Someone being at home in their element had never made sense to Jungeun. When she was surrounded by fire, she was either angry, training, or fighting. A part of her knew she belonged there, but the other part wanted to think that the place she belonged wasn’t wreathed in flames. 

And yet, watching Jinsoul propel herself through the water, a slow smile forming on her face, Jungeun understood. 

It reminded her of when Jinsoul walked across the surface of the river before. Jungeun had meant it when she’d said the mortals would’ve seen her as a goddess. Jinsoul was beautiful, but not in the way that you’d ever think was deceptive. 

Now in the water, she looked less like a goddess, but no less beautiful. 

Jungeun had been told that her own appearance didn’t match her actions. She’d seen it too, when people saw her, but didn’t know who she really was. Once they found out, shock spread across their features. Even if they were her allies, she usually spotted the fear before they tried to hide it. 

“It didn’t scare you earlier, did it?” Jinsoul’s voice broke her out of her thoughts. 

“What didn’t?” Jungeun tried to steady her voice. It was a far cry from the excruciating pain of before, but her hands still hurt. She’d once had to deal with a mangled foot for a week and every day until it’d healed had been terrible. 

“When I covered your skin with water,” she said. “I should’ve told you that was a possibility before, so that,” she turned in the water to face her, “you would’ve had a bit of a better warning.” 

“I was a bit more scared of having my insides crushed,” Jungeun replied. “So the water was fine.” 

Jinsoul’s brow furrowed. It arched up instead of down. “But it wasn’t exactly comforting, was it?” 

Jungeun fought a sigh. “Water scares me, but what you did wasn’t frightening. I knew it was safe.” She’d been scared when the water had reached , but that was to be expected. 

Jinsoul still looked troubled. 

“How’re your hands?” 

It was almost funny, with Jinsoul still swimming in the river and the sun setting in the distance. With what had just happened, Jungeun had a hard time rationalising most of it. All of it had happened so quickly. She’d barely registered that the elves were now on their way to the mountains, travelling through the earth. She’d barely even understood Jinsoul’s attempt at an apology. And now she was asking about her hands. 

“Fine.” 

“Fine,” Jinsoul repeated. “That’s a typical word people use when they’re in pain.” 

There was a short silence. Jinsoul had that look in her eyes again. It was the same one she’d had when Jungeun was ill. 

“Blood magic’s always going to be painful,” Jungeun said. “Even if you’ve drunk three healing potions.” 

“Three healing potions make you giddy, then drain you.” 

“I know.” 

Jinsoul sighed softly. Jungeun almost smiled. 

“Does fire have the same effect for you?” Jinsoul was swimming on her back now. Well, not exactly swimming, since the current was carrying her, but she looked more than comfortable there. 

Jungeun shook her head. “It makes me stronger, and I think it’ll numb me during the fight, but only so much.” She lifted her hands. “The water’s helping more than flames could.” 

The water rose, carrying Jinsoul with it. She was sitting up, but still being pushed forward by the current. 

Jungeun couldn’t help but be impressed at the ease with which Jinsoul controlled the water. She’d been at the mercy of water before, but this was very different. 

She knew what it looked like when Jinsoul used it as a weapon too. She could only be glad that they were at least allies. 

Jinsoul was looking at her as if she was trying to figure something out. Jungeun was torn between backing away and staying where she was. Even without the anger or borderline disgust, Jinsoul was intimidating. Sooyoung and Haseul had told her about how hesitant Jinsoul was when it came to fighting. They’d also told her about how she was more driven to heal those during and after the fight, how she was clumsy when it came to hand-to-hand combat, fumbling with the moonlight she summoned. They’d also told her a bit about Jinsoul being friends with sea creatures, including fish. 

They didn’t seem at all intimidated, somehow already beginning to find things to pick fun at. Chaewon’s eyes had lit up the moment she’d heard that Jinsoul had befriended a sea slug. She especially liked to question what thoughts a sea slug could even have, as well as what things Jinsoul had in common with said sea slug. 

“Reyna spoke to me yesterday,” Jinsoul said. 

Jungeun tried to steel her expression into something unreadable. Of all the things to talk about, from the sharks Jinsoul liked better than she did Jungeun, to the fate of the blood elves, Reyna was not on that list. 

She must’ve failed, because Jinsoul frowned. 

“Should she not have?” 

Jungeun didn’t know what to say. Yes, was what she wanted to say. “What did she want?” 

“She wanted to know if something had happened?” Jinsoul’s brow continued to furrow upwards. “Something that would’ve led to you healing people?” 

Jungeun couldn’t help but make a face. 

“What?” Jinsoul was now on eye level, the water practically dangling her above the river banks. 

Jungeun only shook her head. “She’s just making something small a lot larger than it actually is.” 

“You think so?” Jinsoul asked. 

Jungeun forced herself to hold her gaze. It was easier than she’d thought it would be. 

“Because she seemed to think it was quite the change for you.” 

Jungeun almost wished she hadn’t stayed with Reyna after they’d freed the fairies. “She also thinks I’d be better off if I just let a mental fae, as well as an emotional one, in my head.” 

Jinsoul looked at her. Jungeun heard how the current driving her came to a slow halt. “But didn’t the fae come to help the others?” 

Jungeun stiffened. Had Reyna somehow raised the subject there as well? 

Jinsoul seemed to notice that too. “You have your reasons to not accept them,” she said. “Have you actually told people them?” 

“Any mental fae they managed to send my way learned easily enough.” She tried not to think about what else that brought. It didn’t work. 

Jinsoul nodded once and went back to the river. Was she going to leave it at that? “Who is she to you?” she asked, back to drifting across the river. “Unless that’s too,” she didn’t finish the sentence. 

Personal? Jungeun nearly said it was, but at the same time, it was hardly the most personal thing she’d said to her. Oddly enough. “We used to do most, if not all contracts together,” she said. “Pollux was there for some, but it was mostly the two of us.” 

“And that stopped with the moon?” She spoke with clear caution in her voice. She also didn’t look extremely curious. Either she was hiding it well, or just leaving room for Jungeun not to say anything. 

“Before that,” Jungeun admitted. “But there were other reasons.” 

Jinsoul hummed once. She didn’t ask anything else. 

Jungeun was more than a little surprised that she wasn’t prying. She’d have answered the questions if they’d come. 

The night of the feast hadn’t been enlightening, but they’d shown her one thing. Jinsoul was far from actually trusting her. 

She trusted her in the sense that she didn’t think Jungeun would turn on her. Where that trust ended was in how Jinsoul saw her. With what she knew about Jungeun, things were probably inconsistent. They always were around the people who hadn’t known her for years. The Astra had seen the inconsistencies as well, with a few of them trying to find out why they were there. 

Jungeun wondered if Jinsoul was seeing them and thinking they weren’t true. With the person Jinsoul was, and if she really had healed some of the people Jungeun had hurt, it wasn’t really all that surprising. 

“I’ll make the runes again.” Jinsoul had stepped out of the river. Water trickled away from her in small streams. 

“Aren’t you cold?” Jungeun had rolled up her sleeves to lessen the pressure on her arms. She’d had a hovering fire beside her to keep from shivering. It hadn’t really worked. 

“I can handle the deep sea alright,” she replied, gesturing for Jungeun to kneel down. She drew the runes on the ground next. “Just how I’m sure you can handle volcanoes.” She looked up then. 

Jungeun nodded. “It doesn’t burn me as quickly.” 

A small frown appeared. “Didn’t you say you had to learn,” she glanced at the fire, “how to not get burned?” 

“It’s like breathing,” she replied. “As good as a reflex now.” 

“So you wouldn’t feel the better if you, well, stuck your hands in a fire?” 

Jungeun laughed. “Only did that when I nearly got frostbite on them.” 

Jinsoul frowned. “Did that work?” She sounded almost appalled at the prospect. 

“More or less,” she replied. “It hurt.” 

Jinsoul’s hands went over the water then. Jungeun felt it solidifying here and there, tugging at her fingers. She hissed at one point. 

“Sorry,” Jinsoul grimaced, “need to make sure they’re healing right.” Her brow furrowed further. 

“What?” Jungeun wasn’t entirely used to the expression she saw there. “Is something—”

“Today was my fault,” she said. “I wanted to believe they’d talk to us. I didn’t think they’d attack us—you.” 

“I thought today went well.” 

Jinsoul’s shot to hers. “It was the opposite of that.” 

“They didn’t kill us.” 

Confusion flickered across her eyes. “They almost did.” 

“They didn’t try to,” Jungeun replied. “Ildra was going to take me somewhere else and,” she paused, “well, if they’d wanted to kill you, it would’ve happened in the first seconds.” She didn’t like how it sounded, but that was how it worked. She didn’t tell Jinsoul how she knew that either, not when she’d probably figure it out in a few minutes anyway. 

“And the Warsans?” 

“We would’ve used the sleeping draughts,” Jungeun patted her bag, “but the Warsa are a lot better at transporting people, even if those people’re blood wielders.” 

