For the second time today a pang of realisation struck me to my very core: other people had more control over my actions than I had over myself.

 

Just like staring into a lightbulb a second too long, or like a phones flashlight going off so close in front of my face that it left me seeing black dots, my eyes tightly shut to fend off the impending headache threatening to prong at my temples. For the briefest of moments my vision goes white, all sounds falling on deaf ears. When they finally open, slow and hesitant, I can't ignore the way my stomach drops when I realise I'm no longer in the temple. Looking around I no longer see the overseers body, hole ripped through the centre of his chest. I no longer see Olivia's frazzled frame, her tired eyes and worried frown. Instead I'm standing in the middle of the palace's courtyard. Like when Taehyung pushed me through the portal, I can't help but panic.

"No... no, not again!" My words fall from my lips in an aggravated cry. I was sick of this feeling. Sick of not being in control, of waking up in random places. Dropping to my knees I give the ground an angry punch, so hard that the concrete surface grazed my knuckle. A wince tears from the back of my throat almost immediately and I fight the urge of giving myself a slap in the head. Trust me to not use my brain first. Gently running a thumb over the small graze I ignore the sickly feeling that cements itself in my stomach when a trail of blood threatens to fall. Only, I'm caught by surprise for the nth time today when it doesn't. Instead it does the opposite.

For a moment I almost convinced myself I was imagining it. Because injuries don't heal that quickly! They don't just close up as delicately as a rip in jeans would be by a skilled tailor! But of course, here I was. Cradling a knuckle that seemed to be patching itself up as easily as it was harmed. In just a matter of seconds the graze had completely disappeared, replaced by untouched skin-- not even a scar to show for it.

Now I definitely knew something was up. (As if I didn't realise before.)

But before I can dwell on it, the sound of a twig breaking not too far away from me has my head snapping up. It's only now I'm able to take a good look at my surroundings. The world felt vignetted, somehow. Like I was seeing it through the lens of an old camera. Tracing the source of the sound I notice a lingering maid picking at flowerbeds, the same ones Yves showed me all those days ago when we sat under her large apple-tree. Without wasting another second, I pull myself back to my feet. Taking a breath I call out to the woman.

"Excuse me?" I wasn't sure how I didn't notice it before. My voice carries through the air like a loud echo and I can't help but furrow my eyebrows. An echo? Staring the maid down I wait for her to turn, to acknowledge me, anything! But she doesn't. Something was happening and I didn't like it, not one bit. Trying again, I walk closer towards her.

"H-hello?" I reach out a hand to tap her shoulder only to pull it back into my body not even a second later. At that exact moment the maid stands to her feet and turns on her heel, walking straight in my direction. I readied myself for impact, readied myself to let out a strain of hurried apologies. But instead, she goes through me.

For a moment I could've sworn I felt it. Could've sworn I felt the tickle of her hair against my face, her body colliding with mine. But it didn't happen. She couldn't hear me, feel me. Hell, she couldn't even see me!

What the hell is happening?

To my fortune, I didn't need to question it for long.

"You are ready to remember."

I could recognise that voice anywhere. The overseer.
Turning to face the man I don't bother hiding my shock and confusion, and I could only begin to imagine the look on my face right now. Wide eyes, parted lips. I open and close my mouth several times trying desperately to dig around for my words. I settle with an unbelieving huff, looking him up and down.

"Wha-- you're alive?! Where are we?!"

Unlike his battered and bruised body that lied against the floors of his temple only moments ago, he stands still-- just as I remembered him. He was tidy, his hair no longer unkempt, his face clean from stubble. He looked exactly as he did the first day I met him. None of this is making any sense.. As if knowing what I was thinking, the man hums-- tearing me from my thoughts.

"Do not let my appearance mistake you, my child. It would seem I have met my reckoning but it is not yet my time to leave. I have a mission, Y/N, and you are at its crux." Again with the riddles... Some part of me believed that over time it would stop, that he would talk in basic so I would understand him. But I was wrong. I guess habits never changed even for dead men, after all. But before I can question him he continues.

"I know you have questions, but for you to accept my answers you must open your mind. Tell me... you have noticed we are somewhere else entirely, yes? We stand still as the world moves around us but it is only we who see them. They walk passed as if we are invisible, intangible."

