Jeongguk took a sip of the coffee. He stared at his professor and uncle sitting in front of him. He convinced them to hear them out, finding the urge to faint again. Nothing made sense. He was stabbed by a pink haired boy who wielded a sword and woke up like it was a nightmare. A part of him still wished and prayed it was a nightmare at this point. This could not be happening.

“So, I’m listening,” he says, placing the cup down, “What’s going on?”

Namjoon and Seokjin exchange glances and turn back to him.

Seokjin exhales, meeting his gaze, “You are a half warlock,” he says. Jeongguk stares at him for what felt like an eternity before bursting out laughing. But quiet down, realizing he was the only one laughing.

“Come again?”

“Yes, you are a half demon,” continues Namjoon, “We’ve been watching over you since you were a fetus. Your father is a powerful warlock and King of the underworld and Source of dark magic.”

Jeongguk’s mouth hangs open. He could not believe what he was hearing.

“My name is Kim Namjoon, and I am also a warlock and is Seokjin-hyung, who is actually your half brother, not uncle.”

“Unbelievable,” exclaims Jeongguk, getting out of his seat, “ing unbelievable. I almost died, and you’re all pranking me.”

“This is not a prank,” replies Seokjin, “We wanted to tell you when your powers awaken, but then we underestimated the Witch Council.”

“Warlock? Witch council? Half-demon? Powers? Seriously?”

“Yes, sorry, you had to learn about it this way,” says Seokjin, “I wanted to protect you from all these, and when you told me about your dream, I contacted Namjoon. Orange blossom is a unique scent in the Kingdom of Valhalla. I think those dreams were visions.”

“So, the boy who stabbed me? Who the was he?” Jeongguk scoffs, pacing back and forth. He stared at his hands. He didn’t feel any different.

“He is probably a member of The Order, hunters who work for the Witch Council,” replies Namjoon.

“Why now?”

“You’re twenty one now,” replies Seokjin, “the seal father placed on you for your protection has been broken, just as he intended. Your mother is a human, and father felt like living here to be raised by her was the only way he could protect you.”

Jeongguk inhales deeply. His hand swam. He wanted to puke. Seokjin takes a step towards him.

…

“All this will make sense once we get you home.”

“Home?”

“The Underworld, the realm of Magic,” says Seokjin, “If a hunter has crossed over to the mortal realm, there is a veil open between the two worlds. Once we find it, we can go back home.”

Jeongguk glances at Seokjin. He was scared. Everything was surreal.

“I have to go to school?” he says, but Seokjin blocks him.

“It’s fine, you can miss a day,” he says, “Besides we don’t know if the hunter is still around. You didn’t die because it was an All Hallows eve last night, the veil between the two worlds, was temporarily removed and magic was infinite, so I think you were able to heal yourself without knowing. They will kill you.”

“I don’t believe any of this ,” he says, moving to the side. Seokjin grabbed his arm.

“You need to listen, this is not a game,” he warned. Jeongguk felt something tremble inside him- a rage he’s never felt before. Something uncontrollable. It crawled up, and his dark brown eyes were golden. Like a feline. A flash of heat seared through his head, pounding rhythmically against his skull.

Without thinking, he yanked his arm back from Seokjin, eyes blazing. With no idea what was happening. The air in the room had changed. He felt an immense charge within his body. The world darkened. The cup of coffee on the table started rattling as a gush of wind fills the air, with rumblings and shaking from chairs, tables, and furniture.

“You need to calm down,” says Seokjin, with a shaky tone, his voice ridden with fear as he glances around.

 Jeongguk stared at him. A voice inside of him screamed for him to stop, but he felt like he had no control of his body. Was he doing this? The wind and rattling were getting stronger. He did not recognize the people standing in front of him. He felt himself slipping. Were they friends or foe? At the moment, the thrill of it had rushed through his whole body. The sound of a shattered glass brought him back, as he comes out whatever trance he had entered.

“What happened?”

“Do you still not believe?” says Namjoon, taking a step towards him, “We just want to help you?” His tone was gentle and yet, the words he was speaking sounded foreign to Jeongguk. He shakes his head in disbelieve.

“Stay the hell away from me!” he exclaims, dashing out of the kitchen, as quickly as his legs can carry him.

He trudged down a flight of stairs, and was out of the house, and standing in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees. The woods were ominously quiet. The mornings marked the beginning of November, with a chilly breeze. Jeongguk tenses up, contemplating whether he should turn around and head back to the house or continue walking, in hopes to find a path that will lead him out of the woods. In fresh silence, Jeongguk took a deep breath. He had enough. He did not want to understand or care about anything. He just wanted to find his way home. Resume the boring mundane life that he happens to love and cherish.

