Something twisted in Jinsoul’s chest. It was cold, like a knife of ice. 

Jungeun’s eyes weren’t red. Why weren’t they red? 

The feeling got stronger. The knife had grown heavier. 

“Jinsoul?” Jungeun’s expression had melted into concern. “What is it?” 

Jinsoul tried to speak. Then the pain surged. 

The fire vanished. 

Jungeun was pulling her up in the next moment. Jinsoul wanted to tell her not to exert herself. She’d hurt herself. 

“Let’s go back.” Her arm went around Jinsoul’s waist, supporting her. “Drink something.” She held up a waterskin. 

She shook her head. “T-that’s for you.” She searched Jungeun’s eyes for a sign of something. “Does anything hurt now?” 

“I think it’s you who’s hurting,” Jungeun replied. “Did something happen?” She looked at her, worried now. 

Another stab. 

Jinsoul gasped. 

Jungeun tightened her grip. Her steps quickened. “Where does it hurt?” 

“My eye,” she got out. “My chest.” Her heart most of all. 

“Did you get attacked?” Jungeun asked. “I can’t see anything from the light.” 

Just then the trees began to move in one direction. 

Seconds later, Yerim appeared. Her eyes were wide. She knew something was happening. 

“What’s happening?” She looked between them, her gaze lingering on Jungeun. She looked scared. 

“Jinsoul’s hurt,” Jungeun said, still walking. “I don’t know why.”

“Jinsoul,” Yerim repeated. She looked at her, then the space in front of her. “I don’t—“

“Help me,” Jungeun told her. “We’ll figure it out on the way or there.” She hadn’t snapped. This was just the voice she used when things were hard. 

The darkness would’ve made her snap otherwise. Or was she holding back because of Yerim? Or just not as affected? 

Yerim was at Jinsoul’s other side. 

“Why did you come?” Jinsoul asked. The pain had eased ever so slightly. She could speak again. 

“I,” she began. Then she was quiet for a few seconds. “When did the pain start?” 

“An hour ago?” Jinsoul thought of when she’d worked her up. “Maybe less.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” Jungeun glanced at her. “What’s this about me having to tell you when—“ She hissed. 

Jinsoul felt herself being dragged down in the next moment. 

The pain in her chest faded. 

She caught Jungeun before she could reach the ground. If she’d been cold before, she felt like ice now. 

“Oh no.” Yerim had come to her other side. “No.” She reached for Jungeun’s hand. Then she gasped. 

Jinsoul watched as thin tendrils of darkness crawled up her hands. 

Jungeun ripped her hand away. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” she said, voice strained. Her silver eyes were locked on Jinsoul’s hands. “Don’t do that.” 

Jinsoul didn’t even have to question if she was lying about being alright. If Jungeun was feeling the same pain Jinsoul had, then she was close to agony. 

“We have to get back,” Yerim pulled her up, “now.” There was both calm and terror in her eyes. What was she seeing? What was happening? 

Jungeun’s head tilted up. Her eyes were grey. 

Jinsoul felt cold. This was the second stage of the darkness. 

As they kept going, Jungeun grew heavier. Jinsoul focused on the darkness in her and tried to pull on it. It didn’t come to her at all. 

“Jungeun?” Yerim called. She flinched at one point. 

No response. 

Jinsoul shook her. 

“Huh?” Jungeun groaned. “Now it hurts.” 

Yerim looked above Jungeun to Jinsoul. There was something about the look she gave her that made Jinsoul’s throat tighten.

“Did you tell anyone you were coming here?” Jinsoul asked. 

“Eline and Jiwoo.”

But they weren’t here yet. 

Jinsoul slipped her arms beneath Jungeun’s legs and back, before picking her up.

“I can walk.” She shifted around. Her eyes were a dark grey. Her skin was the colour of bone. Her hair was pure white. 

Jinsoul started running. She gave Jungeun more light as she did. 

“That’s,” Jungeun began, “not helping.” 

“It will,” Jinsoul told her. She gave more. She felt the darkness recoil. Then it snapped to her. Jinsoul felt it creep up her arms. 

“Stop!” Jungeun’s body twisted. She fell from Jinsoul’s arms, landing on the ground. “Don’t do that again.” She pushed herself up. 

Then the pain returned, embedding itself in Jinsoul’s heart. 

Jungeun’s heart. 

Jungeun fell back to the ground, hissing in pain. She rolled around. She was blinking, her eyes searching the space above her. 

Jinsoul scrambled to her side. 

“Soul,” she gasped. “I don’t—“ 

“Don’t move.” Jinsoul pressed a hand to Jungeun’s chest and forced the light in. She drove it into the darkness there. 

Her fingers went numb as shadows coated her fingers. 

“Stop.” Jungeun’s eyes had turned black. She tried to push her hand away. 

Jinsoul felt panic try to take hold. She stamped it down. “Come on.” She tried to get Jungeun to her feet. “We need to get to Nuala.” She picked her up again. 

“Don’t take the darkness,” Jungeun muttered. “Don’t give me any light.” 

She didn’t reply, but she didn’t try anything else. 

“Yerim,” Jungeun called. “Be honest with me.” She swallowed, her eyes were looking up at Jinsoul. She looked calm, reassuring. 

Jinsoul couldn’t bring herself to look away. If Jungeun was scared and hiding it, then she couldn’t look away. 

“Do I still have a path?” 

There was no reply. 

Jungeun turned her head. “It could still change.” She looked back to Jinsoul. “Hyejoo could still come.”

And if she doesn’t? Jinsoul thought. What if she‘s too late? 

Jungeun winced now and again. 

Jinsoul felt the pain start to come back. 

“It’s getting better,” Jungeun muttered. 

“Good.” Jinsoul ran faster when she saw the fires of the camp. 

