’t supposed to notice her, that was the whole point. They only saw what she wanted them to see. But not Yuju, no. She always recognized Yerin, called her a pretty unnie the first time they met, and the nickname stuck on subsequent run-ins. Yerin had flirted right back, naturally. Yuju had been cute even as an awkward gangly teen, all limbs with doe eyes. The shaman had been shy then though, running off if Yerin got too forward. Good times.

Yerin shifted her gaze back to Yuju, who was most definitely ignoring her on purpose by now. The older woman sighed, toying with a lock of her own hair as she considered how to make peace with her partner. They had been working together for the better part of three years, and although Yerin hadn’t yet broken that fragile wall between them, it wasn’t like she didn’t want to. Seeing Yuju bond with other people sometimes made her irrationally jealous, but she hadn’t felt as threatened with Umji when compared to Eunha.

Umji and Yuju together felt like puppies playing with their toys together, and it had pleased Yerin to see Yuju happily messing with something she liked to do. She just wanted to Yuju to be happy. It wasn’t complicated then.

But with Eunha, there was a bond between the magic users Yerin couldn’t quite intrude on. The two practitioners could often be saying nothing at all, just looking at each other, but Yerin knew enough about mages and their ilk to know that they could be communicating on the astral plane. It made her feel like an outsider. She had some minor gifts in body magic, not unlike SinB did with her enhanced speed and reflexes, but she was not astrally sensitive the way Eunha and Yuju were. It was the difference between physical adepts like herself and SinB, and true mages like Eunha and Yuju.

And Yerin knew Eunha was attracted to Yuju. Who wouldn’t be? Yuju had grown from cute teenager to beautiful young woman in the years they had been together. Lean and athletic, the shaman was skilled in the arcane arts and yet, a complete puppy when it came to dealing with people she considered friends. Which was a lot of people.

Yerin had been quietly making sure no one else made any moves on Yuju in the last three years. Yuju was hers. She wasn’t going to give up on the girl so easily. The bond of trust they had developed over time would not be so easily undermined by some other girl they had barely known for a year.

“I’m sorry.” Yerin caved first. Of course she would, Yuju was the one ignoring her now. She needed a peace offering.

“...” Yuju didn’t even look up. Yerin shifted, a mixture of frustrated annoyance rippling over her aura. She hated this, yet craved it all the same. It was like a drug, the push-and-pull of their relationship. Yuju was nice, but not a pushover. She had learned that the hard way over the years.

“Yeah, I’m not sorry. You needed the rest, Yuju. I made sure you got it.”

The truth always worked. Especially when you were dealing with a astrally sensitive mage who was constantly reading you on a passive level. It made Yerin feel in front of Yuju. Not that she actually minded, mind you. They had been together long enough that Yuju was always sensitive to her, and Yerin was irrationally proud of the fact even though it sometimes proved to be inconvenient.

The grip the dog shaman had on the small tablet she had been taking notes on tightened. Yerin felt a flash of guilt at the tightening of the other girl’s jaw. The look of hurt betrayal Yuju had given her earlier pricked hard. Yuju had trusted her, but she had used that trust to disable the shaman when she was weak, even if it was with good intentions.

“You could have asked first.” Yuju said softly. Dark eyes finally looked up, meeting Yerin’s slightly uncomfortable gaze. Yuju looked disappointed. Yerin dug her fingers into her lap.

“Would you have listened?” Yerin countered, digging in her heels stubbornly. She stared right back, their eyes locking. It was always dangerous to do that, for either of them. Yuju, because she was a mage and astral sight could see much more with eye contact. Not for nothing were the eyes called the windows to the soul.

On the other hand, Yerin’s own gift for illusions were always triggered by eye contact. She never actually tried actively using it on Yuju, not ever since finding out she was Awakened, and she didn’t want to start now. She had already bruised the trust between them earlier, she wasn’t about to make it worse by trying something stupid right now.

“I may have argued the point.” Yuju admitted, dropping the gaze faster than Yerin expected. It was always like this, Yerin thought, not for the first time. She would drop her defenses for Yuju, but the younger girl would back off without intruding further. Yuju didn’t push her away, but she didn’t let her come any closer either. It was infuriating.

