Waking Yerim up had been easy. Jinsoul had used a mixture the girl herself had made stocks of. Dim purple eyes had opened. Then they’d immediately squeezed shut as a cry left her. 

Dirt had risen from the ground to cover her eyes. 

“I know,” Jinsoul had said. “It burns, but I need you to make a place for us. Until it wears off." 

Yerim had just nodded. The ground had risen in an arc to encase them all completely. 

They were far enough away from camp, but it was best if Yerim was as far away as possible, while still being close enough so that no spirits would try to approach. Even if there was no light being shone on her, just the presence could be painful. And Yerim had gone through enough. Jinsoul still couldn't believe she hadn't been with her. She should've gone after her the moment she knew she was gone. 

Jungeun summoned a flame without any moonlight. It had an easy orange glow. 

Jinsoul could’ve easily done that with a fire sigil or taken a stick and cloth to make a torch. She could’ve done all that, but then it would’ve only been her with Yerim. She wouldn’t have had Jungeun sitting beside her as she cleaned Yerim’s wounds with unlit water. Maybe it was selfish, but she'd asked Jungeun to come with her. 

The cuts along her skin and the bite on her shoulder could’ve been healed with light, but she couldn’t risk anything going wrong with the other light. If too much darkness was difficult to treat, then too much light was even worse. 

“Why did you act as the bait?” Jinsoul asked. “You almost died. Couldn’t Yeojin and Hyunjin have helped?”

Yerim’s tired eyes sharpened then. She looked to Jungeun. 

Jinsoul followed that exchange. She watched as Jungeun nodded. Not for the first time, she saw that they had something she wasn't a part of. She felt a pang of hurt. 

Then the edges of the small cave sparked to life with tiny flames. Sigils formed. Against sound, even though they should’ve been out of earshot. 

“They wouldn’t have helped,” Yerim said, her voice hoarse. From the screaming? Or thirst?

Jinsoul still handed her a waterskin of untainted water. “Of course they would’ve helped.” She knew that Hyunjin would’ve rather died than let Yerim risk her life. And Yeojin, despite her anger and any potential grudges, would’ve fought with Yerim as well. 

Yerim shook her head. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “They would’ve died trying.”

There was a deep certainty in those words, something that shouldn’t have been in the girl’s voice. 

“I-I,” she looked up at Jinsoul, eyes now tearful, “I saw Hyunjin’s path disappear. I knew it would’ve happened—I know she would’ve died had I not tried something.”

Word by word, the truth sank in. 

“You’re a seer.”

Yerim flinched. For a moment, Jinsoul thought she’d tugged on a cut wrong. 

It’d only been a reaction to the word. She was scared of it. She was scared of what Jinsoul would think. 

“For how long?” Jinsoul asked. 

“A few years,” Yerim replied. She glanced at Jungeun once, uncertain. 

“You knew then as well?” Jinsoul asked the other girl. 

Jungeun’s expression crumpled. Seeing the guilt was painful, but Jinsoul was still too confused. It was too much information in too little time. 

“We hid it for as long as we could,” Jungeun said. “We barely knew what any of it was, but Yerim didn’t want either of us worrying.”

“But she told you?” And neither of you told me?

She shook her head. “What she was seeing, she freaked out on a patrol. Jiwoo was there too, I mean, she’d known what was happening, I—” She bit her lip. 

“Chuu’s a seer too,” Jinsoul said. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised. If she was in a better headspace, she’d have been able to remember the signs of that. Chuu had often had bursts of seriousness, moments where she knew exactly what to do. 

“And no one can know about that either,” Jungeun said. “She has her own reasons. Some’re Yerim’s too now.”

Yerim wore a look Jinsoul knew well. It hurt her even more. Yerim hadn't felt safe telling her. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t—I didn’t—tell you,” Yerim said. “Me having this—the Astra would hate it. It’d be like coming here for the first time, but,” she trailed off. 

Worse, Jinsoul finished in her head. “But I’d never think like that.” How had Yerim gone years with this secret? Why had she never told her? 

To quell the doubt and confusion, she gently dabbed at Yerim’s leg. It was a nasty wound. She could feel the heat of it through the cloth. Jinsoul cooled the water, before adding more.  

“You hate that the Astra can see the future,” Yerim said. “Just like how we hate how the emotion and mind readers work.” She lowered her head. “It was stupid, I know, but even though Chuu told me I could tell you, she hasn’t even told Gowon or Yves about it.” 