At that exact moment another maid walks through my body but this time I don't jump as high as I did before. He hums a second time. He had his answer.

"In my cell those days ago I showed you the bridge that tethers your reality to mine in its purest form, but here I show you its secrets. Outside of this bridge I live no longer but it is its essence that is keeping me alive. Just as I serve the purpose of delivering you truth, this bridge serves to give you peace. If only you will accept it, that is."

I wanted to snap. It almost felt like a never ending cycle; him rambling in those god awful riddles why I stand stupidly and try to make sense of his words. Some part of me felt angry. Because why did he need to make it so difficult? Why did he make it harder than it already was? Why couldn't he just tell me what was happening without making some grand spectacle out of it? Nonetheless, I knew better than to say something now. It wasn't the time.

If I understood his words as well as I thought I did, he was dead. Like some kind of figment of my imagination he stands before me now in the form I remember him as. Young, reliable. His words finally catch up to me and I release the breath I didn't know I'd been holding. With a newfound sense of confidence I snap out of my daze and fumble through my words.

"I accept."

He doesn't waste a second longer.

"Then it is time."

And then it happens. In an instant I feel the way my body jolts backwards, a sensation so akin to a dozen hands prodding at my body being the only thing I felt before I lost all feeling in my limbs. Out of instinct my eyes snapped shut once more, just waiting for the inevitable bad that was sure to happen. But it ever came. So I force them back open.

It doesn't take me long to realise I'm no longer in my own body. Or at least, that's what it felt like. I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. I couldn't even open my mouth to breathe through it. I wanted to call out to him, to demand answers-- but I didn't need to. I couldn't see the overseer any longer but there's no mistaking his voice as it rings through my mind.

"Live the life you lost, my child. Every thought, every word... once they were yours and yours alone."

What... what is he talking about? He waits a beat before settling on a single word, one that had butterflies erupting in my stomach and my mind reeling with curiosity.

 

"Remember."

 

That's all I needed. Like a key designed for its own intrinsic lock, or a neurotransmitter which binds to its specific receptor-- the overseers word seems to set off a chain reaction in my mind. In an instant images flashes before my eyes, ones I didn't know I even had. He told me to remember.

And so I do.

 

At a lunar eclipse, the shadow of the Earth falls across the face of the Moon bringing unconscious feelings to the surface, grounding them in reality. Through this shadow brings revelations. It brings peace and clarity.

The shadow reveals things hidden in our subconscious that prevent us from seeing clearly.

The 𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐄 was just beginning.




 

Flowers. Mixtures of whites, pinks, reds, blues and greens. Everywhere I walked they seemed to follow me. I never could see the appeal in them. Even in my nine-year-old mind I only ever saw them as objects which would leave me sneezing several months around each year. Vases decorated with spring primrose's seemed to have me itching at my skin like a feral dog would its fleas.

For that reason I always wondered why the Queen was so obsessed with them.

With each step I took through the castle it almost felt like I was walking into the gates of one big garden. Hand painted frames of gardenias littered the halls in tidy masses, walls patterned in the most beautiful of dandelions and swans illuminated by the light which poured in from windows and skylights. As much as I hated to admit it, they worked in tandem. They made the castle look all the more elegant than it already did, complimenting its gold ts.

Once upon a time I thought it was a little too much. That it was suffocating, annoying, even. Because what nine year old wanted to wake up and see the same thing everyday? What nine year old wanted to be coerced into gardening when they could be out exploring? (exploring little of what overbearing parents were willing to provide, but still!)

But of course, as things would have it when we're young, it didn't take me long to reconsider.

 

I wasn't sure how long mother and father were inside that room. When they dragged me out of bed that morning for some quote un-quote "important meeting" with the royal family, I half expected to be dragged along with them. Instead here I was: waiting impatiently outside the door with two guards at my side. Even as I paced back and forth in front of the door I could feel their probing eyes watching my every move, but not once did they peep a sound. They watched me so closely that I could've sworn even the faintest of fidgets wouldn't go unnoticed. After a moment I huffed through my cheeks.

