She’s all magic - it’s the way she moves her ringed fingers, weaving pink tendrils into reality. Heejin smiles at Hyejoo, barely breaking a sweat as she makes flowers bloom and trees bear fruit. It’s hypnotizing, the way her hands move.

“What?” Heejin asks, a laughter bubbling from her lips, and Hyejoo - simply a farmer, never having left the edge of her village - did not have the words to describe it.

“Nothing, ma’am.” Ma’am ; the word left her lips in a whisper, half-bitter; her family can’t afford the mage leaving because she’s rude, lest they go hungry. 

Heejin smiled, unaware of her thoughts, her robes swishing as she turned to face Hyejoo. 

“I’m not that old, am I?" She teased, sitting down on the shade of a tree, making a branch bend down so she could grab an apple. Heejin patted the ground, as if unaware her mage clothes would get dirty. “Come on, sit.”

She did, and the branch, still magicked into obeying, leaned down; Hyejoo grabbed an apple, polishing it for a moment on her shirt before sinking her teeth into it. It seemed sweeter, somehow. Hyejoo hated it.

Her eyes gazed to the rest of the farm, still yellow, still dead; the season had been too dry to allow anything to grow, and in a fit of desperation after seeing the kingdom’s cereal reserves dwindle, the king had sent mages all over to bring life to the ruined plantations. Hyejoo had been sent over as the mage’s guide, while her family did the picking. Magically-induced fruit lasted longer, tasted better, but rotted faster if left unpicked.

Hyejoo didn’t like it. Magic was… Weird , she decided. Too unexplained, relied too much on feelings; the books she snuck out to read told tales of mages who went off the grid, disappearing and causing natural disasters that had rocked the country to its core. The nobles, the offending party, never paid for it: it was people like Hyejoo, who simply wanted to tend to her crops and live in peace.

“So, tell me about this place.” Hyejoo looked at her, blinking slowly. Even the breeze carried the too sweet smell of apples, nauseating.

“What’s to tell? It’s just land.” She rested against the bark, bathing in shadows, playing with the apple. “It’s just farmland. Some cows. A few sheeps. I’m sure a mage like you has seen better sights.”

Heejin laughed, resting alongside Hyejoo. She bit her apple again, too-sweet meat filling , while Heejin kept playing with hers, up and down and up and down with a lazy tendril of magic.

“I’m a city girl, you know. Every city looks alike after a while.” Her gaze - her black eyes shimmered like water at sunset, full of magic, vaguely pink - wandered around the property, eyeing the rows upon rows of work to be done. “The countryside always is different, though. I think it’s all the expanse of sky. It always seems so blue.”

Hyejoo finished eating, discarding the core amongst the roots of the tree.

“You’re insane.” She decided, and Heejin looked at her, cocking her shead. To hell with it - if the mage couldn’t take the words, then it was on her. “A stretch of land is always the same, no matter if you go there today or in thirty years.”

“Will the same flowers be there? The same insects? The same sky?” Heejin asked, in reply, and Hyejoo huffed. Smiling, she rose from her seat, forcing the branch to bend once more, attaching the fruit back. It seemed even redder now, more full of sweet, crispy meat. Heejin offered her a hand, and she eyed it carefully. She did not wait for Hyejoo to do anything, though, grabbing her hand and dragging her away. “Come on. Show me why you think so. We have so much time.”

Hyejoo grumbled about it, but followed the mage nonetheless. Her hand felt warm - warmer than anything else under the sun they were -, and so did her face. She had no time to explore these feelings blooming within her chest, though; she was too busy, watching as Heejin’s fingers moved again, making magic happen. She couldn’t help but wonder if the mage was doing something to her heart, as well: it was beating too fast to be normal.