Jungeun breathed into her hands, wincing as she raised one of her arms. She let fire flow from her lips. She smiled as warmth engulfed her fingers, bringing some feeling back. She was still shivering. 

She needed to have a careful balance with her magic. She’d put on the warmest clothes possible, but warmed the air around her too. If she concentrated on just that, she could keep her magic going for longer. 

That it’d taken her years to realise that was disappointing. 

Jungeun kept breathing out fire, trying her best to avoid setting fire to her coat. She hadn’t gotten the right enchantment on it yet. 

She took the time to look around. It was a familiar path, but she hadn’t been here for a while. It went out a bit further than she’d wanted to for the past few months. She’d probably be back here next month. 

She wondered if Jinsoul would be okay with a longer journey like that. She’d probably agree to it if she was going with someone else. 

She didn't know if Jinsoul knew that she could visit home as well. She’d have to bring that up when she got back too. 

Of the things to hope for, the main thing was that Jinsoul had found herself a better place among the Astra. She’d already been fitting into Sooyoung’s group, with both Hyejoo and Chaewon warming to her pretty quickly. The time they’d spent together hadn’t been long, but it’d probably have been effective. Hopefully constructive. 

A gust of wind came and Jungeun shivered. Winter had come a bit later this year, but it was still just as strong. Except for the cold season, the seasons bled together for her. 

It was only when the temperature dropped, snow usually with it, that Jungeun’s year slowed. She had to be conscious about her magic and if she was warm enough. It’d been a disaster in the beginning, with Jungeun trying and failing not to get sick. That’d been followed by people using the season as an opportunity to come after her. She’d had close calls because she’d either lost her magic, or been too weak because of it. 

That’d been the main reason why she’d had to train her other abilities. Fire was powerful, but it was vulnerable to a lot of other factors. Lack of air, water, and the cold could all be used against her. Her father had made it a priority for her to be able to fight just as well without it as she could with it. 

It’d taken ten years for people to realise that the winter didn’t mean they had an opportunity to beat her. It just meant they had a slightly better chance, but even that was slim. 

After that, she'd just had to deal with the usual opportunists. 

Jungeun shook her head. She’d already dealt with two. She’d checked if anyone else was coming and she was almost certain no one else was. She hoped not. 

She was still nursing her arm since she finished that contract. It’d been on a warlock. She’d tracked down another warlock, as well as a witch to make sure she wasn’t killing some reckless youth. Her target had been trying to tap into the emotions of humans. He’d managed to drive at least ten insane. 

Jungeun had wondered if this was indirectly a job from the emotional fae and the witches were making her do it for them. They’d meet with her to know the details, or get the proof. 

She didn’t exactly have a problem with it. She just wasn’t sure why she’d had to get involved in the first place. 

As expected, it’d been easy. After properly seeing what he’d done, it’d been even easier to ignore his terror. He’d heard of her too. She wondered how that’d even come about. Sometimes witches were completely oblivious to their existence. Other times, they knew almost too much about elves and fairies. 

Jungeun pushed the thoughts of the contract from her mind. She had at least a month until she had to actually close it. 

She had a feeling she’d be weaker for a few weeks. She needed to get used to the cold again. After that, she’d meet with the witches. 

Now, she just had to focus on getting back. 

______

Jinsoul nearly had a heart attack when Jiwoo screeched something incoherent. It was almost impossible for that to happen, but it’d happened once. She’d had a hard time healing it properly. 

“A WARNING WOULD’VE BEEN NICE,” Jiwoo sprinted away from all of them, “you know the rune for messages!” Her voice had lowered to something tolerable, but it was still sharp on the ears. 

A very familiar laugh came from the distance, but it sounded stuffy. “I thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

Then Hyejoo and Chaewon started grinning. Still, they looked equally as shocked as Sooyoung did. 

Jinsoul went with them as they jogged to where Jiwoo had gone. 

“It’s great,” Jiwoo laughed, “but I was getting ready to miss you for a lot longer.” She was still hugging the person. They glowed in the night, but not as bright as the rest. 

Jungeun was smiling, but she was holding one of her arms above Jiwoo's. Her eyes weren’t as vivid as they usually were. Her hair was longer, her skin a bit more sun-kissed too. Jinsoul had found herself getting a lot paler now that she was supposed to be nocturnal. 

It was strange to see her again. 

“Did something happen?” Sooyoung asked. She pulled Jungeun in for a hug after Jiwoo finally let go. 

”Had something I needed to get back to Yeri,” she replied. “And I thought I’d come back a little earlier.” Her voice sounded slightly rough. 

“A little?” Chaewon repeated, not waiting for Sooyoung to let go before she joined that hug as well. “You’re almost a year early.” 

Jungeun scoffed. “Even if I was gonna be later, it’d never have been a year.” She patted her back before pulling away. She sniffed, before wiping her eyes. “Am I interrupting a patrol?” She looked between them. Her eyes met Jinsoul’s once. They really were dimmer. They looked bit bleary too. Maybe she was just exhausted. Jinsoul had seen the others be extremely drained, but their eyes had never looked like that. 

“We’re coming back from one,” Hyejoo said, taking one of the bags. “You’re wearing that again?” 

