“Jiwoo?” a voice broke through the bustle of the tavern. 

Chuu started, nearly spilling her drink. The place she’d discovered had better soju than others. She should’ve known that the others would come there. She’d hoped they’d have just gone to the more refined places. “Hi?” 

Sooyoung sat down in front of her, a frown on her face. “Why’re you here?” Her now brown eyes made her look less ethereal, but no less beautiful. Chuu already saw how the eyes drifted towards her. She herself was more unassuming. She also never tried to look confident around the mortals. They seemed to be attracted to that. 

“I have the day and the night off.” And the world around me is getting darker. She didn’t add the last part, but it spurred her to pour another glass. Surprisingly, it hadn’t taken much to give Chuu a buzz. She knew she got easily intoxicated from the wines and other terrible drinks Jinsoul sometimes brought back from the rest of the world. And she had no intention of being drunk, only to have a lightheartedness. 

She did feel light, but the rest of her still felt heavy. Why people felt it necessary to drink away their sorrows, she could hardly understand. She was already starting to feel disappointed in herself. Was she really trying to help herself through a drink? 

At least the drink tasted good. And she'd actually enjoyed being surrounded by complete strangers. Some said that being alone was dangerous. Had Chuu not had her magic, let alone her enhanced strength, she would've agreed. 

“You were going to gather news.”

“I did.” Chuu patted the light cloth bag. “Nothing much of interest.” Only more information on the different tasks Hyejoo had been doing. No mortals had been killed. For that Chuu was thankful. 

She looked around, finding the others engaging in conversation with a smaller group of guards. They were young. 

“I think I’ll be going,” Chuu took out the money and drank the rest, “the next place ought to have more to tell.” It made sense. Hyejoo would have had an aura that few mortals would want to face. She’d go to the more dangerous of places. There, at least, people wouldn’t pay too much mind if someone was threatening. Then again, the view of women among most humans was still flawed. While she had no doubt that Hyejoo could handle herself, the attempts of men to take advantage of her had the potential to be dangerous. For them. 

A hand gripped her wrist. She hadn’t seen it coming. That was becoming more frequent. “Next time.” 

“I won’t be stumbling my way over,” Chuu laughed, “though that might help me get in.” She got to her feet. She was hardly dizzy. Was it her mind that was healing now? Maybe she'd ask Jinsoul. "I've also got to get a wolf some chains." Even though a full moon caused the transformation, a bit of moonlight laid across restraints seemed to soothe a wolf. It at least kept them in one place longer than normal. And if a werewolf was on the loose, any time they could win could save a life. 

Sooyoung didn’t let go, but stood with her. Then she said, “I’ll come with you.” 

“You’ll come along?” She spared another glance at the table, only to see Teveril glancing over at them now and then. “I think someone will miss you.” 

Her eyes didn’t leave hers. “This’s important.” 

“You having fun is important,” Chuu replied. “And I’ll tell you everything.” She patted her hand and pulled her arm away. “When I go back.” 

Sooyoung frowned. "You don’t want me with you?” 

“That’s not it,” she protested. She wondered if it would have been better if she'd said yes. “It’ll just be better for both of us tonight.” Already, pits of jealousy were forming. She wouldn’t stay, but she also didn’t want to know much else about the rest. 

The hurt flickered across her eyes. “Alright.”

Chuu wished she could explain more, but that would just bring more questions than she ever wanted answered. And with what had happened recently, she’d been getting worse at hiding her sight. So much had been happening, too quickly at that. Like with Hyunjin, Yerim, and Yeojin. She would've been a fool to not follow what the moon had shown her just to keep a secret. 

“Don’t frown,” she said softly. “I’m a little more capable than you think.”

Sooyoung smiled, but it was weak. “It’s not that I’m worried about.” 

“Then you don’t have to worry at all.” Chuu grinned at her and left. It didn’t feel like the right way to talk to her, but she didn’t know how else to do it. If she spoke and acted as she wanted to, she’d do everything wrong. And then they'd fall into something determined by fate. That was something Sooyoung wouldn't want. 

It was better this way.

She was reminded of that when she heard Sooyoung’ low laugh. She could feel how the light around Sooyoung brightened then. This was how it had to be. Even if the light binding them still hadn’t dimmed, it would. Eventually.

And then both of them would be free of it. 

______

Five years ago 

“You know,” Sooyoung smiled, “it’s really incredible what you can sometimes see.” Her red eyes had glazed over. She was looking into the past. That aspect of the sight was more common, but most people used it only regarding vampires. Chuu had always wished she'd been able to do that. 

Chuu nodded, before realising Sooyoung wouldn't have seen that. “The past is, by all other accounts, more richer than the future.” 

Her gaze focused and she grinned at her. “Don’t lie,” she chided, “you’re always looking forward.” 

The heat rushed up her face. She looked away, hoping that would just make her just seem bashful. “Tell me about what you were looking for.”

“I saw temples being built,” Sooyoung said, awe in her voice. “The humans had slaves do that work, slaves made from other humans,” she frowned, “but they made great stone constructs. Ones that’re still all there.” Her eyes lit up. “They’re in the places where there’s a great deal more heat and few forests,” she said. “But we could get there through the water?”

Just through the enthusiasm, Chuu could feel how far off it was. She saw a faint glow around it. They’d go there. Eventually. “We’ll go,” Chuu replied. 

Sooyoung took her hand, as though it were a simple thing to do. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” It only took one look at Sooyoung’s face to know how much she’d love that journey. And if it was possible, Chuu’d never quell the hope for that. Not even if it would help her. 

A long pause followed then. 

Chuu glanced up then, only to meet Sooyoung’ eyes. 

“Thank you for being okay with that,” the other elf said. 

Chuu smiled. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“It’s not that,” Sooyoung squeezed her hand, “it’s just that sometimes I feel like—“ She stopped then. 

“Like?”

