A part of her wondered if it had been a good idea to be alone as four. The other couldn’t help but try and savour every moment. 

Jiwoo looked between them, watching as Sooyoung quietly chided Hyejoo for not just letting them carry her somehow. 

“It doesn’t even take a healer to know you shouldn’t be walking.” 

“Don’t you have a bleeding organ in there?” Hyejoo pointed at her abdomen. “Shouldn’t be walking with that either.” 

Sooyoung gave her a look. “But my legs don’t—” She broke off when Hyejoo just put an arm around her shoulders. 

“Now I won’t fall and you won’t nag.” 

Sooyoung smiled then. It was light, barely weighed down by anything. Jiwoo loved seeing it. 

There was the smallest tug at the corner of Hyejoo’s lips. It was enough. 

Jiwoo saw that Chaewon was watching as well. The fatigue in her eyes was joined by something so much happier, but the sadness wasn’t leaving. 

She reached over and squeezed her hand once. 

Chaewon looked up at her and smiled slightly. 

“How’re you feeling?” Jiwoo asked. 

“Good.” Chaewon looked surprised at that. “It’s almost like I’m not as cold as I was before.”

“And the pain?” Hyejoo asked. “Is it still there?” 

The surprise stayed in her eyes. “Less,” she said. She pursed her lips then, looking uncertain, as if she didn't know if she could say something. 

“Still doesn’t hurt,” Hyejoo said. “Not really.” 

“Not really,” Sooyoung repeated. 

Hyejoo shrugged. “Anything less than before doesn’t feel like anything bad.” 

Jiwoo noted the understanding that filled Chaewon’s eyes. She tried not to think of what both of them had gone through today, but she couldn’t do that either. 

“What,” Jiwoo started, watching for Hyejoo’s reaction to her voice, “what does it feel like?” 

There was no animosity in Hyejoo’s eyes when they met hers. 

“Just like there should be a pain there,” Hyejoo said. “And it’s there, but not enough for me to think I’m hurt.” A pause. “It’s less than before. I think it’s just the feeling that comes with the darkness.” Her eyes flickered to Chaewon then. 

Chaewon didn’t say anything. Jiwoo didn’t know if it was hesitance or shame. 

“Before it was stronger. Heavier,” Hyejoo continued. “I think because it wasn’t meant to be there.” 

Sooyoung was looking at Chaewon as well, the question there. 

“For me too,” Chaewon said. “The magic it’s—” She straightened, but winced. “It’s right now.” 

Jiwoo watched how something in Hyejoo’s expression softened. There was still a harder edge, still the feeling that something could bring the resentment back, but it was also clear that Hyejoo was pushing that down. 

They were quiet then, walking through the forest, navigating through the trees. Sometimes Hyejoo and Sooyoung had to go a bit further away to slip through a wider gap or Chaewon and Jiwoo had to. 

What she didn’t expect was for Chaewon to break the silence. 

“I’m sorry.” 

They were silent still for a moment. Jiwoo looked to Sooyoung and Hyejoo, wondering who the apology was for. She saw that they were both confused as well. 

“I thought I’d be able to do something on my own,” she said. “Something that would help all of you.” 

“And you thought you’d do that by getting Alluin to fight you alone,” Hyejoo added. Her voice was harsher, but not from hate. Anger. “Even if you got yourself killed?” 

“More people might have died without yesterday,” Chaewon replied. “But that doesn’t mean what I did was right—fair—” She grimaced. 

“But would you have done it differently?” Jiwoo asked slowly. “Would you have told us? Let us come with you?” 

“Or let me stay with you?” Hyejoo’s voice was quieter again. 

Chaewon’s eyes were on the forest ahead. She shook her head. 

“Then what’s the apology for?” Hyejoo asked. “You don’t wish you hadn’t done it.” The words weren’t harsh, but they were getting closer to something else. 

“The pain,” Chaewon said. “I wish I hadn’t caused that, but I did.” 

“That wasn’t,” Sooyoung started, before shaking her head. “You can’t dwell on that. We can’t change what happened.”

“But what about now? The grief is still there,” Chaewon paused, “but I’m alive.” Her eyes were still on the forest. “Let me take it.” 

Jiwoo couldn’t believe her ears. 

“No.” Hyejoo’s voice almost sounded like a slap. “Not mine.”

“Or mine,” Sooyoung said.

Jiwoo echoed both of them. 

“It’s for someone who’s still alive,” Chaewon looked at them, “for me.” She frowned. “It’s darkness I can take. I can bear it.” 

“And so can we,” Jiwoo said. “You’re not taking anything more. We’ll be alright.” She would never forget seeing Chaewon on the ground. When she closed her eyes, she could see her lifeless form, remember how cold she’d been. Taking away the grief wouldn't lessen the force of that memory from her either. 

But Chaewon couldn’t take those feelings. She couldn’t take those shadows. 

“So will I.” Chaewon’s voice wasn’t sharp, but it was close to it. “I’m not fragile.” 

“I never said that.” Even if she’d held her in her arms, just the idea of what had happened to Chaewon proved the opposite. “No one needs to bear more than they have to.” 

Something in Chaewon deflated. Her heart twisted and Jiwoo wished she could say something else. She didn’t know what. 

“You were going to live with your pain,” Hyejoo said, a scowl starting to form. “What gives you the right to do that and I can’t? We can’t?”

Chaewon hadn’t flinched, but something had cracked in her eyes. “It’s not who has the right.”

“Then what, because if it’s about what you deserve, or what any of you deserve,” Hyejoo’s gaze went to both Sooyoung and Jiwoo then, “I don’t want to hear it.” 

Silence again. 

“Your guilt is always there,” Hyejoo whispered. “I see all of it. I can feel the hate you have for yourselves.” 

“Hyejoo.” Sooyoung’s voice was just short of being shaky. Jiwoo could feel the nervousness. And her pain. 

Hyejoo just shook her head. “I’d hoped for you to feel a piece of what I had that day. I’d wanted you to hurt. I’d wanted to hurt you.” Tears were starting to appear in her eyes. “I was so angry. I hated what had happened. I hated what you did to me. I hated—” 

She came to a stop, which meant Sooyoung did too. So did Jiwoo and Chaewon. Her own vision was getting blurry. Chaewon was gripping her hand tightly. She tried to focus on that. 

“I hated that I didn’t hate you,” Hyejoo hissed. “You’d left me and I couldn’t hate you. When it was—when I—I thought I’d come back and get revenge.” She looked at them, the tears rolling down her face. “And then I came back.” 

Sooyoung was crying. Her arm was still around Hyejoo’s shoulders, the grip tight. Her other arm had risen, but she wasn’t putting it around her. Maybe she didn't think she could.

And then Hyejoo let out a sob. 

Jiwoo’s heart broke again. 

“You,” Hyejoo’s voice shook, “were h-hurt. You couldn’t look at me without the pain just there.” She sank into Sooyoung’s side. “I was still angry. I still wanted—I didn’t want to see what was happening, but it was all there. It was all just so wrong. And it was because of me.”

“No—” Jiwoo started. 

“Let me finish.” Hyejoo choked out. “You were the ones who left. You me.” She closed her eyes. “Nothing changes that.” 

The words didn’t even hurt. None of them flinched. They were true. They were what they knew. 

“But I don’t want to think about that. Nothing about it can change, except for now. After,” she looked at Chaewon then, “after what’s happened, I can’t feel like that. I can’t.” Hyejoo met Jiwoo’s eyes. “I don’t want you to feel like that,” she said. “But we still will.” 

Jiwoo nodded. “I know.” Her own voice sounded quiet to her ears. Fresh tears started to come. 

“And we could take that out, try to put it somewhere, or share it somehow,” Hyejoo’s brow furrowed, “but none of you would let me take that guilt. That hatred.” She stood a bit taller then. “If I can’t take that, you’re not taking my pain.” She was looking at Chaewon again. “You can’t.” 

The look in Chaewon’s eyes went between defeat and something that bordered on desperation. 

“If you weren’t going to let them take my memories, you can’t take that.” 

Chaewon flinched this time. 

Hyejoo limped over to her, Sooyoung half steadying her, half trying to keep her own balance. The whites of her eyes had reddened. 

“I know.” Hyejoo nodded once. “I know what he—what Alluin was offering you.”

The name was hard for her to say. Jiwoo didn’t know if they’d ever know what he’d meant to her. She wouldn’t ask unless Hyejoo told them.

Chaewon was looking at her, not shying away, but there was a fragility in the strength she’d put into her eyes. Jiwoo almost told her she didn’t have to do that here, but it wasn’t true. Chaewon needed to. 

Jiwoo looked to Sooyoung. She almost didn’t think they were supposed to be here, but Sooyoung nodded once. 

“You told me why you ran,” Hyejoo said then to Chaewon. There was something else in her voice. Something more purposeful. She looked to Sooyoung and Jiwoo then. The question was clear. 

Jiwoo saw the day they’d turned away. She’d never forgotten Hyejoo’s screams. Her tears. 

No matter the answer she gave, Hyejoo would know just how much of a coward she’d been. 

“I,” Jiwoo started. “I could only see the darkness. I couldn’t see past it.” 

Hyejoo didn’t look angry. She didn’t even look like the wrong word would set her off. 

“I was scared,” Jiwoo said. “I thought that because I couldn’t see your path. Because it was only darkness, that—” She felt close up. She couldn’t cry now. That wasn’t fair to Hyejoo. “That you’d be corrupted by it.” 

“You thought it meant I’d be lost.” 

“That you were already lost.” Jiwoo forced herself to hold her gaze. 

Hyejoo looked torn between surprise and hurt. 

I was wrong couldn’t have described everything Jiwoo felt then. I’m sorry did too little. “I was,” she said. “I thought the darkness was evil. I thought we wouldn’t be able to save you.” She scoffed. “I thought it was something you’d have to be saved from and we couldn’t.” She fought back the tears. “But I didn’t—I never—” She broke off. What could she say. I never meant to hurt you, I regretted it the second I turned away. How would any of it help Hyejoo? How could any of it sound like anything other than an excuse to her? 

“We both thought that,” Sooyoung said. “We didn’t question it. I didn’t.” 

“I know.” Hyejoo looked between them. She didn’t look disgusted. “Did you think about looking for me?” 

“We tried,” Sooyoung nodded, “but never far enough so you’d know we were looking. Never close enough.” 

“I could still sense you’d been close.” The smallest smile appeared. “You saw the same witch I did.” She looked at Jiwoo. “But you could have found me, right?” 

Jiwoo could only nod. 

Hyejoo took a deep breath. “Thank you for not trying too,” she said. “You wouldn’t have wanted to see me then. I wouldn’t have wanted to see you either.” 

A few seconds of silence passed. She wondered if they should have filled it. Found something else to say. 

“But I do now,” Hyejoo said, breaking the silence then. 

Jiwoo felt the tears prick at her eyes again. She remembered when Hyejoo had run when she’d seen her. She saw the anger again that had filled her eyes when she’d first come back. 

And then Hyejoo was pulling her into her arms. 

“I missed you.”

Jiwoo pulled her closer. “I missed you too.” 

She didn’t try to fight the tears this time. She knew Hyejoo wasn’t either. 

______

Yeojin walked. Yerim was beside her, but she’d been quiet since they’d collapsed the first tent. She was surprised she’d let Jinsoul and Jungeun go ahead, but she understood it too. She’d heard Jinsoul and Jungeun before the fight as well. She’d seen what’d happened after Jinsoul had woken up too. There was a lot left to say. There’d always been. 

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Yerim looked at the space in front of her. Darkness appeared in it. She made a circle, a blade, a hoop, then a book. The darkness wasn’t like what she’d seen with Alluin. The feelings she felt from it were faint, but she could recognise anger and something else that just made her feel heavy, but positive emotions too. It was confusing to focus on for too long, because she ended up feeling so much too quickly. 

They’d all decided to make their way back to camp on foot. Slowly too. No sprinting back, especially not when most of them were injured (and also insisted on not being carried). 

Yeojin and Yerim had disassembled the tents, being the least injured of all of them. 

The others had already gone ahead, their progress a lot slower than normal. They’d gone to the river too to wash away the rest. If Jinsoul’s magic still worked, either she or Jungeun would then dry their clothes to avoid anyone getting colds. All of it was slow, but Yeojin had the feeling that was what they all wanted. She wondered if it was because they didn’t really want to get back to the camp or it if was because they were all together now, no one else there to listen to them. 

She didn’t mind it either way. She didn’t want to go back to the camp yet either. She wanted to enjoy the quiet. After the fight, that was what she needed. 

The details of the fight were coming back to her in full force. She remembered how she’d kept fighting, never stopping, because she kept seeing more and more trying to kill the others. She remembered the people she’d delivered the killing blow to, but also those she’d left wounded and they’d been killed by another. Usually that had been Vivi. 

“Is this annoying?” Yerim asked then. The darkness in her hands vanished. One of her eyes had turned black. The other still shone purple. It was as if the light hadn’t really left her. It’d just gone to her eyes. Eye now. 

Yeojin shook her head. “It’s interesting,” she said. “There’s parts to it that feel familiar and others that don’t.”

She nodded. “It feels that way too.” A small smile. “I was scared it’d end up hurting, but it’s getting more,” a pause, “normal every night.” 

“And the cold?” 

“Bearable,” Yerim replied. “Hyejoo told me it starts feeling normal. Bit like how Jungeun’s normal temperatures are a lot warmer than what we are.” She summoned the darkness again. “But my skin isn’t that cold. I just feel cold.” She held out a hand then.

Yeojin looked at it for a moment before taking it. Her skin felt normal. Cool, but not ice.  

“See?” Yerim grinned. “I’m not even as cold as Jinsoul,” the smile faltered then, “but she’ll get better.” 

She didn’t let go of her as they kept walking. Neither did Yerim. 

“This wasn’t the first time you’d fought,” Yerim started then. 

Yeojin shook her head. “But it was the first time there’d been this many. All at once.”

A small nod. “It was the biggest fight I’d ever been in,” she said. “Even,” she trailed off, shaking her head. 

“You fought like that before?” Yerim wasn’t much older than her and she knew well enough that Jungeun and Jinsoul tried to keep her from the worst of the fights. Jungeun tried to do that for both of them. The Astra hadn’t really been in that many outright fights with others. Not for a long time. If they had, Yeojin had been too young.

“Before I came here,” Yerim paused, “twice.” She looked to the trees. “The first was when I lost control. The second was years after that.” 

Yeojin remembered the screams that’d ripped from Jungeun along with the fire. She replayed the memory of how Jinsoul had brought the river crashing through the trees. She’d seen Yerim using her magic, but it hadn’t been out of control. 

“But it's still hard,” Yerim sighed, “I thought I’d be able to handle it better, but—” She broke off. Her eyes were getting teary. 

