Note: content warning for feelings of hopelessness, ones that could be seen as suicidal or in the vein of an act akin to a mercy killing. Nevertheless, as with the previous chapter, if you feel you are uncomfortable and/or unable to read some of the perspectives in this chapter, then do not feel as though you have to. 

_____

They had nothing for burns in the house. They hadn’t had antiseptic or bandages in it either, unless you counted a mandatory first aid kit. They hadn't had any of those things until Dahyun had come to the house—until she got hurt by the werewolf. That werewolf had been controlled by a witch. A witch who had been bought with the promise of emotions. Emotions that had been supplied by the fae. Against one of their own. 

All that. And it still wasn’t enough for those same fae. They hadn’t stopped with tormenting and chasing someone. They'd had to end by making her like this. 

Sana had finished cleaning the wound on her neck. She didn’t know how there was so much blood in her. How had she survived a blow like that to the neck?

I may not heal as you do, but I’m not human.

No. She wasn’t. That meant that Sana didn’t know how much help was too much. She didn’t have any spells that could heal her. Not anymore. She didn’t even have cream for the burns. Some of them she could soak in water, but that was it. 

Her skin was still so cold, but wasn’t shivering. The flow of tears had also stopped, but that didn't mean that the pain had. Sana wiped her face with a lukewarm towel. 

All of the illusions had fallen away. The scars travelled up her neck, the knife having pierced part of it, and her face. Her eyes were sunken and rimmed with shadows. She'd gotten much thinner in only a few weeks. She hadn’t been eating much. She hadn’t been sleeping. 

Then there was a sound. 

“Dahyun?” Sana leant forward, dropping the cloth. 

Tears began to seep out again. Sana wiped them away. The grey blotches on her face began to move around the black. Like ink through water. 

The door opened. In came Nayeon. Her eyes flowed blue. 

“We can’t keep her like this,” she said. 

Sana looked at her. was pressed into a line. 

End it. 

“No.” She couldn’t bear that thought. “We can’t. She’s still alive.” If Sana hadn’t imagined it, she was trying to talk.

“Sana, I can only feel a piece of what she’s going through,” Nayeon shook her head, “it’s too much.” 

“We’re not doing that.”

“What do you think Gerst is gonna say?” Fresh tears welled up in Nayeon's eyes. “His daughter went through this same thing.” 

And she was killed to stop her suffering.

“Wait,” a soft voice said, “just wait.” Mina came into the room, the shards of purple and green set upon a towel. “These are safe,” she said. “Dahyun left them for all of us.”

“How do you know?” asked Nayeon. 

“She left a note,” Momo appeared at her side. “Said they could counter the emotions they gave to us.” She came forward to the other side of the bed. Gingerly, she picked up both. Her eyes shone green and purple briefly, but she let them go soon after. Momo blinked once. Twice. Her eyes turned pink.

“And what if we make it worse?” Nayeon looked at Dahyun. “She’s going through cycles of what we had.” She chewed on her lip. “Much stronger.” 

“How do you know?” Jihyo asked. 

Nayeon shook her head. “I don’t know, but I can feel every time it changes, every time it flares up.” Her eyes closed. “And I see flashes. Of the fairies who were grieved for and,” her voice caught, “a fear of pain, of emptiness.” 

“She said these would help us,” Momo said. “So they'll help her.”

“Just,” Mina came to Sana’s side, “we’ll try this first.” She gently placed both shards into Dahyun’s hand. 

Her fingers closed around them immediately. Sana watched as they began to disappear. She held her breath. 

Another sound. A whimper. She hadn’t imagined it. 

“Can you hear me?” 

Her eyes fluttered. Below the lids were flashes of black and grey. The same colours in her hair were moving. Pulsing. 

“Momo,” Nayeon said. “Don’t give her the rest.” 

“She’s waking up,” Momo replied. “That has to mean something.” 

“The memories are stronger.” Tzuyu had come into the room. Her eye was still grey. “I just saw what Teresa looked like. What she looked like after,” she faltered. She closed her eyes. “She looked like Dahyun does now.”

And Dahyun had ended her life. So that she wouldn’t suffer. 

“But was she awake?” Sana asked. 

Another low cry. The smell of rot strengthened. 

“Was she awake?” Sana repeated. Dahyun had said she’d given up the emotions before Teresa was overcome by fear. What happened if you did the same, but afterwards?

“They said Gerst was on his way,” Jihyo pursed her lips, “I say we try it. If things get worse, we get her to sleep.”

“By telling her to?” Nayeon asked. 

“Through one of her potions,” Jihyo replied. “She used it on one and they dropped like a stone. I remember what it looked like. Pretty sure there’s another in her pack.” 

