100 years ago

Heejin smiled as Hyunjin pulled her close. She met her in the middle, pressing their lips lightly together. Like every other time, she felt a flutter of warmth in her chest. It made the moment feel right to her, as if all that had come before had made way for this. A seer would probably tell her otherwise, but that didn’t matter. 

“We should be concentrating.” 

Hyunjin hummed and took her hand. “So focus. What’re the main values of the fae?” 

She was having trouble looking into sparkling yellow eyes and thinking at the same time. They were getting prettier each day. 

“Knowledge and curiosity.”

“And?” Hyunjin held her gaze. “One more, very important. Makes or breaks their judgement.”

Heejin raised a brow at her. “Since when did you know these things better than me?”

She giggled, the sound making Heejin’s heart swell. “Don’t forget, I also have to know who we’re up against.”

“We also work with them,” Heejin corrected. 

“That too,” Hyunjin shrugged, “so what’s the third? It might be their best quality.” 

It came to mind then. It was also something she saw in the girl beside her. “Selflessness.”

The smile she got in return was near blinding. “Now where did that show itself most?”

“When they resolved the battle in the south,” Heejin managed to say. She could barely overcome the newfound nervousness she felt around Hyunjin. It’d come up in the last years, once they’d technically reached the end of their physical ageing. Hyunjin’s once adorable eyes and sharp teeth were suddenly balanced out by a more pronounced jaw and fuller lips. More than once, Heejin had been elbowed by Yeojin or Haseul who'd started waggling their eyebrows at her. 

And more than once, Hyunjin had caught her staring. 

Hyunjin asked her about the past conflicts they had with both elves and fae, but then twisted it. She always did that, asking about different outcomes, usually if they’d have won a fight against the mental fae, or lost the one against the eastern sea elves. All repeats of questions Heejin had heard from the elders, but given a spin. Instead of purely asking the best outcome for the Astra, Hyunjin asked her about what the other clans’ relations would be to each other and them. She asked about what the ideal state would be for their clans in the different scenarios.

And each time a new spin came, Heejin was reminded at how Hyunjin could’ve been in the same position as she was. She was a better fit for it. Her default was to consider the other side, not just think about which clans the Astra were giving moonlight to. 

Heejin tried to quell it, but with each question, her anger at how the elders treated Hyunjin and her family rose. The latter had stopped reassuring her that it was fine. Hyunjin assumed that Heejin had accepted it like she had.

“Do you really think I’m right for this?”

Hyunjin looked taken aback at the question. “This, as in guarding? Or leading?”

Heejin squinted at her. “You know which.”

She cracked a smile. “Guarding has always been below you, leading is perfect.” Her gaze softened. “Why ask?” 

“You can go over these things again and again, never getting annoyed. I’m just listening, because,” she trailed off. Because you're the one talking. Heat shot up to her neck. 

Hyunjin didn’t note the slip-up. “Because you have to do it and I like learning through you.” She winked. "One of us wins."

Heejin snickered. “So leadership is best for me because I don’t like it?” 

Her lips parted, eyes glinting playfully. Then she paused, the playfulness fading. “You don’t want to lead?” A gruffness had entered her voice. It always did when Hyunjin realised she needed to be serious.

“It’s not that,” Heejin sighed, “but you know how great Haseul is at it.“ And that had happened even with the older girl’s tendency to challenge even Freya and Eline. To everyone's surprise, they sometimes listened. Heejin was sure she couldn’t do the same. She grew shy around most elders. And her temper flared with most of the people her age. That very anger was a terrible thing to have. Some called it a dark emotion. 

Hyunjin smiled. “Heekie, you’ve got the respect of everyone the moment you start to lead. Every lesson you give the children, they hang on to your every word. Even Hyejoo and Yeojin listen to you.” 

“They like me,” Heejin muttered.

“True, but they also like Yves and me, but do they listen to us when it comes to sitting out hunts or patrol on a new moon?” Her smile grew. “You have a fair amount of influence here.” 

“And you?”

Hyunjin didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she held Heejin’s gaze, as if weighing her options. Somehow, it made her even more nervous. It almost made her guilty thinking about how much more Hyunjin's answer would matter to her.

After a far too long pause, she said, “I’d follow a few orders.” 

Heejin whacked her arm. “Thanks for the confidence boost.” Even as a jest, it carried weight for her. She felt lighter too, her doubt still there, but less. 

