Note: warning for a rather long chapter. If you need a break from it, then feel free. This might have needed to be split into two, but I found no satisfying place to do so.

______

The first thing Momo came across was the smell of cooking meat and the sound of laughter. 

Then it all stopped. A great wall of white stood between her. She barely evaded it in time. Then something wrapped itself around her legs, tripping her in an instant. It was warm and gave her a semblance of calm immediately. It reminded her of the day she’d first seen Dahyun use her abilities. 

Then the coil vanished.

“Sorry!” Someone rushed over. “You were just coming so fast. I thought you were going to attack.” 

She was turned over and met pale orange eyes. Chuu.

“It’s alright,” Momo felt winded, “should’ve known better.”

“Probably,” a wry voice said. Olivia. 

She sat up to see that the other two were on their feet, food abandoned on plates of black and white. Olivia held a black sword in her hands, Yves a long and curved white one. They soon vanished into thin air, causing Yves’ skin to glow and Olivia’s to lose its lustre. 

“Hungry?” Chuu pulled her up. Not as much strength as Dahyun, but still enough. 

Momo looked at their plates. Vegetables seared in the flames and meat that glistened but still looked as though it’d been grilled. 

“A little?” 

“Great,” Chuu led her over to the fire, “take whatever you want, but not all of it.” 

“Will do.” Momo smiled. “Thanks.”

She was offered a plate of moonlight. It felt warm in her hands, as though they’d held it over the fire for some time. 

“So you use this for everything?” 

“On a night like this,” Yves nodded, “we can.” 

Then Olivia rolled her eyes. "Technically, we always can, but it's easier tonight."

Momo looked. The moon shone brightly, as if it knew it was needed more than ever. 

“So what were you running from?” Olivia asked, popping a piece of meet wrapped in a cooked pepper into . She ate with her hands.

Momo frowned at her. “I—“

“No lying,” she wagged her finger, “you looked desperation. You still do.” 

She watched as Yves raised a brow at her. Then the red-eyed elf spoke. “Do you worry for her?” Her gaze was one that seemed to demand honesty. 

Momo also remembered her age. That aspect seemed to show through frequently. “Yes.” She didn’t know when she hadn’t recently. 

“If it’s any consolation, the light upon you three seems more concentrated now,” Yves said. “The same applies to the rest of you.” 

She wanted to ask what the hell "concentrated" meant, but another part stood out to her more. “You three?”

Before Yves could respond, Chuu said something in the elven language, a surprisingly hard tone to her voice. Yves looked at her, incredulous.

“It’s still a sensitive topic for those two,” Olivia explained. “But she meant to refer to how close the three of you are and the light shines well over you. That means you’ll remain close.” 

“So,” Momo frowned, “we’ll be okay?” 

“Not for absolute certain,” Chuu said. “The light doesn't give a map to go by, but only a suggestion.” Then she smiled. “A good one.” 

Both seemed to have calmed. Yves’ hand rested on the ground beside Chuu. The other elf took it, lacing their fingers together.

“The fae are flawed,” Yves sighed, “but to even know faint stories of what happened in that place would placate any punishment worse than death.” Her eyes caught Momo’s and they widened. “But there's no chance they'll kill her!” 

“I wouldn’t let them,” Momo said. Even if she wasn’t strong enough, she’d never allow it. She was faster than them at least. 

“No need for that,” Chuu reassured her. “Elarie already went over those possibilities. It won't happen.” 

Momo wasn't convinced. Darker thoughts went through her head. “Dahyun doesn’t think she’s innocent.” 

“We know,” Olivia said. “But she’s started to hope for life.”

“The eight of you and Gerst have played a part in that,” Chuu added. “You’ll never get rid of her guilt,” her eyes suddenly turned very sad, as if the bright veneer had been torn away, “but you've lessened the burden.” 

“But she shouldn't be guilty,” Momo said. “Teresa’s death wasn’t her fault.” 

“Not directly,” Yves replied. “But the mistake of withholding her knowledge from the wrong people, coupled with the growing resentment and violence of others were the reason for it.” 

“You think she’s right to blame herself?” Momo could barely keep the anger from her voice. 

The elves looked around. She’d made the air colder. 

“Blame and responsibility aren’t so tightly interwoven,” Yves said. “And you shouldn’t see the events as so separate. One couldn’t have happened without the other. They're all responsible, just as whatever decreed that emotions could be controlled is responsible.” 

“Then no one can ever be blamed for something.” 