Jeongyeon came in. “There was.” 

The vial held a pale blue liquid. Was it mixed with calm? 

Sana didn’t want to, but she let go of Dahyun’s hand. She went straight into her room and took the two shards. She gasped when warmth flooded her body. She hadn’t felt it since she’d left. Not really.

Sana saw flashes of their faces. Then she saw just her own. She felt a tingling sensation on her lips. There was confusion, but also curiosity, and joy. 

Then the images started to disappear and she scrambled to keep them. Her eyes were damp. If she breathed, she could smell oranges and daffodils. Her heart raced. 

“It’s hard, I know,” Momo said. She looked down at the shards. They were on a towel now. “Are you sure?”

Sana nodded. “We have to try.” Her eyes fell to the floor. “But,” she started, “what if we’re hurting her more?” She still felt warm from holding the emotions. "What do we do then?"

Dahyun had given up this warmth and so much more for them. But it was for exactly that reason that they had to do something to help her. 

End it. 

Momo looked torn. “I think we know the answer to that,” she said. “But I won’t be able to.” 

Sana wouldn’t either. 

Going back into the room, her lungs felt cold just by breathing. When the scent of winter reached her nose, she wanted to leave the room immediately.

There was a sob. 

Where Dahyun lay, the bandage on her neck was starting to turn black. She breathed with difficulty. Her heart pumped erratically. Tendrils of grief and fear fought over her skin and hair. 

Nayeon and Tzuyu sat on one side, Mina on the other. On a towel were ten shards of emotion. One of the violet pieces was larger than the rest. 

“Tzuyu,” Sana said. “She left more of that for a reason.” 

The youngest shook her head. “If this could work, we need everything.” By her expression, she was still deep in a state of shock. “And if you’re going to tell me I need it too. That’s not true.” 

Dahyun cried out again. Sana clenched her fists. 

Momo gave Mina the shards. Then she was back at Sana’s side. She put an arm around her shoulders. 

They watched as Mina placed the different shards in her hands. The same thing happened: tightened grips before the shards melted away.

Dahyun tensed. Her breath hitched. Then came the larger piece of violet. It also disappeared. 

There was no visible change. Not even any change to the air. 

“Is something different?” Jeongyeon asked. She stood behind Nayeon, brushing a hand through the eldest's hair. 

“The memories are stronger,” Nayeon said. A shake of the head. “I can even smell fire.” Then she frowned. She looked to Tzuyu, a question in her eyes. 

Then a voice spoke. “Ajha.” The word was fully of pain. Fresh tears appeared. 

Sana went to her side. “It’s okay,” she whispered. She kept trying to dry her eyes, gently rub her thumbs over her cheeks. 

“Stop.” She spoke Korean. Did she know they were there? 

Sana pulled away. 

“Please,” Dahyun sobbed, “End it.” She curled onto the bed. The colours on her skin continued to writhe. The scent of rot was overpowering. 

Sana wanted to shake her head. To tell her that she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t get a word out.

She still wasn’t sure if Dahyun knew they were there, but she’d spoken in a language they knew. She had to know they were. That made it worse.

“Dahyun,” Tzuyu murmured. “You’re safe. You’re with us,” she said. “You’re home. Not there.” 

“Where’s the calm?” Nayeon asked. 

Jihyo left the room. 

Dahyun’s heart rate had spiked. Sana felt each beat in her head. 

Then Dahyun screamed. 

Tzuyu recoiled. She left the room.

The scent of death filled the room. Sana felt her chest constrict. The air around her became cold. Too cold. 

She saw Dahyun, still open in a scream, her eyes wide. Her pupils, irises, and the whites had disappeared. In their place were spheres of black and grey.

The fear didn’t let Sana move. Grey tinged her vision. Her mind felt like it was splitting apart. Then she felt pain along . She felt the blood escape from her. She was dying. 

Then her chest grew heavy and her eyes began to burn. Black joined grey. It pulled her down further into the fear. She saw a pale grey face. She felt a pressure in her hands. Right before a knife sank into someone else's chest.

Then it all vanished, replaced by a deep sense of calm. No scent belonged to it. Sana felt at ease, but she was still cold. 

“Get out,” someone said. Gerst appeared at the door, his brow furrowing the moment he passed the door. “All of you leave.” His eyes were a pale grey. 

“Are you going to kill her?” Momo stood. Her stance was protective. 

Sana joined her. They could trust him. They knew that, but he would think he had to kill her. Sana wasn’t sure if she could let that happen. What if they could still save her? 

“What have you done?” He stared at Dahyun. 

“Can we give her this?” Nayeon asked. She held the sleeping potion. “Will that help her?”

Gerst only looked at her. "I do not know."