“You’ll make an incredible elder,” Hyunjin pressed a light kiss to her forehead, “it’s why you have to know all of this. They know you’re fit for it once you have. And so do I, if that counts for anything.”

“It counts.” Heejin smiled. 

Then she heard the sound of footsteps. Hyunjin reacted before she did, a long white blade appearing in her hands. It was barely noticeable, but Heejin still did: Hyunjin moved in front of her. She still held one of her hands in hers. 

There was a glow in the woods. Moments later, Haseul appeared between the branches, her breath laboured. 

“Heejin, they want you back.” Her green eyes flicked between the two of them. Heejin saw hesitance there. “There’s an announcement.”

Hyunjin’s blade disappeared and she straightened from her half-crouch. She looked completely relaxed now. Then she let go of Heejin’s hand. 

“So let’s go.” Hyunjin gave her a small smile. 

Heejin wanted nothing more than to stay. But she still followed when Haseul took off again through the woods, Hyunjin close behind. To match the both of them, Heejin had to run harder. Both had built up their strength more than she had, as the rest of Heejin's time was spent learning sigils, the few nuances of moonlight they did know about, and every other piece of information she had to know about other elves and fairies. 

Haseul didn’t stop to explain, but Heejin had seen enough to be concerned. It was something about her. And Heejin probably wasn’t going to like the sound of it. 

They were gathered around the amphitheatre; the one Choerry had been tasked to make in the years after she'd arrived. Before, they’d gathered around the central fire-pit, but that always made it difficult for everyone to understand what was being said. 

Choerry had carved out a large area for all to be seated, modelled after the ones she’d seen in the west. Heejin was pretty sure it'd also been a place where they’d believed in and even named a goddess of the moon. And while the moon wasn’t a god, Heejin liked that the mortals had also recognised the power of the moon. 

What she didn’t like was that they had to go down there now, where everyone could see them. 

She hated even more that Freya was beckoning her over to the centre. She glanced back to see that Hyunjin had stopped at the very edge. She nodded at her, yellow eyes reassuring. 

Heejin kept going down the steps. Her father was there. He smiled as she came down the steps. It was a reassuring smile.

With all the eyes on her, she could hardly appreciate that. She was well aware of just how many people there were in their community. In comparison to others, they were small, but it didn’t feel like that now. 

Heejin’s stomach was severely knotted by the time she reached the bottom. 

“All will be alright,” he said softly. In the mortal tongue of a large island to the east. Did they call it Japan? Few understood it. 

Before Heejin could even try to figure out what that meant, Freya began to speak. 

“Today is a most joyous day,” she said, voice reaching far, all the way to the edges of the space. Where Hyunjin sat. 

Heejin tried to find her, but only saw her in the distance. She was sitting up straight. If Heejin was seeing right, Hyejoo was beside her. The black hair was unmistakeable when there was light. Her hair usually didn't reflect it. It was also something Hyejoo couldn’t change, not like how Jungeun, Jinsoul or Gowon could darken their hair. No one knew why. And Heejin knew Hyejoo hated it. 

Freya kept talking. Heejin forced herself to look away from her friends and towards the elder. 

“We’ve known about this for some time, but it was something to save until both were able to understand it.”

Heejin had to stamp out her irritation. She’d been called here to be stared at by all of the Astra. She didn't need to have her youth and ignorance thrown in her face. Freya always did this, so much so that it was normal by now, but that didn’t mean Heejin accepted it. 

And then she understood. She realised what she was here for and why her father was there. 

She whipped her head up to look at him, only to see that his eyes were on the moon. They were almost questioning. 

“And normally such a bond would’ve shown itself, but Eline and the other seers agreed it was best to announce it properly,” Freya said. “So it can be allowed to properly flourish.” She waved a hand. 

Three people stood then. Priad and his parents. He was a bit younger than her, but already much taller. They’d been friends in the way that she was friends with Teveril or Kolina: she ate with them once a month. At most. 

Heejin felt the urge to close her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to escape this moment. 

Please. Not this. Not him, she thought. The face of another filled her mind. Someone who sat too far away from her now, watching as this unfolded. 

She almost expected a response, but the moon wasn’t sentient. No, it just gave her someone she barely cared about. And that someone had been tied to her for a while, but she’d never felt the connection. Didn’t that prove the bond wasn't strong enough?