“And how long has she known?”

“Almost all her life,” Jungeun said. 

Jinsoul had rarely needed to keep a secret, let alone for very long. Something to keep buried for years, a lifetime? She couldn’t imagine it. 

“I don’t really know what I’m seeing yet,” Yerim sighed, “people I think’ll get hurt, I follow them just to watch them trip over a root. Then I see the paths people go, ones that even normal animals do, and I barely know how to sift through it.”

“And where does Chuu come in?”

“She’s teaching me how to see,” she said. “Slowly. I can’t get it right, but it’s better now.” Her lip trembled slightly. She blinked several times. The tears were about to come. She could feel them building. 

It was exactly the sign Jinsoul needed. She shoved down whatever hurt she was feeling. This hadn’t been her secret. It hadn't even really been Jungeun's. 

“I know I couldn’t help much,” Jinsoul leant over and pulled her in for a hug, “but I would’ve been there every day. Just like I’ll be now.” 

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I can give you all the reasons—excuses for—”

“You don’t have to. At least not now.” She pressed a kiss to her temple. 

Yerim finally relaxed. Jinsoul felt tears soak into her shoulder. She tightened her grip as well. 

Yes, she didn’t like seers. She didn’t like how they had to put so much trust in them, but she hadn’t ever been able to deny that they needed seers too. What she’d never thought about was that seeing the future was difficult. She’d just caught a glimpse of that now. 

And she hadn’t been there for Yerim during any of it. She’d just been telling her to grow more herbs. 

Jungeun and Chuu had been helping her master another application of her magic. 

Speaking of. “Come here,” Jinsoul muttered. 

Moments later, another set of arms engulfed them. They added even more warmth to the cold night. Yerim relaxed further, while Jinsoul found herself leaning into Jungeun's touch. 

“Is this why you never let me on patrols? They were training sessions?”

“Yeah,” Yerim replied. “But you were also busy.”

Jinsoul sighed. “You both keep saying that, but I can make time for other things. You just never let me.” She lifted her hand and pinched Jungeun’s cheek. 

“We’re almost on one now,” Jungeun said. When she pulled away, her eyes were shining. 

“Not so fast,” Jinsoul gave her a look, “you already broke your bed-rest period.”

She laughed. "You asked me to be here." 

With the warmth of Jungeun's arms still there and Yerim securely in Jinsoul’s own arms, she felt a lightness in her chest. When was the last time they’d all been together like this? When was the last time Jungeun had even come close to holding her? 

A part of her was glad to finally have an explanation. The other part knew that it was Yerim’s behaviour that made sense now. Jungeun’s still didn’t. 

She rid her mind of those questions. She’d gotten one explanation and the three of them were here together. She’d be alright with that. For now. 

“But why go off by yourself?” Jinsoul asked. “What if you’d have gotten away together?”

Yerim shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to do,” she laid her head on Jinsoul’s lap, “my path was fine.”

Then Jungeun stiffened. “What happened to it when you ran?”

A pause. 

“It vanished.”

Hearing the words wasn’t a surprise. What took her aback was how Yerim said them. Her voice was painfully quiet, while her eyes didn’t meet Jungeun’s or Jinsoul’s. 

“But it came back,” Yerim said. “And it did as I was trying to fight it.”

Jinsoul ran her fingers through her hair. That Yerim had been alone in the first place rubbed her the wrong way. She could've been there. 

Jungeun took Yerim’s hand. “And you did it.”

“Hypnos saved me,” Yerim smiled, “you heard they can kill each other, right?” 

Jinsoul nodded. “And he didn’t turn.” 

She shook her head. Already, her eyes were starting to droop. 

Jinsoul watched as Jungeun kept brushing her thumb over Yerim’s hand. Then it dawned on her. 

What Yerim had done, it was so like Jungeun, only she’d known exactly what risk she’d been taking. That wasn’t to say that Jungeun wouldn’t have done the same, but she couldn’t have. 

Yerim had. And she’d used that responsibility to change whatever she could whenever she had the chance. Jinsoul felt both enormously proud at how she took things into her hands, but also scared of how far she’d go. 

She’d been ready to do anything to save Hyunjin and Yeojin. Not many were willing to go that far. But when did it get too far? Yerim could save lives without risking her own. She had the potential to be one of the most well-rounded healers Jinsoul had ever seen. She was patient and everyone liked her. 