She bit her lip. “I,” she stammered, “what do you want to do? What's a place you've always wanted to go to?"

This was coming out of nowhere. Chuu’s mind was empty with those questions. 

“You never talk about what you want.” Sooyoung leaned forward. “Did you even want to go to the colder south?” 

She laughed slightly. “It always became worthwhile,” she replied. “I usually didn’t understand until we got there.” But after she knew the story, after she’d seen Sooyoung's smile as she told it, then she’d known why. 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” 

“I like the past,” Chuu said. “I just never know where to look. You do.” She looked up at her. “So once you or Chaewon knew where you wanted to go, that’s where I wanted to go too.” 

“And what about the rest?” Sooyoung’s brow furrowed. “You just want to do what we always do in the forest?” 

“You mean live?” Chuu raised a brow. “Our life’s filled with magic and all that comes with it.” She smiled. “And on top of it, we get to have everything else we already do."

She sighed. “You make me sound ungrateful.” She shifted closer to her. 

“You aim higher than I do,” Chuu replied. “My gaze is forward and—hopefully—around me.” She tried not to dwell on how close Sooyoung still wanted to be. Even though the dynamic between them had been strained every now and then, be it through arguments or moments when Sooyoung had caught her in a lie. 

“That’s not all you do,” Sooyoung said. “You make everything brighter. And I know you mean every word you use to do that.” Her grip on Chuu’s hand tightened. “And I asked you what you want because, well, I know I’m not doing the same for you.”

She frowned. “What’s brought this on?”

“A feeling,” the other said quietly. “And I know I should’ve noticed this sooner.” 

“Known what? You don’t have to do anything for me,” Chuu tried for a smile, “you’re already doing too much.” 

Sooyoung’s expression didn’t soften. “You help all of us by being sure we’ll be alright. You help me when you encourage me, and tell me that the dumb things I did were also for a reason.” A small chuckle. “But who’s saying those things to you? Who’s making time to hear what your plans are? To know where you next want to go?”

Chuu felt a small tug in her chest. She felt anxious. “I hope you’re not trying to tell me I’m lonely.” If Sooyoung was going to tell her she needed a proper confidant, she wasn’t sure how she’d react. Not to mention that was her and Chaewon's job. 

Her eyes widen. “No!” She sighed. “That sounded so wrong, didn’t it?” She rested her head in her hands. “I wanted to say that I have to be doing all that. And that you have to tell me what’s in that head of yours.” She peeked up at her. 

Her face warmed again. This time Chuu didn’t avert her eyes. “Very little, usually.”

Sooyoung gave her a look. “I mean it, Jiwoo.” She lifted her head again. “You’re always focused on the things you can do and will do, but you never tell me until you’ve done it.” She squinted at her. “Even when you’re setting me up, I'm barely ready for it.” 

Now she looked away, hoping to find some sort of refuge in the bustle of their people. “You work best spontaneously.” 

Sooyoung poked her side. “I work with a plan really well too.”

Chuu laughed. “But even better when you don’t have one.” 

She raised a brow. “Is that even a compliment?”

“Of course,” Chuu nodded, “how many times has an impulsive decision helped you more than one you deliberated over?”

Sooyoung said nothing. 

Chuu gently pat the top of her head. “I mean it in the best way I could. I trust those decisions.” Sometimes, the unpredictability of it was remarkably refreshing. It caught her off guard, throwing certain pieces into oblivion and bringing new ones. It was one of the few times Chuu liked to pay attention to the future. She liked to see how Sooyoung’s decisions changed it, how Sooyoung almost always managed to step off her path. 

“Not always,” she muttered. 

“What do you mean?” Chuu gave her a look. “When did I not?”

“Oh,” Sooyoung searched the sky, “when I wanted to court that human girl in the north, when I wanted to teach Chaewon how to hunt, when I wanted to be courted by the human boy here…” She looked at her. “Should I go on?” 

It wasn't hard to see that Sooyoung was avoiding one particular decision. One where they'd both trusted the judgments of their elders, as well as each other's. They'd all been so wrong. 

“No need,” Chuu laughed, “but I never blocked you from ‘courting’ them, only the part where you make yourself the love of their life.” 

She rolled her eyes. “I would’ve made their worlds brighter.” 

“And left a longer shadow.” Immortals always suffered if they fell for a mortal. Vampires occasionally turned their human lovers, but immortality was difficult to reach for the rest. Chuu knew of some elves who'd fallen deeply for mortals, only to have their hearts twisted when those mortals died. 

Sooyoung sighed. “I know.” She looked up at her through her lashes. “Am I that bad?”

Chuu shook her head. “You only heard one thing I said. And the rest you jumped to by yourself.” Even saying that, she couldn’t help but wonder if Sooyoung did doubt how the way she acted. Many times, it was driven by impulse, which was itself not a bad thing. It just had poor consequences. 

“You didn’t deny it.” 

“I’m denying it now,” Chuu replied. “There’s a balance to be found. I’ll just be the weight on the other end until—” she faltered.“For the next time you decide you want to draw out another human.” 

Sooyoung didn’t notice. She only leaned her head on Chuu’s shoulder. “No humans. After seeing a few of the rest falling into that slump, I don’t want to put myself through that.”

“Heartbreak,” Chuu corrected. “Not a weird slump, even if that might’ve followed.”

“From something so brief?” Sooyoung asked. “It wasn’t like Sunmi—” She sighed, her shoulders drooping at the thought of the vampire. “Is it because I caused it with them?”

This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to be involved in. But to avoid it would make it worse. “I don’t think so,” she half-lied. “It might be more that when it ends, you’re more disappointed and instead of feeling trapped when it ends.”  

A surprised laugh came then. “You sound like an expert.” 

An even worse portion of the conversation. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Sooyoung’s head shot up. “You loved someone?” Her eyes narrowed. “And they hurt you?”