Jinsoul nodded, but there was still a question forming. 

Jungeun waited. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“If you want.” 

Jinsoul gave her a look, but there wasn’t much of any irritation there. More just mild annoyance. “How do you know so much about the Warsa? How do you know Jeonghwa and the others?” She made it sound like she was asking something difficult. 

Jungeun was almost relieved that it was simple. “I was there for a few years.” 

She just looked at her, still confused. 

“No one took me there, they probably would’ve had a lot to deal with from my people if that was the case.”

“When did you go?” Jinsoul was walking with her now. She was limping. 

“You can go back into the river.”

Jungeun was about to summon another cane when some water left the river and wrapped around Jinsoul’s leg. A staff of ice grew from it too. That was her answer. 

“I went twice,” Jungeun said. “Once was two centuries ago, I think. The second time was after I killed Brieth.” 

Jinsoul opened , but seemed to stop herself. 

“It wasn’t long. Ten years probably, but it helped.” Jungeun shrugged. “The only time I had to leave in that time was when they asked me to come back. It was for a—” She sighed, wondering when Jinsoul would hear a story where she hadn’t fought or killed anyone. 

Jinsoul nodded. “And why go in the first place?” 

“I,” she hesitated, unsure if Jinsoul really wanted to know that, “we sent a lot of people to the Warsa. That’s supposed to be our form of justice, but no one ever sent me away.” She shrugged. “Ten years is barely what it should’ve been, but my people didn’t let me stay much longer than that.” 

She remembered how Reyna had practically shouted at her, trying to make her see that she shouldn’t have ever been there. She’d tried to convince her that Jungeun was practically innocent. 

“You’re nothing like them!” Reyna had screamed. “Stop telling yourself you are.”

Jungeun had been close to sending her away. 

Then Reyna had taken her hands and pressed an almost desperate kiss to her lips. 

“Come back with me,” she’d said, voice soft. “We need you.” She’d looked at her, her gaze was so warm, welcoming. “I need you.” 

Jungeun hadn’t known why then, but the words had clung to her, sending her into a panic when she thought of them long. That’d remained for years.

Until the moon had given her light. Jungeun had left and seen that they didn’t need her. She’d caught glimpses of it when she’d been among the Warsa, but it hadn’t sunken in then. 

Jinsoul was still waiting, listening. 

“Because I came willingly, they basically just gave me guard duty, and sent me to the mortals to get deliveries.” Jungeun wondered if it was normal to look back on those times fondly. “No contracts. No battles.” 

Jinsoul was quiet for a moment. 

Jungeun slowed her step a bit as they walked. She kept looking to the light to see if they were being followed. Now was a good opportunity, with both of them hurt. 

“Why do you keep taking these contracts?” Jinsoul asked. “If you liked your time away, and the life you have with the Astra, why keep doing the work?”

Jungeun shook her head. “I don’t think I can give you a good enough reason for that.”

“You,” she started, then stopped. “You don’t have to.” 

Jungeun turned to her.

Jinsoul jumped. 

It didn’t make any sense. Why would Jinsoul say something like that? 

“I mean it,” Jinsoul said.

Jungeun frowned. 

“You,” another moment of hesitance, “you’ve already had to explain yourself.” 

“Not to you,” Jungeun said.

“Yes you have.” 

“Not enough.” 

“You don’t have to,” Jinsoul repeated. She looked at Jungeun’s hands, then back at her. Something in her expression had softened. Jungeun had never seen her look like that. 

“Why not?”

The guilt was back. “After what I said to you—“

“Jinsoul,” Jungeun shook her head, “I told you, there’s nothing to apologise for.” 

“There is,” Jinsoul said, her jaw tight. “You took everything I said without even defending yourself. You should have.” 

“Wait, I—“ 

“Jungeun, I expected the worst from you.” Her eyes were on the ground. “I thought you were trying to prove something to me, that you’d come here to make me,” she broke off. She shook her head. “I was so wrong.” Then she met Jungeun’s eyes again. “And don’t tell me I wasn’t.” 

She closed . 

“This entire time, you could’ve—you should’ve defended yourself.” Jinsoul looked to the river. It sank further into the banks. “You never did. And I’m not talking about your life, I’m talking about everything I expected from you, because it wasn’t fair.”

Even if Jungeun had wanted to, she wouldn’t have known what to say. She wasn’t sure if Jinsoul would let her, at least not until she’d finished. 

“I said you’d lived surrounded by violence your entire life,” Jinsoul said. “I was wrong about that too.” 

She avoided tripping on a root then. She looked over at Jinsoul to make sure she did the same. 

Jinsoul took her elbow then, pulling her back. Her grip was gentle, still cool from the water. 

Jungeun tried not to look too surprised. She turned to face Jinsoul properly. Jinsoul’s hand slid to rest just above her wrist. 

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes met Jungeun’s and there was a flicker there. 

Don’t be, Jungeun wanted to say, but the words didn’t even reach . Something stopped her. She was almost certain it was the look in Jinsoul’s eyes. And the certainty that she wouldn’t really listen if Jungeun said that. 

“I wish I could say more,” Jinsoul said quietly. “But I don’t know you enough yet. I don’t,” she sighed, “there’re some things I can’t look past.” She looked even guiltier now. 

“That’s fine,” Jungeun replied. “Believe me when I say we’re probably getting stuck on the same things.” 

Her brow furrowed again. “You mean you’re agreeing with me?” 

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

Jinsoul’s gaze softened. 

She couldn’t help but look away. This was far from what she’d grown used to when she was around Jinsoul. 

Jinsoul’s thumb gently traced the back of her wrist, before she pulled away. She cleared before she practically jumped back into the water. There was no splash. The water was pulled back into the river before that happened. 

They didn’t speak much after that. Jinsoul told her a bit more about her people and what else Jungeun could expect, but other than that, there was little. 

Even so, it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

Jungeun still felt uneasy with Jinsoul’s apology. She knew it was genuine, but she wished Jinsoul hadn’t felt like she’d needed to apologise. She wished she could tell her that, but it was clear enough that Jinsoul wouldn’t accept that either. 

They kept walking. 

_____

“It’s a lot better,” Jinsoul said. “Trust me.” 

Jungeun raised a brow. “You’re practically an expert at noticing who’s faking all the little signs, how do I know you’re not doing that right now?” 

“Because I don’t force myself to handle broken bones as if they’re little scrapes.” She nodded at her hands. “And you’ve had all those little signs since it happened.” 

Jungeun pursed her lips as she looked at her hands. They were still swollen, but at the very least straightened out by the water. 

“My leg is fine,” she told her. “I can walk, I have a crutch for it, and the water.” She patted her arm. “I’m doing a lot better than you are.”

Jungeun snorted. “Thanks for rubbing it in.” She looked at her with amusement in her eyes. The kind tended to make her eyes glitter with fresh light. 

Jinsoul looked away. “Now,” she said. She took some water from the river and replaced what was around Jungeun’s hands with it. 

She hissed once, before sighing when Jinsoul filled the water with moonlight. “They say healers are the worst patients.” 

“I’m not a patient,” Jinsoul said. “You are.” 

Jungeun closed .

Jinsoul fought a laugh. The fire elf could be stubborn, but there were moments where she all of a sudden stopped to argue. It sometimes felt like a way she tried to avoid conflict. Other times it felt like Jungeun just didn’t know what else to say. 

Either way, it ended up making things a lot simpler. 

And anything even close to simple was good. Especially after what had happened since they’d accepted that offer to go after the blood elves. 

“Have you heard anything from your people yet?” Jinsoul asked. She still didn’t know what exactly the witches had told her, but Jungeun had continued to be on edge when it came to sending word to her people. It wasn’t to tell them what was happening as much as it was to make sure that everyone was alright. 

“Nothing,” Jungeun said, slightly stiff. 

“That’s a good thing,” Jinsoul replied. 

She relaxed slightly. “Right.” She frowned at the ground. Then she looked up, a smile slowly forming on her face. “Hear that?”

Jinsoul listened. In the distance, she could hear the slow crash of waves. She closed her eyes. 

“Can you feel it from here?” Jungeun asked, voice a lot quieter. 

She nodded. “I can feel it from almost everywhere.” In only the most extreme of distances, she had trouble finding the sea. Most of the time, it only took a few minutes of peace and quiet to sense the distant pull. 

“How’s it compare to the river?” 

Jinsoul opened her eyes, only to see that Jungeun was looking down at the ground again. There was a hint of that uncertainty again. She was still cautious. 

She could barely blame her, even if Jinsoul had apologised, it’d probably sounded empty to Jungeun. 

“It’s endless,” Jinsoul said. “It’s more dizzying than when you look up at the night sky and realise it never ends, because you can actually go further into the depths of what you’re seeing.” 

Jungeun shuddered. 

“That probably sounds terrifying to you.” Jinsoul knew how the depths could be scary, but she couldn’t understand Jungeun’s fear of water as a whole. 

She smiled. “It really does.” 