Priad smiled at her, a degree of nervousness and boyish charm there. She forced the muscles of her cheeks to rise in response. A smile of that kind was something she was learning to master. 

He believed it. 

The ordeal lasted at least ten more minutes. Freya spoke about the bond and how valuable it was, how important it could be to their lives, all while Heejin and Priad were forced to stand there Heejin pretended to listen. 

Heejin found Hyunjin again. There was no feeling that the girl looked back at her. She almost wished she could read emotions as some fairies could. But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she knew she’d hate what she saw even more than not knowing it. 

Finally, she was allowed to sit. But she had to sit with him. 

Her father sat on her other side. The reassuring gaze from earlier made more sense. He knew she’d hate this. Just as she knew this was wrong. It had to be. She hadn’t felt anything for him, not even a fleeting crush when they were younger. Never had she wanted to be by his side. 

Even now, after the moment of discovering the bond, she only felt a hint of it. She saw the faint flickers of light between them, but it was supposed to be a glittering path or ribbon tying you to the other person. It was supposed to make you feel at ease to see it intact. 

Heejin fiddled with a new tear in the cloth at her knee. She began to make a hole out of it when her father took her hand. He squeezed it gently. It was also a gentle warning: don't show your feelings. 

The elders were taking this time to talk about how tomorrow they’d start with siphoning out moonlight to make a stockpile. This one would be split between the northern elves and a splinter group of the fae. The fairies would then provide some protection against other fairies who could dream-walk. If a rotten one stumbled upon your mind in the dream-world, any dream could turn into nightmares. Usually, their minds had some sort of protection through the moonlight, but when someone was low or there wasn’t enough light coming from the moon, they were at risk of it. 

Heejin weighed the risks and benefits of dealing with those groups. She considered who'd they'd help next. She thought of anything, but what today meant. 

And then, finally, it was over. 

Heejin got to her feet, evading any conversation that would come. She could put on a false expression, but the matching words wouldn’t come today. 

She needed to find her. 

As she went up the stairs, nearly pushing past the rest, she got congratulations from elves she hardly knew. She passed Chuu, only to see an apologetic gaze there. 

It made her feel worse. Her friends knew what this meant, while the rest could only guess. She hadn’t kept her feelings a secret, but they hadn’t been obvious about it either. Hyunjin had been very conscious of Heejin’s image there. She'd had to remind Heejin of that many times. 

Her eyes were burning when she reached the top. She broke away from the group, going to the part of the camp that was theirs. 

She didn’t see Hyunjin anywhere. She couldn’t even find her light. That didn’t mean much. Heejin could hardly think properly, let alone focus long enough to find her. 

She hurried over to their tents—maybe Hyunjin was cooking. She did that when she was annoyed or disappointed.

The others were gathering for food already. No sign of Hyunjin. 

She barely reached Hyejoo when the first tear fell. Whether it was frustration or sadness, she didn’t know. 

Gowon was also there, her gaze thoughtful. It immediately turned sympathetic when she saw Heejin. As always, the pale-haired girl stood close to Hyejoo’s side. Their hands were usually inches away from touching. Unless they were already connected. 

“Where is she?” Heejin’s voice sounded thick. 

Hyejoo nodded east. A lake was in that direction. 

Heejin made to go, but a hand took hers. She looked, ready to rip her hand away. 

Sooyoung looked down at her with sad eyes. “She’ll need time to think it through. It'll also be better if you’re not seen leaving immediately.” 

“What they see won’t matter,” Heejin pulled her arm away, “they had to have this whole thing to prove it existed. They already knows it’s weak.” She knew she spoke too loudly. She knew her words could be an offence to the moon and anyone who was bonded to someone and loved them. And she knew that if Priad heard it, he'd be disappointed. "I’m going.” 

Before she left, she grabbed one of the packs of food, the ones they didn’t need to cook. Hopefully it had the freshly baked bread that Jungeun had brought in. There was one house in town that made them every four days. It was a family recipe too, one Hyunjin had enjoyed the development of greatly. 

So she took off, hoping desperately that Hyunjin was being careful. Whatever she was feeling now, spirits would be drawn to the negative emotions. If she was deeper in her thoughts, she could get hurt. And if she got hurt, it would be because of Heejin. 

She felt the eyes on her as she walked. She held in the rest of her tears as she hurried past the tents. This was one of the rare moments where she hoped they'd ignored Hyunjin as she'd walked this way. Heejin hated herself for thinking that, even just for a moment. 