Much much worse. “They didn’t hurt me,” Chuu tried to placate her, “it just happened.” She tried to relax, hoping it would be enough. “But that was a while ago.”

“You never told me.” There was something in Sooyoung’s voice. Disappointment that Chuu wouldn’t have told her? 

“It was a fleeting thing,” she told her. “Nothing that important.”

Sooyoung nodded and went back to leaning on Chuu’s shoulder. “But if you ever pointed them out to me, I could teach them a little lesson.”

“No need,” Chuu chuckled, “they wouldn’t even know what you were attacking them for.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence. Chuu was still surprised at how close their words had gotten to her secrets. She was relieved at how quickly Sooyoung could move on with something. She was also unsettled by how easy it was for her to lie. 

No. It had become easier. She couldn’t forget that.  

______

Chuu had gotten a fair amount of stares when she’d gotten in, even more when she’d sat at a table alone. None had come to join her. Perhaps they thought her a madwoman. It was better that way. 

The moon had given her a path to follow, a faint one laced with grey. She didn’t know why that would be important. Either the moon was actually helping her or it’d taken pity on her. It would be the first she’d seen of the moon showing anything like that. 

Chuu had sat there. She’d not touched her drink, but listened to the conversation around her. 

The attack on the nobleman had reached this tavern too, but in this story he’d been tortured. The ‘wraith’ had attacked him solely for the reason that he was a corrupt man in power. 

He’d had it coming to him, was the general sentiment. 

That only increased the questions Chuu had. If this man was truly so hated that his comeuppance was no surprise, then was the purpose behind Hyejoo being here righteous? Had it been right to send her? 

And would there be others? What few stories had had merit to them had spoken of things Chuu was convinced could never have been Hyejoo. Madness through fear, bodies mutilated, or homes corrupted by darkness—she knew that Hyejoo wasn’t capable of it. If she’d stepped away from killing a man, that was proof enough for it. 

There was a sharp intake of breath at neighbouring tables. Chuu watched as the shadow of her drink on the table grew sharper. A grey and white path appeared in front of her. She looked up. 

The air changed when she saw her. The future became a distant thought and only the present was what mattered. Hyejoo was here. In front of her. At the door. 

She’d grown thinner. Her cheeks and eyes had a hollow edge to them. She was still beautiful, but hauntingly so. Her eyes were darker than they had been, not even reflecting the firelight of candles scatted throughout the small building. 

Those eyes were wide with alarm. Then they narrowed. The surprise in them was replaced by hatred.

Hyejoo turned away, the door opening with a smack against the wall. Then she was gone. The path Chuu was on faded. 

Chuu followed. The sudden movement made her dizzy, but she didn’t stop. She needed to speak to her. She needed to know how she was. Other questions came to mind, but she pushed them down. 

They reached the farming grounds quickly. Hyejoo showed no signs of slowing. Her form became darker in the night, despite the moon casting long shadows tonight. 

“Stop,” Chuu got out. She ran faster. 

Hyejoo didn’t respond. She only sped up. She’d been strong before, but not fast. 

Fleetingly, Chuu wondered whether or not it was because she’d had experience running from threats. She pushed those thoughts down. 

The dark haired girl made for the trees. She was only a shadow under the moonlight. Her hair didn’t whip around as she ran, nor did the cloak she wore. She just glided across the ground. 

“Wait!” Chuu tried to push her legs to get her there faster. She let moonlight seep into her muscles to soften the ache developing in them. 

And then a tall shadow rose up in front of her. Chuu stumbled, before slipping past it. The air around it was freezing. Chuu felt fear within it. 

The next one came, each larger than the next. The distance between her and Hyejoo grew with each one. Chuu felt a mix of fear and anger each time she dodged one. 

The shadow disappeared into the trees. Chuu entered the forest some seconds later. She heard the footfalls, but saw nothing save for the dark outlines of trees. Deeper into the forest, she saw only darkness. 

She gritted her teeth and drew on the light. The path Hyejoo had left was as dark as the rest of the forests. The grey and white had vanished. Concentrating on it hurt and her eyes strained to make out its outline. 

She’d lost her. Hyejoo had run from her. And her eyes when she’d seen her. Chuu’s own burned at the memory. 

She sighed and turned away from the darkness. Her path back to the town had already been illuminated. It felt like a taunt. The moon had known that Hyejoo wouldn’t have stopped for her. It’d known she’d fail. 

______

Jiwoo still hadn’t come back. It was nearing the night of the next day. Where had she gone? 

Yves knew she was fine, but only in the way that she knew Heejin and Haseul were fine. They were out patrolling. She didn’t know if they were happy, running from something, or sleeping. 

Had Jiwoo just gone to another locale for drinks? It wasn’t like her to even want to drink for fun. She barely liked the taste of the better wines. How could she suddenly want to have soju?

And then there had been that look in her eyes, one that Yves had immediately wanted to erase. It was haunted. Was it because of Hyejoo? Or something else? Yves hadn’t known that something could affect Jiwoo to that degree. It bothered her that she was surprised. She usually knew if something was unsettling her. Jiwoo always knew if something was wrong with her and usually came to talk to to her about it. 

And the peach-eyed elf had confided in her about her guilt over what had happened with Hyejoo. They hadn’t tried to rationalise what they’d done—or what they hadn’t done. They’d just withheld their tears as they’d held Chaewon, reassuring her that Hyejoo would be alright, that they’d try to find her again. And when they weren’t around Chaewon, Yves had been there to catch Jiwoo. The guilt had torn her apart in the first years. Jiwoo had stomached it with a signature smile and bounce to her step, but she hadn’t ever slept. They could manage without it, using the moonlight to supplement that, but at some point, even the light couldn’t restore someone completely. 

