Note: trigger warning for the death of a parent, which comes in the latter part of the chapter after "Some years passed".

______

Going to her old home with both Jinsoul and Yerim was strange, to say the least. She wondered if the stares would almost them, because they were almost inevitable here. Everyone knew who they were. They would all wanted to know more too. 

“Want to camp outside or stay here?” she whispered. 

Yerim looked at the houses, brow furrowed. “Here,” a small smile, “I’ve been wanting to see this place for a while.” 

Jungeun looked to the other person beside her. 

Jinsoul only shook her head. “Before you ask, I’m happy staying here as well.” 

Jungeun smiled.

Once they reached the houses, the stares did come. There were warm greetings for the other two. 

Jungeun led them to the place they usually had. Hopefully there'd be a third bed for Yerim. 

When she pulled back the curtain, there was.  

“You two should sleep pretty soon,” Jungeun said, setting her bag down. 

“You’re not going to?” Jinsoul lifted a brow. 

“Have to tell them we’re not taking any contracts.” 

The corner of her lip tugged up. 

Jungeun realised then that she’d never been here and not taken a contract or two. 

“Then we’ll see you soon,” Jinsoul said, the light smile still there. Did she know? Her eyes didn’t give away much. 

Jungeun just nodded. “See you.” 

______

Yerim was asleep in a matter of minutes. Jinsoul took the slow start of quiet snores to tip-toe outside.

It was late afternoon and people walked between the small houses and tents amicably. There was always something happening here. Jinsoul wondered what it was to make so many of them so energised. Was it the restless energy that needed to be channeled somewhere? Or just the constant bustling from place to place? 

She took to walking around, nodding as people said hello to her. Some actually knew her name, even if she’d only briefly seen them over the years. 

Jinsoul walked by little shops that had the produce of nearby farms or other mortal merchants. That was where a lot of the money went. Either that or weapons, maybe metal. 

From what Jungeun had told her, there was actually a smith here who could shape metal to his will. Jinsoul had never met him, but she had seen someone whose clothes looked like they were made of thin sheets of metal. 

She walked into the forest then, towards the stream nearby. It was near a smaller clearing where the sun still shone, but she sat in the shade. The cold there didn’t bother her anymore. The warmth of the sun and the day were almost stranger. 

It wasn’t a surprise that she hadn’t seen Jungeun. She was either in the place where they held all their discussions, or somewhere else with her family. Either that, or she was with Reyna. 

Jinsoul pushed the thought from her head. It wasn’t really any of her business where Jungeun was. 

She leaned back against the tree instead, feeing her own fatigue coming again. Her head wasn’t hurting anymore. Drinking moonlight-infused water actually helped, but that pain had lasted longer than she'd thought it would. 

Nuala had been surprisingly open to the new method of healing. It’d been the most expressive she’d been, almost in awe as she drank the water. They hadn’t used it extensively, mostly because Jinsoul still needed to learn how to use the moonlight purely in its physical form. 

It wasn’t easy to use so much light and put in so much energy, but it was fascinating to see what else there was to learn. It was also exhausting. 

“Can I sit here?” There it was: a voice that sounded like velvet. She hadn’t heard her coming. Maybe she should’ve been more watchful. 

Jinsoul nodded. She looked up, but regretted it. The sun and blue sky framed Reyna perfectly within the afternoon. Her bright green eyes were also graced by the sunlight, glittering like the sea did on a summer day.

She couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Jungeun usually saw her. She’d seen how they looked at each other, how a lot of the tenderness hadn't really faded over the years, even if the amount of time Jungeun spent with Reyna had. Then again, that was another thing where Jinsoul had to stamp out her curiosity.

“Jungeun’s been worried,” Reyna said. “Still from years ago, when those witches told her there was an attack planned here.” She shook her head. “Nothing’s happened. We’ve asked whoever’s been able to scry and they see nothing.” 

“The future changes,” Jinsoul replied. She remembered when Jungeun had come back from that meeting. She also remembered how when Jungeun got scared, many others lost some of their confidence. It wasn’t hard to see how much people still looked up to her here. 