She went straight for the healing tent. 

“It’s getting worse,” she told Nuala, lowering Jungeun onto the bed. 

The healer looked at her for a second, before she nodded. Then she held out a hand. A large piece of moonlight appeared. 

“I’ll bring everything I can.” Then she left. 

“See?” Jungeun smiled lightly, but it was pained. “That’ll buy some time.” 

Jinsoul felt cold. Jungeun knew they wouldn’t be able to heal her with light. She knew she’d be lost if they didn’t heal her soon. 

Jinsoul put the light on the centre of Jungeun’s chest. She pushed it to be absorbed. It didn’t work. 

“Stop,” Jungeun said. “You’re not helping.” She moved away. 

The words hurt more than Jinsoul expected them too.

“There’s nothing else I can do,” Jinsoul told her. “This’s the only thing that could help you.” 

Yerim was beside her then. “Can I do anything?” She looked up at her with tearful purple eyes. She knew better than Jinsoul what might happen. And that was so much worse. 

“Get me everything we have for the pain,” she told her. Then she took her hand. “I’ll do everything I can until she gets here.” Because Hyejoo was coming here. She had to. Yerim nodded once. “So will I.” Then she left. 

Jungeun was staring at the roof of the tent. She was crying.  

“Is the pain worse?” 

“Yes.” The response was sharp. Then she sat up, wincing as she did. “I can’t be in here.” 

Jinsoul made to push her back. “Why?” 

Jungeun looked at her hands once, before pushing herself off the bed. She swayed once, but stayed standing. “I can’t be in here if it gets worse.” She pushed past her. 

The pain spiked again. Jinsoul couldn’t stop the cry of pain. 

And immediately, Jungeun was there again. The look in her eyes was harsher, but there was still concern there. 

“Are you doing that?” Jungeun asked. “Are you taking that pain away from me?” 

“I didn’t do anything.” 

A moment passed. Jungeun was frowning at her. Then she groaned, her knees buckling. 

Whatever pain Jinsoul had felt went away. 

She caught Jungeun before she fell. 

“Jungeun,” Jinsoul pulled her to her feet, “you shouldn’t be moving.” She tried to move her back to the bed. 

Jungeun shoved her away. “You don’t even know what’s happening!” Her dark eyes were filled with anger, but also fear. “I’m supposed to be dead by now.” 

Jinsoul flinched. 

Something softened in Jungeun’s gaze, but it was undercut by the tension in her jaw. Her hands were in tight fists. 

“Nothing we do will get rid of this,” she said. “Don’t start giving me what you can’t afford to lose.” She held Jinsoul’s gaze. “And don’t take anything either.”

Jinsoul wanted to tell her she was wrong, but she knew it’d fall on deaf ears. The darkness was making every fear of Jungeun’s stronger. That included being afraid that they’d hurt themselves trying to help her. 

Then Jinsoul felt something else. It wasn’t pain, but it felt even worse than that. 

Jungeun let out a long, but quiet, cry. She stumbled towards the bed, barely managing to sit down. 

“What is it?” Jinsoul went to her side. The air around her was freezing. 

She blinked several times, but her eyes didn’t focus on anything. 

“I can’t see,” she murmured. “Jinsoul?” Jungeun’s hand reached up. 

She took it. “Here.” The feeling she had became more defined. It was starting to hurt. 

“This isn’t your fault.” Jungeun’s voice was barely a whisper. 

Jinsoul felt Jungeun’s hand go slack. She watched her eyes rolled into the back of her head. 

She became aware of the piece of herself that was Jungeun. She felt how it started to disappear. 

And Jinsoul screamed. 

______

The air rippled. The message appeared, hurried. 

Jungeun’s worse. I think she’s dying. We need Hyejoo.

All lightness that had been in the air then vanished. 

Haseul made for the direction the others had went. 

“But she was alright when we left.” Vivi was keeping in step with her. 

“It can happen quickly,” Haseul replied. She started running. She didn’t tell her that it was a miracle Jungeun was still alive. Few had questioned it. Not really. 

Because Jungeun was Jungeun. She’d come back from every single fight, even if she’d gotten wounded. Whatever the case, a week later—sometimes less—she was on her feet again, ready for whatever came next. For years, she’d always ‘been through worse’. And in those years, people had come to think of her as indestructible. Haseul wondered if she’d been guilty of that too.

______

The camp was bright. Too bright. Olivia could feel the light around her as if the sun was shining on her in all directions. 

People were waiting for her. The seers had known exactly that she was coming. 

She ignored them all. 

“Hyejoo!” someone called. Yeojin. Olivia could feel the fear emanating from her. It was seeping out from a lot of the people there. All directed at one person. Felt for one person. 

She went straight in that direction. 

“Jinsoul and Yerim have been giving her as much light as they can, but,” Yeojin faltered. “She started screaming for them to stop.” 

“Did it hurt her?” Hyunjin asked. 

“I don’t think so.” Her brow was furrowed. “I heard her tell them to let her die.” 

The darkness was the reason for that. Olivia hoped the two knew that. Or at least realised it once Jungeun was okay again. 

She hoped Jungeun would recover. 

Behind her, she heard some start to talk amongst themselves. 

“Should we really be letting her near?” 

“Did anything about her path change?” 

“What if it just gets worse?”

A voice cut through them. “She is our only chance.” It was Freya. “Everything else will be settled later.”

Olivia was more than surprised to hear her voice. It also unnerved her, reminding her of being surrounded by Astra, left as an offering to two spirits. 

She pushed the thought from her mind. 

Then she saw Yerim pushing through the people. Olivia didn’t need to see the darkness to know she was terrified. 

“It’s getting worse,” she said, the words falling over themselves. “We don’t know what to do a-and,” several tears fell from her eyes, “I can’t see anything.” 

