Days and nights are mild, cooler with the rain and hotter under a cloudless sky, but there are no extremes. Farmers work their fields and gardens daily—dividing crops for their family, the market, and the gods.

Knowing who his mother is, mortals and immortals alike treat Sehun like a prince and give him gifts, asking for favors from his mother through him. He doesn’t understand but thanks them anyway.

He usually plays in the mortal realm with the fauns, chasing the mischievous nymphs and dryads that dive into their lakes or rivers, knowing that fauns can’t follow and will sink. They teach Sehun to swim and think it’s funny to push his head underwater with their bodies and bubble over to escape his capture, giggles spilling like waterfalls.

Among all their splashing and laughter, they notice little else. The breeze carries scents of flowers and grass. Sunshine dries Sehun’s skin and the fauns’ fur when they sprawl out on the banks, breathless.

A shadowed being watches with their heart in their throat, beating with admiration and desire.