“Why’d you also go?” Priad asked. He’d asked her to walk with him. She’d nearly refused, but he’d looked serious for a change. Hesitant too. 

“She got hurt because of me,” Heejin said. 

He frowned. “She’d already had too much darkness.” 

She knew then he was trying to reassure her. Even if he wasn't seeing what'd actually happened. 

“But we all contributed to it,” Heejin said, keeping her voice gentle. “And I was the angriest there.” 

“Why?” 

“Why?” she repeated. Did he really not get it? “No one ever cared about what happened to Hyejoo until they thought she was a threat. No one ever stopped to think that maybe we’d dug our own graves for this.” 

His brow furrowed. “You think this’s our fault?” 

“Yes,” Heejin said. “The person who wants to destroy us was banished. The person who can help us was also banished. She almost didn’t because she knew how we’d treat her.” She forced herself to look him in the eyes. She didn’t feel a tug forward. She’d stopped feeling that a long time ago. 

“You’re saying that like they’re not dangerous.” Priad frowned. “How many people have had their lives put in danger, or taken away, because of that darkness?” His eyes flicked between hers. “Jungeun was almost killed by Alluin’s darkness and his followers. Hyunjin was attacked by that spirit, because she’d cleansed that mortal’s house of the murder.” 

Heejin hated how he’d said that, but she didn’t snap. He was right. In part. 

“But that wasn’t Hyejoo.” 

The frown faded. “She hates us. So does he.” 

“She hates some of us,” Heejin threw back. “And do you think she would’ve healed Kolina if she wanted us gone?” 

She was close to stopping this conversation then and there. All it was doing was making her angry again. It made her feel sick, that she couldn’t keep herself calm. 

“Well she’s staying,” Priad said, a hint of irritation in his voice. “I’m not going to oppose that.” 

How noble, Heejin thought. She didn’t say it aloud. 

“But that’s not why I’m here,” he muttered. The fight had left him. “I know why you went with them. Why you really went.”

She didn’t say anything to that either, but she had a good idea what it was. She braced herself for what would happen next. 

“You love her.” Priad closed his eyes. “I’m not an idiot, Heejin, I know you never wanted this.” 

It was what she’d expected. She couldn’t say anything. Not when it was true. Not when he sounded like this. 

And definitely not when she started to feel what he was feeling: disappointment and heartbreak. 

“And I know you tried,” he muttered. “When I didn’t have to, you were trying so hard and it hurt.” 

Heejin nearly got defensive, but she held back. Priad had never told her what he’d thought of the bond. Neither had she, but she hadn’t been subtle about what she’d felt. 

“Because when the person you’re bonded to doesn’t want you, that hurts.” He opened his eyes. “And when it’s painful for them to kiss you—to even try and love you, that’s the worst part.” He looked away. “But I didn’t stop hoping it’d end up working.” 

She wanted to tell him that this hadn’t been a choice for her. She knew then how unfair the bond had really been. To the both of them. 

“I know you couldn’t help it,” Priad continued. “And I’m not asking you to try again.” He scoffed. “I know that’d probably make you hate me more.” 

“I don’t hate you,” Heejin said. “You didn’t make the bond either.” IEven though she knew he’d wanted the bond. That made her heart sink. 

“We can announce that we reject the bond,” he said quietly. “It won’t be the first time.” 

Heejin laughed. “Just the third time in a thousand years.” 

He smiled slightly. Heejin saw how much effort that was taking. 

“I don’t want a gathering for it.” She thought of the anguish in Hyunjin’s eyes. That she’d had to see that unfold, completely unaware of what would’ve been happening, before shutting herself off. “But you can blame me for it, since it’s the truth.” 

Priad shook his head. “We both decided we didn't agree with it,” he said. “That’s also true.”

Heejin felt a small burst of warmth. If things hadn’t been ruined by the bond, they could’ve been close friends. They had been friends. They were friends, but she knew she wouldn’t be talking to him like this for a while. It’d be more for him than for her. She wasn’t sure if acting like things were normal would hurt him. 

And she didn’t want to hurt him anymore than she already had. 

“Thank you,” Heejin said. “I’m sorry.”

“Wasn’t your fault.” 

“Not about that,” she looked at her hands, “I was selfish.” 

“So was I,” he shrugged, “you could’ve told me outright you didn’t want it, but I could’ve seen that sooner. I should’ve accepted it sooner.” He got to his feet. “But neither of us did that.” 

“Now we did,” Heejin said. “Or,” she hesitated, “you did.” She also stood. 

“I was terrified to have this conversation.” He rubbed his hands together. 

“Really?” 

Priad laughed slightly. “You’re intimidating when you want to be.” 

Heejin could only smile. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” he turned back to camp, “we all had to learn how to do that.” A pause. "Be strong," he sighed, "face all," a pause, "that."

The words reminded her that they’d been able to talk easier before, complaining about their duties, about being given responsibilities they didn’t want. Maybe they’d be able to do that. 

In a few years at least. 

The walk back to camp was quiet, a bit awkward, but far from terrible. 

And when Heejin saw the others by the fire, she said a proper good day to Priad, managing a genuine smile. 

He returned it. 

It wasn’t anything huge, but it was better than before. She hoped it was for him. 

She didn't know what this meant for her now. Or Hyunjin. It should've been wonderful news, but she couldn't help but think that it wouldn't change. Hyunjin had spent years denying that, trying to rid herself from it. She'd been ready to lose a part of herself just to stop feeling what she had. A part of Heejin was terrified that time had succeeded in doing that, at least part of the way. Hyunjin didn't look at her like she used to. Even when they were alone, even when Hyunjin wasn't distracted by the reality of the bond, she hadn't truly opened up to Heejin as she had before. 

No, what had happened now, it only meant that Priad knew the truth. He'd accepted it to, at least to an extent. They were both free of the bond too, or allowed to act against it. Heejin had rejected it since it'd been revealed to her. Had she been able to go against it completely, she would have. She'd not considered Priad in all those years. Not really. 

Had she considered Hyunjin? Genuinely considered what she'd been feeling? Heejin hadn't even known the lengths she'd gone to before. She'd only seen Hyunjin leave and come back. She'd only heard brief accounts of what had happened in those years. She hadn't know that Hyunjin had wanted to give up a piece of herself to sever her ties to Heejin. She hadn't known that Hyunjin had sought out others to love. 

A pit formed in her stomach. She'd missed so much. All she'd done was lash out, harbour resentment. And now she'd apologised to Priad. That wasn't enough, but she didn't know what else to do. 

And now she didn't know what she'd say to Hyunjin. She didn't know how she'd react. They'd spent most of their lives together. She was supposed to know that.

She didn't. 

______

Hyunjin couldn’t stop shivering. This cold was almost worse than what she’d had before. 

Before. How hadn’t she realised that sooner? Why hadn’t she questioned how she was still alive? Why hadn’t anyone else? 

She tried to find the light in herself. Nothing. 

But she could see her fear. It was dark grey. It lingered in front of , as if every breath was going to take more of it in. 

Hyunjin nearly screamed. She wanted to break something. She wanted a fight. 

She wanted her light back. 

And she’d lost it. Her magic had never been suppressed. It’d vanished. 

He’d been right. He’d seen it before, just ten years before Hyejoo had gotten the darkness. 

“I heard about the bond you lost.” The voice had come out of nowhere. 

Hyunjin nearly rammed a stake through his mouth. It was already in her hand, but something held her back, some sort of force on her arm. It felt cold, but not freezing. It was almost comforting. 

The man raised his hands. “It was a public announcement. And I know you care for someone greatly. As did I.” His eyes were so dark they seemed to have been filled with shadows. He was tall and there was notable scarring around his neck. Those scars were from the light they’d used to trap him many years ago. This was Alluin. 

The grip on her arm loosened. He’d taken hold of her shadow. 

He’d approached her during one of her hunting sprees. She hadn’t known his face, but the other things had been enough. That he hadn’t hurt or killed her then had been lucky in and of itself. He could’ve done it so easily. 

He’d told her that the moon was supposed to allow for changes in fate, that it should’ve allowed people to refuse their initial partner and be bound to someone else instead. Someone they truly loved. He'd known exactly how to get to her. He'd done it easily, but she'd been an easy target. She still was. 

“That has nothing to do with me.” Hyunjin turned away. Even when not looking, she felt drawn to him. She knew his story, enough to feel sympathy and guilt for actions that weren’t her own. Still, she also knew enough to be nervous. 