Chuu shook her head. “We’d all gladly set the punishment on the traitor.” Her free hand was clenched in a fist. “But just because someone can be a cause for something, doesn’t mean they will or even should be punished.” She held Momo’s gaze. “And the fae'll acknowledge this. Once they truly know what happened.” 

Momo frowned. “By that logic Rila could be excused too.” 

“She could,” Chuu nodded, “but Dahyun will be excused.”

She could only shake her head. Dahyun didn’t deserve to be put on some trial. Rila didn’t deserve to be pardoned by one. 

“They think differently than we do,” Yves said. “And we think differently than you.” 

“Because you were always immortal? Seems like a bad excuse if something just isn’t right.” 

The other elf smiled. “I know enough about humans to know there are many discussions about what's right and what isn’t.” 

Momo sighed. “Some things you just know aren’t right.” 

The smile faded, but she could see that Yves wasn’t convinced. Momo felt like she was rolling a rock up a cliff only to have it fall each time. Dahyun was sometimes the same, open enough to listen, but stubborn enough not to accept what she was told. Words—at times not even actions—could break through beliefs like that. 

For a moment, Momo wondered if the rest of them were the ignorant ones.

She shook her head. If nothing she believed was right, then everything she’d done was wrong. Having her family around her wasn’t wrong, living as they did now wasn’t wrong—they’d made sure of that—and helping Dahyun when she'd come here hadn’t been wrong. Letting her into their lives and their family had been right. 

“Well,” a new voice said, "tackling morality is a task none of us will manage today.” The words cut through the scent of smoke and food, leaving only that of forests and mountains, as well as rot and winter. 

Momo looked up. 

Dahyun smiled softly, one eye blue, the other grey. That there was colour at all was a sign Momo appreciated to no end. “And today is not a day to tear down beliefs and erect new ones.” She sat down beside Momo. Dahyun could sense her doubt. Hopefully she could also sense her newfound certainty.

“So you don’t wanna tear into our arguments?” Chuu grinned. 

“I want to,” Dahyun chuckled, “but not today.” She looked to Momo then. “Though do remember that this is what they’ll think. And it is what I believe,” she said. “For now.” 

For now. A promise to change? Or to try to? Momo could believe that. If Dahyun had done anything it was to acknowledge the flaws in her beliefs. If the elves had said anything of note, it was that these beliefs were deeply entrenched, having remained there for centuries. And if Dahyun was willing to try, that spoke volumes already. 

But it also meant that they’d have to be aware of that, aware of the fact that Dahyun had been trying for a long time. She’d realised where her limits were and showed her ignorance to them. She’d asked them about the mortal world and learned that way. They had to do the same and learn from her. While Momo disagreed about a lot with both elves and fairies, she knew her own judgement wasn't perfect.

“Let’s go?” Dahyun asked. “Coffee’s ready.”

Momo felt as if she’d been doused in cold water. Coffee’s ready. To hear about that in a world where elves controlling moonlight and fairies controlling emotions existed—she almost laughed. “Let’s go.” She smiled at the elves. It was easy to do. “Thanks for the food.” 

“We’ll thank you as well,” Chuu grinned, “this kind of thing isn’t a strong suit.” Her eyes flickered then to Olivia. “It’s good to keep challenging us.” 

Momo saw Olivia smile and nod. She wanted to know what that meant, but thought better of it. 

The first part of the walk back was spent in silence. Behind them, Momo heard the musical elven language being exchanged between them. It was almost like a trio was being sung. She wondered what an entire community was like. 

“They made a mistake some time ago,” Dahyun murmured in Korean. “They haven't forgiven themselves.” 

Sounds familiar, Momo thought. “Was Olivia the one affected by it?” 

Her brow rose. “Yes.” She looked at her, a question in her eyes.

“They’re cautious around her,” Momo said. 

Dahyun’s nodded. “The fate given by the moon can be a difficult one to swallow. Either it’s been the ones who weren’t from their clan, those who weren’t fully elves, or ones who weren’t chosen.” 

“Chosen?” 

“I was doubtful at first,” she said, “sentience of light? Especially that of the moon? It seemed impossible.” Then a sigh. “But the more I learned and what the light is like, the more undeniable the moon’s power seemed.” 

“Is it like a god?” Momo asked. That would be a twist in and of itself. The myths of a moon goddess would’ve had something real to go off of. 

Dahyun frowned. “Sentience is a difficult thing to ascribe. Even to the spirits, despite seeing emotions among them and seeing those in their eyes, it took long to ever think they were somewhat alive.” She waved around them. “There was so much respect to have for the places of nature and we treated them as some would think of gods, but never believed they thought like we did or not.” 