“I would never hurt you. You know that.” Yerin reached forward, clasping her fingers around Yuju’s wrist. The shaman didn’t resist, which was a good sign. Encouraged, Yerin scooted around the corner of the table that separated the short distance between them, planting herself closer to the younger’s side. The older woman wrapped both hands around Yuju’s, making her put down the tablet. She brought the shaman’s hand to her chest, forcing Yuju to turn her body slightly to face hers in the process. The shaman blinked owlishly at her, and Yerin smiled at that, reaching up with one hand to cup Yuju’s puzzled face.

“Look at me.” It was a command, not a request. Yuju obeyed, somewhat hesitantly. Her eyes were clear and sincere, never confused when she gazed at Yerin. Yerin liked that. Too many others took a second to try and figure her out, but Yuju always saw her directly. No tricks, no illusions. Yerin could be herself and not someone else. It wasn’t like she could turn off her skill, only modify it to different means. When Yuju looked at her, she was certain Yuju saw her, and not what she wanted to see.

This close, Yerin could count the individual eyelashes framing Yuju’s soft eyes, feel the quickening of her own pulse as her fingers caressed silky skin. She felt Yuju lean into her touch almost unconsciously, and Yerin felt her own lips curl in satisfaction.

She could fall into Yuju’s eyes forever. Look at me. See me.

Was this what it was like for her victims? Yerin mused. It felt like drowning, but she was willing. She didn’t push further, allowing Yuju to sink into her eyes even as she got lost in return. She felt Yuju’s breath hitch, clear eyes darkening as the irises contracted minutely. The hand she held against her chest crept upwards, moving to grip her shoulder. Yerin relaxed, smiling like a satisfied cat when Yuju automatically adjusted her hold to support her.

“Yerin, I…” Yuju sounded confused, even a little frightened. The dog shaman shut her eyes, closing off the contact. Yerin sighed, leaning forward and snuggling into Yuju’s neck, her hand on Yuju’s face falling down into a loose embrace around the shoulders.

“It’s okay, puppy. I’ll wait.” Yerin breathed into Yuju’s ear, smirking as the skin went pink. Not one to miss an opportunity, Yerin nipped at Yuju’s earlobe, drawing a startled yelp from the latter. Yerin giggled, burying her face into the taller girl’s neck again. She didn’t want to scare Yuju off, but it was just so hard sometimes…

When had it all changed? It had just been a simple physical attraction at first, a natural curiosity about the girl who could see her true face. A cute girl, which definitely helped maintain the interest. Yerin purposefully skipped the yawning chasm in her memories, focusing instead of what happened after.

Recovery had taken a while, but the soothing presence of the dog shaman had been a comforting constant. Someone who didn’t judge, who didn’t ask any uncomfortable questions -- that was exactly what Yerin had needed at the time. Yuju filled a gaping hole in her life when she was most vulnerable, so was it any real mystery how deep she had fallen? It had been so gradual that she hadn’t even noticed it, at least not until Yuju found other people to save. The shock of not being the only one really woke Yerin up to the state of her own feelings. It wasn’t just like any other casual fling where the physical attraction was shallow and fleeting. She wanted more, but she didn’t know how.

Jung Yerin had spent most of her life making superficial attachments. How did one go about making a serious attempt? She had no context for it. Do you know what it’s like to forever be someone’s fantasy, but never yourself? She was navigating unknown territory, with someone who had no concept of anything beyond friendship. Yerin treasured what they had; she didn’t want to mess it up.

Meanwhile, Yuju rubbed at her cheeks, feeling the fading warmth on them. Yerin was still latched onto her, but she had gotten used to it over the years. It was almost comforting to know the older would always be there; to , comfort her, and catch her if necessary.

She still hadn’t told Yerin about the pact. Guilt rolled in the pit of Yuju’s stomach. She hadn’t been able to stop herself again, and she didn’t want Yerin to worry. She could deal with this.

Yuju tried not to think about what she had caught a glimpse of within Yerin’s dark eyes earlier. The lazy confidence had melted into a seriousness she rarely saw the older woman exhibit. It was almost overwhelming, the intensity she had felt in that moment, and her body had reacted almost instinctively. Yuju shifted awkwardly, feeling oddly embarrassed. She wasn’t supposed to react like this. She trusted Yerin with her life, and that was the long and short of it. It shouldn’t have to get more complicated. They were friends and partners, nothing more.