But Yerim also had a view into the future that only a select few had. How could Jinsoul to tell her not to use it? How could she tell her to turn a blind eye to any of that? All to make sure she was safe? What about the others whose lives she could save?

That is, unless she wasn’t alone. Unless they helped her. 

“Need to make an exit?” Yerim murmured, breaking the silence. 

The earth on the far end crumbled. 

“Go eat,” Yerim said. “Knock when you need me.” She made to move off Jinsoul’s lap. Amazingly, a small glow had returned to her eyes. Jinsoul didn't know how that could've happened. None of them were giving her any light. 

“I’ll stay.” Jinsoul pulled her back.

Jungeun hadn’t moved. “Me too.”

Jinsoul frowned. “The moon’s out. You need that.”

“So do you.”

Yerim chuckled. “Your paths are tied no matter what you do.” A pause. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be sleeping too.” 

Jungeun reached out with her other hand and took Jinsoul’s. Her skin, like always, was wonderfully warm. “Have you even had something to eat today?” Her red eyes had gotten brighter. 

“I’m okay with being a lone cave dweller,” Yerim said. “Especially after you patched me up.” 

Jungeun squeezed her hand. Naturally, the firelight suited her. It bathed her hair in flickering orange and caught in her eyes. It was if her irises held actual flames. Sometimes, Jungeun could actually have eyes of fire, but only when she used her magic, was angry, or scared. Now it was just something natural. Jinsoul preferred that. 

“I’ll be back later,” Jinsoul said. “With your food.”

“And what about your other patients?” The corner of Yerim’s lip was tugging up. It was a bit too much of a knowing smile for Jinsoul’s liking. 

“One’ll be with you,” Jungeun replied. “Two birds with one stone.” 

Yerim all but giggled. Jinsoul fought the urge to pinch her arm. 

The two of them left then. The entrance was sealed again with dirt. 

Jinsoul spotted Yeojin a small way’s away. 

“You just have to knock,” she told her. 

Yeojin shook her head. “How is she?” No anger in her voice or expression. It emphasised how young she still was. How young Yerim was as well. How young Hyejoo still was. 

“Better.”

She nodded. Guilt came over her features. Of course. She didn’t know why Yerim had done what she did, not really. She probably just believed that if she had been with her, Yerim wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Hyunjin would be thinking the same, but worse too. 

“Don’t blame yourself,” Jungeun said, a warm smile on her face. “You—”

“I wanted to see it,” Yeojin said. “Where it happened. She came along. Hyunjin too.” She looked at the ground. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t,” she broke off. A deep breath. “If I’d just stayed, none of this would’ve happened.” 

“Hyunjin would’ve gone anyway.” Jungeun spoke softly, but the certainty in her voice was plain. Yeojin looked up. “And she would’ve been followed, like you had been.” A pause. “Without either of you there.”

Some of the tension in her shoulders eased, but not completely. Jinsoul knew she was about to cry. She'd rarely seen her cry.

“I wasn’t there for them,” Yeojin muttered. “I’m sorry.” The first tear fell. “You‘re always trying to protect her and then I–”

Jinsoul pulled her into a hug. She wasn’t sure when she’d last hugged Yeojin, or even if she ever had. 

But Yeojin just wrapped her arms around her waist. I’m sorry came over and over again. 

“This wasn’t your fault,” Jinsoul said. She wasn’t good with words. Not like Jungeun. “It wasn’t anyone’s.” Except for Alluin, but she still didn’t know what the story was there.

A part of her wanted to blame the moon, but how could she do that to something that’d been able to save as many as it’d saved? Where it gave the ability to kill, it also gave the means to heal. Where it was the reason for spirits (probably), it was also the reason why someone like Yerim had the ability to stop terrible things from happening. 

Yeojin pulled away. “I guess,” she murmured. She wiped her eyes. Then she smiled at them, weakly. “Thanks.” 

With that, she turned away. She didn’t look back, but her shoulders weren’t hanging down. There was still grey around her, but it wasn’t anything worrying. 

Jungeun’s hand found Jinsoul’s again. The simple gesture gave her more comfort than it should’ve. Jinsoul had to stop herself from looking over. She didn’t know if she’d be able to manage it without closing the distance. She knew that now wasn’t the time for it. She also knew that Jungeun wasn’t ready. She rarely was. 