Jinsoul noticed then that Jungeun was wearing a heavily padded coat. She’d wrapped soft leather around her neck as well. There was a hood, but she’d pushed it back. Her hands were covered too. Most of their kind were able to withstand cold temperatures with simple coats. Few ever went as far as that. 

Then again, Jungeun's magic was tied to warmth too. Of course she'd be vulnerable to the cold. 

Jungeun coughed. It sounded a bit strained. “Yes, I’m wearing that. It’s winter.” 

“And?” Chaewon raised a brow. “You don’t see us wearing something that looks—”

“We’ve been over this,” Jungeun elbowed her, “this’s the best thing I’ve ever worn, but it’s also hideous.” She whacked her with one of the gloves. “Try going to the mountains without gear and you’ll beg me for this coat.”

Chaewon looked like she was close to starting another wrestling round. 

Then Jungeun coughed again. She covered , but Jinsoul heard exactly what was wrong there. 

“You’re sick,” Jinsoul said. 

Jungeun shrugged. “Always happens when autumn shifts.” Then she sneezed, wincing slightly. 

Sooyoung and Jiwoo were already walking back. Hyejoo was tugging Chaewon to follow them. They were having a silent conversation—almost an argument. It looked like Hyejoo won it when she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, picking her up off the ground for a few metres. Chaewon laughed and did the same. 

Jungeun lingered, looking at one of her bags. “I need to get this to Yeri.” She looked back in the direction of town. 

Jinsoul looked at it. Then she picked up on how Jungeun’s breathing was starting to sound like a wheeze. It was slow. “You’re not going.” She plucked it from her hand. 

She looked at her, dull red eyes filling with confusion. “What?” Her heart rate was also too slow.

“Did you walk all the way here?” Jinsoul reached out and pinched her hand. Hard. 

Jungeun didn’t flinch. She just frowned, looking from her hand to Jinsoul. “Yeah?" A pause. "Why'd you do that?" 

She couldn’t help but sigh. “How long have you been feeling sick?” 

“Just a few days?” 

She pushed her in the direction of camp. Jungeun stumbled. Jinsoul steadied her. 

“You’re too cold,” she muttered. She gave her a waterskin. “Warm that up and drink it.” 

Jungeun did what she said, still looking very confused. How she was even standing was a mystery in and of itself. 

Jinsoul lifted a hand to her neck, only to find the skin was freezing. “Do you have a routine for how to handle this?”

Someone called from ahead. “Keep it up until she collapses!” It was Hyejoo. 

“Then repeat,” Chaewon added. 

“Can you use your magic?” Jinsoul felt like she had in the beginning with her people. They’d all been so stubborn. The worst of them had been willing to go in for a fight after almost drowning in the ocean. 

“Haven’t been able to since this morning,” Jungeun replied. "Why'd you pinch me?"

Jinsoul nearly shook her. “Your body might shut down any minute,” she said. "I pinched you to see if you could still feel pain." 

The fire elf just looked at her, an eyebrow raised. She looked at a loss. Clearly, that fact didn’t bother her. 

Jinsoul kept pushing her to camp. “I’ll take that sack to Yeri. You’ll sit right by a fire and then eat and drink something hot.” 

“Jinsoul, this isn’t that serious,” she was saying, “I’ve had this—”

“Do you want to be sick for a month?” Jinsoul asked. “Because if not, you’ll listen to what I say.”

She started making a list for what she needed to do. It was nice making a plan like this again. She hadn't needed to do this in a few years. Most of her people had learned how to avoid getting badly sick. 

The Astra probably had yet to learn that. 

______

Jinsoul rubbed her hands together. The blood was slowly coming back to her fingers. 

“She’s never come to me for this,” Yeri said. “I didn’t even know you people could get sick.” 

“No one expects it,” Jinsoul replied. “And even if they do, they’ll just keep going, because they know they’ll recover from whatever damage they do.” It wasn’t healthy or enjoyable, but in a month’s time, no one would remember they’d been sick. 

The witch chuckled. “Sounds familiar.” 

Jinsoul put the bag onto one of the chairs. “This’s from her little adventure, or whatever it was.” The bag was strangely cool. She’d strapped it to her elbow to avoid getting too cold because of it. “She said to tell you it’s fresh.”

Yeri tapped it. “Wow.” Her face broke into a grin. 

Jinsoul watched as Yeri opened it. She found herself leaning forward as well, wanting to see what it was. 

Yeri pulled out several jars, along with a net with fruit in it. Some of them were ones she’d only seen rarely, but the others were more common. 

“What is it?” Jinsoul asked. 

“Extracts from plants I can’t grow here, let alone summon with the right potency.” Yeri grinned as she held up one of them. “And fruits that only taste as good because I know they were hauled all the way over here.” She caught Jinsoul’s eye. “What, underwhelming?” 

“A bit.” She paused. “No offence?” 

Yeri smiled. “She was surprised when I asked for it.” She tapped one of the jars. “But they’re honestly amazing.” She resumed the spell. “I can use these to make potions that let me see in the dark, breathe underwater, or put someone into the best mood they’ve ever been in.”

“Is it easy to make those?” 

“Depends.” Yeri shrugged. 

“And the one for water-breathing?” She didn’t know those existed. It was slightly worrying. 

“Uh,” she glanced up, “it’s in the middle.” 