***

By the time he arrived home, it was too late to go to his morning classes, so he decided to take a nap. He still wanted to make it to his workshop, there was no way in hell, he was missing out on working on his project. He sits on the bed, his heart pounding in his chest. Things still seemed unbelievable. Magic does not exist. How could he be warlock? And why did that boy stab him? He has never hurt anyone, so why would anyone want to kill him? he wondered. He closes his eyes. He could hear the traffic outside and was aware of everything. He was not sleeping, he just wanted to rest his eyes. Memories of last night invaded his thoughts, flashed before his eyes.

Then, he was yet again on top of a building, but this time he was not at the edge. It was night. It was strangely realistic. He felt the breeze brush against his cheek, making him shiver. His heart hammered against his chest. A delight fragrance of orange blossom invaded his nostrils and made him breathless. A bit dizzy. Then he saw him, standing near the wall, looking over something. Pink hair glistens like flames from behind. He found himself still. The pink haired boy turned around. A smile already played on his face. It was surreal. He reaches out, but it seemed like the distance between them was increasing, and yet the pink haired boy remained motionless.

When Jeongguk opened his eyes, his chest was filled with pain, an ache even- an indiscernible feeling of longing. It made no sense…the dream or vision made him tremble, and even a little bit sick in the stomach. How could he be longing for someone who tried, no, for someone who killed him? And yet, the feeling lingered on his chest.

“I’m losing my mind,” he mutters, sitting up.

 

His Film Editing Workshop class starts at eight pm, but Jeongguk was out of the house by five o’clock, avoiding Seokjin, who was not home yet. He spent the hours before his class in the Student Union, surrounded by other students who had evening classes as well. He managed to eat dinner, and work on his paper. He wondered if his friends were worried about him. He left his cellphone at the house in the woods. It must belong to his professor, Kim Namjoon, he concluded. Many questions ran around his mind. He wondered how his Professor and his uncle or half-brother as he was told earlier, know each other? Was there a truth to all the nonsense they spoke?

 

The hours went by quickly, and Jeongguk placed his laptop back in his backpack. He stares at the exit, his feet tremble and body slightly shaking. It was late, and he was terrified of being alone, and running into him. But he killed him, so he had no reason to hang around, Jeongguk convinced himself. Although, his feet remained glued to the tiles. It was too late to change his mind about attending his workshop class. Either way, he has to leave the Student Union.

“Come on Jeongguk,” he mutters underneath his breath, “Just calm down.” Don’t be a coward. What are the chances of meeting someone who murdered you two nights in a row? Never happens. He probably believes I’m dead.

He inhales deeply, and exhales loudly, finally working the courage to start walking. The Film student was just past the bookshop, it was just a five minutes’ walk from the Student Union.

 

Jeongguk cautiously walked, glancing side to side, his heart thumping like a jackhammer. It was so loud; he could not hear his thoughts. He was now walking in an open space; no human in sight. A part of him wanted to run but was too scared to communicate with his body. He could hear distant traffic from the main street, but nothing else. His palm sweated, as he picked up his pace, approaching the building.

Then his heart skipped a beat. A whiff of orange blossom got to halt, and his body to shiver. Just as he was about to run, less than five feet, a pink haired boy stood motionless and indifferent to everything around him. It was like he was not really there, but Jeongguk knew better. He was staring at the boy that killed him, last night. Jeongguk frowns, cursing at himself, for not listening to Seokjin, and taking the day off. He had to prove something, but what? Unable to think, he froze. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as a sense of alarm and the urge to scream fills him. How the hell does he find me? There was nowhere to go except forwarding or back, but something told him it was a bad idea to try to run.

The boy stared at him, no hint of surprise on his face. He cocked his head to the side, his light and dark chocolate eyes mesmerized Jeongguk. He found himself unable to turn away. Was this magic? He wondered or was he just paralyzed by fear. Jeongguk clenches his fist, internally screaming. His throat was dry.

 “By the order of the Council,” he says the boy, pulling out a sword, Jeongguk swallowed hard, staring at the silver glistening sword that the boy was now pointing towards him, “You are sentenced to death.”

Jeongguk shivered, taking a step back, “Hold-hold on a minute,” he protested, “You have the wrong person!”

“When I killed you last night that was a mere test,” replies the boy, “You are the one I was sent to kill.”