"Pleeaaase, can we do something fun?" My voice pierced through the air so suddenly that I didn't miss the way one of them flinched. The two men looked down at me soundlessly and ignored my question. Offended, I jabbed one of them in the side.

"Pleeease?!"

Unable to stay quiet any longer, the taller of the two peered down at me with a shake of his head. Despite the softness in his tone there was no ignoring the aggravated tip of his lips, his dwindled patience slowly etching across his face.

"I am sorry, child, but we must wait for your parents. We must not leave this door."

Huffing, I gave the floor a stubborn kick. Child. Yes I was nine, but how dare call me a child?! I'll show him--

Before I could peep a sound of protest, he starts over. It was almost as if he knew what was on my mind without needing to ask. Maybe my face gave it away, the way it surely shrivelled up in protest. Nonetheless, he's quick to recover. Kneeling down so we were at eye level he looks between the door, his partner, then finally back at me before settling with a sigh.

"Three minutes. You may leave for three minutes but only if I accompany you. Is that understood?"

"Yes!" A triumphant grin crossed my lips almost immediately and I could've sworn the hint of a smile graced his. But there was no way to tell, his face washing stoic not even a second later. Giving his partner one last firm look, he stands to his feet. That was all I needed.

I barely gave him enough time to realise what was happening before I took off down the hall, quick in my strides. So long ers! Especially you, door! I could hear the guard shouting out after me to "come back!" but I ignore it, letting my legs carry me as fast as they would. I knew I was being a pain, that the moment my parents found out I ran off without them I would get in big trouble-- but I couldn't find it within myself to care. All my life so far I felt like I was being coddled. Guarded at all times. Sometimes I wondered if this was how the princess felt. I wouldn't blame her for her recklessness if she did, but that was a story for another time.

In just a second I was drawn from my thoughts when a particularly loud "get that child!" resounded through the air, so loud it had me cringing. Looking left and right I tried desperately to think of an escape-- anything! And then I saw it. The last place anyone would expect me. Thinking about it even made me itch.
Making a curt turn to my left, I dart through the open archway that lead straight into the familiar castle courtyard.

Little had I known at the time this simple decision would mean the world to me.

Only when I was sure I was out of sight and securely hidden within the garden, I let myself breathe. Doubling over I huffed, my senses slowly coming back to me. When they finally do, however, the last thing I expected was the sight that welcomed me when I let my eyes wonder.

I never understood the appeal behind flowers. Never understood why people thought they were so beautiful, why the castle was practically covered in their essence. Looking around the garden, however, I couldn't stop the way my breath hitched in my throat. The first thing I noticed was the butterflies. Like the lightest of feathers they drifted through the air in their serene glory, weaving in and out between the greenest of hedges and vibrant of maple trees. Sunflowers and daffodils swayed slowly in the wind, the sound of running water oddly soothing against my ears. And then I heard it. The sound of a familiar voice calling out to me has a gasp tearing out of my mouth, my body quick to react.

 

"Are your parents aware you are here?"


 

Turning to face the figure I readied myself to take off again, half a second away from running for my life. For a moment I thought the guards had caught up to me. Or worse, maybe I wasn't supposed to be out here and I was seconds away from getting in trouble! Lowe and behold, the last thing I expected when I looked up and met a pair of warm brown eyes was the equally kind smile that accompanied them. I knew who she was immediately. I freeze.

The Queen.

Even in my nine-year-old glory (note the sarcasm) I immediately rushed to offer the woman an awkward bow, a lopsided grin fighting its way across my frazzled face. I didn't miss the way she raised her hand to and chuckled behind it for the briefest of seconds, but it was gone as quick as it came when she offered me a bow back-- much to my surprise. Lowering herself until we were at eye-level I fight the urge of looking down at my feet when she offers me a curious smile.

"It is alright, my dear, you need not bow. Although your mother and father must be very pleased to have raised you so kind."

Kind. Pfft. Nonetheless, if only I knew what I looked like in that very moment. I was sure my cheeks flushed red, the tips of my ears matching them not even half a second later. Stammering, I mumbled the first thing that came to my mind.

"I... I am not supposed to talk to strangers."