Olivia didn’t know what that meant. She didn’t stop to ask. 

She’d never seen Yerim like this. This was exactly why Olivia had come here. Whatever normal magic couldn’t heal, she’d be able to. 

“Come on.” Olivia squeezed her arm and quickened her pace. She didn’t tell her that Jungeun would be okay. 

And she knew it was right not to say anything once she saw Jungeun. 

When she entered the tent, the girl on the bed looked more like a corpse than a person. The moment of shock passed too slowly. The feelings of horror and disbelief clawed at Olivia’s throat. 

Then she heard the faintest breath. A part of her caved in on itself. The rest soared with relief. 

Jungeun was paler than bone. Every line and shadow on her face was more pronounced. 

She was b with darkness. She should’ve been dead hours ago. Maybe even days ago. 

She saw Jinsoul next. Her hands were shaking. Olivia had seen her scared for Jungeun and Yerim, she’d seen her grieving over the people she hadn’t been able to save. 

But what she saw was helplessness and fear. This was something Jinsoul didn’t know how to solve. Something she knew she herself couldn’t fix. Olivia wanted to take away that sense of powerlessness. 

When she saw Jinsoul put her hand above Jungeun’s heart, her skin glowing and eye glowing white, Olivia knew how Jungeun had survived this long. 

She saw some of the darkness shift to Jinsoul. She’d have to take that later. 

“I can take what she has now,” Olivia said. “But we have to get even more light than what you can give.” And from what she saw, Jinsoul didn’t have much. 

“Why?” Jinsoul was already standing. The weakness in her eyes had faded. She was focused now, only thinking about healing Jungeun—not keeping her in their lives. In Jinsoul’s mind, it seemed there was a difference. 

At least it lessened whatever panic Jinsoul was feeling. 

“Almost every bit of light she has isn’t hers,” Olivia told her. She couldn’t risk taking away the darkness only for Jungeun to still fade away. She barely even knew what happened when an Astran died of too much darkness. She’d never seen what happened when someone had to little light. She never wanted to either. 

Jinsoul was gone in the next moment. As were the rest of the girls. 

That left Olivia with Jungeun. Her heart had been engulfed by the darkness. Most people who’d gone that far had been completely overcome. Any more and they’d either died or gone mad. 

Olivia took the darkness from Jungeun’s heart first. She recognised some of her own there too. How it’d gotten there, she had no idea. 

“You better come back,” she muttered. “If you go without telling Jinsoul everything, because I know you haven’t,” she faltered. She couldn’t even finish a threat, no matter how empty it was. 

As she eased the darkness from Jungeun, what little light there was shifted. Olivia had to hold back the rest of the darkness that wanted to fill the empty space. 

That let the light wrap around Jungeun’s heart, but nothing else happened. There was no return of colour or an ease in her breathing—not even a slight change. Jungeun still lay there, motionless. 

So Olivia took more, fully aware that the darkness was also latching onto her mind. She knew it would make her more likely to attack certain people in the camp. After she was finished here. 

“More will come,” Jinsoul appeared, “but I think we’ll have enough.” She was glowing, full of light again. Her hand went to Jungeun’s, but she paused. “Can I?” she asked. “Or not yet?” 

How Jinsoul could still be patient, Olivia didn’t know. 

“Wait,” Olivia peeled the darkness from Jungeun’s arm, “now.” She felt the cold weight of rage settle over her. She shoved it down. 

She felt Jinsoul’s light as a small prick to her head. 

Yeirm, Heejin, Hyunjin and Haseul were there. Then Vivi and Yeojin came, each with their own new surges of light. Surprisingly, Shuhua and Yuqi came at one point. Olivia remembered them being intimidated by Jungeun in the past. 

It went on for what felt like hours. Few said anything, but all of them gave Jungeun light as Olivia took away darkness. 

“She’s certainly more stable than she was.” Nuala was beside her now. “Are you sure you’re not taking too much?” 

“Astrans can’t exactly have too much light,” Olivia threw back, knowing full well that her voice was too harsh. “This isn’t a lot.” It was maybe borderline, but she didn’t know. She didn’t care either. “Give her more light.”

There still hadn’t been a big change. Jungeun’s skin was slightly warmer, but still without any colour. As they continued, Olivia wasn’t finding the hope that this would work. 

It didn’t seem as if Jinsoul did either. Her hand gripped Jungeun’s, pulsing with light. 

“It still hurts,” Jinsoul said softly. She had so little light now. Both her eyes were blue again. 

“What does?” Yerim was at her side, holding her other hand. Somehow, she wasn’t able to use the light she had, but Jinsoul was able to take it. 

The rest had gone again. Nuala had gathered more light and was gradually giving it to Jungeun as well. 

Olivia’s skin was starting to feel warm in the presence of so much moonlight. It was uncomfortable. 

“My eye,” Jinsoul whispered. “And my chest.” She closed her eyes, before they snapped open, fixing onto Jungeun’s face. It was as if she didn’t want to lose sight of her. “It hurt when she was attacked. When I knew she was dying.” 

That answered Olivia’s question. She hated the answer. The reason for Maven and Hanna’s presence hadn’t been her, but Jungeun. 

“You knew beforehand?” Nuala’s gaze lifted, now on Jinsoul. She looked thoughtful. Then she looked pained. 

“And before it got her now,” Jinsoul said, her eyes only on Jungeun. “What does it mean if it still hurts?” She looked helpless again. “Does that mean she’s still here? Or,” she winced, “is she just fighting to stay alive?”

“I don’t know.” A silence. “But you have to do this,” she gave her a bright piece of moonlight, “it’ll work better than when any of us give it to her.”