Jungeun hadn’t really said it, but a part of Jinsoul wondered if she hadn’t found some of that faith in her suffocating. There was a similar feeling when people looked to healers as the ones who could heal any ailment. They could with most. Not all of them. 

“Right,” Reyna chuckled, “you’ve got seers.”

“And I know you can’t just rely on them,” Jinsoul said. “Is there anyone where things are really strained? Or places where they could get complicated?”

“‘Course we have.” She frowned slightly. “And there’s always places we’re not loved. You know that better than I do.” 

It wasn’t said with malice, but there was still bite behind it. 

Jinsoul looked away, focusing instead on the sky. There were some clouds in the distance. She’d welcome the rain if it came. Jungeun didn’t like the rain much, but the flames she made didn’t get drowned out by it (of course, she’d trained for that too). 

“But Jungeun doesn’t get worried about someone attacking her,” Jinsoul said. “And she wouldn’t take a baseless threat here so seriously.” Even if it’d been years, Jungeun’s visits home had been frequent. They hadn’t really needed to stop here on their journey, but Jungeun had needed to. She still sent messages to check, while also asking Yeri to scry whenever she could. No matter how many times there’d been nothing, Jungeun still worried. 

Reyna laughed then. “She only ever worries about the rest.” There was a gust of warm air that circled them, before fading again. “You should’ve seen that by now. She’d try to melt a needle if it was thrown at us and ignore a sword sent at her back.” 

Jinsoul couldn’t help but wince at the thought. 

“You knew that,” Reyna nodded, “good.” It could’ve been condescending, but Jinsoul didn’t think it was. Reyna might’ve had a bit of a superiority complex, but there were many elves, including Astra and Arcsa, who shared that. “But you don’t know her like some of us do.” Like I do, was what the elf clearly wanted to say. 

She thought of what it would’ve been like to know Jungeun from the beginning. To know more of what’d happened to her, to have been there while it had happened—to see how she’d had to adjust to the role they’d given her. 

“I don’t.” Jinsoul shook her head. “And I’m glad.” 

Reyna frowned. 

There was so much Jinsoul wanted to say, but she held back. The last thing she wanted to do was risk insulting Reyna. She was still someone Jungeun very clearly loved and she’d stayed that for a reason. 

“Jungeun said she won’t take any other contract here,” Reyna said. She was looking at her, as if expecting her to react to that. “She’s never left this camp without something she’d have to do.”

Jinsoul bit back that ‘something she’d have to do’ almost always meant bloodshed. “She snuck out sometimes,” she said instead. 

“Even then.” A small smile appeared. “There’d be something she’d do. So that time away wasn’t lost.”

Jinsoul forced down the wave of revulsion that threatened to come then. The perspective was so skewed. Thea didn’t have that and neither did Jungeun. She knew there were others here like that, but Reyna wasn’t one of them. 

“But you really went to the south?” Reyna asked. “Just to go there?”

“Yerim wanted to see it,” Jinsoul said, the memory of Yerim’s enthusiasm making her smile. A few other memories also came to mind. “So did I.” 

She looked confused at that. “Just so you could see what it was like there?” 

Jinsoul just nodded. Would Jungeun have not done that before? With how open she was to exploring, to seeing whatever else the world had to offer, Jinsoul would’ve thought that’d have hardly been a surprise. 

“She used to tell me it was too dangerous,” Reyna said quietly. “That she couldn’t fight if we were attacked.” 

“Did she have the light then?” Jinsoul chose not to mention that being on the ice meant that both Jungeun and Yerim could be protected. Easily. 

“Good point.” She didn’t look so convinced. 

Jinsoul wanted to ask why she was here. The last time Reyna had really spoken to her was to see what had changed Jungeun, because she’d healed someone. Did she want to know if something had happened, because Jungeun had finally not taken up a new job on her visit here? Jinsoul was almost certain that Jungeun would take another on the way back, have them send something when she was at home again, or something like it. 

“What do you think of the contracts?” Reyna asked. “Honestly.”

It felt like a question she had to be careful with. 