______

Jinsoul looked exhausted. It wasn’t anything to do with shadowed eyes, but instead with her posture. And the look in her eyes when she thought Jungeun was focused on her food. 

They’d chosen a spot by the river, away from the rest. Jinsoul was also refilling the waterskins. Jungeun hadn’t seen the process in a while. She’d almost forgotten the beauty of it. That might’ve been one reason why she’d stopped looking. 

“Your food’s getting cold,” Jungeun said. 

With a slow arc of her hand, a stream of glowing water filled a waterskin. 

“I’ve got you for that.” A broad smile began to appear. Her right eye glittered blue, while the other shone white. Some found their eyes unnerving. Jungeun found the blue and silvery-white just as beautiful as when both eyes were blue. 

“You took three bites.”

Jinsoul’s brow rose. “You counted?”

Jungeun blushed. 

The water fell back down into the river. There was no splash. 

Jinsoul took up her plate and held it out. 

Jungeun could only stare. That was all it took? 

“What?” Her smile grew. “I’m not as stubborn as you.”

She put her hand beneath the plate and warmed it. She also let the air around the food heat up. 

“Thanks.” Jinsoul started to eat again. She hummed a small tune. Jungeun remembered a time when Jinsoul hadn't sung. It'd been the first few years of coming here. At some point, she'd started again. Jungeun remembered how excited she'd been. She still didn't know the exact reason. 

“Have you been singing lately?” The blue-eyed elf also had a lovely voice, as if the rest of her qualities weren’t enough. She’d always said Jungeun should join her. Jungeun’d always refused. 

She nodded. “We had a little performance last month.” 

“Really?” How had she missed that? 

“You,” Jinsoul began,” were taking care of a spirit pair. That battle in the south.”

“Oh.”

Jinsoul hadn’t said it, but she didn’t have to. She also wouldn't show her disappointment. Jungeun had lost track of everything that meant “us”. Now, she only really knew about Jinsoul’s healing, not anything else. 

“I’m sorry.”

Jinsoul stared at her. “For?” Her left eye had turned blue. 

“A lot.” Everything, she thought. “We should’ve told you sooner. Yerim’ll say it was all her, but I could’ve tried harder—I could’ve convinced her that you’d have never thought worse of her. I always knew you wouldn’t.”

No response. 

Jungeun didn’t need one. She wasn’t finished. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there last month. You were probably nervous.” Even if she had no reason to be, with that voice. “And I’m sorry I’ve never been here. With you—for you—I mean,” she took a breath, “here.”

Jinsoul was still silent. Now she could’ve used an answer. 

“But I’ll do things different. Now that you know, you’ll be with us for patrols. Jiwoo’s also there for helping Yerim handle things, but she won’t always be. It can just be us three. And then we can help Yerim thought things, like when she follows the darker paths of people who need help. Anything like that, you’ll be in on it. And then—”

She broke off when Jinsoul threw her arms around her. The food was forgotten again. 

The scent of water filled her nose. She could barely remember where her apology was going. 

“It’s okay,” Jinsoul said, burying her face in her neck. “It’s okay.” Then she chuckled. 

“What?” She wondered if Jinsoul would feel her blush. That’d be embarrassing. 

“We,” she said. “It’s been years since we did anything.” Another laugh. Her grip on Jungeun tightened. 

Jungeun was stunned where she sat. Jinsoul was—how could she describe her? Jungeun only knew that she was wonderful. And that she had too much faith in Jungeun. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve that for as long as Jinsoul had trusted her for. She didn’t know how Jinsoul found it so easy to forgive her for the past years. 

Tears pricked at her eyes. She blinked them away. Then she realised it was no use. Hiding tears was impossible around anyone with water magic. 

Jinsoul pulled away, a frown already forming. “Does something hurt?”

She shook her head. 

“Then why?” Blue eyes scanned Jungeun’s face. 

Jungeun knew then that she should’ve actually just said she was in pain. “Nothing serious.”

It got her a look. “I thought we were being honest now.”

She had her there. And Jungeun owed it to her. 

“I realised how terrible I really am.” 

Jinsoul’s brow furrowed. “That’s not—”

“It’s true,” she said. “I didn’t just lie to you for years, but I left you here. We never did the things you loved doing—not patrol, or seeing the fae, or elves—none of it.” 

“We did something,” Jinsoul muttered. She was giving her a look she couldn’t read. Then again, that wasn’t saying much. 

