Seeing Heejin and Viian walk back together was surprising. That it’d been so soon was also unexpected. 

Haseul didn’t spot any corrupt light or injury on Viian. Nothing big at least. 

“Any news?” Heejin asked. She looked more tired than angry. 

She shook her head. “But Jungeun’s getting better. The light in Yerim hasn’t spread either.” 

Soon enough, she saw the unspoken question. 

“Nothing else changed,” Haseul said. 

Heejin deflated. “Okay,” she looked between then, “I need to, uh, check on something.” She hurried off then. 

Haseul was torn between going after her and letting her be. Heejin’s love for Hyunjin was unwavering, for better or for worse. 

Viian was looking at her expectantly. When am I going to have other jobs?” she asked. “Today was my first partial guard duty.”

“Tonight,” Haseul corrected. “Today, you’ll be asleep. 

Vivi rolled her eyes. The corners of her lips had tugged up. 

“But you can start tomorrow or the night after, if you need rest.” Haseul starting walking to her tent. Vivi was close behind. “We need the people.”

Viian chuckled. “So I’m able to join that soon?” 

Haseul poked her side. “You managed a few days on your own, I think you’ve earned it.”

She shrugged. “Wouldn’t say that, but I heard you need the numbers.”

“Are you okay if we start training again?” After she said it, she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. She’d just told her that she was ready. Now she was—

“Yeah,” Viian said. “I got lucky out there.” She didn’t elaborate, but Haseul knew there was more. Was she ashamed of something? Or something else. “So I think we can still train?”

Haseul smiled. “We can train.”

They reached the fire-pit soon enough. Viian didn’t have to say it, but the way she eyed the grilled meat was clear. 

Haseul put a generous serving of beef and rise on a plate and handed it to her. 

It was almost funny how surprised the other girl was. It also reminded Haseul of Jungeun when she’d first come here. She’d been taken aback if someone had treated her well. 

Because of that, Haseul just poured her a glass of orange juice. It glittered as well. Almost everything they had was filled with light. She wasn’t even sure if drinking light was better than absorbing it, but it made everything easier. And more enjoyable. 

“Thanks.” Viian took the glass. Then she started eating. She was practically inhaling the food. When was the last time she’d eaten?

“If you go on another trip like that,” Haseul said. “Maybe take a pack.”

She shook her head. “I’m not too bad at hunting. I’d make do.”

“Then why’re you eating as if this is your first meal in days?”

Viian shrugged. “It is.”

Haseul looked at her for a long moment. 

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she glanced at her, “I was in a rush to get here. Hunger made me faster.”

“And then you finished guard with Heejin?” 

Viian chuckled. Her eyes crinkled when she did that. “Haven’t you ever been so involved with something that the hunger faded away?”

War, Haseul thought. “A few times.” 

The other girl’s brow furrowed. Briefly, Haseul wondered if she’d question that. 

“Well, that happened here.” The corner of her lip tugged up. “I think I understand.” Her eyes had a teasing edge. 

Haseul didn’t know what’d brought this change about. Had it been the conversation with Heejin? Or just the time she’d spent alone?

“What?” 

“Why Yeojin says you act like you’re her mother.” 

Haseul felt a laugh bubble up. “I am like her mother, thank you very much.” 

Viian smiled fully. Her eyes formed crescents. 

Haseul felt both stunned and proud. If this wasn’t a rare occurrence, then Viian would be opening up sooner than Jungeun or Yerim had. Jinsoul had taken a long time. Haseul had expected Viian to be more like her than the other two. 

“At least you’re admitting you’re like that,” Viian said. “Even if you’re trying to mother someone older than you.” 

“Sure you’re that much older?” Haseul frowned at her. “You’ve got more moon cycles, but not that many.”

“Moon cycles?” 

“Some of us can see that,” Haseul replied. “It doesn’t always agree with the mortal timeline, but I’d reckon you’re about eight hundred years old.” 

Viian blinked. “You’re right.” She raised a brow. “Moon cycles are practically months. You’re doing all those calculations on your own?”

“What,” she crossed her arms, “you don’t think I know basic mathematics?”

Viian shrugged. “Well it is more of a human skill.”

“We learned it that way,” Haseul said. “Over nine thousand moon cycles is a bit of a mouthful.” 

“Is that all you use the numbers for?” 

She shook her head. “I’ve been trying to quantify moonlight, see how we can divide it between us.” 

Viian looked at her for a few seconds. Had she been another person, Haseul would’ve gotten unnerved by that look. Now, she just really wanted to know what she was thinking. 

“And how’s that been going?” 