Without a moment of thought, the boy right at him, Jeongguk’s eye's widened, and everything slows down. It was like in the movies. He knew he was going to die again, but this time he might not revive. Jeongguk held out his hands in self-defense, and a bright light pulsed from his hands, causing the boy to double backward with a backflip, landing on his feet. Jeongguk’s mouth hangs open in surprise, not sure what just occurred. He glances around, and two girls were walking towards where they were standing, indifferent to them. Jeongguk watched them as they passed, confused.

“Cool trick,” says the boy, indifferent to the passersby’s as well. Are we invisible? He wondered.

“I don’t know who you are or what you want with me, but you have the wrong guy,” he pleaded, “My name is Jeon Jeongguk. I am not who think I am.”

The boy snickers, “Those words mean nothing to me, I shall carry out my mission, and rid the world of evilness.”

“Evi-Evil!” Jeongguk exclaimed, “What the hell are talking about? I have never even killed a fly. What makes me evil?”

“The blood that runs in your veins,” he replies, getting ready for another attack.

“,” muttered Jeongguk, his mind racing for an excuse, but before he could speak, the boy dived towards him. Vanishing and appearing in front of them, swinging the sword at him. Jeongguk gasps, his eyes turning golden, and catches the sword in midair between his palms, redirecting the slash towards his side. Unforeseen force, he yanked the sword from the boy’s grip and tossing it on the ground. He spun and kicked him on the side of his head, sending him flying, hitting the ground. He cried out.  If he was a normal human, he would be dead, but he wasn’t.

 Without a moment of hesitation, Jeongguk dashed towards him, his body moving on its own will. By the time the boy stood up, Jeongguk already had him by the neck. Darkness crawled up from deep within, as his assassin struggles to get loose while his grip tightens. Kill him, a voice whispered from the back of Jeongguk’s head. But then the boy locked eyes with him, and the world froze. His brown eyes were wide- Jeongguk’s dream flashed before him.

I can’t. I am not a monster. His eyes turned back to brown, and his grip loosened as the boy fell, coughing. Jeongguk takes a step back, replaying everything that had occurred. Shocked, at his own strength and ability to fight.

The coughing ceased, and the boy was back on his feet, “Why did you hesitate to kill me? I underestimated you.”

“Because I am not a murder,” retorts Jeongguk, with the frustrated breath, “I can’t kill anyone.”

The boy stares at him puzzled, and with doubtful eyes, “After what just occurred, how could you deny it. You are evil, and I will no longer let my guard down.”

“Based on what?”

“Pardon?”

“You don’t even know me; how do you know I am evil?”

“Because the Witch Council ordered me to kill you. You are a warlock.”

“No, I am human,” retorts Jeongguk, “I was born and raised in Busan, and now I am a student at CalArts. I don’t know this council you keep mentioning but they got it wrong.”

“I can’t comprehend what you’re saying,” says the boy, “In any case, it is futile to lie.”

“That makes no sense, you have no evidence of anything. My life has literally been thrown upside down,” Jeongguk rumbles, “I am still trying to come to terms with the fact that I died last night. You going to kill an innocent person, so what makes you better than me?”

“How dare you?” roars the boy, glaring at him, as a gush of wind blew towards Jeongguk, knocking him down on his .

“Ow! What the was that?”

“I did not come here to go back and forth with you,” says the boy, walking towards him, the wind getting stronger. Jeongguk glances around, wondering what was happening? Where did this sudden wind come from? Was he doing that? He sighs, standing up. Is this magic?

“Look, I don’t know what kind of judicial system you have, but here people are innocent until proven guilty.”

“What?”

“I am innocent,” he replies, “My whole life has been a lie, and now you are trying to kill me because I am supposedly evil. Shouldn’t you at least give me the chance to defend myself?”

“Defend yourself?” mutter the boy, frowning, “What’re you talking about?”

“Go back to whoever it is you are working for and ask them to give me a chance to prove my innocence. But if you still want to kill me, then go ahead. I am so ing tired.”

“You’re surrendering?”

Jeongguk exhales, frustrated, “Yes.” He stares at the boy, as the wind ceases. He seemed conflicted. Jeongguk hopped he was able to get through to him.

The boy sighs, glancing back up, “I know who you are, and I know you are evil. You may not have taken a life but soon your dark magic will consume you, and many will suffer in this mortal realm.”

“But I’m human. My parents are both human, so surely that counts more than some dark magic inside me. It’s unfair. I am a good person, and if you want, I will prove it to you.”

The boy smirks, “How?”

“By showing that I am human,” he replies, praying his assailant believes it. If not, he was ed for sure.