Hyunjin smiled when she saw her. 

Heejin’s heart swelled at the sight of it. There was still something holding her smile back, but it was so much more than before. 

“Hungry?” Hyunjin asked. “I still have some left.” One of her eyes was that strange shade of grey, but both were still bright. 

“I can join you?” 

“Of course,” she chuckled, “you could, and you did, before.” 

Heejin picked out some pieces of meat and fried vegetables. Hyunjin had used a lot of potatoes this time. 

When she sat down, Hyunjin touched her cheek, but only for a second. “I might’ve been waiting this time,” she said quietly.

That made Heejin happier than she would've thought. It was almost normal. That made her even happier. 

“There was a lot tonight,” Heejin nodded, “they want to have the seers try to track his people, follow them to the next targets.”

“And take them out,” Hyunjin finished. 

She nodded, before starting to eat. “I don’t know how successful they’ll be with that. Alluin’ll probably be having witches making a check for that.” Heejin sighed. “Or he makes it unpredictable.”

“Or he sends people who wouldn’t get overwhelmed,” she replied. “Not all of us can handle a mental fae.” 

Heejin thought of Chaewon then. She was still angry with her, but that had faded each time she saw how Chaewon flinched away when Heejin looked her way. 

And she’d helped to keep the others here. Not just Hyunjin and Yerim, but also Hyejoo. 

“They have a blood wielder,” Heejin said. Hyejoo had told them more about the camp. About the people Alluin had gathered there. She hadn’t seen all of it, but enough. 

“I know,” Hyunjin nodded, “she told us.”

“How is it?” she asked. “Using the darkness?” 

“Strange.” Hyunjin’s eyes went to the fire. The fire reflected in them as a hue of orange and yellow. “But not like when we’re around a spirit. At least not the ones that attack.” 

“So like Aeong?” The name still made her smile. The cat spirit had strayed near them after Hyejoo had healed Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin nodded. “Hye said that’s normal. So I guess it’ll just be about getting used to it.” She frowned slightly. “Some things are actually easy.” 

“Probably because it’s a lot like the light,” she suggested. 

She shrugged. “Maybe.” She hugged her knees. “It still scares me,” she whispered. “Even if it doesn’t hurt—it doesn’t even make me feel like I did before. Not even close.” 

Heejin put down her bowl. She scooted a bit closer. She reached out a hand, but held it back. 

Hyunjin glanced at it, then back to her. She smiled slightly, nodding ever so slightly. "We can do that now." 

Heejin took one of her hands, pulling it from her leg. Her skin was cool, but not freezing. “Are you scared of what you don’t know?” 

She nodded. “Yerim’s taking it well so far. At least, it looks like that,” she said. “But even if she’s used to it, I’m not sure if she’s just acting like that to avoid worrying the rest of us.” A pause. “And the other two.” 

Those two had both been keeping themselves together as best they could. Jinsoul had been pushing herself through the new obstacles, but she’d been stretching herself thin. Jungeun had taken on too much of the fighting. Both had been stepping over and back across their limits. Heejin wasn’t sure what they’d have been like if something else had happened to Yerim.

“If it’s not hurting her, then she’s probably taking it like she handled the light. Maybe better than that.” 

Hyunjin laughed slightly. “I guess I’m going through that phase now.” 

“You know,” Heejin squeezed her hand, “I have no idea about how I’d be a teacher, but I‘ll train with you. If you want.”

“That’d be good,” she said. “Might have a chance to beat me for a little while.” 

Heejin shoved her lightly. “Your magic changed, that doesn’t mean your skill did.” 

Hyunjin laughed again. “You’ll still get me a few times, I think.” She winked. 

The change struck her then. There was a lightness between them that had only come in glimpses over the years. 

It must’ve dawned on Hyunjin too, because her expression softened. She tugged on Heejin’s hand a bit. “Sit with me?” 

“I already am.” 

Grey and yellow eyes rolled. 

Heejin grinned and went closer. 

Hyunjin shifted their hands so that their fingers laced together. 

She felt a little tug at her chest then. The ache that’d persisted since the start of the night got a little stronger. 

“What I said earlier,” Hyunjin said, “about what could’ve happened tonight.” 

Heejin felt cold just thinking about it. “Not everyone wanted you gone.”

“I know.” 

She looked up. Of the many things in her eyes, Heejin recognised sadness in them. 

“Are you still leaving?” Even the words hurt to say. 

Hyunjin shook her head. “No, not now.” 

Heejin didn’t hide the relief she felt at that, even if the last two words gnawed at her. 

“We can help,” Hyunjin continued. “Hye‘s going to show us how to heal. Then there’ll be three more healers.” A short laugh. “Would’ve never expected that.” 

“Remember when Jungeun fixed my shoulder?” Heejin asked. 

A slow smile appeared. “I think she was more surprised with herself than we were.” 

Heejin sighed. “She’s stubborn enough to still think it’s not in her nature.” 

Hyunjin only nodded in response. 

Heejin felt herself frown. “What’re you thinking?” She lifted her hand to Hyunjin’s cheek, turning her head over to her. “The darkness doesn’t have a clear nature, just like the light doesn’t have that. We’ve seen both be violent, but also good.” 

“I’m not afraid of that,” Hyunjin replied. “At least I don’t think so.” 

“Then what?” Heejin didn’t take her hand away. Hyunjin didn’t push it away either. 

“I don’t know what my nature’s supposed to be,” she said. “I’ve done—I can do things—see things I thought would’ve torn me apart in the past.” Hyunjin took a deep breath. “But I think all of us have.”

She didn’t reply. She didn’t know where Hyunjin was going with this. She also didn't know half of the things that had happened when Jungeun was away. 

“I saw that with Chaewon. I thought that maybe, she was being changed by it,” Hyunjin shook her head, “but now I can see the difference.”

“What difference?” Heejin couldn’t help but frown. She stopped herself from saying anything else. It wouldn’t be fair. 

“Between her magic and her guilt,” she said. “Sooyoung and Jiwoo both have that guilt too. It’s shadows for them, but it’s something stronger with Chaewon. Chaewon’s actual darkness, the one that’s like ours, I don’t think that’s what changed her.” 

“When you say actual darkness.” Heejin looked at her. 

“I mean her magic. What’s changed her,” she trailed off, “it’s what she feels. There’s so much anger, pain, and hate, but not towards anyone.” 

“You mean it’s at herself,” Heejin finished. 

Hyunjin nodded. 

Heejin didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what she could say. She’d hated Chaewon as well, but that hadn’t lasted long. She’d still gotten angry every time she’d seen her, but it hadn’t gotten more than that. She’d just stayed angry. 

“Hyejoo showed us how to take the darkness out of us, the one that hurts.” She looked at her hands, as if expecting to see shadows on them. “But I don’t think Chaewon could do it. It’s a part of her.” 

Heejin felt her heart sink. She’d seen the look in Chaewon’s eyes. You’d have to be blind not to. “And if she could, she still wouldn't. Not now.” Maybe in the beginning, when the guilt had been fresh. Except now, that guilt had festered. Heejin almost didn't want to believe it, but she knew Chaewon would settle on living with it. 

“I don’t know if learning to control the other kind would help,” Hyunjin shrugged, “if the light didn’t help her.” She frowned. “But she should try.”

“You want to teach her?” 

“Once I know how to do it myself and understand it some more.” Hyunjin nodded. “And if she’d let me.” Her frown deepened. “Is it bad that I want to help her? Even after everything?”

Heejin shook her head. “A year ago, I would’ve said yes.” 

Her gaze softened. “What changed?” 

“Hyejoo’s back,” Heejin said. “And it’s nothing like before. We’ve all changed too much to have that again.” She turned her gaze to the fire. “But I still wish we could. Chaewon was a part of that.” An annoying one at times, but that was what made it all the way it was. 

Hyunjin kissed her then. She lingered for only a second, before pulling away. 

Heejin gaped at her. “What brought that on?” She was half torn between looking to see who’d seen them and leaning back in for another. 

“Before,” Hyunjin took her hand again, "I was scared you’d let your anger change you.” 

She felt ashamed then. “It did.” 

“You still came back from it.” Her two-coloured eyes were a bit brighter now. There was still light there. 

Heejin didn’t know why that was. She didn’t know how any of it worked. 

“And I’m so happy you did,” Hyunjin said. “I didn’t know what to do before, if I should step in—tell you.” She sighed. “But I didn’t need to, not really.”

“You did and it helped," Heejin replied. “I might’ve ruined things with Viian before I even knew who she really was.”

She nodded. “But you know her.” 

Heejin felt a burst of gratitude then. Time hadn’t let them speak much, but she respected Viian. It was easy to like her. Like Yerim, there was still a fair amount she didn’t really know about her life before, but she still managed to learn enough about who she was. For right now, that was enough. 

Another thought came to mind. Something she needed to ask. 

“With the darkness,” Heejin began, “what do you think it means for you? Does it feel different? Not the magic, but do you feel any different?”

Hyunjin didn’t shy away from her gaze. It was different from before. They could actually look at each other, even though anyone could walk past. Heejin hadn’t really realised how different they’d acted within the camp. She’d focused more on how Hyunjin had acted even when it had only been the two of them. 

“Still cold, but it’s,” she paused, “normal?” She smiled, a bit sheepish. “I don’t feel weak anymore, which was probably the worst part.” She looked away. “Is that a bad thing? That the cold wasn’t the worst part? That the rest wasn’t as bad as,” she trailed off. 

“As not having your magic?” Heejin finished. “No,” she squeezed her hand, “our magic is a part of us. Without it, I know I’d feel incomplete.” She tried to word her next question right. “Does it feel like a part of you now?”

Hyunjin nodded. “I didn’t really have to get used to how it felt.” Her eyes were on her hands again. “Just what it’s like to use it.” Then she bit her lip. “Do you,” she glanced up before looking away again, “does it feel different to be around me?” 

Heejin didn’t miss the way Hyunjin’s voice faltered at the end. 