Yeojin tightened her grip on Yerim’s hand. 

“I was so scared,” Yerim said. “I hadn’t been able to see their paths before, but there, it was like I could feel them. I knew when someone was going to die, when someone was being targeted, and I tried to find the rest of you, but it didn’t work.” 

“You were doing everything you could,” Yeojin told her. She thought of how most of them weren’t in pain now, or going into the fevers from infection, because Yerim had been there to heal them. Jinsoul was banned from casting any healing runes even though she’d tried. Yeojin could see the exhaustion now in Yerim. “And even more now.”

She was still teary-eyed, but she gave her a small smile. “Same for you,” she said. “You look like you’re handling it better than I am.”

Yeojin snorted once. “Barely.”

“That’s why I said you looked it,” Yerim squeezed her hand, “not that you were.”

Yeojin didn’t reply to that. 

“We can talk about it if you want,” Yerim said. “I might say a lot too,” she sighed, “and talking to the other two about one of the scariest moments for both of them, doesn’t really get that far.” When Yeojin looked up at that, Yerim added, “seeing them like that’s hard, seeing me like this is hard for them too. Then we’re all crying.” She chuckled lightly. “I don’t know if you want to see that.”

She watched as Yerim still struggled to keep the tears from falling, all the while with a small smile on her face. It didn’t look put on, oddly enough. She just looked tired. 

“I’m worried about Haseul,” Yeojin said. 

Yerim’s smile faded. She nodded once. 

“She wanted us there with her,” she shook her head, “I thought she wanted us to help her.” Her eyes burned just thinking of 

She was still quiet. 

You’re more of a help away from me than you are here. 

Yeojin had kept seeing that moment in her mind. The attack and then Haseul telling them to run. To leave her. 

You’re going to come back here. And you’re going to fight and get me out of there.

Yeojin hadn’t been there to save her. The others had gotten to her first. They’d saved her. Yeojin had only seen her afterwards, shaken and left with the flickers of terror. She still didn’t know what had happened to her. Not enough, only that Haseul was still far from recovering from it. 

But this will be worth it. It has to be.

“I’ve never been that,” Yeojin paused, “angry at her. At Vivi for stopping me, but she was just trying to keep me safe. Haseul was doing that for both of us.”

“But that’s not why you went with her,” Yerim finished. “You wanted to fight with her. Protect her.” 

Yeojin could only nod. “Are you going to tell me that I wouldn’t have survived if I’d gone with her?”

“That,” she said, “and he tortured her.” The look in her eyes changed into something else. Something harsher. “Haseul would’ve never let anything like that happen to you. Any of us.” 

Yeojin didn’t know what to say.

“I know you wish you’d been the one to find her, but if you had,” Yerim said. Her eyes grew distant. “You would’ve known—seen what,” she trailed off. 

“What he’d done to her?” Yeojin finished. 

“He’d done the same to her as they’d done to Hyejoo.” Yerim closed her eyes. Her grip on Yeojin tightened. “Put her in a cage, put the darkness around her, and he’d forced it into her mind too.” Her bottom lip trembled. “She was so scared. She even—she wanted to stay there, to keep trying to do what she was there for. She wanted us to leave her there in case we’d get attacked and we were, but—” She opened her eyes then, guilt flickering in her eyes, but it was joined by hate.

“You’re not sure if you should tell me,” Yeojin said. She tried to keep her voice steady. It didn’t take much to think of how Haseul might have looked. That Alluin had done something to put such hate in Yerim’s eyes. That this was what he’d done to hurt Haseul so much. 

“But would Haseul tell you if you knew nothing, or if you knew some of it already?” Yerim shook her head. “I don’t think she’d tell me though, maybe Hyunjin, or she’s already told Jungeun, because,” she faltered again. Something in her jaw tightened and Yeojin saw fresh tears coming again. “She’s gone through something like it,” she bit out. “Remember?”

Yeojin nodded. It’d been fairies too, but that’s all she’d heard. She just remembered Jungeun coming back, dazed, with Jinsoul at her side. Then she’d disappeared into her tent. When she came out again, she was putting on a smile and acting as if all was fine, all the while with bright red eyes that barely held back her emotions. 

“And Haseul and Jungeun are like each other. They’ll not talk about it, but they have to, several times.” She laughed slightly. “They’ll tell each other about it, but that’s not enough.”

Yeojin grimaced. Haseul had looked more at ease after she’d gotten the water and that was why, but she still seemed shaky when Yeojin had looked over at the right moment, or seen her through the trees. 

“Saying it once pushes it out of you and you can forget about it for a bit," Yerim said. "They can tell themselves they’ve already talked about it to someone who can handle it,” Yerim scoffed, “and it’s all going to be left for later. Always later.” There was a bite to her voice. “I don’t want to do that." She paused. “I’ve done that and it hurts more.” 

“But you didn’t want to tell Jungeun and Jinsoul?” Yeojin asked. 

Yerim smiled then, but it was skewed. “I don't think I'll have much to say tonight, or a few nights, but next week maybe.” Guilt crossed her features for a second before going. “Both of them need to say what they need to first. Not just the obvious.” Her smile turned warmer then. 

It was a lot to take in at once. Yerim seemed to be going through multiple thoughts all at once and Yeojin didn’t know what most of them were. She had the feeling she was missing something too, something Yerim was trying to say, but hadn’t outright. 

“And who else are you telling?” 

“For now,” Yerim started, “just you.” She looked to the trees then. They were swaying ever so slightly, but had parted in the sky to make way for the moonlight. 

The words were simple, but Yeojin still smiled hearing them. 

“And Hyunjin and Hyejoo?” She still had to ask. She was glad Yerim wanted to talk to her, even now. “One stabbed in the chest and the other—” She barely even knew what to say there. 

“With the others?” Yerim finished. She shook her head. “I could,” she said, “but I’m here instead.” Then she looked back to Yeojin. “Unless?” 

Yeojin shook her head. “I’m glad you’re here.” She squeezed her hand once. “I told Haseul a bit about it,” she said. “Cried out most of it, but,” she shrugged, “didn’t get to say everything.” She didn’t get to hear much of anything either. 

“We never do,” she tugged her a bit closer to her side, “I’m not sure if that’s made worse or better by the immortality.”

Yeojin looked up at that. "Both. We can save something for later for an eternity if we wanted to."

"And mortals have the pressure that they’ll get older, that the people around them will get older, but we don’t have that.” 

“We can still lose people.”

Yerim nodded. “Which is why it’s better not to wait,” she sighed, “but we all do it anyway.”

Yeojin frowned. “When were you waiting?” 

“For a few things,” Yerim said. “Like to tell the truth about the sight.” 

“But you didn’t?” Yeojin looked at her. “So Jiwoo wouldn’t be found out?”

“I did it for that,” she nodded, “but I could’ve still said it to Jinsoul and Jungeun sooner. I could’ve learned to use it for all of us.” She lifted her other hand. “You don’t have to reassure me. I waited and we can’t change that I did.” Her eyes fell and that expression was back on her face. 

“And now?” Yeojin started. Would she tell her what that meant? 

Yerim looked back at her. “I don't wait,” she said. “But I don’t know if I’ll always be able to do that.”

“We can remind each other,” Yeojin replied. 

Yerim’s smile appeared again, but it was slow. “We can.” Then she nodded once. “I said some of mine.” 

She looked away, back at the forest. Looking into light didn’t hurt, but she could still feel a light strain as she tried to find the rest. Vivi and Haseul were with Heejin and Hyunjin. They were well off in the distance with Jungeun and Jinsoul trailing behind. The other four were off to the side, but still walking in the same direction. She could only see the faint outline of Chaewon beside the others who almost looked like beacons next to her. That didn’t matter as much, not when she was awake and alright. 

Yerim was still looking at her, a small but encouraging smile on her face. She wasn’t hiding her fatigue. 

“I’m angry,” Yeojin admitted. “But he's dead, and I don’t want to turn that on Haseul.” She grimaced. “I directed that at Vivi right after she left us there.” Vivi hadn’t been as angry when she should have been. “And she stopped me from getting myself killed.” 

The response was just a nod. If it was for her to continue or to agree, she wasn’t sure. 

“I felt so useless,” she said. “I still do, because I’m seeing how everyone is now and I haven’t done anything.”

“You came back,” Yerim replied. “You fought and then you were getting the others to leave, you got the supplies from the witch, and then you were helping me here.” 

“That’s not,” Yeojin started. 

“It’s enough.” 

Yeojin fell silent. So did Yerim, but the hold she had on her hand didn’t lessen. 

They kept walking. 

She went over what Yerim had told her, both from her own side and in response to what she Yeojin had said. She thought of the look still on Yerim’s face that appeared and reappeared. She wasn’t saying anything. 

Yeojin wondered if that was because she didn’t want to tell her or if she just wasn’t the right person to tell about it. A part of her wondered if it was hypocritical to stay silent about it, but that was unavoidable. Yerim had already said so much. 

“You’ve done more than enough,” Yeojin said. “Thanks.”

Yerim laughed slightly. “You don’t have to say that.” 

“But I am.” She let go of her hand and pulled her in for a side hug. “Accept it.”

Yerim responded by putting both her arms around Yeojin and squeezing tightly. 

“Aren’t you hurt?” Yeojin asked, wondering if a rib would crack now. She laughed when Yerim just knocked her head against hers. 

“I think we all are,” Yerim replied. She loosened her grip ever so slightly. “But you looked like you needed it and I did too.” 

They went on in silence then. Yerim leaned into her side more and more as the night went on. By day it was like she was dozing while walking. 

The tents were already built by the time they arrived, but only Sooyoung was there. 

“You look ready to sleep.” She smiled as they came closer. “I made dinner for everyone, but,” she looked between them, “you can eat first and then sleep?”

Yerim was shaking her head. “I want to eat with everyone.” 

Sooyoung’s expression softened. “Me too.” She waved to one of the tents. “I’ll wake you both when everyone’s here.” 

“How do you feel?” Yeojin asked. “With the whole—” She waved at her stomach. 

Sooyoung looked down and chuckled. “Still hurts, but apparently organs take a little longer to heal completely.” 

“Do you need—” Yerim started. 

She lifted a hand. “Go sleep.” She patted her shoulder. “I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” Yeojin asked. “I’ve got some of the elixirs.”

“I was force-fed two by the others,” Sooyoung replied, smiling still. She looked exhausted too. “I’ll manage.”

Yeojin lightly pushed Yerim in the direction of the tent. She trudged over and then disappeared. 

Sooyoung was looking at her, both confusion and doubt appearing. Yeojin felt a pang of guilt. After everything that’d happened, she didn’t want things to go back to how they’d been before. She didn’t want Sooyoung, Chaewon, or Jiwoo to look like that whenever they saw her. 

“Can I help you with dinner?” 

Sooyoung's surprise was the first thing she saw. Then she almost looked like she was going to tell her no. A few seconds later, she nodded. 

She made her cut vegetables. 

Yeojin didn’t know how to bring it up. She watched how Sooyoung cut the meat into small slivers, her gaze almost unreadable. She remembered the grief that’d covered her features, but also the guilt she’d grown accustomed to seeing on Sooyoung’s face over the years. 

Sooyoung took the platter of chopped carrots with a small smile before putting it in one of the pots. It stood over a small fire. 

Well, it wasn’t small. Jungeun wasn’t here to bring the flames up higher so a normal flame was small in comparison. It was sometimes just her presence that did that to the flames. 

Sooyoung was looking at the tents now, concern already making her brow furrow. 

“I don’t think I’m angry about before,” Yeojin said. “Not that much at least.”

Sooyoung looked back. The uncertainty was back. 

“I’m angry about other things.” She went over to her. “But we’re all here now and I’m just glad everyone’s okay. I’m happy you’re safe.” 

Sooyoung nodded. “Same for me—I mean,” she let out a small huff, “I’m glad you’re safe too.” Her eyes and smile were warm. “But if you’re angry after, then be angry.” She looked away. “I am too.” Shame flickered in her eyes and Yeojin almost regretted bringing it up. 

“I don’t want to be angry anymore,” Yeojin told her. “When we go back and life goes back to normal and the fighting all becomes a memory, I don’t want to still be angry.” She reached for her arm and squeezed it tightly. “I don’t want us all to be divided again. Even if I can’t forget what happened.”

She winced. “I won’t forget it either. None of us will.” 

Yeojin nodded. 

Sooyoung’s smile trembled. “But if we could have nights like what we have out here again,” she took two small breaths, “I’d be so—” Her voice broke. 

Yeojin pulled on her arm lightly and Sooyoung came surprisingly quickly. She put the other arm around Yeojin’s shoulders. She wasn’t so tall, but she was a lot taller than Yeojin as she’d used to always say. Sooyoung’s chin came to rest on the top of her head like it had then too. 

She was overcome with a wave of emotion then, but held back the tears. She’d missed this. 

“I’d be so happy,” Sooyoung finished. “I missed you.” 

Yeojin closed her eyes and just patted her back. “I missed you too.” 

______

They’d gone to the river. Jinsoul was still weak, but she didn’t want to be carried. 

So they walked slowly. Jungeun wanted to give her light, something that would help. It worked better like this—if it was from her. The thought made her dizzy. What that meant made her dizzy. 

Jinsoul walked now without any support, but her hand was gingerly holding her side. Jungeun wasn’t sure if she was supposed to offer to help or if Jinsoul would even accept it. She hadn’t gone into the river, only knelt down and splashed the water on her face and neck. 

“It hurts to call on it,” Jinsoul had said. “I don’t think I could even take the water from my clothes.” 

Jungeun had made four large basins of moonlight, filled them with water again, and sealed them. They were floating around them now too. Jinsoul had been smiling when she’d finished. She hadn’t said anything. 

So Jungeun had reached over and taken her hand. Jinsoul had squeezed it tightly and they’d kept walking. There hadn’t been any sign she was in pain, but even after the multiple elixirs, that didn’t mean they’d taken away everything. 

She looked up when Jinsoul let out a soft sigh. 

“You’re taking some of it,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to do that.” She ran her thumb over the back of Jungeun’s hand.

“I didn’t know I was.” Jungeun tried to feel if there’d been a change, a spike in the pain. Nothing had changed. Either that or she’d just grown used to it. “But I don’t feel it,” she said. “I can take more.” 

Jinsoul stopped where she was, lightly pulling Jungeun to a stop as well. “We shouldn’t take anything else. Neither of us.” She looked down. “You’ve got a lot that’s mine and so do I from you.” Her smile was soft as she looked from the space between them to Jungeun. 

“Can you see it?” Jungeun asked. 

Her eyes widened. 

“I can feel it too.” Jungeun almost laughed. “I know that was how you took the anger and I tried to take it back the same way.” 