Jinsoul’s brow furrowed, but she started to transfer the light anyway. “Why me?” She looked so lost. 

Olivia caught Yerim’s eye. Then she saw her look to Nuala. Yerim shook her head ever so slightly. When she looked back to Olivia, she mouthed, “later”. 

Then she looked back to JInsoul and at the space right in front of her. Or was she looking at Jungeun?

Then she realised it. A bond. How had that even happened? They hadn’t been born with the moon shining down on them. That’d come later, even being a surprise to all seers. 

Had the bond formed then too? 

Olivia felt all her anger vanish. Now there was only fear. 

She needed Jungeun to be alright. Jinsoul needed her to stay with them. They all did. 

Pulling on the darkness that was within Jungeun’s mind, Olivia felt the cold strengthen. 

Her arms had been painted with shadow. Anyone who would look at her now would be terrified. She doubted she’d be able to blame them. 

“Here’s all we have,” a terribly familiar voice said. The person’s breath hitched. “We’ll bring more soon.” 

The tent filled with a glow, it’s edges lined with peach-coloured light, as well as pale green and dark red. 

She heard Chuu leave soon after. 

“We’ll need it all,” Olivia said. “And more.” She was sensing something else within Jungeun, something very familiar. She didn’t know what they meant, but they felt like holes. It was as though the darkness had left shadows. They needed to be drowned out. 

She winced as Jinsoul began to glow brighter. Olivia closed her eyes, but her skin still burned. Her head ached too. It wasn’t the darkness, but being around so much darkness. 

“That’s enough,” Nuala said sharply. “You’ve done all that you can. This’s so much less than what she had in the beginning.” Her voice had softened. “We can only wait.”

Olivia opened her eyes. Jinsoul had stopped glowing. She watched as the elf’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. 

Yerim caught her in the next instant. 

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” Nuala told Olivia. She looked at Jungeun, the frown on her face easing. “The light is at least staying with her.” When her gaze went to Jinsoul, there was an unusual worry there. “It hadn’t been until you came.” When she met Olivia’s eyes, it might’ve been the kindest the elder healer had ever looked. “Thank you,” she said. “But you need to go rest.”

“She’s right,” Yerim said quietly. She was putting Jinsoul onto a bed beside Jungeun. Then she pushed them together. 

Both elves looked so different than the last time she’d seen them. Both looked run down—drained. It scared her. 

Jinsoul had so much good in her. She’d do everything she could to heal anyone, even before the moon had chosen her. Olivia was afraid she’d given too much this time. 

Jungeun was one of the strongest fighters she’d ever known. She’d had so much happen in her life and had been able to move on from it. And they’d nearly killed her this time. 

All because of Alluin. He wanted the Astra gone. Jungeun might’ve been one of the costs of that. 

“They still have to decide if I’m staying or not,” Olivia said, her own voice sounding distant to her. 

Nuala nodded. “I’ll speak for you.” A pause. “This time.” She wasn’t meeting Olivia’s gaze. 

“They’ll let you stay.” Yerim squeezed her shoulder. “But after that you have to rest.”

“I have to make sure that—” 

She cut her off. “You did everything you could.” She pulled Olivia to her feet. “And she’ll survive,” she whispered. There was no waver in her voice. 

Olivia let herself be led outside. “How’d you know that?” 

Yerim didn’t say anything. Tears still clung to her eyes. “I’ll tell you later,” she said. “Promise.” She looked around, checking to see if anyone was listening. There were. And from what she could tell, they were already discussing.

Then Yerim pulled Olivia into her arms. Olivia felt a slow wave of familiarity, almost like when she saw a dark spirit. That feeling was quickly overshadowed by how happy she was to be around Yerim again. She almost hoped the Astra would let her stay. 

“Thank you, Hye,” she muttered. “We almost lost them both.” 

Olivia felt a pang of shame. How could she have even considered not coming back to help? What if she’d stayed and Jungeun had died? 

“Tell me if something happens,” Olivia said when they pulled away. “I don’t care if you end up waking me.” She needed to see with her own eyes that Jungeun was okay.

“I will,” she nodded, “but I’ll be there with you now.” 

Olivia shook her head. “You can stay with them.” 

“No,” Yerim said. “I didn’t defend you that time. I’m going to today.” She started walking to the gathering before Olivia could protest. 

Eyes followed them. Olivia met each gaze, enjoying how each person looked away. But even then, nothing helped the unease building within her. 

Being surrounded by Astrans made everything worse. She remembered her skin burning. She remembered being attacked by spirits that’d been gentle all her life. She remembered people voting on whether or not to kill her. 

Even though she wished she could, she didn’t dare move closer to Yerim. 

When she concentrated, she could sense that there were a fair amount of people who’d gotten attacked by spirits. Most of the darkness had gone away naturally, but some of it still clung to them. That meant they hadn’t gotten themselves healed yet. 

Had it been to make sure that Jungeun would get all the light? Or had Nuala just refused to heal anyone else? 

Freya was in the centre of it all, but Heejin was also there. Hyunjin was a few metres away. She sent Olivia a soft smile when she saw her. 

“Hyunjin is standing because of Hyejoo,” Heejin was saying. The shadow of anger was there, but it wasn’t growing. “And now she might have just saved Jungeun’s life. What more do we have to say?” 

“She was deemed a danger when the darkness came,” Yuol said. “How can we be sure that she won’t be one now?”

“It was our anger and frustration that brought the bright spirits here,” Haseul replied. “So far, we’ve been a greater danger than she could ever be.” 

“But how do we know she’s not in line with Alluin anymore?” It was Teveril. 

Olivia resisted the urge to take his shadow. He hadn’t stopped being an . 

“The mortal who was killed had been the victim of someone else,” Haseul said. 

