Olivia pulled away from the shadows. Being surrounded by them hadn’t always been so comfortable. The cold had once terrified her. After the fear had faded, she’d been disgusted by it. The shadows latched onto her as rain did, never leaving no matter how fast she moved or tried to veer away from the darker curls on the ground. 

Now it felt like pulling away from an embrace. She knew she was stronger in the shadows than out of them. She could see the darkness around, even when it was day. If she looked at the world normally, she wouldn’t be able to tell her feet from the ground, but the moment she looked deeper into the world, she saw what the darkness coated. 

At first it hadn’t been useful, only dizzying. But after using her abilities for other ends, ones where she needed to remain undiscovered, that enhanced vision became invaluable. 

“There you are.” Zelena smiled at her. “Go smoothly?” She was half-fae and elf. She had deep blue eyes, more like an early evening sky. Her magic was tied to weather. What exactly that meant, Olivia still didn't know. 

Olivia shrugged. “A few spirits came along.” 

She sighed. “Damn.” She put a hand on her shoulder. “Alluin’s already got something for you. I’ll put a plate aside for you.”

“Thank you.” It wasn’t unusual to have two or three things to do in succession. The hopeful (or desperate) would come to them, asking for their help, the requests ranging from theft to dealing with some sort of, for them, supernatural threat. 

“And Olivia,” Zelena squeezed her shoulder, “the fae will hear of it. They’ll send the mentals their way. They always do.”

She nodded. Not all of the fairies were able to manipulate the mind, but some could. It was a terrifying threat to have on their side. They were only lucky that the mental fae usually stayed out of conflicts. And that there was the chance to protect your mind. 

There were some elves with a similar magic, but they were rare. As uncommon as non-Astran lunar elves were. So there were enough. 

And most people with that magic took on the duty of going to mortals who'd seen what they shouldn't have. Though they didn’t live long, the lives of humans could be ruined if they were faced by what they called ‘supernatural’. Other humans didn’t believe them, but if they did, there was a risk of panic. The rumours were rarely erased from people’s minds. Over the years, it had led to myths and tales being spun, some awfully similar to the truth. 

Olivia went through the haphazardly strewn about tents. Unlike others, their camp did move around. Frequently. At first, Olivia hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near them. The darkness surrounding most had scared her, the abilities of others had terrified her. They still did, but there was some mutual understanding that stopped them from turning on each other. Olivia still didn't really understand it. She hadn't cared enough to learn more either. 

It wasn’t a group where she was bound. In the beginning, she’d only ever got word through a brief message, either scribed through shadow or the earth. When she wanted to spend less time stealing and more elsewhere, it was fine until Alluin wanted to give her a specific job. 

Olivia reached the place in question. Its walls were of white linen. Freshly cleaned. Or bought. Alluin enjoyed luxury. 

She drew back the flap and peeked in. 

Alluin and Shaerra lounged on a set of deep blue cushions. They were of a soft, yet glossy material. Was it silk or velvet? Both were uncomfortable. 

“Olivia,” Alluin smiled, getting to his feet, “had something made you angry in the house?”

He knew already. Such news reached him quickly. The ease with which he handled what he did was almost unsettling. 

“No,” she said. “They always approach me when I’m alone. Especially on a night with little light.” 

He nodded. “You did well.” His eyes were black, like Olivia’s, but where hers looked like pitch, his were like ink. He was an Astran like her, one who’d gotten darkness instead of light. And she’d never heard of him before he’d found her. Would she be a secret among them as well? Would there be people who, in a hundred years or more, didn't know she'd existed? 

Olivia took out the payment from her bag. It was heavy, full of more gold than silver. Clearly, it had been one of the more important jobs. It’d been something political and territorial, but she cared little for mortal politics. It would all be over in a few years anyway. All she got from it was a part of their fortune. 

“Keep it.” His smile softened. “What I have for you next won’t be easy.”

She wondered what he considered ‘not easy’. The last job he’d thought wasn’t easy had included Olivia nearly getting burned alive by a witch coven. And that hadn’t even been expected. 

