Note: later in this chapter, there is violence. If brutality of that sort does make you uncomfortable, then feel free to go to the end of the chapter. 

______

“Patrol’s simple,” Haseul said. “Most of the time.” She handed her a waterskin. They were finally finished with training. If Vivi had kept score, she was quite sure they’d have been even. Haseul was skilful, but she didn’t always expect the manoeuvres Vivi made. It was the same the other way round. 

And it made the sparring sessions even better. It didn’t take much to see that Haseul had been involved in real fights, ones with actual stakes, instead of simple duels and spirit encounters. They were on the same page there. 

Vivi accepted the waterskin. She drank. The moonlit water was really growing on her. It was both invigorating and refreshing. A strange combination, but it worked. She supposed that was how it was supposed to be, considering their lunar magic. 

That was another benefit to add to her list. She’d begun keeping one to better appreciate the place she was supposed to call home. It was a short list, but a list nonetheless. She could only hope that once Dahyun came, she'd tell her a bit more about why she trusted the Astra so much. Few knew why that emotional fairy visited the lunar elves more than most and fewer had actually asked. Vivi would make sure to ask. 

She looked to the person beside her, someone who’d said she’d teach her about the moon and added training to that. She’s also been nothing but kind, going as far as helping her with crosesh when there was a word Vivi’d forgotten. She was also starting to teach her a few sigils. 

“It just gets hard when you’re actually sent after something,” Haseul sighed, “like vampires or wolves. Not even ones we should be chasing, but we’re the better trackers for that.” 

“How?” As far as Vivi knew, elves and fairies weren’t as fast as vampires. They also didn’t have as heightened senses as they did either. Most of them couldn’t twist someone else’s mind either. Vampires even had the ability to compel werewolves in their crazed state. Emotional fae were hurt by the sheer amount of rage in a wolf, while mental fae couldn’t sift through the chaos of their minds. 

“Like everything we have,” Haseul waved a hand, “we can follow the light. Or lack of it.” 

Vivi frowned. That didn’t seem to apply to all kinds of darkness. “Then why haven’t the scouting parties found that girl?” 

Green eyes flicked to hers, a brief flash of suspicion there, before it eased into something else. “You mean Hyejoo.” 

“I didn’t know we could say her name.” Vivi still didn’t quite understand the multiple name piece. Her own was simple. She had a name she’d used among the humans, because Viian didn’t quite flow off the tongue in some languages. 

“Depends who you ask.” Haseul smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s politically correct to call her Olivia, but Hyejoo’s her real name.” 

New questions came to her. What exactly had happened? What reasoning could possibly justify banishing a girl who’d never possessed a particular magic? And where had the rest of them been? Was there any chance she’d be able to come back? Especially if she had the potential to help?

Vivi decided against asking them. It was a sore spot for many, but it seemed to be an especially sensitive topic for Haseul. The mention of Hyejoo exposed a crack in the usual strength that surrounded the girl. Vivi didn’t think it was weakness, but anger. Unlike Heejin, who let her anger show itself, Haseul was suppressing it. Either that, or the situation was a deep scar that hadn’t healed yet. And mentioning Hyejoo just brought that pain back. 

“We haven’t found her, because that type of darkness is different.” Haseul’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like the fae magic used to disappear. I think.” 

Vivi smiled. “That’s a lot of uncertainty.” But she’d noticed it. As she’d gotten further away from Hyejoo, it’d gotten harder to pinpoint where she was. If she went looking for her, she’d have to rely on her stone magic. 

The rest didn’t have that. 

Haseul shrugged. “Anyone who gets that magic doesn’t get to stay. We can’t exactly learn from them.” There was bite to that statement. It lessened when she continued. “But to get back to it, we can sense the darkness that surrounds a vampire. You can sense spirits, whether they’re light or dark, and we can follow that same aura in the bloodsucker.”

Vivi glanced at the girl’s neck. The bite marks hadn’t faded yet. Other injuries she’d seen elves bear had healed faster than that. 

She looked at Haseul’s eyes to see that there wasn’t much spite there. All she saw was tiredness. Still, the animosity towards vampires was there. Vivi felt the same, most of the time, but even then, a lot of vampires were simply humans made immortal. Some took that immortality and enhanced strength to their heads, others lived through it with as much grace as a fairy did. 

Haseul caught her looking. “What’s on your mind?” 

“Vampires,” Vivi admitted. “They’re not all bad.”

“I know.” Haseul’s hand drifted upward before falling back down to her lap. “But most of the ones we see are,” she trailed off, “not great at all.” 

“And most of the ones I know aren’t too bad.” 

Haseul nodded. “I’d actually want to meet them, if they ever pass through, or you go visit them.” She sighed. “A lot of the time, I end up forgetting they were once human. I think those ones do too.” 

Vivi knew she should’ve replied to that, but she was halfway surprised by Haseul’s words. Not only was she admitting to dehumanising the vampires, but she wanted to broaden her perspective. And it seemed like she thought it was a normal thing. From what Vivi had seen of other elves, as well as fairies, they ended up dismissing the immortal humans. They either became enemies or nuisances. 