The woman doesn't bother masking her chuckle this time. Nodding her head, she hums.

"As you should not. I must ask, however, what is your name?"

For a moment I hesitate. Do I tell her? I mean, she's sure to find out eventually anyway, right? I couldn't imagine many things got passed a woman like her... With a newfound sense of confidence I puff out my chest.

"Y/N."

In an instant her face changes. For a moment I wondered if I did anything wrong. Did I spit in her face? Does my breath stink? But then I notice the way her eyes widen, the way her face washes over with recognition. (I definitely didn't realise it at the time but I did now as I looked back at it.) Before I could question it, however, I'm stopped. From over her shoulder I notice the way a familiar figure bolted passed the archway I came through only moments prior. The guards were still looking for me. With a shake of my head I look up at the woman and practically beg. "Please do not send me back yet!"

For a moment she looked confused. Like she wanted to ask what had me so concerned all of a sudden. But then, as if noticing what caught my attention, she seems to catch on almost immediately. Within a heartbeat she's turning back to me with knowing eyes and an idea on the tip of her tongue.

 

"I believe I may have an idea in mind."

 

_


 

Those were the last words I heard before the day suddenly took a turn for the worse.

 

Sooyoung. We were only nine but she was already a pain in the . To be fair, so was I. It was a match made in hell.

When I first saw her I thought she was pretty. Dancing along the tulips in the garden, maids rushing after her to get her to stop prancing on their rosemary bushes. But she didn't care. Her long brown hair fluttered behind her like the butterflies above her head, only unlike them, her eyes swam with mischief. It was only when her mother called out to her from over the hedge did she stop her rampage, but it was already too late. Grass stained her white shoes and the bottom of her silk dress, twigs and flower stems jabbing into its woven material like jagged thorns. When her mother peered around the corner and finally saw what caused the commotion, her face washed over pale. I thought it was funny.

"Sooyoung!"

The little girl looked up at her mother with those big eyes, feigning innocence. If it wasn't for the maids hollering over their tarnished garden or the trail of small footsteps that lead directly to her, maybe she could've gotten away with it. The perfect crime. But of course, she didn't.

The Queen crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at her daughter in disappointment. Sooyoung, however, merely grinned. When she noticed my much smaller frame lingering off to the side of her mother, however, her grin instantly washed from her face.

Following her daughters gaze the Queen sprung into action. Lightly tapping my shoulder and gesturing me forward I awkwardly offered the girl a weak bow. All she did was stare blankly.

"Sooyoung, this is Y/N. I trust you will stop your mayhem to say hello." The Queen's voice was soft, inviting. Even in my nine year old mind I could detect the nerves in her voice, the way she looked between the two of us as if afraid her daughter would bite my head off. To her surprise however, and frankly mine, Sooyoung gave me a toothy grin.

"Hello."

The first ever words she spoke to me. Simple, but to me it meant something. I didn't expect her voice to sound so soft. To sound so sweet, innocent. So, against every nerve in my body, I smile back. She was the princess. The daughter of his and her royal highness. It wasn't often she was seen around the halls of the grand castle, but when she was, it usually never was for anything good. Like that time I caught an unusually frazzled King's knight chasing her down the hallways, his face washed over with panic. He was a thirty-something year old man up against a nine year old girl. Safe to say, she won.

It felt familiar. It reminded me of me.

The Queen released a huff of air tinged with relief. With a smile the older woman moves to take her leave. "Please, my dear, make her feel at home. Something tells me you two will be great friends."

Only she was wrong. The second she her heel and moved with such elegance towards the maids to apologise, Sooyoung's demeanour changed. She looked me up and down and cocked her head to the side.

"You are well dressed for a maid. Younger, too."

I flushed. Looking down at my own clothes I couldn't stop my face from twisting into a frown. I didn't expect her to be so formal at her age, but maybe I should have. Even I had to take lessons on mannerisms, on the correct etiquette of royalty. With a shake of my head I stammer.

"I-I am not your maid."

This time she frowns, lips tugging down. "No? Then why are you talking to me?"