That was another thing that was surprising. Jungeun didn’t really keep it a secret what scared her. For some reason, she hated it when the spirits took the form of insects, even if they were less threatening than the ones that took the form of actual bears or lions. 

“Can you swim?” 

Jungeun chuckled. “‘Course I can.” 

Jinsoul held up her hands. “I’ve met quite a few elves who can’t.” 

“I learned when I was five, I think,” she pursed her lips, “probably one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.” She met Jinsoul’s eyes. “And it was in a pond.” 

She had to laugh then. “Really, more scary than a werewolf on a full moon?” 

Jungeun nodded. “My feet didn’t touch the ground.” She shuddered. “And then something touched my foot.” 

“A plant?” 

She looked embarrassed. “Or a fish.” 

Jinsoul smiled. “That means it wasn’t scared of you.” 

Jungeun put her face in her hands. “But I was. Still am.” 

“Most fish aren’t too big.” 

“Sharks are big,” she replied. “And whales are supposed to be huge, right?”

“Have you never seen one?” Jinsoul stopped walking. “Ever?” 

Jungeun peeked up at her. “No? And I’ve only seen the fish you can vaguely see in the pond, or the ones you eat.” 

“Have you ever been in the ocean?” 

“Not really.” 

Jinsoul pushed her next questions down again. Jungeun was afraid of the water for reasons that went beyond just her magic. 

“Hey,” Jungeun had lowered her hands, “a few bad experiences doesn’t mean I hate the ocean completely.” Her ears were still red. “I even tried being on a ship a few times. I got sick each time, but it wasn’t terrible. I think.” 

“You think?”

“Looking out at the horizon didn’t help me.” She scratched the back of her neck. “So I got drunk and stayed under deck.” 

“Below decks,” Jinsoul corrected. 

Jungeun chuckled. “You’ve been on ships too then?” 

“I had one.” 

Her eyes widened. “So you were a captain?” 

“For a little while.” 

Jungeun grinned. “Were you disguised as a man, or did you manage it without the illusions?” 

“The first time I was, the second time I managed it without,” Jinsoul said. “But I did have to make myself look older, seem like I had the right amount of experience, and without the obvious.” She pointed at her hair. 

“Do you still have it?” As usual, Jungeun genuinely looked eager to hear the answer. Mortal forms of transport took so much time. Some Arcsa hated ships, but some enjoyed them, being able to combine the wind, the horizon, and the spray of the sea all at once. 

Jinsoul shook her head. “I passed it to my first mate. And it’s too old now.” Probably sunk too. 

“Would you do it again?” 

“I’d love to,” she admitted. “The more I see of the night, the more I want to see that out at sea as well.” 

There was a soft smile on Jungeun’s face. 

“What?” Jinsoul wished she could know what she was thinking. 

She shrugged. “Noth—well,” she laughed slightly, “I wish I could see it the way you do.” Her smile didn’t fade. The distant expression didn’t come either. 

“Have you ever just sat by the beach?” Jinsoul asked. 

“No.” 

“Try it while we’re here?” She listened for the ocean again. “You don’t have to, but I’d make sure none of the ones below the surface would try and play a trick on you.” 

Jungeun was looking ahead, a half-formed frown on her face. 

“I just meant,” Jinsoul bit her lip, “if you wanted to start to see it that way, just sitting by it would be a start.” 

“You’re right.” Jungeun nodded. “Sorry,” she grimaced, “it’s one of the things I can’t really wrap my head around. It’s frightening, but it’s not a living thing.” She glanced at her. “Unless?” A flicker of fear appeared in her eyes. 

She shook her head. “Some believe it’s got a spirit. I just think it’s got an inherent magic to it, but it isn’t alive.” 

Jungeun relaxed. Her brow furrowed. “You probably think I’m being ridiculous, huh?” 

“No,” Jinsoul said. “Not at all.” 

She looked over at her. “Really?” 

“It’s frightening. When we moved from the river to the ocean, I could barely handle feeling all that there was, knowing how far it went. I had nightmares about what was in the depths too.” Jinsoul shook her head. “And I know what it feels like. Drowning.” 

Jungeun’s eyes softened. “You did say you had to learn that.” 

She couldn’t hold that gaze either. Not when Jungeun had also felt the terror of almost dying because of it. Jinsoul had felt it knowing she could get out of it again, because her instructor would’ve helped her. 

“Your fear of water isn’t ridiculous at all, Jungeun,” she said. “If I wanted to, I could flood the land completely. I’ve done that before and I’ve dragged people into the sea, surrounded them in water, everything—” She sighed. 

Jungeun stayed quiet. She wasn’t sure if she was grateful for that yet. 

“Everything you’re probably afraid of happening, I think I’ve done.” 

“And you’ve done a lot more good with it too,” Jungeun said then. “You found a way to heal with it.” She lifted her hands. “The water’s actually not that scary when you’re using it. It’s actually more fascinating than anything.”

Jinsoul tried to see if Jungeun was just saying this to reassure her. 

“Anything can be used as a weapon,” she continued. “But not everything can be used to actually build, to help, or heal.” She shrugged. “And not everything’s beautiful either, but the water is.” She glanced at the trees, as if trying to see the ocean behind them. “And I’ll admit, I don’t see it yet, but I want to.” 

There was nothing, but that careful hope in her eyes and earnestness to her voice. 

Then Jungeun looked back to her. “What changed that fear for you?” She still looked hopeful, as if Jinsoul could give her the answer to overcome her own fears. 

“I learned how to withstand the pressures down there, the cold too,” Jinsoul said. “And then I saw what was down there.” She sighed. “That doesn’t really help you, does it?”

Jungeun laughed. “If there was ever the chance I’d be down there, it would, but you’d never find me in ‘the depths’.” She shook her head quickly. “But maybe it’d be a little less terrible if I actually knew what it was like to swim in the ocean.” 

“Start with the beach first?” she suggested. 

“I will,” Jungeun nodded, “but please, do make sure no one makes a joke of dragging me in there.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t guarantee I wouldn’t lose my mind.” 

“Promise,” Jinsoul said. “It’ll be safe.” 

_____

Jinsoul was hit with a wave of emotion when she felt the pull of the sea again. She nearly cried when she saw her home again. She actually cried when she saw her mother. 

She was enveloped in a warm hug in the next moment. Around them, people were calling that Jinsoul was there. 

“Were the stories true?” her mother asked. 

If those stories are true, I don’t want anything to do with her.

Jinsoul nodded. 

Lanah pulled away. She held her gaze. “Tell me later?” There was something close to pride in her eyes. 

Jinsoul frowned at it, but nodded. 

Her mother turned to Jungeun then. “You found your way back quickly this time.” 

They’d sent a message in advance, but it was obvious not many of the rest had been told about it. 

Jungeun smiled slightly, bowing her head. “I knew the way.” 

“You’ll both be staying for dinner, correct?” Lanah asked. “It took a small bit of convincing, but we’re prepared in case you attract any spirits.” 

“The area’s currently clear,” she replied, all semblance of fatigue gone. “I can do an hourly check.” 

“No need.” Jessica had come over. She smiled at Jinsoul. “Good to see you again. We’ve all missed you.”

Jinsoul returned it. It felt so easy here. She felt lighter. 

Then she frowned at Jinsoul’s leg and Jungeun’s hands. “What happened?” 

“You’ll explain later,” Lanah said. “We need to get started with the meal.” She started walking off. 

“I’ll fill you in on everything you missed later,” Jessica squeezed her arm, “but it’s not much.” She walked away as well. 

Jungeun was looking around, a bit lost. Jinsoul wondered if she’d looked like that at Jungeun’s home. 

“Want to come with?” Jinsoul asked. “You’ll see how we make food here. Properly.” 

The corner of her lip tilted up. “Our food is perfectly fine.” 

“There wasn’t any fish.” Jinsoul started walking across the beach. 

Jungeun followed. She was taking in the rest of the place. “It really is beautiful here,” she said quietly. “You should come here more often if you want to. If you use the earth, you can go alone then.” She was eying the ocean, both hesitant and curious. 

“And then someone has to be watching me sink into the ground,” she finished, shaking her head. “No thank you.” 

They reached the rest, the smell of fried fish filling in the air. Jinsoul felt another knot in her stomach ease. She’d missed this. 

Jinsoul watched as Jungeun offered to grill the fish. She watched as she actually managed to do it without charring it completely, but she avoided using her hands. They were still hurting her. 

And then Jinsoul was pulled into mixing the soup. 

_____

Later that day, Jinsoul’s mother drew her aside. From where they stood, Jinsoul saw Jungeun walking alone towards the beach. She stopped a few metres away, leaning from one foot to the other. She stayed there, just watching the waves. 

“What changed?” Lanah asked. 

Jinsoul looked back at her. “What do you mean?”

“Almost every story was true,” she said. “And there was even more we didn’t know about.” That was a look Jinsoul recognised. 

“What else did you know about her?” Jinsoul asked. “Did you know?” 

“Know what?” Lanah’s brow rose.