And being drawn in by that magic—it bothered her more than a spirit ever could. 

“It might,” Alluin replied. “Did you love them?”

Hyunjin was about to summon her light again, when a dark sword appeared in the air. 

“I’m only here to talk.” The blade disappeared. The message was clear: she stood little chance in a fight. “My bond vanished when the magic came. What if yours never formed?”

She shook her head. “I have the light, I’m not like you.” Hyejoo was, but she didn’t have the darkness. From what she’d heard from her parents, Alluin had been very different to Hyejoo too. He’d always leaned more towards the greyer parts of the light, while being followed by shadows. 

“Perhaps,” he said, drawing out the word. “But I can sense those like me. There’re some still among the Astra, but I’ve found others outside of it too, mirrors to your elementals.” 

It bothered Hyunjin how much he knew. Had he used the witches they worked with? Approached elves and fairies who’d been in their camp? Had he tried to approach Hyejoo? Were there more people sympathetic to him? 

Did he want her to be one of them? That was what this was. It had to be. 

“I won’t hurt the others you’re with,” Alluin said. “You weren’t even born when tehy me. The others were too young.” He gave her a surprisingly warm smile. “But just know, we will always have space in our home. Even if you’ll always have the light.” 

He walked away, melting into the shadows with each step. 

The sense of familiarity didn’t fade. Until then, Hyunjin hadn’t ever felt it before. 

She had felt it again. After Hyejoo’s banishment, but not in that moment. She’d been scared for Hyejoo, too scared to do anything, but watch. The closest she’d come to thinking about that night was the terror she’d felt that the others would try to help Hyejoo—and then become outsiders like her family had. 

She hadn’t felt it in that mortal’s desecrated home, but the darkness had come to her so easily. That should’ve been the first sign. Taking so much at once hadn’t felt like a risk, but for any other it would have. 

The next sign had been after Hyejoo had healed her. Hyunjin hadn’t taken in any of the darkness, but when she’d had her in her arms, she’d felt a burst of familiarity. It hadn’t just been from greeting an old friend. 

“What happened?” Yeojin was there, orange eyes slowly filling with concern. 

Hyunjin shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. Knowing she wouldn’t buy that, she added, “just—just got caught up in all,” she waved at the camp, “this.”

She nodded once, expression softening. “Are you okay?” 

“Really tired.” Hyunjin forced a laugh. 

“I feel like all of you are,” Yeojin frowned, “Yerim’s been sleeping worse, I think. She wasn’t before, even when that spirit got her. She looks really tired now.”

Hyunjin thought of how the air had chilled, how Yerim’s eyes had filled with darkness. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her expression softened. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You wouldn’t understand, she wanted to say. She didn’t. Maybe Yeojin would have, or she wouldn’t have. Either way, Hyunjin didn’t want to risk saying anything hurtful now. “I know,” she smiled, “but I think I just need some sleep.”

Yeojin let her walk away. 

Hyunjin had no idea how Yerim would be able to come back without raising countless questions. And would they even let her come back? 

If they sent her away, she could see Jungeun and Jinsoul immediately following, regardless of the responsibilities they bore for the Astra. They’d never leave Yerim to fend for herself, no matter the risk of not being able to come back at all. 

And what would happen when people realised Hyunjin had lost her magic? 

Everyone had become more paranoid, more afraid. For good reason too. They’d lost people and come painfully close to others. Hyejoo was their chance to escape that, but Alluin was the chance that they’d lose even more. 

What would happen if Yerim was another person who could wield the darkness? What would happen if Hyunjin became that too?

And what if that was inevitable? What if one day the dankness would take hold of her like it had Hyejoo? What if she couldn’t handle it? Hyejoo had been able to bear it. She knew Yerim would too, but could Hyunjin? She’d been greatly affected by the darkness—what if she actually lost herself to it? 

It was rare, but sometimes people went berserk if they’d gotten too much. They needed to be tied down, or even killed, if their mind was too far gone. 

But even then, that was probably unlikely. The chances were that she’d be like Hyejoo and Yerim. 

The realisation came over her then. Wouldn’t that be better? 

What would happen to Yerim if Hyejoo left? Would she go with her or try to stay? And even if she didn’t go with her, wouldn’t it be better if Hyunjin left as well? Either with Hyejoo, or both of them? 

Yes. The thought was immediate. With light or without it, Hyejoo being out there alone again would be worse than either Hyunjin or Yerim leaving. Hyunjin couldn’t let that happen. 

As she walked through the camp, she saw Heejin sitting with Haseul and Vivi. Heejin looked surprisingly at ease. Hyunjin immediately looked away. 

Alluin had been right about the darkness. What if he’d been right about the bond too? What if that’d been set in time? That Hyunjin would eventually lose her light? Was that saving Heejin the pain of losing the bond? Or was this just how fate was supposed to work?  

______

“You’re already here?” Haseul asked. She let the flap of the tent fall back behind her. 

Yeojin shook her head. “Just needed a little time alone.” It wasn’t said with an edge. That was at least a relief. “Is Hyunjin okay?” 

“I think so,” she said. “Does she seem off to you?”

“Still better than before,” Yeojin replied. “But I just saw her and she seemed a little nervous.”

“Might still be from what happened,” Haseul sighed, “I can count on my hand the number of times someone’s been attacked inside of the camp.”

Yeojin nodded once, a distant look making its way into her eyes. It was familiar. 

She was thinking about Hyejoo, how she was another person who’d been hurt in the camp. 

“This’ll be the worst thing I’ve asked you in a while,” Haseul started, “but how are you?”

Yeojin snorted. “You’re right,” her eyes sparkled a bit more, “but I’m better.” Her expression softened. “A lot of what you told me,” she pursed her lips, “I think I’m starting to get it now.”

She thought back to that talk they’d had. It felt like so long ago, but it can’t have been more than a month. Maybe even just a few weeks. Yeojin had known all this time about what Haseul had done to Chaewon and the others. She'd agreed with it. At least back then. 

They hadn’t gotten to go on that patrol she'd promised her. Haseul had been there when the elders had extensively asked Dahyun about the darkness. Soon after, Jungeun had been attacked. 

The one thing she’s been wanting is for something she does to matter.

Haseul was still frustrated that Vivi was right in the first place. She wanted to say it wasn’t her fault, but it was. It hadn’t been intentional, but the responsibility for Yeojin had fallen to her early on. She’d tried to do what she could, but she hadn’t always been there. She definitely hadn’t always done the right thing. 

“I actually needed to ask you something,” Haseul said. 

Yeojin looked surprised, but nodded. 

“I was,” she paused, “well, Vivi and I are leaving soon.” 

“What?” Her brow furrowed. 

“We’re going to try and find out more about Alluin’s people,” Haseul told her. “Do you want to come?” 

Yeojin’s jaw dropped. “You’re serious?” Hope flooded her expression. 

Haseul felt guilty for only seeing something like that now. 

“What about the others?” Yeojin asked, a frown appearing. “I’m the last person you’d take on this, right?”

“Not the last, but you’d not have been the first person,” she admitted. “I still think it could be too dangerous, but Vivi says you’re ready. I think she’s right.”

Her brow rose. “You think someone else’s right?”

Haseul pinched her arm. “It’s not the first time!”

“Just one of them,” she cackled, before growing more serious. “I get it.” A pause. “Do you have to hear my answer?” 

Haseul smiled and shook her head. 

“Do you know where to start?”

“I already went to Doyeon,” Haseul said. “But we’ll have to go a second time. Then I’ve got a route we’ll take.” 

“You don’t think they’re waiting for that?” Yeojin asked. 

“Waiting for what?”

“Seul,” she gave her a look, “they were either going to get Jungeun on their side or kill her.” She closed her eyes, before letting out a short breath. “You’re on that list too. They get their chance, they’ll come for you.”

“And we’d have to be ready for that,” Haseul replied. “I’m actually counting on them coming after us.”

Yeojin looked at her for a long moment, stunned. 

“That’s why there’s just three of us. And also why no one’s going to know why we’re actually going.” 

“Hyunjin or Jungeun would try to come with us.”

“Soul wouldn’t even let Jungeun go,” Haseul added. “And Heejin would drag Hyun back.”

Yeojin laughed, but then turned serious again. “And why not Hyejoo?”

“I’m not making her turn against those people,” she said. “Not more than she already has.” 

“Good,” Yeojin nodded, “she was relieved that we let Hanna live.” 