She found the source of light in the distance. Hyunjin had run from the camp. She’d stopped now. 

So Heejin began to jog, carefully avoiding the roots that sprung up here and there. 

She was tired. Not only had the guard duty drained her, but the end of the day had landed a final blow. There might’ve still been one left. She hoped she could block it or stop it from falling in the first place. 

Hyunjin sat at the edge of the lake, her head bowed and shoulders slowly rising and falling. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” she murmured. Her voice was thick. She’d been crying. 

The amount of times Hyunjin had cried was below ten. There’d been the beginning when she’d realised that her position among the Astra was lower than she’d ever realised. She’d not understood before why she’d heard blatant disrespect of her parents, nor why she’d needed to train harder than anyone else in combat. Those things she’d done without complaint, but even Hyunjin had a limit. Heejin had been there to see it broken when they were children. 

Heejin didn’t respond and went over. She knelt down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She wiped away the teardrops she saw. 

Hyunjin closed her eyes. She let out a long breath. 

“I don’t feel anything for him,” Heejin said. “Even the bond is weak.”

“They all start weak,” was the response, “only get stronger once the two get closer.”

“Which we won’t.”

Hyunjin opened her eyes. “Don’t say that.” Her brow furrowed. “This’s a good thing.” 

“Really?” Heejin asked. “Are these tears of joy?” She brushed away another as it fell. 

She shook her head and pulled away. “What I’m feeling now doesn’t matter.”

She took Hyunjin’s hands in hers. “It always matters.”

“You’ll need to stop thinking like that,” Hyunjin muttered. She pulled her hands away. 

Heejin frowned. “Just because there’s a bond, doesn’t mean you and I can’t be like this.” 

“This was never meant to happen,” Hyunjin snapped. 

“Hyun,” Heejin started. She hated seeing this. She could almost feel the way Hyunjin’s heart twisted. 

“No,” she got to her feet, “stop looking at me like that. Stop reaching out.” She closed her eyes and two large tears slid down her cheeks. 

Heejin stood as well. She needed to wipe them away. “This doesn’t change—”

“It does.” Hyunjin took her wrists and kept Heejin’s hands away from her face. Thankfully, she didn’t move away this time. “It changes all of it.” She dropped her wrists, her eyes still closed. “And we’ll need to get used to that.”

“Get used to what?” she asked. “Whether or not I turn left or right, I get to choose that. That’s how the future works. It adjusts. This isn’t any different.”

She shook her head. “Of course it’s different, Heejin. My parents didn’t like that they were bound together, but the moment they looked past that, they saw how much of a blessing it was.” She opened her eyes, her gaze hard. “And you can’t tell me that your parents’ bond was something as trivial as lifting a hand or not. Just because it's affecting you in a way you don't want, doesn't mean it's wrong." 

Heejin didn’t know how to answer that. 

“Tomorrow I’m asking to join Hyojung and the rest.”

Her stomach unknotted itself. And it weighed as much as a stone now. “What?” Hyojung led her group all across the world, which was both an extensive patrol and an opportunity to help those who’d had the bad luck to encounter a dark spirit. They were gone for months, sometimes years at a time. 

“It’ll be better if I’m not there,” Hyunjin replied. “Those initial months usually count for a lot.” 

“You can’t leave.” Heejin’s voice sounded hopelessly small to her. She felt small too. How could one aspect of the future play such a big part in their lives? So much that Hyunjin would turn away from her now?

“It’s better for both you and I if I’m not here.” The corner of her lip tugged up. “No distractions.” With that, Hyunjin sat down again. “Go back. They'll be wondering where you went.”

Heejin wished she could protest, wished she could make Hyunjin see that nothing had changed for her. She couldn’t. Not when Hyunjin looked so defeated and so resolute in leaving. 

So she went back. Each step felt wrong to her. 

And while she couldn’t say it, she knew Hyunjin was wrong. The rest were too. So was the moon. Priad was fine, but he wasn’t Hyunjin. And if the person her soul was tied to was ‘fine’, then how was she supposed to put her faith in that?

______

Choerry gazed up at the dark spirit. It stared back with almost teasing eyes. And it looked between her hands and eyes. 

“I can’t give you that,” she said. “It burns you.” And then she’d hurt him, maybe even turn him. She didn’t want either to happen. 