We were only nine, but it was in that very moment I had my mind decided. That was the first time I met the princess yet somehow I just knew she would be the death of me. So, when she copies her mother and turns on her heel to leave, a newfound sense of confidence surged throughout me. I was young but I still had my pride. Maybe too much of it, now that I think about it.

"I thought the princess would bathe. I guess we were both wrong in our assumptions."

She froze. Maybe I should have panicked, should have rushed to apologise, to beg for her forgiveness. Because who was I to be rude to the princess? But I was stubborn. So, so stubborn. It was in this moment I realised.

I just made my very first enemy.

 

I was twelve when I realised that she wouldn't be my last.


 

"-- Please do not run off on us again, child. I had hoped that after all these years that habit would have died off."

Looking away from the window and instead up at the familiar tall guard, I let a sarcastic smile tinge the corner of my lips. The man looked down at me with his tired eyes full of warning, practically threatening me to peep a sound of protest. When he notices he has my attention he presses forward. "I mean it. It is almost as if you like seeing us in trouble for your petulance."

"It is true. Often I wonder how the last guard survived so long at your side." A second voice chimes in, less familiar than the first.

A lot had chanced since I was nine. For one, only the taller guard stayed as my personal babysitter. (The other guy eventually got tired of chasing me around and asked to be transferred. Weak.) Secondly... well, there was no secondly. Here I was: waiting outside yet another door for my parents to finish whatever meeting they were having now. Rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet I bit back the groan of boredom that threatened to tear from the back of my throat. I supposed if one thing had changed it was that I was trying to be more patient. Of course, sometimes it was easier said than done, but I really was trying!

Looking between the two men I shook my head with a huff.

"I do not have the energy. I just want to sleep."

I wasn't lying. The castle was dark by now, halls illuminated by candlelight and the moon above our heads. Any other night I would've been asleep by now, welcoming whatever dreams the gods would throw at me. The sound of crickets chirping and the occasional sniffle was the only thing I could hear, all sound behind the door muffled by some kind of protective spell. I didn't know why I was even here. Why I had to be dragged along to this thing in the first place. Before I could dwell on it, however, the tall guard hums.

"I am sure it will not be much longer. It is only a matter of time before-" He's stopped.

The three of us flinched when the door suddenly opened and it was then I realised the meeting must've been over. Several guards file out of the room followed closely by the King and Queen, the man pinching the bridge of his nose while the woman sported a look of plain displeasure. If the stiff tension that suddenly clouded the hall told me anything, their meeting couldn't have been anything good. And then came my parents.

Following closely behind the royal pair I didn't miss the way they talked between each other in a flurry of hushed whispers. I couldn't possibly tell what they were saying but there was no ignoring their shared frowns: fathers clenched jaw and mothers furrowed brows. It was moments like these I desperately wanted to know what was behind that door. What is was that had the King and Queen arguing-- what is was that had my parents arguing. But before I could question it, however, the King beats me to it.

"We are done here. Barricade this door if you must, I do not care!" The man stares his guards down in such a way that even I couldn't help but flinch back. If there was one thing I noticed about the King it was his intensity, so unlike his wife's familiar hospitality. His guards stomp their feet not even a second later and salute the King with a collective "Aye!", a type of chant that had a chill running down my spine. But then I noticed the cold stare he shot father's way and there was no ignoring the heavy feeling that cemented itself in the pit of my stomach.

Some part of me almost felt protective. Because who was he to give my father that look? Who was he to be so disrespectful? I didn't care if he was a King, he oughta!--- a knowing clear of my mothers throat had me looking her way immediately and I settled back down, obedient, when I saw the warning in her eyes. If there was one thing I didn't want to do it was disappoint her. It took everything within me to stay quiet when the King practically snarled in fathers face.

"Stay away from that sphere, friend. I do not understand what you wish to accomplish, and frankly I do not care to. Do not let me catch you here again."

"You are mistaking my good intentions with ones of deceit. If you would just-"

"The answer is no."

And then they were off. He didn't wait for father to crack a peep before he his heel and stalked down the hall in fast strides, leaving his wife to scurry after him. Soon it was just us. Me, father, mother, my babysitters, and finally two of the King's guards rushing to position themselves on either side of the door. An awkward silence passed between us before mother broke it, turning to my guards and offering them a faint, forced smile.