Another reason why Haseul needed to find out more about this group. She didn’t know if she could ask Hyejoo about them. Was that crossing a line? Probably. 

But how else would she know who to give a chance, and who not to? Yes, she’d search the light and maybe she’d find something. She’d also seen enough genuine evil in the world to know when she saw it, but she’d seen that in allies too. 

Just saying that, there might’ve been just as much reason to spare Alluin as there was to kill him. 

“Hey,” Yeojin took her hand, “this isn’t gonna be the first time we talk this through.” She gave her a small smile. “When did you want to leave?”

Haseul was stuck between being surprised at what she said and touched by the simple gesture of letting them move on from it. Even if only for a little bit. 

“I still need some time to work things out. Maybe I’ll get to asking Hyejoo about Alluin, but I don’t know yet.” 

“Hyunjin knew about him too,” Yeojin said. “Remember?”

Haseul tried to wrack her head for that. She couldn’t. 

“After Jungeun and Yerim were attacked. The first time,” she grimaced, “and then she told us about him, what it was like before.” 

Haseul had learned some things, but they’d probably been biased. Between what the elders had admitted and what Hyojung and the others had said, she didn’t know which was more accurate. 

“I’ll ask her about it too,” Haseul nodded, “or,” she trailed off. 

“You think Hyunjin’ll tell me more than that?” Yeojin’s eyes were filled with disbelief. “I need her in a good mood for that.”

“Or anything else,” she shrugged, “we just need to find out as much as we can.”

“So you’ll let them ambush you,” Yeojin said slowly, “but you’ll wait until someone tells us what type of people they are?”

Haseul nodded. Then she got to her feet. “We’ll be prepared.”

“Wait,” she stood with her, “I’m gonna thank Vivi too, because she’s the one who actually got through that massive shell of yours.” She smiled slightly. “But thanks, Seul. I mean it.”

Haseul felt a lump in . “You really should thank Viian,” she said. “I’m just doing what I should’ve done years ago.”

“Which is?” 

Haseul didn’t know how to say that. Shelter her? Yeojin was already doing what she wanted. Haseul had tried, but failed, to stop her most of the time. Protect her? Same thing. 

Then Yeojin hugged her. “You’re annoying and overbearing,” she muttered, “but you did what you thought was right.” She tightened her grip. “And you usually were. Like when I almost got—” She stopped talking. 

“Almost what?” Haseul leaned away to look down at her, but she didn’t pull away. She was very close to crying. She already couldn’t hide her relief. 

“Nevermind!” She looked away. Then after a few seconds. “I might’ve gotten attacked by a vampire,” she mumbled. “Remember when I was sick last year?” 

That sank in. “You got bitten.”

Yeojin looked sheepish. 

Haseul sighed and pulled her closer again. “Do I want to know about the rest?”

“In a few years, definitely.” Yeojin said, sounding more than a bit too excited about it. 

______

Hyunjin stared at the shadows. The more she was aware of just how vast they were, as well as how far the darkness reached, the more she became aware of how they surrounded her—how they leaned towards her when she passed. 

This couldn’t be. She couldn’t be a part of that. It should’ve been impossible, but she needed to stop thinking that way. It was possible. It’d happened to Alluin, before she’d even been born. It’d happened to Hyejoo too, then Yerim. 

And now her. The only difference was that she’d always had her light. Except for now. 

No, Hyunjin was powerless now. She’d lost her magic too. 

All she had was what was right in front of her. 

She held out a hand, placing it on the shadow left by the moonlight. It was her own shadow. 

She could feel her own fear, like she’d felt the gentle joy of the light before. 

It wasn’t just fear. Hyunjin looked further. She could feel the distant grief for her family, the loss she still felt whenever she saw Heejin. 

But there was something else there. A gentle sadness, one mixed with a brief memory of her parents smiling down at her. It was so faint. 

Hyunjin tried to pull at it. 

There was a sharp tug in her mind. She saw Alluin then, remembered what he’d told her. Then she remembered what he’d done—what he’d let others do for him. 

Cold trickles of ice ran up her her arm. 

Hyunjin gasped. The cold reached her heart, but instead of fear or anger, she just felt a deep, yet heavy calm. The chill she hadn’t been able to stand before was now bearable. 

She lifted her hand, seeing the last traces of darkness crawl up her wrist. Before they reached her elbow, they crawled into her skin. She felt that same familiarity that she had before. It was so much stronger now. 

The terrible feeling of weakness was gone. She could feel her magic again, but she knew it wasn’t what she’d had before. This was a slow moving wave, but it felt like a stronger foundation. Even though it was entirely new. 

Hyunjin put a hand to a nearby tree. In the night, everything was dark. Without the light she’d always worn on her skin, it was completely foreign to only see silhouettes around her, if even that. 

The darkness that flowed into her then held no emotion, only that strange calm. It was immense. Was it because darkness didn’t exactly end? Not until the light shone upon it. 

Hyunjin felt even stronger then. Awake, but not completely energised. The fatigue had just fallen away, no new energy had come. 

She could trace where the shadows were stronger. The more she concentrated, the further it went. Was that how she’d be able to see in the dark? Or not? 

Then she heard someone—no, sensed someone approaching. There were some shadows, but the light was stronger. Seeing it was blinding. 

Hyunjin hissed and looked away. 

“Hyun?” It was Heejin. 

No. She couldn’t be here. Hyunjin nearly ran. 

She stopped her feet from taking any more steps. Running away from Heejin would be ridiculous. It’d hurt her too. She couldn’t do that. 

“Here,” she tore her eyes away from the darkness, “I’m fine.”

Heejin was glowing. 

Hyunjin expected to feel her skin crawl as she came closer. It didn’t. The only thing that was even slightly uncomfortable was how bright she was. That and her dread at what Heejin would think of her now. 

She saw the moment Heejin actually looked at her. 

Her eyes widened. For a moment, Hyunjin wondered if she’d actually run. 

Then Heejin stumbled over to her. “What happened? Are you okay?” She stopped glowing. Her hands went to Hyunjin’s. Her skin was so much warmer. “Do we have to go to Jinsoul?”

She looked worried, but she wasn’t scared. That comforted Hyunjin more than anything. 

Hyunjin shook her head. “I’m okay,” she told her. Carefully, she pulled her hands away. She saw the flicker of hurt then. “I don’t know if it’s safe for you to do that.” Jinsoul had accidentally gotten darkness while healing Jungeun. She was fine now, but only Hyejoo had been able to get it out. 

Her brow furrowed. “No one else is here. I checked.”

“That’s not what I meant. I could hurt you.”

The confusion didn’t fade. “You could never—”

“I lost my light,” Hyunjin continued. “Because of what happened. I thought it’d come back. The same thing happened to Yerim, but we went to Hyejoo and,” she hoped she wasn’t making a mistake telling her, “we realised it wasn’t coming back.”

“But your eyes didn’t change before,” Heejin said. Then her eyes glazed over slightly. “And you still have some light, Hyun. I see it.”

That was surprising. She hadn’t been able to sense that in herself. 

“I didn’t have any magic before.” Hyunjin looked at her hands. “I do now.”

Briefly, she debated telling her that their circumstances might not have been random—that it might’ve been meant to happen. 

She didn’t. Heejin had had too much to do with fate already. Maybe she’d tell her another time—if she was still allowed to be around the Astra. 

“I won’t let them send you away.” Heejin’s eyes shone brightly. It was almost difficult to look into them. “Either they’ve accepted that the darkness isn’t dangerous, or I’ll make them see that.”

Hyunjin smiled. It didn’t feel like a chore. “I have to go back to the other two first.”

“They don’t know?” 

She shook her head again. “I didn’t want that change. At first.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Heejin said immediately. “All that changed was your magic and your eyes.”

“My eyes?” When she focused on them, they did feel a bit colder. 

She pointed at her right cheek. “It turned grey.” Her hand cupped Hyunjin’s face then. “It might take a little time to get used to that.”

“Careful,” Hyunjin put a hand over hers,” what if you get some of it?” She started to take her hand away. 

“You don’t know that,” Heejin said. “It didn’t overwhelm you when you got it. And I haven’t hurt you, right?” Concern flooded her expression. 

“No,” she said immediately. “You’re just really bright. Warm too.”

“And you’re cold.”

Hyunjin chuckled. “Thanks.”

She gave her a look. “But I’m serious, if this was like the malevolent spirits, even being close to you would feel wrong. It doesn’t, like with the other kind, Hyejoo too. This’s fine.” She gave her a warm smile. 