The bat blinked. Its eyes were two-coloured: coal and fire. And now they continued to challenge her. She’d named him Hypnos, after a mortal god the Greeks had said was tied to sleep. Her Hypnos was almost always sleepy. That he was a spirit made that fact strange. And that he slept during the night made it even stranger. 

Stifling a sigh, Choerry set her gaze back onto her work. She held out her hands, tentatively reaching for the seed she’d placed there. It responded to her, careful, yet ready. The plants always were. 

She closed her eyes, urging the earth to provide what the seed needed. She called forth her light, letting it seep into the ground. That would provide the warmth that often triggered growth. She didn’t know why, but she knew it was connected to how the light healed injuries. 

The sound of earth crumbling reached her ears. She didn’t open her eyes, but the sound made her smile. A hundred years ago, she’d have never dreamed this possible. Fifty years ago, she’d barely been able to get a seed to sprout. After Hyejoo's banishment, she’d barely been able to control any plant, only dirt. In the years that followed, she’d slowly worked her way back, first tackling grass, flowers, and fruit bushes. 

Today she was trying again with fruit trees. Normally, it took years for fruit to sprout. For immortals, that was hardly an issue. But now that the Astra had discovered she could drive that process forward, they’d pushed her to further her magic. It’d been similar to how they’d treated Jinsoul. Before she’d discovered how to infuse water with moonlight, her water magic had been considered useless. After she’d learned it, the Astra had finally respected her other abilities. 

It was the first example of their hypocrisy. And it was hardly the first. 

Choerry’s eyes still burned at the memory. What they’d done to Hyejoo, she’d never forget. She’d never be able to escape the memories of that day and she would never forgive the Astra for what they did that day. 

The only exception were those she knew regretted it. As hard as it had been to accept, she’d seen how Chuu suffered. She’d caught glimpses of Gowon’s pain. Her initial reaction to the bond had been that Gowon hadn’t deserved having it with Hyejoo in the first place. Then she’d spotted the shadows in her eyes and the near consistent hurt there. And while Yves seemed to be as unwielding as a tree, her actions and few lapses in her mask gave her guilt away. 

She was far from forgiving them, but she couldn’t deny what she saw. She knew Yeojin and Heejin couldn’t stand to look at them, let alone speak to them. The rest of them had reached an uneasy truce. The exceptions to that were Jungeun and Jinsoul. They were like her in that they hadn’t forgiven them, but they were separate enough from the Astra that they could look past that. 

Then a rush of cold trickled down her back. She’d felt that before when the light had been from the air and spirits had turned from bright to dark. Hyejoo’s darkness had been able to make even a warm night near freezing. It hadn’t scared her, she remembered, but she’d seen the terror in the others. 

Choerry looked around, gazing into the paths laid out in front of her. There were the small ones left by leaves that were going to fall soon, as well as more erratic ones left by small animals in search of food. 

Then she saw it. It was faint, but no less obvious to her. And the sight made her chest clench. She saw a face streaked with black blood. The path wasn’t white or any other bright colour, but a mixture of grey and black. She only saw it because it was laid against brighter paths. It seemed to draw on the light of those paths, draining them. 

She gathered her things and nearly stumbled as she went to follow it. Hypnos followed. He tended to walk instead of fly. Another reason why she’d thought the name fit: he was lazy. 

It was taking her away from camp. Focusing on it now, she saw that it was going to lead her far away, not to the next town, but a town after that, perhaps even past that. But it fit with what had been happening. Whatever the case with Gowon and the mutilated bond she shared with Hyejoo now, as well as the unrest in the seers, Hyejoo was closer than she’d been in years. 

Questions flooded her mind. She thought of half as many possibilities. Why would she be here? What was bringing her back? Something related to what she’d done before? Was there some pull to hear because of them, something that was causing Gowon to be aware that the bond wasn’t completely gone? Or was she here so that the bond would disappear? 

Choerry shook her head. She was only just starting to grasp what possibilities the moon presented to her. She was far from being able to understand the purpose behind that. Sometimes she wondered if there even was a purpose. Chuu always skirted around that topic. She hadn’t said it, but Choerry knew she hated how she’d gotten the sight at a young age. She knew she hated how much of her life had been spent hiding her knowledge. Choerry was just barely beginning to understand that hatred herself. 

No spirits came to her, even though her mind was going mad with questions. She was also nervous for what she’d find—who she’d find. 

Voices came to her sooner than she’d thought. They weren’t the ones she was looking for, but they were exactly on that very same path. Choerry suddenly felt dizzy just by considering that turn of events. 