She was broken from her thoughts when Haseul turned to face her fully. There was a weird look in her eyes. It looked like she was sure of something, but didn’t like what she’d decided to do. 

“What do you wanna know?” 

“About?” 

“Anything,” she said. “Jungeun and the others, Yves and the other two, Hyejoo, the elders.” The corner of her lip twitched to the side. “You left because you found out something that happened a few decades ago. Maybe the next thing you find out was a century ago, or three.” 

Vivi liked that reasoning. It just made too much sense. Maybe she’d see another side to Haseul. The one that made her suited to be an elder. The one that was more politically inclined, more manipulative. 

“And what’ll you want me to tell you about my life?” 

The change in Haseul’s expression wasn’t smoothed over. It was just a genuine grimace. She was guilty about something. “Some of us can look into the past, a bit like how seers look into the future.” 

“Can you?” The prospect should’ve bothered Vivi, but it didn’t. It was probably because she’d grown up with people who could search her mind for whatever memories they wanted. It didn’t mean she welcomed it, but she’d had to get used to it. It was their fault if they didn’t like what they found. 

She shook her head. “Not that skilled,” she chuckled, “but I know people who have. And they looked.” 

Vivi wasn’t surprised. “If I had that ability, I’d have done the same.” 

Haseul raised a brow at her. “Really?” 

“Come on,” Vivi nudged her arm, “you can’t tell me you didn’t listen when they discussed my past.”

The smile she gave her was shy. “Alright, nosiness is also something we have.”

“For us, nosiness isn’t a bad thing,” she replied. “If you’re not curious about a person at all, you’re an idiot.” 

Haseul eyed her. “Right,” she leaned back on her elbows, “I know you’ve been in a fair amount of battles yourself, and that you’ve been among the humans quite a lot.” 

“And?”

“That’s most of what I heard,” she said, eyes turning back to the sky. 

“Most?” Vivi repeated. 

The shy smile returned. Vivi found she liked it on her. 

“Is it bad to say that some concerned themselves for the other people you’d, well, associated yourself with?” 

The way she said it was tentative. She raised an eyebrow as she looked from the sky and back to Vivi. 

“You mean my partners?” Vivi felt herself smile. 

Haseul returned it. “Were those the good vampires you meant?” 

“Yes,” she admitted. “But I knew better.” 

The green eyes looked away from her, but they were sparkling. 

Vivi’s smile grew. “Got any questions about that?”

Haseul didn’t reply. 

“I’ve some of my own.” Vivi rested on her back beside her. She gazed up at the stars. Some of the fairies had read them. Some humans did as well. She’d never bothered to know much about the star signs or anything else of that part of reality. 

Haseul looked down at her. The moon had made it so that the light was perfectly angled towards her. It caressed the side of her face, along her jaw and down her neck. It was a sight that was impossible for others, even if they were in front of a blazing fire. But the Astra called on moonlight like others drew breath. Even then, Vivi wasn’t sure if all of them looked like Haseul did beneath the moon. 

“What were those?” Haseul asked, her voice quiet. “My past or my partners?”

She was being surprisingly forward. Vivi wanted to be as well. She trusted Haseul enough that this wasn’t some elaborate ploy. The first few days of being with the Astra would’ve achieved that. The reveal of Hyejoo’s banishment might’ve shown that, had Haseul shown herself to be genuine. Hyejoo’s words had proved just that. 

“We can start with the past,” Vivi said. “And I’ll ask about the rest later.”

Her smile widened, while her eyes became crescents. Vivi wondered if the born-Astra actually embodied the moon instead of just being tied to it. She could easily imagine that Haseul was one of them. 

Then Haseul nodded. “I can tell you I’ve been involved with most of the battles that happened in my lifetime.” 

“Including the emotional fae?”

She started. “How did you,” then she shook her head, “sorry, should’ve known you knew this.” 

“It’s alright,” Vivi told her. It was a slip-up, considering the first encounter she’d had with the consequences had been Hyejoo and then Heejin. She’d known about it before, but only in passing. Like how she knew of the widespread disease in the west, but not how many humans had suffered because of it. 

Haseul just nodded. “Including that. I was young, relative to the rest at a fighting age. Same with Yves.” She didn’t say the name with disdain, even though Yves seemed to have been branded the villain by Heejin and Yeojin. “But we needed everyone we could get and they attacked suddenly. Even the seers hadn’t realised when exactly they’d get to us.” Her eyes darkened then. The relaxed slope to her shoulders had drooped into a tired sadness. It was an old sort of mourning. 

Vivi knew that look. Haseul had also lost someone close to her during that attack. She decided not to ask. Even if Haseul was allowing herself not to put up a complete front, that didn’t mean Vivi had got pry at what was left of it. 

Still, she sat up so that they were level. Haseul met her eyes once with a short nod. Then she looked to the forest, but not the moon. 

“We all lost,” she said. “But the person I think lost the most on that day was Chaewon.” A long pause. “It’s a sensitive topic all around, but I’d say never even mention it with her.” Guilt appeared in her eyes. 