"Please Y/N to her quarters. There is something we must discuss."

Before I could even so much as peep a sound of protest, the tall guard rested his hand on my arm and lead me down the hall in such a pace that could've rivalled the King's. I was confused. Completely, utterly confused. They kept me awake for their meeting just to send me away like this? No, they couldn't do that! I was more curious now than ever!

Trying desperately to crane my head around their shoulders, the last thing I saw before we turned the corner was mothers frown. I couldn't tell what father was telling her, couldn't tell what was so desperate they had to stay behind and talk about-- but I supposed I shouldn't have been surprised. So far as I knew there was no such thing as truth in our family. Complete, transparent truth. It was full of secrets but none of them ever involving me. But somehow-- just somehow... something told me that whatever was behind that door would hold the answers.

It was then I decided I would do whatever it takes to get inside that room.

_

 

I never was one to forget my promises.

 

I had to admit I always wanted to know what was in that mysterious room at the end of the hall. I heard the guards talk about it sometimes in mumbled sentences, something about a 'sphere' of some kind. The room was guarded by men on a constant basis, the King's knights patrolling the halls as if waiting for even the smallest of inconsistencies. It confused me why they acted like it was the King and Queen's quarters, or perhaps even the Princess' herself. In some odd ways I could have sworn the room called to me like a beast to its blood singer, or perhaps I'd just read one too many books. Mother and father were always so secretive about what they were doing, my guards usually just made me read to waste the time. Perhaps they thought that by doing it they would keep my sated. So long as I had a book in my hands there was no havoc to wreak.

Nonetheless, it shouldn't have come to anyone's surprise that I snuck out of bed that very night and tiptoed quietly down the halls in my sleeping garments, trying desperately to keep quiet on my feet. It was only a matter of time before I reached the familiar door, the first thing I saw being the two guardsmen positioned on either side. They had to have been here for hours. By now it was complete darkness, most candles blown out besides the few needed to see. The closer I got to the door the quieter my footsteps became. It was only when I heard the faint sound of snoring did I realise that they were both asleep and truth be told I couldn't blame them. Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe it was fate. Regardless, pushing my way through the door without making too much sound had to be the hardest task of my young life. Much to my fortune, it didn't take long before I was slipping inside with a triumphant grin. The hard part was over. Only the last thing I expected when I looked up and scanned my eyes over the room was the large, hand sized orb hovering above a platinum podium in the centre of the room. I couldn't take my eyes away.

I'd heard storied about the gods before. About one god in particular whose eyes could turn man to stone, alluring. It was hard to not stare, hard to draw ones eyes away. Perhaps this was the gods incarnate.

It was beautiful. Maybe the prettiest thing I'd ever laid my eyes on besides for the Queen's daughter, as much as I hated to admit it. But this... it was different. It felt different. Suddenly that lure I felt to it before was ten times stronger now, so strong that I couldn't ignore the way my palms grew clammy. The sphere-- It had to be. It looked like a pure, red hot energy ball crackling with currents of lightning. A particular shade of red that rivalled the royal families signature maroon tunics.

Maybe the reason I wasn't allowed inside this room-- hell, even anyone for the matter-- was because of the irresistible urge to touch it. Yet, against my better judgement and every fibre of my being that told me not to, I slowly reached my hand out in its direction. Before I can make contact, however, I'm stopped-- just mere millimetres away.

The feeling of a hand clasping itself around my wrist and tugging me back has my heartbeat racing erratically in my chest, a mute gasp of shock slipping from my lips. Only the moment I turned and met the figures eyes, my body relaxed on instinct.

"Father! I-It's not what it looks like!"

The man looked down at me with an indescribable look swimming through his eyes, a type of look that had me cowering back in fear. What was he about to do? Was he going to tell me off? How did he even know I was here? Better yet, how did he get here? Did he slip passed the guards too? Did-

I'm drawn from my thoughts when he suddenly sighs and drops my wrist from his grasp. Instead of telling me off like I expected him to, he does the exact opposite. He walks passed me and stands directly in front of the sphere.

"It is addictive, do you agree?"

For a moment I stayed silent. Because this had to be some kind of test, right? He was just testing me..?