“Why not?” She wondered again what Dahyun saw in the forest that she didn’t. And she remembered again how she spoke in the past tense. How those beliefs weren’t with her anymore.

But they will be, Momo thought. Dahyun was going to get those emotions back. That would include the reverence she felt for these places of nature. 

Another thought crossed her mind. Why was Dahyun doing this? For herself? For them? What was she going to subject herself to? She hadn’t wanted to for a reason. 

“Momo?” Dahyun caught her hand, pulling her back. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” she looked away, “a lot’s been happening. It’s fine.” 

The fairy gave her a look. “Really?” 

Momo didn’t feel exposed as she once had. She wanted to admit all that she'd pushed down. 

“Is it about what’s been happening?” Dahyun asked. “To,” she trailed off, “to me?” 

Her heart dropped. “What’s happening to you?” 

The fairy’s eyes widened then. “Oh, this isn’t that?” 

“Isn’t what?” Momo frowned. 

Dahyun shook her head. “It isn’t something I know for sure. It’s nothing.” 

“Sounds familiar.” 

A small smile. “Maybe.” 

Momo’s mind flooded with possibilities. Dahyun had wounds that time wouldn’t heal. And it was also something she didn’t want any of them knowing about.

“Tell you what,” Momo said. “I’ll tell you what’s been bothering me first.” Then she’d have to convince her to tell Sana as well. They’d have to be on the same page.

Dahyun looked at her for a long moment. Deliberating. “Okay.” 

“I,” and now she was at a loss for what to say, “I kept thinking that you weren’t here with us.” She closed her eyes. “That you weren’t yourself anymore.” The more she said, the more ashamed she felt. 

“I wasn’t,” Dahyun said softly. “Much of my life isn’t with me anymore.” 

Momo had to open her eyes. Dahyun’s were distant. “I don’t believe that anymore.” That felt better to say. It felt right. 

“Then why do you still feel ashamed?” Dahyun asked. “You weren’t wrong in the first place, but even now I see guilt for your thoughts.” 

Momo had to blink several times. The more they spoke, the more she saw that Dahyun still fought with the question of who she was. Momo had only added to that cycle of doubt. 

“The person I lost,” Momo began, “he was human.” 

Dahyun’s brow furrowed. “You don’t have to tell me about that.” 

“I do,” she replied. She hadn’t before. Dahyun knew about it, but she didn’t understand. Not yet. “The girls told me I shouldn’t have and I knew it too.” So many times had the thought crossed her mind to turn him, but she hadn’t done it. “I thought I’d be there for a few years and disappear. As always.” 

“But time can extend itself,” Dahyun finished. “Weeks grow to feel like months, months are like years.” Her blue and grey eyes went to Momo’s. “I might’ve told you once that emotions addle our perception.”

“Making a long time seem short,” Momo smiled slightly, “weird.” 

She nodded. “You don’t need to finish that story. I,” she cut off. Meaning, she had seen enough. 

But Momo had to finish. The pain had come back. His face was still as she’d remembered, not even a detail left out. “He found out what I was a year after we’d, well, at that time it’d probably been called courting.” She smiled slightly, remembering the awkward phase, but also the days when things had finally changed. When she'd realised what she felt for him. “He hadn’t run off, but he should’ve.”  

A hand took hers. It was cool, but there was still warmth in her touch. Calm. 

Momo squeezed her hand. “With how our coven was, with how everything was back then, it wasn’t safe to stay somewhere.” She explained how a rival coven had wanted the town for themselves. How they’d picked people off, letting the humans think it was due to another cause. Then how they’d finally come. All of them. “And we hadn’t been there.” Instead, they’d tracked a werewolf pack who’d been forming. All while the screams of that town had filled the night. And Momo had only heard a faint whistling in the wind. 

“How could you have known,” Dahyun tapped Momo's chin, “you were trying to protect them from another threat.” 

“I know,” Momo sighed, “I know.” The grief had come back, clutching at her chest as she remembered the smell of blood in the air. She saw him. “They’d left some alive,” she said. "Including him." Her voice was shaky. “Dying, but there for me to see his eyes one last time.” She tried to drive the images from her head. 

“You didn’t turn him.” Her eyes weren’t full of pity as the girls’ had been. They were filled with sympathy.

She shook her head. “He’d lost his family, all those he’d known. And he hadn’t wanted to be like us.” And Nayeon had warned her off doing so. Even Mina, who’d done something the same to her. There were deaths that had to happen. For a long time, she’d hated that she’d made that choice. She hated that they'd convinced her to let him die. 

“Though that doesn’t quell the regret at not having him alive,” Dahyun said. “Or that any of them hadn't been able to live full lives.” 

