DΛY ƬЩΣLVΣ
 

It was just last night that something inside me snapped. As if the rope that tethered me to dad and the way things were back home was broken. I couldn't recognise myself. Couldn't recognise the fear I felt when I stood in Yves' room, couldn't recognise the anger and blistering confusion I felt when I spoke to Jennie. It was alien. I had to have spent hours just sitting there at the post of my bed, staring out into nothing. Even the slightest of movements had my satchel rattling at my side, and it didn't take long for me to practically toss it halfway across the room, frustrated. The pendant rattled so loudly even I couldn't help but cringe. And then there was Yves.


 

I don't pay attention to where the satchel lands. Holding my knees close to my chest I feel the way my throat tightens, constricting as if a closed fist was keeping me from breathing. What was happening to me? Why can't I remember what dad looks like? Why can't I remember what my friends' back in Seoul look like? Why do I feel like I'm not in my own body anymore? Like I'm living a life that isn't my own? Like I'm some kind of intruder in my own body? I spoke to Jennie. And to make matters worse, I didn't know how. Why-

I'm cut from my thoughts when yet another knock sounds at the door. I thought she would've been gone by now, tired of waiting. She must have heard the satchel.

"You are going to need to open this door eventually, Y/N. Please. Please, just talk to me. At least let me know that you are okay."

No... no, why aren't you mad at me?! Why are you still trying?!  My head bangs back against the bed post a third time, my eyes squeezing shut.

Yves' voice carries through the door between us like a low mumble, but somehow I managed to hear it. Just like my vision that seemed to turn twenty-twenty over the course of twelve days, my hearing had improved significantly, too. I can practically hear the way she brushes up against the wood, and I could only begin to imagine the look she wears right now. Or maybe it was just too predictable. Slumped shoulders, tired frown and all. Just the thought alone had me itching to get up. But I never did.

All I could think about in that moment was the pure fear that crossed her eyes when she looked at me in her room-- watching the way my hands sizzled with yellow currents of electricity as if afraid I would hurt her. It would end up plaguing my mind all night, too. In that moment she was scared of me.

I hated to admit that I was scared of me, too. Especially after I spoke to her.



 

But that was last night.

There was something in the air today. Something that felt stiff, a type of uninviting quiet that had chills running up my spine. Something that had my heart dropping in my chest and an ache pronging at my temples, a kind of pain that made me want to stay in bed all day and never get up. But the longer I thought about it, the heavy feeling cementing itself on my chest only managed to get stronger. I didn't want to admit that I knew the feeling all too well. I'd felt it every morning since I woke up here.

It had to have been at least twenty minutes ago that three guards came and escorted me out of my bedroom, hard eyes and all. Every step we took down familiar long hallways felt like an eternity, but I knew it had to have been only minutes-- their fast strides and hurried conversation being indicative enough. We couldn't have been even two hours into the day yet and everyone was already on high alert. Guards marched down the halls in groups of seven, archers positioned like statues at windows, council members being ushered into the throne room alongside me like herds of sheep. I couldn't tell if it was my mind playing tricks on me, but I could've sworn I was being watched. My eyes stayed torn down to the floor beneath me as I mutely followed the three guards. It was only when we turned a particular corner did one of the men turn to face me.

I wasn't sure how I didn't notice before, but a flash of recognition crossed my mind when his dark brown eyes locked on mine. For a moment I let my eyes wonder; his shaggy dark hair was pulled back by some kind of headpiece, his armour glistening under the light pouring in from the windows. His voice carried through the tension like a blade, deep. But despite the way he easily towered over me, there was nothing but softness in his eyes.

I knew better than to fall for it though. Taehyung's face flashed before my eyes for the briefest of seconds and it had a chill running down my spine.

I knew who he was. He was Jungeun's second. The same man that stepped forward all those days ago when the King called on him. All those days ago when Jungeun lost her role as commander, when I was almost exiled. Looking him up and down I notice the familiar red cloth tied around his left forearm, one I'd only ever seen on Jungeun. The commander's ribbon.

If only I remembered his name.

"I hope you are as prepared as her highness has been reassuring, chosen one. I may have my men but the gods know we can not do this alone." He trails off with a hum. "So much responsibility is riding on my shoulders this very day, responsibility I fear I am not equipped to hold."