Jinsoul’s smile was almost sheepish. “I guess it’d be easy to figure out that way.” She looked away. At their hands now.

“How long did you know?” she asked. “A lot longer?”

She shook her head. “I really knew when the darkness nearly took you.” Something flickered in her eyes before it went away. “I felt it then.”

Jungeun remembered how Jinsoul’s face had twisted with pain, while she hadn’t felt anything until minutes later. She remembered Yerim coming and being worried for her instead of Jinsoul, because the darkness was trying to take her. Jinsoul had taken that pain for herself. Then she’d started to take the darkness. 

“Do they work like that normally?” Jungeun asked. 

Jinsoul shrugged. “They do for us.” She hadn’t looked up. 

“You saved me,” she said. “Again.” And you got hurt. She shoved the thought down. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“The burning is gone,” Jinsoul’s voice was quiet, “but the rest. This pain.” The hand on her chest moved to the middle, tracing the space. “It’s less, but it’s still there.” Then she finally met Jungeun’s eyes. “And this was the knife,” she said. “Not the anger.” 

Jungeun nodded once. 

Surprise flickered across her face and it stayed. 

I’ll tell you everything. 

Jinsoul might not have heard her, but she’d meant it. 

“It still burns for me,” Jungeun said. “It’s all I can feel, even if the rest is there too.” 

Her eyes were drifting over her face and Jungeun knew she was looking at where the anger had come through. She hadn’t seen how it looked fully, but she almost didn’t want to know. Not yet. 

“And the memories?” 

“They’re there.” 

Jinsoul nodded. She pulled on her arm. 

Jungeun went closer. 

“You didn’t sleep,” Jinsoul murmured. 

They’d slept in the same tent, Jinsoul huddled beside her. Jungeun hadn’t wanted to leave. Not when Jinsoul’s breathing was easy and she knew she’d wake up again. She just hadn’t wanted to fall asleep.

“I wish I hadn’t today,” Jinsoul said. Her eyes gave way to something she knew. 

Jungeun pulled her into her arms. She was still cold. 

“Before you say it, they weren’t all yours.” Her words were muffled. “There’s his memories too, mine, and I just—” she faltered. 

“It’s too much,” Jungeun finished.

A nod. Jinsoul had barely even shown she’d had a troubled day sleeping. She’d woken, looked at her, and smiled. 

“Let me take my anger back,” Jungeun said. “I know you said no more, but it’s what I had before, it’s—”

“You can take it back later.” Jinsoul lifted her head. Her eyes were a very dark blue, but there was light there. “Remember I told you the burning isn’t there anymore?”

“But the memories—”

“Others would take their place,” Jinsoul said. “You want to take your anger back for the same reason I’d take the rest of the darkness you have.” She put a hand over her cheek. “You can handle it and I don’t have to feel it, but someone is going to have to feel it and I don’t want either of us to have to feel more pain. It doesn’t matter if that’s the fire or the emptiness.” 

Jungeun felt the ache in her chest then. Not the one from the holes. It should’ve been obvious this entire time. 

Jinsoul looking at her like she so often had, her expression almost forming a smile, all while her eyes were so open. Warm. 

She felt a wave of emotion just looking into them. Her eyes start to burn again. She wished she could push them down before Jinsoul knew, but she saw that she did already. The question was there, but she wasn’t saying it. 

And I’ll try to tell you everything. 

She’d already promised Jinsoul that and she hadn’t told her about Haseul or the medallion then. She’d left the camp soon after. 

Jungeun remembered that look on Jinsoul’s face too well. So much had happened since then, but that didn’t mean everything they’d said didn’t mean anything anymore. It meant even more now. 

I’ll come back. 

Don’t promise me that. Not when you don’t believe it.

“Jungeun?” she started. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungeun whispered. “I’m so sorry.” 

Jinsoul frowned. “What—“

“I wasn’t fair to you,” she said. “I didn’t realise how much—what I was doing—how much that hurt.” She took the hand that was on her face, pulling it away, but she didn’t let go. “You said that you were being unfair, but that was one of the first times you even—when you told me to stay.” 

“But you wouldn’t have stayed,” Jinsoul replied. “You would’ve never forgiven yourself if you hadn’t gone and even if you wouldn’t have blamed me, I would’ve.” She smiled, but it was weak. “So many times that you’ve gone, it’s been to help. I can’t stop you from doing that. I wouldn’t want you doing that for me either.” 

Jungeun could see herself trying to. She’d asked Jinsoul to stop draining herself when healing so many times. She’d asked her to do it with her too. Jinsoul had never stopped and she wouldn’t in the future either. 

“I always tried to let you go,” she said. “This time I’d made you leave.” Her jaw tightened then. “And you didn’t want to.” 

“But I still left,” Jungeun replied. felt tight, but the words came out steady. 

“You left,” a nod, “but then we followed you.” The corner of her lip tugged up. “You don’t know how thankful I am that we caught up with you then.” Her other hand rose. “Can I?” 

Jungeun just nodded.

Jinsoul’s fingers traced along the side of her face. Her skin was still cool. “I got to let you go then.” Her thumb brushed over a line in Jungeun’s cheek. It took some of the burn there. “And I could still fight with you.” 

She saw it in her mind again. Jinsoul’s eyes filled with fury as the water surrounded them all, torn from the river. She saw a moment before, when her eyes had been tinged by red after she’d taken Jungeun’s anger. 

“You saved my life,” Jungeun said. “Twice.”

Jinsoul didn’t respond by nodding. She just leaned forward and her lips came to the side of Jungeun’s head. “I was so scared,” she whispered. “Scared they’d take you away and I hated how he just kept hurting you.” 

Jungeun put her arms around her then, pulling her close. 

“I was going to kill him.” Jinsoul’s voice was shaky again. “I wanted him dead for what he’d done to you.” 

“I know.” She was still relieved she hadn’t. When the anger faded, Jinsoul would’ve felt more pain from the guilt. Dahyun would’ve forgiven them, but she would’ve still grieved for him. 

“I can still hear you screaming.” Jinsoul was crying. “And you can’t blame yourself for the fire. That wasn’t you.”

Jungeun closed her eyes, bringing one of her hands up to run through Jinsoul’s hair, hoping it could bring her some sort of comfort. She knew where the fire had struck everyone. She’d seen flames curl away from their clothes and where their skin had been made red. She could see the edges of a burn on Jinsoul’s neck. “It’ll be a while until I realise that.”

And now you’re just finding things to be guilty about. 

“But I know I have to.” 

Jinsoul pulled away to look at her then. Her eyes were still teary. “You know?” There was surprise in those words, but also something so much softer. 

Jungeun could only nod. 

And Jinsoul smiled again.

She felt the tugging sensation again in her chest. A warmth that wasn’t burning her. 

Jungeun barely even knew the tears were coming before they did. 

“Jungeun?” Worry was already seeping through. 

“I’m alright.” Jungeun shook her head. “I’m just—” She swallowed down a sob. “You’re here.” 

Jinsoul’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. “I am?” 

She laughed slightly. “I meant awake,” she said. “I-I didn’t know when you’d wake up.”

“Oh.” The confusion slowly disappeared. Understanding replaced it. “But I did wake up.” She held Jungeun’s face between both her hands. “I’m here,” she echoed her words. 

It hurt more to realise that Jinsoul had felt this way before. Not once, but twice. Seeing what happened, trying to get Jungeun to open her eyes, to stop hurting, and then waiting. Now she was reassuring her. 

“What does it look like?” Jungeun asked. “The bond.”

“It’s bright. Silver and white,” Jinsoul replied. She looked away from Jungeun and down again. The space between them was small, but she knew it would be there. “It’s beautiful.” Her eyes were full of awe. 

Jungeun kissed her. 

Jinsoul had made a small sound of surprise, but then she pulled her closer. 

She smelled like rain and smoke. She tasted like apples. 

Jungeun could feel a thrum in her chest then. It was warm and made her think of Jinsoul as she looked out across the water, completely at home. 

She realised then that the warmth was an emotion. It wasn’t just her own. 

Jinsoul’s lips were soft, but insistent as they moved against hers. Jungeun lifted one hand to her cheek. Jinsoul put a hand over it, keeping it there. 

Jinsoul pulled away after a few moments. “That was nice.”

Laughter bubbled up before she could stop it. 

Jinsoul kissed her again, but only once. She pulled away with a bright smile. 

I’ll tell you everything. 

Jinsoul was already pulling her to start walking. She was still looking at her. She almost looked like she didn’t believe what was happening. There was a flicker of doubt too. She’d seen it several times. 

Jungeun went closer to her side, tightening her grip on her hand. “Jinsoul,” she started. She didn’t know what she’d say, but she knew she had to. She wanted to find the words to show her she didn’t need to doubt. She didn’t want her to think this was like before.

“We have time,” Jinsoul replied. “And we’re both,” she looked from her eyes to her arm, “we don’t have to say more than we have yet.” 

How could she still be patient?

There was that tugging feeling again. A part of her wished she could see the bond. The other liked that Jinsoul was the only one who could see it.

“How long?” 

“Not long,” Jinsoul said, eyes sparkling. “Everything I want to tell you,” uncertainty flickered in her eyes, “I will.” It almost sounded like a question. 

Jungeun nodded. “Or tell me now?” A part of her knew the words Jinsoul could say. They would match the emotions she’d felt. She didn’t know what she’d say to them. 

Jinsoul shook her head. “I’m happy that you’re here with me now.” She kissed her again. “That you want to—that I can do this,” she laughed against her lips, “and that’s enough for tonight. Maybe a little less tomorrow and the night after, but tonight it’s enough for me.” She pulled away. “Is that okay?” 

“Are you waiting for you?” Jungeun asked, barely trusting her own voice. “Or me?”

“Us.” The smile she gave her was small, but held so much. 

They didn’t say anything then, but the silence was so comfortable. They stayed close to each other. Jungeun didn’t want to leave her side. She could barely stop looking at her. 

Jinsoul still had a smile on her face, just short of breaking into a grin. Her eyes had more light in them than they had before. She still looked tired. In the moonlight, her hair was a dark blue, not black. The burn on her neck was there, but less than it had been. The healing elixirs were working well. 

She caught her eye and the smile grew. It told her everything then.

Jungeun felt the familiar feeling, one that made her want to look away. She ignored it. She just tightened her grip on Jinsoul’s hand. 

______

It was day again. The others were asleep. Haseul had made them accept that she was taking watch. She’d drank a draught to keep her awake with Heejin watching, before ushering her into one of the tents. She’d stay awake. She had to. 

She didn’t have to skirt around the camp so she just walked slowly. Soon enough she knew exactly when to step over a root and when to avoid stepping on a sprout. It was relaxing. She focused on the silence of the day, one filled with animals and the wind. It helped. 

The memories weren’t so loud, but they were all there. She saw them if her mind slipped out of the comforts the camp gave her. When the conversation turned silent, weighed down by their collective exhaustion. Tonight too had been harder from the way the injured had pushed themselves to walk. They’d been quiet over dinner and gone to bed earlier. 

Still, it was everything Haseul could have dreamed of and more. A part of her almost felt like they could’ve stayed this way for longer than just the journey back. 

Then she heard someone coming out of the tent. She looked. 

It was Chaewon. She was squinting against the light of the sun. Her hair was its dark silvery grey. 

She saw her and smiled. It was a proper one. 

“Morning,” Chaewon said. She pointed off to the side. “Need to, you know.”

Haseul laughed. "I'll know where not look." She turned the other way. 

She looked out at the forest, looking for spirits. It wasn’t uncommon for them to stray out in the daylight, but most preferred not being there. Where exactly they went or if they simply vanished, she didn’t know. She wondered if it mattered. They just existed. 

A small flash of a memory came then. Of a spirit where she’d impaled it on the ground. The transformation hadn’t happened fast enough and it had shrieked the entire time. She’d gone over to it and it’s eyes had been wide with fear. She’d almost thought it was begging her to make the pain stop. 

“Do you want me to take the rest?” The voice broke her from the memory. 

Haseul looked to see that Chaewon was standing a few metres away. Her brow was furrowed and she was standing in a way that gave the pain away, but she looked lighter somehow. More at ease. Were her eyes brighter too or was that the daylight?

“The rest is mine,” Haseul said. “And even if it wasn’t, you don’t need to take it.” Of all people too. Hyejoo, Yerim, and Hyunjin had all asked. She wouldn't have let any of them either. 

Chaewon gave her a look. “Can I sit there?”

Haseul nodded. 

She did before turning to her, that look still there. “You do owe me some of it, you know.”

“I,” Haseul started. 

“I gave you some light and now I can’t take it back,” Chaewon said. “So I’ll get what I can take now and that’s the darkness.” She lifted a hand before pausing. “It doesn’t hurt me like it did before,” she said. “I don’t lose anything and you get to feel a little better.” 

Haseul wanted to tell her no. Chaewon’s gaze was insistent, so much more sure than before. 

“You’re in pain,” Chaewon said. 

“And you’re not?” Haseul asked. “What if I make that worse?”

“My pain is just from what I lost. The rest is just from getting stabbed.”

Haseul tried not to laugh at that, but it didn’t work. 

Chaewon just smiled, looking proud. There wasn’t as large a shadow behind it as before. “So?” She took her hand then. “I think I feel better than you do this time.” 

Haseul shook her head. “This isn’t really a competition.”

“No.” The corner of her lip twitched. “But I’d still be winning.” 

Haseul held her gaze. Then she nodded once. “Don’t take what’s mine.”

Understanding was there. It didn’t make her angry to see it, because she knew that Chaewon really did know this. She’d lived with it for years instead of days. 

“He put all of it into your mind,” Chaewon said. “Let me just move it so it can start settling again.” Her eyes were already glazing over. Haseul felt the push on the darkness. It wasn’t like how the darkness had surged into her mind. It was gentle. 

“So I forget it again?” Haseul closed her eyes. The memories were still there. “I don’t want that.”

“I know,” she said. “And I’m not taking any of that. I’m just making it so that it hurts less.” She squeezed her hand. “You’ll still remember, but you won't see it as often.” 

Haseul could feel how the cold moved, but it didn’t combat the light. Chaewon seemed to be making sure of that. That it wouldn’t hurt her. 

She felt it go somewhere without leaving her. She realised then it was going to where it had been before. She’d never forgotten her time trapped in the mountains or after that, but it had retreated into her. Somehow. 

She felt the smallest flicker of warmth then. Not from the outside or even the light, but her own mind. It was like when she’d been watching the others laughing together. 

It got more, not getting rid of the cold that was still there, but joining it. There was a feeling building in her chest. 

No, not building. It had already been there. She just hadn’t been able to focus on it before. 

“There,” Chaewon said. “Finished.”

Haseul opened her eyes. “It didn’t hurt you doing that, did it?” 