Haseul felt her face redden. “Badly,” she admitted. “Just like the way some spirits are filled with more light than others, the same applies to the light we can make.” She summoned a small piece of moonlight. “This could be less potent than something you summon, or twice as strong.” 

A shard formed in Viian’s hand. She looked between it and Haseul’s. 

“This time mine seems to have more,” she muttered. “Why?”

Haseul found herself smiling. “If you ask the fairy who’s on her way, she’ll tell you it’s based on our mood. It probably is, but the amount of light we have also plays a role there.” 

“But you can still control it?” 

She nodded. “Yet you do it without thinking much of it, you’ll just have your current state.” She absorbed her light back. “So you might be in a better mood than me, or you absorbed more light than I did.” 

Viian threw up the piece of moonlight and caught it. She looked at it again, an inquiring look in her eyes. Then she absorbed it. Haseul watched her skin start to glow softly. 

“Who’s on her way?” Viian asked. “Dahyun?”

Haseul wasn’t surprised she knew her. Dahyun was one of the more social emotional fairies. For reasons that weren’t all uplifting, but she’d been open enough to learn crosesh and a few other elven languages. It was almost to be expected that Dahyun would’ve been the one to go between the different clans, if needed. 

“She’s the only help we have when it comes to the bright spirits,” Haseul said. “Something about the things she can counter there.”

Viian’s brow twitched then. There was a type of uncertainty there. Did she know how Dahyun did it? Or something else?

“Is Yerim the only one who’s been injured by a bright spirit?” 

“Of the people we have here,” Haseul nodded, “and she tried to control it. So she really does need whatever Dahyun will give her.”

Viian’s frown made it clear that she had to explain that. 

“Unless it saves your life, don’t try to control a bright spirit’s light. Not even the benevolent type’s.” She remembered trying it on a friendlier spirit. Her mind had been uncomfortably warm for days. “You end up taking in that light and it’s never what you want.” She wracked her brain for how to best describe that. “Did you ever have too much of an emotion? Like accidentally hold some for too long?”

Viian nodded. Of course, she wasn't fazed by the concept. To Haseul, it was still weird to think about emotions being something she could touch. It was a relatively new magic too. Dahyun herself had discovered it.

“It’s that, but it doesn’t fade after a few hours. It takes days. And if it’s from the spirits that attack, it hurts.” She’d never had that pain. She just knew how it felt to have an emotional fairy try and drive an emotion into her head. “Sometimes it can break a person, others it just takes a long time for them to even be able to see light.” 

“And when it comes to controlling it again?” Viian leaned forward. “How long would that take?” There was an edge to her voice. Concern?

“With Dahyun’s help, about a week. If not, I’ve seen it take months for someone to recover.” Usually those who tried to push their limits, convinced that they were strong enough. They never were. 

“Did it pay off?” she asked. “The risk she took.”

“She saved them,” Haseul said. 

Viian just nodded. Her gaze went to the fire. 

All of Haseul wished that there’d been another option. But even then, she knew that Yerim had done the best she could. 

“And what’ve you been doing?” Viian had looked away from the fire. 

Haseul took a moment to process that. “Planning and patrol,” she said. “Had a run-in with a vampire.” She grimaced. “They really like the taste of moonlight.” 

Viian’s eyes trailed elsewhere. Haseul realised she was looking at her neck. 

She reached up to it. The bite marks were faint, but they still hadn’t healed fully. 

“Couldn’t fend it off in time?” Viian asked. Her brow was furrowed, but she was smiling. 

“You’re going to tell me you’re faster than a vampire?” 

She tapped her ear. “I’m not too bad at knowing they’re coming.”

Haseul chuckled. “So you’re saying my hearing’s poor.”

Viian shrugged. “You said it.” A pause. “I’m lucky no vampire came after me. My blood’s been wanted for its uniqueness.” She scoffed. 

“It’s good you weren’t gone that long then.” As soon as she said it, she wondered if that was too much. 

“A few days is short here too?” Viian’s brow rose. 

“We have patrols and people who try going around the world.” 

She smiled. “Right.” 

Haseul was tempted to ask if a few days hadn’t been enough. She also wanted to ask if she was planning on leaving again. It’d be fine based on how many they had on patrol and guard, but they’d probably have to know that first. 

“I didn’t expect I’d miss that much,” Viian said. “If there’s something you need me to do here, you just have to tell me.” 

“You want to be put to work immediately?” Haseul asked. “We usually give people a few days rest, especially if they’ve been awake for a long time.” She had a feeling Viian hadn’t slept since leaving. Especially since she hadn’t gotten accustomed to their nocturnal schedule. 

“I don’t need it.” She tapped a short rhythm on the plate. “Resting means more thinking. And I’ve already had that.” There was something final in the way she spoke.