She put the money deep into her knapsack. It was a worn leather thing from a mortal market that she'd actually bought. It’d survived for four years now. She’d needed to sew on some new patches, but it was large enough to fit what she needed. Mostly. And it didn’t shine as some mortal leather did. 

“What is it?” Olivia asked. 

Shaerra had stood as well. She was taller than her by a head. A sea elf, but she could control blood. Olivia had been terrified of her at the start, caught in memories she'd tried to drown out for much of her life. She'd had to remind herself that Shaerra had never had anything to do with her life, but she'd still always felt uncomfortable around her. She wondered if that was how it felt to be around darkness. 

“The target is a person,” Alluin said slowly. As the words began to unravel in her mind, his eyes softened. “You’re to kill them.” 

“No,” Olivia said. They would not make a murderer out of her. She'd already heard the accounts of cold rooms with even colder corpses. Some of the people in this camp spoke of them too. Some even boasted about their efforts, having killed those people with a weapon Alluin had gifted them. She wasn't going to add to those 

“It’s not as if you’ve never done such a thing before,” Alluin said. The words were harsh, but he said them gently. All treated him like the humans did kings or princes. With a handsome face and all shadows bending to his will, it made sense. 

His magic drew people in as well, letting people be very aware of the power he held. She could’ve done the same, but his influence on the shadows was greater than hers. 

Olivia's own respect came from somewhere else. He was like her. He’d taught her much of what she knew. What she’d needed for a tolerable life—some form of company (despite never feeling fully at ease with the rest), a fairly safe haven, and money—he was the reason she had it. 

She respected him, yes, but there was no denying where that money came from. He’d lived far longer than she had. The cooperation with mortals had perhaps been in place since she’d been a child. That included thievery, violence, and murder. Even if she’d willingly done two of those things, something deep in Olivia recoiled at the third. 

“Just because I’ve done it before doesn’t mean I want to do it again.” Olivia didn’t want to think about it. She’d killed someone, yes, but in self-defence. Not because of a contract. 

“You think you’re just here to steal trinkets and paper?” Shaerra sneered. 

Olivia wanted to say she’d come here for money. She’d come here to learn. And a small part of her had hoped to find a place again. She'd learned and she'd gotten her money. And she'd learned to live with the fact that where she was now would never become a home. It was a reality she’d accepted after being sent on the first job. It had been one where she hadn’t known what awaited her. She hadn’t expected to encounter armed resistance. She'd needed to fight her way out of it, causing some to scream in terror at the sight of her. And they'd congratulated her. 

“You can send me to steal and spy,” Olivia said. “But I won’t kill.”

“We only ever go after those who deserve it,” Alluin said, his eyes kind.

Deserve. There were mortals who deserved death? In lives that were already short? Olivia knew there were exceptions. She knew there might have been those who certainly deserved death. 

“It’s not easy to take a life,” he continued, “and it’s good that it isn’t easy, or else things would fall to pieces.” A small smile appeared, before his expression grew serious again. “There are mortals out there who’ve been wronged, their lives either ruined or ended. Those who are the cause are allowed to live freely, either due to their wealth or simply evading justice.”

It was what she’d been told before. That had been to justify thievery. She'd accepted that easily enough. 

“We take the burden,” Shaerra said. “From those whose short lives wouldn’t allow them to forget.”

Olivia frowned at that. “So we're able to forget?” She wasn’t that naive. She knew of the rumours. She knew of the terror some felt regarding the stories. They spoke of cold rooms with shaky voices, even if they hadn’t ever been near one. And whoever Shaerra had killed—Olivia didn't want to think about how she'd done it. 

“Slowly.” Her expression softened. “The mortals say that time heals one’s wounds. They don’t live long enough for most of them to heal. We do.”