That point had come during a hunt. Jiwoo was the one who’d needed to land the blow. She’d collapsed after summoning her spear. The spirit hadn’t been the issue. Chaewon and Yves had managed to bring it down with ease. All that she’d been able to think about was Jiwoo’s limp form. Before then, she’d only ever seen strength wrapped in kindness. She hadn’t realised how much Jiwoo had been struggling. Jiwoo had been hiding her, and Yves hadn't been able to notice it. 

Was this another moment where Yves couldn’t see? She was watching, but perhaps that was the issue. She wasn’t good enough to spot those changes. 

Except for yesterday. She’d seen it then. But only because Jiwoo had thought she’d be alone. She’d decided to keep her thoughts to herself. 

Yves needed to convince her otherwise. She didn’t want Jiwoo’s energy to leave her as it did. With the spirits getting more dangerous, Jiwoo put herself at risk by letting the thoughts overcome her. Yves also couldn’t let her drown in them. It wasn’t how Jiwoo worked. And if she was turning to going off on her own, finding ways to occupy her time that she otherwise wouldn’t have ever turned to, then Yves needed to be there to pull her out. 

Yves stood, knowing that her movements surprised others. “I need water,” she lied. 

“Little late, eh?” Teveril chuckled.

She nodded. “Maybe.”

"Want me to come with you?" He looked hopeful. 

Yves nearly felt bad for saying no. He was actually kind, even if there was sometimes arrogance. Yves wasn't the most humble person either. Jiwoo and Chaewon had always balanced that out. Hyejoo had too. Once. 

She just shook her head, before walking off to the woods. She tried to find Jiwoo. 

She wasn’t good at sifting through light. That was where Jiwoo excelled. She always knew where to go, her sudden purpose unexpected, but always correct. 

Yves felt incompetent in comparison. Wasn’t she supposed to have grasped this by now? Affinities could be had to different elements of their magic, but those could be overcome. If she wanted to, she could learn to glean from the future as seers could. She'd learned to do that with the past, after repeatedly dreaming of ancient structures and mortal battles. She'd never wanted to devote the years to learning it. Something about knowing the future scared her. Those she’d seen born with the sight had always seemed more troubled than insightful. She never asked them about what they saw for that reason. She also didn’t want to know. Better to act freely than with a watchful eye on every single action.

Her future could've easily been spent with Teveril and the rest tonight. She could've been going to sleep. She'd decided to look for Jiwoo. She’d leave it at that. Some would say she spent too long in the past, but there was so much more to know there. 

And she hoped to hone her sight there further. Maybe she'd learn something about Hyejoo and her darkness. Or she’d find something about what they could try next regarding the spirits. She rarely saw spirits in the past, but perhaps she could pinpoint a moment when they changed. When the darkness had strengthened. Or when the light itself had changed. Seeing the past of immortals was more difficult. She didn't know why. 

Yves closed her eyes, looking past how the light shone around her, marking either spirits or the other elves. She looked for the threads of light most familiar to her, the ones that shone the brightest to her. 

And that was when she found a distant glow. She didn’t know what about it she was seeing, but she knew Jiwoo was coming back. A small pressure started to build in her chest. 

Yves started to walk faster. If she saw her soon and far away enough from the rest, they could start talking properly. Jiwoo could admit that something was troubling her to Yves. Usually. 

She saw the pale glow first. Then she heard slow steps, but they still had a spring to them. She was tired, but in decent spirits. 

There was a small falter. She’d only seen Yves now. That meant she’d been lost in her thoughts. 

“You can have today off as well,” Yves said. “Myarrar brought down a fair amount today and Yeojin made her best dish yet out of one.”

“I’ll definitely eat,” Jiwoo replied. “But I’ve had my days off.” She bounded over to her, a small smile on her face. “Miss me?” 

“Yes.” She nearly took her hand, but thought against it. Jiwoo sometimes got startled by it. “What did you find?” 

The smile disappeared. “I saw her.”

Yves’ heart lurched. 

“Really?” 

The corner of Jiwoo’s lip twitched. “She saw me and ran.” She looked away. “I followed her, but she,” her brow furrowed, “put shadows in my path.” 

She felt cold then. She looked at Jiwoo closer to see if there was any strange light to her, or a shadow she hadn’t noticed. 

“I’m alright,” Jiwoo said hastily. 

“No.” Yves only had to look in her eyes for that. It hadn’t hurt to see her, let alone chase after her. It had hurt that Hyejoo had run. 

The other girl didn’t respond. She bit her lip and looked away. Would she tell her about how disappointed she was? Or try to keep that a secret? Suddenly, pressing her for answers didn’t seem like the right thing to do. The look in Jiwoo’s eyes was fragile. 

“They way she looked at me,” Jiwoo murmured. She blinked, but no tears fell. “It was only for a moment. She’d been scared. And then furious.” opened, before closing again. “Sooyoung, she–she,” she blinked again, shaking her head, “she hates me.” 

Yves pulled Jiwoo into a hug. She didn’t have to ask this time. Jiwoo couldn’t hide how much this hurt. And the truth of it wrapped itself around Yves’ heart as well. “She hates us,” she said. “Everyone who turned away.”

“But we were the ones who should’ve stood with her.” The words were shaky, but still said with such certainty. 

The hold around her heart tightened. It hurt. “I know,” Yves said. “But we didn’t.” They weren’t the words that would help, but she didn’t know if there were words that could erase that look in Jiwoo’s eyes or the pain Yves now felt. 

Only a change would help that. A change that would let black eyes look at them with love instead of hatred and anger. And that was impossible. 

Then Jiwoo pulled away. She wiped at her eyes. “I’ll go tell,” she faltered. She looked to the ground. “Yerim. I’ll see how she’s doing and tell her about earlier.” 

“Don’t you want to eat first?” Yves didn’t want her to go so soon. She hadn’t shut her out this time, but was she going to now?

She shook her head. “Not hungry.” 

Two words. That was all it took. Yves’s heart sank. She’d lost her for the day. Just like she had before. Had she gone looking for Jiwoo then, would she have found her after she'd gone after Hyejoo? Could Yves have started to shave off the pain Jiwoo was feeling now?