Momo took a breath, trying not to dwell on how difficult it had become. The air smelled more of mountains than of decay. “We hunted them down.” 

Dahyun only nodded. It was all she’d needed to hear. And all that Momo would say.

Momo sighed. She’d finally told that story. “I thought I’d lost you.” She tried to stop the tears from forming, but they welled up in her eyes. “And it still felt like I never got you back.” She tightened her grip on Dahyun’s hands. They were cold. She wasn’t sure when the last time she had touched Dahyun like this had been.

No. She knew that. It had been when black and grey had engulfed her, taking her away from herself. And all of them.

“And I hate that I thought you weren’t the same,” Momo said. “That you felt like I was hoping for something you couldn’t give us.” That she’d given her the feeling that Dahyun hadn’t been enough. “I could never be disappointed of you. You’re trying. I see it every day.” She managed a smile, but was well aware it looked terrible.

To her credit, Dahyun returned the smile. It looked so much brighter than before. 

“And I’m so proud and happy that you’re able to.” Momo caught her breath. “I was disappointed because I wasn't trying. I'm ashamed of myself for thinking you’re not the same.”

“But you were right,” Dahyun replied. “I could try as much as I wanted to, but I’d never be the same.” Her brow furrowed as she looked away. Doubt softened her expression. 

Momo cupped her face, urging the fairy to look at her. “You can’t think like that. We can’t think like that. Whether or not you’re the same as before, you’re still Dahyun, the fairy made of light and dark blue.” Gently, she brushed their foreheads together. “And even if you don’t have the emotions of before, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a part of our lives, just as we’re a part of yours.” She let the words sink in. Then she said, “and you’re always going to be a part of mine.” 

Dahyun smiled fully then. And the expression was one Momo couldn’t look away from. She’d missed this. 

“And whatever you’re going to do now,” Momo said. “It needs to be for you. Not for us.” She tried to drop the tremor in her words. “Because no matter how long it takes, we’ll be here. You’re still with us As you were. You’re still the person we all love.” And the one I love, she added silently. 

Dahyun was still smiling. The air was clearer now. The cold had disappeared and a warmth had settled in Momo’s chest.

“Thank you for saying that.” She nodded once. “I’ve decided to act for all of us,” she said. “You don’t seem to have noticed the change itself,” her eyes seemed hopeful for a moment before it disappeared, “but I have.” She looked around. “Though,” a small sigh, “I think this is something I must tell all of you first.” 

Momo smiled. “I think they’ve already been listening.” She let her hands fall away from Dahyun’s face. The contact made the warmth subside, but only a bit. 

Dahyun nodded. “All of them have, trying to catch what snippets they could.” She met Momo’s eyes again. The blue in her eye was brighter now. Or was she imagining that? “They’ve coloured the forest with their curiosity.” There was a flash of something. Orange. Had that been in her skin? Or something she'd imagined?

“I’d say it’s being nosy.” Momo made sure to say it in English. 

There were a few chuckles in the distance. 

“Then let’s go.” Dahyun walked on. She still held Momo’s hand. “There’s much more to tell.”

______

When Dahyun came back, her eyes had grown thoughtful. The bit of teasing from earlier with their eavesdropping had faded. 

Sana watched as she sent reassuring smiles to both Etera and Gerst. The eyes of those fairies’ eyes were a combination of gold and white. Curiosity, or confusion, and pride?

Dahyun was nervous. Sana could spot the colours around her. She also felt her anticipation and worry. 

“I’ve struggled to put this feeling into words,” Dahyun began. “It’s one that’s been there since they first began with the theft of emotions,” she frowned, “unlike sadness, which has a heaviness, that process left me with an emptiness.” Her eyes searched the room, but she met no one’s eyes. “And even when I did feel, when I had the emotions I feel for all of you, they only helped quell the fear and ensure I wasn’t devoid of a…a,” she trailed off. Her hands moved and in the air appeared a cloud of blue. Then around it came the same emotions Sana had seen before: silver, a dull yellow, and gold. 

“A shell,” Etera said. “The core still remains, but all that protects it is—it’s not there.” 

Dahyun nodded. Sana saw recognition. Then disappointment. None had ever experienced something like this. If they had, they were no longer alive. Dahyun had wanted to be proven wrong. 

“And with all else that happened,” Dahyun’s voice grew quieter, “the rest of me was exposed.” The other emotions around the blue disappeared. Then the blue cloud itself expanded. Holes appeared in it, as though punched through. The smell of winter and decay entered the air. Tendrils of black and grey appeared as well, weaving in and out of the holes. It looked as though a tapestry was being repaired, but the thread used to fill in the gaps only seemed to make it worse. The holes widened. 