“Sometimes we have to do them,” Jinsoul admitted. “But they don’t have to end in someone dying.”

“Like the blood elves?” Reyna’s brow rose. “The newborn vampires?” A pause. “Should I go on?” 

Jinsoul felt a knot in her stomach form. “Is it a problem if they're alive?” 

“No.” Reyna leaned back, still regarding her. “But it all happened with you. Including the healing.” 

“Because she saw how it could work,” Jinsoul said. “That it wasn’t something difficult.” That it was something she could do, she added in her head. 

She shrugged once. “I’m only saying this as someone who tried to change her,” she said. Her eyes hadn’t changed, but her voice had. “It’ll never work.” 

“Change her?” Jinsoul repeated. 

Reyna gave her a pointed look. “I know you how you felt about her at first.” 

Jinsoul held her gaze. 

“I wanted her to get better,” Reyna said. “The first times she fought, she changed.” Her gaze fell. “She used to laugh the loudest, you know. When things were hard, she wouldn’t pull away. She’d stay.” There was a small smile on her face, but it was sad. 

“She still laughs.” Jinsoul shook her head. “Maybe she changed, but she’s still strong enough to get through so much and come back.” 

“She won’t stop,” Reyna began, “I know you want her to, but that isn’t her.”

I wanted to stop from the beginning.

“I’ve never told her to stop,” Jinsoul retorted. Then it hit her. “I’m not trying to change her,” she said. “And I’m not saying she hasn’t changed, but any of that change was because of her. Not me.” 

Wasn’t it obvious? If Jungeun was stubborn enough not to let Reyna of all people push her to some sort of change, how was Jinsoul going to make a difference? She didn’t even want to. She wished she could’ve changed what’d happened to Jungeun before, but that past was sealed. 

Jungeun also hadn’t changed much from the day she’d met her. She was still open, patient, and determined to help, even if that idea of helping had been skewed over the years. 

“So you’re just accepting what she’s done?” Reyna asked. She was trying to find an answer for a question Jinsoul couldn’t figure out. 

“No,” she said. “Jungeun never did either.” 

“And you think that’s a good thing?” Reyna scoffed. “She can barely live with herself.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth.” Jinsoul turned to face her properly. “And she’s been living with herself this entire time. It hasn’t made her happy, but she still does.”

“You didn’t see her at her worst,” she said quietly. 

“I didn’t have to.” 

Reyna’s eyes narrowed when she looked up. 

“Just because you saw her break doesn’t mean she didn’t find those pieces again,” Jinsoul said. “None of that means she’s weak.” 

“I never said—”

“Everyone knows she’s one of the strongest of our kind,” Jinsoul continued. “But no one really knows how all of that affected her.” She wondered if she should even say the next part. She checked to see if anyone had followed to eavesdrop. No one had. “You think she’s broken.” And that you can fix her. Or she’d believed that once. Jinsoul still didn’t know which it was. 

Reyna pushed to her feet. 

She’d said the wrong thing, found a wound—something. 

“Broken or not,” Reyna swallowed once, “you come close to seeing those pieces and she’ll pull away.” Her gaze softened, but it revealed a deeper sadness than before. “She does that with everyone.” A pause. “Even me.”

When she left, there was only the careful stutter of the stream. 

______

“You look happier,” Thea said. 

Jungeun couldn’t help but look over at that. “I was happy before.” 

“Not really.” Her mother reached over and took her hand. “Your smile‘s stronger now.” 

She didn’t know what to say to that. She’d been happy before. Maybe only in waves, but she’d been happy. 

“I’m a little offended,” Jungeun muttered. 

She squeezed her hand. “All I meant was that the new state of things seems better than before,” she said. “Would Yerim and Jinsoul have anything to do with that?” 

Jungeun had to smile. “A lot,” she said. “Not being the only one,” she thought of how it’d been when things with Jinsoul had started to normalise, “that’s been one of the best things that’s happened since the light shifted.” 

Her mother’s eyes practically glowed then. It wasn’t something Jungeun was used to seeing. 