Yves forced herself to try again. “Can I come with you?” she asked. “I can wait outside if she doesn’t want me there.” 

Jiwoo just smiled. It was the one she used to comfort others. The one she’d use to tell Yves to leave. “I’m pretty sure you’re too hungry for that. I heard your stomach growling earlier.” Her peach-coloured eyes brightened ever so slightly. “So get to dinner and I’ll join a bit later.” She patted Yves arm. It was supposed to be a kind gesture. 

Then she walked off through the trees, her steps easy. The ache in Yves' chest had grown stronger. 

It felt a bit like a stab. Jiwoo would excuse herself with kind words and a warm smile, but they were still excuses. She didn’t want Yves to be around her for long, if at all. And she still didn’t know why. Whatever it was, Jiwoo hadn’t felt the need to tell her.  Was it because she thought she’d complicate things more than they already were? Or because the truth would hurt her? 

______

The sadness was working. Almost too well. Choerry felt as if her entire body had doubled in weight. Moving took more effort than it had when she’d first gotten hurt. 

But it was working. She needed to focus on that and just bear the feelings going through her now. 

She forced herself to her feet. That involved a combination of getting the earth to push herself up and getting a staff of it to lean on. 

She didn’t dare summon any light. She wasn’t even sure if she’d be able to. Choerry counted herself lucky for still having magic without the light. She couldn’t imagine how other Astra felt after getting attacked by a bright spirit. 

Choerry’s bit of exercise involved growing her dirt hut as she walked. She almost smiled thinking about how it looked from the outside, but the muscles to smile were also heavy. She really didn’t like how the sadness was affecting her, but at least the uncomfortable warmth was gone. 

Her legs were stiff from lying around. Her other one hurt with most movements, but she needed to move. The darkness had gone, now she just had the light. And her injuries were healed enough that she could move around. 

She wondered how Hyunjin was doing. She wanted to see her, but she knew Hyunjin needed all the time she could get in the moonlight. 

At the very least, she knew she was okay. 

And Yeojin was talking to her now, as well as already healed from the injuries she’d gotten. Another good thing to add to the list. 

Choerry knew that Yeojin had been put off by the way she always acted. She knew that a lot of people were overwhelmed by her. The ones closest to her were the ones who could put up with that. 

Jinsoul and Jungeun were the exceptions to that, having seen her both shy and homesick. Hyejoo and Hyunjin had come next, with Hyunjin’s fascination for her nature magic being the ice-breaker. Choerry hadn’t expected Hyejoo to put up with her like others had, but she’d done it. And with her had come Gowon, who’d immediately been more open than her dark-haired counterpart. That openness had been buried somewhere now. 

Choerry had also learned early on that Chuu had the potential to be just as lively. That side had come out during better times, as well as when life was completely separate from Astran issues. 

She hadn’t seen Jiwoo’s carefree side in years. At least not for long. 

She wondered if Hyejoo had found people to make her laugh as hard as they’d used to. She hoped she had, but a big part of her doubted that. She hated how everything had fallen apart. She wanted Hyejoo had her family again. She wanted Jiwoo to burst into giggles at the smallest of things. She wanted to slip potions into different cooking pots with Hyejoo and Hyunjin. She wanted Gowon to actually crack a smile again. 

Choerry kicked at the wall of her hut. Her bad leg started to burn a moment later, even though she'd kicked with the other leg. She winced and took a deep breath. Anger made the light stronger, just as it could strengthen the darkness. How one emotion could apply to both light and darkness, she didn’t understand. Somehow, it made perfect sense to that Dahyun girl. 

She took her mind away from the past. There was a lot she wanted and much of that were things she’d never get. She’d been trying to make peace with that for years. She hadn’t managed it yet. 

Then she heard someone coming closer. Peach weaved through their light. Chuu. She was early. Choerry knew that Heejin had planned to come, then Jinsoul. She thought Chuu would’ve stayed clear of crossing paths with Heejin. 

When Choerry let the dirt fall, she spotted light surges in the distance. She could see them without her head burning. At least she had that. At least she was healing. 

A very tired looking Chuu appeared. Some of the tension in her face faded when she saw her. It’d been a bad day. 

Choerry smiled and made the strawberry bush grow taller in front of her. 

Chuu chuckled and plucked one off. “Thanks.” She took a small bite. 

“Are they asking questions?” For someone so experienced with avoiding the truth, Chuu hated lying. It took a toll on her whenever she lied to Gowon or Yves. She probably wasn’t even aware of how much it hurt her. She’d grown numb to it. 

“Wanted to,” she replied. “But there’s been more news.” formed a line. “Bright spirits were turned dark, but none of those had attacked. Dark spirits were stopping their attacks, even around that house." Then she sighed. "She killed two elder vampires. Weren’t part of a coven, at least not anymore, but—” Her brow furrowed. “Doyeon was the one who sent her.”

Choerry felt a knot in her stomach. Hyejoo had been hired to kill again? And she’d gone through with it? Hadn’t she wanted to escape that? 

“How’s Go—Chaewon?” Hadn’t Hyejoo’s decisions been the reason why the bond had flared the way it had? “Did she notice it hurting?”

Chuu’s brow shot up. She hadn’t expected Choerry to ask—or care. “The ache got a bit more, but not much more.” 

“Of course,” Choerry sat down on the ground, “even the moon doesn’t care about vampires.”

“Or it was for a different reason.” Chuu sat down across from her. “They terrorised and killed a lot of humans.”

“That human she was sent to kill might’ve also deserved it,” she threw back. “So what’s the difference?”

“I don’t know.” She looked defeated at the thought. “Sorry.” 

Choerry felt guilty. Chuu had already done so much for her. She’d risked exposing a secret she’d kept for ages just so she could help Choerry learn how to understand the sight better. She’d taken on Choerry’s secret as well. 