“Not enough. Finding Viian, or the yearly visit doesn’t count.” 

“I like those visits.” A small smile. “Seeing you with your family. With your friends.”

“But—”

Jinsoul shifted to cup her face. “I could’ve done those things whenever. I can always make time for it. We’re getting enough healers now too.” Her thumb brushed across Jungeun’s cheek, wiping away the other fallen tears. In the back of her mind, Jungeun knew Jinsoul could’ve just done this with her magic. “But those trips are boring if you’re not with me.”

“And Yerim’s sigil works better.” Jungeun had had terrible trips through the earth, because some people were just too sloppy with their sigils. 

She smiled. “Yeah.” 

Her eyes burned again. “You didn’t exactly make me feel better.”

Jinsoul forced Jungeun to look at her. Just how close were they? 

“How about this, you go on a trip, patrol, anything, and if you make time for me—and Yerim—then I’ll always have time for you.” 

“And if someone’s having a child?”

Jinsoul rolled her eyes. “We don’t get many and you know it.”

Jungeun had to laugh. “I do.” 

She pinched her cheek. “So don’t start looking for a way out.” 

There was a moment fo comfortable silence. Jungeun still wasn’t sure if she’d explained herself properly yet. She probably hadn’t. 

And then she realised that Jinsoul still had her hands on her face. She was still looking at her with gentle eyes. There was nothing but warmth there. Just looking into them made something in Jungeun's chest twist, while also making it feel lighter. Whatever cold she still felt from the darkness had faded too. 

It was too much. Was the smell of water getting stronger? Jungeun realised that something could happen here. Something she wasn't prepared for. 

“I think I know why everything that happened happened,” Jinsoul said slowly. “So I don’t need you feeling bad about it. There’s nothing I have to forgive you for.” 

Despite her mind being a mess, Jungeun knew exactly how she wanted to deny that. Jinsoul didn't have to forgive her for it, but she had a lot to apologise for. 

“Let me finish.” Her gaze was sharp, but still warm. “All I need is for us to not be like that anymore.”

“We won’t,” Jungeun promised. “And if we start, you’ll tell me.” 

She got the sense then that more could’ve been said then—that more should’ve been said then. 

The hands on her face shifted. Jinsoul’s gaze became more intense. The silence became strained. Jungeun didn’t know what to do. It was more than she could handle. Telling the truth and all that came with it had pushed her limits. Now she was well past them. 

Jinsoul pulled away. Her bottom lip had been pulled between her teeth. 

“I’ll tell you,” her smile grew, “promise.” There was something off in her eyes. Was it disappointment? Or relief?

Jungeun still felt on edge, as if she hadn’t done or said something she should’ve. She was both disappointed and relieved by that. More disappointed. Confused too. 

______

Chuu knew Sooyoung was waiting for an explanation, one she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, give her. 

Already, she pushed the guilt down. It’d be more obvious that she was avoiding the truth, but that was alright. Maybe even better. 

They sat around the fire, once again, in the midst of dinner. Chaewon had tried to make it, but as always, she’d been distracted. Now, the chicken had a slight charred taste to it. With enough seasoning, it tasted fine. They’d each laughed about it, but now they’d sunken into another silence. They had things to talk about, that wasn’t the problem. They just couldn’t talk about it in the camp. 

“Look,” a harsh voice cut through the uneasy silence, “I’m sorry for earlier.” 

Chuu fought the urge to gape. Yeojin was standing there and she wasn’t looking at them with complete hatred. 

“Choerry doesn’t feel like I do, I know. And you were just trying to help,” Yeojin said. A pause. She looked between them, shifting her eyes away as if the eye contact burned. “So thanks for that." She squared her shoulders and walked away. 

Chuu nearly went after her. She didn’t. It was a bad idea and she didn’t even have to look into the future for that. 

She looked too Sooyoung instead. She was as surprised as Chuu. The same for Chaewon.

“So we’re going out there tomorrow?” Chaewon asked. “Or asking around again?”

“Should we?” Sooyoung asked. She was looking directly at Chuu. 

Her stomach twisted at the word choice. Why was Sooyoung asking her? 

She continued before Chuu’s mind could spiral more. “Do you think they’ll be okay with that? Or should we,” she trailed off, looking over to one end of camp. 

Chuu found a proper response then. “Focus on getting the spirits around us?” She liked that idea a lot more. 