Vivi nodded. It wasn’t hard to see that something bore down on Gowon’s mind and body. She looked tired most of the night and if no one was around her, there was a strangely haunted look in her eyes. It wasn’t one that had seen brutality, though Vivi didn’t doubt that she’d seen that too, but one that was stuck in the past. 

And she was one of the people Heejin seemed to hate the most. She was one of the people who’d turned away from Hyejoo. And yet she seemed to grieve that loss more than anyone else. 

“Why do they let you fight, even if you’re going to eventually be an elder?” Vivi thought of Heejin and how she’d struggled to even be allowed on patrol. 

Haseul laughed. “It was difficult at first,” she said. “After a while, it was fine.”

“You mean you forced them to accept it.”

Her eyes turned that brighter form of emerald green. “Well,” she trailed off, “maybe.” 

Vivi thought of a younger Haseul giving the elders a smile, a challenge in her eyes, urging them to stop her. 

If she needed any more reason to like the elf, she had it right there. 

She looked closer. She really was beautiful. Most of the women here, as well as those Vivi had known before, had long hair that fell well below their shoulders. The short hair made for a delicate frame around Haseul’s face. And then the way her eyes crinkled as she smiled—Vivi might’ve liked that most of all. 

“Got another question?” Haseul raised her brow. She was smiling, but it was still a gentle form of it. 

Vivi wondered if she should wrack her brain for an excuse. She decided against it. 

She shook her head. “Just thought of something.” 

“Care to tell?” She tilted her head to the side. 

“Later,” Vivi replied. “Promise.”

And she imagined she would. 

______

Jungeun had a dark look in her eyes. Jinsoul had seen it many times. She always wished she could take it away. 

She didn’t say anything. Instead, she went over to her.

Jungeun didn’t look up. She was focused on a spot on the floor. In her hands, a flame travelled up her fingers. 

Jinsoul put a hand to her cheek. Her skin was still so cold to the touch. Whenever she was in a state of mind like this, her skin would always be hot. 

She remembered a different day, one where she’d seen this same look in Jungeun’s eyes, but several times worse. She’d lost her mother and gone after the ones responsible. Jinsoul hadn’t seen the effects of her rage, but she had seen the emptiness and pain afterwards. The area around her had been reduced to ashes, including her clothes. Jungeun herself had been covered in ash and trembling, her tears having cleared thick trails down her face. 

Jinsoul had taken Jungeun to the water and the both of them had let the current wash them down. It’d cleared the ash away and brought Jungeun’s thoughts away from her revenge, away from her grief. It’d been a brief moment, but an escape nonetheless. 

Another day, Jungeun hadn’t burned down anything. She’d just sat in a clearing by herself, lost in thoughts that’d grown increasingly worse. She hadn’t wanted to speak to Jinsoul, but she also hadn’t turned her away. 

A week later, Jungeun had told her what had happened. She’d been sent after a mental fairy. They’d dug up every single suppressed memory of Jungeun’s and pushed it to the forefront. 

Jinsoul still didn’t know what half of those memories were. 

So now, she just brushed her thumb over Jungeun’s skin. 

Jungeun leaned into the touch. She didn’t want to be alone today. 

Jinsoul sat down and pulled Jungeun closer to her. Immediately, the other girl leaned her head on Jinsoul’s shoulder. 

“Hey,” Jungeun murmured. 

Jinsoul smiled. “Hi.” She brushed a hand through her hair. She gave Jungeun some light. She wished she could help her warm up better. 

Jungeun let out a long breath through her nose. The flame in her hands disappeared. 

She wanted to ask what happened, what was going through Jungeun’s thoughts, and what she could do to help. 

She didn’t. All Jinsoul could do for her now was sit here. 

The look of defeat in Jungeun’s eyes clawed at Jinsoul. While Jungeun had come far from the person she’d once been, she hadn’t lost this part of her. A part filled with cuts and gashes from the past. 

Those cuts had healed, but Jungeun had sealed them with fire. In turn, the scars she’d left were jagged and far from faded. 

“You know how I got this?” Jungeun lifted a hand to her chest. Her brow twitched as she did. Did it hurt when pressure was applied? That would change how they needed to handle this. 

Jinsoul pushed those thoughts away. It wasn’t about healing the darkness. It was about listening. So she said nothing, but squeezed Jungeun’s arm. 

“When that fairy tried to kill us,” she faltered. “She stabbed him. Missed his heart, so he was taking a while to go.” Her brow furrowed and she shook her head. “Sorry.” 

Jinsoul didn’t need to ask what she was sorry for. Jungeun could talk about violence and her past as if it was completely detached from her. She never spoke about it like it was: trauma. 

“So I took out what she used for it. It was cold, colder than most spirits are,” she sighed, “it sped up the process, but she doesn’t know it was me who killed him.” 

Jinsoul didn’t respond. She took one of Jungeun’s now warm hands in her own. That warmth was only from the fire. It’d fade soon. 

Most of them had killed. In a long life where other groups and species were either allies or enemies, it was almost inevitable. 

 Jinsoul had always been the healer. Her experience with fighting was small. She was more than happy that it was. 

But if you had the magic and ability for it, then you fought more. Jungeun’s magic was fire, something always thought to be destructive, and she’d always been ready to use it and a blade. So she’d been the designated warrior for her old clan and the Astra.