Eline had helped Chuu adjust, but she was pretty sure that a lot of what Chuu had taught Choerry had been learned through experience. The elder seer had offered to help Choerry as well, but she hadn’t thought that would’ve been the right way to go about this. Plus, if anyone would see her going to an elder, it would’ve raised questions. 

“You don’t have to know everything,” Choerry said. “We’re not like fairies. It’s okay if we leave some questions unanswered.”

Chuu just shrugged. 

Choerry wanted to ask more about what’d happened to make her so sombre, but Chuu could be more closed off than Jungeun. Sometimes even more than Choerry. 

But that was exactly why she needed to press her. Jinsoul had once learned how to read Jungeun and vice versa, as Jinsoul had been difficult to approach when she'd first come to the Astra. Years later, Jungeun and Jinsoul had learned to press Choerry when they needed too. That was usually to get her to admit when she was hurt or being troubled by something else. If Yves and Gowon would do the same with Chuu, maybe they’d figure it out. She wasn’t sure. Chuu was a different sort of closed off. Hers was a secret she’d kept almost her entire life. 

She looked up, ready to ask. 

“I saw her,” Chuu muttered. 

Choerry didn’t have to ask who, but her heart sank. “When?” She hadn’t sensed anything. That might’ve been because she could barely stand the sight of light. 

“Patrol.” She closed her eyes. “I was in town, had just finished things up with a wolf. They’d needed chains. Then I’d gone for a drink and she’d come in.” Her voice had started to shake. “And ran the moment she saw me.”

Choerry wanted to ask more, but she knew Chuu wouldn’t want to relive that moment yet. She both understood why Chuu hadn’t been there for Hyejoo on that day and she didn’t. What she did know very well was how much Chuu regretted it. She knew how much it hurt her and she understood that seeing Hyejoo this time had just cut open that old wound. 

So she took her hand instead. Chuu jumped, but didn’t pull away. She hadn’t expected that. That meant her thoughts were just on Hyejoo and not the future. 

“If she leaves, it’ll be my fault,” she muttered. And I know how much you want her back in your life.” She opened her eyes. There were no tears, just frustration and pain. “I’m sorry, Yerim. I should’ve known she’d be close enough for that. And I,” her breath hitched, “I tried to follow her, but I shouldn’t have.”

Choerry knew that had been a mistake, but she couldn’t blame her. “It’s okay.” She squeezed her hand. “She’ll be staying in Korea for now. Maybe she’ll try and learn another language, but you know that’ll take her a few years.” Korean had taken a while. For Choerry too. Yves and Jungeun had taught most of them. 

“It’s no small landmass.”

“It gets smaller if Hyejoo stays on this path,” she replied. “We just seek out the witches in each city, village, and hut. Jungeun’s great at getting those answers. We could find her again.” But even then, Choerry wasn’t sure if they should. 

Unless she was in danger. Then they needed to find her.

The mention of Jungeun seemed to bring a little clarity back. For a moment, Choerry wondered if Chuu actually felt something else for her. Maybe, but Choerry also knew that the feelings Chuu had for Yves had definitely not faded. As far as she knew, Jungeun was being Jungeun and Chuu was trying to look somewhere other than Yves. It probably wasn’t helping things, but both thought it was. 

“Can you see her path?” Chuu asked. “For me it’s dark, but not like a terrible fate.” She sighed. “It’s the same with Hyunjin. It’s just uncertain.” 

“I can’t see either,” she admitted. “If I try to look, it hurts.” She’d had her sight directly after the attack, but then it’d slowly gotten lost. She didn’t know what to make of that. She loved having her head clear of paths and the rest of the future. That was a clarity she’d missed. 

At the same time, it meant she had no idea what was coming. She didn’t know if Yeojin would be going off on her own again. She didn’t know if Jungeun was about to make another dangerous decision. She didn’t even know if the moon wanted her to walk left or right. 

And now, she didn’t know if she was following the path set out for her, or if she was going against it like she usually tried to do. 

Chuu had been silent, but now she put a hand over Choerry’s. “It was just a head wound,” she said. “Something you’re still healing from.” The message was clear. You haven’t lost your sight.

“But if you could choose,” Choerry began, “wouldn’t you want it gone?”

“A lot of the time I do,” she replied. Then a small, but honest, smile appeared. “But what if you hadn’t seen the light leave Hyunjin in that forest? What if the seers hadn’t sense that there’d be Astra outside of this clan, but in a very different one?” She shrugged. “It brings a lot of good. And for me, my sight is like your magic over nature.”

Briefly, the thought of losing said magic crossed her mind. The mere mention was painful. “You’d feel lost.”

Chuu just nodded. The smile on her face looked sad. 

And Choerry knew why. The sight was a part of Chuu just as much as the earth felt like a part of Choerry. Trees could bend towards her when she was alone and desperately longing for company. Fruits could start to grow, or even ripen, when Choerry was hungry. And for Chuu, the paths she saw were as normal as dirt roads and stone paths were to mortals. She either followed them or ignored them. And when it came to others, she was always looking out for where their path led. Chuu tried her best to step in when she could, but a lot of the time, she was able to step away. Those decisions were completely natural to her, despite not many being able to share that insight. 

So as much as Chuu hated her magic, she’d had it all her life. She’d learned to live with it. She’d learned to use it for the good of all their futures. So even if she had the choice, she wouldn’t give it up. 

______

Gowon watched as Sooyoung sank to the ground. She looked lost. 

“Did you make this?” She peered at the pot of noodles. 

“If I said yes,” Gowon raised a brow at her, “would you still eat it?”

Sooyoung winked. “Might have to drink a tonic beforehand.”

She tossed a twig at her. “Unless it’s burnt, everything I make is delicious.”

“But only if it's not charred.” Even so, she took a decent sized serving. She ate a forkful, wincing at the heat. Then her brow rose. “It’s good.” She sounded too surprised. 