“Not all wounds heal,” Alluin gave Shaerra a sharp look, “I know, but we’re able to distance ourselves more than they can. And the people you’re sent to are those who’ve wronged others, sometimes more than even we were.” His eyes flicked to the floor, looking almost sad. “Were it not for the rest of what those mortals can do, I would’ve lost my faith in the humans long before.” He looked at her then. His eyes were black like Olivia’s were. They had more light to them than hers did. Somehow. “It’s worse than what was done to you. The stripping of people’s freedom to act, freedom to think, even just to live.” 

Olivia fought the urge to look away. “Murder takes the freedom to live as well.”

“Have you ever heard of the mortal saying,” Alluin began, “an eye for an eye?”

She shook her head. 

“So many mortals never have the capability to take that eye, to take their revenge. They live their lives knowing they were too weak to bring some sort of justice into the world.” He sighed. Then he took a step forward, almost beckoning her to come closer as well. 

Olivia didn’t. She didn’t step away either. Alluin was like her, but far more powerful. But he respected power. So she couldn’t show she was afraid. In the beginning, that had been one of the view things she'd needed to do. In addition to doing the jobs they wanted her to do. 

“I’ve given them that justice, as has Shaerra. The others have all overcome this first step. Just as you will as well.” Alluin put a cool hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It’s difficult, and that’s how it’s supposed to be. But there’s no one else who can do this. Not really.”

The three of them fell silent. Olivia only heard the distant chatter of the rest. Some had returned from jobs as she had. A few from infiltration jobs or from a theft. Others returned from assassination contracts. To give out justice. Blindly. To give the mortals who'd been wronged peace of mind. 

“It’ll be in Korea,” Alluin held out a roll of paper, “Hear what she has to say first. Her reasons and the person in question may be surprising.” He met her eyes. “And this is a case where it should be known you did it.”

Either witnesses or other clear signs of the work done. Did he expect her to coat the room in shadows? Colour one of their limbs black? Bathe their eyes in darkness? 

Just the thought made her shudder. Mortals. These were people she didn’t know. People who wouldn’t have meant much harm on her otherwise. Even if they intended to, they would never succeed. She wasn’t mortal. It had been unfair since the moment they were born. Their lives were fleeting and hopelessly short. They either filled it with pursuits of happiness, glory, or wealth, or so it often seemed. Some were cruel, others possessed golden hearts. And they were all mortal. 

“Once you hear her story,” Shaerra’s eyes had turned incredibly kind, “you might not even feel the doubt you do now.” 

Did they already know what had happened to the mortal? Or was there some sort of link in the darkness? Like the ones of light that seers like Eline could read. Was Olivia supposed to have threads in the past that bound her to this woman? Two wrongs that were made with the same effect? One of those being a wrong she could right?

Olivia took the paper. It felt far heavier than it looked. “I’ll go.” 

_____

The pain was sudden, piercing. It went deep into her chest, spreading from her heart to her lungs. 

Gowon hissed, dropping her plate. It tumbled to the ground, half of its contents rolling through the dirt and towards the fire. She paid it little attention. 

She was cold, but her chest burned. 

“Chae,” Chuu’s hand went to her shoulder, “what is it?” 

Gowon looked up, only to see that Chuu’s brow was already furrowed. She already looked more concerned than confused. 

“It’s just,” she glanced at the rest who’d looked her way, “I pulled a muscle today. Training.”

Kolina chuckled. "You're training too? For what?" 

Gowon didn't answer her. 

“Should I get the obsidian?” Sooyoung's brow furrowed. She looked more tired than usual. 

Gowon shook her head. More quickly than she should’ve. The thought of a glittering black rock made the pain even worse. She saw dark eyes filling with pinpricks of light, something she’d seen in the best moments of her life. She hadn’t seen those eyes in ages, not even in memory. 

She bit her lip as the pain grew worse. She felt something else then. It took hold of her, drawing her attention away from the physical world and towards the light. She saw the light held within the others and what she herself possessed. But flowing out from her was a thin grey cloud. It darkened the further away it went from her, going from grey to black. It disappeared into the forest, but a part of her knew it went much farther than that. 