“Really?” Jinsoul picked up a jar. “Do a lot of people use it?” She wondered what the Arcsa below the surface thought of that sort of thing. It was a risk for an attack. A foolish one, because few could even stand a chance against the Arcsa in their element, but still a risk. 

“No,” the witch shook her head, “it’s painful and all it does it let you breath. You can’t swim better or anything else.” 

“You’ve tried?” Jinsoul felt herself start to smile. 

“‘Course.” Yeri chuckled. “But the only time I’ve ever used it is to find the ingredients and creatures I need.” 

Jinsoul could only nod. 

Yeri was surrounded by several pots. The only way to get anything to grow in this winter. Jinsoul might’ve been able to do it, but she still hadn’t mastered the spell. And she knew the properties of the plants she summoned would be too weak. That’d been the main reason she’d come. 

And then Jungeun had passed her the bag of ingredients and fruit, telling her that Yeri would want them soon. 

Jinsoul wasn’t sure if Yeri was all that interested in them, but she had smiled pretty brightly. Maybe Jungeun hadn’t quite bothered to learn what Yeri needed it all for. 

“But your kind don’t die from a sickness like that,” Yeri frowned slightly, “is this really that necessary?”

Jinsoul nearly replied with of course, before she bit the response back. “No,” she said. “But being sick for longer than you should is foolish.” She'd had year-long debates with her people to actually accept someone resting when they got sick. 

She shrugged. “I get that.” 

The only sounds that came then were the lazy crackling of the fire, the slow bubbling of a potion somewhere else in the house, and the easy breaths of those cats. Jinsoul hadn’t seen them the last time she’d been here. Probably new additions. 

“What’ll you want for this?” Jinsoul asked. “Money, a favour in the next months, or help?”

Yeri just smiled, as if she knew something Jinsoul didn’t. “Nothing.” She squinted at one of the pots, before nodding to herself. “I mean that.” 

“Nothing,” she repeated. “This magic takes a lot out of you. I know that.”

“I know you do,” the witch replied. “But this isn’t a favour, it’s a gift.” 

Jinsoul knew she was frowning. Yeri laughed the moment she spotted it. The eucalyptus plant began to properly sprout then. 

“I’m serious, Jinsoul.” She smiled. “And with this being for Jungeun, it’s another thing I can shave off of what I owe her.” 

“Owe her?” Jinsoul asked. She remembered very vividly how Jungeun had been coming to Yeri for work, as well as giving her different payments. “Does she know you’re in her debt?” She sent a pointed look at the jars on the table. “She was going to walk here, freezing, just to give you those.”

Yeri snorted. “‘Course she would. If you asked her, I’d owe her nothing.”

“Why?” 

The witch sobered. The flowers were the next to bloom. 

“Did she save your life?” 

A short laugh. “I mean, yeah,” Yeri said. “But that wasn’t the main thing.” 

Jinsoul waited. The next plant was emerging from the dirt. It was starting to smell very strongly of eucalyptus. 

“What did she tell you?”

Jinsoul wracked her brain for when she’d first met the witch. “You were involved with necromancy once?” 

Yeri sighed. “That’s an understatement,” she muttered. “My entire coven was devoted to it. My grandparents managed to make their own breed of vampire, even turning themselves.” She shook her head. “And they ended up killing one of their kids, draining a bunch of others, before some other blood-ers ended them.” 

There was very clearly shame on her face. She also sounded angry. Jinsoul wondered if she’d actually seen those sorts of vampires. If she’d fought them. 

“My parents weren’t that much better. They were trying to cure vampirism,” Yeri grimaced, “but most vampires don’t want to be turned back.” She sighed. “Then you have me. I helped them with both,” she grit her teeth, “and when the time comes, the one where we’re supposed to get whatever retribution we’re owed, she’s there. With my mentor.” 

“How did they know?” 

Yeri chuckled, but it wasn’t filled with humour. “What we were doing, it wasn’t as if it was all in secret.” She looked to Jinsoul, the shame still painfully clear. “We got others involved, they either got us the vampires or helped us with the magic. And if what I’m hearing’s right, you moon-folk can spot necromancy pretty clearly.” She shrugged. “Dark magic like that affects spirits too. Either making them meaner, stronger, or both.” 

That meant the spirits were more closely tied to nature than Jinsoul had thought. If there were disruptions to the natural order, that affected the balance between the malevolent and benevolent spirits too. Just like more death, either caused through battle or some other disaster, called to the spirits. It probably made more of them too. 

“They got my father and one of my brothers,” Yeri explained. “Didn’t even bite him, because they didn't want him to have the option to turn himself back.” The haunted look in her eyes meant she’d seen it. “But they managed to save my mother, brother, and sisters too.” 

“And the vampires?” Jinsoul asked. They’d wanted to stop what Yeri’s family had been doing to their kind. Had they died for that?

“One of them died,” she said. “She’d left me with this.” Yeri lifted her shirt a bit. There were long scars across her side and up to her ribs. “Jungeun didn’t let her kill me.” She swallowed once, lowering the shirt again. “My mother was brought to the coven in the north to be judged. They executed her.” 

“And the rest of your family?”

“Split up among the covens,” Yeri said, a distant look in her eyes. “We’re still allowed to see each other, but they didn’t want us to be raised together.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said. The witch must’ve been young. She was still relatively young. And lonely, stuck here while the rest of her family was elsewhere. 