“Yerim?” Jungeun held a white blade in her hands. It vanished immediately. “Why’re you out here?” Her brow furrowed as concern flooded her features. 

She nearly smiled at how much care the elf could show to a person. She was also close to retorting that she could be anywhere she wanted in this forest. 

Instead she looked to Chuu who stood beside her. “Do you see it too?” 

Chuu’s frown showed her that she hadn’t. “Which one?”

“Here.” Choerry knelt down and traced the path in front of her. It was cold to the touch. It filled her with feelings of loneliness and a slow-building anger. She took her hand away and moved away from it. A sense of something being very wrong began. “Do you feel any different?” she asked Jungeun. Sometimes people who weren’t seers could feel certain changes. 

Jungeun shook her head. 

Chuu followed her gaze and frowned. “I don’t see it.”

Choerry stepped back onto the path. Cold seeped into her body. It flooded her when she took the next step. 

The peach-eyed elf finally nodded. “Faintly.” She looked at her. “Why?” By her expression, she already knew. The skin around her eyes looked tight. The regret was bubbling up in her eyes. Amazingly, it was with Jungeun and Choerry where Chuu opened up. Neither Gowon nor Yves knew of her sight. Choerry was still taken aback by that. She understood why Yves didn't know, but not Gowon. Maybe telling one and not the other would make the lie worse. 

“Hyejoo.” 

“Here?” Jungeun looked between them. “You know where she is?”

“Closer than she ever was,” Choerry replied. “But still far away.”

“Then we have to go,” she said. “We need to find her.”

Choerry nodded. Then she looked back to Chuu. “Is this a suggestion? Or just a possibility?” A chance to find her again, but no guarantee that she wouldn’t run the moment she sensed they were close. And how could they blame her if she did?

“You should follow,” Chuu said. She eyed the path. Sadness had filled her gaze, something Choerry had gotten used to seeing when Chuu let her guard of smiles down. 

Jungeun’s head snapped to her then. "Not you?"

“It wasn’t a path I could properly see,” she whispered. “So I’m not meant to find her.”

It might’ve been true, but Choerry knew the real reason. Jungeun would soon enough. 

“I’ll make sure your absence isn’t unusual,” Chuu straightened, "should I tell Jinsoul?”

“I’m telling her when we get back,” Jungeun replied. “She needs a clear head.”

With the injuries and the growing doubt Choerry knew she had over Jungeun’s behaviour, she really did. 

“She’ll worry anyway,” Choerry said. She remembered Jungeun’s initial adventures—the ones she’d taken after Choerry had finally started settling in with the Astra. Even though Jinsoul and Jungeun had known each other for a fraction of both their lives, the two had been exact complements to one another. Jinsoul had hated each time Jungeun had gone off alone. She’d recognised Jungeun’s recklessness long before Choerry had seen it. 

Jungeun sighed. “If you’re sure.”

“If you're going to see her,” Chuu’s voice trembled, “then she needs to see the people she l–loved—still loves.”

With that, she turned away, going in the opposite direction of the path, back to camp, leaving the two of them in silence. 

Again, Choerry was reminded of the pain and regret in Chuu and the other two. 

“Let’s go?” Jungeun squeezed her shoulder. “Or do you need time”

“You were the one who jumped at going.” 

She nodded. “But we’re going together.”

Choerry found the energy to smile then. “It’ll be a long trek,” she said. “That’ll be enough time.” At least she hoped so. 

______

Jinsoul dabbed at the wound. It hadn’t closed yet. It’d been a day. And the black lines had only retreated a few fingers. 

“Can I use the elixir?” she asked, seeking out Nuala in the tent. It’d grown in the past years, almost double its size. 

“How much do we have?” The healer shot her a probing gaze. It was warmer than it’d been before, but it still made Jinsoul feel as if she were being tested. 

“Enough,” she replied. “I’m making more tomorrow.” Which included tracking down the nearest witch, unless Choerry would be awake enough to grow some herbs during the day. She was still training with that and the ingredients for potions were even more difficult than growing a fruit tree. No, Jinsoul would just find the witch and do some gathering by herself. 

A nod was the response. 

“Is it that bad?” Jennie raised a brow. “I feel fine.”

Jinsoul gave her a look. “You really want to seem tough now?” She grinned. “It’s soundproof too, you know, you can cry it out.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Then give me the damn elixir.”