And it was tied to her. She’d never seen it before. 

Watching it, Gowon felt bile rise in . All of it, the pain, the smoke, the memories—it was all wrong. 

“Come on,” Chuu stood, taking her with her, “we’ll go to Jinsoul.” Her eyes were on the forest. Where the grey smoke was going. She could see it. And the rest couldn't. 

“Nuala’s still around,” Teveril said. "Maybe she could give you something." 

Chuu ignored him and steered Gowon to the forest. Away from the grey. Gowon watched it. It flickered before dissolving into nothing. The pain dulled. As did the memories. The face that had been so clear to her, one with a smile, dulled in her mind. 

She found her voice. “Stop.” She didn't want to lose the memory of Hyejoo's face. 

”We can’t,” Chuu replied. “That’s what’s hurting you.”

“I,” Gowon faltered. What was she going to say? She needed to see her face again? It was impossible to forget what she looked like, but all Gowon remembered was a face streaked with tears and black blood. She only saw fear and confusion in dark eyes. If they stayed where they were, she'd see how Hyejoo had been before then. She wouldn’t mind the pain if she had that. 

“Wait until we're further away,” Chuu murmured. 

They walked between the tents and fires. Only one caught her eye. Haseul and Viian sat beside one, talking softly in the fae language. The fae had rarely been spread out enough to develop completely different languages. Of course there were dialects, but if you knew one, you could talk to any of them. 

Viian had eyes and hair that were a soft pink. Gowon wondered if her hair was that way because of her magic or just voluntary.

Then Viian looked up, straight at Gowon. Her brow furrowed for a moment, before it smoothed over. But Gowon knew she'd seen something. She wouldn't know what she'd seen, because she didn't know much about the magic of the moon. Not yet at least.

The newcomer's eye drifted to Chuu. And then the direction they'd come. Her blank expression remained, but she was fully focused on what was behind Chuu and Gowon. She was also seeing the bond. That should've been impossible. Unless the girl had some connection to that magic. Already? 

"Keep going," Chuu said. 

Gowon nodded. Her many questions about the newcomer grew. She wondered if Viian would ask Haseul about it or keep it to herself. Haseul would know to keep that a secret. If the rest learned that Viian had the magic of a seer, their confusion would turn to outrage soon enough. 

They walked to a portion of the forest much farther than the river they usually went to. If they walked really far, they’d get to a small lake, nearly a pond, but still large enough to swim and bathe in. 

She felt drained. Empty. She kept trying to summon what she’d seen when the pain came. She kept trying to see Hyejoo. What greeted her each time was a broken and terrified Olivia. 

It didn’t make her feel that terrible pain. Just an ache. 

Chuu led her to a fallen tree. She had her sit down. The other elf pulled out her waterskin and handed it to her. 

Gowon took it and drank. It was both warm and cool as it leaked down . The pain in her lungs faded, leaving only that ache. 

“You know what happened,” she said. It sounded more like a croak to her ears. 

Chuu didn’t respond, but when Gowon looked up, she saw resignation in peach-coloured eyes. 

Then she did say something. “Do you?”

Gowon shook her head immediately. 

Or did she know? Had she gotten some sort of message? Had Hyejoo realised that the light had bound them? Had she tried to deliberately rid herself of it? Or was this just a very pointed thought of hatred directed at Gowon? None of the questions seemed like they’d have a good answer. 

“Something happened,” Chuu said. “Something that strengthened,” she trailed off, “something.” She frowned. 

Gowon didn’t ask how she knew. She had her suspicions, but Chuu had never said a word about it. Seers weren’t all that rare, but they were always boxed in, kept safe and at arm’s length. Gowon knew Chuu would hate that. Not only did it mean she’d be seen differently, but she wouldn’t be able to do what she normally did. 

“Hye—she’s done something,” Chuu continued. “Or decided to do something. I don’t know. But it’s changed things. You felt the force of that, I think.” 