It’d be a lie to say that fighting for one’s people didn’t take its toll. For many, it was still an honour. It was one for Jungeun, but she bore the burden more than she thought she did. 

If one paid attention, they saw that burden. And Jinsoul had only ever seen Jungeun with that burden. She didn’t know the person she’d been before then. Her father didn’t talk much about that. He was just as entrenched in battle as she was. 

“If we see her again,” Jungeun sighed, “She might need to talk.” She took a shaky breath. “She didn’t want to kill someone who deserved it, but she did here.” 

“She’ll still think back on it,” Jinsoul finished. 

“She isn’t a killer.”

Jinsoul fought a frown. She pushed down words she’d said to her time and time again. 

You’re not a killer. 

This was about Hyejoo, not Jungeun. 

“No, she isn’t,” Jinsoul tilted Jungeun’s head to look at her, “and when we see her again, we’ll make sure she knows that.” 

Red eyes closed. “That fairy was sent here to finish the kill,” she said. “And we sent him back. Dead.” Her eyes opened. “What happens if they want their revenge?” 

“We could go to her,” Jinsoul said. 

Jungeun grimaced. “And if they come here?” Worry filled her features. “He was going for Yerim and me.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “She was the one who stopped him. I don’t think we would’ve stood much of a chance.” 

Meaning, Yerim had seen in that moment what would’ve happened. 

So there were two options: Alluin would come after Hyejoo or he’d come for them. Was he even strong enough for that? It’d been centuries since his own banishment. Had someone trained him? And who had he found? Were they all like Hyejoo? Or had they sought him out, because he let you steal and murder for money? 

It struck her then that Jungeun, Yerim, and other non-Astra could’ve become a part of that group. Jinsoul included. Had Jungeun not braved the storm of the Astra’s suspicion, she could’ve easily left. Would Alluin have tried to recruit her then? 

And if he had, he would’ve had one of the best warriors of the elves. If he had someone like that on his side, then attacking the Astra head-on was an option. 

Jinsoul pulled Jungeun closer to her side. She drew in more light, trying to make her body warmer. 

“Whatever happens, we’ll do what we can,” she whispered. Maybe they’d even get other elves involved. 

“And if they want a fight?” Jungeun looked up at her, eyes wide with concern. It was surprisingly vulnerable. She understood that look too. I don’t want to fight. Not this time. 

Jinsoul felt her heart clench at the sight. She knew that if it came to it, Jungeun would still go out and protect them with all she had. As much as they criticised the Astra, as much as the Astra criticised her, the lunar elves were family. Jungeun honoured that just as much as Jinsoul, Choerry, and any other non-Astra did. 

“Unless our peacemakers succeed, we’ll do what we have to.”

“We?” Jungeun stiffened. 

“If you think I’m letting you go out there alone, think again.” 

“We need you here.” 

Jinsoul nudged her side. “I’m not the only healer here.”

“You’re the best one we have,” Jungeun muttered. She spoke arcesh. 

The words made something in Jinsoul’s chest lighter. Jungeun had spent the early years trying to learn the language of Jinsoul’s people. Until then, she’d used her broken arcesh to make Jinsoul laugh at the accent and grammatical mistakes. 

And then she could say things like that, in a gentle voice that let all potential tension between them dissipate. 

It was always hard to argue with Jungeun. Jinsoul knew well enough that Jungeun’s occasional hot-headedness had led to her being in several disagreements, so she was able to argue and stay in those conflicts. Except that never seemed to apply to Yerim, Jinsoul, or the other people Jungeun took responsibility for. She knew what to say then. She knew when to be patient and when to put on pressure. 

“You can let that go to your head.” Jungeun tucked her head into the crook of Jinsoul’s neck. 

Jinsoul had to laugh. She pressed her cheek to the top of her head. Something had eased in her. She wasn’t sure if it was Jungeun’s presence or because she could freely say she was free of her healing duties today. 

“I’m serious,” Jungeun said. “It’s well deserved.”

Jinsoul didn’t reply. Jungeun never failed to praise her when she could. A part of her loved it. The other just wanted Jungeun to accept the same amount of compliments, to see herself in the same light she saw Jinsoul, Yerim, and Haseul. 

“How’s Yerim? I went to her earlier, but she was asleep. Then Yeojin forced me back here.” Jungeun laughed softly. “I won’t tell her this, but Haseul’s rubbing off on her.”

Like you’re rubbing off on Yerim, she thought. She was still torn between being proud and worried. She couldn’t think of a better person for Yerim to look up to. The only drawback was that said person was reckless in her heroism. 

“Tired?” 

Jinsoul realised then that she hadn’t said a word. 

“A bit,” she admitted. 

Jungeun hummed once. “Stuck in your head?” She didn’t look up at her. That meant she wasn’t planning on pressing her. 

Jinsoul tugged her a bit closer. “A little.”

“Yerim’ll be getting help soon,” she said. “And it hasn’t been spreading. Hyunjin’s also doing better than I thought she’d be.” Pause. “So if that’s on your mind, everything’ll be okay there.”