If hanging out with Eunha was like a comforting breeze, that brief glimpse into Yerin had scorched her like a forest fire. Ironic, since Yerin was not the fire mage in this equation.

Eunha. Yuju shook herself. She needed to focus. All this feeling was throwing her off.

Her eyes fell back on the statue. It was shaped like a rearing dragon, and the ‘ribcage’ was formed with multiple writhing gold serpents. The offending ruby that had caused all these problems lay within, though one side of the cage was dented in. Gold was soft, and they did drop it pretty hard that time.

The deformity allowed her to better see the tiny inscriptions within. She hadn’t noticed it before, but the past two hours had allowed her to try and reconstruct the algorithm that lay within. It was a fascinating, if archaic, form of a containment circle. There were more efficient ways to do it that Yuju could think of, but she supposed that was why the gem was also surrounded by gold. The precious metal could absorb any leaks and diffuse it, which explained the state of the vault where they found it.

If this thing had been in there for as long as Umji’s research had implied, that was a lot of energy diffused. The ruby might seem inert now, but Yuju wasn’t too sure about that. Something that could output that much energy was not something to be taken lightly.

And there was still the matter of Eunha. Letting herself sink deep into the Astral plane, Yuju’s consciousness fell into a mirrored realm that represented the cage holding the ruby. On this dimension, the ruby was less a ruby, dimly aglow with a pulsing energy deep within its core, not unlike a throbbing heart. Heart of the Dragon, indeed. Eunha’s trail led into the core, but the core itself opened into another path that Yuju didn’t dare to follow. She wasn’t sure if she was capable of coming back on her own power if she chased that particular bunny.

Vaguely, on the physical plane, she felt Yerin press against her, the proximity grounding her. They had never discussed it before, but Yuju knew that Yerin always made sure that she came back intact. She had seen Yerin with her old crew before, and one of them had seethed with primal energies as well. Certainly nothing like what she wielded, and maybe more akin to the fire that had chosen Eunha, except far more volatile and dangerous. Yerin had never spoken of them after she had found the older girl collapsed in the wastelands, charred by a toxic energy that had made a nature mage like herself ill to be in contact with. It was weeks before Yerin resembled anything like the cheerful young woman she used to encounter on the streets, and even then the haunted look in her eyes would return for many a night. Yuju never asked, and Yerin seemed more grateful for it.

There had to be a way to get Eunha back. Yuju considered several options. She could go after her, but there was no guarantee of being able to snap back into her physical body if the way was too far. With no other mages around to guide her back, she could easily lose herself on the farplanes.

The other option was to summon her back. That was more doable, especially since they had Eunha’s physical body still with them. Blood and bone could call to the lost essence more effectively than other mediums. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been trying small scale versions of that already though, but it had been like yelling into a void. Clearly, the way was long, and the signal had to be amplified before it could succeed. Yuju made a mental note to check with Umji on that. She needed references, and what else was a hacker good for if not to retrieve information for her needs?

The clock was ticking though. Even with the seals placed around Eunha, the longer her essence was separated from her body, the risk of it being permanently severed grew higher. Shoving a lost soul back into a body was a lot harder than calling them home. There were too many things that could go wrong with that. Yuju shuddered, remembering the grimoires she had read regarding summonings gone awry. She didn’t want to bring Eunha back wrong.

Time was the key. She needed a summoning ritual, enough power to amplify the signal, and a focus. The glowing ruby caught her eye. What focus would be better than the one that had been responsible for sending her away in the first place? The link already there would help.

Yuju was barely aware of the passage of time as she studied her target and made plans. In the real world, Yerin quietly braided the shaman’s hair out of boredom, always keeping skin on skin contact with the younger to keep her from drifting too far. Yuju had a habit of doing that all too often, losing herself in the spirit world and forgetting the needs of her physical self. It had been a happy, if oddly depressing discovery when Yerin realized that she could “remind” Yuju to come back, simply by being herself.

I can feel you always. Yuju had told her very seriously that one time, and Yerin almost thought the younger girl was flirting with her then, an impression not helped by Yuju continuing with You’re very distracting. Yerin smiled fondly at that memory. She had definitely startled Yuju that day by stealing her first kiss, if the subsequent reaction was any indication. Yuju looked positively adorable when she was shocked, Yerin mused, her eyes lingering on Yuju’s lips as she edged closer.