“And that same person attacked Hyejoo,” Yerim added. “Alluin needs as many people as he can get. Why would he let that happen?” 

Several murmurs followed. Some of them in agreement. 

“How many of you actually saw what happened?” Hyunjin was talking, a challenge in her eyes. Since when had Hyunjin said something in gatherings like this? “I saw it. They were burned by sparks and the darkness wasn’t the same as Hyejoo’s. You all remember what I had, and how different that was to hers.”

“But the two who came for Jungeun,” another began, “how did they know where we were?” 

Olivia couldn’t believe her ears. 

“You know exactly that they can use witches to find us,” Haseul said, a sharp edge to her words. 

“But has she helped Jungeun?” Teveril asked. “Do we know this?” 

Olivia felt the anger surge in many. That was also a surprise. 

“Yes we do.” There was that voice again, one that pushed Olivia very close to lashing out. Chuu. “Or,” she faltered, “I do.” 

Beside her, Yerim had straightened. Her eyes were wide. 

“Her path had disappeared,” Chuu said. “And it’s back.” She turned to Kolina then. “Am I right?”

Several things became very clear then. Chuu could see paths. She could see the future. 

She’ll survive. 

Yerim could do the same. And she’d known about Chuu. 

“How do you know that?” Kolina asked. 

Chuu didn’t answer. 

“She’s right.” Eline’s eyes were distant. Olivia hadn’t seen her arrive. “Her path has returned. Jinsoul’s is brighter again.”

She didn’t like what that meant. Why had it been darker before? Would there have been something that happened with the bond between Jinsoul and Jungeun? Would Jungeun’s death have literally taken something away from Jinsoul? Olivia hoped she never needed to find out. 

Then movement caught her eye. A brief sense of warmth followed, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Then she saw her. And her heart broke. 

Rage followed, but Olivia forced it down. 

Gowon looked terrible. Her hair had once been golden. Now it was grey. Her skin had even become a sickly colour, that around her eyes deeply shadowed. She barely looked better than Jungeun had. 

As Gowon drew closer, Olivia properly saw her eyes. They’d once been a pale, bright green. Now they’d dimmed, as though muddied. What hurt more was how empty her expression was. 

She had light. She hadn’t been attacked recently, but the light she did have was either tinged yellow or shadowed with grey. Had no one tried to find the reason? Had no one seen this and tried to find a solution to it? 

Gowon hadn’t lifted her gaze from the ground. Could she not even look Olivia in the eyes? 

Good, she thought. It was better if she was ashamed of what she’d done. 

But was it really something to celebrate if Gowon hadn’t met anyone’s eyes yet? Even when things were serious, she’d always been prepared to reassure others in small ways, either through a tiny smile or a warm gaze—or she’d convey just how much she agreed (or didn’t) with what was happening. 

Olivia tore her eyes way. Of all the things she was supposed to feel—to think—it shouldn’t have been about Gowon’s health or how she’d changed. She shouldn’t have even cared in the first place. She should’ve been screaming at her, barely containing the urge to hurt Gowon just as much as she’d hurt Olivia. 

“But we don’t know what else might happen,” Kolina said. Of course, in a conversation with seers, she’d have to give her input. 

“Neither do I,” Olivia said. Her first words to these people since they’d banished her. 

She could see their surprise, a lot of it probably because of her voice. 

“You once considered executing me,” she continued. “You knew what my weakness was before I did.” She resisted the urge to look at the scars she still had. 

Some looked away. 

An unlikely person held her gaze. Freya. The one who’d cause most of her scars. Olivia’s unease heightened, but she didn’t look away. 

“You letting me be here isn’t a risk for you as much as it is for me.” 

The elder nodded once. Golden eyes that’d once been unfeeling and cold were now tired. There was also sadness there. 

Olivia dismissed that. “I’ll heal the rest of the wounded,” she said. “And leave to where you can find me again. If anything more happens.” 

An extended silence followed. 

“Then she stays,” Freya said. “We need her to heal the wounded just as much as we need the light.” 

Olivia looked to the elder. She wondered if she should say anything. 

She decided against it. Even if she was the actual reason why Olivia could stay, that didn’t mean she needed to speak to her. It definitely didn’t mean she’d see the elder as someone deserving of respect. 

So Olivia turned away, towards the forest. She pushed past the elders and towards the end of the gathering. She smiled at how Teveril and Kolina moved away, a bit of fear sparking in their hearts. 

Once again, the fear Olivia inspired would be useful. She was safer if people were afraid. 

There was a sharp gasp then. She felt a sharp twinge in her heart, but nothing more. 

Olivia glanced back. She saw Gowon shove someone away. They nearly fell to the ground. A rush of anger had surrounded Gowon’s heart. It was joined by something else, something close to desperation. 

“It’s nothing,” Gowon hissed. Olivia had never heard her sound like that. 

The person straightened, hurt apparent on their face. It was Sooyoung—Yves. 

Olivia’s hands formed fists. Unlike Gowon, unlike Jungeun, Yves didn’t look any different. She barely looked tired. 

Then a warm hand took her arm. It was Vivi. With her were Hyunjin, Heejin, Haseul, and Yeojin. Yerim had gone back to Jungeun and Jinsoul. 

“I made a cave near the river. You can go straight there or eat here.” The ground rippled as stone rose from it. It formed a plate, one without any light whatsoever. 

Olivia felt something in her warm. It hadn’t been that long since she’d been in camp, but it still felt foreign that there were people willing to help her. 

The others with her looked hopeful. 

“I’ll go to the river,” Olivia said. “There’s a lot of light here.” It was both an excuse and the truth. Her skin felt almost raw from all the light around her. Her head was also sore. 

Their faces fell. 

“Okay.” Vivi let go of her, but she didn’t look disappointed. “Want me to come with you or can you find it yourself?”