“And how’re you?”

Jungeun didn’t respond. She hadn’t expected Jinsoul to ask after that. She usually didn’t. 

All that she knew about Jungeun’s current state was that she was unable to get warm. She didn’t know how it actually felt. If this was Hyejoo’s darkness, then it probably felt very different to the darkness of spirits. Jinsoul had had darkness in her heart once before. It felt like a lead weight had settled there and it let negative thoughts spiral more easily than anything positive could. 

Jungeun was still full of reassurance and could still make light of things, but Jinsoul couldn’t help but think of the look from earlier. Maybe her darker thoughts were coming to the forefront much more than they should have been. 

And she wasn’t planning on telling Jinsoul about any of that. 

That didn’t sting. It was just another reminder of how much Jungeun still kept to herself. 

Jungeun was quiet. The flame was back in her hands. It twirled around her fingers. Jungeun still believed that her fire magic was only ever good for destruction. Even when she could wield a flame as delicately as this, she thought it was only ever good for battle. 

Jinsoul took the hand that wasn’t controlling fire. Her skin was cool again. 

“It’s like always,” Jungeun said. “Not great, but I’m used to it by now.”

“You’re not supposed to be used to that.” 

“But I am,” she retorted, a harshness to her voice. It softened immediately. The darkness was affecting her. Either someone became irritable or heavy with sadness, sometimes even a grief that wasn’t their own. “It’s just something we’ll have to wait out.” 

We. Jungeun was including Jinsoul in that. She’d have to accept that Jinsoul wouldn’t just be waiting it out. 

Jinsoul lifted her hand and pressed it to the centre of Jungeun’s chest. It was exceptionally cold. 

She stiffened, but didn’t push her away. 

Jinsoul focused the light she had into her hand. She let it go straight to Jungeun’s heart. 

They stayed like that for a while. Jungeun didn’t say anything, nor did she move. Jinsoul only felt the slow motion of her chest as she breathed. She felt her steady heart rate. 

Something stirred in Jinsoul’s own chest. For a moment, she wondered if the darkness over Jungeun’s heart had loosened. She didn’t take her hand away. If she was going to get a portion of it, she would. 

And then Jungeun closed a hand over Jinsoul’s. “I think that’s enough.” 

“Did it help?” Jinsoul asked. She didn’t stop giving her light. She started feeling cold, but that didn’t matter. She’d ease that with a simple drink of water. Jungeun didn’t have that luxury. 

Now Jungeun raised her head. Their foreheads were just a small distance away from touching. Jinsoul nearly pressed them together. It was the equivalent of a hug for some fairies. She didn’t do that now. Sometimes Jungeun let herself be open to lasting touches, others she pulled back. Jinsoul still didn’t understand why, but she’d never worked up the courage to ask. 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Jungeun whispered. “So you can stop.” She gently pulled Jinsoul’s hand away, but she didn’t let go. 

So the darkness had been hurting her. Elre had been in agony in the days leading up to her death. Jinsoul still remembered trying to numb that pain with a mixture of her light and other mixtures for the pain. Nothing had worked. 

Jinsoul pushed the memory of Elre’s lifeless body from her head. “Don’t be stubborn.” 

“I could say the same to you.” 

Jinsoul frowned at her. 

Jungeun smiled. “I feel better now.” 

There still wasn’t a glow in her eyes and her skin was still cold. 

But she was smiling. 

Jungeun squeezed her hand. “And I’ll be okay.” 

Jinsoul wanted to say that they didn’t know that yet, but the warmth in Jungeun’s eyes kept the words from coming. She could go back and forth with Jungeun for hours on something. It was never productive, but neither of them cared. Either it was the amount that Jinsoul worked or the amount of time Jungeun spent on patrol. Jinsoul usually avoided bringing up Jungeun’s recklessness, while Jungeun didn’t press her on what she gave up when healing. 

Both of them rarely gave up, because they usually believed in what they were saying wholeheartedly. Someone from the outside probably wouldn’t know who to side with. And sometimes neither of them would let the other win, not when it was about something related to the other’s wellbeing or safety. 

“Should we go sleep?” Jungeun asked. Her head was on Jinsoul’s shoulder again. Her voice sounded lighter. 

“Not yet?” Jinsoul closed her eyes. “I love it here.” With you, she added silently. To say that aloud would ruin the comfortable air between them. And of course, Jungeun wasn’t ready for that. Even if Jinsoul was. 

“Me too,” Jungeun murmured. “It’s quiet. You’re warm.” She sighed, a relieved sound. “Perfect.” 

Her stomach flipped at that. Jinsoul wondered if immortality let them be immeasurably wise or just stay permanent disasters. Some people counted as both. 

And then there was Jungeun. 

Jinsoul fought a sigh and cleared her mind of that. She decided then and there that she’d just enjoy the rest of the night. Even if it was spent in silence, even if the person next to her was cold, things were, as Jungeun had said, perfect. 

Well, it was missing one thing, but she didn’t think about that. 

______

The darkness had wrapped the vampires in a shroud. 