Gerst and Etera looked on with sad eyes. They weren't surprised. 

“So you lost those parts of you?” Sana asked. The rest were silent. 

“Not lost,” Dahyun shook her head, “it’s still there.” Her brow furrowed and confusion began to appear in the air. Then her brow rose and Sana saw slivers of yellow and green. “It’s like dough. If you poke a hole in it, there’s still the same amount of dough, but there’s also still a hole.” The emotions in the air disappeared. “And I had believed that feeling would fade, but it didn’t before and I know it won’t now.” 

The disappointment expanded. Sana felt it weigh down on her. These were the wounds that wouldn’t heal. 

“But it will if you get your emotions back?” Nayeon had a sobriety to her expression. She’d seen some of it in Dahyun before. Tzuyu as well. The rest of them had briefly experienced it as well through Dahyun’s memories. 

Sana wondered if the other fairies sensed it as well. The elves knew of it, but had they felt it?

“They could,” Dahyun replied. “I know they'll help, but not entirely if I’ll be healed.” Her brow furrowed. “Yet the others believe they can be filled.” 

“So this could still be a risk,” Tzuyu said. “You might have to live through all that and still have,” she looked down, “the emptiness.”

Dahyun didn’t respond, but Sana felt her doubt. Hope joined it. 

Then she heard the elves coming to the house. They had three distinctive steps, one of them strode forward, another seemed to skip, while the third dragged her feet. 

“The emotions that will be given back may still heal,” Gerst said. “And the sheer quantity,” his eyes flickered to Dahyun, “will be overwhelming compared to what she’s had until now.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” Chaeyoung frowned. 

“Just as love will surround fear,” Dahyun nodded, “feeling too much may force those gaps to close."

Sana was grateful to hear the certainty in Dahyun’s voice, but it still wasn’t joined with ‘will’, only ‘could’. 

An if is the same as a might or a maybe.

Was this worth it? Was it worth going back people who doubted if Dahyun was innocent or not? 

Etera’s voice brought her from her thoughts. The air even smelled sharper. Like forests, but with an edge to them, as though a storm were brewing in the distance. Was that focus? “It is all uncertain, yes, but that means slim possibilities must be considered legitimate.” Her now bright blue eyes met each of theirs. “No one knew that someone could be saved from drowning in emotions,” she winced at her own words, “and no one knows what follows being saved.” 

“No one knows if a vampire can survive being catapulted into space,” Tzuyu said. “Doesn’t mean any of us are gonna volunteer for the next space expedition.”

The fairy’s purple brow rose. “This is no test of life or death. It’s an attempt to get a better life, rather be left with one soured.”

“Soured?” Jeongyeon repeated. 

“Time doesn’t seem to be a remedy for this,” Dahyun said. “I've been able to ignore it, but not always." 

“And when do you feel it?” Sana asked. Her suspicions had been proven right. Dahyun wasn’t going to heal from this. They wouldn’t be able to help her. The hope for her recovery was only that: a hope.

“In the quieter moments.” Her lips twitched downwards. The disappointment wasn’t only in the air now. Sana could see it in her eyes. She wished she could give her the emotions needed to erase that look. 

“But if it’s never happened before.” Momo looked between the three fairies, her gaze was insistent. Hopeful. Finally. “You were able to get back from the fear and you slowly came back to yourself after you escaped,” she said. “How do you know you won’t heal normally?”

“They don’t.” The elves were here. “We do.” 

Momo raised a brow. “But these're emotions.” 

Yves nodded. “Spirits are connected to individuals. We don’t know if they’re that person or just tied to something more random, but,” she shrugged, “they're made up of emotions?” She looked to Etera then. 

“Nowhere near as complex as you or I,” the fairy said. “But some have as many, or more, emotions than certain animals.” She smiled as she took the rest of them in. “That part isn’t important for you to know.”

“I’d disagree,” Chuu’s bottom lip jutted out, “but what you must know now is that we’ve unintentionally come to know more of Darie’s state.” She winked at the fairy in question. “And a few things we already knew when she was the wee age of a human elder.”

Dahyun’s brow rose then. Orange humour joined the doubt. Sana was happy to see how her spirits could still be lifted. She was grateful to the elves for being a reason for it. 

“What we see is the darkness,” Yves said. “Negative emotions and the lack of any. It doesn't fade unless there’s enough light.” She looked to each of them. “And we’ve had people be affected with the same darkness that’s in Darie.”

