Tonight was a patrol of the forest. They didn’t have to go into the town to ask after spirit sightings. Jungeun always preferred those. Not because she didn’t like them, but because they tended to be exhausting. It always involved eavesdropping wherever she could, keeping actual contact to a minimum. Usually people recognised her, even if she didn’t have her light hair. So it was better to be seen as a wanderer than someone who always asked after weird sightings. Otherwise they’d think she was a witch. 

“When’s Viian going to replace me?” Chuu asked. There was a smile on her face. 

“She’ll be joining these,” Jungeun replied. “Once she’s gotten a grip on the basics.”

A small pause. 

“Please don’t tell me this is you protecting her.” Chuu sighed. “She doesn’t even know yet what you’re protecting her from.” 

Jungeun frowned. “Viian doesn’t know how much light she can hold yet. And she hasn’t even gone through a full moon yet.” It would be mad to let the newcomer on patrols like these now. She would, but only when the girl knew her limits and was strong enough. 

“And what’s Freya going to think if she’s not doing her duty?”

“She knew full well what she was putting her up to,” she shot back. “And if anyone’s got a problem with it, I’ll drag ‘em to the next spirit pair and tell them to fight with a steel sword.”

Chuu chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ve got no problem at all.”

She felt herself smile. “I know.” 

Another pause. 

“Yerim’s also wondering why she’s only gone to towns so far.” 

Jungeun sighed. “You were the one who said it’d overwhelm her.” 

Choerry had developed the abilities of a seer ten or so years ago. Uncommon among the Astra, unheard with anyone who wasn’t born an Astra. Seeing the potential paths of elves, spirits, humans, and animals had completely overcome Choerry on a patrol. 

It was on that day that Jungeun had found out Chuu was a seer. Choerry had told her she needed to get Chuu. And she hadn’t told her why. 

“I know,” Chuu said. “But she’s getting better. You can’t use it as an excuse anymore.”

Jungeun fought her next sigh. She wished she could explain herself, but Chuu barely agreed with her as it was. She didn’t want to open that discussion yet. 

“And what about,” Chuu began. 

She raised a hand. “Jinsoul’s got a lot to do with Nuala. And there’s no way does she have enough left for these after.” 

“And when there’s a full moon?”

Jungeun knew what she was getting at. She knew what the unspoken question was. 

Do you really want to keep avoiding her? 

The answer was yes. 

“I don’t want to talk about this now,” Jungeun said. 

Chuu’s eyes glittered. She got awfully talkative during patrols. Jungeun liked it. It meant Chuu trusted her enough to be open about her fears and what she saw. It also meant that Jungeun didn’t have to filter her thoughts as much. 

“Did you tell her yet?” Chuu asked. Her eyes were fixed on the forest. 

Already, just the mention of it gave Jungeun a burst of shame. Jinsoul still didn’t know that Choerry was a seer. 

“No.” It wasn’t because Jungeun didn’t trust her. She knew Jinsoul would keep the secret better than she could. 

Chuu looked both conflicted and confused. 

“Yerim doesn’t want to yet.” 

Chuu looked guilty then. “Got it.” 

And Jungeun knew she understood. Both her and Choerry were afraid of how people would look at them. Most seers were held at arm’s length. Usually. 

Jungeun fought a sigh. Getting people to accept Choerry as a seer would take years. And if Chuu had been able to keep it a secret almost her entire life, then so would they. 

“But should I start encouraging her?” Chuu asked. Jungeun gave her a look. 

She blushed. “I know, not the right person for that.”

“I’ll say.” Jungeun smiled. “She’ll be hurt that we kept it a secret for this long, but I know she’ll understand.” 

Chuu nodded, her gaze distant. They always were whenever this came up. The list of people who knew about her was small. It included her parents, but not the other two people most close to her. 

“Something happened,” Chuu began, “with Chaewon.” 

Jungeun frowned at that. “She got better?” As much as she wanted to dislike the girl, she couldn’t ignore the fact that Gowon’s light had faded the day of Hyejoo’s banishment. And both Chuu and Yves lived with that guilt, while also being rejected by people they’d once called friends. 

“No,” she said. “She just found out that the bond between them hadn’t vanished.” 

“They had a bond?” 

Chuu pursed her lips, regret flashing across her face. Still, Jungeun was flattered she was willing to talk to her this openly. She felt like she could trust her. And she could. The same for Jungeun. 

“Why didn’t you tell her?” 

“It wouldn’t have helped anyone,” Chuu said. “She would’ve tried to follow it, or make someone help her do it. And she hasn’t stopped looking at what’s left of it.” 

“She can see it?” The bond that the moon put between people was almost always only visible if the two people accepted it. Jungeun didn’t understand it. And she didn’t want to ask about it. There was the obvious reason that it was a sensitive topic, especially for Chuu, and she also didn’t want to open the subject about the person she was bound to. She wasn’t even sure if she was bound to someone. And she also didn’t want to know. 

“Yes. I don’t know why either, but it started to hurt her.”