Haseul got a knot in her stomach then. Maybe Viian had just come back to learn a bit more about moonlight. And then she’d also decided to help more as she did. And then she’d leave. 

Haseul couldn’t exactly fault her for not wanting to stay. There’d been several days when she’d wanted to do the same. 

That bright smile reappeared. “I’m not leaving, if that’s what you were wondering.”

In spite of everything, Haseul felt a part of herself relax then. She shouldn’t have actually cared, but she was still happy to hear it. 

“You think you can tolerate us?” 

“Some of you at least,” Viian shot back, a glint in her eye. 

Haseul laughed. “We’re a big enough group that you can avoid those you don’t like.” 

“Always?”

“There are ways of doing it, Viian," she winked, “we’ll teach you them along with everything else.” 

Viian gave her an unreadable look then. Haseul thought she was getting a better grasp on the nuances by now. Clearly, there were more she still didn’t have settled. 

After a few seconds, she spoke. "Call me Vivi. Then her shoulders loosened fully. She leaned back and tilted her head up to the sky, her pink hair dangling past her shoulders. Her skin was glowing even brighter now. 

It took a few minutes for Haseul to realise she was staring. She was glad no one had been there to notice. 

______

Yeojin looked at the plate in her hands and back to the hut of dirt. There was no sparkle in the water, nor a flicker of light in the meat or sauce. It was weird having no light in her hands or on her skin, but that’s what she needed. 

As she got closer, the wall of dirt parted. The motion was too smoothly to be called crumbling. 

And in that moment, Yeojin knew she couldn’t turn away anymore. She steeled herself, pushing away visions of Yerim’s bloodied form. 

“Hi!” Yerim grinned at her. A small fire burned, but the smell of smoke had been drowned out by fruits and flowers. 

Yeojin was momentarily stunned at the plants strewn across the floor, some even emerging from the walls. 

“Were you planning on moving here?” She half-wondered if that could even be taken as a joke. 

Yerim laughed. “I’m keeping it even after I’m better, so I guess I’m tempted.” She looked around, a fond look in her eyes. 

Yeojin saw that her purple eyes were dimmer than normal. The cuts had healed, save for a thicker scar along her forehead. 

The leg was wrapped in cloth that’d been soaked in water and something else. Yeojin had helped get the water from the river. The other paste was something Yerim had learned to make from some witch. Jinsoul had told her about the different powders and pastes Yerim had created with a very proud smile. 

The light was still in her leg. Yeojin felt uncomfortable looking at it. 

At least there wasn’t a lot of darkness. Nothing was in her heart. 

“It smells.” Yeojin sat down. Then she handed the food and water over. 

Yerim shrugged. “I like it this way.”

There was a small crack on the far end. A gap of about a hand’s width opened. 

“But I can air it out if you like?” 

“No,” Yeojin said hurriedly. “It’s good smells—smells good.” She cringed at how she stumbled over her words. 

She laughed. “If you say so.” She started eating. The hole didn’t close. The strong scents had subsided slightly. 

They sat in a weird silence. Yerim had clearly been very hungry. 

The place was somehow incredibly cozy. There were open pouches and boxes, some filled with crushed herbs, others with seeds. 

Yeojin wondered if this was the main way Yerim had decorated her surroundings before she got the magic of the moon. 

“I knew I needed to do something while in here,” Yerim said. “So I got productive.”

“Aren’t plants hard for you?”

“They were,” she said. Pause. “But I learned it twice, so by now I’m pretty good.”

Learned it twice. That didn’t make any sense. 

Yerim continued before she could ask. “Mind telling me why I saw Vivi before I saw you?” The smile on her face had softened, but, of course, it was there. 

Yeojin had to look away. Her face was growing warm. 

“You know this was because of a bright spirit, right?” Yerim waved at her leg. “I’m very sure you didn’t attack me or split my head open.” She crossed her eyes with a slight chuckle. “Unless I forgot.” Clearly, she expected the words to be funny. 

Yeojin shook her head. “You wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t gone out.”

She shrugged. “I might’ve followed Hyunjin out.”

There was something off there. Yeojin couldn’t place what it was. 

“And if I hadn’t followed you, or you would’ve stayed, it would’ve just been Hyunjin out there.”

Again, Yeojin shook her head. She couldn’t let her justify them going out like they had. It’d been a mistake. “That’s not—” 

Yerim cut her off. “Someone was going to clear out that house. Hyunjin was already ready to go the day she did. You would’ve gone out there at some point, no matter if I’d stopped you that day or not. And with how things are changing, some spirits are bound to cross our path.” The smile was gone. “So if you came to apologise, don’t. This was between me and that snake.” 