“Of course it is,” Gowon huffed, “I made it, so it’s delicious.” The pain in her chest was still there, but it'd subsided since Dahyun had brought those memories to the surface. Even if the memories themselves carried a different pain with them. 

“So you’ll be making dinner for the rest of the year?”

“I’ll burn it all.”

She raised a brow. “A year is nothing.”

“But it’s still long!” Gowon whined. 

Sooyoung laughed. “Okay fine, you’ll just have this month.”

She grumbled at that. In reality, she was just glad she’d gotten that look out of Sooyoung’s eyes. 

It would come back. She knew that. And if Jiwoo came over in a good moon, that lost look would be gone again. Sooyoung had always been a bit like a mirror to Jiwoo’s positivity. 

That worked the other way too. If Jiwoo was genuinely forcing a smile, then Sooyoung would move closer to her, almost as if she was trying to draw that negative energy out. 

And now, Sooyoung was starting to relax from whatever had happened tonight. She was gently teasing Gowon, either about her height or cooking prowess. Gowon retaliated with jibes about her recent dancing escapades during a patrol, or her age. 

Then Jiwoo came, looking exhausted. 

Gowon saw Sooyoung straighten, as if ready to go to her side or prepare a plate for her. 

Wordlessly, Jiwoo filled her own bowl and sat down on Gowon’s side, opposite Sooyoung. 

“Yerim’ll be able to come outside tomorrow,” she said. A weak smile appeared. It met her eyes this time. “It’s finally stopping to burn.” She glanced to the sky. 

They still hadn’t talked about how Jiwoo had known something had been wrong in the first place. It didn’t feel like the right time, so Gowon didn’t bring it up. 

Something tugged at her chest then. She ignored it. Even though the ache had gotten less, something about it had ben changing recently. Especially a few days ago, when there'd been an actual burst of pain. 

Jiwoo ate slowly, giving them the news from a recent patrol she’d had. It'd involved some vampires, a werewolf, and a witch who’d tapped into necromancy. 

All Gowon knew about that kind of magic was that the light around the users and targets was a sickly looking purple and red. It always made her want to vomit. 

Was that the reason for the bright spirits attacking? Their light also made her feel sick. If a spirit had once been the soul of a person, maybe necromancy was what corrupted them. 

Gowon had no idea. There weren’t enough necromancers for that. At least not in their area. They also didn’t need to deal with them much. 

“What was this one doing?” Sooyoung asked. 

Jiwoo grimaced. “One set was sent to raid a supply trail. Intercepted that. The other went around dismantling whatever houses they could and overrunning them. We got another fae involved with that one.” 

“Did you,” Gowon stopped herself. She didn’t want to finish that sentence. 

She shook her head. “He was desperate for food and wanted to make enough noise so that a coven would notice.” She sighed. “Doyeon took in him, talking about some coven that’ll excuse what he did.”

That wasn’t surprising. Doyeon was forgiving of a lot of things. She excused newborns who’d been thirst-crazed, even helping them find proper guidance and covens who’d welcome them no matter how often they’d lost control. And she almost never let a witch be killed for what they’d done. Even if they’d completely violated the natural order, Doyeon insisted they could be convinced to follow different schools of magic. 

“How old?” Sooyoung asked. 

“Very young,” Jiwoo replied, looking at her food. “Only twenty years.”

It was always weird to consider a mortal’s age. This witch had been born when Gowon and all the rest had looked exactly as they did now. He’d been an infant, a child, and was now only a young man. To him, his life had been long and he would still be living for an eternity—a brief life, but one filled with possibility and room for growth. 

Of course Doyeon would pardon someone like that and Jiwoo would go along with it. 

“And,” Jiwoo glanced at Sooyoung then, a silent question there, “there was something else. After I’d gotten finished with the witch.” 

Gowon caught Sooyoung nod. Whatever the news, they were going to deliver it gently. She didn’t need them to. 

“You saw her,” Gowon said. 

Jiwoo started, before resignation came over. She only nodded. 

The thought of Hyejoo strengthened the ache in her chest. She thought of black eyes filled with warmth. Whether they’d been like coal or obsidian, Gowon had always found her eyes beautiful. And they’d been expressive when her voice and face hadn’t been. She’d always been able to read her. Better than anyone else she knew.  

“How was she?” Gowon asked. “Healthy?”

“Tired,” Jiwoo murmured. “But she seemed alright.” Her shoulders dropped. “And she runs fast.”

A simple statement, but pain ran through those words. 

“But she didn’t lash out,” Jiwoo continued. “That’ll be evidence enough.” A dry laugh. “If she can see me and not use her magic against me, then the rest’ll know full well that she’s not a danger.”

Gowon wondered what Hyejoo would do if she saw her. She almost wished she’d lash out. Anything to get rid of whatever anger she’d have had building for the past years. At the very least, she’d be able to get her revenge. 

“You think she’ll stay?” Gowon asked. The pain of the bond hadn’t faded to a dull ache yet. That meant she was still close. At least compared to before. 

Gowon wasn’t sure to make of that knowledge anymore. Seeing Hyejoo had been both a hope and a fear of hers. And whenever she had hoped, she’d grown afraid of it. 

She wasn’t afraid of what Hyejoo would do. She’d let her do what she wanted. She deserved anything Hyejoo would throw at her. 

No, she was afraid of what it would mean. She dreaded the moment she’d watch rage and hatred flood those dark eyes. She was afraid of seeing the person she loved most hate her. She knew Hyejoo hated her, but seeing it would be something very different. A part of her knew she wasn’t strong enough to bear that. It would be the moment she finally broke. 

“I think she will,” Sooyoung said. “She’ll do what she can to avoid seeing us, but she’ll at least stay in Korea.”

Jiwoo was nodding along as she spoke. There was a soft smile on her face. 

Then she blinked and the warmth there was gone. She stood up. 