She gave her a look. “And even if it did, it’s gone already.” Her expression softened then. “How do you feel?” 

“Warmer,” Haseul said. “And it’s not going away.” 

Chaewon smiled fully then. Haseul almost thought she could see sprinkles of light in her eyes. “Good.”

Haseul pulled her into a hug, careful not to make her twist or bend for the sake of her chest. She also avoided touching her arm. 

“Thank you.” 

“I’m just glad you weren’t staying stubborn,” Chaewon said. “Thought I’d have to be here until sunset for you to finally let me.” Her good hand let go of Haseul’s and patted her head. “I had speeches about guilt and letting people help you ready.” 

Haseul wondered if it had been building and that was why the words made her burst into tears. Either that or laughing also triggered the urge to cry. 

Chaewon still held her, now her head. 

“I did this already,” Haseul sighed, “I thought I’d—” She stopped herself. 

“You don’t really ever run out of tears,” Chaewon said. “Or at least you always get them back to lose them again.” She gently pushed Haseul back upright. “It might happen next week with nothing in between and you should let that happen.” She was teary-eyed as well. “So is it just that you feel warmer now or is there more?”

Haseul focused on her mind. The deep cold was still there, but so much less. The warmth she had no gave her more comfort than she would have ever thought it would have. 

“It’s quieter.” She closed her eyes again. The memories were all still there, but they didn’t flood into her mind. “What did you do?” 

“He took the darkness from your shadow too,” Chaewon said. “And put it all in your mind. It’s not meant to be there. Sometimes people hang on to it and it stays, but other times it goes there. Never leaves you, but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost it.”

"How do you know that so well?" Haseul asked. "Because you had both in that time?"

Chaewon just nodded. "I couldn't control it, I didn't try, but I could see the differences."

Haseul looked down. Their shadows extended just a short way away from them. When there was no moonlight, they didn’t even have shadows, but there almost always was. Even if the moon wasn’t in the sky, their skin would shine, always casting a shadow behind them. “Is it there at night too?” 

“It’s a part of the darkness around you,” Chaewon said. “Doesn’t really move further away. It’s just there.” 

Haseul could only nod. She felt at her chest then. The strange feeling was still there. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. She didn’t know what it was. 

She looked at Chaewon only to see worry in her eyes. 

“Does it feel like nothing’s there?” Chaewon asked slowly. “It’s not painful, but it aches?” 

Haseul tried to concentrate on it and she barely found what it was. Only that something wasn’t there. “It feels empty.” 

Something deflated in Chaewon then. She took her hand again. 

“The darkness had been there for so long. It destroyed some of my light,” Haseul said. “Is that why?” 

She just nodded. 

Haseul just dropped her hand. Better nothing than those memories piercing themselves into her mind. It also wasn’t everywhere. It was something she could ignore more easily. 

Chaewon was looking at the ground. Something had crept into her expression. She looked torn. 

“What’s on your mind?” Haseul asked. 

She glanced up at her, the look in her eyes started to go away, but then it came back. “Just thinking about what comes next.”

“What comes next?” she repeated. It explained the look in Chaewon’s eyes, but she couldn’t believe it. Not now. 

Chaewon shook her head. “Nothing right now,” she said. “We don’t have to talk about this.” 

“You just helped make my worst memories a bit more bearable.” Haseul nudged her good arm. If she focused on them long enough she saw them, but she could focus on only Chaewon now. “If you want to, you can tell me anything. I’m here.” 

Chaewon looked back to the tents, doubt now crossing her expression. 

A part of Haseul wanted to encourage that, so that she’d change her mind. The other understood why Chaewon was even considering this, maybe even already decided. She didn’t know that part yet. 

“I’m going back to camp to see what it’ll be like,” Chaewon said. Her eyes softened, revealing the guilt Haseul had become so used to seeing. “But I don’t think I’m staying.” 

Haseul’s heart sank. “You’re leaving?” 

"I don't know yet," she looked away, "but I don't feel—there's no place for me there.”

“That’s not true,” Haseul said. “There’s one here.” She waved at their tiny camp. “You know that, don’t you?” 

Chaewon smiled, but it was sad. “I feel better than I have in years, and that’s just by being here,” she said. “But this isn’t what I,” she faltered, “it’s not normal for me. It doesn’t feel like the way it was before and it doesn’t feel right. Not for me.”

“You can let yourself be happy,” Haseul said. “Don’t leave so you can deny yourself that.”

“That’s not why I’m leaving.” Chaewon was looking at her hands now. “I’m leaving so I can be happy later.” She swallowed once. “I can’t be happy now. I don’t—” She grit her teeth. “I don’t want to be.” 

Haseul tightened her grip on her hand. “Chae,” she started. 

She shook her head. “Things can be like they were before, but I can’t be here when they are.” Tears were appearing in the corners of her eyes. “It’s too much to stay here and just be—I—” She closed her eyes. 

“You can’t forgive yourself,” Haseul finished. 

“If the rest of you want to move on, if Hyejoo,” she took a deep breath, “wants to let go of her anger so she can be happy again, I’m not going to be able to help with that.” More tears were falling. “I’d just make it worse for all of you.” 

“And we’d make it worse for you?” Haseul asked. She watched as Chaewon looked at her, confused. “If we try to move on while you’re not, it just makes it worse, because you can’t?”

“I don’t want to,” Chaewon whispered. She looked ashamed. 

The weight in her chest grew. She knew that Chaewon would never forgive herself, but would she really never try to let go? To move on? 

“That’s why I’ll go,” she said. “Maybe it’ll help not to be here. I’ll always make myself remember here, tell myself that I shouldn’t be here, not when I’m a reason we were apart for so long.” 

Haseul took note that she’d said ‘a reason’ and not ‘the reason’. It was something, wasn’t it?

“That part wasn’t just you,” Haseul said slowly. “Our anger did just as much.”

“And who was the reason for that?” 

“Not just you,” she replied. Then it dawned on her. “Do they know?”

“Jiwoo might.” Chaewon looked away again. “But I haven’t said anything yet,” she said. “I don’t want to do this to them, but I can’t—” She closed . “I thought I’d want to stay if the pain was gone. I never even dreamed that we’d have this again. That any of you would talk to us this way, to me.” The smallest of smiles appeared. “And I don’t want to ruin that, because I can’t let go of before.” 

“I don’t think you would.” Haseul wondered if it was any use. If Jiwoo didn’t know yet, she would because Haseul was certain Chaewon’s path was set. “You know you’re surrounded by people who can’t let go of these things either.” 

A small chuckle. “I know.”

“But?”

“Maybe I come back next year,” Chaewon sighed, “or in ten. I don’t know.” She gave her a weak smile. “But I need to try. If I can get myself away from the pain or if it gets worse, if I can just be alone—if I can somehow let go that way, I need to try.” 

Haseul had several protests that wanted to make themselves known, but she held them back. Chaewon would already face enough when she told the other two so she opted for only one thing to say. 

“I’d love it if you stayed,” Haseul told her. “I meant it when I said I wanted my friends back. I missed you.” 

She saw Chaewon struggle to keep the next wave of emotions at bay, but she managed. 

“So did I,” Chaewon said. “That’s why I’ll come back.” The smile was a bit brighter. 

Haseul could only nod. She didn’t want to push Chaewon. She just hoped that she’d stay a little while longer. For all of them, including Chaewon herself. 

______

Vivi woke to quiet noises. She heard rustling. Small whimpers. 

She sat up. It was still day, but the light was fading. Still hours until night really began. 

Haseul’s arms were searching, writhing along the ground, fingers digging into the furs. Her face was twisted. She was the one whimpering. 

Vivi went over to her. She shook her once. “Haseul.”

She jerked away and there was a sharp cry. Her eyes were still closed. 

“Wake up.” Vivi shook her harder. 

Then she screamed. 

Vivi took her hand away. 

Haseul’s eyes opened and Vivi saw a brief flash of that fear. She felt it too. Terror. 

“What happened?” It was Yeojin. The others were coming into the tent. 

“Just a dream,” Haseul said, her voice sharp. “I’m fine.” She was crying. 

“Haseul,” Heejin started. 

“Stop,” she snapped. “It was just a nightmare.” She looked between them. “After everything, that’s normal.” 

Vivi bit back her words then. You didn’t go through what I did. Her heart sank. You went through worse. 

“What was everything?” Yeojin asked. 

Haseul almost seemed to recoil then. “Don’t ask me that.” Her eyes flicked between them, still scared.

“Why—“

“Please,” Haseul’s voice broke, “not now.” 

Yeojin frowned. 

“Just,” Haseul shrank away, “go” 

“Haseul, I,” Yeojin started.

“Get out.” Her voice was quiet, but still sharp. As if she’d shout if anyone disagreed now. 

Yeojin met Vivi’s eyes then, almost pleading. Then she left. 

Vivi didn’t move from where she was, her knees digging into the ground under the furs. 

“All of you.” Haseul was still upright, her shoulders straight. “Out.”

Heejin, Sooyoung, and Yerim exchanged looks then. Then they left. Jungeun lingered, looking between Haseul and Vivi. 

“Please.” Haseul sounded just short of defeated. It hurt Vivi to hear it. She nearly left too. 

Jungeun just nodded before turning around. The look of understanding paired with so much pain stayed in Vivi’s mind. 

Haseul was staring at the entrance of the tent. 

“Me too?” Vivi asked then. 

She looked over at her. That defeat was in her eyes now. “You think I’m weak, don’t you?” 

Vivi shook her head. How could she ask this now? After all of this? “I don’t—“

“Don’t lie to me,” Haseul hissed. “Stop trying to—”

“Stop what?” Vivi cut her off, but she kept her voice quiet. “Seem like I understand?” 

There was a flicker of irritation behind the anger, but that was already fading into guilt. 

“Because I do understand,” she said. “And even if I don’t, that doesn’t mean I can’t see if you’re strong or not, because you are.” A memory flashed in her mind. Right before Haseul had left them. The small smile, the reassurance that she’d be alright, that they’d be able to get her out of there. 

And Vivi hadn’t been able to. The others had. 

“I don’t need years to figure that out.”

Haseul just shook her head. “I spent years shoving it all away,” she whispered. “That’s not being strong. I was a coward.” She closed her eyes and tears slid out. “Chaewon pulled the darkness from my mind, made it less loud, but it doesn’t change it.”

“Doesn’t change what?” 

“What I did,” Haseul sank even further into herself. “That I forgot.” 

“Did you get someone to help you?” Vivi asked. It wasn’t unusual. “I did.” 

She looked up, starting to frown. 

“Whenever I fought and it got too much,” she started, “sometimes when I lost someone, or when I killed too many, or just one, I—” She wondered how this sounded to her. She’d gone to the fairies right in the beginning too, but also after that. Sometimes it was easier. “They didn’t take the memories. They never did, but they put them in a place that I wouldn’t remember easily. Somewhere I wouldn’t dream about those faces.” 

Haseul looked away. The look on her face told her easily what she needed to know. She’d gotten enough from the way Haseul acted, from how she’d looked before, after the battle, and now. She told herself that was how she’d know about what happened. She wouldn’t ask. She couldn’t now. 

“And maybe that makes me weak,” Vivi said. “But when it gets impossible to even use my magic or hold a knife,” she shrugged, “I went to them so I could keep fighting.”

Something seemed to give way in her eyes then. “I don’t think I want to fight,” she said. “I fought then, because I need to, but now,” she trailed off. “I don’t know if it’s the guilt being fresh now or if it’s really me just not wanting to kill someone again.” 

Silence.

For one of the first times, Haseul wasn’t hiding. She’d not worn a mask before everything, but she’d been scrambling to put one together since the fight. Now there wasn’t any illusion of strength in her eyes, only the shaky strings of her trying to pull something together. 

Vivi wanted to take her hand again. Do something that was helpful that didn’t just mean her words. A growing part of her was getting tired, even with the fight getting further away with each second. Maybe that was why the exhaustion was taking hold of her. 

She wondered how tired Haseul was. Tired enough to risk sleep and be into her past again, but would she try to stay awake now?

“Did they ever make you watch?” Haseul asked then. “Take what you did—everything—and make you relive it?” 

She closed her eyes. It was clear enough that he’d done something like that. Of course he had. She felt fresh hatred blooming for Alluin. She knew it would stain her light more, but it didn’t matter. 

“They put me on trial,” Vivi said. She pulled her voice down to be even quieter. “Twice.” 

Haseul stiffened. 

“It wasn’t,” she started. 

“I’ve never been on one of their trials,” Haseul said. “Maybe had an encounter with one of the fae, but not like what they do there.” She swallowed once. “Can I ask why?”

Vivi nodded. “Whenever someone thought they had to see if my motivation had been to kill, or survive, or see some sort of justice brought about.” In the state Haseul was in now, a part of her knew she would have to spare her of most details. “If they found any bloodlust, they made me live it a third time.” 

Haseul held her gaze. There wasn’t really the understanding she’d seen in Jungeun’s eyes, but something like it. The one that so clearly told her that Haseul didn’t want to understand, but she did. 

“It took some time to stop falling into a dream that made me relive something again.” 

Something cracked in Haseul’s eyes then. She didn’t tear up, but that didn’t make the look in them now any better. 

“I’m sorry,” Haseul whispered. “I shouldn’t have tried to say,” her brow furrowed, “I shouldn't have thought you wouldn’t understand.”

“You didn’t know,” Vivi replied. “And I didn’t tell you. Until now.” 

Haseul only nodded. There was still that look in her eyes. It hurt to see. It was worse to see it framed by guilt. 

It really did seem like an emotion that was drawn to them. She had half a mind to ask Dahyun if that was possible. 

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. 

“You don’t have to be,” Vivi said. 

She shook her head. “I mean about before.” 

Vivi remembered how she’d run. The last she’d seen of Haseul was her retreating figure. She’d let her run right to Alluin. Then he’d done this to her. “I wasn’t the one who had to face him.” A part of her still felt the remnants of the anger, but it was more to Alluin than it could ever be for Haseul. The rest of her just felt hurt. 

“You came here,” Haseul’s eyes went to the edge of the tent, “both of you did, because of me.” Her jaw tightened. “And then I left you there.” 

Vivi nodded. “You did.” 

“Yeojin didn’t know and you only knew the day before,” she paused, “but none of you knew what I was walking into. I didn’t know either.” 

“He could’ve killed you,” Vivi said. She wondered if that was the wrong thing to say or if it was wise to talk about it now, but a part of her had to. “And you knew that.” 

Haseul nodded. 

“Was it worth it?” 

She looked away. 

“Because maybe it was,” Vivi said. “Even if I wish you’d never gone.” 

Haseul frowned, looking at her. 

“Zelena made some stay behind,” Vivi told her. “Even if it wasn’t everyone, it was more people who survived than if she hadn’t done that. If you hadn’t told her to try.” 