Hyunjin felt a wave of relief then. This hadn’t been her biggest fear, but it had been one of them. And now it’d vanished. Heejin wasn’t afraid of her. She was still here. 

She pulled her into a hug. 

Heejin made a small sound of surprise. Then her arms wrapped around Hyunjin as well. 

“Thank you, Heekie,” she whispered. “I don’t know why this happened, but,” she trailed off. 

“I’m here,” Heejin said softly.

“I know.” She pulled away. Her breath caught when Heejin met her gaze again. 

Sparkling pink eyes looked up at her. Hyunjin knew that look, even after all this time. 

She looked away then. She had too. 

Hyunjin could feel her disappointment. Another reminder that, whatever had happened before, the moon hadn’t ever meant for it to happen—let alone continue. 

Hyunjin pulled away. “I’ll go tell them,” she said. “I don’t know when I’ll come back to camp. Maybe we’ll tell them, and then see what happens. I don’t know yet.”

Heejin’s frown reappeared. “I’ll go with you. We can figure something out.” 

”No,” she started to walk in the direction she’d come, “until we know what they’ll say, you can’t be seen with us.” With me. 

“Since when?" Heejin walked into her path. “You can’t tell me to just sit and wait. Hyejoo just came back. And I know our people. I can help you figure out a plan.”

“And if it goes wrong?” Hyunjin asked. “They banish us and everyone remembers you tried to help? They’ll never make you an elder. You’ll be an outcast.” Like her parents had been. Outsiders in their own home. “Don’t risk that for this.”

“For this?” Heejin repeated. The shadow of anger drew over her light. Hyunjin could feel it a lot more than before. “For my friends? To stop another banishment?” 

“You won’t be able to stop it,” she shot back. “You couldn’t then, you won’t be able to now.” As soon as she said those words, she regretted them. She didn’t take them back. She needed Heejin to listen to her. 

Hurt filled her gaze. “It’s different this time,” she said quietly. The anger had vanished in a heartbeat. “Hyejoo’s been helping us. You’ll be able to help too. You just have to learn how.” 

“They won’t care about that,” Hyunjin said. “They still don’t want her here. Once this’s all over, they’ll send her away. Yerim and me wi’ll be along with her, I bet.”

Heejin winced. “I won’t let that happen.”

“You’ll try,” Hyunjin said. “I know you will, but you can’t. We need you as an elder, just like we need Haseul there.” She reached for her hand this time. The skin was a bit colder now. “Helping us now won’t work. You can’t sacrifice all the respect you’ve got, everything you’ve done, for us.” 

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“I know that!” Hyunjin moved away, wondering how much control she had over the darkness. She wouldn’t risk not having enough. Luckily, no darkness had come to the surface of her skin. Not even with the flare of irritation. “I told you it was wrong to even be around me after your bond was revealed. You never listened. If they found out that—”

“Priad knows,” Heejin whispered. 

Hyunjin felt cold. “What?” 

“He knows I love you and he won't say anything."

“Did you tell him?” What if Heejin had already crossed the line? What if even being around Hyunjin now would ruin everything Heejin had been preparing for? 

“He figured it out.” Heejin held up her hands. “It’s not like it’s hard.” Then her gaze softened. “I trust him, Hyun. He won’t tell anyone why. And if I asked, he’d tell the elders he won’t be pursuing the bond. It’ll be alright.”

Maybe it would, but Hyunjin couldn’t feel the same relief she should have felt. “You still can’t love me,” she said quietly. “You were never meant to.” 

Heejin’s eyes widened. Shock appeared first, then confusion, followed by something else that forced Hyunjin to look away. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her voice trembled. “You don’t—you can’t—”

Hyunjin needed to tell her. “Alluin came to me a few years ago, when I first left. He knew what would happen later. He knew my magic would change.” That I would change. 

“What does that have to do with us?” Heejin asked. “Your magic changing doesn’t affect us.” 

“It does,” she said. “Heejin, we’re not—this isn’t what’s supposed to happen. My magic was meant to change, you were bound to someone else. I’m not meant to be here.” Just like the people who’d been chosen by the moon later in life and called to be here. Jinsoul, Jungeun, and Yerim were meant to find each other. They could’ve stayed or gone back to their people, but no one had. 

And the light was very different to the darkness. There wasn’t the choice to stay or leave. Even Yerim's place here wasn't as steadfast as it had been. She hoped for her sake that she'd be able to stay. 

“How can you know that?” Heejin asked. “You’re saying Hyejoo never belonged here?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re like her, so is Yerim,” she said. “Are they outsiders too?”

“For a time, Yerim was, Hyejoo almost was,” Hyunjin nodded, “Alluin was one of the first. They sent him away, my family tried to help him, and you know what happened after.”

“That won’t happen,” Heejin looked away from her, “it won’t.” There was no waiver in her voice. 

Something in her heart warmed at that, but she didn’t want Heejin getting more involved than she already was. Hyunjin wasn’t sure if she’d already missed the point where Heejin could’ve still been convinced to walk away. 

“It might,” Hyunjin said. “And I don’t need you fighting for me. The others don’t either.” She sighed. “And if they truly want us out, I won’t want to stay even if we manage to argue the other way.” No, she wouldn’t force Hyejoo and Yerim to stay here, made outsiders again just for their magic. If they wanted to try to live among the Astra, then she’d stay as well. If they chose to go—

“You’d leave?” Heejin’s voice had softened, but she sounded fragile. 

That meant Hyunjin’s next words had the potential to hurt her. There were too many words that could do that and too few that could make any of this better. Most of the words that would comfort her would be lies. 

So Hyunjin only nodded. 

Something cracked in her gaze. It broke Hyunjin’s heart. 

“Y-you,” Heejin stammered. “Hyun?” Tears began to appear. 

Hyunjin pulled her into her arms again. Heejin clutched at her front. Tears soaked into her clothes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But I won’t stay just for them to be afraid of me. Not if I can avoid it.” There were other reasons, but to list them wouldn't bring them anywhere. They'd just be more points Heejin would try to refute, or reassure. 

“I’m not asking you to,” she mumbled. “But you’d have people who wouldn’t be. You’d still have us.” A short breath. “You’ll always have me.”

Hyunjin almost denied that, but she held back. Heejin breaking down now—that would be cruel. 

“It’d be okay. We’d be somewhere you could find us,” Hyunjin said. “Because Jinsoul and Jungeun wouldn’t hunt us down if we ever hid Yerim from them.”

A small sob-chuckle thing was the response. 

Heejin didn’t let go for a long time. “I don’t want you to go,” she whispered. “I want you to stay with me.” 

Another small rush of warmth. Hyunjin welcomed it, but she still didn’t know the reason. 

Hyunjin also didn’t know how to respond to that. Those words were what she wanted to hear, but they weren’t supposed to be said. Not now. 

“Be honest with me,” Heejin pulled away, looking up at her again, “if this hadn’t happened. If you’d still had your light, would you be staying?”

She didn’t know how to answer that either. 

“I came here, because Priad knows I love you,” she said. “He’s going to start letting me go.” Heejin blinked and wiped away the tears that still clung to her eyes. “I  can love you and that isn’t a betrayal anymore.”

That warmth remained. Hyunjin hadn’t thought she’d feel it after the darkness. 

“So what would you do?” Heejin asked. “What if they were wrong about the moon? Or what if the moon was just wrong?” Her brow knitted together. “And there wasn’t something meant to happen?”

Hyunjin looked away. “Don’t say that to me,” she shook her head, “don’t—” Don't let me hope. 

“Don’t what?” Her voice was still soft. “Have you never thought about that?” 

“Of course I did,” she said. “But it’s just a thought.” 

Heejin flinched. “Do you really mean that?”  

Hyunjin didn’t reply. 

“Hyunjin.” Her voice was careful, but not as shaky as before. 

She didn’t meet her eyes. 

“Tell me you don’t love me,” Heejin said. “Tell me that it’s you who doesn’t want me around. And then I’ll go.” There was still some tension in her words.

But when Hyunjin did look up, she saw that Heejin’s gaze was only gentle. It wasn’t vulnerable. She was hiding that vulnerability. She didn’t want Hyunjin to think she had to say what she wanted. Heejin knew that Hyunjin could easily lie now. 

And that just made it worse. It made it harder. 