Jeongyeon held Dahyun on the bed. The fairy struggled, shouting in another language, the desperation clear in her voice. Nayeon forced her head back and poured the draught in. 

Sana fought the urge to look away. Her stomach twisted. 

Dahyun began to scream again. Nayeon clamped shut, her own eyes full of pain. 

Then coils of blue wrapped around Dahyun’s waist and arms. It was light blue. Calm.

Dahyun still struggled, but the movements were slowed. 

“How is she awake?” Gerst’s eyes were the same colour. 

“I heard her,” Sana said. “Before we did anything.”

Dahyun’s grey and black eyes drooped. She stopped moving. Her breathing eased. 

“She left us a letter,” Momo said. “Telling us that she left pieces of her own happiness and love for us to find. To help us against what—what—” she broke off. 

“And then what happened?” Gerst's eyes were on the space in front of all of them, the look in them distant. Slowly, they began to turn red. 

“We gave her the first piece,” Mina said. “She started moving.” Her eyes locked on Dahyun then. “And with the rest, she started speaking.” 

“Is it still there?” Momo asked. “Or did it disappear?”

“I can see it,” Gerst said. Then he winced. “It wraps around her, taking the smallest parts of both away.” He closed his eyes. “But it is too much. It isn’t enough.” 

Those words hung in the air. The silence was broken by Dahyun’s breath becoming shaky. The scent of fear rose again. 

“Can we make it enough?” Sana asked. “Can you give her mine?” 

“I do not know how much I would need to take from you,” he replied. “And I will not.” He opened his eyes. “Your emotions may be consumed. You cannot risk losing those emotions for one life.” Black seeped into his irises. “Not when that life may not be worth living itself.” 

“You don’t know that,” said Momo, voice growing harsh. 

“Do you think I let my daughter die based on what I believed?”

She deflated then. “I’m sorry.” 

Gerst's gaze softened. “All of you have known grief. You have seen how it feels to know that of another, as well as the fear of another.” 

A pause. 

Sana knew what he was trying to prepare them for. She didn’t want to hear it. Dahyun had opened her eyes. 

“Would you please let me try?” Sana asked. “She gave those emotions up to save our lives. Let me do the same to try and save hers.” 

At the very least, they kept familial love, so they were never truly empty.

Maybe that was the risk. Emptiness. But if it brought Dahyun back and freed her from the emotions that were plaguing her right now, it would be worth it. Sana had to try. Even if the chances of it not working were—

“Take mine too,” Momo said, breaking Sana from her thoughts. “That reduces the risk of losing them all, right?” 

Gerst frowned. “She possesses the grief of several, as well as the fear of herself, Teresa, and more.” 

Nayeon spoke then. “If it works even a little bit, then you take some from,” her eyes fell to Dahyun, “me as well.” 

The others chimed in agreement. Tzuyu was back, her grey eye still visible. She also agreed. 

“You don’t understand what you are giving up,” Gerst shook his head again, “this is not the feeling of love, but the true emotion of it. Dahyun remembered her family, but she did not love them anymore.” 

“So start by taking some from each of us,” Mina replied. “You keep adding until she’s out of it.” 

Silence. The fairy wrung his hands. He looked between all of them. Then his eyes stayed on Tzuyu.

“Either you will take this, or I take nothing from you.” He held out a shard of purple that was the size of his hand. 

Tzuyu looked at it. “Who’s is it?” 

“Mine,” he said. His eyes were also purple. “It is the love I feel for my daughter.”

She shook her head. “I’m not taking that.” 

“If you want me to do this,” he said. “Then you will accept this. I must know what happens with the emotions after I give them.” A pause. “This does not take everything. I would not have enough to contribute myself if I gave you all that you needed.” He was going to give up emotions for Dahyun as well. 

I had one daughter. And two others who I love as dearly.

Tzuyu’s lip trembled as she nodded. The purple melted away. Tzuyu gasped, her eyes turning a dull shade of the same colour. Then it faded. One of her eyes was still grey. The corners of her lips tugged up, but tears appeared in the same moment. 

Gerst cleared his throat. “The emotions in her do not fade.” His eyes turned purple again before they lightened. His expression was slow to change, but Sana recognised it as one of hope. It was fragile, but it was enough. “If she returns to us, she will not be the same.” 

“You said it yourself,” Jihyo went to Tzuyu, wrapping her arms around her, “she was returning to herself before. She can do it again.” 

His expression grew sombre. “She may not want to.” 

Please. End it. 

Sana closed her eyes. She had to believe this would work. That Dahyun could come back. That she would come back. Even if that took longer, they could wait.

She would wait. 