Do you want to be alone? 

Olivia remembered then that Vivi had only recently come to the Astra. She understood this better than any of the rest probably did. 

“I’ll find it,” she accepted the plate Vivi had made, “thanks.” She hoped Vivi saw how much she meant it. 

The girl nodded. 

Olivia turned away from her old friends and left the camp. She should’ve probably stayed with them. She hadn’t been the only one missing her friends. 

But her place wasn’t by a fire pit anymore. The light they all had hurt her. 

She also didn’t want to see the Astra more than she needed to. Many had changed, yes, some even for the better, but that wasn’t enough. Olivia had changed as well—not for the better. 

And she didn’t want her old friends to see that. 

______

Jungeun dreamed of her mother. She saw her as she used to be: smiling and laughing, eyes always holding a knowing look. 

Then she crumpled to the ground, her body broken by magic. Her killers had wanted to exact revenge over something she’d done years ago. She’d never done anything as bad as Jungeun had, but they’d gone for her mother. Not Jungeun. 

She hadn’t screamed then, nor had she shed any tears. She’d just followed that magic. She’d followed the shadow of the murder. 

The memory vanished. Another took its place. 

Jungeun had found the ones responsible. Their faces were perfectly clear in her mind. One was young, his eyes full of an eagerness spurred by the naive love for battle. 

She’d gone for him first, letting the flames engulf his legs, a coil of them tight enough to hold him in place. 

As he’d screamed, she’d moved on to the next one. That elf had been running to the first’s aid. 

Another had thrown a spear her way. The flames around Jungeun had melted off the tip. She’d batted the rest of the spear away. 

She’d wrapped her hands around the next woman’s throat. She’d felt how the skin had charred below her touch. She still saw the terror and agony in her eyes. 

The violence went on. Jungeun watched as she murdered her mother’s killers. She felt the distant satisfaction of each scream, each flash of terror once they realised what their actions had brought. 

But to see it again, separate from the rage, Jungeun was horrified. She’d lived through this memory countless times. She’d seen the flames rip into those people. She’d heard them cry out to one another. She’d felt how every sound and passing second had fed into her rage. 

The moment that haunted her most was after everything had fallen silent. 

Jungeun remembered how the flames had died the moment the last person stopped screaming. 

The silence had scared her. None of the elves had scared her, not even the strength of their magic or the fact that she’d been outnumbered. There hadn’t been a moment where she’d thought to worry for her life. She’d only wanted them dead. She hadn’t let any of them run away. 

But in that moment, there’d been nothing. She’d heard nothing. 

She’d been bleeding too, but she hadn’t been able to feel the pain. She’d only been left with her anger. 

And ten corpses, their skin either blackened, red or ash grey. Some of their eyes were still open. 

She’d felt cold. Freezing. 

And then she’d screamed. It’d torn through , shattering the silence. 

Her legs gave out and the burned ground gave way beneath her. 

______

Jinsoul woke to emptiness. She didn’t know how she knew what that felt like. It was a strong sense of cold. She couldn’t feel any darkness there, nor any light. It just ached. 

But her chest didn’t hurt anymore. Neither did her eye. Only her head. 

She opened her eyes and was immediately greeted by the bright roof of the tent. 

She turned her head away, but forced her eyes open. She saw rows of other beds, all those there were sleeping. 

Just beside her was Yerim, her eyes trained on the ground. She looked up in that moment. Relief flooded her features. 

“Careful,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t be moving.”

Already, Jinsoul could sense the tears building in Yerim’s eyes. 

“I’m okay,” Jinsoul told her. Her voice was scratchy. “Just sore.” 

Yerim nodded. “Her path’s brighter.” 

Jinsoul turned around. Her head throbbed as she did. Her vision turned black for a second. 

When it cleared, she saw Jungeun beside her. 

Jinsoul held back a sob. 

The colour had returned to her face. She was breathing properly. 

Jinsoul lifted her hand, slowly to avoid another wave of dizziness. She let her thumb brush across Jungeun’s cheek. Her skin was warm. Warm. 

“She hasn’t woken up yet?” Jinsoul felt like she was in a dream. She hoped desperately that it wasn’t. 

“No,” Yerim said. “She made a sound a while ago, but that was it.”

Jinsoul nodded. “We’ll just have to wait then.” If she could see Jungeun open her eyes, if they were red again, she could wait. 

She just needed her to be alright. She needed Jungeun to feel like herself again. She needed her to not be in pain anymore. 

“Hungry?” Yerim’s tone was careful. 

Jinsoul looked back at her and smiled. “Yep. I think you are too.” 

It got her a tiny smile. “I’ll be right back.” 

She watched her go and a lump formed in . Yerim had been dealing with so much already. She still hadn’t fully told them about the fight with the bright spirit, or when she’d seen the site of that mortal’s death. They hadn’t even had a proper conversation about Yerim being a seer. 

And Jinsoul hadn’t been there for her this time either. Hyejoo had been coming back into their lives, while Jungeun had almost left them. 

They’d said they’d be a proper team again, but they were far from it. For reasons out of their control, maybe, but Jinsoul hadn’t been there enough. She needed to do more. 

Maybe that was why Yerim had confided more in Jungeun. Even though she’d had little time, Jungeun had always made time for anyone who needed her. Jinsoul had let herself be dragged away, not stopping to think about the time she was missing. 

Then she heard a low whine. 

Her chest tightened at the sound. She moved closer to Jungeun, already feeling a small surge of dizziness. 

“It’s okay,” Jinsoul whispered. 

Jungeun’s brow furrowed. Another cry came, but muffled. She was stuck in a nightmare. 

“Jungeun,” she shook her head, “you’re just dreaming.” She could feel whispers of what Jungeun was feeling. A lot of it was pain. The rest was anger. 