“If we’re talking to each other,” Hyunjin said. “If we’re alone or with the rest, it’ll never be normal.” She held her gaze. “Especially not now. Even if he knows, even if they all know and accept that you’ve rejected the bond, that doesn’t change what’s just happened.” She pulled on a shadow, almost startled when it answered her. The darkness curled around her fingers. “That doesn’t change this.” 

She didn’t even mention what the rest might think, with her parents having known Alluin, tried to help him. What if they thought she’d gotten the darkness from him? What if they thought she was tied to him in some way, along with Hyejoo and Yerim. 

What if they were tied to him? 

“But,” Hyunjin fought a sigh, “nothing changed for me since the bond. You know that.” It felt wrong to admit that, but wasn’t that what Heejin needed to hear from her? She’d know if she was lying. 

Heejin looked at her, eyes wide. There was both hope and confusion there. Hyunjin didn’t want to take away that hope, but she also knew it wasn’t supposed to be there either. 

“I wish you’d have stopped feeling something for me,” Hyunjin said. “Then I’d have had it easier.” It would’ve been easier that day. It would’ve been better if Heejin hadn’t come to her right after the bond had been revealed. It would’ve been better if Heejin had started to hate her after she’d left. Hyunjin still wished she would’ve fallen in love with someone else while she was away. She still wished her emotions could’ve been taken away. 

But none of that had happened. She was still here, with all the emotions she'd had before, and more. She still loved Heejin. Heejin still loved her. 

Heejin was shaking her head. “It’s not that easy,” she replied. “And I don’t think it should’ve been either.”

I do, Hyunjin thought. 

Heejin’s hands were fiddling at her sides. 

She reached out and took one of them. 

The fiddling stopped. Heejin looked surprised. “I can’t tell you those things,” Hyunjin admitted. “But those what ifs,” she took a deep breath, “those questions aren’t supposed to have answers. I can’t answer them, not when—” She broke off. 

Heejin squeezed her hand lightly. She only looked at her with a gentle gaze. It was both encouraging and patient at the same time. Everything she’d been before Hyejoo’s banishment: free of the frustration, the resentment, and the anger. 

“When they told us you two were bound,” for a moment, she’d felt such hatred towards Priad, but only for a few seconds, “I couldn’t stop wishing for it to not be true—for the moon to be wrong only once.”

Heejin didn’t say anything. Again, she was letting her speak. 

Hyunjin looked at the hand she held. It was something she’d missed. She’d missed being in these quiet moments, being with someone who knew her better than anyone else. Heejin hadn’t cared then about how people had seen Hyunjin and her family. She didn’t hate her now for the darkness within Hyunjin’s heart either. 

“I love you,” Hyunjin said. “I still love you.” She tightened her grip on Heejin’s hand. It was warm. That warmth felt like it was spreading through her body, right until her head. It felt like when Dahyun had given her those emotions. It felt like when she’d given her the green and purple emotions. Happiness and love. 

Heejin’s eyes widened. It was then that Hyunjin saw the tears forming in them. 

A heaviness settled over Hyunjin’s heart. Heejin was relieved. Despite what she’d said, despite everything else, it looked like Heejin, in the back of her mind, had started to believe Hyunjin didn’t love her anymore. Hyunjin almost felt sick. Hadn’t she wanted her to feel that way?  

The realisation didn’t make her happy. It didn’t make her think she still had a chance to distance herself. She didn’t want that. Even with the changes. 

“And if the moon really was wrong, I—“ Hyunjin didn’t know how to finish that thought. What would she do? Would would any of them do? This was exactly the kind of thing Hyunjin never thought about. It was too much. There were too many consequences. Too much room to be afraid of, but also to hope. Both were things she didn't want, because so much of the time, that hope was false. 

Heejin was just looking at her, both waiting and simply gazing at her. Hyunjin saw everything she’d tried to block out. She saw how wonderfully patient Heejin was, how expressive she could be with just a look, and how she felt exactly the same. 

Hyunjin raised her other hand. She wiped away the tears that were still on Heejin’s cheek. She let her hand linger, something she hadn’t done in years. 

Heejin leaned into the touch. Hyunjin‘s chest twisted at the sight. It ached. It wasn’t like when the light had first left her. The ache held a strange warmth to it, but it was so faint. Hyunjin was almost sure she was imagining it. 

“I love you too,” Heejin murmured. 

The ache strengthened. It wasn’t a feeling she’d ever had. Her heart had hurt before, but her body had never ached like this. It wasn’t because of an injury. It was something else. 

Hyunjin suddenly felt light, in spite of the pain, in spite of everything she’d said about Heejin’s bond with someone else. Even with the darkness that’d taken hold of her, the light she saw within Heejin now wasn’t blinding. It was comforting to see. 

She found herself leaning forward. 

Then Heejin did the same. 

When they kissed, the ache strengthened, but Hyunjin didn’t want to pull away. Instead, she pulled her closer. 

Heejin hummed, her arms wrapping around Hyunjin’s shoulders, also pulling her closer. Each time they parted, one of them chased after the other, eager to close the distance again.

Hyunjin melted into her arms. How often had she dreamed of coming back to Heejin and holding her? How often had she wanted to kiss her, but held back? 

And now she was here. 

The ache slowly began to subside. 

And then Heejin deepened the kiss. 

Hyunjin felt lightheaded. Everything she felt for Heejin was getting overwhelming, but she loved it. She loved her. 

Neither of them were willing to pull away. Each breath they took was a sharp intake through the nose. 

Suddenly, every single doubt had fallen away. Every moment where she’d hesitated seemed foolish. Being here felt right. 

Hyunjin broke the kiss. 

Heejin pulled away, almost hurriedly. “Everything okay?” 

Hyunjin opened her eyes to see doubt in Heejin’s. She felt a flare of guilt. She was the reason for that. 

“Fine,” she said. “I…I shouldn’t have done that.” She didn’t let go of her. “But—” She tried to reach for the right words. They didn’t come. “I don’t regret it.” She sighed. Not the right words. 

Then the corner of Heejin’s mouth tilted up. “That’s all I needed to hear.” Her hands shifted to rest on the back of Hyunjin’s neck. She traced the skin there. It tickled, but she liked it. “Because I’ll tell you now,” she gave her a tiny smile, “I can go back to the way we were before, if that’s what you really want.”

Hyunjin couldn’t hide her surprise. “Really?” 

The resolve in her eyes didn’t fade. “Really.”

“Why?” Hyunjin believed her, but she wanted to know what had changed. It’d taken less than a day for that. At least it seemed like that. 

“I didn’t know what was happening before,” she said. “Not really.” 

“And now?” 

“I know you love me.” Heejin said it with awe in her voice, as if she still couldn’t believe it. “I wasn’t sure before.” 

Hyunjin’s jaw fell slack. “You weren’t?” 

This time, she looked away. “It seemed like it was easy for you. To leave, to stay away,” she faltered, “it felt like it was normal for you.” 

She didn’t say anything. She’d never heard any of this. They’d never spoken about it. 

“And I always thought you were trying to move on. I heard Binnie talking about you and Arin, and others you’d been with before.” Heejin’s brow had furrowed. “And I got it, I knew why, but I,” she trailed off. Then she shook her head. “I couldn’t move on from you. Time wasn’t what helped. I didn’t want to move on either.” She looked at Hyunjin then, her expression pained. “And I know that wasn’t fair, but I—you,” she cut off again. She turned away. 

Hyunjin waited. She lightly squeezed her arm. 

“No one else is like you,” Heejin said. “You know me better than anyone else,” she bit her lip, “you helped me through all those lessons, through the responsibility, you trained me even after that bond came up.” Her head lifted. Hyunjin was once again taken aback by the love in Heejin’s eyes. “But you never made allowances for what I was doing. You didn’t just let me treat Viian the way I had. You made it obvious that I was being an idiot.” She chuckled. “You always were, and still are, perfect.” She grew serious again. “No matter if there’s light or darkness in your heart.” 

“I don’t—“

“You’re perfect to me.” Heejin cupped her face. “Maybe being stubborn got you into a lot of the places you were. Maybe you were too noble and only thought of helping the other people in this, not yourself.” 

“Maybe I’m not strong enough to pursue what I want?” Hyunjin suggested. 

“Maybe.” She nodded. “But you’re strong enough to stick with your decisions. You’re strong enough to do what you have to.” Her thumb brushed across Hyunjin’s cheek, the motion slow. “Which is why whatever you want to do now, I’ll do that too.” A pause. “Even if you left.” The last word was barely a whisper. 

“But you wouldn’t want it.” 