“She told you that?” 

She nodded. 

The tension in Haseul seemed to fade. “Do you know her well? She told me some, but only briefly.”

Vivi nodded again. “We were both in the mountains together at one point. Sent there to better control our abilities.” She tried for a smile. “It was nice to find a friend in the same situation, but we didn’t see each other often after that. Especially not after they’d forced her out.” A part of her wish she’d tried to find her. Maybe she’d have seen her before she’d reached Alluin. She didn’t know. She’d never know either. “I’ll go see her in some weeks. Go to the mountains where they are.” 

Haseul smiled, but it was weak.

“You could come with me?” Vivi wondered again if she was saying the right thing. “Would you want to?”

Haseul just nodded. There was a distant edge to her eyes. “Do you think they’d want to see me? I’m one of the reasons why they had to leave their camp. Maybe even their home.” 

“Would you have preferred them attacking ours?”

She shook her head, but then looked at her, something in her eyes softening. “Ours?”

Vivi smiled. 

Haseul reached over, taking her hand. “I shouldn’t have waited to tell the two of you,” she said. “I didn’t want you knowing sooner. Maybe even figuring a way to go with me there, get yourselves caught, because you would have.” 

I wish we had. I wish I had.

“And I would have never forgiven myself if he’d done what he’d done to me to you.” 

Was Vivi supposed to forgive herself for letting her go?

“I know.” Vivi squeezed her hand. “And we can’t change what happened.” 

Haseul’s eyes were slowly getting teary again. 

Vivi pulled her into her arms. 

“I’m sorry,” Haseul whispered. She repeated it. 

“You don’t have to apologise to me.” 

“I do. I forced you into this. Convinced you to do this. Not just you, but—” She broke off. 

“I know you told Chaewon before,” Vivi said. “And Jungeun.” It could have been easy to be hurt by that. That Haseul would have told them enough that they knew what would happen before she did. Though it was also easy to figure out the reasoning behind both. “I just wish you’d have given us a way to find you too.” She brushed a hand through her hair. “But I know why you didn’t.” 

“Even if it was a dumb idea," a new voice said. 

They looked up. Yeojin was there. 

“Can I come in?” she asked, not meeting their eyes. 

“Come here.” Haseul’s voice was even softer now. “I’m sorry I sent you out. That I sent you away, that I—”

“Stop.” Yeojin walked over, she pressed a kiss to the top of Haseul’s head, before putting her arms around them both. “I know you are.” 

“But?” Haseul looked both expectant and hesitant. 

“When you left,” Yeojin began, “I thought I’d never see you again. You kept saying how dangerous it was, you didn’t want us there with you.” Her jaw tightened, her eyes burning a bright orange. “I know you did it because you thought it would help, but you—” She stopped. 

“You can say it.” Haseul’s voice was warm, even despite the fragility still being there. 

“You didn’t know they were there, you didn’t know there was anyone who’d listen to anything you’d say. You didn’t know what they’d do to you.” She faltered again. “But you still left.” 

Haseul opened . 

“Don’t apologise,” Yeojin said. “Like you said,” she smiled once at Vivi, “we can’t change it.” She looked back at Haseul and her eyes became extremely gentle. “Don’t cry,” her voice cracked, “you’ll make me cry.” 

Haseul buried her face in Yeojin’s shoulder. Her shoulders were shaking. 

Yeojin’s arm around Vivi tightened as she pulled them both closer. Vivi pat her back. 

“I’m guessing you were listening?” Vivi asked. 

“Of course.” Yeojin smiled, but her eyes were tight. “I can’t stay mad at you, you know,” she said quietly. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Haseul let out a strained hum. 

“Just don’t do all this alone,” Yeojin said. “I don’t understand what you went through. I don’t know how to help you, but don’t push me away.” A second passed. Then three. “Please.” 

“I won’t,” Haseul said, her voice still slightly muffled. “But I need—I can’t always—”

“When you need to be alone, I’ll leave you alone.” Yeojin closed her eyes, resting her head against Haseul’s. “I can tell the difference.” 

Haseul laughed softly. “I know.” 

They stayed that way for a bit. Vivi was almost relieved she hadn’t been told to go, but there had been no indication she wasn’t welcome there. Not even the fear of it. That thought made her happier than she would’ve thought. 

“But if you ever do that again,” Yeojin said suddenly. “I'm not going to be that forgiving and I'll shout at you.” 

"Me too,” Vivi added. 

Another laugh as Haseul finally lifted her head. Her eyes were still teary, but she smiled. “I’ll deserve it.”

Yeojin then insisted that they lay down, because her back was still sore. She also made Haseul lie in the middle. 

Haseul was the first to fall asleep. Yeojin followed a few minutes later. 

Vivi couldn’t fall asleep. A part of her wanted to make sure that no dreams would strike either of them. The other just wanted to take in this moment of peace. All that would happen tomorrow was they’d wake, make breakfast, maybe rest longer here, before starting to make their way back. At least for now, and with the exception of spirits, they wouldn’t be fighting anyone. 

They were safe. 

______

The pain was fading in her chest. Both that of the wound and that of the bond. It was a strange feeling. 

Falling asleep was easier, even if the dreams that came to her held memories that were both hers and not her own. 

But Chaewon didn’t wake freezing. She didn’t wake up with tears seeping from her eyes. 

She woke up to cold, but the night felt better than it had in a long time. 

They were getting ready to go on. The journey was far slower than it had been on the way here, but she was thankful for that. She didn’t want to get back sooner than they had to. She almost didn’t want to go back at all, but she pushed the thought down before it could take shape fully. 

Now, Chaewon rolled the tent into a ball, before wrapping it in a thin rope. It was hard to do with both hands, her other arm still half mangled, but she forced herself through it. Some of the movements still sent a sharp pain through her chest too. Jinsoul had banned her from doing anything completely strenuous. If she would get her way completely, Chaewon was sure she’d make someone carry her, or Yerim have her on a bed of earth as they walked. Though her attention was split between them. When she’d realised the extent of Sooyoung’s injuries, she’d almost held her down to get healing draughts in her and to draw out runes (even with the protests of the rest that she was tiring herself out again). 

She watched now as Hyunjin and Heejin had a silent stare-down, before Hyunjin picked up one of the bags with their provisions. Heejin grabbed two, before Haseul plucked one away, giving Hyunjin a pointed look. 

Hyunjin gave the bag to Jiwoo, before going and giving Haseul a hug. Chaewon didn’t listen to what she said. She turned her attention to what she’d attach the tent to. No one was going to let her carry anything either. 

“Here.” It was Hyejoo. She held out another rolled up tent. “Jungeun said she’d carry them.” She was leaning on wooden stick. With how its sides were smoothed, she knew that was from Yerim. 

Chaewon took it, before attaching them. “Thank you.” 

Hyejoo didn’t walk away after that. 

Chaewon tried not to look surprised. She just attached the tents to each other, before putting them with the rest. Jungeun would know where to take those. 

Hyejoo was still there. 

Chaewon looked at her. The walk in the woods had went better than anything Chaewon had ever dreamed of having, but it hadn’t changed all that much. She hadn’t spoken much to Hyejoo since, but her words had stayed in her mind. As had her smile, however small. 

“Can we,” Hyejoo started, looking at the ground, “walk together?” 

Chaewon looked to where Sooyoung and Jiwoo were. 

“Just you and me,” Hyejoo said. “But we can tell them to catch up after a bit if you don’t want—I just—” She grimaced. 

She was struck by the familiarity of it all. She knew this Hyejoo from so many years ago. When they’d first become friends, when Hyejoo hadn’t known how to ask if she’d go on a hunt with her, or ask her to put the moonlight on her swords. 

When she’d started to be nervous around her for a different reason. The same for Chaewon. 

She swallowed down the fresh pain that the memories brought. Those were memories separated from the present by more than just time. 

“We can,” Chaewon said. The thought of spending time alone with Hyejoo didn’t fill her with dread. The guilt was there. She wondered if it would always bubble up. 

They ended up leaving the camp first, neither of them being allowed to do anything else. 

“It’s kind of nice,” Hyejoo said after they’d walked a few hundred metres. “Not having to do all of that work.” 

“No setting up or cleaning up,” Chaewon nodded, “even the cooking.”

She looked at her then, her brow raising. “You cook?”

It took her a few moments to realise why she was confused. “I got better,” she said. She didn’t mention that it was because both of them had had their moments where neither could cook. That the meals they’d loved from the others had stopped coming and left them at their own fire pit. “Jiwoo and Soo even started requesting dishes.”

The corners of Hyejoo’s lips tugged up. “I’ll need to see proof of that.” 

Chaewon shook her head. “Don’t think the others would let me do any cooking.” She realised then she was alluding to that time. The others didn’t really know what had changed in those years either. “Pulls a little too much.” She pointed at her chest. 

“Then when you’re better.” Hyejoo met her eyes once. 

Chaewon nodded, before looking away. 

They kept walking. The silence left Chaewon debating if she should ask her why Hyejoo was here. Why she’d even want to be alone with her. She didn’t have to be. A part of her wondered if it was because of what had happened. She didn’t want Hyejoo to feel obligated to be here. 

“Hyejoo,” she started. 

“Rai has your eyes,” Hyejoo said. 

The wolf spirit.

Chaewon didn’t look at her. She knew that. 

“When I saw them, I thought of you. I had before, but then,” she paused, “they reminded me of what I hadn’t wanted to remember.” 

Chaewon waited. 

“The good.” Hyejoo paused. “The eyes made me think of the good.” 

She didn’t know what to say. A part of her almost wanted to apologise, but she couldn’t stop her memories. She also knew that Hyejoo wouldn’t want to hear another apology. Not after everything. 

“I saw something too,” Chaewon said. “When I touched him, I saw you. Before.” It had been one of her more vivid memories, made even more so by the wolf. 

Hyejoo’s eyes did hold that same light now. Seeing her now, knowing she had the light, the thought warmed Chaewon’s heart. 

“I think it’s because he’s connected to the bond.” Hyejoo looked her way. “I thought it was a twisted thing of fate that he’d have your eyes, but it was the bond.” 

Chaewon almost said that it might have still been a cruel joke from fate. Especially at the time the wolf would have come to her.

“Do you think it was meant to be repaired?” Hyejoo asked. 

Something twisted in her chest at the thought. Of all the questions for Hyejoo to ask, did it have to be this one? 

“Alluin thought it was,” Hyejoo said. “And he was right. Somehow.” 

“He either knew what would come, or he was just trying to see if it was possible,” Chaewon replied. 

Destroying the light doesn’t kill. 

And it hadn’t killed her. It hadn’t made her stronger, but it had taken that pain from her. 

“And it was.” Hyejoo’s voice was quiet. She didn’t know what the tone was there. 

Chaewon didn’t want to talk about the bond. She didn’t want to answer Hyejoo’s question, because she didn’t know what her answer was supposed to be. 

“Yesterday,” Chaewon started instead, “how did you know about Torrin? What he offered?”

“I didn’t know why he’d been sent,” Hyejoo said. Her brow had furrowed, but she didn’t look irritated by the change of subject. “But it wasn’t hard to think of a few reasons.” 

“It was his test,” Chaewon shook her head, “to see what you—what I—how far I’d go.” Like the bond he’d offered to fix, but she didn’t add that. 

“And you didn’t do it.” 

“He would’ve killed me,” Chaewon said. There was nothing to 

“You didn’t know that,” Hyejoo replied. “We didn’t know if he would’ve killed us after offering to fix the bond. You still said no.” Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

“They’re your memories,” she whispered. “It would be taking a part of you away and it wouldn’t—wouldn’t have made a difference.” 

“It would have,” Hyejoo muttered. “That was the point of it.” 

Chaewon looked away. 

“You told us he’d come for the others who were changing,” she said. “But he’d come for you. Why didn’t you say that?” 

“He’d told me he’d been there for them too, but I was still the target. He might’ve sent someone to Hyunjin and Yerim too, but I think I,” Chaewon paused, “he thought I’d be the one most likely to turn to their side.”

Hyejoo’s jaw was clenched. “And he was a fool.” 

“The other two were even less likely,” Chaewon said. “He just believed I’d want to end the pain somehow. Even if that included becoming a traitor.” 

She looked at her. “You didn’t want it to end?”

Chaewon shook her head. “I never wanted to live with that pain, but I was able to. It wasn’t excruciating and it wasn’t as if I—” She stopped. “I didn’t need the pain to end. Both Alluin and Torrin thought I’d do anything to reverse it, to have some chance of having the life we’d had before.” The moment she said it, she knew how that sounded. 

But it was true. Almost. 

She didn’t look Hyejoo’s way. She didn’t want to know what she thought. 

“How did he try to convince you?” Hyejoo asked.

Chaewon remembered the words that had struck her. 

I just have to make her forgive you. 

“He offered what I didn’t want.”

“Chae—Chaewon.” Hyejoo’s voice made her look over. She looked small. 

Chaewon stopped walking. 

“Do you not want me in your life anymore?” Hyejoo’s voice trembled. “Do you think I don’t?”

“I thought you didn’t,” Chaewon said. She thought of what she’d told Haseul. Nothing had changed for her there. She didn’t know if she wanted to tell her that now. 

“At first,” she held her gaze, “but that changed. You know that. I—do you?”

Chaewon could only nod. 

“But you don’t want me to?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?” 

Hyejoo just looked back at her. 

“Just because I’ve said no to what they’ve offered, doesn’t mean,” Chaewon stopped herself. How could she say it right? “Both times it was them trying to act as though they could take something away, or give anything back to me—us—for things to be normal again.” She didn’t want to keep seeing the expression in Hyejoo’s face. It looked too close to doubt. “But it can’t be like it used to be. Not after what I’ve done.” She reached out, but pulled her hand back. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want you in my life.” 

Hyejoo’s eyes were on her hand. “Really?”

Chaewon nodded. “But I don’t know—I don’t know how—what that would be like.” 

“I don’t either.” Hyejoo started to walk again. “But you don’t always have to know.” 

The way she said it sounded strange to her. As if it was so obvious for Hyejoo. 

But it wasn’t to Chaewon. She thought of Hyejoo’s words when she’d woken. How she’d taken Chaewon into her arms without a moment hesitation. 

“This isn’t all because,” Chaewon started. Was she overstepping? Would she break the peace that had finally settled over the air? “Because of what happened?” 

Hyejoo was already shaking her head. “I said it yesterday. It’s about more than that. What you did isn’t what changed my mind, but it made it clearer.”

Made what clearer? She nearly asked that, but she didn’t know what she’d say. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear it. Everything was so different. Too much. 

They kept walking. Chaewon managed to change the subject to carefully asking Hyejoo about the time in between. 