She shook her head. “It’s for the best. We thought what we were doing was right.”

Jinsoul didn’t know what to say to that. There probably wasn’t anything she could say. 

“But what Jungeun did was more than save my life,” Yeri continued. “She and the witch who’d seen what was happening—they were the only ones who were arguing to give us a second chance.” She closed her eyes. “I’m not sure if they were going to kill us. I still don’t think they were going to, but they would’ve left us to the covens, we—we wouldn’t have stood a chance.” 

“They were the only ones?” Jinsoul frowned. “You were just trying to help your family.” 

She gave her a sad smile. “But I helped to make abominations, then I helped to take away eternity from people who didn’t want to leave it.” 

“But were you going to turn against your family?” Jinsoul asked. 

“Even though I wish I would’ve, no.” Yeri shook her head. “But that’s why I owe her,” she said. “She’s the reason I’m here, and the reason why you even know me in the first place.” The final plant rose almost to the ceiling. “If it were up to anyone else, no one would’ve even tried to work with me, let alone for me.” 

“Do people not know the full story then?” 

“Oh they do,” the witch said. “But they still don’t hate me,” she shrugged, “I always thought it was the way they told the story.” 

Jinsoul could only nod. Did Yeri really think she deserved to be vilified for what her family had done? Even if she’d helped them, you couldn’t always choose to not stand by your family. 

“But anyway,” Yeri was picking off leaves and putting them into small bundles, “make sure she knows you didn’t have to give me anything for this.” 

“When’s the debt repaid?” Jinsoul asked. “How do favours you don’t need to repay, well,” she trailed off. 

“They don’t.” She handed her several of the bundles. “But don’t tell her that. She wouldn’t accept half the things I do.” She looked saddened at that. 

Jinsoul didn't know what to make of that, so she just accepted the herbs. “Thank you,” she said. “I hope that didn’t take too much out of you.” 

The witch shook her head. “It’s almost time for bed, anyway.” Then she frowned. “Speaking of, are you sure you want to go out there tonight?” 

Jinsoul smiled. “Night is where I’m supposed to thrive, remember?” 

“You came in shivering,” Yeri replied. Then she went over to the fire, whispered something and then came back. She held a torch. “This’ll last long enough for the walk back. Might even be warmer than light.”

Jinsoul took it. It’d only taken a glimpse into her past, but she saw Yeri differently now. She wasn’t sure if her impish behaviour was avoidance of her past, or showed her strength to overcome it. It might’ve even been both. That was usually the case. 

“Thank you,” she said. “But you should take this too.” She held out a piece of light. “I know it’s not as potent, but it’s something.” 

Yeri looked at it for a long time. 

Jinsoul pushed it into her hands. “Take it for my conscience.” 

She laughed softly. This time it had some warmth to it. “Okay. Just as long as you tell me why.” 

“Why what?”

“Why’d you come here for this?” Yeri asked. “From what I’m hearing, you don’t exactly like her.” She looked like she didn’t believe that. 

Jinsoul ignored what that suggested. “It’s an infection,” she said. “Nothing she should be keeping, especially if it comes every winter.” And if this was the first time Jungeun ever got something like that healed, then she’d spent years with an annual sickness. 

“She’ll recover quick. She always does.” She went to the boiling cauldron. “And she probably doesn’t let being ill stop her from doing much, right?” 

Jinsoul doubted that she ever would. 

The actual question still hung in the air. 

Why are you doing this for Jungeun?

Jinsoul almost didn’t answer that, but it felt wrong to not answer the question. Especially when Yeri had told her much more than she’d needed to. 

“I guess I owe her something too,” Jinsoul finally said. She then turned away. “Thanks.” She went to the door, not wanting to stray into whatever conversation they might’ve had. 

It was freezing when she came out. And the wind was starting to pick up. Jinsoul held the torch a bit closer to her. When the wind eased, it warmed her face some. The fire reminded her of someone else’s eyes, despite it being very far from red. 

She silently cursed the winter for bringing what it had. Then she broke into a jog, melting the snow along her path so she wouldn’t slip. But even then, it didn’t always work. 

Jinsoul wondered why Jungeun didn’t go somewhere else when winter came. It was simple enough for them to go somewhere with the opposite season. She’d avoid getting ill. She’d avoid the cold that she probably hated. 

And Jinsoul wouldn’t have to feel her hair slowly freeze as she made her way back to her. 

______

Jungeun sneezed. It hurt her head. She groaned. 

Then someone came in. “You know, I've actually seen a lot of elves get sick. I think I treated a fairy once, because they'd tried to test the limits of their cold resistance." 

Jinsoul had snow along the top of her head and her shoulders. Her nose was ever so slightly pink. 

Jungeun looked away. She wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that she’d missed her. That definitely wasn’t reciprocated. 

“She’s got whatever that delivery was supposed to be.” Jinsoul drew a bundle of cloth out of a bag. “But Yeri managed to summon some decent herbs too.” 

“Herbs?” Jungeun repeated. 

“Good for teas,” Jinsoul explained, “ointments too.” She set the cloth down on the small table, unrolling it. “Do you feel worse or better?” 

She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer that honestly. 

“You look worse.” 

Jungeun held back a laugh. Then she coughed. “Thanks.” 

The corner of her lip quirked up. Jungeun almost felt proud for bringing it to the surface. “The first thing you’ll get is eucalyptus mist.” 