I wait several seconds for him to continue but he never does. Testing the waters, I nod my head and slowly move to stand by his side-- looking between him and the sphere.

"Yes..." I admit. And then I trail off. Biting the inside of my cheek I dig around for my words before settling with a quiet mumble. "I am not in trouble, am I?"

"No, my child. Your mother may disagree but it was only a matter of time before we stood here now." He gives me a sidelong glance and, like I had only moments ago, he mulls over his words carefully. When he knows he has my attention he continues. "Would you like to hear a story?"

I perk up. If there was one thing I would never do it would be turn down his stories. We never spent a lot of time around each other but whenever we did, he tried to tell me as much as he could. At least, as much as mother would let him. I don't miss the hint of a smile that tips the corner of his lips when he notices my enthusiasm, but it's gone as quick as it came when he tears his eyes directly towards the sphere. Even from his side profile I noticed the way his eyes glossed over, the way his lips pursed together. He hums.

"I wonder where I should begin... When I was a child my mother would tell me stories, too. Stories of the great war well before our time, stories of the gods and of their powers. Stories of how we, Eden, came to be. This sphere was created to give us our power. An energy source, if you will. To protect our kingdom and keep the barrier strong."

I knew what he was talking about. The Barrier. Often days I would look out into the kingdom below and watch the royal carriages roll over that magical bridge, the one that protected us from the outside. Before I knew it he turned away from the sphere and dropped to his knee so we were at eye level. For a twelve year old I knew I was small. Or maybe he was just really tall. Regardless, I let him take my hand in his. It wasn't often we had moments like these. I knew better than to deny it.

Flipping his hand upside down so his knuckles were facing up, he gestured towards his rings. I couldn't help but trace my fingers over them, starting with the silver band on his pinkie. I always wondered where he got these from. I always thought they looked different from the ones the King and Queen wore. Fathers looked more... unique. The gems in their middles each shone a different colour, blue and purple. I could've sworn a shock ran through me when I grazed the blue gem, but it could've been my imagination. I pay attention when he continues.

"These rings are special, my child. As special as the barrier which keeps us hidden. Before these rings were rings, they were spheres at their purest-- much like the one before us now." He gestures towards the red mass of energy before us and suddenly recognition prongs throughout me. The gems... He hums knowingly. "I hope you understand even now what it means."

Before I can respond he's dropping my hand and standing back to his feet. Fiddling with his rings he gazes down at the sphere almost absentmindedly, his words falling from his lips just as vague.

"One day you will learn control, just as I. You are destined for so much, young Y/N. This is your destiny."

I wanted to say something. Anything. To ask what he means, to ask him to tell me more stories-- but I couldn't. My words stay cemented on the tip of my tongue when, just like he had only moments ago, a hand tugs me back by my shoulder so I'm stumbling into a familiar warmth. Looking up at the figure the first thing I see is mothers worried face, the way her eyes scan over me, her hands prodding at my body to make sure I was safe and okay. And then, only once she's sure I'm fine, her face washes over with disgust when she looks father's way.

For a moment they just stare at each other, some kind of unspoken conversation passing between them. Father's back was us but even I noticed the look he gave her from his peripheral. And then she breaks it by looking back my way. Her smile returns to her face but visibly strained, her eyes softening when they lock with mine. Turning me in her arms so we're face to face, I almost whack myself against the familiar golden pendant laced around her neck. She whispers, and there's no ignoring how tired she sounds.

"Do not listen to that old fool, my love. Come. Let us sleep, yes?"

Somehow I knew better than to argue. With a silent nod, I follow her.

_

 

Maybe I should have stayed asleep. Shouldn't have let my curiosity get the better of me, shouldn't have acted without thinking it through. Laying down all I could hear was the sound of mother and father's arguing from the room over. I couldn't sleep. All I could do was listen.

"She is just a child!"

I knew that was mother. They sounded muffled but there was no mistaking their voices. No mistaking the tears that were sure to be running down her cheeks at this moment, no mistaking the nonchalance in father's tone. He never did know what to do in moments like these. Part of me almost wanted to get up and hug her. I never liked to see her cry, much less hear. But something compelled me to stay still. Clutching the blanket closer to my chin I feel my heart drop in my chest.