Chosen one. I almost scoffed. Nonetheless, I stay silent as I listen to him speak. He pauses for the briefest of seconds before pursing his lips with a sigh.

"All my life we have been told that trust is not given, it is earned. For that reason I do not expect you to confide in me, but I speak to you now with honesty because I am afraid. You must tell me what your plan is."

I bit my lip. I didn't know. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, what I was expected to do. I was given twelve days to prepare, twelve days to figure out my powers, to plan a course of action. Instead I spent twelve days fumbling: learning nothing and feeling just as lost as before. When I finally opened my mouth to respond my through felt sore, my voice croaking from a night-long heap of restlessness. The two guards at our sides stayed silent as they listened to us talk, not once giving up their brisk pace as they guided me. I could briefly hear the mute chatter of council members behind us, but I will myself to shut them out. We were almost at the throne room.

"I'm not going to lie. I have no idea what I'm doing." I admitted, cringing at the sound of my own voice.

I knew almost immediately that I said the wrong thing.

I didn't miss the way the two guards faltered besides us, the way they looked between each other uneasy. The commander furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. His reaction was instant.

"That does not make me feel better. I am nervous enough as it is and you seem to have only made it worse."

My eyes blow wide. "S-sorry, you didn't need to hear that right now. I'm just..." I trailed off, digging around for my thoughts. Just what? I didn't think a single word could do the way I felt justice. I felt confused. Scared. Terrified. Useless. Because what am I doing here?

As if noticing my internal dilemma, the man beat me to the chase. His gaze softened, his shoulders deflating. He sighs a second time.

"You are inexperienced. You have not been here before, unlike us." But then his voice drops to a whisper as he digs around for his words, the sudden softness in his tone so alien compared to the heavy sound of his footsteps. "... That is a lie. You are not alone in your doubts."

Confused, I tilted my head. But then I noticed the way his gaze lingered off, the way his attention stayed stuck on something not too far away. Following his gaze I felt my blood run cold. Suddenly his words made sense. One of the window archers fumbled with his bow, his helmet practically falling off his head-- far too big for him. He reminded me of that soldier I saw outside, the boy that looked no older than me. They were kids.

Turning down another corner, I looked back at the man and watched the way his face contorted over a mixture of emotions. As if noticing my stare he snaps out of whatever daze he'd fallen into, quick to elaborate.

"If you were to ask me what I think, I would say it is wrong. It is wrong to put children in this war, to force them to fight. Perhaps the reason I respect Jungeun so much is because I know she would agree. But... but now she is gone. She is gone and I must fill her shoes. And with Jungkook dead, well... I need to fill his too. How am I suppose to lead two armies who are always in conflict? How am I suppose to live with myself knowing that I am leading children to their death?"

I didn't know what to say. I felt speechless, completely and utterly frozen in place. Noticing my silence, he shakes his head and starts over.

"I have not been here before, chosen one. I am no leader."

He wasn't only talking about the children. He was talking about himself, too. He's just like me. Confused. Scared. Stepping into a role he's never had before, stepping into a role that was forced upon him. It doesn't take long for my breath to return to my body, for reality to catch up to me. Clearing my throat, I whisper-- loud enough for him to hear.

"You and me both."

I knew what he meant. And somehow, when he levels me with those knowing eyes, I could tell he felt it too. We understood each other.

Before anything else could be said our conversation was cut short when we finally reached the throne room. Only, unlike the many times I'd been there before, it was different. Usually reserved and quiet, the room now bustled with life: soldiers positioned at every nook and cranny. The guards at the door gave us a quick once over then, noticing the Commander, let us in. My eyes were quick to take everything in. Men clad in heavy armour filing in and out of the room with their speers clutched in tight grips, the sounds of swords unsheathing and metal against metal consuming the room. It's only when the last council member enters do the doors shut firmly behind us, probing eyes watching our every move. I supposed this was exactly what they'd trained for. In that moment the guards had never looked so ready. So prepared, so willing to fight. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat.

I wish I could say the same.