“It feels better than before,” Heejin said. “But that’s not because of the magic. There’s a difference in the light, your skin’s a bit cooler, and your eyes don’t match anymore, but that’s it.” She lifted a hand to Hyunjin’s cheek, feeling relieved when she didn’t pull away. “And if you’re acting different, it’s because I can do this.” She pressed a light kiss to her forehead. When she pulled away, there was a small smile on Hyunjin’s face. “And you look like that.” 

She blinked a few times, before her face broke into a soft grin. “Look like what?” 

“Happy.” 

Surprise flickered in her eyes, but it was replaced by something close to gratitude. “I’m getting there.” She pulled her into her arms. 

Heejin felt a weight on her chest lift then. She pulled Hyunjin closer, closing her eyes. 

“I love you,” Hyunjin whispered. 

“I love you too.” 

______

Haseul woke to a pressure in her chest. She sat up, taking a breath. It came easily. 

So there wasn’t anything wrong with her lungs. 

She tried massaging it, tapping it, drinking something. Nothing helped. If she wasn’t imagining it, her chest was pulsing. 

It wasn’t the first time she’d felt it, but never like this. Before it had been a subtle tugging now and then. Now it was as if something was pushing back. 

She got dressed, cleaned her face and teeth. Vivi wasn’t there, but that wasn’t unusual. Neither was Heejin. That was unusual, but Haseul had a sneaking suspicion about where she was. Yeojin still slept soundly. It was one of the few times she’d see her fully relaxed. She knew Heejin would be too. 

She hated that it had to be when they were sleeping. Before, she’d debated sending Heejin and Yeojin to go somewhere together. She’d always thought against it, because it would’ve been an echo chamber for their anger. Haseul still wondered if that would’ve been better. What if she’d made them both finally let all their anger out? Would it have given them a sort of closure? Brought the two of them closer? 

But Hyejoo was back now. Heejin was almost completely free of her bond now. She could finally stop hiding the way she felt for Hyunjin. Hyunjin could finally let herself love Heejin again. 

And what about Yeojin? She had one of her closest friends back, but everything was so different to how it had been before. Hyejoo had changed. So had Yeojin and probably everyone else. Humans changed over the course of their lives, several times over. In one of their lifetimes, an immortal could remain almost exactly the same. 

Except the rest of them had changed so much in the last years. Too much. 

Haseul shook her head, shaking out her arms. She wanted to move. Running or swimming. Maybe even a fight. 

The effects on everyone had been both sudden and slow to see. Since Hyejoo’s banishment, anger and guilt had infected all of them. The result was a group with deep fractures. Its individual pieces were cracked as well. 

Even with Hyejoo being back, Haseul didn’t know how much better off they were. A huge part of their worries had been quelled, with the healers being alleviated of some of the dread that always came with new injuries. Heejin and Yeojin were actually starting to free themselves of some of that resentment. Even so, Haseul knew well enough that it was still there. 

And then there were the people who’d once been closest to Hyejoo. Haseul knew nothing they’d do could ever excuse what they’d done, but she couldn’t bring herself to be angry at them. Not anymore. 

She wanted to be there for Sooyoung as she’d once been, let her actually talk about what was tearing at her. Then there was Jiwoo, who’d been carrying a burden for longer than most, hardly ever revealing that she’d had it. Haseul knew the loneliness that came with a responsibility like that, but she didn’t know it to the extent that Jiwoo probably did. 

And her heart hurt whenever she thought of Chaewon, her light twisted by regret and self-hatred. 

Haseul massaged the sides of her head. Time should’ve mended some of these wounds, but it’d only succeeded in making them worse.

That was when she heard the sounds of stone scraping together. Then the crackling of earth, as if someone was transporting themselves away from camp. 

Haseul followed the noise, half-surprised that she’d walked to another part of the forest than she usually did. 

The sun was setting, but at this angle, its light streamed through in lazy ribbons. And in that light, Haseul saw orange hair. The colour was richer in the sunlight. 

She wasn’t surprised to find her here. She’d seen with Jungeun and the others how difficult it was to adjust. A few times, she’d tried adjusting her own sleep cycle when on her visits to other elves and fae. She’d given up on that and just used a mixture of light and potions for staying awake. 

Haseul smiled. “Early practice?”

The sound of rock and dirt came to a halt. 

“I still can’t get used to the time,” Vivi replied. She looked surprisingly content. Like most things, it suited her. 

“How long have you been awake?” Haseul finally reached the clearing. Vivi was surrounded by boulders and pebbles. Some were being reformed to blades, others to representations of trees. She was taken aback by the level of detail. And how Vivi was able to control all of that at the same time. 

“Mid to late afternoon?” Vivi sighed. “And before you say it, that’s the latest I’ve woken up.”

Haseul had to smile. “Or earliest.”

She rolled her eyes and took up the stones again. Haseul watched as one of the pieces, almost as tall as her, turned to liquid, rolling in the air. 

“Why‘re you awake?” Vivi asked, her eyes trained on the stone. 

“Couldn’t go back to sleep,” she admitted. She didn’t talk about what had woken her up. It wasn’t even there anymore. She’d cleared her head during the walk. 

The stone flowed towards the ground, it pooled there before some of it rose. It took the shape of a large bowl. Then it solidified, its sides and base perfectly smooth. The only things that had changed were the edges. 

Haseul walked over and looked. There were subtle waves and even ripples there. “Did you leave these on purpose?” 

“Actually no.” Vivi chuckled. She came closer and knelt beside the stone. “But I always liked it.” She put a hand to the rock and traced along its sides. The stone gave way to her fingertips. Markings either went away in thin lines, or became grooves. 

“So you’re an artist.” It didn’t take much work to spot the tenderness in Vivi’s eyes. Haseul liked to see it.

Another laugh. “It’s hardly art.” She kept moving her hand, creating more intricate patterns. Some of them were nearing sigils. Would they work? “Mine goes directly to what I want and the precision work is easy.” 

“But that took practice?” Haseul asked. “I don’t ever try something more complex than a groove in the blade. It’s hard on my little mind.”

Vivi raised her eyes, the amusement in them obvious. Haseul was happy to see it. The mask was falling away. She liked what was underneath. “I spent more time on the little things when I was a child. The lighter they were, the easier I could form them.” 

She nodded and watched as Vivi finished the work. It was a layout of seemingly random patterns. Some connected, others ended bluntly. Haseul stepped back to see if there was a change. She saw a face, then an animal. It was a bird. 

“Still impressive,” Haseul said. “I know a few people who actually collect things like this. They always want us to make a sculpture for them.”

Vivi gave her a look. “And what do you say?” 

“Nothing I should repeat.” 

She smiled. “Good.” Then some of the stones around them all coalesced into a large platform with a piece that rose at the back. “Want to sit down?”

Haseul looked at it. “That’s supposed to be a chair?”

“An extended one,” Vivi chuckled, “so both of us can sit.”

She did. Vivi joined her. 

“We’re leaving tonight,” Haseul said. “Are you alright with that?” 

Immediately, Vivi nodded. “I was wondering why you hadn’t gone as soon as Yeojin said yes. Both Yerim and Hyejoo were looking our way earlier. Did she tell them?” 

She fought a sigh. “Hadn’t noticed that.” She’d known the seers would see that. She hadn’t thought of Yerim when it came to that. It was still so new to think of. Jungeun had told her only a few days ago. She’d also said that Vivi should know so she wouldn’t think all seers were like Eline and the rest. “She didn’t tell them. Yerim knows.” 

Vivi’s brow rose. 

“She’s a seer,” Haseul explained. “Don’t ask me how, when or why, but she is. She’s seen where we’re going.” She prayed that the three would see sense and not follow. 

Or maybe she had to speak to them as well? She wasn’t sure if she could look into Hyejoo’s eyes and tell her she was leaving. Hyejoo would know she was afraid. And depending on what Yerim was seeing, maybe there was a real reason to be. 

An elbow dug gently into her side. 

“Having second thoughts?” 

Haseul shook her head. “Do you think they’d follow us?” 

“You know them better than I do,” Vivi said. A short pause. “But I think they’d definitely want to.” 

“I need to tell them not to. Or at least convince Hyunjin.” 

“Would they listen to her?” 

“They do and they don’t.” Haseul fought a smile, remembering how the three had alternated who’d lead which little bout of chaos. They’d dragged in jinxed objects, from when they were young all the way to a century ago. Chaewon had either been the one trying to keep them from balding Jinsoul, or she’d been the one to encourage them to make Sooyoung bark for three days. It’d depended on their mood. 

Vivi had that thinking face again. “Things were good before, weren’t they?”

The words made Haseul’s eyes sting. She stamped the feeling out. It was homesickness, she knew that much. “They were.” 

Vivi was quiet then. Some of the rock was starting to go back into the ground. The earth behind it was left in shambles. Nothing Yerim wouldn’t be able to solve. She’d once said it was relaxing to just smooth over the earth and let grass grow. She said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Haseul still found it incredible when she used her magic. 

“You do intend to come back, don’t you?” Vivi asked. 

The question made her pause. “Of course I do, but there’s nothing set—” She broke off, grimacing slightly. 

“Nothing set in stone,” Vivi finished, chuckling. It sounded forced. “I know that, but you’re acting like everything’s a goodbye,” she said. “You went to the others, people you’d been furious with, and I understand why, but you did all that now. Right you left.” 

“Because we need to hope,” Haseul said. 

“And at the same time, you tell them you’re following people who follow someone who wants some of us, perhaps even all of us, to pay for what was done to him.” 

Haseul shook her head. “There’s a balance to it. I think I’ll come back, but I have to be ready for the chance that I won’t. The rest do too.” 

“I spoke to Jungeun yesterday," Vivi said. "You sound just like her."

She had to laugh then. “She would’ve gone alone.” She still was going to be alone, at some point in the near future. She didn’t tell Vivi that. 

“And she has people who wouldn’t have let her.” Vivi’s pale pink eyes held hers. “How would she have gotten out of that?” 

“She wouldn’t have,” Haseul replied. “But she’d have gotten things done fast enough that by the time Yerim and Soul caught up with her, it’d have just been to go back with her.” She shrugged. “It’s happened before.” Then she shot her a wink. “My tactic is I get a lot of things done for one little expedition.” 