It was weird seeing her be serious. It wasn’t that she’d been insincere before when she just smiled, but Yeojin had rarely bought it. She knew that Yerim hadn’t been completely fake, but the positivity had just annoyed her. 

“Yeojin.” She set down her food and turned fully to her. Yeojin didn’t miss the wince when she moved her leg. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“Already been told that,” Yeojin replied. 

Yerim looked at her for a long moment. Then she waved at hand at the far end. The gap in the first closed. There was a small crumbling sound as a branch dug into the dirt. The sigil to muffle sound was carved in all around the hut of dirt. 

That meant two things: either Yerim was going to tell her some secret or she was going to get even. Yeojin wouldn’t even complain if she got a mouth full of dirt or was buried up to her neck. Those had been the rare moments when Yerim had gotten angry at someone else. Either they’d disrespected Jungeun or spoken ill about Hyejoo. 

“I can promise that it wasn’t your fault,” Yerim said. “Everything I did was my decision. What happened to us, the spirits, I knew what I was doing.” 

“How can you know that?” Yeojin gave her a look. “We didn’t see those coming at all.” 

“You didn’t,” she said quietly. “Before, I realised they were coming.” 

“Before?”

Yerim held her gaze. “You need to promise you’ll never tell.”

She could barely guess what it would be. “Promise.”

“I’m a seer,” she said. “Had it after she—Hyejoo was forced out.” 

Yeojin couldn’t believe her ears. “A seer,” she repeated. “Paths and all?” Somehow, it didn't seem like that much of a stretch. In a way, it was amazing that Yerim didn't just have two types of magic, but three. 

“Paths and all.” She nodded. 

“So before,” she started. “You knew the spirit was coming?”

“I knew where you wanted to go,” Yerim said. “And when that bright spirit was coming our way, I–I knew you’d get hurt, and badly, and that Hyunjin,” she faltered. Her eyes fell. 

Yeojin didn’t have to ask what that meant. She knew Yerim had saved their lives. Even if she should've never had to, she had. 

“So it really wasn’t you,” Yerim continued. “It doesn't take much to change a spirit's path. Neither you or Hyunjin could’ve done anything.”

“You didn’t know it was coming when you followed me?” That’d explain a lot about the past years. Had Yerim known about those spirits that’d attacked before? Had she followed to help her?

“Not that time.” Yerim shook her head. “I thought we’d all be alright.” Her lip trembled. “But the future can be unpredictable too.” 

Yeojin frowned. “And you thought taking that spirit on by yourself would help?”

“It did,” she muttered. “I wouldn’t have gotten hurt if we’d have fought it.” A lost look appeared then. “I still don’t know why.”

“So you did something that’d lead to you getting hurt anyway.”

She just shrugged. “It worked.” She smiled. “We survived.” 

“But you can’t use any light,” Yeojin said. “For how long?”

“A few days, depends on how this turns out.” She pointed at her leg. "But I've been cut off from magic before. I know how to get back from there."

Yeojin remembered what she'd said about learning to grow plants twice. "When did you lose your first one? Before you came to us?"

Yerim looked away. "Before I became a seer." 

So after Hyejoo had been banished. 

"Do you think it's connected?" Losing one thing, before regaining it and having another magic? It made sense to her. Even if she'd only ever had one magic (she didn't count sigils and spells). 

After a long moment, Yerim shook her head. "I felt so lost when she was gone. I couldn't believe what they'd done to her." She glanced up at Yeojin once. An uncharacteristic gloom had come over her face. "Getting life to flourish didn't quite fit there. I barely managed to summon a decent piece of light either." 

Yeojin felt a growing sensation of guilt again. 

"But no," Yerim interrupted her thoughts. "I don't think I'll be even more powerful once my magic comes back." She huffed out a laugh. "But if I do, I'll show you." 

They sat there, once again in silence. Yeojin watched as she kept eating. She noticed that her eyes were glowing a bit more. Hyunjin’s eyes were still too dim, so this was a good sign. 

“I feel fine,” Yerim broke the silence, “my head still hurts, yeah, my leg burns, and I’m cold.” The smile returned. She looked more relieved than anything. “But the fairy's coming soon and she'll help. So I’m good."

“Really,” she raised a brow, “because it sounds like you feel terrible.” 

Yeojin winked at her. “That too.”

Yeojin knew this sort of attitude would’ve annoyed her before. Now it made her realise two things. Yerim was a lot stronger than she looked, but also that her smile was used to cover that. And to hide something else. Was that just the fact that she could see the future? Yeojin didn’t know her well enough to tell the difference. A part of her wanted to find out. 