But then I saw it. Dragging my eyes away from the herds of guards (I couldn't even begin to count them all-- I was surprised this room could house so many people) it didn't take long until they landed on a familiar podium. One I'd seen before all those days ago when the overseer called for me and Yves. The podium usually surrounded by statues, the podium usually separated by a door held shut by bolts and locks. The podium that lit up in some kind of ethereal glow under the orb on its surface, electricity ricocheting like bullets off its chiselled glory. I knew what it was immediately. The sphere.

So they followed through on their plan after all. I couldn't help but watch wide-eyed and all as the sphere's blues, purples and greens radiated from its place on the podium. I knew I wasn't alone in my ogling. Through the corner of my eyes I noticed the lingering gazes, the wide eyes and parted lips. I could hear its sentient hum, could hear the way it sparks as if reacting to the simplest of movements. Now that I thought about it, maybe Yves was right. Maybe it was much better safe here than there-- there where Taehyung would find it in just three seconds. They wouldn't expect this.

Then again I couldn't seem to brush the uneasy feeling that washes over me. So many people in one room...

When one of the guards noticed my dazed stare, his reaction was instant. Narrowing his eyes into slits he grunted, gravelling the hilt of his spear in warning. He didn't need to tell me twice. I dart my eyes away a second later. I wasn't sure when the Commander drifted from my side, when I was left standing alone in the middle of the room, but for a moment I couldn't help but just freeze. Couldn't help but just press pause, letting my mind finally catch up to things. It didn't take long for realisation to cement itself, for my nerves to wrack at my body ten times harder. It was finally time.

The waiting game was over, twelve days gone. In that moment my thoughts raced through my mind like a mess of scrambles, itching to make sense of things. Being in this room had memories of my nightmare two days ago flashing through my vision, debilitating. Something about the council-members all being conjugated in this one room-- the throne room-- had my heart dropping in my chest.

The memory of dead bodies, frightened faces. It was making me sick.

 

And then there was her.

Her: the girl my eyes drifted towards whenever we were in the same room. The girl I gravitated towards like a moth to a flame. But today... today it was different. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I didn't notice Yves sooner. My mind was running rampant, consumed by everything and nothing all at the same time. It felt like so much was happening all at once and the day had barely even begun. So when the feeling of daggers being stared into the side of my head turned suffocating, I made the mistake of looking up. There she was.

My gaze instantly locked with a pair of familiar chocolate browns that seemed to wash over with relief the moment she saw me, her back straightening. I almost felt stupid. Because despite all the people crowded in this one room, in this moment it felt like we were alone. Like it was just me and her-- like we were seeing each other for the very first time after years of radio silence. The feeling of a shoulder brushing harshly against mine not even a second later had me snapping out of it, however. And with it came reality. The reality of what happened last night, the reality of what I did to her. A metallic, sickly feeling raised to my senses in an instant. I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to talk to her about last night. Wasn't ready to answer her questions, to deal with her disappointment. So I looked back down.

I shuffled my way towards her with my eyes torn to the ground beneath me. Through my peripheral I didn't miss the way she opened and closed several times, words clearly on the tip of her tongue just waiting to be said-- but none fell. She stayed silent. So did I.

 

That was twenty minutes ago. Now I stand still with my hands held together in front of me, quiet. Even as chatter breaks out around me, guards pacing about with tense shoulders and clenched jaws, my mind races-- darting from topic to topic until a deep sigh slips from my lips.

The sound of a particularly loud shout has me tearing back to reality and I can't help but flinch. I'd been too caught up in my own thoughts that I tuned out the world around me. My eyes snap up and land on an unfamiliar woman, her hands raised to the air, a frazzled look etched across her matured features.

 

"What about my house? When can I return?!"

The woman's question seems to ignite a chain reaction, the other council members stepping forward with wide eyes not even a second later.

"Or my animals?!"

"My money!"

"Are you sure we will be safe here?!"

 

As a long sigh slips from the Queen's lips I can't stop the pity that wracks at my body. I didn't know how she was doing it. How she was managing to keep a strong façade despite everything that was happening, how she managed to stay so patient. She purses her lips together for the quickest of seconds as if considering her words, and then sighs once more.

"I am afraid to admit that I do not have the answers you are all seeking. I do not know what is to come of us today, what is to come of your belongings, of your wealth. But I do know one thing. We have a chance in this war, and we will keep fighting."