Jungeun tried to think of a reason why. She was still reeling from the fact that Gowon and Hyejoo were bonded by the light, as well as the fact that their bond was still there. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

Chuu continued. “It might’ve been from her directly, but I don’t think so. It might have to do with whatever she’s doing right now. That she’s making decisions that’re taking her further away than she was.”

She had a hard time believing that. “The day we abandoned her wasn’t enough?” 

The other elf flinched. “It changed her, broke the bond, but,” she trailed off. “I don’t know. I just know it’s not good.”

“But how?” Jungeun had to press her. 

“The bond’s black,” Chuu whispered. “Starts grey, because of Chaewon’s light, but it turns black at this distance.” She held her hand half a metre away from her chest. “And it used to be grey and faded. Now it’s sharp, like glass.”

“And black,” Jungeun finished. “Do you think it could hurt both of them? Even worse?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged, “but how can we know that? No one’s ever had that.”

“No one you know,” she replied. 

Chuu’s brow furrowed. “No one’s got bonds leading somewhere else. Not even the oldest of us.” 

So no one had been bonded to a person they’d forced out. When Jungeun had first asked, Chuu had said there’d never been someone like Hyejoo before. Except Chuu was far from being the oldest elf. And Jungeun had already asked Haseul, someone who wasn’t against being critical of her people. She didn’t know about it either. 

But there were many Astra even older than her. Jungeun couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened before. Still, they wouldn’t be solving this tonight. Or in the next years, probably. 

“At least I know what was wrong with Yerim,” Jungeun said. Choerry been getting nervous and restless. Jungeun had thought she’d just been looking over to Chuu a lot, perhaps for reassurance. It must’ve been both Chuu and Gowon. 

“She saw that too?” Chuu’s brow rose. 

“Was she not supposed to?” 

She shook her head. “It’s just,” she bit her lip, “seeing the bonds is harder. And it’s even more confusing. At first you can’t even follow them.” 

Jungeun didn’t know what to make of that. She also knew that she’d have to be careful with what she asked Choerry. If she could see the bonds, Jungeun didn’t want to accidentally find out something she didn’t want to know, or others didn’t want her knowing. 

Out here, away from the camp, with just the two of them, Jungeun saw how uncomfortable this topic actually made Chuu. She hid it well. That skill had come from years of training and fear of being discovered. It was sad how desperate she was to keep it a secret, but Jungeun understood. She just wished Chuu didn’t have to. 

So she changed the topic, not completely, but at least away from bonds. 

“Yerim’s not liking what she’s seeing,” Jungeun said. “It scares her.” And Choerry tried to hide it, but whenever she looked Jungeun’s way, her brow furrowed. She was always watching out for a change in the light. Always looking into the near future, just in case something could change.  

Chuu nodded, looking both sad and understanding. “At this point, she’ll think every little change is important.”

“And is it?” They’d touched on the subject a few times, but unless Choerry was telling Jungeun about what she was going through, the topic of the future and its workings were a complete mystery to her. She wanted to keep it that way. But if learning more about it meant she could reassure Choerry and smooth out her almost daily frowns, then she’d force herself to learn. 

“The future changes just as many times as it stays constant.” She shrugged. “I try to tell her that, but with how the spirits are getting more aggressive,” a small sigh left her, “it doesn’t help with that lesson.” 

That meant the people who were at risk of getting hurt, did get hurt. Both Choerry and Chuu had said it was a change in the light, one that made them feel unsettled. Depending on what was going to happen, they either felt uneasy, or outright scared. 

“So think about stubbing my toe?” Jungeun asked. “Then decide not to a bunch of times?”

Chuu gave her a look. “Take it seriously.”

“I am.” She had the thought of ramming her foot into the next tree. She was just about to run for it when a hand closed around her arm. 

“You do that, I’ll tell Yerim the person she looks up to is a fool.”

Jungeun winked. “She knows that. Deep down.” She couldn’t help but marvel at Chuu’s reaction time. She wondered if the light flickered or if it was just a feeling that something bad was going to happen. 

Chuu nodded. Her light eyes flicked from the sky and back down to the forest. There was a furrow in her brow. 

It was then that Jungeun sensed something off in the forest. She turned her attention to the space around them. There were two brighter spirits following them. And there was something else to their far left. She could never pinpoint where the spirits were, nor properly distinguish between them. They were just a feeling of cold and an absence of light. Like the range of a fire, but in reverse. 

“This way,” she said, leading to them to the left part of the forest. She summoned a sword. “Do you see a fight happening?” 

Chuu sighed. It was answer enough. 

“You watch for the second, I’ll go,” Jungeun said. 

You always had to look out for a partner. 

Not always, she thought, thinking of the aggressive pale spirits. The fox that had chased Viian had also been alone. 

Pushing down those questions, Jungeun crept through the trees, heading straight for the swathe of darkness she saw. She spotted a dark red figure. Only one spirit. 

As they got closer, it turned. Had it heard them? They could only see and feel. 