“That I’d—I wouldn’t—” 

“That you’d stay?” Her mother nodded. “I’d hoped so.”

“You’d hope so?” Jinsoul repeated. Then it struck her. “What did you know about her?” 

“Enough.” Lanah paused. “When I knew the moon had chosen you as well, I’d tried to see what else there was to know about her.” She looked at her, before her eyes went back to Jungeun. “Honestly, I don’t see it.” 

Me neither, Jinsoul thought. She’d seen how Jungeun was so effective, but she’d barely seen the ruthlessness the stories had sworn she had. She’d never seen the cruelty. 

“Did something change?” 

She shook her head. 

Her mother frowned, but she also looked slightly amused. 

Jinsoul looked back to where they were still preparing food. When she looked back to the beach, Jungeun had sat down, her feet stretched out in front of her. “Nothing changed,” she said. “I just listened.” 

_____

“So if I got this right,” Chaeryeon began, “you went to the ice caps, then the mountains, and then the southern islands.” She frowned. “For what?” 

“Jobs,” Jungeun replied. “We had to go there.” 

“But your magic suffers there,” Jessica said. “Wouldn’t you be a liability?” 

She shrugged. “What good am I if I can’t handle a little cold?” 

“The cold drains you,” Jinsoul said. “Just as higher altitudes drain earthers.” It also makes you sick. 

“Which is exactly why said earthers should spend the most time they can in the mountains.” Jungeun looked at her hands. She was eating carefully and slowly, but hadn’t given any indication that her hands hurt. 

“Or they avoid them,” Lanah suggested. 

The strange edge to her gaze faded. “Or avoid them.” She nodded. “Well,” she smiled, “I know what we’ve been missing back in the woods.” She took the last bite of fish. 

“Aquatic foods don’t make you tired?” Hyewon raised a brow. 

Jungeun laughed softly. “Not quite.” She winked. She looked a lot more at ease than before. 

Jinsoul looked away. “How have things been,” she asked quietly.

There was laughter somewhere else on the table. They definitely weren’t listening. 

“Without me?” 

Eunbi shook her head. “We’re doing fine,” she gave her a look, “you better not be here to help out again.” Then she smirked. “Elliane still has her eye on you, you know.” 

Jinsoul rolled her eyes. “I am not here for that.” 

“You should be,” she shot back. “Because I know you’re not gonna be with an Astran for a good amount of time.” 

“Don’t be so sure,” Jinsoul shrugged, “you haven’t seen them.” 

“I’ve seen one,” Eunbi muttered. “And if you haven’t been with her by now, you’re not gonna be with any of them.” She looked over at Jungeun. 

She shoved her lightly. “You can have her.” 

“I’m leaving that to the others.” She winked at her. 

Jinsoul rolled her eyes. 

Jungeun’s loud laugh caught her attention. Her brow was furrowed, her eyes crescents. 

Some people looked confused, while anyone who’d been in on the joke were laughing along with her. 

Jinsoul felt a bit more at ease then. 

______

Jinsoul got out of the water feeling better than she had in months. Even if it was her home, freshwater didn’t compare to the vastness of the ocean. She loved being surrounded by life, but also huge stretches of empty waters. It felt so much more freeing than anything on land. 

She let the water keep to her skin. While it was cold, she didn’t mind it. And she could warm it to an extent. 

Her legs felt tired. She hadn’t swum so much in ages. 

She lay down on the sand and looked up at the night sky. It felt more peaceful out here than in the middle of a forest. 

There were still sounds of talking and laughter. She could pick out her mother and Jessica. She couldn’t hear Jungeun. It wasn’t hard to figure out why that was, if the continued flirting of the night had been any indication. 

Her mind went to the light instead. She searched the ocean. She’d seen so many spirits in the depths. She’d fought off one malevolent one, but there’d mostly been benevolent spirits. It was a small wonder why. There was so much more peace among the people there. While they did have violent conflicts, they were so spread out, as well as wholly independent, that the violence was rare. 

On land there were the humans, elves, fairies, and so many other creatures, many whose creation stemmed from violence. It was almost alarming to consider the differences. 

Jinsoul took her eyes away from the light. She just took in the sky instead, letting herself get lost in the immenseness of it all. It was calming to just be able to gaze up at something, searching, but not looking for anything in particular. 

She must’ve laid there for an hour, maybe two. Then she heard two people talking. 

“Are you okay?” It was Eliane. 

“Fine,” Jungeun replied, her voice light. Too light. “I just don’t sleep at night. Mixed up times and all.” 

Jinsoul wondered if Jungeun was getting worse at lying, or if she was just learning how to read her. 

“Okay.” The sound of a kiss. “Thanks for tonight.” 

“Thank you as well,” Jungeun said quietly. 

Silence followed. There was a small sigh. Jinsoul wondered if they’d kissed again, but there wasn’t any more talking, or other sounds. Only the sound of walking. 

Jinsoul sat up. She looked to where it came from. 

Ever so slightly, Jungeun glowed in the dark. Her hair caught the moonlight too. 

Jinsoul was taken aback by how even then she didn’t look at all like the person from the stories. She seemed like someone from a different story. She usually acted like it too. 

She watched as Jungeun walked along the beach, not coming in her direction. 

Jungeun walked for about two minutes. Then she sat down as well, still glowing. 

Jinsoul was surprised she’d come out here. Then again, she’d talked about going to exactly the places one would think she’d avoid. Jinsoul thought of what else she’d learned about her. Did she go there because it made her weaker? Did she go there in order to build up resolve against it? And if she was afraid of it, how far did she go to combat that fear? 

Or did she try to see past that? With the way she’d asked Jinsoul about the ocean, maybe it was because she wanted to see the ocean differently. Or was she just trying to get over her fear?

She was also surprised that Jungeun didn’t go and join the rest. She seemed relatively comfortable with them. 

And that also gave her even more options for distraction. Jinsoul thought she’d have been the first to take it. 

Or maybe she’d been wrong. It wouldn’t have been the first time. 

More time passed. The sounds of the rest had lessened, though some were going to be celebrating far into the night. Those were the same people who still celebrated when they didn’t have a reason to. Jinsoul had sometimes been a part of that. Tonight, she wanted to enjoy the peace she could only ever have by the ocean. 

Jungeun was humming very lightly. It wasn’t annoying or piercing, but she still couldn’t tune it out. 

It wasn’t a melody she recognised either, but Jungeun’s voice somehow made it familiar. 

Jinsoul sighed and laid down again. 

The humming stopped. “Sorry,” Jungeun whispered. 

“It’s okay.” She felt a pang of guilt, before she pushed it down. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t supposed to. 

Jungeun didn’t say anything. She just stayed where she was. Jinsoul could almost see her with a perfectly crafted expression, her eyes a warm red, and a smile that didn’t show, but you knew it was there.

She was reminded of the person behind that. They were someone she also didn’t understand, but they were still there. 

Jinsoul got to her feet. She looked out at the water. The moon shone on it, illuminating a path along it. Jinsoul reached out to it. She felt it being drawn over to her. The water shimmered brighter. 

She heard Jungeun gasp. 

The moonlight rose with the water. A green and blue light also showed through. 

Then the light separated from the water, flowing through the air in a beautiful wave. It settled on her skin. She didn’t feel the chill of the air anymore. All fatigue faded. She wasn’t restless, but she felt awake. Yet there was a peace that settled within her mind. It felt like she was underneath the sea, or drifting through a river. 

It was different from the light she’d taken in before. She’d felt flickers if it before, but never like this. This light felt as if it were actually hers. 

Jinsoul turned away from the ocean, jogging over to where Jungeun was. She nearly stumbled on the sand, but she was used to that. 

Jungeun was watching as she went over. There was something close to awe on her face. 

“That was incredible.” She was staring up at her. 

Jinsoul almost blushed. She’d been subject to that look once before. It’d been with her magic as well.

“Can I,” Jinsoul started. She pointed at the sand. 

Jungeun nodded several times, looking slightly surprised. “Of course.” She wasn’t glowing as brightly as usual, but her eyes were perfectly visible. 

As Jinsoul sat down, she realised that the moon illuminated their part of the beach very well. It must’ve had something to do with their magic. 

“Has that ever happened to you?” she asked. 

“Never,” Jungeun chuckled, “my magic doesn’t work like that.” 

“But have you ever absorbed light through fire?” 

She was quiet for a few seconds. “Uh,” she looked out at the sea, “not really.” 

“Not really?” 

“I just give light to the fire,” Jungeun replied. “That strengthens it.” Then she looked back at her. “How do you feel?” 

Jinsoul didn’t have to think about it much. “Great. Better than with normal light.” 

“Wow.” She paused, her gaze thoughtful. “How’d you do that?” 

“I don’t know,” Jinsoul admitted. “I’d never seen the light like that before so I tried something.”

A slow smile started to form. Her skin glowed brighter too. “And it worked,” she said. “You seem a lot brighter. You already were, but this,” she trailed off. 

“What do you mean I already was?” 