Except that didn’t say much. Vampires were a product of something darker. They needed blood to survive. Not the blood of animals, but that of people. That included elves just as much as it did humans. Many vampires even preferred elves and fairies. Some hunted them. 

Olivia let the shadows come to her now. Their embrace was as reassuring as it was cold. She felt how a portion curled around her hand. It wanted to solidify. It wanted to become a weapon. One she could drive into their hearts. 

She didn’t let it. She needed to see what they were. And to do that, she’d see what they were going to do next. 

Some vampires could lose control, even if they were ten years old. Be it the way the moon was positioned, a curse from a witch, or an overwhelming sense of hunger, a vampire could be blinded by their bloodlust. 

It was the responsibility of other vampires, fairies, elves, and, as she’d learned, witches to bring them under control. Sometimes that involved trapping them and clearing their head of that bloodlust. Other times, it meant killing them. 

Most of the time, the elves barely distinguished it. Unless they clearly saw the madness, or recognised that the vampire was a newborn and couldn’t control themselves. Some Astra could know the age of a person just by knowing how many moons they’d seen. 

Looking into the future of a vampire could also help. Most seers couldn’t sift through the darkness that naturally surrounded blood-ers, but those who could were able to see if they’d bring more death. 

And then there were the few Astra who could delve deeper into a person’s past. They could catch glimpses of both their mortal life and immortal one. And sometimes that’d let them know if the vampire had wanted to kill, or if they’d just been overcome by the need to drink.

Yves had been able to do that. They’d restrain the vampire and let her search their past. Then she’d told Chuu what she’d seen. From there, they’d been able to decide if the vampire should live or not. Sometimes they’d been in agreement. Others, Chuu had urged her to let them live. 

Olivia closed her eyes. The thought of those two pulled at the darkness more than seeing the vampires did. And she couldn’t look into a vampire’s past, nor their future. She could only see what was there. And that told her enough. 

She reached for the vampires instead. Not so much that they’d notice a change, but enough so that she could actually sift through the darkness around them. She’d needed to do that with those like her, both when Alluin had trained her and not. She’d learned to distinguish between the darkness the naturally clung to a person, either due to their past, or their very existence. Anyone who controlled darkness was enveloped in it. That didn’t mean they were full of anger. You saw if they were once you looked past their magic. 

In the case of Alluin, there was rage and hatred. In Olivia, the same was there, but it was joined by  fear. He’d attacked that about her then. Others had too. 

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus. She needed to keep the vampires in her line of sight, but she couldn’t get any closer than she was. They’d hear her coming. And if she did something else wrong, they’d also smell her. If they were newborns, or hungry, that would just make them come to her. Even if they were neither, they’d probably also start hunting her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted that to happen yet. 

Within the darkness, she found what separated the four vampires. Two were surrounded by a lot of fear. One was surrounded by both anger and fear. The fourth had anger, but also murder. 

And two of them had more darkness than the other two. It wasn’t evil, but more neutral. Alluin had said that was tied to their immortality. 

So she was dealing with newborns and most likely their creators. That made it complicated. Two wouldn’t know better, while the other two were supposed to restrain their urges. 

It also meant that the newborns would fight erratically, while the elder ones were experienced. From what she saw, they also wouldn’t think twice of trying to kill her if she approached them. Olivia would probably be the first elf the newborns saw. Specifically, she’d be the first elf they’d want to taste. 

She nearly gagged at the thought. Vampire venom drained a person. And she still remembered the feeling of her blood flowing into someone else’s mouth. She remembered how they’d moaned at the taste of her. 

She also remembered ripping him away from , nearly tearing it out in the process. She’d cut his head off. 

Olivia let the darkness come to her. It eagerly sank into her skin, cooling her entirely. The shadows were neither full or fear, nor anger. They just were. When Olivia wielded them, she almost always felt calm. Sometimes she even felt safe. 

Now, she just focused on what would come now. She saw that the focus of the elder vampires was stretched out ahead of them. That same darkness had been going towards Yerim and Jungeun. She’d seen that be directed at her too. It always meant someone would die. 

Olivia gathered up some mud. She made sure her fingertips were properly coated and began to smear it along her arms. To a human, the circular markings would’ve looked random. To a fairy, they would’ve meant: hidden, safe. To Hyejoo, it meant that her scent and footsteps would be hidden away 

The spell didn’t last long, especially not when Hyejoo was in the shadows, but she needed both. The fae magic would keep her hidden for most of the way there. The shadows would keep her mind sharp and strengthen her body. The longer she spent there, the easier the darkness came when called. 

Once the scent of forests became overwhelming, she knew the spell had taken form. 

Olivia set off at a run, her feet making no sound as they pushed off the dirt and gnarled roots. 

The presence of the vampires left a sweet taste in . It was something that always came, despite the vampires themselves not having a scent like that. She wondered if that was a part of their magic, one meant to make you trust them, make you open your neck to them. 

It didn’t work. 

The moment the cloaking spell fell away, Olivia felt their attention snap to her. The darkness of death began to reach towards her. She saw that same darkness stretch away from her. It encircled the vampires. 

“What is that?” a high voice asked. It was a girl. Young by the sound of it, but that didn’t mean much. 