“Going already?” Sooyoung asked. The lost look was coming back. “They’ll have music soon. I thought you’d like that.” 

Jiwoo smiled, but shook her head. “I’m tired tonight.” Then she was gone. No mention of anything else, even though there was clearly a lot of pain in her heart. 

It’d taken them a while to even see Jiwoo’s more vulnerable side. They’d had to properly coax it out of her, sometimes with tight embraces, other times with long discussions further away from camp. 

And Jiwoo was still distant. She wasn’t always, not like before, but there was still a rift. 

Sooyoung was still looking in the direction she’d gone. There were tears in her eyes. 

Gowon was beside her in an instant. Even when things had gotten hard, Sooyoung had forced herself not to shed tears. And now she did. 

Now, she leaned into Gowon’s side. “What am I doing wrong?”

“What do you mean?” Sooyoung had gotten them through a lot in the past years. She’d always been there before as well. For all four of them. “You’re doing everything right.”

“She won’t even look at me,” Sooyoung muttered. “Is it because of what happened? Does she blame me for—”

“No,” Gowon cut her off. “She was the one who said it was all of us and she’s right.”

“Then what did I do?” 

She didn’t know what she could say to ease this sudden flow of doubt. 

“How do you know it’s what you did?”

“She lets you in, same with Jungeun and Choerry,” Sooyoung blinked twice, “and Dahyun can get her talking more than I can.” She sighed. “How can it not be me?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Gowon told her. “Jiwoo’s respect for you hasn’t changed.” She didn’t want to continue that sentence. Even if she could have, their relationship, or lack thereof, wasn’t her place. 

“Sure,” Sooyoung drawled, “she tries to avoid me any time we could be alone. If she’s clearly struggling, she won’t even talk to me.” Her expression crumpled. “She’s been like that a few times. Do you think that—” shut. 

“What?” Gowon asked. The moment she heard the doubts, she could dispel them. She saw more than both combined. The two danced around each other, with Sooyoung being hesitant and Jiwoo being…well, that was something else entirely. 

“Am I losing her?” She looked up and what Gowon saw in her was heartbreaking. “She stays with us because she loves you. She also doesn’t think she fits in with the rest—she doesn’t even like most of them, except for Yerim and, well, Jungeun.” Her gaze fell. “Whatever it is she wants, or what she needs,” she broke off. Then she sank further into Gowon’s side. “It isn’t me.”

“Sooyoung,” Gowon said. “Look at me.”

It took a few seconds, but she did. How many times had Gowon worn an expression like that? How many times had Sooyoung comforted her, trying to restore her hope and usually succeeding in small ways? 

The difference now was that the person Sooyoung loved was still in this camp. And yet Sooyoung still thought she was losing her. Gowon had lost the person she loved. The space they’d held in her heart was now a place in constant pain. 

That just meant she could talk some sense into Sooyoung. 

She didn’t know if the two were bonded, but they kept coming back to each other as if they were. No one Sooyoung had fallen for had been able to compare. Sooyoung had confessed that before, but not to the right person. 

“She’s been by your side for years and she’s not going to leave it any time soon,” Gowon said, trying to keep her voice firm. “You’ve been in worse places than this. Once she thought you were an with no self worth when you were clinging to that other of a vampire for years.”

Sooyoung looked momentarily stunned, opening and closing several times. “Sunmi wasn’t an .” 

“Maybe not, but you idolised her and neither of you were great back then.” Gowon had actually liked that vampire. She hadn’t liked the person Sooyoung had become around said vampire. “But even then, Jiwoo didn’t cut you off when she could’ve.” In the beginning, it’d just been jealousy, which Jiwoo had learned to hide pretty well. After a while, it’d just turned into frustration, because Sooyoung hadn’t seen how much value she’d placed into her lover and how little she’d kept for herself. 

“You never told me that.” Sooyoung’s voice was quiet. 

“Because you were heartbroken right after it ended and you needed us.” And Jiwoo had made Gowon promise not to make it worse by telling her everything Sooyoung had been doing wrong. “You’re not an now and you’re doing everything right. Jiwoo sees that and she’s not going to leave.”

“Did she tell you?” She still sounded small, but she didn’t look as defeated. 

“I know she won’t,” Gowon replied. Whatever it was that kept the two apart, she knew it was just Jiwoo. It’d been going on for a while, but she’d never made any move to turn away then. She wouldn’t now. Especially not now. 

Sooyoung nodded. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I didn’t know you’d had any wisdom in that head of yours.”

Gowon pinched her side. “You were running out of it, so I had to step up.” 

She stuck out her tongue. “We both know Jiwoo’s the brains between us.”

“I’m second,” she grumbled. Even so, she smiled at the new lightness in Sooyoung’s eyes. She’d been able to bring that back. Her years of watching those two had paid off. 

Maybe she’d try talking to Jiwoo and help her tell them what problems she’d been having now. Maybe they could take down those barriers between them. 

_____

Author's Note

A bit more of a yyxy focused chapter, specifically Jiwoo and Sooyoung. Theirs is quite the complicated dynamic for me. Miscommunication can be an infuriating thing and it sometimes is here. For me, if I do have it, I want there to be a good reason. In Jiwoo's mind, keeping the fact that she's a seer has to be a secret. With that, she also can't say that her and Sooyoung are bound. That leads to a lot of her holding back information. For you, can that be considered a good reason? 

We're also getting closer to properly putting together the two main stories. I know it's taking long to get there, but I hope you find it to be a worthwhile journey! When I first thought of this story, I knew it would be a longer one. There were characters whose stories I really wanted to take some time to explore, while the paths of others became more fleshed out the more I wrote. 

Would really love to know your thoughts. Either about Chuuves, something about the yyxy situation, or anything else! That this story is still being read and commented on, even upvoted, is so wonderful for me. Thank you all for supporting this story!

See you in the next chapter.