“Me?” 

Jinsoul frowned at her. “What did you think these were for?” 

“Tea?” Jungeun suggested. “It’s winter.” She tried not to think about the flicker of warmth that settled in her chest. 

She just shook her head, siphoning away the water from her cloak before taking it off. “If you get sick like a mortal, you need to be treated like one too.” 

Jungeun felt stunned in that moment. Jinsoul had gone to get something. For her? 

“I don’t need it,” she said. “I get sick every year. It’s fine.” 

“How long’re you sick for every year?” Jinsoul raised a brow. 

“It depends,” Jungeun shrugged, “sometimes a week. Sometimes more.” 

There was a long sigh. Jinsoul was mashing a set of leaves in a mortar and pestle, both made of moonlight. 

Jungeun nearly wanted to tell her she didn’t need to crush the plants anymore, but thought better of it. 

Briefly, she debated raising the topic of home. She thought against it when Jinsoul kept crushing the plants. 

“Every single immortal being I’ve met has been just like this,” Jinsoul muttered. “You think that because it doesn’t kill you, any sickness shouldn’t be treated.” Then she sent her a sharp look. “And I’m pretty sure that even if you’re sick for a month, you do everything you’d do if you’re healthy?”

Jungeun didn’t reply. This wasn’t quite the Jinsoul she’d expected once she came back. Then again, she didn’t know her that well. Her people had also seemed to sorely regret the idea of Jinsoul having to leave. 

Maybe it’d been because she’d tended to just about any ailment. Or maybe there was another side to her that Jungeun had yet to see. She’d have to see if any of the others had seen it. Probably. Some people tended to change slightly once they felt comfortable where they were. That didn't mean they liked it, but it was some sort of progress. 

Jinsoul sighed again. She uncapped the waterskin and poured it into the bowl. “That’s why you’re sick longer than a week.” She came over to her. A short column of steam formed over the bowl. “Put your face over it, make sure you can breathe it in.” 

Jungeun did as she was told. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to even ask about how necessary this was. Jinsoul had a very specific tone in her voice, one that wasn’t filled with bite, but it wasn’t one Jungeun felt like questioning. Was this how she’d talked to the people she’d healed? Was this how she would be talking to others? 

She imagined they’d all listened. 

The water began to evaporate, the slightly sharp smelling vapour reaching her nose. 

“And you’re going to do this until I tell you it’s enough.” 

Jungeun hummed. Then she coughed. It tugged at her lungs more painfully than it had before. Whatever she had, it usually started slowly, then it got worse a lot faster. 

“Did your healers never tell you to rest?” 

She also didn’t know how to respond to that. She’d trained when freezing, ill, or weighed down by any other potential weakness. She’d needed to be able to handle any situation. She wasn’t sure if that was what Jinsoul would want to hear. 

“Nuala?” Jinsoul sounded slightly hopeful. 

“If it got really bad, I was kept here.” 

Jinsoul looked at her. It was more than a little intimidating. “I don’t even want to know what really bad was.”

Jungeun chuckled. You really don’t, she thought. 

“I’m having a talk with that woman,” she muttered. There were more sounds of shuffling, as well as the mashing of herbs. “You probably have some large idiotic rotation when a few of you cut yourself on a stray rock or get a bad blister.” 

“Well,” Jungeun started, “it’s usually because we end up spending resources we need for other things.”

“One resource you’re losing is time,” Jinsoul said sharply. “And it lets people feel terrible for a lot longer than they should be.” 

Jungeun couldn’t say anything to that either. Jinsoul was able to do that a lot: make something make so much sense that you felt stupid by even questioning it. She didn’t exactly do it in a condescending way. Some fairies could be incredibly patronising and it infuriated most people to no end. 

“You’re right,” Jungeun said instead, “but good luck convincing people they need to be healed for illnesses.” 

A short pause, filled only by the sounds of Jinsoul making whatever herbs she’d gotten. 

“Is the only reason you’re going along with this, because you’re exhausted?” Jinsoul asked. 

Not quite. Jungeun just hummed in response. Her breaths were already starting to feel easier. And the scent of eucalyptus wasn’t all that bad. 

“Okay.” Jinsoul was a lot closer now. “Drink this next.” 

Jungeun drew away from the bowl. Her entire face felt cool from the vapour that still clung to it. 

In the next moment, it vanished from her skin. 

“Was that you?” Junguen asked as she took the cup. Inside was a dark brown liquid. It smelled like earth. 

“Want it back?” Above Jinsoul’s hand was a droplet of water the size of her thumb. 

Jungeun fought a smile and shook her head. Something she wanted to see more of was Jinsoul’s magic. It fascinated her to no end. And Jinsoul had an interesting love for it too. She wanted to know exactly how it worked and not always how she could use it to her own advantage. That was something Jungeun had rarely seen in a person. She’d also never been the person to look for such a thing in her own magic. She wished she was. 

She drank from the cup and nearly spat it out. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed the first part, gagging. 

“I know,” Jinsoul said, a hint of amusement there. “It's terrible.” 

“Do I have to drink it slowly?” Jungeun asked. She peeked out of one eye. 

Jinsoul shook her head. Her eyes were still a bit brighter than earlier. 

So Jungeun downed the rest, holding in her disgust. “Is there more?” 