“Yerin, not now.” Yuju’s eyes snapped open, with Yerin’s face right in front of hers. Yes, apparently Yuju could definitely sense when she wanted to try anything, Yerin sighed inwardly. That had been an interesting discovery after the first time. The older woman eyed the tempting lips before her wistfully. One day…

“I’ll get you something to eat.” Yerin unwrapped herself from her prey-- I mean, partner. Yuju eyed her suspiciously for a moment, but when Yerin really just walked out without making any further moves, the shaman felt…disappointed? She wasn’t sure. It could have been feedback from Yerin herself, but then what would that disappointment have been about? Yuju shook her head.

She had more important things to do right now.

SinB rubbed at her jaw gingerly as she ghosted out of the auxiliary exit directly connected to her room. Sowon didn’t have to slam her that hard into the ground, but SinB appreciated not being treated with kid gloves. It was definitely going to bruise, but the workout had loosened the kinks in her body.

She had needed that. SinB had fallen asleep earlier outside of Eunha’s room, slumped against the wall. It was the least she could do, keeping her best friend company like this. Sowon had found her somewhat later, and hauled her up for sparring practice after shoveling food into her.

The sparring cleared her head. There was something clean about fighting hand-to-hand, like she was having a sort of conversation with her fists. Words were all well and good, but there was an honesty in the controlled violence she particularly appreciated in her sessions with Sowon.

The older woman fought like something out of a textbook, all blocks and counters with intent to disable rather than kill. Which made sense, since they weren’t in a life and death situation, but SinB never had the same kind of formal training, fighting like a stray cat raised on the streets. She was fast and instinctive and fought dirty, but Sowon still managed to outfox her regularly. SinB learned a lot from their sessions, and her admiration for the blonde had only grown since the day Sowon had taken them in.

There had always been an expectation back in the gang. We took you in, so earn your keep, so to speak. It was never formally stated, but it had been the unspoken rule. There was safety in the gang, but that safety had been hedged against the misery of others. There had been no peace in that sort of life, looking back. SinB and Eunha at least had each other then, but there had been so little they could do to make things change.

Sowon asked nothing of them. She took them in, kept them safe, and always offered them a choice whether or not to join her on her jobs. Her favor was never contingent on them accepting, and they had always been free to leave. SinB had been cautious at the beginning, as had Eunha, but as time passed, it was clear that Sowon had no ulterior motives regarding them. She had simply picked them up because she wanted to. That was it.

Case in point: Umji. SinB often hung out with the hacker, finding a new hobby in dismantling electronics and putting them back together. Umji was a pure soul, a little jittery thanks to being constantly connected to the Matrix, but a good person nevertheless. From what little the other girl had divulged, SinB had pieced together the fact that Umji had been yet another rescue Sowon made while out on a mission. It seemed like the blonde runner had a habit of doing that.

SinB wasn’t one to voice her squishier feelings. She could tear you a new one verbally, and snark with the best, but praise? Eunha had always jokingly compared SinB to a cat. A very haughty one. It was an apt description.

Even more apt now, as she slunk like a grungy feline through a dark tunnel. She had discovered this old shaft while exploring, and had expanded on it with Eunha’s help. Having a mage that could blast things was more effective than having to manually dig it herself.

Eunha. SinB punched the wall next to her. Yuju had already been working on the statue with Umji’s help when she had awoken earlier, but SinB hadn’t been able to offer any concrete assistance. That had been exactly when Sowon decided to haul her into their makeshift training area to let off some steam. Which was good, since she would only have gotten underfoot with the ones actually capable of doing research.

It irked her to be so useless though. It wasn’t like she could physically go out to find Eunha. She couldn’t destroy the statue that caused the problem. She could go out to pick fights with the lurking Mireu cultists, but Sowon had very specifically told her not to do anything stupid earlier. They didn’t need to draw any attention to their location, at least not before they were finished with the statue.

Personally, SinB wanted to just destroy the bloody thing once they got Eunha back, but Yerin (and to a lesser extent Sowon) had been in favor of delaying until they could turn it in and avoid breaking the unspoken rules of the runner community. SinB didn’t particularly care about those rules though. Following the rules hadn’t stopped her parents from getting liquidated by their employers once their usefulness had run out. Life was incredibly unfair when you were low on the food chain.