She did, fighting the urge to laugh as the older elf’s face scrunched together. 

“What’s in this?” Jennie faked a gag. 

“You’re better off not knowing.” 

Her brow furrowed, but whatever retort she had died on her lips. Her gaze had immediately softened. 

Jinsoul didn’t even have to follow the girl’s gaze to know who’d just walked in. 

“She’ll survive,” she called over her shoulder. After adding a few drops of the healing potion to the wound directly, as well as another layer of liquid light, she quickly put on fresh bandages. 

“You should’ve heard her complaining on the way back,” Lisa muttered, sitting beside Jennie on the cot. Their hands found each other almost immediately. “She acted like she was dying.” Her yellow eyes were humorous, but they’d been full of terror yesterday. 

Jinsoul didn’t say that a wound like that was actually very deadly. They were lucky to have been close enough to the camp. She didn’t want to think about how it would’ve been if Jennie and Lisa had been on a patrol route like Jungeun’s. 

Just the thought pressed at her. The red-eyed elf insisted on going farther and farther away than she needed to. She took on spirits and other beings when she didn’t have to. They were usually too far away from camp to be considered a real threat to them. 

“Thanks to this,” Jennie lifted the empty potion vial, “it doesn’t burn that much anymore.” 

“Just drink more,” Jinsoul said. She took up a waterskin and let more light flow in. “Take this when you wake up and please,” she shot Lisa a look, “don’t go on some patrol.”

Lisa looked almost offended. “Why me?” 

“You’re giving her light whenever she needs it,” she replied. “From what I’ve seen, the light of the person you’re bonded to works better than any other.” She handed Jennie the waterskin. “So however you do it, give it to her when she’s finished this.” 

“Can we give you the light too?” Jennie asked. “Normal water doesn’t taste the same anymore.” The smile she gave her was tinged with gratitude. 

Jinsoul returned it. “‘Course you can.” 

The two elves nodded and got up. Jennie was a bit shaky, but Lisa steadied her, muttering a remark about her getting old. 

Jinsoul chuckled as she bid them goodbye. She tried not to dwell on her brief feelings of envy toward the two. Each glance they gave one another was filled with an affection Jinsoul only knew slightly. She’d hardly spotted it directed at her, but she knew her eyes had held it before. 

As she went to the next person, one of the youths, Yuqi, she started feeling restless. Her thoughts went to a person who should’ve been taking today off. 

“What happened this time?” Jinsoul gave her a mock glare. She needed to focus on who was here. 

Yuqi blushed. “I might’ve gone too far out.” 

“With others?” She hoped it wasn’t with another girl she knew of, someone who was also getting to be just as reckless as Jungeun could be. 

She shook her head. A bit too quickly. “It wasn’t a really bad spirit. Handled it pretty quickly.” She looked at her arm, which, sure enough, didn’t seem too badly hit. 

Jinsoul set about to cleaning it. She kept silent as she did it. Yuqi was too kind-hearted to leave her in the dark about this sort of thing. 

“We thought it was one of the better ones,” Yuqi murmured. “They usually don’t have that much darkness in them, like this one, but—”

“It was a weaker aggressive one,” Jinsoul finished. She was happy to see Yuqi talking about the benevolent dark spirits as ‘better ones’. The worst thing they could do now was start telling the younger ones that all dark spirits were bad, when they clearly weren’t. Like Yeojin, Yuqi had been old enough to know what Hyejoo’s banishment had meant, but not close enough to her to get angry about it. 

“We—I,” Yuqi sighed. “There were three of us out.” 

She stifled a smile. “But they’re not hurt?”

She shook her head. “We were all working together. No one lost too much light.”

Jinsoul nodded. “That’s the best way to do it.” The bleeding had mostly stopped, so she just wrapped it in a moonlight-water-infused cloth. It’d be fully healed by morning. 

Yuqi’s blush strengthened. “But we still shouldn’t have done it.”

She grinned. “Nope.”

“It was my idea,” a new voice said. It was deeper than most, but not as deep as Yuqi’s. 

Jinsoul turned to see Yeojin strolling into the tent. She was both smiling and frowning at the same time. 

“We’ve all been bored here. I wanted to find a new place to explore, since the river goes on further than everyone’s been telling us.”