Sooyoung nodded. 

Chuu did the same. “We’ll be more useful that way. I’ll tell Jungeun about what we heard. She can tell Haseul or Hyunjin.” And they’d tell Heejin. She knew well enough that the girl wouldn’t trust a word out of their mouths. She hadn’t before and she wouldn’t tomorrow. That was their reality now. 

“Then that’s what we do.” Sooyoung’s face warmed with a smile. 

The corners of her own lips rose. 

Chuu looked back at the fire. It only took a smile to tug at the bond. A bond she still hadn’t freed them from, even though she tried. 

“How’re you feeling?” Chuu asked Chaewon. The bond was still grey, but it had thin tendrils of silver. 

Chaewon’s hand twitched towards her chest. Then it fell. “Like always.”

That meant it still ached. Chuu didn’t know how a constant pain like that was supposed to feel. She wished Chaewon could share it, then they could at least make it bearable. 

“Sure we shouldn’t go to the healers?” Sooyoung suggested. 

Immediately, Chaewon shook her head. No path appeared that went to the healers. The one that went to their tent had grown brighter. 

“Not the best time for that.” 

“And Jinsoul?” Chuu hadn’t really talked much to her, ever, but she knew from Jungeun and Yerim that the girl didn’t hate them. 

“She’s got a lot to deal with,” Chaewon stabbed at her food, “and this isn’t killing me.”

Just the thought made Chuu wince. 

Then Chaewon smiled. It was weak. “Don’t start worrying about me too. Neither of you have big enough heads for that.”

Sooyoung lightly kicked her leg, while Chuu chuckled. 

Silence came over them as Chuu made their tear. This was a blend of ginger powder and lemon. Yerim had gifted her the powder last month. 

She glanced up now and then. Chaewon stared at the space in front of her, while Sooyoung was looking between her and Chuu. She could barely decipher the look Sooyoung gave her. 

A question bubbled up in . She pushed it down and turned her attention back to the now glittering cups of tea. She handed them out. 

Chaewon nodded her thanks. She sipped it, before cringing at the heat. 

“Thanks, Jiwoo,” Sooyoung said as she took her cup. She held Chuu’s gaze then. 

Again, Chuu felt warmth stir in her chest. Just being near Sooyoung made her feel at ease. It always had, even before she’d seen the bond, even before said bond had started getting brighter. 

When they sat apart, the bond dimmed, like a candle. But it always glowed again whenever Sooyoung decided she’d close the distance. 

Chuu saw the flicker of hurt when she moved away again. It always made her feel worse, but she let it. No part of her was willing to do something so drastic that it’d break the bond. Or Sooyoung’s heart. The only thing she could do was take gradual steps in distancing herself and turning Sooyoung away. The lies could be even more obvious and Sooyoung could stop seeing her as a friend, but Chuu would never abandon her to get what she wanted. 

That’d also mean leaving Chaewon, who needed both of them there. It just wouldn’t work. 

And Chuu couldn’t either. Was it selfish of her? Or was she just being weak? Probably both. 

“Seunghee told me about the fight,” Chaewon said. “Choerry let a bright spirit follow her. She tried to control its light.”

Chuu felt ice spread along her skin. Yerim had seen something She wouldn’t have taken a risk like that otherwise. 

But even if she’d seen it, the action alone was way too risky. Chuu had felt that change hours before it’d happened. She’d felt Yerim’s light leave her. 

Yerim had always looked up to Jungeun, Jinsoul, and Hyunjin. Their selflessness was what Yerim respected above all. 

Chuu had hoped Yerim would follow Jinsoul’s lead with healing and stepping in from the sidelines. But she was veering towards the front, sidestepping Hyunjin’s occasional rash decisions and going straight for Jungeun’s recklessness. 

Chuu worried about that. What Jungeun did was as admirable as it was dangerous. When she’d first seen Jungeun save someone’s life, it’d been when vampires had caught them off guard. Chuu had been in awe of how quickly Jungeun had changed to help Nina, pinned under a ravenous vampire. She’d gotten way to close just to burn him with her hands. He’d let go. Another had bitten her in turn. And despite the exhaustion from the venom, Jungeun had handled the situation perfectly. She’d also nearly died in the process. 

That day had gotten her a fair amount of respect, but Jungeun hadn’t stopped there. She’d stepped in again and again, sometimes coming away unharmed, other times completely beaten down. Then she was trying it again. 