Jinsoul tried again. She knew what it was. Not a nightmare, but a memory. 

The curtains of the tent parted. 

“Waking draught?” Jinsoul asked. 

Immediately, Yerim put down the food and moved away. She always acted immediately. Jinsoul felt a flutter of pride. 

Jinsoul gently placed a hand beneath Jungeun’s head. “It’s just a dream,” she whispered. “It’s not real.” Not anymore, she thought. 

Another sound. A whimper. 

“You’re safe,” she told her. Yerim gave her an open vial. She tilted Jungeun’s mouth open. She couldn’t risk trying to use her magic. She didn’t even know it would work. 

She poured in the draught and closed Jungeun’s mouth, as well as , forcing her to swallow. 

Yerim was on the other side then, holding Jungeun as well. 

She started to jerk around, trying to move away from their grip. 

Jinsoul’s vision went dark again. Her hands slipped away. She felt her head meet something soft. 

When she came to, the ceiling was still bright. Yerim was still holding Jungeun upright. 

“Don’t get up,” Yerim said. “I’ve got her.”

Jinsoul stayed where she was. Light, or a lack of it, had never made her light-headed or faint. Was this because she’d kept losing light? 

Jungeun’s breath had quickened now, as had her heart. 

Then she started to cough. Each one had a small wheeze. Her lungs still hadn’t fully healed. 

“I’ll get water.” It was Nuala, her eyes bleary. She’d just woken up. 

“She needs numbing too,” Jinsoul said. “Nothing for sleep.”

“Can you hear me?” Yerim asked. 

Jungeun’s eyes were squeezed shut, but she nodded. More coughs followed, then a long groan. 

Then Nuala was back. 

“Open it,” Yerim said as she took the vial. When Nuala did as she asked, she poured the potion into the water. Yerim took the waterskin and pressed it into Jungeun’s hands. “You have to drink something.” 

Jungeun brought the water up to her lips, but her hands shook. Water trickled down her face. 

Yerim steadied it, helping her. 

Jinsoul slowly made herself sit up. There was only a small surge of dizziness, but no nausea. 

It sank in then that Jungeun was awake. She was moving. She was alive. 

When she’d finished drinking, Jungeun relaxed, her brow unknotting. Yerim lowered her back onto the bed. 

“Better?” Yerim looked hopeful, her eyes glowing. That hope was still tentative. They’d been here before, only for Jungeun to fall back into whatever hole the darkness had made for her. 

Jungeun swallowed once. “Yeah,” she croaked. “A lot.” Then she let out a long breath, wincing here and there. “You?” 

Yerim laughed. “Now that you’re awake.” 

Jungeun smiled slightly. “And Jinsoul?”

“Here.” She took her hand. 

Her smile grew. “I hope we’re not gonna be doing this again.” 

Something tightened in her chest at that. It wasn’t pain, but something very close to it. 

“What happened?” Jungeun asked. “I’m not cold anymore.” Her voice was full of relief. 

I tried to save you, Jinsoul thought. Nothing worked. “Hyejoo took the darkness.” Without her, you’d be dead. She squeezed Jungeun’s hand, fighting her own tears. 

“And then we gave you the light you’d lost,” Yerim said. 

Jungeun’s eyes fluttered open. They were red again. They also weren’t dim anymore. 

Those eyes found hers and Jinsoul felt at ease again. 

But Jungeun frowned. She turned to face her fully. “What happened?” She touched her cheek.” You’re cold.”

“We swapped places?” Jinsoul suggested. 

The furrow in her brow was back. “You drained yourself.” 

“She’ll be alright,” Nuala said. “You both will. If neither of you,” she looked to Yerim then, “well, all three  of you, take this time to not exert yourselves. At all.” 

“Why me?” Yerim’s brow shot up. “I’m much better.”

“You still can’t summon any light,” the elder healer replied. “And even when it returns, you’ll still need the time to recover. And we also need to know why you haven’t been able to use the light until now.”

Yerim looked like she was about to pout, but she nodded. 

Jinsoul felt a burst of gratitude for Nuala. She hadn’t necessarily ever been a warm person. Hardly ever, no matter how long you’d known her for. 

But she was undoubtedly a good person. She was like so many of the people Jinsoul respected and admired. 

“I believe that’s all settled now,” Nuala sighed, “I’m going to get some much needed sleep.” She nodded at Jungeun. “You’ll be able to sleep in an hour.” Then she was gone. 

“Yerim,” Jungeun called then. She had her arms out. 

The girl in question climbed onto the bed and sank into them, closing her eyes as she did. 

“This’s the third time you’ve scared me.” Yerim’s voice was muffled. “Save the fourth for a hundred years from now. Or never.” A pause. “I like that more.”

“Me too,” Jinsoul said. She pressed a kiss to the top of Yerim’s head. Then she joined the hug. She kissed Jungeun’s temple as well. 

She wanted to say more, but if anyone else was awake, they’d hear it. She wanted to keep that sort of thing for just the three of them. 

“Like she said, you two should sleep,” Jungeun said. “You both look exhausted.” Something very close to guilt flashed across her eyes. 

“Don’t start thinking like that,” Jinsoul whispered. 

She looked at her, the light in her eyes wasn’t a flicker anymore, but had taken them up completely. Jinsoul felt a familiar warmth just seeing them. 

“I will if you will,” Jungeun muttered. 

Jinsoul didn’t reply. 

“Now sleep.” Jungeun pulled them both back as she laid down. “Or else I’ll start tying the two of you down.” 

______

Even when the hour passed, Jungeun didn’t fall asleep. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to be dropped into another nightmare. 

Especially not when she was in a dream now. She was warm again. It didn’t hurt anymore. Even her actual injuries weren’t that bad. She felt better. 