“Oh,” Jungeun looked away, “I mean, since we got here, you look happier than I’ve ever seen you.” 

Jinsoul didn’t reply to that. She was right, but she didn’t really want to tell her that. 

She shrugged. “That’s not saying much, I know, because it hasn’t been long, but,” she trailed off before sighing. 

“But what?” Jinsoul asked. 

“I don’t know if it works, I’ve only ever done it for a short time,” Jungeun said slowly, looking very uncertain again. “But you could try staying here.”

“You’d let me?” She ignored the flare of hope. “They’d let me?” 

“You’re not a prisoner,” Jungeun replied. “You’re an Astra, or part Astran,” she added the second bit hurriedly. “And the reasons you were called to the camp, to leave this, was so you’d learn how to use that magic.” 

“You learned how to use it,” Jinsoul said. “And you stayed.” 

“I stayed.” 

“Why?” She’d wanted to ask this before. 

Jungeun looked surprised. Then she frowned, but it looked more like confusion than frustration. “That’s a complicated question.” 

“We have time,” Jinsoul waved to the sky, “technically it’s morning for us.” 

The fire elf was quiet. “I’m gonna answer,” she said. “Just thinking.” 

The words came faster than she meant them to. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Jungeun laughed. It wasn’t loud like before, but easy. Then a thoughtful gaze replaced it. “My life before,” she started, “I still do a lot of the same things now. I’m still the exact same, but,” she looked to the moon, “what I’m able to do now, I want that more than what I was doing before.” 

“That’s not vague at all,” Jinsoul said. She didn’t mean that, not really. She knew what Jungeun meant, but she wanted to hear the rest. 

The corners of her lips tugged up. “I was and still am a glorified mercenary. The only difference is I was also a flame for my people.” She looked down at her hands. “I burned wherever and whoever I had to. It was easy to leave it at that.” 

“Until you left?” 

Jungeun nodded. “I still fight, I still kill,” she pursed her lips, “but that’s not everything. I can—“ Her hands clasped together. “Anyway, I still go home, but I’ve left it for good. You don’t have to. Not really.” 

“I know,” Jinsoul said. “Finish what you were saying before? You can—what?” 

Jungeun let out a short laugh, but it sounded like a sigh. “If I fight a spirit, it’s not ending in it dying. It ends in it changing.” She looked at her hands. A small piece of moonlight appeared above her knuckles. “I can help people without hurting something.” 

“That’s why I love the ocean.” 

She looked up then. She didn’t look confused, but she nodded. There was that hope from before again. 

“It can be a weapon,” Jinsoul said. “It can be dangerous without anyone even wielding it too, but it isn’t like that everywhere, let alone the entire day.” She waved at it now. “The sea’s calm tonight. The only movement you see is what the moon’s showing us now.” She bit her lip. “And I’ve used it to hurt, to kill, but the water also lets me help people.” 

Jungeun nodded again. “But you also love it, because of this, right?” She looked at the horizon, her jaw tightening ever so slightly. “It’s peaceful?” 

“Do you think it’s peaceful, or is it just because I said it was?” 

She smiled slightly. “I’m starting to see it.” The tension in her jaw eased then. She was still looking at the water. “Is it really cold at night?” 

“Usually,” Jinsoul said. “But I can make it warmer.” 

Jungeun glanced at her. “And the current?” 

“I can slow that down too.” 

Red eyes went back to the sea. There was both interest and a bit of hesitance there. 

Jinsoul waited. 

“You know,” Jungeun said, “there’s only so much to get from just staring at it.” She sighed. “I’m seeing some of what you were saying, but the rest of what you talked about, that’s all from being in the water.” 

She didn’t say anything. She was almost hopeful for what Jungeun would say next. 

“The Arcsa down there,” she began, “they don’t know who I am, right? Have they ever even heard of me?”

“Heard of you, probably,” Jinsoul replied. “But none of them would hold a grudge.” 

She laughed slightly. “Now that’s rare.” She was still looking at the ocean. There was a lot less hesitance there. More curiosity than anything. 

Jinsoul mulled over her next words for a few seconds. Would it hurt to ask them? “Do you want to see what it’s like?” She slowly got to her feet. “Properly?”

Jungeun stared up at her, confusion flooding her eyes, but she stood as well. 

“Come on.” She took her arm and pulled her to the shore. 

“Wait!” Jungeun dug her heels into the sand. 

Jinsoul stumbled, nearly falling over. 

Then Jungeun steadied her. Her red eyes were bright, but filled with hesitance and more confusion. 

“It’s dark,” the fire elf said. “I’ve never been in the water at night.” 

“It’s beautiful down there,” Jinsoul told her. “You should see it.” 

Jungeun was shaking her head. “I can see it during the day too.” She was looking at the ocean, now as if it was a slumbering monster. 

“You could try seeing it at night.” Jinsoul made her skin glow. “And we’ll both have light.” Still, she loosened her grip. She wouldn’t force Jungeun if she was reconsidering. 

“Jinsoul,” she bit her lip, “I can’t go in there. I want to—I really do—but I can’t.” 

The arm Jinsoul held was tense. She could practically feel the fear starting to emanate off her. 

“Jungeun,” Jinsoul took her other arm, squeezing it lightly, “nothing’s going to happen. I can sense just about everything that’s happening within hundreds of metres around us.” 

“And what about beyond that?” Jungeun’s voice was nearing a squeak. 

“I’ll also be looking out for that,” she replied. Then she tugged her to the shore. 

Jungeun went with her, but she was still leaning away. “Jinsoul, I know this fear’s probably really irrational, but I’m actually terrified of the ocean.” 

She held her gaze. “I know,” she said. “But you’re brave enough to practically walk into an attack from blood elves.” She looked pointedly at Jungeun’s hands. “And you go off on your own, knowing spirits’ll be following you, and you’re prepared to be caught off guard almost all the time.” She nodded at the ocean. “That won’t happen there. Not if I’m there with you.” 

Jungeun opened , closed it, before opening it again. “I can’t walk in there.” She shook her head again. “Even though I want to, my legs won’t do it. I won’t do it.” 

“And if I carry you in there?” 

Jungeun’s eyes widened. “Uh,” she looked at the ocean, “that’ll probably just be more terrifying?” 

Jinsoul moved her hands to Jungeun’s upper arms. “You said you wished you could know what it was like,” she carefully pulled her over one more step, “and see it the way we do.” She gently rubbed her arms. “And there’s nothing I love more then just listening to the ocean moving around me, the distant sounds all distorted under the surface,” she said. “I want you to know what that’s like.” 

She meant that. Jungeun had been submerged before in her life, but not because she’d wanted to. She’d never been able to really take in the silence that came with being underwater. Maybe she’d hate it, or maybe it’d be something that would give her a bit more peace. 

Jungeun was looking at her, brow deeply furrowed and the hesitance overpowering her gaze. 

“I won’t throw you in. I’ll make sure nothing brushes past your foot or anything like that. You’ll be able to breathe and see fine. Promise.” 

She looked back to the ocean. Her heart was beating double what it normally did. Jinsoul hadn’t been able to imagine her being so afraid, but she was seeing it now. It wasn’t something she was used to. And now she was backtracking, maybe it was better not to force her. 

“We can do it tomorrow too,” Jinsoul said. “Or not at all.” 

Jungeun shook her head again. “No,” she sighed, “I’ll go.” 

“You have to want to,” she replied. “You don’t have to prove that you can handle this.” Because she really didn’t. An irrational fear didn’t mean Jungeun wasn’t brave. Jinsoul knew her well enough to at least know that was far from the truth. 

“I kinda do,” Jungeun laughed slightly, “but I really want to see.” She looked at the ocean and her smile faltered. “I just need a little push.” 

“But if you really don’t want to, we don’t—“

“You just have to push me,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Maybe even throw me, because I’m not walking in there. It’ll be fine.”

“Jungeun,” she started. 

“No really,” Jungeun smiled at her, “I trust you. And I actually want to see what it’s like when you’re just, you know, swimming.” 

“But—“ Then she realised what Jungeun had said. “You what?” 

Jungeun frowned. “What do you mean?”  

“You trust me?” The words sounded foreign to say. 

Then Jungeun laughed. “Of course I do,” her eyes had lit up, “it’s hard not to.” 

Jinsoul couldn’t believe her ears. “You don’t have—I haven’t given you a reason to.” 

The laughter faded.“You have,” she said. “Several times.” She didn’t wait for Jinsoul to speak. “I mean, you never even told the others about Yeri’s little jinx. They would’ve had the time of their lives trying to get me to fall for it again.” The corner of her lip tugged up. “Then you healed me that first time, when we—I was attacked.” 

Jinsoul closed . She’d probably looked like an idiot gaping at Jungeun. 

“It was lots of those things,” Jungeun continued. “The others trust you too. Jiwoo said she could fight with you at her back from that first time you fought together.” Her expression softened. “And so could I.” She was quiet for a moment, eyes flitting between Jinsoul’s. “This isn’t exactly fitting for the ocean thing, because I know I’ll be fine, but,” she bit her lip, “well,” she shook her head slightly, “I trust you. I have a lot of reasons to.” 