_______

Yves looked at the empty bed. There was another spot beside it. It had no bed at all. 

The sight made her chest ache. She’d let this happen. 

She was surrounded by empty beds. Chaewon would only be back in a few hours. Jiwoo might not be coming back for the entire night. 

Yves left the tent. 

The sleep schedules of elves were as varied as those of mortals. Some were wide awake at this time, others had long since disappeared into their tents. 

Yves was pretty sure she was somewhere in the middle there. Sometimes, the discussions had about vampire or werewolf attacks went right into sunrise. Others, a hunt would take them too far away. They either camped there or used the day to walk back. Those sorts of days usually ended with a sunburn and three days of being exhausted. 

“You’re not doing the search anymore?” 

Yves looked to where the question came. It was Onew. He’d become an elder about ten years ago. Still young, but that was a good sign. He also wasn’t that stubborn. 

She shook her head. “Gave that over to Lisa.” 

“Can I ask why?” His brow furrowed. It didn’t look like a challenge. Just a genuine question. 

Yves looked to the rest. A few had looked over. Most were more involved in whatever conversations they were having. Onew’s own group were currently debating the merits of having a mental fairy sit in on discussions. Surprisingly, it looked like an even debate. No shouting either. 

“We’re not right for it,” Yves said. Jiwoo had said they’d be more useful going after the aggressive dark spirits. She was right, but Yves knew full well that wasn’t the actual reason. 

Onew nodded. “If we do find her,” he began, “we won’t hurt her.” His eyes flicked between hers. “The others just don’t want her too close.” 

Even if she was doing more for them closer than further away. Even if she was closer to the place she called home. 

Yves knew she’d come here to kill someone. She hadn’t. And she’d also stayed here. It hadn’t been for any of them, but for herself. She was in a place she knew, surrounded by towns and cities she’d been to before. She also knew the mortal language here. 

“And what about you?” she asked. Would he posture and say something vague? Or something substantial? 

He held her gaze. “All that has to happen is she moves down a region. After that, the seers’ll barely feel her presence and she can live exactly how she wants to.” 

Yves looked away. She’d never let herself entertain the thought of Hyejoo ever coming back. Not only did she firmly believe that Hyejoo wouldn’t want to, not after everything they’d done to her, but she also knew the Astra wouldn’t accept her. They hadn’t before, not really. They definitely wouldn’t now. 

And Onew was well aware of that, maybe even more than she was. 

“You miss her, I understand that.” Onew smiled then. “Co-existence without crossing paths. That’s what you’re trying to get too, isn’t it?”

Yves gave him a small nod, but said nothing. They'd probably end up taking up patrol. With Jungeun and Choerry out of commission, along with lower numbers because of the search parties, patrol was the clear option. 

Knowing the conversation was over, Onew just said, “good day,” before going back to the rest. 

Yves kept walking. 

Chaewon was a fair distance away, but it was the same place as always. Less than a century ago, she’d never gone there alone. She’d had someone by her side. Yves knew that they’d laugh, talk, bicker, and train. Sometimes, they'd gone there when one or the other had gotten stuck in the past. They'd been there together when one had felt isolated, or an old wound had opened up again. 

And now, it was a place where Chaewon only ever went alone. 

It was by the river. At this time, the moon usually peered through the branches, creating a small space of light. 

Chaewon sat in the centre of it, a gleaming sword in her lap. Her head was bowed, her shoulders hunched over. Yves was reminded of a night of centuries ago. They'd all been younger, far less experienced with the world and the cruelty within it. Each of them had been into the worst of awakenings. Chaewon had come away broken. She'd healed over the years. There had been stretches of time when they'd all believed she'd become whole again. 

But seeing her now, Yves didn't know how long it would take her to get to that state again. She just knew that she'd never leave Chaewon's side until she started healing again. 

“Here to get me to sleep?” Her voice was lower than normal. Harsher too. 

“Here to see how you are,” Yves replied. 

Chaewon looked up. was set in a firm line. Tears streaked down the sides of her face. 

"And now you've seen it.” She started to clean the sword’s shaft.

Go away was the message. 

Yves sat down across from her. She stretched out her legs so her foot brushed Chaewon’s knee. 

She didn’t stop polishing the sword. 

So Yves reached for the other one. 

Chaewon stepped on it. “I haven’t done that one yet.” In her eyes was the same defensiveness of that night. Yves had known then that Chaewon hadn't intended on getting rid of them. Had that been a mistake?

She gave her a look. “Can I at least look at it?” 

The foot lifted. 

Yves unsheathed the blade. There was no sign of wear, not even dust on the hilt. 

She looked back to Chaewon. Her eyes were locked on the sword. There was no mask, not even now when Yves was sitting across from her. All she saw was guilt and pain. It hurt her just as much. 