“You lie about where you’re going?” 

“I lie,” she smiled, “by omitting certain stops along the way. That’s what I did there.” She waved to the camp. “It’s what I do a lot of the time.” 

Vivi frowned. “Why’re you telling me that?” 

“You want to know how I do things around here, don’t you?” Haseul raised a brow. “And you’re trying to figure out if I’m the self-sacrificing type, or if I’m self-destructive.”

“Those’re just different ways to frame the same thing.” 

“They can be,” Haseul nodded, “not always.” 

Vivi’s frown deepened. “That sort of vagueness usually comes from the fae.”

“You should spend a meal with Eline.”

“Have you?”

“Several,” Haseul laughed, “but she’s actually not too bad. Dives into your future too much, but you learn to accept it.”

Vivi raised a brow. “I’m not sure if I’d be so fond of it, but I’d say I’m used to that sort of thing.” 

“Right,” Haseul nodded, “except it’s more for you. Your past, present, and your emotions.” She grimaced. “All there.” 

She just shook her head. “You learn to get used to it, and to think certain things that keeps them out of your head.” 

“What kind of things?” Haseul couldn’t help but lean forward. “Do you cuss them out? I usually end up doing that.” 

Vivi laughed. “Either I do that, or I think up certain other things, especially if I know they’re prude.” 

She couldn’t help but smile. “So you’re not?”

“Didn’t I tell you I spent time with vampires?” Vivi asked. “And others.” 

“You didn’t mention ‘others’,” Haseul raised a brow, “and I believe you said you’d ask me about mine another time?”

She gave another laugh, lighter this time. “You’d tell me about them?”

“If you asked.” Haseul shrugged. “In that sense, my past hasn't quite been so catastrophic.” 

Vivi looked slightly confused then. 

“What,” she smiled, “were you expecting dramatic heartbreak?” 

“Something like it,” Vivi said. “I mean,” she hesitated, “you’re someone where I’d have expected you to have found—“ Her eyes fell to the ground. That wasn’t a typical thing for her. “Well, that you’d have a partner.” 

Haseul had to smile. “Funny, I’d have thought I’d be the opposite of that.” 

She frowned. “I don’t see it.” 

“You’re flattering me,” she chuckled, “I didn’t really spend enough time in the camp.” 

“Time was a problem?” Vivi asked. 

“Not for everyone,” Haseul replied. “Jungeun left camp as much as I did.” 

“Jungeun?” she repeated. 

“A while ago,” she said. “Ended on good terms.“

“Was this before Jinsoul?” Vivi looked a bit concerned. 

Haseul nodded. 

“How long?” 

“Long enough.” She laughed. “My dramatic heartbreak would’ve probably come if we’d have been freshly parted.” 

Vivi looked at her for a moment. 

“Anyone with eyes would’ve seen what those two would be,” Haseul said. “Even if Jinsoul nearly hated her.” 

“What?” She looked bewildered. 

“They,” Haseul searched for the right words, “they didn’t start all that, well, great.” She shrugged. “But they’re wonderful how. Well, they were, until—“ 

“Until things got bad. And then even worse.” Vivi sighed. “The way Jungeun talks, I would’ve thought that wasn’t so unusual.” 

“This was.” Haseul’s heart sank. “Jinsoul was always able to heal her. There was always something they could do, even if she was freezing, or had some massive sword sticking out of her.” 

“Would she appreciate you talking about it like that?”

“She would, Soul wouldn’t.” Haseul forced a small laugh, but it fell flat. “I don’t think she’s ever felt that powerless before. And it didn’t help that we were losing people before that.” 

Vivi’s gaze fell. 

Haseul tried to keep the lightheartedness in her voice. It was slipping. “The moon decided to give you the light at a great time, huh?” 

A weak smile was the response. “I wish it’d brought me here earlier,” she said. “I doubt my being here would’ve changed anything.” Stone coiled around her fingers, drifting down her hand, before wrapping around her wrist. “But I would’ve loved to have seen you all before.” 

“Before?” Haseul repeated. “We’re a lot more put together than before. I bet you would’ve hated me. I,” the words caught, “anger did none of us any favours.”

“I meant before that.” Vivi’s voice was quieter. “Before Hyejoo was banished.” She looked to the sky, which was a deeper orange. It was eerie in how she couldn’t see the stars, but still beautiful in its own right. “I wish I could’ve known how it was when you were all—” She closed . 

“What?” She reached for her hand, tapping the back of it once. “If you say something wrong, I’ll probably let you take it back.” 

Vivi just smiled, shaking her head. “It’s hard to find the right word, no matter what language I’d use.” She frowned. “I want to say you were happier, because Hyejoo was still there, but I couldn’t say if you were all,” she sighed, “happy is a difficult word for that.” 

“Then use better,” Haseul replied. “Chaewon and other two were definitely happier, but Jiwoo was still lying to the ones closest to her. Hyejoo had a home here and even though she wouldn’t have wanted it then, she didn’t have her magic. Yeojin and Heejin were free of their anger, but Heejin and Hyunjin couldn’t be what they are now.” She shrugged. “And even though the three were alright, Jungeun was still the person she is now.” 

“And you?”

Haseul didn’t know what to say. She’d been busy with something, probably negotiations for moonlight. There’d been a small insurrection among one of the witch covens too and that’d taken ten years to solve. 

There was the sound of stone scraping again. 

Haseul blinked and saw that Vivi was making something again. She glanced at her, a question there. 

“You don’t need to answer that.” 

“Everyone was alright,” Haseul said. “That’s all I wanted for us, so I was happy with that.”

Vivi looked at her, again with that thoughtful expression. “But?” 

She chuckled. “Don’t give me that look,” she looked away, “makes me feel like you’ve been here longer than you have.” 

“It’s started to feel like that.” 

Haseul wanted to think that was a good thing. A part of it was, but the rest wasn’t. It was mostly because of what Vivi had been dragged into when she’d arrived. She hadn’t seen them at their worst, but something close to it. 

And she’d still stayed. 

“Lots of my trips were like the one we’re going on, except no one knew what else I was doing,” Haseul said. “So I went on them alone. Other people manage it fine, and I still don’t know why they love it so much.” She wondered if she was saying too much, but it didn’t feel like it was. 

Vivi didn’t say anything. She was watching her with something similar to that look from before, except this seemed different. 

Haseul didn’t look at it long enough to spot the differences. She wasn’t sure if what she said next would sound pathetic or just sad. “I was lonely.”

It was quiet after that. Haseul didn’t like the silence. 

“It wasn’t that bad when I got back. It was the best when I did. We used to have a big space for our tents, a huge fire pit for eleven.” Haseul smiled at the memory. “I wish you could’ve been there to see it.” I wish you could’ve known who they were before. There were a few who’d changed, almost completely from the people they’d once been. 

“Jinsoul has a loud laugh,” Vivi said. 

Haseul straightened. “What?” She was right, but of all the things to say to that?

“She and Jungeun both have laughs you could hear from across the camp,” she said. “And I’ve heard Jinsoul’s only once.”

Haseul tried not to think about the pain the thought caused her. She’d only seen the aftermath, but Jinsoul had looked haunted when she’d seen her. 

“Jiwoo has a bright smile,” Vivi continued. “And almost every smile I’ve seen from her has never fully reached her eyes.” 

“Yeojin laughs loud too.” Haseul’s head felt heavy. “Have you ever heard that?” When she didn’t get an answer, she kept going. “Yerim might sometimes force it, but when it’s genuine, she’ll be the brightest presence you’ve ever seen, even without the light. Sooyoung will imitate anyone she can, for as long as she can. Jungeun screeches like a bird, mostly when she laughs, Hyunjin will make all sorts of animal noises and Heejin entertained it.” 

A hand closed around her own then. 

Haseul closed her eyes. “Hyejoo’s laugh sounded like a scream sometimes and her eyes used to shine with it.” Her eyes hadn’t stopped burning. “And even when she finally learned how to cook, Chaewon still burned the food she gave Sooyoung.” They’d all smiled. They’d all laughed. 

“That’ll come back,” Vivi said. “Not in the way you’re imagining it, because it never does, but something like it will come.” 

Haseul almost heard the underlying words there, even if Vivi didn’t mean for them to be there. 

As long as you come back. 

Haseul just put her other hand over Vivi’s. 

And Vivi leaned her head against hers, lightly brushing their foreheads together. 

Haseul smiled. It was a gesture common among the fae. 

Surprisingly, Vivi stayed there. Her eyes were closed. “Life among my people was good,” she said. “I enjoyed learning, being among my friends, some of my family.” A short pause. “But I can’t say I was happy.”

Haseul didn’t say anything this time. Vivi had done that for her. 

“I don’t know how it’ll be different here, or even if it’ll be as good as I’d managed to have it before,” Vivi sighed, “but the moon let me see one thing and your seers another.” A short laugh. Her eyes opened and they were both amused and distant. “I was meant to be here. For whatever reason, if the moon is sentient or not, my magic was going to change and I was going to come here.” 

It was strange to be so close. Haseul was used to closing the distance, but it didn’t feel right in this moment. Even if she wanted to, she just wanted to hear what else Vivi was willing to tell her. 

“And to be here,” Vivi’s eyes were searching hers, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing, not really, but I’m still relieved I’m here.” Her nose twitched slightly. It was oddly endearing. “Had I not been, I would’ve never known what was happening here and I would’ve barely known any of you.” 

“Things would’ve been so much different,” Haseul said then. “If you hadn’t been here, I don’t think she would’ve come here when we needed her.” She felt how Vivi’s brow furrowed. “I mean that. You were the one who found her. When Hyunjin got hurt, you were the one who could lead us to her. And when Jungeun needed her, we were already coming back with Hyejoo.”

“Do you think that was meant to happen too?”

“Maybe, but I don’t know,” Haseul admitted. “No one knew Hyejoo was going to come back, so I’d like to think it was our choices, her choices that got her to come home.” She smiled slightly. “And that includes you too.” 

Vivi returned it. 