Chuu knew that Jinsoul worried the most. She knew Jinsoul had picked up on how dangerous Jungeun’s actions were to herself. Her worry radiated from her each time Jungeun left. That usually showed itself as a grey tinge to one's light. 

And if Yerim started doing the same, it’d terrify Jinsoul. Chuu wasn’t sure if the healer could handle it. 

Chuu probably couldn’t either. 

“Where are you?” Someone had sat right beside her. 

The tension in her chest eased. 

Chuu closed her eyes. “Where’s Chaewon?”

“Tired.” Sooyoung’s tone showed her disbelief. It was nearing the yearly polishing of Hyejoo’s swords. Or was that today?

Silence. 

Chuu found clarity in her thoughts with Sooyoung so close. Enough that she could expect another set of questions from Sooyoung. Enough that she could prepare what lies she’d tell. 

“Should we really stop looking?” Sooyoung asked. 

Chuu nodded. 

She looked between Sooyoung and the fire. The flames reflected well in her eyes. Except Sooyoung seemed close to breaking down. 

Chuu chose the fire, while Sooyoung chose to look at her. Her gaze had the bond humming. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Nothing died on her lips. That wouldn’t work. Sooyoung would just press her for more. 

“A lot’s coming together,” Chuu admitted. “Too quickly.”

Somehow, Sooyoung looked relieved. “It’s a lot,” she said. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing.” A sigh. “I don’t know what to do.” 

Chuu didn’t either. Not through her sight at least. “We at least know we shouldn’t look for her.”

The words hadn’t helped. 

Sooyoung’s gaze went to the sky. For the help Chuu couldn't give?

“It’s dangerous for the people looking,” Chuu said. “We can make that part easier for them.” 

“Hunts or patrol?” 

A simple question, but Chuu heard a greater weight in it. Patrol meant joining Jungeun. 

She shrugged. “What’s more efficient?”

“What do you like more? Both work.” Now Sooyoung looked at the fire. 

“Both’re risky,” Chuu replied. “Don’t really like either more.” She shrugged again. “But patrol takes us through towns. If you want to join Teveril when they’re next there, you can.” 

Sooyoung gave her a look. It’d been the wrong thing to say. 

Good, Chuu thought. 

“That’s not what I want.”

Chuu raised her hands. “Then don’t go.”

Her brow rose. “That’s it?”

Chuu frowned. “What do you mean that’s it? You don’t want it, so we don’t do it.” 

Sooyoung looked taken aback. 

She got to her feet. “I’m on patrol with Joshua. We’ll see what we do tomorrow.”

“You’re,” Sooyoung started. Then she shook her head. 

Chuu found herself wanting to know what she’d wanted to say. She stopped herself from asking. 

Sooyoung’s deep red eyes looked up. There was irritation there, but Chuu saw none of the strength from earlier. She just saw the uncertainty that’d started peeking through again. It’d been at its worst after they’d abandoned Hyejoo. Then Sooyoung had smothered it, but not overcome it. 

Chuu could’ve so easily sat back down. She even saw the path for staying with Sooyoung. That meant that even the moon wanted her to sit down. And if she sat down, she'd reach out to Sooyoung, ask the right questions, and let the girl spill her thoughts and doubts. That’d quell some of that uncertainty. 

But it’d also lead to closing the distance Chuu needed to maintain. Sooyoung would unconsciously, or consciously, forgive her when she shouldn’t. 

No, someone else had to give her that opportunity. Maybe she’d try to convince Priad and the rest to take Sooyoung and Chaewon to the mortal town. 

So, instead of reaching out, Chuu said, “I’ll see if Jungeun’s still awake. Then I’ll let her know what we’re planning.” 

Had Sooyoung known Jungeun well, she would’ve known how poor of a lie it was. She would’ve known not to be jealous. That she was sensitive at all to the mention of Jungeun was a bad sign. 

So now, Chuu had to watch as Sooyoung’s expression faltered. Her confident, yet easy, smile appeared. Her gaze had shuttered, removing all vulnerability that’d been there. 

“Okay,” Sooyoung said. Her gaze softened a touch. “Stay safe.”

Chuu nodded. “You too.” Oddly enough, her path shifted away from where she was meeting Joshua. She followed it. 

It took her to Jinsoul. Of all the people in camp, she hadn't expected that. 