Not anymore, she thought before summoning a rush of flames and light. It streamed towards the spirit. Jungeun threw herself after it, blade raised above her head. 

The spirit flapped its wings, flying off a small way’s away. It weaved away from the flames, but some caught its tail. That segment turned a brighter red. 

Jungeun’s sword sank into the ground. The strength of her jump caught up with her. Pain shot up her arm and she stumbled to the ground as well. 

There was a sound, as though glass were being smashed together, shrieking in the process. There was a bird call in that, but it was twisted. 

Jungeun got to her feet, using her good arm to take the blade from the earth as Chuu caught up. Either she’d dealt with the other spirit, or it wasn’t there. 

The spirit had the form of a large owl. Jungeun had to dodge as it dove towards her with a surprising display of speed. 

“Is there another?” she barked out. 

“No,” Chuu shot back. A moment later. "Let me handle it!"

Jungeun ignored her and leapt after the owl, swiping out as it tried some manoeuvre to turn around. The blade cut across its back, creating a streak of bright red. Not enough. 

The wing went back, slashing across her cheek. It was so cold it burned. The owl had slowed its movement then. Jungeun summoned a second blade and drove both into the spirit’s torso. The sound it let out neared a scream. Jungeun flinched. 

One of the swords melted into it, turning the feathers there bright red. But it still wasn’t fully turned. That should’ve been the blow that got it. 

The owl rounded on her again, going for a blow with its beak. Jungeun angled her head away, but the thing threw its entire body at her. The contact froze the skin beneath her clothes. It’d scratched her all across her front. 

Once that would’ve been impossible. Now it was their reality. 

There was a dull thud, like a heavy sack landing on the floor. The owl was thrown off of her. 

Jungeun could barely move to look at it. She felt drained now. 

The second blade had dissolved. A low hoot left it. Chuu stood over the spirit as it turned completely red. 

When the light engulfed its head, its eyes turned from black to blue. A very familiar shade. They were full of pain. 

She looked away. Although it was a coincidence, the similarities were too glaring. 

“Jungeun.” Chuu appeared above her, the staff she’d used already absorbed. “Are you alright?” 

She looked to the speaker, glad she could direct her attention somewhere else. Her face felt like ice. The owl’s talons had scraped across her abdomen, but it hadn’t pierced her. Still, her body felt freezing. 

Chuu was frowning between her and the spirit. Then the confusion was gone, replaced by concern. 

“Let’s get back.” 

Jungeun rolled her eyes. “These’re scratches.”

Chuu shook her head. “Believe me when I say we’re going home. Now.” She took out her waterskin and poured its contents over her. 

It burned. 

Jungeun hissed and shifted away. 

“It’ll help,” Chuu said. Her light eyes were hard, the edges around them tight with worry. Then she hauled her up. 

Jungeun risked a glance at the spirit. 

The owl looked at them with inquisitive eyes. Those blue eyes. The expression that shouldn’t have been there. 

She looked away again. All she could think about was Jinsoul as she spoke about putting moonlight into water, how incredible it would be to heal and energise everyone. Jungeun pushed the thoughts away. 

Instead she asked, “why does it feel like they can think?” Even before she’d come to the Astra, they’d told her that the spirits may take on the forms of animals, may show pain, but they weren’t alive. And each time Jungeun had faced one, no matter if light or dark, she’d wondered if that was true or not. 

Chuu was silent for a long moment. 

The spirit followed them, hopping as it did, hardly flapping its wings. It made sounds as it rustled along the ground. Jungeun had only just gotten used to the physical damage they could do. But this was still unexpected. 

“Because you’re paying attention,” Chuu said. A small pause. “They were always like that.” 

Jungeun glanced at her. Though her injuries hurt, though they were slowly freezing, she could still hear an edge to the other’s tone. 

And she saw a strange longing in Chuu’s eyes, joined with sadness. 

Just seeing it made Jungeun feel heavy and she wanted to ask what it meant. But that same expression stopped her. 

Chuu had already told her so much. She didn’t have to say more. 

And Jungeun was really cold. The cold didn’t spread, but it overwhelmed the rest of her that was warm. 

Her thoughts went to one person then. Their blue eyes wouldn’t be filled with curiosity, but frustration and worry. 

Jinsoul was not going to be happy. 

_____

Author's Note

I thought it was time for a chapter separate from both Vivi and Olivia's story, but they're both still referenced. This one was to focus in on Kim Lip and Chuu some more, as well as some more information about Choerry's character. 

In short, Jungeun and Chuu are closer than you might think. Partially for the reasons I've listed. 

As for the rest, I hope the explanations of seers was enough. They can see the future, but it's not like a proper vision. It's more a feeling they get and it's sometimes linked to a person or place. So if a person might end up getting hurt, a seer will have a 'feeling' that they will. It's like when you know a certain decision is not a good one, but you're still able to decide whether or not you do it.

I'll be exploring the fate and future more in future (ha) chapters, because it's a big part of this story for me. If it ever gets too confusing, just let me know!

Regardless, would love to know your thoughts. See you next chapter!