She tightened her grip on her hand. “So I’m happy you’re here too, but not just because of that,” she said. “I just hope it’ll become something close to a home. Someday.” 

“I think it will,” Vivi replied. “Someday.” 

______

Jungeun was sleeping soundly. Jinsoul couldn’t have been more relieved. She didn’t move from where she was. She could hear Jungeun’s heart beat its steady rhythm and she could feel how her chest slowly rose and fell with her breathing. She wanted to look up and see, if only for a moment, that Jungeun’s eyes were still a bright red. She knew they were, but it didn’t stop her from wondering. 

Doubting, she corrected. Even though Jungeun had her light, even though she was able to wield it again, there was the thought that it would all leave her again. 

Jinsoul tried to dispel those worries. Hyejoo was in the camp. She’d be able to help her again. Jinsoul had her own light to give again. 

She wrapped her arms a bit tighter around Jungeun’s waist. Yerim had already woken up and gone somewhere. Jinsoul wondered if it was because she couldn’t sleep. Guilt gnawed at her again. Other than a meal yesterday, she hadn’t spoken with Yerim enough. She hadn’t been there enough. Again. 

Jungeun muttered something. It was practically intelligible, but just the sound helped calm her. 

I love you, Jinsoul wanted to say. The words had been coming to the surface more and more with each time she saw her. She’d wanted to say them before, and she wanted to say them now. 

She was almost certain that Jungeun didn’t want to hear them. 

Jungeun wasn’t dreaming. At least it wasn’t a nightmare. For that, Jinsoul was also grateful. They’d gotten less over the years. Jinsoul still remembered some of the one’s she’d seen. They almost felt like her own memories. She’d never told Jungeun just how intensely she’d seen a few of them. Jungeun would’ve never slept in the same tent as her again if she’d known. 

Then she shifted. 

Jinsoul sat up so she could move properly. 

Jungeun her side, facing her. Her face was devoid of tension. Immortality aside, she looked younger. Sometimes she looked like that when she was awake, but not as often as she should have. 

That was normal. 

It’s normal to worry, it’s normal to be afraid something’ll happen again. 

Jinsoul let herself reach out then. She brushed away some of the hair that was slowly drifting across Jungeun’s face. 

The ache was there. It stretched to , but even then, it was nothing compared to what she’d felt before. That ache meant that Jungeun was here. She didn’t want to think about what it would’ve felt like to not have her there at all. 

Jinsoul closed her eyes, trying to force those thoughts away. 

“You’re awake?” 

She turned to see Yerim at the tent’s entrance. 

“Dahyun’s here. She wanted to go see Hyejoo.” Her eyes drifted to Jungeun. One of them was still purple, the other black. One of Hyunjin’s had turned grey. Both of Hyejoo’s were still black. Chaewon’s had faded. “She’ll be here next.” Jinsoul wasn’t sure if Dahyun had told her that or if Yerim could see it. 

She just got up and pulled Yerim into her arms. 

“I’m sorry,” Jinsoul whispered. “For not being there enough.” She buried her face into Yerim’s hair. She smelled like the earth, coupled with the usual scents of flowers and fruit. “There’re so many things we have to talk about and I haven’t even let you say anything about one of them.” 

“It’s okay,” Yerim mumbled. “And we haven’t really had the time, or the emotional capacity for it.” 

“But with everything that’s happened.” Jinsoul pulled away, looking down at her. “How are you?” 

“Not that bad,” she laughed slightly, “but I can’t say it’s normal yet.” 

Jinsoul fixed her hair, poking her cheek once. 

“You’re not going to start babying me again, are you?” Yerim raised a brow. 

“Maybe.” Jinsoul tried not to pout, but she failed. “How’s your leg?” 

“Healed great,” she said. “I’m perfectly healthy.” 

“And the rest?” 

Yerim smiled. “I’m fine, Jinsoul.” Her brow furrowed. She didn’t even have to ask the question. 

“I’m okay,” Jinsoul replied. She glanced back, relieved when she saw that Jungeun was still asleep. “It’ll get better.” 

This time Yerim pulled her closer, arms tight around her waist. They stayed like that for a long time. 

“I love you,” Yerim said. “And you were always there, even if you were busy. If you weren’t, it’s because I didn’t want to add on to what was happening.” She jabbed her side, but the gesture was gentle. “And don’t say you would’ve always made time for me or something, because I already know that.” She leaned away enough to look at her. “So I need to tell you that I’ll do the same, for whatever it is, I need you to know that you can come to me. I don’t care if it’s because you can’t figure out some mortal invention or if you’re lovesick again. Anything.” Yerim held her gaze. “And I’m here.” 

Even if the lovesick comment wasn't something she'd wanted to hear, Jinsoul’s eyes started burning immediately.

There was a tiny laugh, before Yerim’s arms around her tightened. “I’ll never get why she thought you were intimidating.” She lifted her off the ground with the force of the hug. “You’re as scary as an otter.” 

Jinsoul just shook her head. She let the tears fall, but she pulled them off her face before they could soak into Yerim’s shoulder. “At least you didn’t call me a slug.” 

Then she pulled away, eyes on the ground. “Dahyun’ll be here in a bit.” She looked at Jungeun, gaze softening almost immediately. “She wants to see her too, I think.” 

It may help soothe that ache.

Jinsoul knew now that those emotions had been for the emptiness. Pale blue, orange, and purple. She should’ve realised it then. Dahyun had already prepared those emotions and made them weak enough so that Jungeun wouldn’t get sick from them. She’d known even before that Jungeun needed it. 

______

Olivia couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw her. She could feel the calm heighten in the forest in the next moment. That was another thing she’d missed. 

“You’re here?” 

Dahyun only smiled. “I missed you.” Her eyes were both green and blue. “I tried to look for you.”

“I know.” Olivia had been able to sense her presence, even from further away. She’d always left. Fled might’ve been the actual word for it. “It would’ve hurt you to see it.” And Dahyun usually tried to help how she could, even if she wasn’t technically allowed to. She’d always made exceptions for the Astra, even going as far as trying to find out if Olivia’s emotions had been the reason she hadn’t been able to control the light. At one point, she’d even given Olivia a piece of calm, one that’d nearly knocked her unconscious. She’d been in a calm daze for days after. 

Dahyun looked at her now without really seeing her. She was looking at her emotions. 

Olivia had gotten into a small fight before when another fairy had tried that. She’d let her anger come to the forefront, knowing it would burn him. She didn’t let any of that anger come now. She trusted Dahyun enough for that. Most of them did. 

“But is it better?” the fairy asked. “You still feel at home here, even now.” 

“Because the people who made it home are still here,” Olivia said. 

Dahyun’s eyes saddened further. 

“Don’t say it,” she shook her head, “I don’t want to talk about them.” 

“Alright.” Dahyun sat down beside her. She wore clothes that looked like pale blue linen. They were made of calm. She’d woven them herself. “Then what?” 

Olivia frowned at her. “Aren’t you here for something?”

“Here among you,” Dahyun nodded, “here with you, I just wanted to see how you were.” 

She looked away. If she was anything, Dahyun was honest. Like many of the emotional fae, she didn’t hide her own emotions, but she also didn’t hide her thoughts much either. 

“And I have seen that now, but leaving immediately after is rude, is it not?” The corner of her lip tugged up. “Or is that another bit of elven etiquette I misunderstood?”

“That’d be general etiquette,” Olivia threw back. “Even a human would think that’s rude.” Then she looked at Dahyun’s hair. There were swathes of dark and light blue. Those were usually there. What joined them was gold and green. That was a good sign. It meant she was in the middle of following a new idea of hers. That kind of an endeavour never failed to make her happy. 

Olivia almost resented her. That died before she could even feel it. Her own life might’ve changed, but that didn’t mean the rest had to. It was good if they didn’t. 

And Dahyun deserved to have her days filled with curiosity and the glee that joined it. 

“You felt a series of things in a very short amount of time,” Dahyun said. Her eyes were a confused gold. Olivia wondered if it was some sort of joke within the magic that confusion and curiosity were almost the same exact colour. “Remember, I can barely read your face and there hasn’t really been a change in it in the last moments either.” 

Olivia laughed. “Haven’t you been working on that?” 

She raised a brow. “For what reason? I can see everything I need to.” 

“But I can read your face almost too well,” Olivia pointed at it, “it’d help when you’re trying not to look into someone’s head.” 

“I know.” Dahyun’s voice was almost a whine. “But it is like learning a new language. I have other things I would like to know. Other languages as well. Subjects too. Did you know the mortals made something that can tell you how much time has passed?” Her eyes lit up. Literally, with green and bright yellow. “They fill it with sand and it falls perfectly in line with a specific amount of time.” 

Olivia tried to match the enthusiasm. “What do they use it for?” 

“I have no idea.” Dahyun’s smile grew. “But when I saw it first, I took one to see if there was a mechanism I missed.” 

“Took it,” she repeated. 

Dahyun’s cheeks turned a light pink. 

Olivia fought a smile. Dahyun was almost too expressive. If she trusted you, she was even more so, and honest to a near fault. It was something all of them loved about her. 

“Extended loan,” Dahyun said. “But when I came back, mortality had taken its course.” She grimaced, eyes turning blue again. “I thought not much time had passed.” 

That was another thing. If time blended together for them, it was sometimes a mess for the emotional fae. Olivia had no idea how it worked, but sometimes what seemed like an hour for them could turn into ten. It usually ended up bleeding together because of how deeply they looked into ‘the emotional world’. Apparently, there were layers to their reality, one of which included emotions. 

Thinking about that gave Olivia a headache, so she’d made a note never to ask about it again. Jinsoul had once made a meal last almost two hours longer because she’d wanted to try and actually understand the emotional world. It’d started a discussion. A big one. 

“But if I understood it correctly,” Dahyun looked hesitant now, “you also had some loans of that sort.” 

“I stole from them,” Olivia corrected. “And it wasn’t for research, but for a payment.” 

“And what did the theft do for them? I know it was not all money.” 

“Information and other things,” Olivia said. “To get more money, or some sort of power. I didn’t understand it.” 

“But you still helped.” Dahyun’s brow furrowed. 