She told her about how she’d learned how to carry out jobs that avoided killing most of the time. About how she learned to use her magic to hide better, how to infiltrate. She told her what she learned about the humans, about what their societies were like. 

Chaewon had missed hearing her voice. A part of her knew that Hyejoo had missed talking She hadn’t spoken so much before, but so much time had passed. So much Chaewon didn’t know anything about. 

So she kept asking questions, thankful that Hyejoo wanted to answer them. 

She didn’t have much to tell her about the years for her, but that was alright. Hyejoo seemed to understand that the time was one to talk about less than hers. 

They walked until Hyejoo had to take a break for her legs. 

Heejin caught up to them then, Hyunjin, Yerim, Jungeun, and Jinsoul in tow. Chaewon was grateful for that as well. 

Though Hyejoo stayed by her side for a lot of the walk. Jinsoul was on her other, having taken her hand halfway through. She hadn’t spoken much to her, but the added warmth in the palm of her hand was something she appreciated more than anything. 

It let her focus on being there as well. 

She realised then why so much seemed strange, from waking up to the others chatting and laughing as they made breakfast to the sunrises spent together just before they went to sleep. All of it felt like a dream. Everything that was happening now was more than she could have ever hoped for a few months ago. 

Maybe that was why it felt like too much. 

______

Hyunjin’s chest hurt as she moved, so did her side, but it was all made better by the healing draughts. A part of her wondered what those mixtures would be like for a mortal. She also didn’t want to try, more than certain that there was the chance of the mortal dying because of the potency. 

She pulled on the shadows, letting some of it settle over her chest. It actually helped soothe the pain. It was harder to use that magic in the sun, but it was alright. 

Then she reached the tree Heejin was leaning against. 

“You should be asleep.” She squinted up at her. The sun was shining down. Heejin would probably have a brief sunburn after this. 

“I know.” Hyunjin sat down beside her. “I can sleep here.” 

Heejin took her hand almost immediately. “How do you feel?” 

“I can breathe better.” Hyunjin patted the back of her hand. “You?” 

She was looking at her, a small smile on her face. Just seeing it warmed her heart. 

“I’m good,” Heejin said. “Little bored.” She chuckled lightly. 

“Do we really need to take watch?” Hyunjin leaned against her side. “There’s been no one.”

“Not taking any risks,” Heejin replied. “And you just know Jungeun would be out here if I wasn’t.” 

Hyunjin thought of how Jungeun hovered still around the camp, trying to go and make meals first or taking down the tents. The ones least ‘hurt’ did that, while also close to fighting each other for camp duties, with Haseul telling Jungeun to rest, or Jungeun forcing Heejin to sit back down. Jiwoo more often than not ended up being the most insistent. Except she was exhausted too. They all were still. 

“Want to take a nap? I’ll wake you if you have to protect me.” 

Heejin shot her a look. “You can take a nap.”

“I don’t want to.” 

“You should.” Heejin sighed. “It’ll be a long night.” 

Because they’d be back tomorrow. A part of her wondered if they could all just leave the camp together. She almost wanted that. 

But that was also because she didn’t want to be back in the camp. She had everything here. She wasn’t scared of what would happen here. 

She was scared of what it would be like when they returned. 

“We could stay a night longer,” Heejin said then. “I don’t think anyone would say they need to get back.” 

“They’ll be wanting to know what happened.” Hyunjin shook her head. “More time passes, maybe they’ll just start drawing even more conclusions than they already have.” If she wanted to try staying there, they’d need to get there in time. 

But she was glad they’d had this together. She knew the rest loved it as much as she did. They’d do it again one day. Maybe they would manage to leave together for a time. For what, she didn’t know, but they’d find a way. 

“They thought we’d betrayed the Astra,” Hyunjin said. “We threatened them. They were terrified.” 

“I know what they thought,” Heejin nodded, “Jiwoo slapped Kolina.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened. “What?”

She smiled, looking almost proud. “I might have to be Jiwoo’s shield when we get back, but I don’t mind.”

Hyunjin smiled as well, but she couldn’t help but remember the looks in their eyes. They would never forget that. She didn’t think they’d ever forgive them. She didn’t know how much that mattered, but it would. 

“I don’t know what it’ll be like when we get back,” Hyunjin said. 

“Me neither,” Heejin muttered. “But they won’t be able to do anything. I won’t let them.”

She gave her a look. “You can’t fight the camp.”

“Eline and Nuala will be on our side this time,” Heejin said. “Freya will be too. I know it.” 

“But will that be enough?”

“I’m not letting that happen again,” Heejin said. “Not this time.” There was some anger there, but not as much as before. Instead it was more determination.

Hyunjin pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I know you won’t.” 

“But?” Heejin’s brow was starting to furrow. “You don’t think it’ll be enough?”

“It will,” she said. “But I don’t know what it’ll mean for after. How it would be to live there and most of the camp wouldn’t want us there.” 

“You haven’t changed. None of you have.“

“Hyejoo hadn’t either.” Hyunjin sighed. “And yes it’s different now. Yes, they know, but I don’t want to be somewhere I’m not welcome.” She knew that the others had lived with that. Jungeun had gone through it first, the first of the other elves to have their magic. Then Vivi, one to come from the fae, who would still be treated like an outsider when they returned. 

Wasn’t she supposed to have decided to stay? To try and be there and make the rest see they hadn’t changed? That their magic was not evil? Weren’t they supposed to try and change their minds? 

“Then we’ll go,” Heejin said. 

“You can’t go,” Hyunjin replied. “They—“

“They don’t need me.” She fixed her with a look. Then it softened, the worry there fading. Or being pushed down. 

Hyunjin knew the thought that had behind it. 

Please don’t run again. 

But she didn’t want Heejin to leave the camp. Not when she was the one who could truly change things. 

And she didn’t want to be without Heejin again. Not like that. 

“I love you,” Hyunjin murmured. She leaned into Heejin’s side. 

"I love you too." Heejin put an arm around her. “Whatever you do, tell me first?” she asked. “Please?”

“I will.”  

“Whatever you need,” Heejin started, “just tell me. Even if you’re leaving.” 

Hyunjin nodded once. She focused on Heejin’s breathing. On her heartbeat. 

“Sleep,” Heejin whispered.

“I’m scared,” Hyunjin said.

“Of?” Her voice was soft. Hyunjin focused on that. 

“That I’m not going home—that it’s not—” She broke off. “I want this all to be over. Really over.” 

Heejin was quiet. She held her tighter.

“Because it isn’t,” Hyunjin kept her voice quiet, “and I wish it was.” 

“We’re safe,” Heejin said. “You’re safe.” She looked down at her, catching her eye. Her smile was shaky, but it was warm. “I promise.” 

And Hyunjin knew she’d keep it. The thought should have given her more comfort than it did, but it didn’t quell her worries. She didn’t want Heejin having to do this. Not after what had happened. 

“I just want to stay like this,” Hyunjin said. “For all of us to be able to stay like this.” 

“Me too.” She ran a hand through her hair. “But we’ll have some time still. And we don’t have to be in camp the entire time either. We’ll find time.” 

Hyunjin closed her eyes. 

She concentrated on the low hum that came from Heejin. She nearly asked where the melody was from, but she was too tired. 

It was easy to drift away. Sleep came so much easier. She wondered if it was the exhaustion or simply the thought of not needing to fight. She knew it was somewhere in between both. 

______

Jinsoul dreamed of fire. 

She saw her, trapped in a cage of flames. Her skin glowed, but fire was the source. It tore through Jungeun's skin. 

When Jinsoul tried to move, she heard everything. The roaring of the flames and Jungeun’s screams.

She tried to call on the water. On the light.

Nothing came. 

She could only feel the hot air, the burning in her chest. She couldn’t draw on the anger. She could only watch. 

Jungeun’s eyes filled completely with red. The scream died in .

Jinsoul watched as Jungeun stumbled, her skin glowing red. Her eyes weren’t seeing anything. 

And then Jungeun crumpled to the floor. The flames died around her.

She felt the fire in her chest fade. 

Jinsoul ran to her. She turned her around, Jungeun’s skin burning her hands. 

She stared up at the sky. Her eyes were drowned in red. They were empty. She was gone.

Jinsoul screamed. 

She woke with a start. She saw the canopy above. It wasn’t night yet. 

“Soul?” Jungeun was there. “Are you okay?” 

Jinsoul squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want Jungeun to see this dream. She couldn’t let her see it. 

“It’s alright,” Jungeun whispered. She gathered her into her arms. 

She wasn’t screaming. Her voice was gentle as she spoke in her ear, telling her the dream was over. 

Jinsoul clung to her. “A nightmare,” she said. She didn’t want Jungeun to let her go. She needed her to keep holding her. 

Jungeun pulled her closer. She was warm. Parts of her hands felt even warmer. 

“How do you feel?” Jinsoul asked. She opened her eyes, turning so she could see her. 

Jungeun’s brow had furrowed, but her eyes were warm as she looked at her. “Me?”

Jinsoul took one of her hands. She could feel the lines of anger there. “Does it still hurt?” 

She opened , before closing it again. “It does.” 

Jinsoul took in the way her eyes glowed. Less fiercely orange, and more the burning red they usually were. The cracks along her skin were less vibrant than in her dream. 

“Are you cold?” Jungeun asked. 

“A bit.” 

The air around them started to warm, so did the ground. 

“This doesn’t hurt?”

Jungeun shook her head. “Is it better?” Her hand came up to Jinsoul’s face. Her gaze softened even more. 

Jinsoul couldn’t look away. “Better.”

Jungeun tilted her head up, before kissing her forehead, her lips so gentle. 

It wasn’t anything new to want Jungeun’s touch, but it had been in the beginning. So much had been new. 

But now Jungeun knew about the bond. Now they both knew. 

And when Jinsoul finally told her everything, she’d know more. 

“What were you doing?” Jinsoul asked when Jungeun pulled away. 

“Reading.” Jungeun nodded to a book. “Vivi had gotten some from the witch for any day shifts.”

“Do you like it?” Jinsoul picked it up. “What was she doing with a French book?” 

Jungeun shrugged. “I thought it was going to be those made up stories, but it’s about one of their kings. Apparently a great man along with others named, but I’d never heard of a Tibirius.” Her brow furrowed. “Maybe we should know more about their rulers.”

Jinsoul smiled. “We should.” She put it back down, before settling into her side again. “Maybe we could go to the desert.”

She looked at her, surprise entering her eyes. “You want to go there again?” 

“Anywhere.” 

Jungeun’s lips parted. The surprise stayed. “Anywhere?” 

Jinsoul nodded once. She took her hand. She wanted to say more, but it wasn’t the time yet. She didn’t know when exactly that time was. She wondered if she herself was even ready. After all this time, to finally say everything, could she? 

“I,” Jungeun’s lips slowly formed a smile, “I think I’d want to go to the ocean first.”

It was Jinsoul’s turn to be surprised. “Really?”

Her smile grew. “Whenever you want. We’ll go. I want to.” She squeezed Jinsoul’s hand once. “Unless you want to go alone.” 

Jinsoul shook her head. “I already have.” 

Guilt flickered in her eyes. 

Jinsoul cupped her face. “Don’t,” she said. “It’s alright.” 

Jungeun shook her head. “Don’t forgive that so fast. Don’t excuse any of this like that.” 

“I’m not.” She ran her thumb over her cheek. “I could blame you for it and I had at first, but I know why it took time. I know why you needed time.” 

“I didn’t need time.” Jungeun’s brow had furrowed again. 

JInsoul wondered how often she'd have to tell her for it to sink in. For her to know it was alright. 

“Yes you did,” Jinsoul traced her fingers along the side of her face, “you still need some now. So do I.” 

The look in her eyes faltered, confusion flickering in. 

“Yes, it’s been a long time,” Jinsoul said. “And I don’t want it to be longer, but I can’t,” she let her hand stay at her chin, “I don’t think we can let it end immediately either.” 

Jungeun still looked confused. 

Jinsoul kissed her once. “I’ll tell you when I want to go to the ocean.” She touched her forehead to Jungeun’s. “I told you it was enough before, and it’s more than enough now.” 

She was searching her eyes. Jinsoul knew what she was looking for. 

“Is it enough for you?” 

Jungeun’s expression softened. She leaned forward slightly, her nose brushing against hers. “It is.” 

______

Their last dinner before getting back to camp began with most of the others huddled together while Yeojin and Yerim cooked. They hadn’t been forced into it. More that Yerim had threatened to put a few of them in the ground up to their waists while she made food.

Yeojin had followed that by sending Vivi away from the fire and, subtly, making her sit down beside Haseul. 

Yerim had already chopped up fruits that she passed over to the rest on wooden plates from the numerous branches surrounding their part of the forest. A clear method to placate the rest because most didn’t object with the silent threat of a fruit-filled wooden plate to the head. Even if Yerim would have done it gently. 

Yeojin watched as Sooyoung tried to convince Jinsoul that a fish spirit probably wouldn’t manage to be on land, while Jinsoul tried to remind her that spirits didn’t obey the laws of the world. Jiwoo pitched in at one point that bird spirits could fly and the other kind couldn’t, so how would a fish manage to be on land properly? 

“I could hold one in a ball of water,” Jinsoul argued. 

Beside her, Yeojin heard Yerim stifle a laugh. 

“That’s still not being on land,” Sooyoung retorted. 

“But,” Jinsoul started. Then she closed , visibly miffed. 

Chaewon reached over, patting her knee. “I know,” she said. “Must be hard not having a fish with you to rant to.” 

Jinsoul looked at her for a moment, before her face broke into a smile. 

Yeojin tuned the rest out and tasted the sauce she’d been working on. She started to add more into it. 

Yerim was still turning over the meat over the fire. She still looked tired, but it looked like her wounds had largely healed. She didn’t wince anymore at certain movements. 

Her smile was brighter than it had been in a long time and even now she smiled lightly as she kept listening to the others. Still, there was something still clinging to her. Yeojin didn’t know if it was from before or if it was something that had come after the fight. 

“I wish we could stay here.” Yerim’s voice was quiet, drowned out by laughter from the others. “I love having this again.” 

“Me too,” Yeojin said. “It’s been years.” She looked at the others again. “I hadn’t thought we’d ever have this again.” 

Yerim passed her the chopped meat and vegetables then. She dropped them into the sauce. 

“Had you wanted it back?” Yerim asked. Before Yeojin could respond, she kept speaking her voice even more hushed. “I thought I wouldn’t.” She smiled, but it was shaky. “But seeing it here. Now.”

“I can’t imagine not wanting it now. Even if I hadn’t once,” Yeojin admitted. “I think what hurt too was losing it. Didn’t really realise I’d missed it because I’d always focused on the rest.” 

She met her eyes once, nodding. “Me too.” 

“And a few other things for you,” Yeojin chuckled, “like the future.” 