“But then good emotions are the light part,” Mina said. “With time more of those come naturally, right?” She looked at Dahyun then. 

“They’ll help with the fear and grief,” Olivia replied. “But not the emptiness.” Black eyes fell to the floor, avoiding theirs. “It can only disappear when given the light that matches it.” 

The way the elf spoke. There was a familiarity in her voice. Sana was reminded of her scent and how there was another dimension to it. Was that the darkness? 

“You don’t know how darkness works,” Olivia frowned, “not in that way. It swallows what it can and tends to grow.” Finally, she met their eyes. Specifically Sana’s. “You’re not meant to understand it. I’d rather no one had to, but you must believe that time is no solution. Not for this.” 

Sana wanted to ask her how she knew that, but this was an explanation she understood. It was one that bared truths speaker would rather bury, but had to admit. The act of admission itself strained the person’s limits. Asking a question would mean asking them to break through those limits again. And one had to know when to press, but also when to spare them of that. Sana knew this was the latter. 

Olivia smiled then, as if she knew Sana wouldn't push her. “But there’s more reason to have faith than not,” she said. “It’s the reason we didn’t make her stay with us when she wanted to leave.” 

Those words resonated in Sana’s head. Had they also been reluctant to let her go? Had they also felt her absence like they had?

“Now that you've decided to go,” Chuu said. “You’re brighter.” She glanced at them. “Meaning she’s got a better chance of being alright. Or better.”

“Or better?” Nayeon repeated. 

“The future isn’t certain,” Yves replied. “But the sense we get from it isn’t one of unease.” Her brow rose. “And that’s better than being fully uncertain, wouldn’t you say?”

Chuu interjected before any of them could respond. “I know it doesn’t sound reassuring. It takes years to make peace with that side of things, but one does learn.”

Yves’ eyes grew thoughtful then. Sana couldn’t think of a reason why. 

“It isn’t something you’d have to concern yourselves with before, nor do you really need to now,” Chuu told them, a small smile appearing. “I can only say that you must trust that this decision is the right one.” She met Sana’s eyes then. 

Sana wished she didn’t have to believe them. She wished there could be someone else to tell her that Dahyun would be fine without having to put herself at risk. But they only had those who told them the opposite. Even the person at the heart of the issue said they had to risk it. 

Someone spoke before the rest of them did. Dahyun. 

“We’ll be leaving today,” she said. “I’d prefer to go by myself, but I know none of you would allow that.”

Jeongyeon snorted. “Got that right.”

“But not all of you may come.” Her grey and blue eyes went to Sana’s. “A large number would be taken as more a threat than anything else.” She pursed her lips. “A vampire being among them in the first place will already unsettle them.” 

“But we’re not exactly that threatening,” Chaeyoung pointedly looked at Etera, “trust me, I already got that.” 

“You’d still send the wrong message,” Etera replied. “And you are still faster and physically stronger than most.”

“There's another reason why I’d prefer you not to be there,” Dahyun said. Her eyes held a warning. “Because you may be outraged by what they say. You’ll also see someone who I know you hate.” 

“I thought Rila was in hiding.” Tzuyu looked to Gerst. 

“She was not among our clan. And I could neither find her nor the ones who had come to you,” he replied. There was a tension to his voice. His eyes had gotten a sheen of red to them. “But she’ll be there. As will Yrest. It is where all will be decided.” 

And that meant Rila and Yrest could be excused from what they did. The prospect filled Sana with disgust and rage. 

The scent of forests filled the room. It quelled some of the unrest within Sana, but not fully. Sana doubted that those feelings could ever fade. She’d only seen them for a brief moment in time, but she hated them. 

“And none of you can act on your emotions,” Dahyun said softly. “You will not kill her, nor will you even try to hurt either of them.”

Sana’s head flooded with questions and protests. Just the thought of Rila filled her head with possibilities of how she could make her feel powerless. She wanted Rila to experience what Dahyun had. 

She could see that others felt the same. 

“And just like that, rage and hatred flow through all of you,” Dahyun continued. “It makes no difference to them if you feel it or not, but if you act on it, they wouldn’t hesitate to stop you.”

Or kill you. Those were the unspoken words. 

“Too much death has happened already,” Dahyun said. “Execution is out of the question for any of us, but your lives will not be seen as having the same value.” The words were cold, but Sana felt the pain that saying them caused her. Because Dahyun was convinced the fairies would kill them. She was probably right too. That didn’t make it any better. 

None of the fairies said anything more, neither did the elves. They were just looking at them expectantly. It was time for them to choose who was going. 