“For tomorrow,” she replied. “A few days of this and you’ll be better a lot sooner than without it.” Then she took the cup from her. “And you can’t do anything like walking for a longer distance, let alone anything close to training.” 

Jungeun stared at her. “What?” 

Jinsoul held her gaze. “You have a lung infection,” she said. “We don’t get permanent damage, but if you keep doing what you usually do, you’ll have a month of getting tired really easily. Maybe more." 

“I’ve had these before,” she countered. “And it’s always been fine.” 

“Key word is fine,” Jinsoul shot back. “It’s not like you’ll be able to do much if you’re tired after a minute of running.” 

Again, Jungeun wanted to tell her that she knew how to work around that. Not only was she capable of working against that, but the moonlight helped that too. 

But she knew she’d just dig herself a hole by opening that discussion up. 

She also didn’t want to ruin whatever strange peace they’d found for tonight. She wished she could know why Jinsoul had even bothered to help her, but she didn’t dare ask. Especially after she’d been gone. Maybe something had happened with the rest. Jungeun had no idea. 

Then again, it was probably in Jinsoul’s nature. She’d healed other people she’d barely known, just because they’d needed her help. And here, it didn’t matter that Jinsoul disagreed with almost everything Jungeun stood for, but that she was sick. Jinsoul was able to separate that and still help, even if healing an illness or infection wasn’t necessary at all. 

Jungeun looked away, a strange ache starting to settle in her chest. 

“Thanks,” Jungeun said. "For," she nodded at the cup, "all this."

Jinsoul just nodded. She looked a bit distracted, looking down at the cup. By the way her brow furrowed, she was thinking through something. Was she weighing the merits of healing Jungeun? 

“I haven’t yet,” Jinsoul said quietly, “but I might learn how Nuala heals with the light.” pressed into a line and she went back to the table. There was a bowl of water. It started steaming. 

Jungeun tried to hide her surprise. “Really?” 

She nodded. “We went on some hunts—tasks,” she frowned, “whatever you call them.” Two cups of moonlight appeared. She’d gotten better at shaping the moonlight. “Apparently you don’t have healers that actually go with you?” 

“Only on really risky missions,” Jungeun said. “If a seer sees it could go really wrong, then you get one.” 

Jinsoul turned around, her frown deepening. “That’s stupid.” 

She chuckled. “We can’t exactly risk losing one of our healers. It takes a while to perfect that magic.” She couldn’t help but think of how much her head had hurt after healing those fairies. She nearly asked Jinsoul about it, but she thought better of it. If Jinsoul asked her why she wanted to know, or how she even knew healing hurt—that'd just lead to a conversation she wasn't sure either of them wanted.

Jinsoul was pouring the boiling water into the two cups. There was a semi-mess with different leaves, as well as smears of green and brown. 

“What did Yeri want for that?” Jungeun asked, getting to her feet. She still felt lightheaded. 

Jinsoul looked up. “Sit down.” 

She sat. 

The blue-eyed elf nodded once. “She didn’t want anything. Said this was one of the many favours she owed you.” There was a clear question in her eyes. “And I guess what you gave her was enough too?”

Jungeun fought a sigh. She wanted to say there was nothing to be owed, but it’d only lead to questions. And if that story was ever going to be told, Yeri would be the one to say it. 

“I did a trip to the southern part of the world,” Jungeun said. “Not only do they have plants and all that, but they’ve also got stuff you only get there.” 

“All that way for a few jars and fruit?” Jinsoul asked. She came back with both cups. She pressed on into Jungeun’s hand. 

She laughed. “She didn’t tell you the benefits?”

“She did,” Jinsoul replied. “But that’s a long trip to settle a small debt.” 

Jungeun shrugged. “Not if you use the earth.” She took a sip of the tea. It was minty and almost a bit spicy. She drank a bit more. 

They sat in silence. Jungeun found herself wanting to fill it, but she didn’t know how to ask about what she’d missed without making things really odd really quickly. 

______

Jungeun was shifting around too much. Jinsoul wondered if it was because she was tired, but she’d started fidgeting too. The cup of tea had helped give her hands something to do, but it wasn’t perfect. She didn’t exactly do that when she spoke. 

“Where else did you go?” Jinsoul asked. She actually wanted to ask her if someone had tried to hunt her down. The chances of it happening were high, probably even higher since Jungeun got weaker in the winter. The only thing that stopped her was how Jungeun had looked after that initial attack. She didn't want to see that here. 

Clearly, the question caught her off guard. Confusion seeped into her expression. 

Jinsoul wondered if that meant anything. “I mean, you said you took the earth, but you were clearly walking for a while.” 

Jungeun looked away. “Someone I knew needed help with a few contracts,” she said. “My people told me and sent me over.” 

“Contracts?” 

The corner of tugged downwards. 

“First one was getting some fairies out of captivity.” Jungeun shrugged. “What they hoped they’d get from it, we don’t know.” 

By the way her expression shuttered, Jinsoul knew why. With the vampires, it’d almost been like some favour, but no one had called it a contract. 

“Second one was a werewolf they were hunting. I just had to restrain it.” Jungeun tapped the edge of her cup. 

That wasn’t unusual, just like some people hired healers for help, or requested the aid of fairies, they also wanted assassins, or something very close to mercenaries. Sometimes the lines between those weren’t exactly distinct. She wondered where the work Jungeun did fell there. Clearly, she hadn’t stopped either. 