Jinsoul nodded. On good days, she could feel the exact progression along the river. On good days, she could usually find her way based on which part of the river she was at, not through the water exactly, but through how it moved. That didn’t mean the rest were able to do that. A few times, they’d had to go searching for Choerry, Yeojin, or however many of the other younger elves. 

This might’ve been one of them, but they’d come back the moment Yuqi got hurt. Jinsoul silently thanked the moon for keeping that sense in the girls. 

“Did you find it?” Jinsoul asked. She patted Yuqi’s arm. “You’re good. Just don’t explore until we have at least the first quarter again.” 

Yeojin sniffed. “No one needs that much out there.”

“We need it now,” Jinsoul replied. “You were lucky to find a weaker dark spirit today. What if a different one comes? Or a pair?” The mothering role fit more with Jungeun or Haseul, once it had been Yves, but none of them were here. And through being a healer, she’d learned how to be some type of authority. 

A frown was growing. There wasn’t anger, but it was frustration. “We’ll be in a bigger group.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that easy.” 

“You’re just saying that, because we’re young.”

Jinsoul shrugged. “I’m saying that, because it’s dangerous for Jungeun, Yerim, and me too. We don’t need the light for half the things we do, but you do. And Hyunjin and Haseul go in bigger groups too.” 

Yeojin didn’t respond to that. Yuqi was looking between them, cradling her arm. 

“No exploring?” Jinsoul gave the latter a stern gaze, but followed it up with a smile. 

“No exploring,” Yuqi said, giving Yeojin an apologetic look. 

“Fine,” Yeojin sighed. “But it’d be better if we actually learned how to deal with the new spirits.” 

Jinsoul could’ve said that even they didn’t know how to do that, but she didn’t. Not where the others who were injured could hear, nor where Yuqi was still listening. 

The restlessness was still there. Jinsoul wondered if today would be another long day spent waiting for Chuu and Jungeun to finally come back. She still felt a pang of hurt each time it was the two of them going and not Jungeun and Jinsoul. Was that ridiculous of her to think, or justified?

The curtains parted then, revealing Chuu. She looked more worn down than Jinsoul had ever seen her. 

Beside her, Yeojin stiffened, her frown turning into a scowl. 

Jinsoul felt a pang of guilt for not sending them away sooner. As much as Yeojin’s anger was justified, Chuu wasn’t supposed to be on the receiving end for decades on end. None of those three were. 

Chuu held the hateful gaze sent her way for a moment. The fatigue in her eyes just grew, along with defeat. “Jungeun and Yerim will be gone for a few days.” 

“She’s not with you?” Jinsoul asked. 

“Why?” Yeojin spat. 

Jinsoul fought the urge to tell her to leave. 

“They’re following something,” Chuu said. “Heard it in the town there. The two of them went to follow. Jungeun said I should come and tell you.” 

Don’t worry and don’t follow, Jinsoul thought. As always. “Thank you,” she said instead. 

Chuu gave her a small smile. She knew exactly what Jungeun’s words meant. 

“What are they following?” Yeojin asked. Her tone hadn’t gotten any softer. 

Chuu winced. “A surge in stories. We couldn’t tell if it was a spirit or something else.” There was no flicker in her eyes or waver in her voice. 

Jinsoul watched as Yuqi nodded and Yeojin’s expression reverted to a frown. They believed her. Jinsoul would’ve, but somehow she knew it was a lie. She was caught off guard by how she knew that, but also at how well Chuu lied. Had she always been like that? Did Jungeun know that? With how close they'd gotten, Jinsoul hoped so. 

______

Author's Note

For this chapter, I wanted a little bit of everything. I wanted the past to evaluate a little bit more about the previous chapter, but also to move things along with Olivia's situation on the other side. My bridge between them is the future and how it can be both an uncertain suggestion and a direct view into what's to come. 

With the concept of soulmates, I'd have to say I'm a er for it, but I can't help but think what it'd be like if things didn't go as planned. On the other end, we've got the path between Choerry, Jungeun, and Olivia. Chuu wasn't able to see it, but Choerry was. Chuu could've gone with them, but she didn't. To round it all off, I wanted to show you a bit more from Jinsoul's perspective and what she actually does for the Astra. 

Regardless, this is a story with many threads. They're all connected, either right now or further down the line, promise. However, it'll be taking a while to fully weave this story together. It's plan I had from the beginning, so I'll be keeping at it, but I hope it's a journey you'll also be enjoying. 

Would love to know your thoughts! See you next chapter.