She was just trying to understand, but Olivia still felt ashamed. 

“What will you do here?” Dahyun asked. “Will you fight Alluin? Or is that small sense of family going to matter?” 

Olivia grimaced. “Easy questions tonight, aren’t they?”

She shook her head. “I think they would let you keep away from the conflict, if you needed to.” 

A part of her doubted it. The rest of her knew Haseul and Heejin wouldn’t let them force her. 

“It won’t matter,” she said. “He’s let some of the worst people who follow him come here. He’d send all of them.” She thought of Yerim and Hyunjin, of Jungeun. “So I’ll stop them.” They all had anger, hatred, as well as cruelty. Olivia knew how to control some of it. She knew how to use it against them, even if it hurt to wield it. 

She just didn’t know if telling Hyunjin and Yerim how to do it was the right decision or not. They’d use it if they had to, but would it overwhelm them? Olivia didn’t know where the limits were for them. Their darkness was different to Alluin’s and her own. Could they handle more? Or less?

“Again,” Dahyun got to her feet, “another series of thoughts.” She put a hand to Olivia’s shoulder. “Anything I could help with?” 

Olivia shook her head. “Not this time.” She pushed herself to stand as well and hugged her. 

Dahyun didn’t stiffen, but her arms were awkwardly placed as she hugged her back. 

Olivia had to laugh. “You need to learn how to do this too,” she said. “How’re you going to handle Yerim when she gets to that point with you?” How did you handle Jiwoo? She nearly asked that, but the words didn't come.

Dahyun raised a brow, eyes green and gold. “I have no answer to that.” A flicker of amusement then. “But that is a problem I will handle when it comes to that.” She smiled at her. “Though I actually will see her next.” 

“Yerim? Was something wrong?” 

She shook her head. “Haseul told me she is healed since that attack, but also that she has changed as well.” A deep gold appeared in her eyes. “Now I will see if that is any different to what you have.” 

“What I have?” Olivia repeated. 

Dahyun only nodded. “With your magic having so many variations within itself, there will be similarities, but certainly differences as well.” She frowned slightly. “But from what I can see, even from here, is that none of you are really like those malevolent dark spirits. Just as none of those with light seem to share much of anything with the malevolent light.” She sighed. “I have tried to find out more about those spirits, but it is difficult.” 

Olivia closed her eyes, sending out a small call through the shadows. “Wait a second.” 

Pause. “Yes?”

Olivia scoffed. “That’s too childish. Even for you.” Strictly by age, she was older than Dahyun. When it came to other things, she felt as if she were far behind. 

Then Rai was running up to them. His eyes were still their pale green. Just seeing them reminded Olivia that his eyes outshone the other person’s. They looked more alive. 

Dahyun yelped when he came up to her. “You turned him?” She stepped back, eying him with grey and yellow eyes. 

“How do you know that?” Olivia asked. 

“I can see your emotions in him,” Dahyun said. “There is a link without there being a tie.” 

Olivia gave her a look. “I don’t understand that stuff when you say it like that.” 

She chuckled quietly, still staring at the wolf. “I know you two are bound.” 

“Yerim has a connection to one, so does Hyunjin. Both were saved by theirs. And we think they lost their magic at around the same time.” 

“Did the spirits take it?”

Olivia shook her head. “Hyunjin lost hers because she took in too much darkness. Yerim lost hers because she’d used too much of her magic, and there was too much of the other light.” 

Dahyun just looked confused. “Is there a chance you would write that down?” 

Olivia fought the urge to laugh. “I could try.” 

She looked back at the spirit. Then her eyes widened. “You’re his family.” 

“What?” Olivia looked back at the wolf, who was looking between them. He almost looked confused. 

“He has his own emotions,” Dahyun said. “At least the ones that make him what he is.” She frowned. “But those, not the ones you gave him, they go to you. The same I would see among friends, or family.” 

She decided against telling her about how many times she’d cursed the wolf out before giving him a name. She also didn’t tell her that she’d thrown rocks at him. 

“Fascinating!” Dahyun laughed. “I cannot tell you what any of it means, but I will try to find it out.” 

With one final, slightly awkward, hug, Dahyun was going back to the camp. 

Olivia still felt calm. It was Dahyun’s gift whenever she was near. 

Rai sat down at her feet, looking up at her with eyes that she should’ve hated seeing. She just felt heavy looking into them. 

“So we’re friends?” Olivia knelt down on the ground in front of him. She fed him a piece of a shadow. “Somehow.” She frowned as he her palm. It was cold, but she felt the same calm she was used to feeling around someone else. Someone whose eyes he had. 

______

“It’s incredible,” Dahyun breathed out. Her gaze was full of awe as she looked at the darkness Yerim had given her. “When I look for what it’s made of, it is potent. Full to the brim of emotion.” Then she blinked and met their eyes. “Sorry,” she muttered. “It is only that, well, Hyejoo had the same, but this,” she trailed off, “I did not ask her to show me. That was not what we spoke about.” 

Jinsoul almost asked, but again, it wasn’t her place to know. Hyejoo would tell them if it was important. 

“And what emotion?” Yerim asked. “I felt so much calmer with it, but that’s a bright emotion.” 

Dahyun gave it back to her. It sank into Yerim’s skin, colouring it dark for a moment, before vanishing. 

“It might be better to show you.” The fairy lifted her hands. Wisps of emotions appeared in the air. Jinsoul saw dark blue and immediately felt the heaviness in her mind. When she looked to the person beside her, her eyes were on the red. “I can feel a multitude, so this is not all of it.” Dahyun pressed her hands together. All of the emotions melded together. “There’s calm, yes, but also fear and anger. I’d argue those were bright emotions, while happiness is a darker one, but so much more positive.” 

They watched as the emotions were pressed further into one another. Their colours mixed, but if Jinsoul looked closely enough, she saw that they were still separate. When they melded even further, the mass had become so similar to the darkness. 

“And there is a lot of sadness,” Dahyun said. “I saw that in Hyejoo before, but now it is more pronounced. I cannot explain it all, but many of your spirits, the ones that are not malevolent, but dark—the sadness is still a large part of them.” 

Jungeun frowned. “So all of that’s just there?” She pointed at it. “Does it feel like that?” She looked to Yerim, worry just under the surface. 

Yerim was already shaking her head. “If I concentrate, yeah, I can feel it, but it’s mostly just calm and a bit of a heaviness.” 

“Sadness,” Dahyun nodded, “it’s something you grow used to.” Then she pursed her lips, eyes shining gold. Curiosity. “I wonder why it’s so similar.” 

Calm and sadness. Light and dark blue. They were Dahyun’s core emotions. Sadness had come later. 

Jinsoul’s eyes widened when she realised. “How?” 

Dahyun looked up, yellow surprise joining the gold. “What do you mean?” 

“You said our light has a lot of calm, right?” Jinsoul summoned a piece. “And then the darkness has sadness.” She held it up beside the emotions Dahyun had summoned. “So they’re linked. They must be, and they’re also linked in you.” 

“Chaewon as well.” A flicker of dark blue appeared, before it faded. “I admit, I thought it was simply a coincidence when it came to the colours.” Then the gold was back. “But I wouldn’t know what it is supposed to mean.” 

Jinsoul fought a sigh. “Then we probably won’t either.” Then she straightened. “But is that why you’re here?” 

The change was immediate. Dahyun’s eyes turned a dark blue, before silver soon joined it. Worry. 

Dahyun sighed, shaking her head. “Someone I know is with Alluin. Someone I don't think Hyejoo would have seen."  

“Someone you know,” Jungeun frowned, “another fairy?" She looked to Jinsoul. 

She realised then that Jungeun hadn't heard about who else was in Alluin's group. 

Dahyun nodded. “Etera.”

Jinsoul watched as Jungeun’s eyes widened. She looked scared.

Dahyun shook her head again. “She’ll have had no part in the violence. She’s one of the people who just wanted a place.” 

“Who’s Etera?” Jinsoul asked. She’d barely had much to do with the emotional fae. Dahyun was the first she’d actually talked to beyond a simple greeting when she’d been called into help once. 

“She left my people,” Dahyun replied. “When she fell in love with an elf.” 

“I thought you—“ Jinsoul cut herself off then. She wouldn’t dangle rumours in Dahyun’s face, not if she didn’t know if they were true or not. 

Then the fairy smiled, but it looked sad. “We don’t have it, not really.” Her gaze flickered. “And some have even used it, let it go completely.” 

“And she didn’t?” 

Dahyun shook her head. “There were more reasons why she left, not only that. And now she’s there, and she would be the last person to come here to hurt any of you.” She met both their eyes. “You must believe me.” 

“When did you find out she was there?” Jungeun asked. She didn’t look as scared as before, but it still wasn’t all gone. 

To face an emotional fae, it was dangerous. Jungeun was one of the obvious targets too. Hyejoo and Chaewon would be as well if they were there. If this Etera was dangerous. 

“Only recently. She’d been among the mountain elves for the longest time, but now she and her companion, they went to him.”

“Is there anyone else you know of there?" Jungeun asked, her voice a bit shaky.

Jinsoul inched a bit closer to Jungeun. She didn’t take her hand, but she made sure to brush her shoulder. If only to be a small reassurance. 

She caught Yerim’s eye, only to see the worry there. 

“There’s one other.” Dahyun nodded. “He’d left after—“ Her eyes turned a deep blue then. “After his son died.” 

Jinsoul felt Jungeun stiffen. “You mean the one they killed.” 

The shame on Dahyun’s face couldn’t be mistaken. Then she met Jinsoul’s eyes, as well s Yerim’s. “It was a boy who’d been born with grief.” She looked away. “A part of the decision was because he would’ve suffered all his life. The other was because we were afraid he’d be like Tresteu.”

The emotional fae who’d attacked the Astra before. The one whose emotion had been anger. 

Jinsoul didn’t see the change, but she felt it. It was like a hole had opened in her chest. The ache there wasn’t the one she’d grown used to, but another kind. And she knew full well that it wasn’t from herself. 