"I know."

"Then why? Why must we rush her?"

"We are running out of time! There will come a day where she must learn to control her powers. She is much more than just our daughter, my dear. She is a disciple!"

I flinch back into my sheets when I heard a loud 'thud!', and I could only assume it was the sound of mother dropping to her knees. I wasn't even in the same room as them yet I could feel the tension just as thick, could feel it in its suffocating glory. I could only begin to imagine the look on her face, pleading. And then she cries. She cries in such a way that my own tear rolls down my cheek.

"Whatever you call her, whatever she is destined to be... she will always be my daughter first. Please. Please promise me you will protect her. You must!"

Father never was good during moments like these. He never was good at condoning us when we were upset, never was good at being there emotionally when we needed him. The last thing I expected was two simple words, words I hadn't heard come from his lips before.

"I promise."

 

I wasn't sure when I finally managed to get to sleep. When I finally tired myself out and their arguing became a distant memory. All I knew was that the sound of mothers sadness was enough to keep my heart heavy even into the next morning.

That was the first time I felt my heart break.


 

Nine year old me would never have guessed she'd find herself where she is now. Standing deathly still like one of the dungeon statues, her hands clasped together tightly behind her back, her eyes scanning the crowd. Nine year old me never could stand still for more than five seconds before fidgeting or making a sound. Now that I thought about it, actually, it was something I still struggled with.

The feeling of a shoulder brushing softly against mine snapped me from my thoughts, making me remember where we were. It was supper time, the royal family seated at their thrones while palace folk chewed away at their food at the dining tables beneath them. The King dug into his bread like a hungered bear during winter, the Queen delicately handling her cutlery and taking the smallest of sips from her wine glass-- a stark comparison. And as much as I wanted to pretend I didn't notice it, Sooyoung barely touched her meal. Instead her eyes scanned the room as diligently as mine had only moments prior. When that same shoulder brushes against mine a second time, I tear my eyes away from the princess and instead settle them on the figure besides me.

 

"Mind or body?"

I was surprised I heard her over the commotion. The sound of knives and forks clanging against plates rung loudly in the air, laughter and chatter mixed within its off-tune. Nonetheless, her velvet voice sounded clear in my ears. I knew who it was immediately. A voice I'd grown so used to since we were both children, a voice I turned to when I was at my worst. But then her question catches up to me and my mind draws blank. For a moment I purse my lips and mull her words over, confused. If there was one thing this girl did often, it was strike up odd conversation at the most inconvenient times. Some part of me knew better than to ask but my curiosity got the better of me.

"Sorry?" I can't stop the way my head tilts to the side. A second long silence passes between us as she looks out into the crowd of palace folk, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. I'd like to think I knew her well enough to say that she was caught deep in her own thoughts. And then she shrugs. Her cat-like eyes snap away from the crowd to meet my probing gaze, and she's scanning me just as thoroughly as I had her.

"Power comes in more ways than just physical. Do you believe that mental strength is more important? Or do you believe your ability to execute is."

Of all the things I expected her to say, that was by far the least of them. I shake my head.

"And you are asking... why?"

"It is just a question. I find myself wondering whether I am focused on the wrong things, my priorities misplaced. Perhaps you should, too."

"Is this your way of telling me I am a brute?"

"Do not let my words harm you, Y/N. I have just made observations."

"Such as...?"

The girl quiets for a moment and within a second her eyes are drawing away from mine once more. All I can do is watch her soundlessly as she peers through the crowd, searching for something that only she could see. And then she perks up. I just barely notice what catches her attention: a heap of familiar blonde hair, broad shoulders. She hums.

"That girl. The one training to become Commander Woo's second. I often see her sparring, sometimes with just her own bare fists, while even we are not. Your father trains us rigorously but she trains herself harder." I don't miss the way her eyes snap over to the familiar figure of her brother not too far away from us. Taehyung stands still with his hands clasped together behind his back, his lips pulled tightly shut. On his left is Jungkook, that aggravatingly annoying boy. Jennie scoffs a chuckle. "I believe she could give my brother a run