“Why do you still have these?” 

Chaewon stiffened. “I’m not getting rid of them.” 

It was exactly the reaction Yves hadn’t wanted to see. 

“Why?”

No response. 

“I’m not telling you to get rid of them,” Yves said. She put the sword back beside Chaewon. “Just tell me why we’re not.” 

The hand on the blade paused. Yves watched as Chaewon’s gaze shifted to the space in front of her. She was looking at the bond. Something broken. 

Chaewon let out a dry laugh. “All I can think of is why we should.” 

Yves didn’t say anything. She’d pushed her. Now she had to let her speak. 

“She’s never coming back,” she said slowly. “And she has magic now.” She continued to polish the sword. “So she’ll never need them again.” She took a deep breath. “They’re useless.”

Another round of silence came. Chaewon only broke it to switch swords. She’d been out here for at least an hour. Had she been lost in thought this entire time? And what had taken up her mind? The bond? Hyejoo being closer than she had in years? Or the fact that Yves and Jiwoo had decided to stop looking for her? 

“But I need them.” Chaewon chuckled. “How pathetic is that?”

“I’ve seen worse.” 

“Pining witches and hopeless vampires don’t count.” She gave her a look, one with a slight raised eyebrow. It was one Yves had seen only occasionally. Once there’d been constant judgement. Yves missed that constant exchange of snide comments and bursts of laughter. 

Yves got up and sat beside her. She lightly knocked their shoulders together. 

The corner of Chaewon’s lip curled up. “You know, you could just give these to Viian. I bet she could melt them down and we’d be done with it.”

“You wouldn’t want that.” Yves frowned at her. “I thought you were gonna stab me when I asked you about them.”

She snorted. “It’s because you’re right. I shouldn’t have kept them.” Her gaze softened the moment she looked back down at the sword. “They’re just a reminder.”

“None of us need a reminder to remember,” Yves replied. The thought of Hyejoo came to her every day. The shame of what Yves had done, and hadn't done, had never faded. 

Chaewon's smile weakened. She knew that better than anyone. Not just with Hyejoo. Yves hated that loss was so familiar to the younger girl. 

“So it’s not a reason for you to sell or melt them down,” Yves finished. 

Chaewon just nodded. She kept wiping at the blade. 

Yves didn’t have to ask why Chaewon cleaned the blades. She hadn’t even needed to ask why she kept them, but she’d needed to hear why they were so precious to her. 

“Did you want to keep looking for her?” 

Chaewon shook her head. “I never wanted to.” She bit her lip. “I know what she’d do. What she’d want to do.” Her eyes had become glassy again. “And I know I’d let her.” 

Yves knew she had it in her to do the same. If Hyejoo really wanted to hurt them, or worse, Yves saw no reason why she shouldn’t. 

“Don’t say that,” Yves said, her tone harsher then she wanted it to be. “You don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to be hurt for it.” You’ve already been hurt, she thought.

Chaewon didn’t reply. Yves knew she didn’t believe her. 

“We’re not looking for her, because it could happen. I don’t think it should happen,” she told her. “You’ve paid for the mistake. Nothing else should happen, because of it.” 

“I’ve paid?” She looked up. “Jiwoo and you haven’t?”

“We’re not the ones with a pain in our chest,” Yves replied. And I didn’t lose the person I loved most in this world. 

Chaewon set the sword on her lap, the blade pointing away from Yves. “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you’re not hurting either.” She reached over and squeezed her hand. “If you’re saying I don’t deserve to get hurt, neither do you or Jiwoo.” Then she kept cleaning the blade. 

Yves watched her work. There was a weight in her stomach. It was her turn not to believe what she heard. 

She could’ve told Chaewon that what’d been said wasn’t true. She could’ve defended Hyejoo, no matter if it was true or not. It shouldn’t have mattered if Hyejoo was dangerous or not. They should’ve been there for her. Jiwoo wasn’t to blame. She’d gone along with what Yves had said. But it had been Yves who’d agreed with the elders. She’d been the one to turn away first. 

When they went back, the sun was rising. Yves was both tired and alert. She wanted to move. Jiwoo wasn’t back yet. She wanted to wait for her. But this might’ve been a patrol that took a few days. That almost made it worse. 

Yves listened as Chaewon tucked the swords between the furs, hidden from view, but well within her reach. 

She hadn’t asked why Chaewon still cleaned them. She hadn't even asked her why she was cleaning them weeks before she usually did it.

Tending to those swords was one of the things that she could actually do. Even though Hyejoo would never lay a finger on those swords, they were still hers. Chaewon cleaned the blades, because they were the last piece of Hyejoo that she had, everything else being lost or broken. 