“Sana and Momo will go,” Jihyo said. “And either Tzuyu or Nayeon.” Her expression was hard. Already decided. Had she expected this? Sana wouldn’t have been surprised. “And even if that’s too many, three of us are going with you.” She levelled a hard look at Dahyun. 

The fairy held her gaze, but Sana felt a degree of shyness now. Some uncertainty as well. Jihyo could have that effect on people. No matter if they were older or technically more powerful. 

“Too many,” Dahyun said. 

“You can be glad it’s not a no,” Olivia muttered. 

“You’re all acting like we can’t decide this stuff for ourselves,” Nayeon frowned, “but a couple decisions were already made without our approval, so the same thing’s gonna happen here.” She shot Dahyun a pointed look. Sana felt the fairy’s embarrassment, as well as some shame. 

Sana knew there’d been a reason for Dahyun giving them the sadness, for her coming to help them, and for her not fighting Yrest and Rila properly. That didn’t mean any of those decisions had been the right ones. 

“I'm not going,” Tzuyu said. “I don’t think I'd be able to.” Her eyes flickered blue. They weren't silver. Not anymore. 

Nayeon nodded. “So it’ll be you two and me,” she clasped her hands, “when’re we leaving?”

“Now,” Gerst replied. 

“Now?” Momo repeated. 

“Can we keep the car here?” Chuu asked. 

“Sure.” Jihyo raised a brow. “Why?”

“We’re your guides,” she chimed. “So gather whatever blood reserves you need,” Chuu clasped her hands together, “and food for the rest of us.”

“Guides?” Momo repeated. “For what?” She looked at Gerst. “You know how to get us there, don’t you?” She glanced back at the elves. “But if you’re coming with us, that’s good too.” She looked embarrassed. 

“We’ll be getting you there,” Yves replied. “A more direct route.”

“Teleportation?” Mina’s eyes were alight with interest. 

“Not quite so exciting,” Chuu grinned, “it’s a longer process. And you’ll still have to walk a fair amount.”

“Won’t that take too long?” Nayeon asked. 

“Yes and no,” Olivia took Dahyun’s hand and nodded to Gerst, “but there’s little chance that these two would manage a plane or the train.”

"Not in an eternal lifetime," Gerst muttered. 

______

“Alright,” Chuu turned, “lie down.” Though the night was dark, her skin cast them all in a silvery-white glow. 

“Now now,” Yves laughed, “we only just met them.” 

Yellow seeped into the air as Chuu dropped her gaze to the forest floor. 

“If you insist.” Sana winked. 

The yellow only strengthened, but they all lay down. Dahyun could sense their confusion again. She’d let what happened now speak for itself. Even so, she let the tranquility in the air strengthen. This would be something they’d appreciate more if not completely nervous about the unknown. 

Chuu was drawing the crescent around them with an elongated spear. 

“Moonlight does this too?” Nayeon asked. “That’s a lot.”

“It focuses the energy,” Chuu replied. “Rather than taking absolutely everything from us.” The spear disappeared. She lay down beside Dahyun. 

“You’ll get excitement when we get there,” Dahyun said. "To help." 

She laughed. “Wonderful.”

Yves took over then. Her glow subsiding as she did. Once she was done, she went to Chuu’s other side. They split the burden of the magic so that none of them would be drained completely. 

The pointed object Olivia used looked more like a stake. It had threads of grey and black along its shaft. 

“It’ll feel very strange,” Yves said. “I don’t think you’ll get sick, but if you do, make sure it’s on the ground and not on us.” 

Nayeon let out a soft cackle. “Now you’ve given me a target."

“Good luck with that.” Olivia’s stake disappeared and she sat just at the edge of the sigil. Its edges glowed. 

Dahyun could feel the tension of the magic. It made her stomach twist. She closed her eyes. 

Then there was a crackling in the air, as though a stone was slowly being crushed. 

The ground below her became soft, as though it had become cloth. Slowly, her body began to sink into it. This sort of transport was a process that required time. . 

And then Dahyun had been pulled under. There was no light. The sound of stone disappeared, replaced by that of rustling. 

Travelling through the earth in this way never felt like falling. It felt as if she were sinking into water, but never got wet. She knew she could move, but had never wanted to. 

She only felt the emotions of the others. The initial alarm of the vampires had faded, but they were still unnerved. Dahyun hardly remembered the first time she’d experienced such a thing. There were few who properly learned it. It was thought to be a slight to a fairy's way of life, which it could be. That was until the route took you across oceans or over mountains too dangerous to cross. 