“That too.” Yerim shrugged. “But I didn’t know what to do after that even with the sight. Even though we’d not been,” she glanced at the others, “we were still so separated from each other. No matter the side we’d taken.” 

Yeojin followed her gaze. Heejin and Jungeun were getting water to give to the others. Jinsoul still wasn’t able to control it properly. She watched as Jungeun said something with Heejin laughing. It had been a long time since she’d seen Heejin laugh like that. She realised then it had been a long time since she’d seen the two talk like that. 

The divisions hadn’t just been with Sooyoung and the others. 

“Sorry,” Yeojin said. “I don’t think I helped that.” 

Yerim just shook her head. “No one did. And even if someone tried, it wasn’t enough.” She looked back to her. “Make us some bowls?”

Yeojin did, making them from moonlight, before they started to fill them. She spread them across the rest, before grabbing one for herself and giving the other to Yerim.

She went to one of the free spaces. It was beside Jiwoo on the end. She realised as she walked that Yerim was with her. 

Jiwoo looked torn between surprised and elation as they neared. 

Yeojin squeezed her shoulder once, before sitting down. 

______

Hyejoo tried to keep her hands from shaking. She tried to keep the fear from her, but she knew it surrounded her. 

They’d been waiting for them a bit outside the camp. Not everyone, but all elders and some others with them. Including Priad, Kolina, and Torrin. Hyejoo had forced herself to hold their gazes, to see the fear and hate there. She 

Heejin was explaining what had happened. She’d told them that they’d known Haseul had been taken into captivity and that was why they’d all had to leave. She told them what had happened, Sooyoung filling in the gaps. 

Hyejoo watched for their reactions. She saw how they looked at her, at Hyunjin, as well as Yerim. She also saw their eyes linger on Chaewon. 

There was fear, but not as much among all of them together. There were still those who were more afraid, while others felt that hate they always did for the darkness. 

But there were others who had little of that. There was Freya who listened, no fear in her, but more relief. And shame. 

Hyejoo tried to focus on that. Maybe she’d even defend them this time. She had before too, hadn’t she? 

“Then why did you fight?” Yuol asked. “Why did you attack them?” 

In that moment, Hyejoo felt a flicker of anger come from Yerim. 

“They thought we were defecting,” Hyunjin said. “We tried to tell them we weren’t, but our paths looked different to what you thought they were.” 

“But I saw—” Kolina started. 

“You saw what you wanted to see,” Jiwoo said then. Her eyes were cold. “Because I saw the same thing. I saw where they were going.” 

Kolina glared at her, but the anger there was already fading. 

“We’d needed to leave immediately,” Hyunjin added. “We’d already been too late to follow. We couldn’t have wasted any more time.” 

Freya nodded once. 

“There are members of the fae coming,” Lyriil said. 

Hyejoo saw how Jinsoul tensed. How Haseul froze. She could feel the fear between the others. 

“They sent word after you had. That the fairies who had turned were being put to trial, that they wanted to see the events from your side.” Lyriil looked between them. His gaze was unreadable. “And I would also like to know the circumstances of why each of you left. What happened exactly.” 

“We told you,” Heejin said sharply. “And you want to search our minds?” 

“We have no idea what happened. What led to all that we see now among you,” Yuol said. “We only need to see the memories of one.”

“Dahyun will be there as well,” Freya said, her eyes reassuring. “If you need her help, she’s there.” 

Hyejoo nearly faltered then. Of course Darie would try to come as well. Not only with her plea to let the fae live, but to come after that.

“That’ll be all.” Nuala’s voice was sharp. “They’re exhausted.” 

For a moment, Hyejoo wondered if now was the time they would look to her and tell her she couldn’t set foot into the camp. 

Instead some just started to walk back, while Freya nodded once to them. 

Even as the rest of them started to walk, there was no protest. Not even from the others. 

Freya, Eline, and Nuala fell into step with them. 

“The discussions of what would happen now,” Freya began, “most were had before you arrived.” 

Hyejoo saw Heejin frown at that. “And what if you’d decided not to let us back?” 

“That wouldn’t have happened.”

“Did you put it to a vote?” Hyejoo asked. 

They looked at her. She was almost relieved to see the bursts of shame at that. 

“No,” she said. “It wouldn’t have come to that either.” 

Hyejoo looked away. She looked to the light instead that radiated from the camp. Looking at it, coming closer to it, it didn’t burn. 

She wondered if Chaewon was feeling that burn she had before. 

Chaewon walked with Sooyoung. She didn’t look strained. She caught Hyejoo’s eye then, before shaking her head. 

Hyejoo felt the knot in her stomach ease. She hadn’t been in pain being around them with the light, but it would’ve been different surrounded by it at camp. 

But she was alright. 

“His body returned here” Nuala said quietly. 

Hyejoo felt cold. Zelena and the others had done the rites for him. He’d been sent home. Properly. 

“Did you send it here?” 

“No,” Jungeun said. “The followers who had lived carried out the rites.” 

Hyejoo found her voice again. “What did you do to the body?” 

“We burned him,” Freya replied. 

It was then that Hyejoo felt her grief. 

“Did you tell them he returned?” Hyejoo asked. “Or did you try to hide that again?”

“They know,” Nuala said. She too held some of that grief. “There was no use in keeping more of a secret.” 

“And what came before that?” Haseul had been in front of them, but now she looked back. “Did you know the spirits were his work? The ones that were stronger? Maybe even the brighter ones that would attack?” 

“We thought they might be,” Eline said. “But knowing the source of those spirits wouldn’t have helped. The number of spirits like that did not lessen with his death.” 

They kept walking. Hyejoo wondered. Only they could turn the bright spirits back. Would being sent after them turn into their main duty? 

Would that be so bad? 

She thought of the pain Hyunjin had been through. She thought of Yerim telling her about the spirit that had chased her. Of the sickness that those spirits could spread through them, a light they couldn’t fight. Even worse than the darkness. 

“We know you killed him.” Nuala was looking Hyejoo’s way. “I’m sorry you had to.” 

Hyejoo bristled at the implication. “I wasn’t—”

“He took you in when we’d turned you away,” Nuala shook her head, “I know you wouldn’t have turned against us.” Something in her expression gave way to that guilt Hyejoo had felt from her. “But that doesn’t mean it hadn’t been difficult.”

“Why do you grieve him after all this time?” Hyunjin asked then. “After years of hiding his memory?”

“It was our fault,” Freya said. “His death was for what we did. Had we been better,” she looked away, “had we done what you had. Tried to defend him, to see past more than just our fears.” 

“None of this would’ve happened,” Hyejoo finished. “But he wanted you dead.” It hadn’t been difficult to feel the hate in Alluin, or even to hear it when he spoke. 

They were quiet at that. 

Hyejoo didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to hang that in front of them. They might have not redeemed themselves for what had happened, but she was tired. 

They reached the camp then. She knew that the people there were trying not to stare, but there were others who still did. 

And then she saw others break from the crowd. She saw Hyojung, Sua, Yoohyeon, and more. They were smiling. The relief in their faces was so clear. 

Hyejoo then saw that someone was in front of her. Shuhua. 

“You look terrible.” She grimaced, looking at her. Then she lifted her arms, looking hesitant. 

Hyejoo just hugged her. 

______

It hadn’t been as bad as she’d expected to be back in the camp. It’d been made better by them putting their tents back in the same place as they’d been before. 

While Yerim had known things would be different now, she’d still felt so relieved when she’d returned to their tents to see Sooyoung and the others already at the fire. 

Yes, there were moments where she could sense the discomfort of the others and see it too, but they didn’t all turn away from them either. 

There were patrols, but there’d been a silent agreement that they were exempt from that. 

Even then, Yerim still went. Jinsoul and Jungeun had both tried to convince her otherwise, even Nuala, encouraging her to rest from the fighting. 

But she’d needed to get away from the camp. While the light didn’t hurt her and she felt safe there, a part of her yearned to move. To find the spirits still there, the bright spirits she needed to turn. 

She needed to do something useful. 

And to get somewhere the paths wouldn’t be as overwhelming. 

The sight was like it had been in the beginning. Her mind was too sensitive to what she saw. With the darkness now too, she could feel more as well. 

She needed to get away. 

She’d already taken care of one bright spirit. This had been in the shape of a horse, its skin going from the bright blue down to a darker shade. Its eyes had been yellow, before they’d turned silver. 

The light had stung, but she’d been able to drown it from her hand with the darkness. 

She looked at the shadows now, drawing them into her hands, letting it form a shape before dissolving it. It felt different to the light, but not in any particular way. It just felt different like the light had to the earth. It moved differently too, more like smoke than anything. 

She could feel the light still. She wondered if she’d be able to control it again like Hyunjin could. She didn’t feel the need to control it, but a part of her did miss that sense of warmth. 

“Where’re you going?” a voice asked. It had more energy than Yerim had heard in a while. 

She looked back only to see Yeojin walking over to her. She hadn’t realised she was there. 

“I don’t know,” Yerim replied. “Where ever this takes me.” She waved at the ground. 

“Do you do that a lot?” Yeojin slowed once she reached her side. “Looking at where you’re supposed to go?” 

“Sort of.” Yerim looked. Yeojin’s path would be with hers for some time. She smiled at the thought. “It’s sometimes calming to know where I’m supposed to step. Or not.” She turned them away from the path they were on. She watched it form again. 

“Do you think the it’s ever surprised?” Yeojin asked. “The moon.” 

“There’s a path for everything,” Yerim said. “I step to the right the path moves right. I move back, it goes with me.” 

“Do you think that’s a good thing?” 

She looked back at her. Yeojin was looking up at the moon. “What’s a good thing?” 

“That there’s always another way, that it’s accounted for all of it.” She frowned slightly. “Doesn’t that mean no matter what, we’re just always doing what it wants one way or another?” 

“Does it want anything?” Yerim asked. 

Yeojin looked back at her. She seemed tired, more worn from the time. There was sometimes an edge to her eyes that seemed haunted, but it didn’t seem as much as some. Yerim was relieved that was the case. 

“I don’t know,” Yeojin finally said. “I don’t know what’s better. If it’s changing its plan or it’s just set in the magic of time that there’s always a way forward. Somehow.”

“And always a way to the side,” Yerim added. 

They walked on some more. Yerim wasn’t sure what else to say. She didn’t know if Yeojin’s words were coming from a place of doubt or if they were from something else. 

“What do you think?” Yeojin broke the silence. “Do you think the main path is the one it wants and the rest is it trying to get that still?” 

“I don’t think it wants anything,” Yerim said. “Sometimes I did, but it made me start to hate it.” She shrugged. “And you can’t hate it completely if you think it isn’t controlling anything.” 

She nodded once, not looking her way. “You can try.” 

Yerim laughed. “I have.” 

The surprise appeared, before it dissipated. Yerim wondered if her behaviour was still unexpected for her, or if it made more sense. She wondered what Yeojin expected now from her.

“How’re you feeling?” Yeojin asked. “Better?" 

“I am,” Yerim replied. "Still dream about it. Not as bad as some and some days I don’t even dream so badly. I can hold a blade too, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to use it for some time.” She felt for the trees. “Everything else works, more or less. The dark too, and even the light doesn’t feel like it used to before. It doesn’t burn to look at it.” 

“Do you think you’ll be able to use it again?” Yeojin asked. “Like Hyunjin?” 

Yerim shrugged again. “I don’t know,” she said. “My path isn’t fully like Chaewon’s, but it’s not yet like theirs either.” 

“And that’s alright,” Yeojin said, her voice a bit firmer. “You don’t need to be able to control the light.” 

Yerim smiled. “I know.” She reached over, squeezing her arm. “But thank you for saying it.” 

The corners of her lips tugged up in response. 

“You?” Yerim pulled her closer to her side, before letting go. Not too much, but more than before. 

“Same as you. Sort of.” Yeojin took in a longer breath, before letting it out again. “It’s not sunk in for me completely and I don’t know if that’s bad.” 

“Have you talked about it?” Yerim asked. “With the others?” They'd spoken about Haseul, but not about the fight. Yerim wondered if she should've pressed her a bit more. 

“With Vivi,” she said. “She’s been through so much then we know. She knows so much more,” her gaze grew more distant, “and she’s told me it’s normal to also not be that.” Her jaw clenched then. 

“And what haven’t you told her?” 

She met her eyes again. The orange was as bright as it ever was. “What’s stuck with me more. What’s stronger in my head is,” she frowned, “it's still what came before. Not the fight.” 

Yerim tried to think. What happened to Chaewon was something she could barely forget. She’d needed to force down the memory of her whenever she saw Chaewon, but it was hard not to think of her lifeless eyes. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for the others. 

And then there was Haseul. Finding her alone, finding her broken. 

Yerim blinked away the memory of Haseul’s tears. She thought of how they’d found them in the forest. The reunion had been so brief, but the relief in both had been so immense. 

“Nothing I do is enough," Yeojin said. "I don’t know how to help her and I know Vivi doesn’t either. She wants to, I can see it, but we don’t know what to do for her. And being there it’s,” she closed her eyes, “she doesn’t want us there. She didn’t want us knowing how much it hurt, but she couldn’t avoid that. She just—” She stopped. 

Yerim carefully went closer and hugged her. 

Yeojin’s arms came around her middle. She didn’t cry. 

“She doesn’t want people to know what’s happening. She doesn’t want them to think she’s weak. I don’t know—no one sees her as weak.” She sank into her. “But I don’t know how to tell her that.” 

“You can’t,” Yerim said. “Not really. Not if she doesn’t believe it.” She thought of Jungeun. How she didn’t sleep. How she focused on Jinsoul, on Chaewon, and Yerim too. She told them the anger didn’t hurt, but Yerim had no way of knowing if she was telling the truth or not. Not really. “And for her, telling her that won’t make her believe it. I don’t think it ever has.” She understood a fraction of that. The encouragements started to feel like empty words. The promises that it would get better sounded like simple hopes. People tried to help, but it wouldn’t reach the person in question. 

“But it’s not fair. Not when she tries to tell me I’m strong.” 

“They’re not fair,” Yerim patted her back, “with so many other things they are, but not here.” She pulled her closer. “And it’s frustrating. It’s so frustrating, but you can’t do anything more than be there with them. If they want to go—if Haseul needs her space, you give her that. It’s hard to tell, I know, but sometimes they’ll need us there. Sometimes they’ll need us somewhere else.” 

“I know,” Yeojin said, her voice muffled. “Haseul’s always been like that. I know the signs usually, but,” she pulled away, her eyes still glassy, “it’s worse now. When it feels like she’d need us more, she talks even less about all of it.” She wiped at her face. “I just wish I could help her. Somehow.”

“I told you,” Yerim patted her arm, before she also pulled away, “you're helping her.” She started walking, Yeojin still in view. 

She walked with her. 