And then arms went around her, tightly gripping her. “I’m so glad the moon chose them then,” she whispered. 

Jungeun felt herself relax. “I am too.” Then she pulled away, looking up at her. “Any word from the witches?”

Thea’s expression didn’t falter. “Nothing, which's better than hearing from them.” She ran a hand through Jungeun’s hair. “Don’t start worrying about me.” 

“But—”

“There’s the chance that you could be hunted almost every day,” Thea said. “If you tell me not to be worried, then I can certainly say the same thing to you.” An edge of chastisement had crept into her voice and gaze. 

Jungeun smiled. 

“And you need to focus on enjoying your trips,” her mother went on. “Jinsoul’s also the ones keeping your colds from getting terrible, isn’t she?” 

Her face warmed at the thought. “Yes?”

“Well you’re not sick now, so that’s proof enough.” Thea laughed. “I’m glad I was right about her then.” 

Jungeun frowned at that. “Then?”

“Your father was ready to dismiss her completely,” Thea said. “So I’d gone around to see a bit more about who she actually was.” 

“Where’d you go?” Jungeun almost wished she was hearing things, not listening to her mother admitting she’d done research on Jinsoul. 

“Briefly to the sea where they were. I think I met her mother, if the resemblance I spotted was right.” Her smile grew. “And then I looked to some of the people she’d healed. Some healers can have quite the pride in them.” She shrugged. “And even though she has some of that, there’s more care than hubris there.” 

“A lot more,” Jungeun said. “And whatever you learned then, I think I probably know a good amount of it now.” She liked to think she knew Jinsoul enough after these years. Definitely not everything, but she didn’t need to know a lot of it. If she did, then it’d be Jinsoul who’d tell her. 

To an extent, that same logic applied to Yerim too. 

“Probably,” her mother echoed. There was a look that Jungeun wasn’t all that fond of. It was a combination of teasing and smugness that Thea tended to use when she was about to say ‘everything’ she knew. 

“I don’t need to hear it!” Jungeun quickened her pace a bit. She could feel her ears burning a bit more than before. 

Thea only laughed. That look was still there. 

Jungeun ignored it. 

______

Jinsoul always likened drinking to how it felt to be underwater. At least to people who didn’t feel at home under the surface. 

She felt disoriented, too light on her feet. 

“This’s strong,” Yerim said, looking at her glass. 

“Should I drink the rest?” Jinsoul asked. “You really don’t have to keep up with the others.” 

“Or you.” Yerim handed her the drink. “But I’d think there’s some magical reason why you can handle more than me.” 

“Or it’s age.” Jinsoul winked. “And practice.”

“I think Jungeun’s the one with practice.” Yerim snickered, looking over the others around them. “She’s been in at least two contests and I think they just gave her something stronger.”

She followed her gaze, only to want to look away again. 

Reyna lingered at Jungeun’s side, who was currently talking about something she couldn’t make out over the chorus of singing and conversation. Her hands moved wildly and her red eyes were bright in the fires around them. 

One of the things Jungeun was also looked to for was hanging flames in the sky, the colours ranging from yellow to red, and then blue or green. There was little heat from them too. 

They hadn’t faltered during dinner, nor when Jungeun had been dancing with her mother, laughter following both of them the entire time. They weren't showing any signs of fading now either. 

Then there was laughter from the group around the two. Reyna was grinning, leaning into Jungeun’s side as they both chuckled. They were telling a story of theirs. 

Jinsoul looked away. 

Yerim’s eyes were on her. “Can you sing?” 

Jinsoul blinked once. “Sing?” 

“Jungeun can,” she said. “She doesn’t really, but Pollux told me she does when she’s way in over her head, she’ll burst into either a folk song from those western islands, or some other thing.” She smiled. “But I’m not sure how far into the drink she has to go for that.”

“She hums sometimes,” Jinsoul replied. “I don’t recognise most of the melodies.”

“But the ones you do know,” Yerim lifted a brow, “you could sing them?”

She nudged her side. “Why the sudden interest in my voice?”