Then the feeling of sinking turned into one of floating. Dahyun noted the change as a slow tilt of her body. There were times when it was a lurch, as if a force had taken hold of your body and tossed you into the air. Those were the sickening transitions. Which transition it was appeared to be random. 

The sound of the ground shifting above them filled Dahyun’s ears. Then another series of cracking noises followed. It faded quickly. The sounds of birds calling to one another followed. Other than that, it was silent. It was day here. And it was warm. Very warm. 

Then someone retched. Another began to cough. 

Dahyun sat up. The world spun around her. Her hands shot to the ground, hoping to find purchase there. But the soil was loose. She found no hold. 

The dizziness washed over her. She lay back down. 

“I would’ve liked walking better,” Nayeon said in a hoarse voice. 

“Told you it wasn’t exciting,” Olivia said between coughs. “It’s never smooth for me.” Her eyes drooped. They had no glow anymore.

“Then why do it?”

“We prefer it to your normal transportation.” Dahyun slowly got to her feet. Fighting this dizziness was always better. 

“Really?” Momo gave her a look. Her eyes were slightly cross-eyed. “Is it that bad?” 

“Your planes are horrible deathtraps,” she said. “And cars are untrustworthy.” 

“This,” Nayeon pointed at the ruined soil, “is the weirdest thing I’ve ever had happened to me.”

“This is the strangest?” Yves grinned. She’d had it easy this time, but her eyes were a dull red. “You still have much to see.” 

“Don’t start that youth thing with me,” Nayeon lifted a finger, “not now.” Her hands went to her temples. “I’m running back.”

“That may be a bit difficult,” Gerst said. “Unless you’re able to walk along water.”

“We crossed continents?” Sana asked. “How long did it take? Actually?” The trip didn’t seem to have affected her as it had the others. 

“Three hours,” Olivia replied. “I think.” 

“And where’re we exactly?” Momo looked at the trees. They had massive trunks. 

“We’re on that very large island. The one with a great amount of nature, very varied.”

“Australia?” Nayeon frowned. 

“I’d think so?” Olivia glanced at Dahyun. 

She could only shrug. She hadn’t known they’d come to this part of the world. Did they find it more isolated? 

“Will there be another?” Sana asked. She stood beside Dahyun. Her hand was outstretched, either to balance herself or help Dahyun do that. 

“The rest’ll be walking,” Yves said. “We’ll stay here.” There was absolute certainty in that statement. This was as close as they’d tolerate being to the fae. 

The others seemed to understand as well. 

“Do we still have time?” Nayeon rolled over, leaning her forehead on her hand. 

“It’s unwise to move much immediately after this,” Gerst said. He sat cross-legged, eyes closed. “We’ll eat, rest, and then go.” 

Dahyun went to Nayeon. “It’s better if you leave the area of effect.” She put a hand on shoulder, letting proper calm seep out. It didn’t make the dizziness worse, but she still felt strange wielding emotions this way. 

“Give me a minute.” 

Dahyun looked to Sana, wondering if she’d know what to do next. 

Sana smiled. She hauled Nayeon from the slight crater and placed her at the base of a tree. It had happened in a second, but Nayeon still let out a long whine. Then she opened her eyes. 

“You were right,” Nayeon sighed, “it is better out here.”

Chuu had fallen asleep. Yves gathered her in her arms and came over to them. Dahyun sensed surprise in the vampires then. 

“Is she okay?” Sana asked. 

Yves nodded. “This magic takes a lot out of you.” She set her down. “And it’s only something to do in a group.” 

“When you said three hours,” Nayeon tilted her head towards Olivia, “how exactly does that work?”

“Exactly?” the elf repeated. “No idea.”

“Generally then.”

“The ground swallows us all up,” Olivia said. “At some point we sink in completely, but until then someone’s got to be a guard. Spirits get very brave at that point.” 

“So this isn’t something for a dramatic getaway,” Momo finished. 

She laughed. “Not quite.”

Dahyun brought out three pieces of excitement. She handed them to Yves. The third would be unused until Chuu woke up again. 

Sana had dug out blood bags from her pack. She handed them to the other two. 

“Before those existed,” Yves eyed them, “what did you do?”

“No killing.” Sana’s eyes shone as she drank. “We gave them some healing potion and made them forget.”

“So you found eight humans for such a thing? Each time you were hungry?” Olivia munched on a piece of meat wrapped in lettuce. 

“It’s not as difficult as it sounds,” Nayeon said. “And it wasn’t always eight.” 

“You shared?” Then there was a small wave of embarrassment. “Sorry, we don’t have much to do with vampires. Not really.” Olivia looked slightly ash