Jinsoul felt an ache in her chest then. As well as a wave of confusion. “But it hasn’t been that long. And the way I acted—“ 

“Time‘s got nothing to do with it,” Jungeun smiled, “I trusted Haseul from the moment I met her. You might’ve as well after a short time.” 

Jinsoul could only nod. 

“As for the way you acted,” she frowned, “I’ve been smiled at and praised, but I wouldn’t have trusted those people to even get bread with me.” 

Jinsoul suddenly thought of Jungeun’s mother taking her to get bread. She fought a smile. 

Jungeun chuckled then. “All that being said, get me in the water, and we’ll go from there.” She took another deep breath and looked at the water. “It’ll be fine, right?” 

Jinsoul nodded and started walking backwards. Soon, the water was at her heels. “You’re sure?” She held the tide back. 

She was eyeing the water. “I think so.” Her voice was an octave higher. 

Jinsoul gave her a look. 

Jungeun’s smile was shaky. “Just get me in there.” 

Jinsoul tightened her grip on Jungeun’s arms. 

Then she pulled her closer, letting the tide come even stronger than before. She forced the water to warm, before it grabbed them and pulled them into the ocean. 

A strangled shriek left Jungeun and suddenly she was clinging to Jinsoul’s side. She’d squeezed her eyes shut. 

Jinsoul brought them further out, but didn’t let the water go over their heads. She forced the light into her skin, illuminating the water around them. She closed her eyes, calming the current around them. Then she brought the water to submerge her head, but not Jungeun’s. She heard the chatter of the creatures and urged them all to swim away for now. 

Jungeun was trembling in her arms, but she wasn’t telling her to go back. 

Or maybe she too petrified to talk. 

One of the sharks suggested coming close enough to tap its nose on Jungeun’s leg. 

Jinsoul sent a stream of bubbles its way. 

Sharks didn’t laugh, but this one practically did as it swam away. 

Jinsoul opened , sending short pulses into the water, telling the creatures who’d understand, as well as any elves nearby, that Jungeun wasn’t a threat. 

Now she just needed to make it clear to Jungeun that she was safe here. 

The water fell away from Jinsoul’s head. 

Jungeun was staring at her. “I heard humming, then some other sounds. Was that you?” Her eyes were wide and her arms practically pinned to Jinsoul’s sides. She couldn’t exactly hold her yet because of her hands, but Jinsoul knew she would have been. 

“That was me,” Jinsoul nodded, “no one will be bothering us.” 

She took a few seconds before replying. “You were talking to them?” Her heart was still racing, but she’d relaxed. Not much, but a little bit. 

“I also told them you’re not a threat. Just looking.” 

“A visitor?” Jungeun laughed, but it was almost hysterical. “They can’t sense the fire in my blood, can they? Because a healer once said that to me, so I was worried—“

“Jungeun,” she tried to sound as calming as she could, “you’re perfectly safe here.” 

“I know,” Jungeun nodded, “but, well, the ocean’s deep. And it’s—“ She looked down, before closing her eyes again. “Oh it’s right there. That’s the worst part.” 

“It’s not that deep here.” 

Jungeun slowly moved her arms from Jinsoul’s side. “Please don’t let me go,” she said. “I just don’t wanna crush you.” 

Jinsoul smiled. “You weren’t.” A pause. “Well, maybe at first you were.” 

She chuckled, but her eyes were still closed. The moon was reflecting off her skin, as well as the droplets clinging to her. Her hair was also brighter. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Jinsoul squeezed her arms again, “but you’re in the water now. Maybe not swimming, but—“ 

“Please don’t make me swim.” Jungeun’s eyes flew open. Somehow they seemed brighter now than they had on the beach. “I really can’t do that and I don’t want to. I can swim, and I’ll prove that in a little lake, but not in the ocean.” She grimaced. “And don’t let me go.” 

“I won’t.” Jinsoul moved one hand from Jungeun’s arm to her side. “Don’t worry.” 

She nodded, giving her the tiniest of smiles. 

Jinsoul felt relieved seeing it. “We’ll just stay up here for a little while. Floating.” 

Jungeun pressed her lips together. She was still shaking slightly. 

“Is it too cold?” Jinsoul started to warm the water a bit more. 

“No,” she said. “I’m just still scared.” 

Jinsoul lifted her hand to her shoulder. “Can I do anything to help or is this something that just needs some time?” 

“Time.” Jungeun nodded. “I just have to get used to this.” She glanced at the water, but quickly lifted her gaze back to Jinsoul’s. She relaxed a bit more then. “I hate floating.” 

She needed a moment to process that. “What?” 

Her smile was sheepish. “I’ve never liked it. I tried in the beginning, in a pond, or shallow lake, but I really hated it. I barely like swimming.” 

Jinsoul chuckled. “Is this from being afraid of it? Or do you actually just not like the art of floating?” 

“The art of floating?” Jungeun repeated, smile widening. Then she shrugged. “It’s actually neither of those things, it’s—“ She stopped. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly, as if she was debating something. 

Jinsoul almost told her she didn’t have to go on. 

“It makes me feel powerless,” she said. “If I stop walking, I’m just standing. Floating is,” she sighed, “you’ll think I’m such an idiot for saying this.”

Jinsoul shook her head. “You’re not.”

Jungeun held her gaze, as if trying to see if she meant it. Jinsoul hoped she saw that she did. “Whenever I’m in the water, I feel like there’s a threat. Always one I can’t see, or barely feel. Until it’s there.” Her eyes became distant. 

“Did that happen a lot?” Jinsoul asked. How many people had she instilled a fear like this in? 

She paused. Then she shook her head, a bit slower than before. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Like what?” Jinsoul didn’t feel defensive. She thought she would have. 

Jungeun’s jaw tightened slightly. “I’ve been close to drowning before,” she said. “A few times.” She looked down at the water before looking up immediately. 

“Hey,” Jinsoul nudged her side, “if you’re going to start feeling bad for that, don’t.” 

“But you love the water.” She shrugged, her eyes still on the sky. “And you said being surrounded by it is also peaceful?” Her brow rose. “Somehow?” 

“It is,” Jinsoul said. “And I know it’s easier to say it, but if you just focus on the actual floating part, it gets better. You’re basically weightless, just like we are now.” She looked at the horizon. “Can I stop glowing for a bit?” 

Jungeun didn’t reply immediately. 

Jinsoul looked back to her. 

“Depends,” she said. “If we’re going under, that light’s not going out.” 

Jinsoul smiled. “Not yet.” She stopped glowing and held Jungeun’s arm a bit tighter. “Look at the sky, look at how the ocean and it are the same colour.” 

Again, Jinsoul was surprised at how bright Jungeun still was in spite of the light having left her skin. 

“Is that normal?” Jungeun asked after a long moment. 

“What?” 

“It’s so quiet.” Her red eyes were finally on the ocean, almost searching it. “I just hear the wind and the waves on the shore.” 

“That’s all,” Jinsoul said. “Up here at least.” She kept shut then. 

Jungeun didn’t ask anything else, but she was watching the space around them. Her heart was slowing down. 

She wished she knew what she was thinking. All she could see was that Jungeun was looking for something. 

Jinsoul focused instead on the ocean. There was a school of fish coming their way. She nudged them away with the current. If they suddenly came too close, she knew that whatever peace Jungeun was starting to find would be shattered. 

“I think,” Jungeun started, “I could try going under?” Her heart had picked up the pace again. 

“Yeah?” Jinsoul looked over. She let the light go to her skin again, illuminating the water. 

Jungeun looked down and stiffened. “Give me a minute first.” Then she sighed. “Wait, no.” 

“Should I just surprise you? Or do you want a warning?” 

“Warning,” she said immediately. “I’ll scream your ear off if you just drag me down there.”

Jinsoul probably shouldn’t have laughed at that, but she did. 

Jungeun relaxed. “And I’ll be able to breathe?” Her voice sounded small. 

Jinsoul nodded. “Your head doesn’t even need to get wet if you don’t want it to.” 

She frowned. “But you said it’d be best to hear it for myself.” 

“You’ve made it this far,” Jinsoul replied. “We don’t have to push it.” 

She chuckled. “Actually, we do.” She looked down at the water again. “Because I probably won’t be doing this for a while.” 

Jinsoul grimaced. “That bad?” 

Her eyes widened. “No! It’s great,” she said hurriedly. “Honestly, this’s the best experience I’ve had with the ocean, but it’s—” One of her hands gingerly went to her chest. “It’s a lot to take in.” 

Jinsoul just nodded. 

Jungeun was taking deep breaths now. “It’s not as bad as I thought,” she muttered. “Well, I didn’t exactly think much about it.” A pause. “But I can see it.” Then she took another long breath. “Okay. Warning and then just do it, otherwise we’ll be out here forever.”

Jinsoul shrugged. “I don’t mind.” Then she gathered a bubble beneath the surface. “Whole head?” 