“Call it a feeling,” she said simply. “Hyunjin’s told me that the Astra sometimes just like to sing or a few learn a mortal instrument.” She pulled her to the side a bit. “My people did the same.” 

“So did we.” Jinsoul smiled. Even if it lacked the significance it seemed to have for a lot of mortals, music still had its place among most people, including fairies and elves. The Arcsa below the sea weren’t exempt from that, but those songs tended to be something you had to grow up with. “And yes, I can sing, including tunes that whales really like.” 

Yerim started laughing. “Does that include mating calls?”

Jinsoul gasped. “No!” She gently pushed her. “Learning anything like that’d be terrible.”

“You’re telling me no one’s done that before?”

“They have,” Jinsoul grimaced, “but it’s disrespectful.” 

Yerim looked at her for a long moment. Then she laughed again. “I’m sorry,” she grabbed her arm, “I’m really sorry—I know it’s serious, but,” she gasped, “you’re talking about mating calls.”

“Which’re important.”

She giggled, eyes glowing. “I know,” she said. “Doesn’t mean it’s not still hilarious.” 

Jinsoul sighed, but she took the hand holding her arm, squeezing it. 

Yerim leaned her head on her shoulder then. “Aren’t you tired?”

“It’s night time.” 

“But still,” she nudged her side, “you’ve been working.”

“It’ll probably come later,” Jinsoul replied. “Do you want to go to bed?” 

“I’ll find my way back,” Yerim said. “You should socialise.” 

"I'm social." She frowned at her. “Why, do you think I'm not?” 

“Well," Yerim shrugged, "a lot of people’ve been looking over at you." She patted her arm. "And I think that even after a few years, you probably don’t know their names.”

I never needed to, Jinsoul thought as Yerim weaved through the people, disappearing from view. 

It hadn’t rained. Jinsoul would have to ask Jungeun if there was someone who could control the weather, or some part of it. She wondered if that same person would’ve tried to keep the rain and snow away for Jungeun. 

Probably not, if Jungeun was stubborn enough to fight when her breathing started getting difficult. 

Jinsoul didn’t look to see where Jungeun was, or anyone else. 

She started doing something she hadn’t done in a very long time: small talk. 

There was a shorter elf named Hitomi, but once she started talking, you knew she wasn’t nearly as young as she looked. 

“After all this time, it feels weird to say,” Hitomi began, “but I still miss her being around.” She sighed. “I mean, you know how she is.”

Jinsoul just nodded. 

“She can be the life of a night like this when she wants to,” Hitomi waved at the sky, “I mean, who else do you know can do this without even thinking much of it?”

“Was it another training session?” Jinsoul asked. 

“Not this time!” Hitomi grinned. “But we made it a challenge. Each of us would have to use our magic somehow, then we’d see how distracted we could get, or,” she lifted her drink up, “you know—and whoever failed first had to finish their drink, then run to get more. Sometimes into the next town.” 

“So she can do this,” Jinsoul looked at the many flames above them, “because of a drinking game.”

“It was the best kind of training! No one got hurt.” A pause. “Usually.”

Jinsoul laughed. “We had something similar, only ours was to see how close we could get to the Arcsan towns below the surface.”

Hitomi’s brow shot up. “And how’d you know if it worked?”

“We shaved off a bit of fluorescent pearl,” Jinsoul said. “If you got caught, they launched you out of the ocean.” 

She laughed. “Sounds embarrassing.” 

“It was,” Jinsoul admitted. “But nothing compared to when they started sending the creatures after us.” 

Hitomi’s eyes widened. “And that sounds terrifying.” 

“Jungeun thought that too.”

She smiled then. “Oh yeah, and you showed her a whale, didn’t you?” 

Jinsoul felt taken aback for a second. She nodded. 

“She’s actually loves going to the ocean now, you know,” Hitomi said. The excitement in her voice was like Yerim’s when she was passionate about something. “When she was with us, you’d have had to tie her up to get her anywhere close.” She laughed once. “I’m serious! She told us to drag her over, but she ended up burning the ropes off.” 

Jinsoul remembered the fear in Jungeun’s eyes that night. 