“An elf,” a velvety one replied. “You’ll like this.”

“They’re after us,” a low voice shot back. Nervousness made it tremble. “Shouldn’t we—”

“Only one,” another said. She had a sweet voice with a slight drawl to it. “That’s an opportunity. We’ll wait.” 

Even before her magic had come, Olivia had found a strange sort of pride in being underestimated. Other Astra had rarely expected her to outmatch them in strength, while the elves and fairies who’d attacked had known she was the one without magic. They’d overlooked her. And then she’d been able to strike. 

The first person she’d killed had been a fairy. Not the one who’d murdered her parents, but she’d treated him as if she had. She still had nightmares where that same fairy laughed at her. Other nights, she relived the moment she’d driven a blade into his stomach. 

Again, Olivia forced the past from her mind. In the present, she reached for the vampires’ shadows. Then she gave them a gentle push. 

She felt their alarm. Then she saw them. 

Two women. Two men. One of them had had an eager smile. It was now a snarl. 

She tightened her grip on their shadows, holding them where they stood. 

“Let us go,” the woman on the left said. She was the one with the sweet voice. 

Olivia felt her magic. It tugged at her, but didn’t bend her will. Unlike others, she didn’t need the spells or sigils to shield her mind. She didn’t know why, only that the darkness protected her. 

She took some relish in the shock that filled the vampire’s eyes. 

So she twisted their shadows. Each of their legs gave out beneath them. The younger vampires fell to their hands and knees. The other two forced themselves to remain upright. 

Olivia knew what she needed to do. Take the lives of two and leave the younger ones alive. They’d struggle to control their thirst, but they would know they needed to. 

But she remained where she was. She saw them crumble to dust before her. That was what always happened when a vampire died. 

And yet they were still before her, eyes either wide with fear, or narrowed with fury. 

Then one of them lunged. He was the oldest. The one so full of anger. 

She tried to push him back, letting the shadows jump towards him. 

He gasped, but he’d already come too far. 

Olivia’s back met the ground in the next moment. Her chest felt as if it’d caved in. She couldn’t even scream. 

But a scream still filled her ears. 

The vampire was no longer on top of her. He was staring at his hands. The fingertips were coated in darkness. Black tendrils were quickly travelling across his skin. 

Olivia knew her grip on the other three had lessened. They would know it soon enough. 

She forced her magic to enter her ribs, numbing them. Hopefully healing them as well, but she couldn’t rely on that. 

She forced herself to her feet and seized the vampire by his throat. 

He shrieked when her skin met his. He was almost warm to the touch. 

She made a ring of darkness around his neck. Then she forced him to the ground. He writhed across the ground, trying to rip it off. 

Olivia knew it wouldn’t loosen. No matter what strength he had. 

The other elder vampire took a step forward.  

Olivia didn’t hesitate when she made her shadow impale the vampire’s legs. She didn’t flinch when she heard her agonised cries. 

One of the newborns broke free then. He tried to run away, still slowed by his shadow. She made a wall of darkness appear in front of him. He slammed into it, but it didn’t shatter. Olivia’s grip on it still faltered. It disappeared, but the vampire was stunned. 

“Move and you die,” she told the second newborn. She had dark blue eyes. They were filled with terror. 

The girl didn’t say anything now. Olivia wondered if she’d even heard it, but the vampire didn’t move. Not even when she let go of her shadow. 

She dragged the other newborn over to her. Something in Olivia’s chest felt as if it was being tugged the wrong way. She ignored it. Her chest would heal soon. 

It only took one look for the newborn to shrink away from her. He wouldn’t be moving either. 

When she turned her attention to the elder vampires, one of them was whimpering, bent over her legs. The skin was completely overcome by shadows. 

Olivia took it all away. It left two legs ruined by blood. 

The vampire also didn’t move, but she did look at Olivia with tear-filled eyes. They were slowly filling with fear as well. 

“You’re her.” 

So even the vampires had heard of her. Was it the title of the wraith? Or the demon? 

She didn’t ask and went over to the last vampire. She hooked her fingers beneath the darkness around his neck and forced him to look at her. The blood vessels in his eyes were black instead of red. She took some of the darkness away. Whatever memories she’d trapped him in would fade. 

“We’re h-hunting,” the female vampire said, her velvety voice now rough. “Just hunting.” 

“I believe you,” Olivia replied. “But hunting is done with care. You don’t kill every deer you come across.” She stepped forward, sneering when the vampire leaned away. “And you hunt with the intent to feed. Not the desire to kill.” 

The male vampire spat at her. How he managed to recover so quickly from the darkness was almost admirable. “Don’t tell me you think their little lives are valuable.” 

Olivia didn’t respond. 

This was where this came from. It didn’t happen for all vampires, but there were a fair amount who forgot that they’d once been human. They forgot that human life could be just as fulfilling, sometimes more fulfilling, than their own. 

From there, humans became worthless. That was where the danger came. That was where mass killings became accepted. 

She finally let the darkness become a blade in her hands. 

She watched the vampire’s face as it scraped his shoulder. She watched the realisation settle in. His eyes grew wide. Then she pulled the blade back. 

And stabbed him in the heart. 