______

Olivia knelt in front of a small bush. She wracked her mind for whether or not this was the right root. She decided that it had to be. She vaguely remembered a lesson Yerim had given her over a century and a half ago. She’d taught her the elixirs to make. All to make sure Olivia felt somewhat useful. 

She smiled at the memory. 

It was soon soured when she remembered the person who’d been with her then. The person who’d gone with her, enduring hours of scouring through bushes and roots and weeds, just so that Olivia could mix the elixir she needed. 

That person had done a lot, but not when it’d most mattered. She’d turned away then. She’d wanted Olivia to go. 

Olivia shoved that person from her mind. She ripped out the plant and others like it, before getting to her feet. She shoved it in her bag and started walking to the town. 

It wasn’t hard to find the place of the witch. Not only was there a fair amount of darkness around  her, because of her magic and near eternal youth, but there was also a small amount of light. Some Astra did go to witches, specifically ones like Jungeun or Hyunjin who were more comfortable with non-elves. They could be useful for magic that wasn’t intrinsically theirs. For Olivia, she’d sought out multiple witches to teach her what magic they could. This one she’d seen once in the past few years. 

She didn’t knock before opening the door. 

There was a sharp cry. Something fell to the floor. 

Doyeon scowled at her. “Mind announcing that you’re coming?” She glowered at a now fallen crystal. It hadn’t broken. 

Olivia threw the sack of flora at her. “Mind telling me why you’re dealing with Astra again?” She also knew exactly who’d been here. A part of her wanted to destroy those traces of light. 

She caught it and raised a brow. “I told them the last place you were in. Not this one.” 

Olivia didn’t comment on that. “My money?”

“I swear,” Doyeon muttered. “You’re the only greedy elf I’ve met.” 

“Then you haven’t met enough.” She thought of Alluin’s group. Alluin himself was extremely greedy. And the Astra had their own greed, even if it wasn’t monetary. 

Doyeon muttered something under her breath as she got the money. She checked what was in her hand before setting it on the table. 

“What do you need it for anyway?” She frowned at her. “You can get whatever you want without it.”

Olivia decided against telling her that she didn’t want to steal. “They always notice it in the end,” she said. “I want to stay here a while until then.” 

Doyeon’s brow rose. “You’ll be gathering a lot of herbs until then.” 

“Have anything else that’ll pay more?” 

She hadn’t expected an answer, but the witch straightened. 

“What’re you willing to do?” 

“I don’t plan on being your assassin.” 

Doyeon rolled her eyes. “Going straight to the magic word,” she shook her head, “you’d be more of a glorified monster hunter.” 

Monster was a relative term. Most considered it to apply to deformed beasts whose minds were only focused on destruction. The Astra called corrupted spirits monsters. They also deemed Olivia a monster. 

Alluin had depicted the humans being murdered as monsters. 

Olivia had seen enough of both elves and fairies to call a few monsters. 

But she knew what sort of monsters Doyeon referred to. “Vampire or werewolf?” 

“Vampires.” She examined one of her many rings. Just one of those would get Olivia a few weeks worth of food. Even more if there was a decent enchantment on it. “They’re either really callous, or just newborns. Massacred a travelling merchant party three days ago, then a noble and his guards yesterday. The outskirts of a town is next, just a farm if we’re lucky.”

“How do you know that?” Olivia frowned at her. Normally, the seers would be looking into this. Or those on patrol would hear the story of a mysterious attack. As far as she knew, witches never looked out for rumours like that. If anything, they’d be at taverns to get a better reputation, a bedfellow, client, or all three. The list went on. 

Doyeon raised a brow. “Scrying doesn’t just help me find people. I can also follow blood trails.”

In the back of her mind, Olivia wondered if she could do the same to follow Alluin and the rest. Then she’d know if they were coming. 

But she wouldn’t drag the witch into that. Not yet at least. 

“Why’re you following those? Need a new experiment?”

The darkness around the witch strengthened. Outrage, but not the desire to murder. Or cause some other type of suffering. 

“I’d like to stop the murders,” Doyeon snapped. “It’s not just your fellow elves and fairies who try to protect the humans.” 

Olivia bit back her response. She hadn’t expected this witch to care. Was she as judgemental as the witches and vampires were to the fae and elven people? She supposed she was. 

“So my guess was that you can tell if they’re a real murderer or not,” Doyeon said, the edge to her tone now gone. “You know, like how the Astra trust me in the first place and all.” 

And why I trust you, Olivia thought. While Doyeon was very often arrogant and dealt with too many people at once for Olivia to ever feel comfortable around her, she was far from evil. “I’ll find them. Just give me a direction.” 