“But you got her there,” Hitomi’s laugh was a bit softer now, “in the water.” 

Briefly, Jinsoul wondered why Reyna had never mentioned that. She must’ve heard about it. Wasn’t she closer to Jungeun than Hitomi was? 

“And Antarctica too.” 

“She talked about the lights in the sky,” Jinsoul said. “We both wanted to see it.”

“It wasn’t some kind of challenge?” Hitomi asked, her smile fading. “None of you were trying to test your limits? And Jungeun wasn’t testing out how she could handle ice water?”

“Freezing waters would be way too dangerous,” she said immediately. “Even if she’d wanted to try it, there’s no way we would’ve let that happen.” Luckily, the thought hadn’t seemed to cross Jungeun’s mind. 

Hitomi brightened then. “So it was just a little outing then?” 

Jinsoul fought the urge to frown. “Yeah?”

“Good,” Hitomi said. “That’s really good.” 

She didn’t hide her confusion this time. 

Hitomi chuckled. “Jungeun’s never really gone somewhere without the added bonus of learning something from it, or,” she glanced around, “temporarily exiling herself.” She looked back at her. “The rest was to get training from whoever’d give her some, or push some limits you don’t need pushing.” 

Jinsoul couldn’t help but be surprised. She hadn’t expected this kind of an attitude. Not from someone who seemed to have gone along with some of the fighting herself. “Is this really the first time she’s come here without taking a contract?”

She nodded. “I mean, she will next time, but it’s still a first.” Then she took a sip of her drink. “But I have to say, I’m not exactly surprised?”

Jinsoul stared at her. “You’re not?” How could Hitomi act so nonchalantly when Reyna was acting as if it was a massive change?

“Jungeun’s never said a bad word about you,” Hitomi said, smiling. “I think all your best traits rubbed off on her.” Then she laughed, but it was only for a second. “Don’t look like that. You spent more than a decade with her.” She patted her arm. “I bet you got something from her too.” With a final wink, she said goodbye and went over to a few others. 

Jinsoul watched as the celebrations went on, with varying degrees of refinement left. It was always like that. Jinsoul almost wished there could be some sort of game that she could see happening. She’d go join it, no matter who else was there. 

But she was also tired. The walking had been long and she still hadn’t completely worn off the fatigue that’d come from the healing. 

Jinsoul closed her eyes, looking for the stream in the distance. She drew some water from it. She made sure to make it rise into the air so that no one would be struck by it. 

And then a flame fizzled out as the water sank to rest in the space in front of her. She didn’t look around to see if someone had seen it. They knew what her abilities were. 

Jinsoul drank from it, the coolness of it soothing. It also gave her a bit more clarity. It also took away a bit of the tiredness. 

Someone was walking over. She recognised their steps and relaxed slightly. She didn’t want to go through any more ‘small talk’. 

“Soul? Everything alright?” Jungeun was smiling, but concern quickly appeared in her eyes. When she wanted to, she could show every little emotion through her expression. 

Jinsoul forced herself to look away. “I’m fine.”

Jungeun held out a hand. “Should we go to the river? A pond? Whatever we find first?” 

Her heart warmed at the thought. “I’m fine,” she repeated, patting her arm once. “It’s been a long time since I’ve tried celebrating for no reason.” She looked to Jungeun’s side or behind her, but she didn’t see anyone. “Where’s Reyna?”

Jungeun’s brow furrowed. “Somewhere?” Then she looked up. “You took out a fireball.” She waved at the sky. “Are they getting too hot?”

“No,” Jinsoul said. “I just can’t aim.”

She laughed softly. “I’ve seen you aim perfectly fine.” 

“Not when I’m tipsy.” 

“You’re tipsy?” Jungeun asked. “You don’t look it.”

“Neither do you.” 

“I’ve got a good tolerance,” she replied, “something about being able to digest the alcohol fast?” She looked at Jinsoul as if she’d know the answer. 

“I think that’s outside of what I know,” Jinsoul said. “But if you feel fine, then you can handle a lot more than I can.” 