“We’ll never know if we were right or wrong. We asked all those who could see the future to look, and all they saw was that grief. Some saw him bring it to others, others saw that he only felt it.” Dahyun sank further into herself. “Don’t tell Hyejoo of this story,” she whispered. Her eyes were a combination of several emotions Jinsoul didn’t recognise. She saw traces of black and blue most of all. Did she still grieve this boy? A boy who hadn’t even had the chance to try and be different? 

“How old were you even when it happened?” Yerim asked. 

“I hadn’t been born.” Dahyun still didn’t look at them. 

“Then you didn’t have a part in it.” Jungeun’s voice had softened, even if Jinsoul could still feel that strange pain coming from her. 

“I might also bring something terrible upon my people,” she replied. “The other emotion only came later to me.” She pointed at the dark blue in her hair. “With how your people say fate works, that still frightens me.” 

Jungeun shook her head. “Don’t forget the good it brings. You helped Yerim with that same emotion. You,” she hesitated, “helped me with it too.” 

Jinsoul tried to ignore the surprise she felt then. 

Dahyun didn’t. She met her eyes once. 

“You’d never purposefully bring anything like that to anyone,” Jungeun said. “I don’t need to see the future to know that.” She smiled. It wasn’t the grin Jinsoul tended to see, but rather one she’d seen a lot in the beginning. It was reassuring, but also joined by an unwavering certainty. 

Jinsoul saw that Yerim wanted to say something, her eyes b with sympathy. She didn’t. 

Her being a seer was still a secret. Dahyun could be trusted, but they could still be overheard. 

When Dahyun’s eyes lifted to meet theirs, Jinsoul’s heart sank. She recognised that expression. She’d seen it in a few people now. She’d seen it in Chaewon too. 

The fairy nodded once. “Thank you.” She got to her feet, eyes catching on something then. Yellow started to dominate her irises. Then gold. 

“What?” Jungeun raised a brow. “A new theory?” 

Jinsoul nearly smiled at how Jungeun had come to know Dahyun well enough to pick up on those things. Dahyun didn’t usually hide what she was feeling, nor did she really hide her expressions either, but a lot of the time, her mind tended to jump from one speculation to the next, usually something neither of them understood. 

“An old one,” Dahyun replied. She looked between them. “It was one of Etera’s actually.” Her brow furrowed. “It really is the strangest thing,” she muttered. “It’s almost as if you are tied together.” 

Jinsoul frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“There’s so much purple and green between you,” she replied. “You know what those emotions are, or?” Her eyes flicked to Yerim in the next moment, confusion flashing in them. “I have talked about them enough, or were you not there for the lessons?” 

Jinsoul didn’t look Jungeun’s way. 

“I’ve only ever seen that sort of thing a few times. Between Heejin and Hyunjin, Jiwoo and Sooyoung,” Dahyun trailed off. Then she shook her head. “Speaking of, I need to go see Chaewon.” She gave them both a warm smile. “I hope you’ll both feel alright soon and,” she sighed, “you don’t have to bring Etera back to us. Only ensure she and her partner are safe. I told Haseul as much, but—” Her gaze went to Jungeun. "I needed you to know that." 

Jinsoul knew Dahyun didn't mean to, but it was another nod at how Jungeun did this sort of thing. It was a plea for her to have mercy. 

“And the other one?” Jungeun asked. There hadn't been a change in her expression. 

Dahyun stiffened. “If you can, please let him live.” Her eyes were fully blue now. “He is only grieving, but what happened to Alluin,” she shook her head, “it was too similar. He will not change.” 

______

“I just don’t understand,” Sooyoung put her head in her hands, “we’re practically at war. We need to be focusing on finding where they could be next, not the spirits. We’re just exposing ourselves that way.” 

She’d just come back from one of the meetings. The exhaustion had been clear even from far away. The extensive disagreements hadn’t helped much either. It’d been going on for the last three days. 

Jiwoo handed her a plate of food. “Eline’s telling us to try mapping out safe routes,” she said. “I don’t know how useful that’ll end up being, but it’ll be better than nothing.” 

“She dragged you into that?” Sooyoung looked up. Dread filled her eyes. “Does that mean—” 

“They wanted to,” Jiwoo replied, “but I’m still going to be leaving camp. Like normal.”

She relaxed.

Jiwoo was surprised she’d have been afraid of that. A part of her had thought Sooyoung would’ve been hoping for that. 

“I’ll be more useful out there,” she said. “Learning to look out for things out there, you see the immediate changes faster. Yerim’s got that too and Kolina’s been learning it since the spirits started changing.” 

“All the seers should have that,” Sooyoung replied. She started eating, relaxing further against the trunk she was leaning on. “Thanks.” She nodded at the food. “You didn’t have to heat it up again.” 

“I didn’t.” She didn't tell her that she'd known when Sooyoung would come. 

Sooyoung frowned. “That whole thing went on longer than we thought it would.”

“I knew that.” They were still learning to talk about the sight naturally. Sooyoung’s voice didn’t get an edge to it when it came up, not even now. 

Sooyoung’s expression softened. “So you had good timing with this?” She nodded at her plate. 

“Maybe.”

When the two of them fell silent, Jiwoo turned her attention to the paths. Sooyoung would be staying here for a while, as would she. Chaewon was somewhere else. Dahyun would join her soon. After that she'd go back to the tent. The past days had drained her. She also had less light than normal, but it was building up again. 

Jiwoo could see that her path was going to cross with Hyejoo’s again. That had kept fluctuating in the past few days, as if one of them was torn between seeing the other and not. It sometimes made her nervous, because she didn’t know what it would mean for either of them. 

“Where are you?” Sooyoung’s brow had risen slightly. Jiwoo could almost feel the hesitance in her. 

No, she could actually feel it, courtesy of the bond. 

“Haseul’s still going to go,” Jiwoo said. “I keep hoping she’ll change her mind.” 

“Me too.” Sooyoung nodded. “Have you seen a change with Heejin yet?”

She tried to ignore how the words cut at her. She'd seen it. Of course she had. 

Sooyoung sat up then, eyes wide. “Wait, I didn't—”

“It’s fainter,” she said. “I don’t think it was ever as bright as some of the rest I saw, but this made it even more obvious. Probably something that happens when—” She almost wished she hadn’t answered in the first place. She forced herself to finish that sentence. “When both reject it.” She kept her attention on her food. 

Sooyoung didn’t reply. Whatever little bit of peace they’d managed to get was gone. At least it was for Jiwoo. 

She didn’t look for the paths. She didn’t want to know if Sooyoung was going to walk away now or not. She’d just wait. 

“What about ours?” 

Jiwoo made herself look up. 

Sooyoung was looking back at her. She didn’t look cold, but her expression also wasn’t encouraging or warm. 

Jiwoo forced herself to find a response, because she had compared it. She’d tried to find a change in their bond for years. “It’s still brighter,” she said. “But a part of that’s just because we’re sitting like this.” She gestured between them. 

“But even if we weren’t, would it still be brighter?” Sooyoung sounded careful. 

It felt like she was about to tell Sooyoung everything she didn’t want to hear. It wasn’t anything Jiwoo wanted to say. 

So she just nodded. The path had barely faded. 

“Is that bad?” 

“Bright means it’s still there and it’s not getting any weaker,” Jiwoo replied. She forced her voice to soften. “So that all depends on what you want.” She looked back at her food. It was cold. She made the bowl float above the fire to warm it again. 

“I don’t want to lose the bond.”

The bowl fell into the flames, the rest of the food starting to burn in the next moment. 

Again, Jiwoo looked at Sooyoung, trying to see if there was something else. She looked for a sign that this was false, that it was some sort of vision or fanciful dream. She found nothing. 

“You never asked me what I thought about it,” Sooyoung said quietly. “You never considered that I’d want that bond.” 

Jiwoo shook her head. “You hated how the bond was forced upon Heejin, tearing her away from the person she loved. You said it took away our freedom.” She stared at the food that was slowly crumbling in the fire. “You were so happy when you heard that the future was fluid,” she said. “So I thought it was obvious that you wouldn’t want this.” 

“I meant having a bond with anyone,” Sooyoung replied. “A bond where I’d be expected to love the person on the other side of it—where I’d be insulting the moon if I didn’t.”

Jiwoo almost laughed. “You wouldn’t have gone along with it anyway.”

Sooyoung nodded. “You’re right.” 

She felt a pang of hurt. Maybe the bond would’ve already been gone by now had she just told her sooner. 

“Why didn’t you want it?” 

Jiwoo frowned. “I already told you.” 

“Tell me again then,” Sooyoung said. “I was angry before. You were too. We didn’t get to say everything.” Her voice had softened. 

Jiwoo felt a familiar pain just hearing it. It had gotten worse over the years, but it’d started as a pressure. She wasn’t sure what the reason was for it getting stronger. It should’ve gotten weaker. 

The reminder encouraged her to be honest. “Everything that comes with it, feeling better, safe—we were always so close, but how can we be sure it wasn’t a result of the bond? It might’ve just been the bond acting, but nothing I did, or that you truly felt.”

She risked a glance her way. Somehow, Sooyoung looked wounded at that. 

Jiwoo could only stare. Sooyoung’s expression was completely open, showing both her happiness and a little bit of doubt. She was honest in even that. 

It scared her. 

Jiwoo had always lied. There’d been too many times where she’d looked at the people she loved and avoided telling them the truth with each word. 

And Sooyoung bared everything, from her words to her emotions. 

“Listen to me,” Sooyoung said. “Please.”

Jiwoo didn’t reply. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say. 

“I hated what happened to Heejin and Hyunjin and I never wanted something like that.” 

She nodded. They’d been apart and Hyunjin hadn’t felt safe enough to try and mend that bridge. Heejin had wanted to.

Sooyoung gave her a look. “Wait.” She got up and came over to her. “What I did want,” she murmured, crouching down in front of her, “was for them to have a bond with each other.” She took her hand. “I’d always thought that would have been beautiful.” 

“But that choice was gone,” Jiwoo said. 

“You said that the future changes based on our choices,” she replied. “And Heejin had never loved Priad that way. The bond had never swayed her into looking at him like she did Hyunjin.” She looked at their hands. “And she’s turning away from it now. It had no power over her.”