Heejin shook her head. “You didn’t want to either.”

“But it didn’t work,” Hyunjin told her. 

“I’d try. Actually try.” Heejin looked so certain, so sure of herself. 

It stunned Hyunjin that she’d be willing to try. Just because she knew now that Hyunjin loved her. She still couldn’t believe that Heejin had thought she hadn’t. Hyunjin had spent years trying not to feel those things, but she’d never managed to chip away at those emotions. If anything, they’d strengthened over the years. She’d watched Heejin devote almost all of herself to her duties. The already existing respect she’d had for the girl had almost doubled then. Seeing her now, even that respect was getting stronger. 

“All I need is for you to be okay,” Heejin said. “That attack, when you’d lost your magic,” her eyes shuttered, “you being safe is what matters. You being happy is more important than you being with me.” 

Hyunjin didn’t think it was possible to love Heejin more. And she’d been proven wrong. 

“You do know that even if I did leave,” Hyunjin said slowly, “I’d be somewhere you could find me.” 

Heejin nodded. “Jinsoul’d never let you go into complete hiding.”

She kissed her cheek. “Just,” she started, “if we do come back, unless you’re absolutely sure there’ll be others on our side, don’t step in.” She took her hand. “I mean that. Not just our friends, but more than that.” 

“There will be,” Heejin said. “And you’re not going to be sent away. You’re only leaving if that’s what you all want.” 

Again, there was that certainty. The one Hyunjin could only admire. It didn’t dispel any of her worries. If they did go back to camp, she’d need to find Haseul first, tell her to keep Heejin from stepping in when she wasn’t supposed to. 

Hopefully she’d know to do that even without Hyunjin telling her. 

Unless Haseul stepped in as well. Then they’d lose two elders they needed for the future. 

“Whatever happens,” Heejin wrapped her arms around her, “it’ll be okay.” 

“Shouldn’t I be telling you that?” It was hard not to think about how her eyes had been filled with tears. How the thought of her leaving had affected Heejin. 

Was this the result of the uncertainty being lifted? Heejin’s happiness now? Or had Heejin just found the strength to face that reality? 

Heejin kissed her once more. “You already did.” 

______

Gowon forced herself not to cry. She’d failed so many times. She couldn’t do that now. Not when she was alone. It’d be more pathetic than before. 

She couldn’t even face her without wanting to hide away. She couldn’t say something without feeling her heart twist further, sinking into itself at the same time. 

The bond was broken. And it’s cracks had gone only to her. 

The only good thing was that Hyejoo had been spared from being broken by it. 

And maybe it was also good that only Gowon had been hurt by it. She deserved it. She was the reason why the bond was shattered. She was at fault for Hyejoo's pain, as well as her own. 

Gowon’s legs felt weak, but she forced them to stay upright. Alone in the forest, without the light from her skin, it felt good. She was surrounded by silence, and even the pure one of the night was a strange comfort for her. 

Most people hadn’t paid much attention to the light she had. They’d known it’d changed. She wondered if the elders or seers had known exactly what’d happened, and just passed the message around that she wasn’t dying. 

Or the change had just been so subtle. It’d taken Jungeun coming back from a three month trip to notice that Gowon’s hair had taken on a grey sheen. 

And for someone who’d been away this entire time, the changes were seen as sudden. Everything made more severe than they should’ve been. 

Hyejoo pushing her for the answer made little sense. It hurt to have to deny her the truth, but Gowon couldn’t tell her. Her not knowing was better than her finding out what was actually wrong.

She'd figured something out, or at least had a suspicion. 

Gowon's light had changed. Not the one she always called upon, but the light that was purely her own. That’d changed. It was the reason why she got spouts of cold before those vanished. It was the reason for some her pain, but not all of it. It was  one of the many reasons why she'd changed. 

Gowon tried to reign in her frustration. She was lashing out again. It was the last thing Jiwoo and Sooyoung needed, nor did they deserve it. And yet they bordered on suffocating her. They had before and they did now. She knew she was being unfair, but she couldn’t help but feel trapped when they tried to understand. She was almost convinced they couldn’t.

Then again, she'd never been able to explain it. Not really. With the two being bound, it was so obvious that she couldn’t say too much. A broken bond would hit both of them too close to home. They were already on unsteady grounds. 

Gowon looked around the forest. She’d been able to get away quickly. And far. 

She hadn’t usually paid much mind to it, but there’d been times when she’d been in tears, but no spirit had come to attack her. 

Was it because the spirits felt a familiarity with her instead of the usual hunger? 

“I’m not here to hurt you,” a voice said. 

Gowon summoned her light immediately. She hadn’t noticed their presence. She’d been too distracted. 

Then she felt a pressure in her mind. It didn’t close around anything, but it was enough of a threat. 

A mental fae. 

She saw him then, the illusion spell falling away. They could muffle their steps, breathing, and even heartbeat. It was a magic they almost all used to flee, but of course, some used it to ambush you. 

Gowon quickly looked around. No one else was there. 

And she hadn’t been killed yet. 

“Told you,” he said. “That’s not why I’m here.” A pause. “I’m Torrin.” 

She tightened her grip on her weapon.

“I know,” a small smile, “you hate it when we do that.” 

“There’s a very good reason for that.” Gowon knew he was expecting her to drop her weapon. She just lowered it. “What do you want?” 

“He told me I needed to talk to one of you,” Torrin shrugged, “said I’d know who when I got here. And now I do.” 

She frowned. “Why?” Why would Alluin even have her in that consideration? With all he knew about her, all the mental fairy would know, killing her was the next logical step. 

Torrin shook his head. "He didn't send me to kill you, but to find those changing." 

Hyejoo’s reaction came back to her. How she'd tried again and again to know what was happening. Had she known already? Or just suspected it?

He nodded. "Alluin taught the first of you. He can do so for the rest.” 

Gowon stiffened. “He wants to recruit them?” 

“Them?” The fairy raised an eyebrow. “You’re one of them as well, aren’t you?” 

She nearly swung at him. He stiffened, as if expecting the blow. “Stay out of my head,” she whispered. She let the light seep more into her skin. 

The pressure on her mind remained. “You need to learn how to control that darkness,” he said. “All of you do. I’ve seen some of what he knows.” 

Gowon scoffed. “Studied it too?” 

“He doesn’t let me.” Torrin looked at her. She hated the way he did it, as if she were a specimen. “But for magic to come later in life, for it to change,” he shook his head, “those are questions I’ve had since I first heard of the fire elf coming into your ranks.” 

She felt cold the moment she heard that. 

“I’m not here to hurt her,” the fairy said. 

Gowon shook her head. “You won’t find anyone to take back. Not here.” None of them would turn away. They'd never fight against the Astra. Even if Hyejoo hated them, she wouldn't hurt them. 

“You’re all outsiders,” Torrin replied. “You won’t have a place here once they find out.” 

“They won’t go with you,” Gowon retorted. 

“What about you?” 

“You can read my mind,” she snapped. “That should be answer enough.”

“It is.” His voice was too soft. She wanted him to be just as irritated as she was, but of course, he was patient. Most fairies were. “You don’t want to stay here.” 

Gowon’s hands were shaking. She tried to force them into fists to still them. It didn’t work. 

“You wanted to leave the moment you saw her break from that cage,” Torrin continued. “You didn’t stop her or tell anyone you’d seen her. You wanted to go after her, but you didn’t know if she’d kill you or not.” A pause. “And as time went on, you almost wished you had, that you’d taken the chance. You wouldn’t have minded if she’d gotten her revenge on you.” 

“Get out,” Gowon said, her voice shaky. 

“You get too reckless when you’re angry, especially now,” Torrin said. “Fighting me now will mean you lose.”

“Lose what?” she asked. 

“We can help you,” he replied. “He’ll give you a place, proper purpose. You won’t be hated.” He met her eyes. She got angrier just looking at the calm in them. “I could make her forget.” A smile started to form. 

Gowon froze. He didn’t even have to say who he meant. 

“That’s right,” he said. “I know how much you miss her. I know that,” his eyes shone, “without her your family’s incomplete. You are incomplete.” 

“Stop talking.” She felt cold. A pit in her stomach was twisting, dragging itself through her. 

It made her think of warm black eyes paired with her favourite smile. A high pitched laugh coupled with crinkled eyes. It made her think of a tight embrace that was the safest place. 

Then she realised he was pulling at those memories, making her think of what she missed most. 