On her right, Yerim stirred, shifting slightly. Jungeun had meant it, Yerim really did look tired. 

Jungeun wondered if she’d dreamt about what’d been happening to her. Things like those fights, or whatever else she’d seen in the town, would’ve had an effect on her. 

She sighed. They’d have to talk about that. She at least had to ask her about it, letting Yerim know that Jungeun had some idea about what was going through—that she could talk to her about it. 

An arm slipped around her waist. The touch sent a slight shiver through her. 

“Can’t sleep?” Jinsoul asked, voice barely a whisper. 

“Not yet,” Jungeun replied. She was still unsettled by the darkness that clung to Jinsoul. It’d once been hers. And Jinsoul had given away so much of her light. For her. 

“Want to try a bit of that draught again?” She lifted her head. Her eyes were bright, but dimmer then normal. 

“I’ll manage.” Jungeun shook her head. She wouldn’t risk falling into that false sense of comfort again, one where she didn’t dream at all. 

“Okay.” Jinsoul rested her head on Jungeun’s chest, looking up at her. Her eyes were searching. Jungeun had no idea what she was looking for. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Good,” she said. She meant that too. “Really good. 

Jinsoul smiled. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.” Her arm around Jungeun tightened, pulling her a bit closer. “And for you to mean it.”

She brushed a hand through Jinsoul’s hair. “What about you?” Before she could answer, Jungeun added, “be honest.”

Jinsoul sighed. After a long moment, she finally said, “I’m cold.” 

Jungeun let her skin warm. 

“Keep it like this,” Jinsoul said. “Don’t even try to use your light.” 

“Okay.” She pulled the other elf closer. “I’m sorry I scared you again.” 

Her brow arched up. “I told you, that’s not where your head should be going.” 

“But it was still me who got the light,” Jungeun said. “And it’s not as if you’re getting an apology from Maven or Alluin. Maybe Hanna, if you pushed it.”

Jinsoul shook her head. “That’s not my point. I—” She broke off. “I didn’t know if you’d open your eyes.” A haunted expression appeared then. 

Jungeun felt the echo of that fear. “But I did.” 

“I know.” She looked away. 

“And Yerim and Hyunjin are healed,” she continued. “Hyejoo’s here. The others will heal. You’ll be warm too.” She pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll be okay.”

“I know.” Jinsoul’s eyes were glassier than normal. 

Jungeun rubbed her back. “You can tell me about it,” she said. “You can tell me everything.” 

“Not today,” she mumbled. “Tonight maybe, or tomorrow.” 

She nodded. “Then what can I do?” 

“You don’t have to do anything,” she settled her head on Jungeun’s shoulder, “I just need to know you’re here.”

Jungeun felt a lump form in . She barely knew anything about what Jinsoul had gone through—the waves of fear, uncertainty, and a relief that’d been cut short. All because of the changes in the moon, in the spirits, and in the darkness. And some of it was because of Jungeun. 

“I’m staying here,” she replied. 

Jinsoul hummed, the exhaustion clearly taking hold again. “Good.” 

Seconds passed as the tension in Jinsoul eased, her eyes drooping, opening every now and then. Then they finally fluttered shut. Her grip didn’t loosen, but her breathing slowed.

Jungeun didn’t mind it, but she thought about all of the conversations they hadn’t had yet. It wasn’t even the obvious one, but others, like finding out if Jinsoul was even managing the burdens of healing so many. How she actually felt about Jiwoo being there for Yerim when she hadn’t been there for Hyejoo. Jungeun didn’t even know how she really felt about Yerim’s sight. They hadn’t been able to talk without something else looming over their heads. 

She looked to the two girls at her side. Two people she’d protect with her life. Two people who’d been terrified she’d never wake up again. 

Jungeun’s heart felt heavy. She’d made a promise to be in both their lives more already. She hadn’t fulfilled it. She’d nearly died instead. Twice. 

It shouldn’t have mattered. Jungeun had lost count of the times she’d nearly gotten herself killed. 

But what was so different now was that there were more people around her who cared. More people who worried. 

If Jungeun died, she’d be leaving the lives of others. She didn’t know what to feel about that fact. She had a place in their lives. She was important. 

Too important. 

Jungeun closed her eyes. She couldn’t think about this now. There was so much more happening. So much they needed to prepare for. And there were still the conversations waiting to be had—problems she had to try and resolve. 

The rest of her life could wait until everything else was solved. 

______

Author's Note

At one point while writing this, I reread a few of the chapters and saw there were a few chapters. If there are some here as well, I apologise. Uni has been really piling on and one of the things I've got for homework is to learn the many bones of the body (which is coming along very slowly). 

Regardless of that, this chapter is one of the longer ones, because I wasn't going to leave any of you with a cliffhanger. The problem of the darkness within Jungeun has been here since chapter 14 and Hyejoo finally came back to take it away. In this story, there's a lot of milestones to be had. This is one of the bigger ones, but we're not yet finished. 

I'd be lying if I said I expected this story to be short, partially because we follow 12 different characters and I think I'm incapable of keeping things short (though I do hope to write a oneshot one day). However, I really hope you're enjoying the path we've been taking. I absolutely love it, because this is a world I've spent a really long time in, but also because I adore the characters. 

And here's a potentially shamless plug for a Lipsoul prequel to TLotL. I promise you don't need to read, but if you want to know more about where these two began, you might enjoy it. 

If you have any thoughts on the story, I'd love to hear them! Your support for this story, in whatever form it is, has made writing this story even better for me. So thank you very much for that :D 

Side-note, I'm so excited for Loona's comeback...might've splurged a tad and gotten a ticket to the online concert. 

Hope you're all doing well. See you next chapter!