Jiwoo wanted to disagree. She wasn’t sure if it was an impulse she’d grown to have over the years, or something she actually felt. 

So she didn’t say a word. 

Sooyoung met her eyes again. “Did you know they had a bond before it was announced?”

Jiwoo nodded. 

“Then why couldn’t you see that the bond hadn’t made a difference?” Her voice trembled at the end. “We all knew who Heejin actually loved and we knew the moon was wrong there.” Then she frowned. “So why do you think the bond would’ve influenced either of us?”

Jiwoo’s eyes started to burn. 

“I could’ve loved other people, just like you could have,” Sooyoung continued. “But when we both tried, I think it might’ve hurt you just as much as it did me.” 

“What do you mean?” The words were hard to say. was too tight. The pain was getting stronger. Jiwoo could see the bond, half in her vision and half out of it, almost as if it was taunting her.

“It wasn’t the bond that stopped that from happening. The bond not fading away wasn’t because the moon wanted it to happen.” Sooyoung rose a bit from where she was. “And I think you wanted to believe that it was just the moon that wanted it, so you could convince yourself that we were being forced together.” She reached for her other hand. “You didn’t even think that I stayed, because I wanted to be around you.” 

“Stayed?” Jiwoo repeated. She could only focus on Sooyoung’s words. It distracted from the pinpricks that had stretched to her fingers. 

“Even if something was drawing me to you,” Sooyoung started, “I could’ve walked away again, but I didn’t. If the bond’s a reason for anything, it’s the ache I felt when I knew you were lying to me.” Her brow twitched into a small frown. “If the moon was trying to push me to you, then you pushing me away shouldn’t have been possible.” She looked at her for a long moment. “Is anything that I’m saying making sense?” A hint of uncertainty was in her voice. Nothing she was used to with Sooyoung. 

“A little,” Jiwoo muttered. “I didn’t think you’d have so much to say about this. You never did when others brought it up.” 

She laughed softly. “Because it didn’t affect me. At least I thought it didn’t.” 

Jiwoo looked away. 

“It still hurts that I didn’t know—and I don’t just mean the bond. Your sight, having to lie to everyone else, you weren’t happy.” One hand came up to her face. “I knew you were hiding something, but I never asked. Not really.” 

“Don’t say it like that,” Jiwoo said. “You’re making it sound like you could’ve changed it. I would’ve probably still kept it a secret.” She felt ashamed admitting it. 

“Maybe.” Sooyoung’s thumb brushed across her cheek. “But I would’ve asked and annoyed you for years until you told me the truth.” 

"Maybe," she echoed. 

Sooyoung was just looking at her now. 

She couldn't hold her gaze. The pain was around , pressing down on it. 

"Jiwoo." A pause. "Do you still want the bond? If I wanted it, would that change anything?" There was the uncertainty again. 

"I lied to you," Jiwoo said. "For so much of our lives, I was lying to you." 

"I know, and I told you, that'll take some time for me to forgive that." Sooyoung frowned. "But I understand why." 

The next moment stretched out for too long. Jiwoo swallowed, trying to relieve the pressure. The bond was almost blinding. 

"Are there any more lies?" Sooyoung asked. "Or was that it?" It sounded like it was meant as a joke, but there was a flicker of doubt. 

"That's it, I promise." Jiwoo didn't have the energy to lie anymore. 

"Then?" Sooyoung tilted her head up, lightly pressing on her nose with her thumb this time. "What else?" she asked. "What's another reason I shouldn't want the bond?"

She frowned at her. Was she being serious?

Slowly, a smile spread out across Sooyoung's face. Even though it was shaky, it was breathtaking. "I want to know if all you're feeling is the bond," she said. "Or if it's like how it was for me, before I knew the bond existed, and afterwards." 

Jiwoo felt the pain subside. Just enough so that she could speak. "What I felt was never a part of the bond." 

The smile faltered. "Felt?"

Jiwoo caught Sooyoung's hand before it could fall away. "I still do." 

Complete relief appeared on her face. "Yeah?" Her voice was barely a breath. 

Jiwoo nodded. 

Sooyoung immediately pulled her into an embrace, almost managing to push the both of them over. 

Jiwoo couldn't help but laugh as she steadied them. It eased the pain a bit more. 

Sooyoung pressed a kiss to her neck. It was affectionate, almost like a kiss to the cheek would have been. "I almost didn't think you would," she whispered. When she pulled away, her eyes were shining. 

"Why not?"

"You were pushing me away more after I knew the truth than before." Sooyoung's smile faltered again. "You were actually having to face what we were, and I thought you'd just turn away from it." 

Jiwoo shook her head. She was a moment away from crying. She held them back. "I wouldn't have. Ever." 

Sooyoung sat down next to her. The only contact was through their hands. "Me neither." 

Jiwoo leaned to the side, letting her head rest on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Soo. For all of it." 

"It'll be okay." An arm went around her shoulders. "We'll be okay." She wasn't just speaking about the two of them. 

Jiwoo nodded. "I hope so." 

They hadn't said the words, or done anything else that might've truly sealed the bond, but it was more than enough. Jiwoo still wondered if it was a dream. 

Sooyoung convinced her it wasn't when she asked, laughing softly and giving her the food she hadn't eaten. "Sorry for making you burn the food." 

"I hadn't really had an appetite then." Jiwoo took a bite, before giving Sooyoung one. "Do you really think we'll be okay?" 

"I have to," Sooyoung said. "You're both moping enough as it is." 

She elbowed her. 

Sooyoung chuckled, but her next words were serious again. "I know what's happening now. All we can do is try what we can. We all know a little more about what's going on. That has to mean something." 

"It does," Jiwoo said. 

She pulled her closer. "I missed you." 

Jiwoo closed her eyes. The pain had subsided to an ache now. "So did I." 

______

“You don’t look any better.” 

Gowon snorted. “Just say I look terrible.” 

Dahyun smiled. “But your humour is a bit stronger now.”

She raised a brow. “And you could’ve just said I wasn’t funny before.” 

“That,” gold entered her eyes, “that wasn’t what I meant.”

“I know, Darie,” she squeezed her arm lightly, “I was just joking.” 

“Ah,” Dahyun said, “the humour that doesn’t quite sound like a joke, but still is.” 

“There’s a word for that.” Gowon smiled. It was a little easier when Dahyun was around. Maybe it was the calm she always had around her, or the occasional moments of complete cluelessness. “What’s that?” She pointed at the bit of paper Dahyun was holding. There was an almost intelligible scrawl on it. 

“A description of what happened to Hyunjin and Yerim,” Dahyun looked at it, “I asked Hyejoo to—” She broke off, dark blue immediately appearing. “I apologise, I—”

“It’s fine,” Gowon said, forcing her next smile. “It’s not as if her name’s a taboo.”

Dahyun frowned slightly. “Even I know when you try to lie with your emotions,” she said. “And you know it does not work with me.” 

Gowon sighed. 

“Do you still feel that emptiness?” 

She forced down her frustration at the question, even if Dahyun would be able to see it. Like Jiwoo and Sooyoung, Dahyun didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of her anger. Gowon just hoped she could hold back the other things she wanted to say. “I thought we established that it’s not going to go away in a few weeks.” 

“I know,” Dahyun nodded, “but that was before she came back.”

Gowon knew it wasn’t fair, but she needed to look away. “So that’s why you’re here?” 

“I was asked to come for various reasons,” Dahyun said, “though I do think that was one of them.” 

“It doesn’t have to be,” she told her. “Thank you for still coming here, but no amount of knowing what emotions are there, or whatever else, will help.” She tried to ignore how just saying the words made her heart feel even heavier. 

“She still cares for you,” Dahyun said. “I saw those emotions. They were still there. Still vibrant.”

Gowon shook her head. “That doesn’t matter.” 

“I would think it does.”

Gowon tried not to get angry. “Her hatred beats out those other ones.” 

“That isn’t how it works,” Dahyun replied. “Those emotions all surge when you see the person for which you feel them. Whichever emotion is the most connected to your thoughts in the present will win out.” 

The way the fairy described it, with a hopeful tone and earnest expression, Gowon couldn’t bring herself to tell her to stop. 

“But you know which one would come,” she said. “So do I.” Gowon's eyes burned, but she ignored it. “Who did you have to see next?"

Dahyun looked at her, half actually seeing her, but also looking at her emotions. 

There wasn’t much else she could hide around the fairy. Even though she didn’t like it, it was comforting in its own way. 

“It hurts to talk about this,” Gowon admitted. “And I’ve been reaching my limit.” 

Dahyun’s eyes were blue. Gowon wished she could’ve just hid the colour. 

Then the fairy moved to kneel in front of her. She held out a hand. 

"You're not taking anything from me." Gowon tried to keep her voice gentle. 

"I won't." 

Gowon took her hand. She felt a slow warmth start to form in her hand. It was almost like the one she felt with the light, but it lacked the other part, the one that left her tired. 

Dahyun's eyes had turned a lighter blue. She pulled her hand away. 

In Gowon's palm lay a piece of pale blue. It was so familiar, making her think of a quiet mountainside where the only sound was the rustling wind. 

"Do you feel tired?" Dahyun asked. 

She shook her head. She felt a little bit stronger, so much more relaxed. "I can think," she chuckled, "and I don't want to kick you out of the forest anymore." 

Dahyun's smile was relieved. "It worked." 

"What did?" She looked at the piece of calm in her hand. It pulsed gently. She felt a tiny sliver of peace just looking at it. 

Then it lifted into the air and dissolved, the pale blue smoke flowing to her heart. The warmth came there too. It didn't take away any of the emptiness, but a small part of the heaviness. 

"That was mine," Dahyun said. "Calm. One part of the darkness, one part of your light." 

Gowon realised why it was so familiar. "Take it back," she took her hand, "you can't give me that. Take it before I waste it." 

She only shook her head. "You won't." She patted her hand before pulling away. "I cannot give you any more than that, but I think it is that which you're missing," she said. "Look for it. Whenever you find it, take more of it." She smiled down at her. "And when you're better, I'll come back and retrieve what I gave you. When you're better, you won't miss it." 