“And the third was part of some investigation, I think. I didn’t have to interrogate, someone was else was there for it.” Then something flashed across her expression. Disgust. At herself or the investigation? It vanished. “I think they gave us a loose end.” 

“You think?” 

Jungeun looked away. “It was one of those things you don’t question.” 

“I don’t really know what ‘one of those things’ means,” Jinsoul said. Killing without distinction, without really knowing why—she wasn’t sure if that was worse than targeted cruelty or not. 

She didn’t say anything, but that guilt was showing through. Yet she’d still done it. 

“You’ve heard of my people before, haven’t you?” Jungeun asked then. “Not just what I’ve done.” 

“Enough to know you’ve fought the most battles.” And ended the most lives. 

Jungeun opened , then she closed it. “We have. So some hire the most skilled. Either they send us to intervene with something happening in the mountains, or to take out something else.” 

Jinsoul took that in. They were hired hands, at least some of them. And when they weren’t, they fought. That particular group of Crosa might’ve had the fewest amount who’d splintered away, but their pasts were the most violent. Jungeun stood out among them, along with a select few, whose names were also known. 

“So there’s certain people who’re always sent in for that?” Jinsoul asked. “And then they brought you in, because the person they’d already taken needed you?” Or did you want the job? 

“One of ours couldn’t,” Jungeun said. “So Reyna was alone for those. And,” she bit her lip, “those kind of things aren’t usually done alone.” 

Jinsoul found that more than slightly ironic. Jungeun went out on her own repeatedly and she wasn’t exactly avoiding any ambushes. Was it hypocrisy or was Jungeun just able to survive on her own better than the rest? 

“Are there any jobs you don’t take?” Jinsoul asked. 

“Ones that take me to freezing places,” she replied. “And stuff with mental fae.” 

Jinsoul was about to ask why when she beat her to it. 

“My head’s an easy target,” Jungeun said. She didn’t explain.

Jinsoul didn’t ask. She remembered what she’d seen after one of Jungeun's nightmares. A chill ran down her spine. There were probably more memories like that. 

And Jungeun hadn’t gotten rid of them. Some did, or they had a mental fae seal them off. That sometimes worked, other times it made things worse. 

The fire elf’s gaze was distant now. 

Jinsoul opted to change the subject. The sleeping agent she’d worked in took a little time to kick in. “So how does that all work afterwards? Do you get the payment or the person you worked with. Was her name Reyna?” The name wasn’t familiar. 

Jungeun nodded, before she got out of her head. “They handle all that,” she replied. “But it’s usually just to compensate on what we’re lacking at that point in time.” 

“Which is?” Jinsoul wondered if she was going too far, but Jungeun wasn’t acting as if it was getting too much. At least not yet. 

“Sometimes it’s money, mostly the mortal kind,” she laughed slightly, “we end up spending too much.” 

Jinsoul wasn’t sure how much money the fae even had, let alone if they ever needed it. They came to the mortals if there was a pressing need, but even then it was only a select few who left their clans. Most didn’t see the need to watch how the mortal world developed, while others wanted to avoid exposure to other threats as much as possible. The fae weren’t always the strongest, even if their magic was often the most intricate. 

And she spotted a slight waver in Jungeun’s expression. That meant money wasn’t all they were getting. 

“What about your arm?” Jinsoul had drawn the rune before she’d left. She drew it again now. 

“That was for the fourth job,” Jungeun replied. “Had a warlock.” She watched the rune glow, before fading. “He broke the minds of mortals, trying to recreate the magic of the emotional fae.” 

Jinsoul frowned. “So who sent you after him?” The fae usually liked to go after those sorts of people themselves. “Did the fae come to you as well?”

She shook her head. “They did for that first one, but otherwise they don’t,” she said. “This was sent by witches.” She pulled out a transparent slip of parchment. She gave it to her. 

On it was the town and a short description. Underneath, in a slightly different scrawl was: 

Don’t stop for discussion. No need for discretion or imprisonment. Kill him. 

Jinsoul felt a distinct sense of wrong then. "They don't give you a reason?" 

Jungeun looked down at her hands. 

"You don't need one?" Even as she asked it, she realised that Jungeun did know the reason. She didn't ask her how. 

"Not usually," Jungeun said. "Most of the time we don't need it." 

"Is it better that way?" Jinsoul could already feel that she was pushing her again. She'd leave that as the last question. 

I'm telling you this, because I've seen actual monsters. 

Sooyoung's words came back to her. Those of the rest joined too. The constant emphasis that Jungeun saw this as her duty. 

And at the same time, she'd been trying to tell Jinsoul not to fall into another duty. 

Was that hypocrisy? Or had Jungeun just spent too much time in that cycle of violence and ignorance? 

Jungeun finally spoke. "It used to be." She pursed her lips. "And I guess I'll find out more once I get the payment for it." 

"You get that personally?" 

Jungeun smiled, but there was no warmth to it. "They wanted me to do it," she said. "And they wanted to meet me after." 

Jinsoul frowned. "You're agreeing to that?" It didn't matter if there'd been a good reason to hunt down the warlock. Even without Jungeun's history, this was a risk. 