She gave her a kind smile. “Did I thank you properly yet?” Jinsoul asked. “Because thank you.” 

Chuu shook her head. “I wasn’t doing the fighting.” 

“Maybe,” Jinsoul tilted her head, “but none of us knew. You did.”

The words and the knowing gaze struck her. Jinsoul knew she was a seer. 

“Jungeun?”

A nod. She told me. “Yerim’s okay too.” I know about her as well. 

Chuu felt both relieved and scared. She was happy that Yerim didn’t have to lie to a person who was essentially her sister. She was also glad that Jungeun didn’t have to lie either. That’d affected her more than it had Yerim. Chuu had yet to understand what their actual bond was like, both as three and separately. They hadn’t known each other all their lives as most Astra had. And yet they’d grown closer than other Astra had in a fraction of those years. 

“What about you?” Jinsoul’s eyes were surprisingly intense. 

Chuu raised a brow. “Unharmed.”

She sighed. “I meant how you were.” 

They started walking. Off the path both had been walking. Sometimes, people kept walking away from their future without even knowing it. Heejin was one of those people, so were Jungeun and Haseul. Sooyoung too. 

Chuu smiled. “Very tired,” she admitted. “You?”

Jinsoul’s smile reappeared. Chuu saw exactly why Jungeun was still enraptured by her. “Same. I’m crashing before the sun rises.”

Chuu laughed. “I wish I could. I’ve still got patrol.”

The other girl looked at her, the beginnings of astonishment appearing. 

“What? Don’t believe me?”

“I do,” Jinsoul said. “Doesn’t mean it’s not a shock.”

She didn’t say it , but the reason why was clear. Most Astra put patrol beneath them. Interacting with mortals, let alone fairies, wasn’t appealing either. 

“I guess I started liking it.”

That was when she saw it. She’d said the wrong thing without meaning too. 

Jinsoul’s brow twitched and she looked away. 

Chuu immediately wanted to tell her the truth: there was nothing going on with Jungeun, Jungeun’s eyes were only on her and not Chuu, while Chuu’s heart still—

“Jungeun’s sleeping,” Jinsoul muttered. “Just so you know.” Her tone was final. Let’s stop here. 

So Chuu wracked her brain for a different subject. She wanted to talk to her about Yerim and what’d help, but this wasn’t the right place for that. 

“We’re not looking for her anymore,” Chuu said. “Probably more hunts, maybe patrol if Sooyoung and Chae want to.”

Jinsoul’s brow furrowed. The look in her eyes was awfully close to pity. “Why?” 

“We’ll do a better job there,” she replied. “And we need to get the numbers we’re facing down. Somehow.” 

Jinsoul nodded. 

“So keep that spot free for when Yerim and Jungeun are better,” Chuu suggested. “You could get Yooa and Mimi on that. They knew her.”

They’d even offered to let Hyejoo come with them. Hyejoo had said no. She’d wanted to stay with the Astra—with them. 

Chuu felt a lump rise in . Yes, not looking for her was the right choice. 

“It’s a good idea,” Jinsoul said softly. She put a hand on Chuu’s arm. “The rest we’ll figure out.” Her blue eyes were kind and surprisingly full of understanding. 

Chuu found herself believing that she did. Was that how Jinsoul always was? Was this what she’d learned by being a healer? Or was it just the person Jinsoul was. 

She wanted to ask Jungeun, but wasn’t sure if that’d ever be the right thing to ask. Two things could follow there. She could trigger exactly the wrong emotion, or Jungeun would smile, eyes shining, and she’d gush about Jinsoul for several minutes. 

“I hope so.” Chuu fought a sigh. What exactly they should be doing, she really didn’t know. She also didn’t want the moon to tell her. It wasn’t always right. She’d had to learn that. Now she knew it too well. 

______

Author's Note 

Bit more of an exploration of Chuuves and Lipsoul. This is set a bit before the previous chapter (I'm a bit bad at setting things parallel to each other). I enjoy writing both their dynamics. On the one hand, there's the development of soulmates. I always thought a soulmate had the potential to be really beautiful, but also quite the obstacle. That was seen more with 2jin, but with Chuu and Yves, it'll also be quite prevalent. Except here the two are actually bonded to each other. 

Let me know your thoughts, if you have any about the two pairings, or others. Reading your comments always motivates me while writing. 

Thank you for reading and supporting this story as you have! See you next chapter.