And then she was walking away. 

Gowon held a hand to her chest, wondering if she could pull the emotion out. It'd settled into her heart, letting it beat a bit easier. 

Dahyun hadn't tried to ease the pain this time. She'd managed to do something else. 

She'd given her a small taste of peace. 

______

Gowon was looking up at the sky. Her eyes were dim, but they still reflected the moonlight. 

Olivia was overcome with a wave of homesickness just seeing her. 

Then she looked away from the moon, her eyes widening when she saw her. 

“I just,” Olivia raised a hand, “need to talk.” 

Gowon looked away. She stared at her hands now. 

“Why could I sense that you killed Torrin?” 

“You could?” Gowon’s voice was quiet. 

“Don’t talk around this,” Olivia said. 

“You’re just asking me, because you’re hoping it’s not true,” she replied. 

Silence. 

“There was a bond,” her voice grew quieter, “but it’s not there anymore.” 

Olivia could still feel it. 

“It’s broken,” Gowon went on. “Whatever you’re feeling, it’s just what’s leftover.” 

She didn’t say it, but Olivia could almost hear what came next. 

It’s nothing. 

“How long have you known?” 

“Since the day I broke it,” she said, a slight harshness in her voice. 

Olivia could feel how the darkness both in and around her sharpened with it. This wasn’t the anger she was supposed to have. 

And then it eased again. Gowon's eyes softened, but they didn't reveal kindness again. She just lifted a hand to her chest, fingers tracing the fabric there. 

“What else did you want to know?” Gowon asked, once again calm. “There’s nothing any of us can hide anymore.” 

She waited for her anger to come. It never did. 

“What’s happening to you?” Olivia asked. “Did you get that darkness after it broke?” Then she remembered something else Gowon had said that day. “Did you actually manage to take some of it?”  

Gowon stood. “Didn’t you listen?” she asked. “My magic was tainted from the beginning. I could see the darkness from the beginning.” She shook her head. “I always had it.” 

She felt a weight in her chest then. Whatever the change in Gowon had been, it'd needed something to trigger it. That had been Olivia's darkness. 

And they’d had a bond. Not just what the moon had given them. 

But if they’d both had the darkness, then the moon had given them a false future, hadn’t it? 

“I just have less light now. That’s all,” Gowon said. “What else do you have to hear?” Her eyes were glassy. “Is the light coming back for you? Are you trying to think of a way Hyunjin can get it back? Because I don’t know anything about that.” She grit her teeth, frustration and anger filling her gaze. The shadows flew across the ground, going straight for Gowon. 

Olivia pulled them back. She gasped when she felt the emotion in them. The anger wasn’t directed at Olivia. 

The shadows were ripped from her grasp. 

She watched as Gowon pulled them from the earth. She was looking at them, pressed in a line. "Didn't help everything did it?" she muttered, her hand drifting to her heart again. 

Then the shadows fell back down to the ground. 

Gowon turned away from her. She walked back to where she’d been sitting and leaned against it. She wasn't looking at anything. 

Olivia could only watch. “What scared you?” she asked. “When the darkness came?” Was it me? 

Gowon turned her head. There were tears in her eyes, but they were being held back. 

“The only thing I really know,” Olivia said. “Is that you went to them, brought them back to where I was, and then voted to banish me.” 

She flinched. Seeing it didn't feel like a victory. It didn’t make her angry either. 

“I need to know why.” 

“I was scared,” Gowon said. “The darkness went into my mind and it was the type that taps into fear,” she blinked twice, “I felt it when I was near you. I felt it when I saw a dark spirit the next night. Every time I was close to it, I relived—” The words stopped. Gowon shook her head. “That’s the reason why. I didn’t think you were dangerous. I never thought you didn’t belong here.” Disgust filled her eyes. “I was just scared.” 

Olivia saw how Gowon’s fingers dug into her own arm. Darkness had seeped into her hands. 

Still, she could control it. Even if she’d gotten frustrated, or angry, the darkness had only been drawn to her. It’d never lashed out at anyone. Not like Olivia’s had in the beginning. 

Olivia remembered how she’d lost her grip on it and how it’d gone to Gowon. It’d hurt her. 

“What do you feel from it?” Olivia asked. “The bond.” 

Gowon closed her eyes. Several tears fell then. “Don’t ask me that.” 

“Why not?” Olivia nearly went over to her, but she stayed where she was. 

She was shaking her head. “Why do you have to know?” Her voice trembled. “You keep asking what’s happening, what’s changed—why do you keep asking me?” Her eyes were bright when she opened them. “Nothing I say’s going to help you. Everything that’s happening to me, you’re not feeling any of it. It’s not going to affect you.” The shadows were collecting around her again. “So just leave it.” 

Olivia took them away. 

“I’m not hiding anything from you.” Gowon sank to the ground. “I just c-can’t,” she stammered. 

“You think I don’t feel anything from this?” Olivia asked. “You think I just felt what I did earlier?” She thought back to the years. She’d never focused on it, but if she thought of it now, it was there. “I lost something that day too.” She put a hand to her chest, as if she could pull out whatever feeling lay there. 

Her eyes were locked onto her hand. 

“It’s been there for years,” Olivia said. “It’s colder than the rest and it’s always hurting.” 

“But you don’t have any of the pieces,” Gowon whispered, the words barely a breath. It sounded like she’d said it to herself. What strength she'd gathered, whatever resolve she'd had to still look into Olivia's eyes—it was gone. Was Olivia the reason for it? Again?

“Pieces?” she repeated. 

Gowon straightened. “I can see what’s left of it.”

Olivia frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It means the bond broke on my side.” Her voice didn’t grow harsher. Her eyes were dimmer again. Tired. She leaned her head back against the tree. “I don’t know why it feels that way.” She closed her eyes again, but no tears appeared. “Dahyun saw what it was with me. She said there were holes.” She laughed. “And that replacing what was there could do the trick. Pushing whatever good things you feel, if it’s light or the better kind of darkness, that’s supposed to soothe the pain.” 

Olivia watched as Gowon’s gaze returned to the sky. 

“At least that was what she thought it was." She lifted a hand and a piece of light appeared. It was grey. "Apparently I need to relax." A small sneer appeared. It was so unlike the playful smirks she'd worn before. "But you can ask her. She'll tell you more, if you found her before she left." 

It clicked then. “So that’s it?” Olivia asked. “It’s just you who won’t tell me?” You, Sooyoung, and Jiwoo?

Gowon met her eyes then. “I can’t.” Her voice trembled with the last word. “You’re acting like I have the answers and I don’t. I never looked for them.” 

“Why not?”

“Because I didn't care.” Her voice grew harsher. “The bond only broke on my side. It didn’t matter to me, because I was sure you weren’t feeling it. You were gone and I knew that if anyone ever saw you again, it wouldn’t be me unless you’d try to find me, for whatever reason that was going to be.” She looked away again, shaking slightly. 

Olivia didn’t feel angry, even when those words should’ve brought the feeling back. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? What reason?” 

“Do I really have to answer that?” Gowon laughed again, but it sounded hysterical. “If I’d have seen you, if you’d have tried to find me, maybe for answers, or for revenge,” she closed her eyes, “you would’ve gotten it.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me when I first asked?” Olivia asked. “Why'd I only find out about the bond now? Why didn’t you tell me what you’d seen sooner?” 

Gowon’s eyes opened, but she wasn’t looking at her. “You didn’t come here for me. You came here to help Jungeun, to help the rest.” 

Olivia frowned. “That’s—”

"Please," she said, voice breaking. "Knowing this won't help you. It won't answer any question of yours."

"Yes it will," Olivia snapped. She regretted it when Gowon winced. "Just tell me." She tried to make her voice softer. It didn't work. "Tell me and I'll go." 

Gowon blinked. Olivia spotted tears on her cheeks. Then Gowon turned her head away from her. 

“It was the one thing I let myself want," Gowon said quietly. "I wanted to be free of facing you this way." She took a deep breath. This one didn't shake. "I didn’t want to see how much you hated me, because it would hurt more. I didn’t want to tell you what happened and I told myself it was because you wouldn't want to hear it.” She grimaced. “But the truth was that I didn’t want to hear myself admit it.”

She couldn't say anything. She didn't know what she wanted to say. 

"I was being selfish," Gowon whispered. "But that doesn't matter anymore."

Olivia wanted to ask why. She wanted to know what else there was that Gowon wasn’t saying. 

The exhaustion in her eyes stopped her. That shouldn’t have mattered, but Olivia couldn’t ignore it. 

So she turned away. 

She could feel Gowon’s eyes on her back. She could vaguely feel her confusion too. 

And then she heard her breathe the smallest of sighs. If it was because she was tired, or a sigh of relief, Olivia didn’t know. 

______

Author's Note 

I meant for this to be a mostly light-hearted (?) chapter, but then the last scene came and the chapter title suddenly seemed like a slap in the face, even to me. 

Writing this story is bittersweet. There's so much that I'm happy about, specifically where some characters are going. I'm especially happy when I get to write chapters where the characters are actually starting to resolve some of the issues from before. This chapter was a mini 'culmination' of some arcs, as well as pieces of relief before Haseul, Vivi, and Yeojin leave. 

Dahyun's character is from a different story, but that's set a good amount of time after this, so there is nothing you need to know about her that isn't in this story. However, I made this magic system based on the one for emotions, tying them together in a way that made sense to me. I've thought it over way too many times, so if it was confusing, do let me know and I'll explain it better!

This is still up in the air, but I think yyxy may end up having a separate story dedicated to them. Certain parts of their arcs can't be resolved until the main plot has progressed enough. This story is almost 300k words long and I already have a hard time keeping an ending short. I want to put this idea out there to see what your thoughts about that are. I don't think the story would be long, but there'd be a bigger focus on just these characters so I can bring their stories to the end I had in mind (without stretching this to 350k or something monstrous like that). 

Let me know your thoughts about that, as well as what happened in the chapter. If you have any questions, feel free to ask! 

See you in the next chapter. 

Twitter: @hblake44

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