“We have to try,” Nayeon said. The hesitation in her voice was plain, but Sana knew she would be feeling the same hope. A hope that when Dahyun opened her eyes, they wouldn’t be filled with those emotions. That she wouldn’t be stuck in a cycle of grief and fear. 

Gerst did not respond. Then Sana felt a warmth fill her chest. She saw a brief flash of her family, of her past coven, and of her family now. Then she was left with a lingering memory of Dahyun smiling up at her, her eyes green and purple. She felt a lightness in her chest and a pressure on her lips. Then it was gone. 

_____

“Sadness protects,” Dahyun rasped. “You cannot touch me because of the sadness in my mind.” Her body might have been intact, but she could still feel each blow, each gash. The terror of dying lingered. She shivered beneath its influence. 

“So give it to us,” the fae knelt down in front of her, “and all of this can stop.” They held a knife to . Just the cool touch of the metal caused fear to surge. 

“Let her go,” Dahyun said. 

Teresa was only a small distance away. Though her wounds were healed, blood still surrounded her. She was held by a chain of ice. Another fae stood beside her, the terrible contraption in his hands. One that could take their emotions with a whim, subjecting them to the nightmare that was emptiness. 

There was little she wouldn’t do to avoid experiencing it. But she had to endure this. They would not be able to touch their core emotions. Once Teresa and Dahyun felt more, they could still escape. She just had to try and endure whatever they subjected her to next. They would not kill her. Not yet. 

Dahyun called on the fear within her. She forced it to become a dagger within the emotional world. She made it physical and drove it into the fae’s chest. The pain of the effort tore into her mind. She screamed. 

The fear was taken away from her, as was the relief, and the anger. Then a knife slit . 

_____

End it. She cannot be saved. 

The words clawed at Dahyun. Her hands still wore the blood of other fae. She wanted to take the lives of more. Those who had let this conflict escalate were still alive. She could do it. 

And she couldn’t. She felt shame just at the thought of wanting to kill again. Lives had been ruined. She had killed her own people. 

She looked down at Teresa. Her skin was grey, as was her once vibrant green hair. She breathed quickly. Her heart pounded too fast. And yet she gave no sound from her. No matter how much Dahyun had screamed for her to wake up. Teresa was alive, but she was lost. 

Dahyun wanted to tell herself that this was what needed to happen. She wanted to believe that death would be a gift for Teresa. She couldn’t. 

What needed to happen was that she saved her. Teresa needed to open her eyes. Dahyun would take her fear. Dahyun would be the one who became trapped in the emotional world. Teresa would remain between both worlds. 

And yet she couldn’t save her. Teresa would never open her eyes. Dahyun had tried. And she had failed.

All that Dahyun could do now nwas end her suffering. 

Her hands shook as she raised the knife. It was one of her own calm. If there was any ease she could give Teresa in the moment just before her death, she would. 

“I’m sorry,” Dahyun whispered. Her vision became blurry. She blinked her tears away. The most potent emotion within her was anger. She drew it to the forefront, wincing as it burned her. 

She steadied her hands. Then she drove the knife into Teresa’s heart. 

Grief cleaved her into two as when the last beat passed. She sobbed as Teresa’s breath slowed to a halt.

_____

Momo was cold. No matter if she hugged her sides or ate something warm, she couldn’t get rid of this deep chill. She knew what she was missing, but she also felt pulses of warmth each time she thought of the other girls, of her. It was all so distant, as though a memory that she knew she had, but couldn't pinpoint any detail about it. The distance hurt. 

Gerst had refused to take everything. To fully take away all of the grief within her would require that. While they had protested, it was a matter where the fairy hadn’t doubted his decision. 

He had also sent them all out to the living room, saying that there was too much fear in the air upstairs. 

Momo wanted nothing more than to go to her room where Dahyun lay, to be there when she woke up from the state that had plagued her. 

Then there were steps. Each of them looked up. 

“I tried to take what did not belong to her.” Suspended in front of him were small pieces of grey and black. “But I could only take what was in the air.” Almost two thirds of the shards were put on the table, all grey. “These are from Teresa and the people Dahyun killed.” A pause. “That means they can be destroyed.” 

“And the rest?” Nayeon asked. 

“I will take them,” he said. “They are hers.” 

“No,” Sana stood, “not just you.” 

There were six shards, three black, three grey. 

“I’ll take the other two,” Momo said. 

“I don’t think you should. The memories attached,” Gerst paused, “you should not see them.” 

Sana shook her head. “Let us.” 

A moment passed. Black and grey spun in the air. Just looking at them made Momo uneasy. 

“She will take them back,” Gerst said. “Even if you don’t want her to, she will.” 

I know, Momo thought. 

Then two shards hovered in front of her. They were smoking, small threads trying to escape