“Not my ears,” she said. “I want to hear it.” 

“This’s your warning.” She waited two seconds, before diving down, pulling Jungeun with her. She felt her tense. 

She immediately put the bubble over Jungeun’s face, but didn’t cover her ears. 

The ocean was quiet tonight. That was good. Sometimes the whales decided it was the perfect moment to be loud closer to the shore. 

Jungeun’s eyes were still closed. 

Jinsoul waited. She let the light seep into the water around them, illuminating the depths a bit further. Thankfully, it didn’t show any creature’s silhouette in the distance. Jinsoul wasn’t sure if Jungeun would’ve handled that well or not. 

Then slowly, Jungeun’s eyes opened. She was still tense, her heart the quickest it had been tonight, but she looked around the depths. Then red eyes found hers. She was definitely scared, but not completely terrified. 

Jinsoul smiled. 

“Can you hear me?” Jungeun’s voice was muffled. 

She nodded. “And me?” She made sure the water carried her voice properly. 

“Wow.” Jungeun laughed. “That works?” She took a small breath, before gasping. “This works?” 

“Told you.” Jinsoul let them drift a bit further down. “How’re your ears?” 

“Fine?” 

“It’s the pressure,” Jinsoul explained. “My body’s used to sudden changes, but yours, mostly your ears, might not be.” 

Jungeun nodded. Her eyes left Jinsoul’s to look around. “It really is endless, isn’t it?” Even though the words sounded a bit shaky, there was a familiar awe in her voice. 

“Listen.” 

Jinsoul watched as Jungeun actually closed her eyes. She was still very tense, but she was listening.

“I’m not sure if I’d call this quiet,” Jungeun said quietly. “And the farther I listen, the more I hear things I’m not sure I want to know what they are.” 

“Listen to just what’s here then?” Jinsoul hoped the whales weren’t coming over here. The dolphins wouldn’t be the worst of company, but if Jungeun saw an actual whale, there was the chance she’d try and launch herself out of the water. 

Jungeun didn’t reply. Her heart was still beating quickly.

Jinsoul wondered what it sounded like to someone who’d never been here before. Was the constant rush of the water weren’t something you could just ignore. Were they too penetrating? Annoying? 

Then Jungeun let out a long breath. 

Jinsoul looked, only to feel her breath catch. With her hair drifting in the water and her skin glowing gently, Jungeun looked like she belonged there. She had a small smile on her face as well. 

The ache from before was back. 

Then Jungeun’s eyes flew open and she immediately pulled Jinsoul over to her. “What is that?” The fear was back in her eyes. 

Jinsoul listened, only to hear that the whales had started their calls. One of them was below them. He was swimming up to them. 

“Whales,” Jinsoul said. “Do you want to go back to the surface?” 

“Wait.” Jungeun kept listening. She shuddered when the next long whine came. “They aren’t dangerous, right?” 

“These ones are really nice,” she replied. “They’ve come here for a few years now. I’ve known this one for nine years.” 

Jungeun’s brow rose a touch. “So,” she started, “they’re a friend? They have a name?”

Jinsoul shook her head. “ We don’t give them names,” she said. “He’s asking if the others have seen you yet.”

“Me?” She looked startled. “From how far away is he coming?” 

“A few hundred metres.” 

Jungeun looked dizzy then. “Oh,” she said. “And how does he know I’m here?” 

“Gossip through the currents?” Jinsoul wasn’t sure if explaining how information travelled within the ocean would be helpful or harmful to Jungeun. She’d tell her another time. 

“Ah,” Jungeun hummed, “okay.” Then she looked down. “He’s closer.” In turn, she inched closer to Jinsoul. “They’re really huge, right?” 

“And absolutely gentle,” Jinsoul said. “They eat really small things.” She didn’t mention the kind of whale that ate larger creatures. 

“I heard about people who’d spent a day in a whale before.” 

“That only happens if you’re really stupid, or really drunk.” 

Jungeun’s hysterical laugh was back. “I think I’ll be able to handle seeing the whale, but after that I think I need to get back to the beach.” 

“We’ll go immediately.” Jinsoul debated what she’d do next. Was she really going to call for him? And was Jungeun actually going to manage seeing the creature appearing in the distance and then coming closer? “I’ll be right here.” She pulled Jungeun closer to her. Then she called for the whale. She also told him not to make any sudden movements, and to not react if Jungeun screamed. 

“How do you do that?” Jungeun asked. “That sounds exactly like the rest.”

“Practice,” she replied. “And the water helps with altering the sound.” 

“So you couldn’t do that on land?” 

“I could try,” Jinsoul laughed, “but it’d probably sound very messy.” 

Then the whale call was suddenly a lot louder. 

Jungeun jumped, moving her face away from it. 

Jinsoul let her hide in her side. “It’s okay, he’s just being dramatic.” 

Who is it? The whale in question was swimming a bit faster now. 

A friend, Jinsoul replied. Who’s terrified of water. 

And you brought her here?

“Do you want to see him arrive?” Jinsoul asked. “Or wait until he’s actually here?” 

“Neither,” Jungeun muttered. “But I can handle it.” She slowly peeled herself away from Jinsoul. 

Jinsoul put more light into the water, furthering the reach. 

And then she saw the large figure drifting upwards in the water. 

Jungeun let out a high-pitched curse, but she didn’t move. “Is that him?” Her voice sounded tiny. 

Jinsoul pulled her back over to her, lightly holding her waist. Jungeun’s eyes were glued on the whale’s form as it grew bigger, still slow-moving. 

“I can’t believe it,” Jungeun muttered. She was trembling. 

“Too much?” Jinsoul asked. 

”Almost,” she squeaked. 

Then the whale was barely fifty metres away. 

Not too close, Jinsoul warned. 

Why not? 

She’ll never come back into the water.

The whale came even closer. 

Jungeun’s eyes were popping out of her head now. 

Jinsoul hoped this wouldn’t traumatise her. 

“I always heard stories,” Jungeun said. Even through the water, Jinsoul could hear how strained her voice sounded. “That these were the most amazing creatures to ever exist.” 

Now the whale was twenty metres away. 

Then he passed them by, a twinkling eye met Jinsoul’s, before fixing on Jungeun. 

A low rumble came next. Light like you? More rumbles followed. 

“What’s he saying?” Jungeun asked. 

“He’s trying to figure out why you’re glowing too,” Jinsoul said. “It took me a while to explain when the moon first gave me light. Telling them about other elves is a little hard for them to imagine.” 

“Just like me imagining something like him is hard.” Jungeun stared as he slowly turned around in the water. Thankfully, he wasn’t swimming at the angle that let him catapult them through the water. 

“He also wants to know if you’ve ever seen the villages.” Jinsoul laughed softly. “He’d take you if you’d want to.” 

Her eyes were wide, but now confused instead of scared. “What?” 

“He’d let you grab his fin, then he’d bring you down to one of the shallower Arcsan villages.” 

“How do I politely say no to that?” Jungeun’s gaze was almost shy as she met the whale’s eye this time. 

Jinsoul translated it one way. Then relayed the next message. “He’s offering to take us further into open water and then back.” 

A small croak left Jungeun’s throat. 

Is that a yes?

“We don’t have to,” Jinsoul said. “It’s a lot faster than it looks when you actually try it.” 

“Is it fun?” Jungeun was half-frowning, half-smiling. Jinsoul didn’t know if that was a good thing. 

Meanwhile, the whale had gone to the surface to take a breath. 

“I think it is?” 

Jungeun shrugged then. “Then I think I can try it.” It sounded more like a question.

Go slowly, Jinsoul said as she made the water push them to his fin. Her hands are hurt. “I’ve got you.” She put one arm around Jungeun’s waist and put the other on his fin. 

Jungeun’s smile was strained. She didn’t say anything. 

And then the whale was off. 

Jungeun’s arms were wrapped completely around her. Jinsoul tried to make it so that the current wasn’t pulling at them too much. If Jungeun was suddenly drifting off into the sea, alone—she hardly wanted to think about that. 

Then the whale dove down. Jinsoul quickly made an air bubble around both their heads. Hopefully that would mean that the pressure didn’t get too high for her. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. 

Water streamed off her face. Jungeun looked surprised. When the whale started to move up again, she squeezed her eyes shut. “Can’t say I saw much of the scenery,” she muttered. “But I’m fine.” She looked dizzy again. 

Jinsoul patted the whale’s side. He slowly came to a stop. 

Boring. 

After telling him she’d be coming back another time, she told him thanks, translating Jungeun’s shaky one, before she brought the two of them back to the surface. 

“Was that too much?” Jinsoul asked when they surfaced. She made the current slowly propel them back to shore. They were far into open water now. 

Jungeun shook her head. “Nearly.” She let out a sigh. “But not too much.” 

Jinsoul still saw the relief in her eyes. “Do you think you’ll ever go into the ocean again?” 

She laughed. “Actually yeah.” 

“Really?” Jinsoul manoeuvred them so that the water wouldn’t spray into Jungeun’s face. 