“They’ll be in Huyeo next.” She went to her cauldron. “Just a snack this time.” She said it dismissively. 

Only this time, Olivia caught a small surge in the darkness. She didn’t know if she was actually reading her emotions, only that she could vaguely tell which was which.  She knew someone was being driven by rage. She knew if they wanted, or had, to give in to the desire to something terrible. And she knew if they were scared. 

Doyeon was scared. She wasn’t asking Olivia to go after someone purely to have them dead. She was asking her to do it to stop others from dying. 

That was different than revenge. It had to be. 

“The next time I see your ex-family, I can send them after them.” Doyeon shrugged. No matter who did it, she’d stop the rampage. 

“How many?” Only three had been here. And only three would be sent after them. 

“Four,” she said. “One’s got to be the creator, but you’ll find that out then.” 

“Your scrying doesn’t tell you everything?” 

Doyeon frowned at her. “I think my magic does a lot more than yours does.”

“You’re good at many things,” Olivia replied. “But what I do, I’ve devoted more than your lifetime in honing that.” She didn’t mention that she’d only controlled the darkness for a fraction of her life. 

“Right,” she scoffed, “how foolish of me to forget you’re all immortal.” She muttered something and the cauldron began to fill with water. “It’s not like every single elf I see has to tell me I’m a child to them.”

Olivia didn’t need her magic to see the frustration there. She was quite sure that most witches had that. It was a shaky thing to deal with witches. Most weren’t immortal and most just wanted to live their lives as completely as they could. That usually included doing almost anything that their magic allowed them. Some went to necromancy, others to manipulation of the living. And the reality was that if the elves lived the same amount of time as they did, their magic wouldn’t let them achieve as much. 

But they were immortal. A lot of fairies had used that fully to their advantage, learning about their magic for years on end. The elves just strengthened their capabilities without questioning much. It didn’t matter if they had a limited range in magic. Time made them stronger. 

“But we’ll still need your help,” Olivia said. “You’ve integrated in ways I can’t.” She didn’t know how to go that route anyway. A part of her didn’t want to witness how fleeting mortal lives could be. More than once, Yerim had once broken down crying, because she’d lost a friend she’d made among the humans. “And you can do more than I can.” 

Doyeon looked taken aback. 

“I’ll go,” Olivia turned to the door, “do you need confirmation?” Proof that they were dead. Usually, that just meant collecting their ashes in a small vial. 

“I’ll know.” A pause. “If they’re newborns, try not to kill them.” Something sad came over her expression. “Bring them here if they survive.” 

As in, if they didn’t try to kill her. Or if Olivia could restrain them long enough to bring them back. 

“I’ll try.”

The corner of her lip tugged up. “Thank you.” 

Olivia didn’t respond. She just left. The shadows weren’t reaching for her, but she felt cold. 

Vampires might’ve been considered monsters, but they were immortal, just as elves were. They’d once been human too. It was a fusion of the two worlds. They knew the humans better than any elf or fairy could. And they were stronger and faster than most too. That was one of the main reasons why witches didn’t go against them directly. Not usually, at least. 

Olivia had fought werewolves before. She’d killed elves and fairies. She’d also killed a fair amount of vampires too. 

So why did this feel different? Because it wasn’t out of self-defence? Because she didn’t know if the vampire was being driven by hunger or some darker part of their soul? 

Or because she’d looked into the eyes of someone who’d begged her to let him live? Someone who she’d let live, only for him to be slaughtered along with several others? 

_______

Author's Note

Finally, Viseul are talking again. Whenever I write from Haseul's perspective, I start to miss her even more. Yeojin and Choerry's interactions are fun to follow, especially as there's some more honesty coming in. As for Gowon and Olivia, their pieces are both challenging to write, but really compelling for me at the same time. Gowon's pain is difficult, because I end up feeling that same sense of longing for something you know you won't be getting back. For that reason, I always want to show you more about her situation, because although she knows she was wrong, she's still paying for that mistake. As for Olivia, she can't quite get away from the path she'd been on before. She still has to do different jobs for money. And this next one is very similar to what she's already done (and hadn't wanted to do). Do you think it'll have a different result to before?

I'm really hoping that the combination of different perspective is working for you. It's how I've been able to write this story the best. There are certain characters whose arcs just meld together really well, like Gowon and Olivia's perspectives. To me, they fit, but that's also the way I've been processing the story as a writer. 

But it's not just me who's following the stories. The timing of certain events may feel a bit off, but if you think it would read easier if restructured, feel free to say so. 

Once again, I'd really love to know your thoughts, both on the structure of this story, but also about the content. 

See you next chapter.