“Eline said it was broken,” Gowon shook her head, “that the bond was shattered.” The only pain she ever felt was because of the tatters that were left from it. This was a flare of it. Something twisted. 

“It did break,” Chuu replied. Coming from her, the words stung. “But I don’t think it ever disappeared.”

And those words struck her, as if she’d been tackled by a spirit the size of a bear. 

Gowon closed her eyes. “Don’t say that. Just tell me what it means.” 

“I don’t know.” Chuu’s arms went around her. “But figuring it out means actually facing it. So tell me about it.” 

“What I felt was—it wasn’t right.” 

The grip on her body tightened. Gowon leaned into the touch. 

“You know,” Gowon said. “You know what it was. What it meant?”

“Not exactly, but,” she faltered. She pulled away, but one arm stayed around Gowon’s shoulders. 

There were footsteps in that moment. Someone was running. Gowon recognised the footfalls and the steady breath. 

“Are you alright?” Yves was at her other side. Her hand brushed through Gowon’s hair immediately. “They weren’t exactly letting me leave. At least not with an excuse like muscle pain.” 

Gowon grimaced. “I could’ve said a heart attack instead.”

Yves chuckled. “You’re old, but not that old.”

“Not like you," Gowon threw back. 

A small pinch on her arm. Then Yves also wrapped an arm around her. 

“What happened?” 

Gowon glanced at Chuu. She just looked at her with warm eyes. 

When she looked back at Yves, the older elf was frowning between them. There was a flicker of hurt in her eyes. 

“I think I felt something from her,” Gowon whispered. She was almost certain that no one was around them, but she wouldn’t risk it. 

It may not have been general knowledge, but Eline had undoubtedly told the other elders about Hyejoo and her. It was so they’d know these connections could break. It had also made sure that in the first years, Gowon had been asked how she felt almost every other week. She’d stopped telling them that she felt cold, that she always felt alone, and that she hated what they’d done—what she’d done. Well, she hadn’t ever told them that last part. 

“Wasn’t that,” Yves began. “You said you never felt anything like that. Afterwards.” 

“I didn’t. Not until now.”

“That could be good, right?” Yves ran a hand through her hair. “Maybe she’s coming closer? Or got closer to the light somehow?” Even so, a frown appeared. “Is that possible?”

Gowon shook her head. “It wasn’t good. I know that.” 

“How?” 

“What I felt,” she huddled closer between them, needing the warmth, “it wasn’t right. It was off. I don’t know how, but I know it was…was—”

“Breathe,” Chuu said softly. “We don’t have to figure this out now.”

“We do,” Gowon said, trying to temper her voice. It’d been so long since they’d actually talked about Hyejoo. And it'd been so long since she’d felt anything slightly different to the constant ache. She needed to know why it was happening. “What if she made a choice, one that took her even further away?” What would that have been? 

Both girls were silent. Yves’s eyes were on the forest in front of them. 

“Further away from the light?” Yves asked. “Or from you?”

It couldn’t have been from her. Gowon had already done enough there. 

“And you never felt anything before?” Chuu turned to her, eyes now serious. They looked like that more often now. “Not even a tug?”

Gowon shook her head. She hadn’t ever forgotten, but had she missed something? Had she been on a hunt and mistaken a surge of pain for something else? No. It wasn’t a muscle pain. It was too distinct for that. Not even the ache could ever be mistaken for something physical. 

Chuu’s brow furrowed and she looked back over her shoulders. Towards the place they’d come. Could she see something? Something Gowon couldn’t?

“Does it still hurt?” 

“No,” Gowon said. “It stopped when we were walking away.”

“I don’t think distance has much to do with it,” Chuu said. 

She knew it was true. In the past five years, they’d been hearing accounts of a girl shrouded in darkness, creating dark spirits. Human guards had fought her, but only ever briefly. The mental fae and the few elves who had magic relating to memory had gone after those stories, finding the witnesses. Their memories had been revised to forget key details or chalk things up completely to superstitious ramblings. But the elves who had come to them, both to send word and to question them, had seen the memories themselves. They’d known it was Olivia. 