Quiet again. Slightly uncomfortable, but there was still some sort of ease there. 

“How do you do it with Jungeun?” Yeojin asked. “Waiting to see what to do? Telling her what she needs to hear?”

“Staying by her side,” Yerim said. “I’m not as good with words with her, so I try and do everything else.” She tried for a smile. “And it usually works.” 

Until Jungeun needed space. Proper space. Then she’d leave. 

Yerim hadn’t seen her path leaving the camp like that yet, but she still worried. She hoped Jungeun would stay longer. 

Yeojin nodded then. “Thank you, Yerim,” she said slowly. “I know it’s not easy here right now. It wasn’t easy before either.” 

Yerim smiled. “No,” she shrugged, “but it’s not been that bad either.” 

“You mean that?” 

“I do,” she said. “We’re trying to keep that time where it’s all of us together.” Those were the highlights of the nights for her. She looked forward to each meal they could have together. “That makes the rest worth it.” 

Yeojin’s brow furrowed. “And if it hadn’t been?” 

Yerim tried to read the look that was being sent at her now. She almost thought Yeojin would get angry, but no. This was more a look of concern. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I didn’t let myself think that far.”

“Do you think you would’ve left?” 

The thought made her pause. Before the fight, she’d contemplated it, but there’d always been things that pushed the thoughts away. Not just the people who wouldn’t want her to go, but also the people she’d never want to leave. 

“I thought about it,” Yerim said. “But no. I couldn’t have left.” 

She saw Yeojin relax. 

“Good.” She smiled fully then. 

A few seconds of silence passed then. 

“I wouldn’t have wanted you to go,” Yeojin said quietly.

Yerim looked over. 

Yeojin was looking back. “I mean that.”

Yerim smiled again. “I know.” 

They kept walking. Yerim didn’t have to think much of the shadows, nor the light. 

She and Yeojin had to fight off one other spirit, but it was fast. The rest of the way was spent in either silence or talking. 

Yerim liked it. It was peaceful. 

______

Chaewon’s path stretched away in the distance. Not immediately, but it would come. She wasn’t coming back. Not in the near future at least. It had gotten stronger now. She couldn't even believe that it would vanish now.

Jiwoo tried not to think of what that meant. She tried to force down the worry she felt at that. She tried not to think of the moment she’d felt her path disappear completely. About Chaewon in the forest. Her lifeless body. The blood everywhere. Her eyes. 

She closed her eyes. The path could still change. 

But what if she wanted to go? Truly wanted to? What if the path shouldn’t change? 

“Jiwoo?” The voice pulled her from her thoughts. 

She turned around, nearly regretting it. 

Sooyoung was still washing up. Jiwoo had been faster, waiting on the side of the river bank. 

It wasn’t as if she’d never seen her , but sometimes she was barely phased, other times her face would warm incredibly. 

“Are you okay?” Sooyoung asked, her brow furrowing. “You were,” she trailed off. 

Jiwoo looked back to the paths she’d been watching. Most were in the camp. Hyejoo was with Hyunjin, probably training. They’d reach Chaewon soon too, maybe also to help her along with Yerim once she got back. Jungeun and Jinsoul would be staying in camp along with Heejin and Haseul. Vivi was going to be on patrol. She’d been doing that a lot. 

For a second, she wondered if she’d not tell Sooyoung what she’d seen. What if it was better if she didn’t know?

But as she focused on Chaewon’s path as it continued away, she knew the answer to that.

“Chaewon,” Jiwoo started. “I don’t think she’ll stay here.” 

Sooyoung paused. She looked at her, then at the ground, before looking at the water again. 

“Not immediately,” she continued. “There’s time.” A glimpse of it, but it was still time. 

“You can see that?” Sooyoung lifted another few pails of water over her head, letting it wash away the rest of the soap. “The time?” 

“Sort of,” Jiwoo said. “I’d know how much of the moon would wane before that.” 

Sooyoung walked over, slowly rising further out of it. 

Jiwoo looked at the trees behind her, but tossed a towel her way. 

“You weren’t like this when you got out of the water.” 

Jiwoo just shrugged. 

A few moments later, Sooyoung was sitting beside her in the grass. Then she was holding a smaller cloth to Jiwoo’s head, ruffling her hair. 

“You never dry it properly,” she muttered. “You’ll get too cold.” 

Jiwoo closed her eyes. “We don’t get colds.” 

“Sometimes we do.” Sooyoung’s fingers were more massaging her head now. “But you’d get Jungeun to dry your hair, right?” 

“Sometimes.” It had been almost normal before, but after Hyejoo’s banishment, even the patrols and other missions they had done together, it had been strained. But then it had rained, Jungeun had dried both their hair and clothes after. She’d offered after that to do it after she’d washed up. “She’s the one who gets colds though.”

“I’ve gotten a cold a few times,” Sooyoung countered. 

“Because Jungeun didn’t dry your hair? Jinsoul didn’t take out the water?” 

“And because I stayed out too long in the snow too a few times.” 

Jiwoo smiled. “You would’ve had to stay out very long.” 

“I did.” A pause. “It was a long trip.” 

Jiwoo opened her eyes, looking at her. She was smiling. 

“You said we had time,” Sooyoung said then, the smile fading slightly. She put the towel over her shoulders and her hair over it. 

Jiwoo nodded. “The time could change. She could go in days, or weeks.” 

“But she’s going?” Her gaze fell. “I didn’t think she’d go so soon.” 

“You knew?” 

“I thought she would.” Sooyoung was still watching the river. “I almost thought she would before, but I knew she wouldn’t then.” Something in her gave out. 

“But now it’s different,” Jiwoo said. “Now things are better.” 

“And it’s not for her,” Sooyoung sighed, “the better things did get, the more—” She broke off. 

“The more she doesn’t know what to do,” she nodded, “I know.” 

“I thought she’d get used to it. I’m still not used to it, but it doesn’t,” she closed , before opening it again, “she looks trapped sometimes. Not—it’s not like—it’s not the darkness. She’s feeling better since it came, but just everything else. Sometimes it feels like we—I’m too much now too?” 

Jiwoo reached over and took her hand. It was still cool from the water. She squeezed it. 

Sooyoung’s eyes met hers. The desperation of her voice had filled them. “I don’t want her to go.” The words were small. Quiet. 

“Me neither,” Jiwoo said. She moved closer, putting an arm around her. 

“I wish she’d talk to us.”

“I don’t think she’s decided yet,” Jiwoo replied. She would, but not yet.

“But she’s been thinking about it,” Sooyoung said. “She’ll go. Without us.” She leaned into her side, her head coming to rest on her shoulder. 

“We could try to go with her? Ask her?”

“I think she’ll want to be away from the Astra, from all of this,” she shook her head, “truly.” 

Jiwoo wanted to deny that. She wanted to think Chaewon would stay with them, take them with her, but it wouldn’t work. That wasn’t what Chaewon would want. 

“She wouldn’t have left before,” Sooyoung whispered, “because she was staying for us too. If we hadn’t been here, or if we’d not been on her side, I think she would’ve gone years ago. I kept being afraid she would. That we’d wake up and she’d be gone.”

Jiwoo just nodded.

“Should we talk to her or wait?” Sooyoung asked. “What if we make her guilty by bringing it up? What if she leaves sooner? What if she’s gone for longer?”

“We don’t know if that would happen,” Jiwoo told her. “But we should wait. She wouldn’t leave without telling us. Not now.” 

“Okay.” 

They were quiet then. Each time she looked to the paths, she could see the brightness of the bond too. With Sooyoung so close, it was so much brighter. The ache she felt wasn’t painful, but it felt as if it had spread out. 

She found comfort in it now like she had in the past days. There was a part of her that could barely believe she could. That Sooyoung knew of it too. That she wanted the bond. 

It was strange to know that now. It was strange to even talk about the sight so freely with Sooyoung. She still caught herself about to say a lie or felt the urge to hide something, but she pushed against it. It wasn’t hard, it just made her feel guilty knowing lying was still a habit. 

“You would have left too,” Sooyoung said then. “If we hadn’t been there.” 

“You wouldn’t have?” 

“Would’ve been away more,” Sooyoung said. “But I wouldn’t have left. There’s not much out there for me.”

“And you think there was for me?” Jiwoo asked. She didn’t ask if it was for Chaewon. Solace was out there and a solitude Chaewon was seeking that they could never give her. 

“You can build a place for yourself better than I can,” she muttered. “Even if you don’t feel like you’d belong, or should be there, you can seem like it’s easy. Like with Jungeun, with Yerim maybe too.” 

“You seem like that too.” Jiwoo prodded her shoulder. 

“I don’t go to the right places.”

Jiwoo couldn’t help but frown. “What’s that mean?”

“I didn’t go to those places to belong. You know that.” 

From where she sat, Jiwoo could see something close to shame in Sooyoung’s eyes. 

It clicked then. 

“That doesn’t matter to me,” Jiwoo said. “It did sometimes before, but not in the way you think.” 

Sooyoung’s head lifted. “In what way?” 

Jiwoo nearly looked away, but she held her gaze. “You know I wanted you to go there. To be in those places.” 

“Yeah,” she said. “But you—” She grimaced. “Did you really want that?” Then she closed her eyes. “No, that sounds wrong.” 

Jiwoo laughed slightly. “Was I jealous, you mean?” She watched how Sooyoung’s eyes slowly opened, the small bit of anticipation she felt through the bond, as well as some nervousness still. “Of course, but I told you why, I told you—”

“You did,” Sooyoung took her other hand, “you don’t have to again, I just—” Her eyes softened. “There’s so much I still want to know—I mean, about the last years, the things I didn’t know, about the sight, you,” she broke off. Her eyes shined more than usual. “But this isn’t for you to explain yourself to me. You already did that. I just want,” a small huff of a laugh, “I just want you in my life. I want to still be a part of your life. A better one than I was before.” 

Jiwoo had to look away. The ache in her chest was getting stronger again. It was brighter now too. “Not sure if you can get much better.” 

“Just wait.” Sooyoung squeezed her hands.

There were the sounds of distant animals and their footsteps, the river, and the wind rustling through the trees. Sooyoung’s hands were warm now in hers. 

“You meant that, right?” Sooyoung was still looking at her. “What you felt—feel, you still feel that?” 

“It hasn’t been that long since I said that,” Jiwoo replied, feeling the corners of her lips tug up. 

“It’s felt like it,” Sooyoung said, this time looking away. “And so much has changed since then, I—” she pursed her lips, before shaking her head. 

“What?” Jiwoo brushed her thumb over her hand. 

“It’s stupid.” 

“We can both handle that.”

She snorted once, before sighing. “I didn’t really think it would happen, but I was scared—at first—that you’d,” she lifted her head again, “you’d felt like that more because we weren’t with the rest. That because we were alone—alone together—that you’d not—” Sooyoung let out a short laugh. “It was stupid.” 

“A little,” Jiwoo nodded, “but I’d be lying if I wouldn’t have thought the same.” 

“Did you?” 

She shook her head. “Not this time.” She let go of one of her hands just to brush a bit of her from Sooyoung’s forehead. “Because I loved you when we weren’t alone and I was thinking—hoping you would too now.” 

Sooyoung’s eyes had widened. 

Jiwoo realised why. 

“You love me?” Sooyoung repeated, her voice hushed. 

Jiwoo decided against remarking that that should’ve been clear. She instead nodded. Her entire body felt warm. The ache was stronger too, still not painful. 

“Tell me? Again?” The look in her eyes, almost brighter now, was something Jiwoo could only describe as beautiful. 

“I love you,” Jiwoo said. 

A smile appeared, growing with each second. Sooyoung’s free hand was on her face then. 

Sooyoung echoed it. Before the last word reached her ears, Jiwoo found herself gently being pulled forward, while Sooyoung leaned in. 

Jiwoo hadn’t let herself think much of how it would feel to kiss Sooyoung. She didn’t know what to think now either. She was overwhelmed by both the feeling and the warmth it brought her. 

Sooyoung’s lips were soft. Her touch was gentle. 

“I love you too,” Sooyoung whispered when she broke away. “I love you.” She was smiling somehow even brighter than before. Then she looked down, her eyes widening again. “Is that,” she began. 

Jiwoo looked as well. The bond glowed so brightly, white mixed with the colours of their eyes that flickered in and out. “That’s it.” 

Sooyoung’s hand drifted in the air, like she was trying to touch it. 

“So I can see it now too?” Sooyoung’s eyes were filling with tears. 

Jiwoo could feel an elation that almost felt like her own. It was close to overwhelming her completely. She pulled Sooyoung into her arms then, burying her face in her neck. 

“Yes,” Jiwoo murmured. “You can see it.” Her own eyes blurred with tears. 

Sooyoung’s arms tightened around her. 

“I can.” The sheer emotion in her voice made Jiwoo’s heart warm even more. She hadn’t thought that was possible. 

When Sooyoung pulled away, Jiwoo stayed close to her side. The bond felt different now. Not strange, but new. That ache seemed to have changed into a pressure. Almost there, but not. 

And she could feel Sooyoung's elation still. Her own had joined it. 

But she could also feel lingering doubt. Fear too. 

Jiwoo wondered if there was a way to try and keep that feeling there. To let the moment last longer. 

But it wasn't just going to be a moment. She'd known she loved Sooyoung years before. There would be so many days, so many years where she would love her. Where she would know that Sooyoung loved her too. 

One moment falling to the past, a set of hours changing, couldn't change that. 

Jiwoo just took her hand again. 

"Do you think their bond could be like this?" Sooyoung asked. 

"It's mended," Jiwoo said. "But with what happened. What might happen," she sighed, "I don't know. I don't know if they want it back." 

"I think Hyejoo does. More than Chaewon." She shook her head. "But I don't know if she really does. I don't know what would happen. If trying would even make them happier or all of it worse." 

Jiwoo's heart sank more then. "Do you think that's why she wants to go?" 

"I think she's leaving for a lot of reasons," Sooyoung said quietly. "I don't think we'll know all of them, but we'll be here." She squeezed her hand. "And hope that's enough." 

"And if it isn't?" 

Sooyoung looked at her fully then. She gave her a small, shaky smile. "Then we hope it'll be enough later." 

______

Author's Note 

Hello again! Sorry again for the later update, but life has been very busy. 

I think I say this so often, but these chapters have been getting harder to write. Not necessarily for the plot, but the character moments. This fic is my absolute darling and I love these charaacters so much. I think sometimes I get slightly drained when I write some of these chapters, but in a good way! 

It's been a little while I know, but if you're reading this, I just want to thank you so much for keeping up with this story. We will see how many chapters will come, because this aftermath section is something I don't want to rush but also don't want to draw out too much. 

Thank you for reading! Do let me know your thoughts. 

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

Twitter: @hblake44

CC for any of your questions!