“Not alone,” she said. Then she added, “but you wouldn’t have to do it again. I’m probably a handful there.” She grimaced. “Sorry for, well, not letting go of you.” 

“It’s alright, Jungeun.” She slowed them before they reached the beach. “I’d do this again if you wanted to.” Then she let a wave carry them back to shore, letting it rise a lot higher than normal. 

They both stumbled when their feet hit the sand. Jungeun all but collapsed. 

“Are you okay?” Jinsoul checked if she was conscious (she was). Then she carefully pried the water from their clothes and hair. Jungeun would probably get horribly sick if she spent too long in soaked clothes. 

Jungeun closed her eyes. “Tired,” she murmured. Then she tapped her shirt, pinching it. “Thank you.” She smiled, before laughing softly. “You—your magic is really incredible.” 

Jinsoul felt her face warm at that. “The water does most of the work.” 

“But you do great things with it,” she replied. Groaning, she pushed herself back up, slowly opening her eyes again. “Not just the healing, but using it to talk underwater, move the way we did, help people who can’t breathe.” Her smile grew. 

Jinsoul didn't know how to reply to that either.

“Thank you,” Jungeun said. “I,” she laughed, “I never thought I’d ever be in the ocean like. Ever.”

Jinsoul fought a smile. “I might’ve pushed you a bit too much.” 

“You did.” She nodded. “But I needed that.” 

“Needed what?” 

“A push,” Jungeun replied. “I was terrified, so I needed that.”

“Is that how you always respond to panic?” Jinsoul asked.

She raised a brow.

Was she going too far? “Going headfirst into the problem? Forcing yourself to go into it?” Jinsoul almost wished she could be quiet. Things were calm, properly calm. 

“It’s one way of doing it,” Jungeun shrugged, “and do you really think I would’ve managed any of that tonight?” She shook her head. “Because I really don’t. I thought I was just gonna stick to the beach, then be done with it.” 

She looked down at her hands. She listened for Jungeun’s heart only to find that it was still racing. 

“Would that’ve been better?” Jinsoul asked. 

Silence. 

She risked a glance up. Jungeun was looking back at the ocean. There wasn’t any hesitance in her eyes, only that strange awe she sometimes got. 

“No,” Jungeun said. “This was a lot better.” She turned her attention back to Jinsoul. “It wasn’t how I’d imagined it. It’s,” she trailed off. “It’s actually calm,” she laughed softly, “it’s just there. Like the sky almost. Except you can reach it. Explore it.” 

Jinsoul didn’t know what to say. Was Jungeun less afraid? Or still trying to reassure her? She’d been terrified at first, then again when the whale had come. 

“I mean that.” Jungeun was smiling again. It softened her features even more. “I can’t say I see it like you do yet, but I know a little bit more about why.” 

Jinsoul could only nod. “That’s good,” she said. “That’s really good.” 

She laughed again. “I think so too.” She fell back against the sand, a short breath leaving her. 

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.” Jungeun closed her eyes. “You can go back to wherever you need to. I actually think I might stay here. There’s no spirits around.” Her smile grew. “And I don’t think I’ll be a lure for them at the moment.” 

It took Jinsoul a few seconds to realise why. Jungeun wasn’t afraid. Not right now. She wasn’t angry either, or overcome by guilt either. 

“Thank you, Jinsoul,” she said. “And goodnight.” Then she laughed. “I still think it’s weird to say that.” 

“Are you really going to sleep on the beach?” Jinsoul asked. She didn’t move from where she was. 

“I’ll probably be sore.” A pause. “But I’m really comfortable at the moment.” 

“So am I,” Jinsoul replied. “I’ll stay here too.” 

Jungeun peeked out of one eye. 

“And I can wake you before you get a sunburn later today.” She leaned back on her arms. “Remember, I love being here.” 

“I know.” Jungeun opened her other eye. “But doesn’t your leg need to be elevated?”

“That reminds me.” Jinsoul summoned the water from the sea, leaving the salt behind. “Just lift your hands.” 

Disbelief flooded her expression. 

“This barely takes a few minutes,” Jinsoul said. “And is it still painful?”

“No?”

“Then don’t give me that look.” 

Jungeun narrowed her eyes slightly. 

Jinsoul just smiled back at her.

She didn’t miss how Jungeun’s eyes widened. 

“What?” 

“I,” she stammered. Her eyes lingered on . “I didn’t think I’d ever see that,” she murmured. 

“See what?”

Jungeun met her eyes. “You smiling.” She looked away. “At me.”

Jinsoul knew Jungeun didn’t mean to, but a pang of shame came to her anyway. 

She let moonlight seep into the water, before drawing out the healing rune. 

Jungeun’s eyes were on the water. They were tired, but she looked like she wanted to say something else. 

Jinsoul wasn’t sure if she could stand the night going on for any longer than it already was. 

“Goodnight, Jungeun.” She lightly squeezed her arm. “You should probably sleep.” 

“Night,” she murmured, yawning. “Thanks again.” 

“You said that twice.” 

“And I meant it both times.” Jungeun’s breathing was already slowing. Her expression relaxed. 

Jinsoul looked away, watching the waves drift up the shore before going back. 

Once she was sure Jungeun was asleep, she got up and walked back along the beach. She got to what they’d set up for the two of them. Another shared tent. 

Jinsoul ignored how one bed was very clearly used and took the other one’s blanket. She went back across the beach. No one was awake now, everyone sunk deep in their dreams. 

When she reached Jungeun, the fire elf had curled on her side. Jinsoul put the blanket over her. She brought some water into the sand beneath Jungeun, warming it slightly. 

Then she turned her attention back to the horizon. The moon had drifted further across the sky. In the distance, the sky was slowly turning a dark blue again. 

Jinsoul stayed where she was, listening to the ocean, feeling how the currents were going, which creatures were still nearby. 

Jungeun’s heartbeat stayed slow. She didn’t start to move around, or make any sounds other than a brief mumble here or there. There wasn’t a shift in the light around her either. 

The entire rest of the night, Jungeun didn’t have a nightmare. 

Even when the sun began to rise, Jungeun didn’t stir. 

Jinsoul checked again when the sun had nearly broke from the sea. 

Jungeun’s skin caught the sunlight as well. Her brow was smooth, hardly furrowed. She almost had a smile on her face. 

Jinsoul closed her eyes, trying to ignore whatever ache had been building itself in her chest. 

She focused instead on the ocean, letting her mind drift along with the endlessness of it. 

Then Jungeun stirred. 

Jinsoul looked over, almost regretting it when she did. 

The fire elf blinked slowly, squinting against the light. 

“Jinsoul?” She looked her way, still blinking. 

“Hi.” 

“It’s day?” Jungeun’s voice was almost a rasp. 

“Sunrise.”

“And you’re still here?” 

Jinsoul nodded. 

“Did you sleep?” She sat up, running a hand through her hair. Even her eyes were changed by the sunlight, glowing even though they’d been dimmed by sleep. 

“I’m nocturnal now, remember?” 

Jungeun gave a soft laugh. “Then it’s time for you to go to bed then.” Her hand rested on the blanket then. The water soaked into it. “Oops.” She started massaging her neck, wincing slightly. 

Jinsoul took the water away. 

“But really,” Jungeun propped her head on her elbow, “are you tired?”

She was. “Slowly.” She took the blanket from her. 

Jungeun frowned slightly. 

“This’s mine.” She pushed herself to her feet. “When’re we leaving?” 

She looked up at her, eyes finally adjusted to the sunlight. “You want to?” When Jinsoul nodded, she just shrugged. “Whenever you want,” she said. “Tonight, tomorrow—”

“We’ll go tonight then.” Jinsoul finally took a step back. “See you then, Jungeun.” She heard her response, but didn’t look back. 

She changed into night clothes that didn’t have any sand in them. 

Then she settled into the bed they’d set up. It was comfortable. The linen did nothing to keep the light out. She probably wouldn’t sleep long, but it’d be enough. 

When she closed her eyes, she realised two things. One, the blanket was warm, as if she’d hung it by a fire. Two, it smelled like the smoke from said fire. 

She dreamed of the sea that day. The depths were a deep blue, fading into darkness in the distance. 

And then there was a glow far to the side. It began small, but quickly grew, slowly coating the depths in a red glow. 

Jinsoul woke to the sun blinding her and a dull ache in her chest. Each time she blinked, she saw the same red light in her head. 

_____

Author's Note

So it's a very long chapter and it's also shortly before a time skip. I have very good news that Yerim will be coming to the story next chapter. It's about time too, but before then, I'd needed some things to happen. The main thing was actually this chapter. It might've actually been my favourite one to write yet in this story, partially because I'm fascinated by the ocean. I adore nature documentaries and the segments (or entire shows) on the oceans were always my favourite. It was nice to write from two differing perspectives on the sea as well. 

There's not much else I've got to say, except that I really hope you enjoyed this chapter as well in spite of the length. Would absolutely love to know what you thought of it! 

I hope you're all doing well. See you next chapter.