"Not yet." Jungeun looked like she'd already decided. “But I can’t see them like this,” she waved a hand to herself, “I can fight like this, but it’s better to avoid outsiders knowing we can get sick in the first place.” 

“So once you’re better, you’ll just go through the cold again?” Jinsoul asked. “And then you’ll reach them and be sick again? Or at a disadvantage?”

“I don’t lose my magic as easily after I get sick,” Jungeun replied. “It’s like a shock to the system. Then it gets better.” 

That didn’t exactly sound right. 

Jungeun laughed “I deal with this every year, Jinsoul. I don’t know why it happens, but it gets better.” She turned away from her, before coughing. It sounded better than earlier, but still painful. Then Jungeun straightened. “You know, I’ll be going as soon as I can. Your home’d be on the way.” 

Home. 

“Just like that?” 

Jungeun looked surprised. “We’re not banned from seeing our people,” she said. “I go home every few years.” 

She still called it home. 

“You can go with someone else,” Jungeun said then. Hurriedly. “Just not alone, because, well, that wouldn’t be a risk they’d allow you to take.” She grimaced, as if expecting Jinsoul to protest.

She didn’t. “It’s fine,” Jinsoul said. “You and I can go.” She shrugged. “You want to see you family too.” 

“I already did,” she said. “That’s how I got that last one.” 

“Won’t they think it’s strange if you go home twice?” 

Jungeun laughed. “Homesickness is something none of them really know, unless you’re part of the wanderers.” She shook her head. “So no one can really tell me that’s odd or not.” 

Jinsoul wasn’t exactly following that reasoning, but she nodded once. 

“But anyway,” that uncertainty came back, “you can go earlier. Maybe Sooyoung or Haseul’d go with you, or someone else.” She was fiddling with the fabric of her clothes now. 

“Okay,” Jinsoul said. 

Jungeun looked up, her brow shooting up. It seemed like she didn’t believe her. 

“It’s fine,” she told her. “We’ll go to both.” She felt a bit excited to be able to go home. She’d never asked. Maybe she had assumed they’d be blocked from going home, at least for the first few years. 

But they weren’t. That was a relief in and of itself. 

______

Jinsoul was looking at her, an unfamiliar expression was there. It wasn’t judging, nor frustrated, or amused. 

She felt a flutter of nervousness then. She wondered if it was because Jinsoul had become more unpredictable with that stunt of getting the herbs for her, or just because she still found her intimidating. Maybe more because she knew nothing about the time that’d passed since she’d left. 

Jungeun looked away. That ache faded soon after. Probably just from the infection. 

“It’s fine. We’ll go to both.” 

The nerves eased. 

“Great,” Jungeun nodded, “I mean—good.” She hated how her words got mixed up. Her face warmed. 

“I’ve got guard duty,” Jinsoul walked to the edge of the tent, “are you hungry?” 

Jungeun shook her head. 

“Then you should get to bed,” she said. “I’m serious.” Then she was off. 

The scent of eucalyptus was still embedded in her nose. Jungeun still couldn’t quite believe what’d just happened. She couldn’t believe that Jinsoul had even gone to Yeri in the first place. 

They’d really gotten lucky with the water elf. The Astra had someone whose ideals were set above a lot of other things, even her own personal beliefs. That was rare in most people, even rarer in immortals, especially elves. 

Jungeun stood, her balance wavering briefly. She trudged over to the bedroll and laid down. She wasn’t tired. She forced the fire to dim a bit, but drew it closer to her. Winter was her weakness. Now it’d made her sick, again, while also not letting her fall asleep. It also left her to her thoughts. 

The more she learned about Jinsoul, the more she saw what sort of a person the elf was. And that just made her wonder why the moon had chosen the two of them for the Astra. It was so clear why Jinsoul had been chosen, but her being there made Jungeun’s situation even more unclear. The Astra needed someone who questioned their magic, their ideals, while helping their people at the same time. 

And whatever Jinsoul lacked now, it’d be something she’d learn. She’d come to trust the others and she’d master the moonlight. If she ever did decide for it, she’d become established among the healers too, with Nuala recognising what she brought to the table. 

Jungeun smiled just thinking about it. With any luck, Jinsoul would realise she had a place among the Astra soon enough. Maybe she’d even start to see it as her home once she saw that. 

She hoped so. 

Jungeun closed her eyes, her breathing finally easier. The pressure on her lungs was still there, but whatever Jinsoul had given her had helped make it bearable. 

And then she felt it, a light drowsiness had come over her. Had Jinsoul put something in that mixture? 

She should’ve felt a rush of panic then, as well as anger for being forced to rest. 

But it didn’t come. 

______

Author's Note 

I've been updating this story a lot. Mostly because I've finally gotten to a fair amount of scenes I'd already written. It was just a matter of weaving them in properly. 

There was a slight tone shift too, partially because things were relatively heavy (at least for me) and also because there's been a bit of progress? By progress, I mostly just mean that time has passed. Jinsoul's seen more of both the Astra and Jungeun, not quite everything (naturally), but a bit more than before. 

A part of me wanted to space the updates out, but given that it's the holiday season and I've had a good amount of time, I decided to put more work in now, then later. 

Hope you enjoyed the update, would love to know your thoughts if you have any on what's happening. Not sure when the next chapter will come, but if it's after the new year, I wish you all the best until then! 

See you next chapter.