No one screamed in pain at losing him. They just flinched. 

The eldest of the three tried to crawl away, cries leaving her lips as she moved on ruined legs. 

Olivia walked over. She rested the blade on the side of her neck. 

The vampire froze. She looked up at Olivia. She was trembling. 

“Please,” she gasped, “let me live.” 

Olivia held her gaze. “Why?”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean why?” The fear in her got stronger. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” She pressed the sword into her neck. “You had your newborns murder those people. You’re trying to teach them it’s right.” She glanced at the other two then. They weren’t pleading for the vampire’s life. Had they felt a proper connection, wouldn’t they be? 

“You’ve been the life out of the humans just as we have,” the vampire snapped. “How are you any different?”

“I’m very different.” Olivia smiled at her. “And those stories aren’t true.”

A flicker of confusion came about. Then Olivia killed her. 

She knew the dust of both vampires still clung to her clothes. She decided against brushing it off. 

She turned to the other vampires next. They hadn’t run. 

Olivia felt a pang of guilt when both newborns flinched away from her. She pushed it down. 

“Remember this feeling,” she said softly. “This is what those people felt when you attacked them. They were powerless to your hunger, to your strength.” She looked to the boy. Surprisingly, he didn’t look away. “Just as easily as you did, I could end both your lives,” she nodded to the ashes, “but you’re still young enough to be better than that.” 

Neither said a word. Neither of them moved. 

“There are covens all across the country,” Olivia told them. “Vampires who’ll teach you to control your thirst instead of giving into it.” 

“Jae—he said that it didn’t matter,” the boy said. 

“It does,” Olivia replied. “You make your kills obvious, you kill more than you have to, and others will follow.” 

“Like you,” the girl muttered. She still looked afraid, but seemed to have understood that Olivia wasn’t going to kill them. 

It had been that same fear that’d kept the two from trying to fight her. That’d saved their lives. It also spoke for how they’d react in these situations. If anyone went into a craze because of fear, they made themselves a threat. Most people didn’t react well if faced with a threat. Olivia was one of them. 

“Like me.” Olivia nodded. She took the darkness that’d seeped into both, as well as some of the one that corresponded to fear. While it made her feel colder, she didn’t feel the fear itself. 

But she watched as they both relaxed somewhat. Then the brow of the boy furrowed. 

“Why spare us?” he asked. “Aren’t we more dangerous?”

Olivia wanted to retort that she wasn’t the person they should be asking. She wasn’t the person who was supposed to give them any insight. 

But she was the only one there. 

Bring them here if they survive.

They had. 

“There’s a witch. She’s the one who sent me after you.” Olivia forced the darkness to either go back to the shadows or deeper within herself. “I can bring you to her. She wanted to help you.” 

“They said witches don’t help us,” the girl said. “They enslave us.”

“Not this one,” Olivia replied. “She knows the vampires in that area better than I do. Ones we can coexist with.”

“The ones who’ll train us, you mean.” The boy was still frowning. 

“The ones who’ll stop you murdering people who don’t deserve to die,” she said sharply. 

That shut both up. Olivia had expected them to ask her if the other two had deserved to die. Maybe that wasn’t the main question on their mind. 

And when she turned around, she nearly expected them to tackle her and try to drink her blood. They didn’t. They just followed. 

Olivia hoped this wouldn’t wear off once they got to town, closer to humans. She just had to rely on this sudden restraint lasting a bit longer. Then it’d be out of her hands. 

The girl broke the silence once. “Why’d you let us live? How do you know we won’t end up like them?”

Olivia wanted to tell her that wasn’t the wisest question to ask someone like her. When she looked back, she just saw that the girl was frowning at her. She genuinely wanted to know. Where had the self-awareness come from? 

She needed a different response. Something better than, you’ll learn how to not rip everyone’s throat out. 

“I let you live, because I know neither of you actually wanted to kill those people,” Olivia told them. “Neither of you are monsters.” But I am, she thought. 

The vampires didn’t ask her anything else. 

______

Author's Note 

Perhaps a bit of a mismatched chapter, but I hope the way the parts mixed together was relatively cohesive. The hardest bit to write for me was actually the exchange between Vivi and Haseul. They’ve got a unique dynamic in this story as it’s not bogged down by the past. 

As for Olivia’s section, I’ve got a story where vampires are in the forefront, so it’s been a bit strange to write them from a very different point of view. It follows the line of thought where power can truly corrupt, as well as time spent a bit detached from the troubles of normal life. Still, not everything’s lost, I’d hope. 

I’ve got a semi-vacation at the moment. I’m still busy with other things, but there’s a bit more free time. That’s meant a lot of reading, but also a lot of writing, so I hope to get this story ahead a little bit more. The next update should be up soon, but I won’t say any definitive time. 

On another note, I can only ask that you keep the people in Beirut in your thoughts. It seems as if there’s no shortage to tragedy in the world and it’s easy to feel powerless in the face of it. I’m not in any position to speak much about that, but the least I can hope for is that a few words here and there can bring your mind to another place, or portray themes of some importance in my work. 

I hope you're all well and healthy. See you in the next chapter.