Her answer doesn't seem to satisfy them. As soon as she finishes her sentence the uproar begins once more, questions flying over our heads like a cacophony of sound. It's then I decide to stop listening. Just the sound of their shrill voices was enough to have a headache pronging at my temples. Instead, I let my eyes wonder for an nth time. My feet seem to carry me as if they have a mind of their own, and within an instant I'm pushing through bodies and ignoring nasty glares as I make way for the nearest window.

Resting my forearms on the ledge I peer out and into the kingdom below. Within an instant a ball forms in my throat, anxious. A few days ago they would have just looked like little ants. Like dots, miniscule objects. But now that I could see clearer, now that my eyes take it all in-- there's no mistaking what I see. Men. A lot of them.

Men in familiar golden embroidered armour litter the courtyard in what looks like rows of four, standing deathly still. It was the royal army. They stare out into the shoreline and continued for miles. But where were the people? The village-folk? ... If the army is there, would they be in the middle of it? If-

 

"You are avoiding me."

 

I almost jumped. I can't stop the way the baby-hairs on the back of my neck raise, a chill running up my spine when a familiar voice hushes against my cheek. Noticing my stare out the window, she joins me, a deep hum slipping from her lips. I was surprised I didn't notice her approach me. As if reading my mind, she whispers-- quiet but loud enough for me to hear her. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I could've sworn she hesitated. It was almost as if she was afraid she would scare me away.

"The people have been evacuated. Last night while we were sleeping. Those who complied, at least. Those who didn't, well..." Yves trails off, her voice falling impossibly quieter. My back is her but I can just picture the way she bites the inside of her cheek. "Let us hope the war does not come knocking on their doors."

Nothing but silence follows. Her words hang through the air and I'm absentmindedly nodding my head, toying with my fingers over the ledge where her eyes can't see.

For a moment we just stand in an awkward silence. People bustle about around us and yet, somehow, it was just us: me and her. I almost laughed. I could've sworn I've been in a situation like this before. Like that time in eighth grade when we were playing basketball in gym class-- I never realised until that moment my aim was terrible. The ball didn't get anywhere close to the net. Instead it bounced off some little girls head and when she turned to see who did it, I ran, played it coy. Pretended like I was doing something else, because 'what are you talking about I've been over here this whole time!'. That's what this moment reminded me of. Me, staring out the window like something had caught my interest. Her, waiting for me to crack even a sound.

It felt childish. I felt childish.

"Y/N, I-" She starts, only to stop herself short a second later. Through my peripheral I watch the way she opens and closes , digging around for her words. I feel the way my heart drops in my chest almost immediately. Feel the way my palms grow clammy, the way my hands squeeze together now as I anticipate the worst. She's going to confront me, right? Ask what the hell happened last night in her room? But instead she huffs.

"Must you push me away and shut me out like so? To think not even mere days ago you confronted me for doing the same. I believe it is unfair."

Despite the truth behind her words, I couldn't help but scoff a laugh.

"'Funny to see you as worked up as you left me. Maybe it's karma."

I'm the one that said it and even I know that was uncalled for. I purse my lips almost immediately and spare her a look. Why was I being so.. rude? I don't miss the way she clenches her jaw for the briefest of seconds, the way her eyebrow quirks up the slightest of centimetres. When she doesn't respond I knew that I took it too far. She was just trying to talk and I was being an . Sighing, I pick my hands back up from the window ledge and turn to face her. Still not meeting her eyes, I sigh, bringing my voice to a whisper loud enough that only we could hear.

"I'm sorry. You don't deserve that."

Humming, she steps closer so she's kneeling against the window sill. Looking out into the courtyard I can't help but follow her vision, standing in silence with her. Several seconds pass before she breaks it, hesitant.

"It is the first thing you have said to me since last night. I hate to admit that you could have yelled at me and I still would have been relieved to hear your voice."

The smallest of smiles tips the corner of her lips but it's gone as quick as it came when she snaps her eyes to meet mine, probing. This time I can't find it within myself to look away. She whispers.

"Please, do not-"

And then she's stopped. She's interrupted halfway through her sentence when the sound of guards stomping their feet in a collective chant and some kind of shrill blowhorn pierces through the room. Turning around to see what was happening, we watch as the guards form around the Queen, ready to take i