Some had wanted to go after her. They’d wanted to hunt her down. It had been the one time Gowon’s vote had done anything even slightly of use to Hyejoo. Her voice hadn’t been needed, neither had those of Chuu or Yves. Heejin had been the first to outright decline it, snapping at those considering it. Haseul and the rest had joined her. Chuu, Yves, and Gowon had only been able to voice their opposition when they weren’t around.

While the outrage towards the three of them had faded, Gowon knew that they’d never forgiven them. She understood it, but that didn't mean the glares Yeojin sent her were more bearable. It hadn’t made Heejin’s cold gaze any less painful. It hadn't lessened the shame when speaking to Hyunjin or Haseul, whose eyes had once been filled with disappointment. The only ones who didn’t show it were Jungeun and Jinsoul. Jungeun and Chuu had grown much closer recently. Choerry had started to look into their eyes around the same time. 

“What’re you thinking it is?” Yves asked. She looked at Chuu. 

Gowon could see the other’s mind working. Whatever she was thinking, she was going over her words, debating what to say and what not to. Gowon knew exactly that Yves would pick up on it. And that she'd be hurt. 

“It’s a warning,” Chuu said. “Something is bringing her closer to darkness than to the moon.”

Others would’ve immediately said that Hyejoo wasn’t connected to the moon anymore. Gowon couldn’t believe it. She knew the Chuu and Yves didn’t either. And the other girls also knew that Hyejoo hadn't been lost completely. They just hadn’t ever talked about it. It was an unspoken rule never to mention it to them. 

“And what happens if she gets there?” Gowon put a hand to her chest. She sought the light there. She looked for the grey she’d seen before. And she found it. It reached away from her only faintly. To some place far off behind her. Focusing on it brought the pain back, but it was only slightly sharper than the ache. She didn't see Hyejoo's smile. She saw nothing but the grey. 

“I don’t know. It could mean whatever you’re feeling now,” Chuu sighed, “that it goes completely?”

She felt cold at the thought. Nothing. Not even the pain from it? And now that she knew the bond wasn’t completely gone, what did that mean? Was the pain felt for years a result from it always being there? Even if only in shambles, it meant Gowon hadn't severed the bond completely. Even so, it didn't mean that it could ever be repaired. 

A thumb brushed across her cheek. Yves gave her a tiny smile. It was a shaky one, but an attempt at one. 

More tears fell as Gowon closed her eyes. She saw Hyejoo’s face again and she only saw her pain. The pain Gowon had caused. 

Where was she now? What was she thinking? What was she going to do? Or was it not going to be an action? Would it just be a moment in time when she turned away from them completely? A moment where there’d be nothing left? 

Gowon didn’t know the answer to any of that. She couldn't ask the others either. They wouldn't know. Bonds had been lost before, but they’d never been destroyed. 

______

Author's Note

A longer chapter this time. I wanted to show both sides of what's currently happening. There had been a point where I'd wanted to explore how Olivia had first come to the group she's in now. However, that's not the focus of this story. I may explore it a bit in later chapters, but it's not my priority. 

I've been using both their stage names and real names throughout. It's the most important in the case of Olivia/Hyejoo. If it gets confusing, just let me know, but I'm pretty confident that it'll be understandable who Jiwoo/Chuu is and so on. 

The matter of the bond between Olivia and Gowon may be confusing, but just know that it was damaged/corrupted on the day Olivia was banished. Where in the case of Heejin and Priad, it's there, plain and simple, the one between Hyewon is more painful than anything. 

And when the characters look into the light or darkness, think of it like when you hold a pencil close to your face. When you focus on it, the background blurs, when you look at the background, the pencil blurs. Looking into the light is like focusing on the background. I'll hopefully be able to explain that better in the next chapter.

Would love to know what you think so far. Both about the present and what happened in the past. 

Thank you for the support this story's already got! I was a bit nervous to start writing for Loona at first, but I'm really enjoying it. 

See you next chapter.