“I know that you’re a shell of yourself.” His voice had turned gentle. “You’re always in pain. What if that bond could be fixed? I just have to make her forgive you.” 

Forgiveness.

Gowon laughed. 

Torrin frowned, taken aback. 

“Forgive me?” Gowon repeated. “You think taking memories will heal that?” She focused in on herself and grabbed hold of the light in her heart. She took some of it out and let it appear in front of his eyes. It barely hurt, but she knew she’d feel that emptiness for a few days. She already felt it now, a gaping hole in her heart. 

The light was grey with speckles of white. The light made up only half of the knife. The rest was the colour of coal, black smoke curling away from it and around her hand. Gowon had seen this a few times. She wondered if the fairy knew what that meant. 

She grabbed his arm and twisted it. Then she pulled him up. Somewhere along that movement, she managed to dislocate his shoulder, earning a cry. 

“Forgetting won’t take away what I did to her,” Gowon whispered. “And you didn’t read my mind right.” She dug her fingers into his arm, sinking her nails into the skin. She drew blood. 

He tried to get away, but the light she’d given him had made him weak. Her light had never really had an energising effect on others. She was grateful for that. It also dampened his abilities. She could feel how he tried to force himself into her head, to control her. All she felt was a stabbing to her mind, but her actions were all her own. She pushed back, letting him see some of her worser thoughts, some of her memories. 

“What,” he breathed out through his nose, “do you mean?” There were tears in his eyes. He winced when she showed him the memory of the week after Hyejoo's banishment. She'd taken her time with a vampire. Torrin would be seeing their terror. 

“If you’d looked properly,” she could feel the blood seeping onto her fingers, “you would’ve known that I’d never let you touch her mind.” The light of her heart transformed into a knife. 

She let the fairy go and took it. It almost burned her hand. Her skin felt frozen. The pain was there now. It was both from his magic and the ache of the bond. Somehow that’d gotten stronger again. 

“I know what happened,” Torrin said, backing away. Finally, he didn’t look calm anymore. He looked afraid. “I know she’s hurt and I know you could still have her.” 

Gowon rammed her foot onto his leg. There were a series of horrible cracks as she crushed it. 

He screamed. 

“It’s not about having her,” Gowon told him. “It’s not about her forgiving me.” She knelt down beside him. “She never has to.”

He looked terrified. There was a dull pressure on her mind. He was still trying to save himself. The pressure was quickly fading. 

“And I’ll never forgive myself.” She sank the knife into his chest. 

______

“This was my fault,” Hyejoo was saying. “I didn’t know what would happen. Not really.”

Jungeun put a hand to her shoulder. “No one go hurt,” she said. “And this would’ve happened eventually.” She looked to Yerim. “The light wasn’t coming back, was it?”

Yerim shook her head. She’d seen her reflection in the river. One of her eyes had turned black, with a single white crescent at the base of it. The other was so much darker than normal. Her entire body felt cold, but not freezing. Both her eyes felt heavy. 

But she didn’t get a headache anymore. She could see the light, and while it was extremely bright, she could follow the routes it took. The shadows were so much more visible to her. She could see the differences between them. Jiwoo had once told her that she’d always tried to find those differences, but she never had. When they’d fought against vampires, it’d always been Chaewon who’d picked up on those, while Jiwoo had been looking into their futures. It made sense now that Chaewon was the only one able to do that. 

“So it’s not anything you’re at fault for,” Jungeun told Hyejoo. The smile on her face was warm. Yerim had seen it so many times and it’d always given her comfort. 

It did the same for Hyejoo now. 

“How’re you feeling?” Jinsoul asked softly. She took Yerim’s hand without any hesitation. Even with the change, she wasn’t afraid of her. 

That reassured Yerim more than any words could. She hadn’t been afraid of taking the darkness, even when it’d hurt, even when she’d felt something shift in her heart. She hadn’t even been afraid of what the Astra would think. 

But she had been afraid of what Jungeun and Jinsoul would think. They’d been united by the light and now that was gone. 

Yet Jinsoul was looking at her as if nothing had changed. Jungeun seemed almost relieved by the change, though Yerim still didn’t know exactly why. 

“Weird,” Yerim admitted. “Really different.” Something in her was heavier than normal, she wasn’t sure if it was her heart, or just her entire body. She’d gotten back the strength she’d been lacking. Ever since the spirit, she’d been missing that. She hadn’t realised how much until she’d gotten a part of her magic back. “But better.”

Jinsoul smiled, squeezing her hand lightly. 

“Does anyone know?” Hyejoo asked. “The seers?”

“I don’t know,” Jungeun said. 

“They might,” Yerim shrugged, “my path still has light, but it isn’t the same.” 

The three looked at her. 

She realised then that she was probably being very calm. A big contrast to Hyunjin as well. She hoped she was alright. 

“I’ve had to face a change like this before,” Yerim told them. Twice. 

Jungeun nodded. There it was again: understanding. Yerim could see the shadows, as well as the outright darkness that still clung to her. It hadn’t been anything Hyejoo could take away. It belonged to Jungeun just as the light of her mind did. The longer Yerim looked at it, the more she could feel the guilt that followed Jungeun. She even started to feel a strange hatred there, one directed only at Jungeun. It hurt to see it. 

“But what do we do now?” Hyejoo looked between them. “What if they do the same thing they—” She faltered. “The same thing they did to me?”

“They won’t,” Jungeun said. 

Jinsoul’s grip on her tightened. “And I wouldn’t let them if they did.” There was a surprisingly dark look in her eyes. 

Yerim could see flickers of darkness within Jinsoul, much sharper than the light she held. It was starting to hurt her head to see that light. 

“And,” Jungeun looked to the sky once, “it’s never been more obvious that the darkness isn’t evil than it is now. It can help us more than anything else.” She grimaced. “But they’ll be scared.”

“Do you want to wait?” Jinsoul asked, turning back to Yerim. She looked hesitant. Distrustful of the Astra. 

Hyejoo looked the same. Yerim could feel their unease, their worry, more pronounced than she’d ever felt it. 

The only person who didn’t seem worried was Jungeun, yet Yerim could still feel it. She was hiding it, but it still wasn’t as much as the other two. 

Yerim felt somewhere in between. She didn’t want to put a lot of faith in the Astra, but she needed to have some hope as well. She couldn’t fully expect the worst either. At least not yet. 

“It’ll look worse if I wait,” Yerim said. “But we’re not saying anything about Hyunjin until she wants to.” And she had no idea when that would be, but it’d happen. Hyunjin wouldn’t reject the chance to have magic again. Being without it had eaten at her more than she’d let on. 

And of course it had. 

Then she felt something shift. She saw their paths change in one single direction. At the end of it, she could feel a very different darkness to anything around her. It felt like rage. Murder. 

At the same time, Hyejoo gasped, a hand on her chest. 

Yerim saw threads of black extending from that same place. 

“Chae,” she whispered. Then she collapsed. 

______

Olivia didn’t know what was waiting for her. That just made it worse. 

As she ran, she was wondering why she even cared. Maybe she could feel the pain in her chest, and maybe it meant that something was happening to Gowon. 

But wasn’t that what she’d wanted? 

“What do you see?” Olivia asked. 

“She’ll be fine,” Yerim replied. Can’t say if it’ll really be good or not.” A pause. “I never can with her.” Jinsoul and Jungeun were at her side, despite the latter actually not being allowed to run. Yerim had already told them not to go to the camp. Whatever was happening, they needed to know what it was before anyone in camp knew. 

What was that supposed to mean? Did that mean people were actually noticing what was wrong with Gowon, but had stopped addressing it? 

Then there was a scream. It didn’t belong to Gowon, but Olivia still recognised the voice.

She broke into a sprint. 

The screams kept going. Olivia felt her chest twisting. She could feel a strange satisfaction, but also a quickly forming fury. Hatred joined it, but it felt like something that’d stewed for a long time. Olivia knew it well, but none of those emotions were hers.

When she focused on it, trying to distinguish between them, she saw Gowon as she’d seen her before. Bright eyes filled with warmth and mischief. She saw her golden hair, but also the bright blue she’d gotten after drinking a potion for a bet. She heard her laugh, something that’d been driven far back into her memory. 

Yerim gasped. 

Olivia’s stomach lurched when she saw what’d made the others stumble to a halt. 

Gowon was kneeling beside a body, her arms covered in blood. In her right hand, there was a dagger of both light and darkness. 

But what struck her was the look in her eyes. It was empty. She didn’t look stunned or shocked, only numb. 