There had to be something she could do. SinB straightened, shoulders set. A smirk crept up her lips as she cracked her knuckles, ready to stalk. They were in the dark, but what else was there beyond shadow in the twilight? SinB had grown up in this life. There was none better suited for the hunt.

Rules had never suited her anyway. Besides, why did Sowon get to have all the fun?

Sowon winced as she touched the fading bruise on her eye. SinB was getting better at this. The younger girl was smart, and learned fast. Impulsive still, which gave the more experienced Sowon all the edge she needed. Not enough to avoid the one good hit SinB managed to land on her, but nevertheless.

It was a good thing she healed fast. Sowon stared critically at the mirror. She had stripped down to shorts and a tank top for the session earlier, and that had definitely seemed to throw the normally cocky SinB off a little. It wasn’t like Sowon didn’t notice SinB staring at her sometimes. She didn’t normally encourage it, but she wasn’t above playing dirty when they were sparring. Sowon did like to win.

The blonde mercenary slipped off the eyepatch, the mechanical eye staring impassively back at her. It was old, though it had been revolutionary for its time. Newer cybernetic eyes mimicked regular human pupils a lot better. Sowon didn’t begrudge this one though.

It had been her first augmentation. Reborn into a world she knew nothing about, with no memories to guide her, she hadn’t even known her own name. The voices in her head were a constant ache, and she kept seeing things she knew couldn't be there. It was terrifying and disorientating, and had nearly gotten her killed in her first fight.

That she only lost an eye had been a blessing in disguise. The surgeon that had picked her up off the street had kindly installed a replacement at his own expense, a favor Sowon had repaid later by running errands for him, her first taste of life as a runner in the shadows. But it was also that first installation that had given her respite in a world that didn’t make sense.

The world was flat and sharp and in focus through that eye. This is how things are supposed to be, a small voice echoed within her. The real, the tangible, the things she could touch and feel and taste. Things she could fight with her fists, or avoid where necessary. Not like the strange colors and shapes that followed her other real eye, always in her peripheral vision, but just out of reach.

Sowon didn’t trust the spirit world. Even after seeing what mages could do and knowing how powerful the Awakened were, a part of her couldn’t shake off how unnatural it was. She preferred the cold steel of blade and bullet, feeling a familiarity with weapons that grounded her to a past she couldn’t recall. She knew how to fight, knew how to plan an operation, how to be be discreet and get things done. It had served her well as a runner.

Sometimes, she wondered. Who had she been? The dog tags that hung from her neck were her only connection to that unremembered history. They had been so badly scratched that she couldn’t even make out the words, but for a single letter. On that single letter she had come up with a new alias: Sowon, a wish to remember.

Feeling at the cold metal of her tags, Sowon’s fingers brushed across the other piece there, vaguely circular and corroded. Something about it made her sad, as if she had lost something important. She kept all this close to her heart, literally and figuratively.

Her heart. Fingers strayed down her chest to that spot, covered by her tank top. She didn’t have to expose it to know it intimately, since it had been there since she had first woken up. It had been but one more of the unusual things that she had experienced since she regained consciousness.

The cool chrome over part of her torso might have been deliberate, the scales over her heart were most definitely not. They were cool to the touch, smooth even, but an irregularity compared to the human flesh that surrounded it. The only reason she hadn’t paid to have it surgically removed was because it had inadvertently saved her life once when someone tried to knife her in the chest. The blade had broken instead. She had made her peace with that particular peculiarity ever since.

Still. The scales had reacted earlier. The dragon statue made her uncomfortable in more ways than one. Everything about this whole incident kept her on edge. Dragons, she never trusted them. It wasn’t just the conventional wisdom of never making a deal with a dragon, but something deeper, more visceral. Sowon had a feeling it was yet another part of her hidden memories, but try as she might, they remained elusive.

Bending over to splash water on her face, Sowon closed her eyes. There was no point in pursuing the matter now. She had had enough time to learn patience. And right now, there were more important things to do. Like saving Eunha, whom she had failed before. She could not let it happen again.

She wouldn’t lose anyone again. Not this time.