Olivia recognised him. Torrin. She’d also been hesitant around him, avoiding any contact. He was always looking through your mind, not to find an advantage, but to know why you were with Alluin—what had happened to you. And the last thing she wanted was for someone to be in her head. 

His eyes were half open. The shirt was torn in several places. He’d been stabbed several times. 

“Chaewon?” Jungeun called. She was moving closer, but slowly. 

The dagger fell from Gowon’s hand. She looked up. “He was a mental fae.” 

Olivia felt cold. Gowon sounded detached. Lifeless almost. It wasn’t right.

She looked to the shadows, only to see that they’d gathered around her. She saw the long shadow of guilt and shame that’d never left her, but there was also the darkness of murder and anger. Something Gowon had never had before. Olivia had always known that, even without her magic. 

“It’s okay,” Jungeun said softly. “We can’t interrogate them anyway.”

That was true. Mental fae managed to evade most magics that influenced the mind and a lot of the time. Emotions were an exception to that, but almost no emotional fae would agree to an interrogation. 

Gowon’s light subdued, sometimes it even took the pain away, but usually it drained your energy. That’s how she’d fought the fairy and survived. 

With a start, Olivia remembered that her light had also left people cold before. It wasn’t always the case, but sometimes. 

“He was here for us.” Gowon wasn’t looking at the body. 

“For us?” Yerim repeated. “You mean—”

“Everyone who’s changing,” Gowon said. “Or changed.” 

That meant Alluin knew. 

Olivia felt as though she’d been plunged into icy waters. Was this how he’d known to come to her? Did he have some variation of the sight? 

A flare of anger rose in her. 

Except this time it wasn’t at Gowon or any of the other Astra here. It was at Alluin. 

He was trying to pick away at them. At the same time, he was sending more people to their deaths. Did he expect them to succeed? Or did he know they’d die? 

Either way, he was managing to chip away at them, even though he was losing people. He was attacking their strength, draining it. 

Gowon met Olivia’s eyes. Finally, there was some emotion there, but it was shame. “I still don’t know what happened to me.” She looked away. The dagger flew into her hand. The light within it was grey. The darkness was mostly black, but it wasn’t like her own. Still, it was far from being anything close to light. 

It melted into her skin, going straight for her heart. She didn’t flinch. She relaxed instead. 

Olivia saw it then. Gowon wasn’t surrounded by light. She didn’t have too much darkness in her heart either. She had both. That’s why she’d changed. Maybe that was why the rest had practically ignored it. They’d just seen her light. 

“I can send him back,” Gowon said. She was looking at Yerim, a shielded expression, but there was still something gentle there. “You can.” Her eyes widened. “Oh.” 

“I’ll do it,” Jungeun was shaking her head, “you should,” she trialed off. 

The smile that appeared was hard to look at. “Get cleaned up?” She looked down. There was blood across her clothes too, even droplets on her face. 

Olivia hadn’t seen her like this in a long time. She’d never seen Gowon look so ditched from a fight she’d had. Was that the darkness? It couldn’t have let to something like this. Not really. 

“I don’t want you being traced back to this.” Gowon stared at the ground. “They don’t need more reasons to try again.” A long stretch of moonlight appeared in her hands. It was grey and white. Tainted. “It’s fine. I’ll tell them what happened myself.”

“What did happen?” Olivia asked. 

Gowon started. She looked at her once before looking back at the dead fairy. She began to carve the circle around him. 

“He came once I was alone,” she said. “Told me he was waiting to be able to talk to one of us.” She paused, eyes locked on the ground. “Said that Alluin sent him, that he could teach us.” The next motion she made was sharp, wrenching her blade through the dirt. “And he offered to—I think he would’ve taken us there.”

She wasn’t saying everything. 

Olivia almost pressed her for it. 

Then the reality of it all settled in. Gowon had been dealing with this hybrid form of light for some time. She’d slowly been taken by it. Now the explanations were here. The proof of change was here. 

Gowon finished with the runes. Her voice sounded eerie as she sang the rite. Maybe because she’d just killed him. Or maybe because there was no tremor in her voice. 

Yerim caught her eye. She looked worried. Jinsoul was staring at Gowon, tears in her eyes. Jungeun had moved to kneel down beside Gowon. She hadn’t said anything yet. 

Then someone was running over. Two of them. Olivia knew who they were, but she stayed where she was. She wasn’t going to run from this. 

“Chae,” Chuu was at her side, “are you okay?” She gasped when she saw the body. 

Gowon flinched. “Fine.”

Yves was staring at Gowon’s hands. Pain was evident on her face. 

The fairy sank into the earth then.

Gowon closed her eyes. Jungeun put a hand over her bloody one. 

Olivia found her voice. “How long?” 

They all looked at her. 

Gowon was the last to. When she met her eyes, there still wasn’t any resolve there. She still looked emotionless. 

“A few years.”

“And you’re still allowed to stay.” She felt her anger finally start to form. Why did the anger only come now? She knew why they hadn’t seen it, or at least why it hadn’t been alarming to them. 

Gowon just shook her head. “They don’t know.” She looked down. "No one does unless they look far enough." 

Olivia thought of Hyunjin and Yerim. The Astra would know then. It was only a matter of time until Gowon’s actual magic showed through. 

“That could be what’s poisoning you.”

Something flickered in her eyes. It was acceptance. “Maybe.” She pushed herself to her feet. “I have to tell them what happened,” she said. “More could be coming.” Then she glanced at Yerim, the smallest hint of a smile appearing, one with actual warmth in it. “I won’t tell.”

She wasn’t lying. 

Gowon stumbled. Chuu reached out to steady her. She pushed her away, making her stumble. 

“You didn’t have to come,” she spat. Anger was there now, replacing the emptiness completely. 

“But your path—” 

“It disappeared?” Gowon asked. “Or did it just darken?” She started walking away. “Learning the difference might do you good,” she said under her breath. 

Chuu flinched. Both followed. 

“Chae,” Sooyoung sounded shaken, but an edge had entered her voice. “That’s not fair.” They were getting further away. 

“Oh really?” She scoffed. “Now you’re on her side? What did that take?”

“Hey,” her voice softened, “there’re no sides. It’s just us.”

Silence.

Just us. It hadn’t taken long to see how the three had pulled away from the rest, even if some of them were still on their side. 

“Sorry,” Gowon whispered. “You’re right, that—” She broke off. 

Olivia felt some of the shadows flow towards Gowon. She could feel the surge of shame. Those emotions were never far from her. From any of them. 

And she’d be an idiot to know the reason for that. She almost relished in the fact that the guilt was still eating at them, at Gowon most of all. What stopped her was the dread she felt for what that actually meant. 

______

Author's Note

This chapter was longer than planned, but it's been a while since the last update. Also, a lot of things were happening, some of which I'd planned for a little while. In other cases, scenes I'd thought would go one way, namely the extensive scene between Hyunjin and Heejin, went a little differently compared to what I'd originally planned. I'd actually thought that conversation would've happened earlier in the story, without the added knowledge of Hyunjin's darkness, but it never felt right. Those two are another pair that are very clearly a pair (for the most part), but there've been circumstances keeping them apart. Priad's perspective regarding the bond, as well as Heejin does feel rather sudden. However, it's partially because he's not a big part of the story, and putting in more scenes for that was not what I wanted, especially considering how long this story already is. 

I'd also ended up reorganising the chapter, because the way the events are happening is more or less parallel to one another. However, it would really have been a break in tone if I'd have put 2jin after what was happening with Gowon. I also didn't want to make things too confusing. Just to clear things up, however, Gowon does have darkness, but she still has some control over light. Hers is tainted, however, while the triplet line have control over darkness (except for Yerim, because she's got her previous magic + foresight). 

I also apologise for the lack of Yeojin in this story, as well as others you feel have been 'under-written'. I'd wanted to be more equal in their stories, as well as to be able to better explore her character, but she hasn't been as central to the plot. There've been parts where I've finally been able to write about her, or from her pov, but mostly not really. It tends to fluctuate on that end.

If you have any questions, please do ask. I'll answer them as best I can without spoiling what'll be happening. Would really love to know your thoughts on 2jin and the place they are (is it a good one? or still undecided?), or what happened with Gowon and the aftermath of that. There was quite a bit of new information here, so if you've any predictions/speculations, those are also wonderful to read when I see them too. 

Hope you're all doing well and are staying healthy. See you in the next chapter.