Jungeun was quiet for a few seconds. “Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere else?” She didn’t look worried, but there was something close to it. 

“Maybe back to bed,” Jinsoul chuckled, “I had a burst of energy, but now it’s gone.” 

Jungeun smiled then. “Can I walk with you then?” 

She nodded, before she started walking. 

“I’ve heard you sing?” Jinsoul narrowly avoided someone stumbling into her path. He gave her an energetic apology and a broad grin in Jungeun’s direction, joined with a wink.  

“He’s got a terrible tolerance,” Jungeun whispered, leaning over. “But he turns into a surprisingly affectionate person at parties.” 

“Including with you?” Jinsoul wondered if there was more to that. Some of those here looked at Jungeun with nothing short of desire. There was little wonder why, but Jinsoul couldn’t help but wonder if they’d been close enough to fulfil that. 

“Once—wait actually twice.” She chuckled slightly. “But that was a long time ago.” She grimaced. “And we were both pretty inexperienced the first time.”

Jinsoul didn’t know what to say to that. At all. 

“Too much information, isn’t it?” Jungeun laughed again. It wasn’t the loud one, but it was on its way there. 

Jinsoul felt a few more eyes on them then. They went to Jungeun first, then Jinsoul. 

Jungeun didn’t really say much more after that. She only commented quietly on the most intoxicated of revellers, telling her which to watch out for when the wine or soju came into the mix, as well as those who’d make for the best of company, mostly because they had the best of stories. 

Jinsoul noted that most of those people tended to either be venders she’d seen before, or people with a specific craft. Almost none of the people Jungeun spoke extremely highly of were the warriors. Those were easier to pick out, either through their build, clothes, or the weapons they still had strapped to them. 

She also spotted a blade on Jungeun’s ankle. The only weapon she had, but even she still felt like she had to have one with her. Even if her flames and the moonlight was more than enough. 

Was that paranoia? Habit? Or something else?

“How is it?” Jungeun asked. “Being here.” She waved at the houses. “It’s a lot more like an actual town than a camp.”

“I like it,” Jinsoul admitted. “The way there’s things that’re almost shops is nice.” 

There was a smile on Jungeun’s face. It looked proud, before a hint of hesitance came. “And the part where everyone’s staring at you? Are they asking you a lot too?”

“Too?” Jinsoul repeated. 

“I get asked about you, now Yerim too, all the time,” she said. “It’s almost worse than the Astra.” 

“Almost,” Jinsoul laughed, “as long as we don’t get the questions, it’s fine isn’t it?” She nudged Jungeun’s side. 

Jungeun was still smiling. “You don’t even know what I tell them.” 

Hitomi’s words came back to her, as well as Thea’s. Even if they’d both known how Jinsoul had treated her at first. “I have an idea.” 

Jungeun’s eyes went to the ground then. 

Jinsoul looked back, only to see that the flames were still in place. “And you can really leave those up without dwelling on it?”

“More or less,” Jungeun said, turning around as well. She looked a bit relieved at the change of subject. “It’s like keeping the fire from burning. It’s both a reflex, and something else in my magic I couldn’t really explain.” 

She had to smile at that. “So we’ll leave it at that?”

Jungeun returned it. “We will.” Then she straightened slightly. “Did Yerim go sleep?”

“Yep,” Jinsoul said. “And I think I’ll be joining her soon.” She started walking in the direction. “I know the way too, so you can go back. I think Reyna’s waiting for you.” 

“Reyna?” Jungeun repeated. She was still walking with her. 

Jinsoul nearly turned away then. She wasn’t drunk, but she was saying too much too easily. 

“Did she say something to you?” A small frown appeared. 

The words brought a wave of everything Reyna had said, of the sadness she’d seen in her eyes too. There‘d also been a distinct longing there. 

“No,” Jinsoul said. 

Jungeun looked even more confused. 

“It’s nothing to worry about,” she told her. “Goodnight, Jungeun.” She turned away. 

“Wait,” Jungeun caught her hand, “is something wrong?” They both came to a stop. “Did I do something?” There was already too much uncertainty there, as if she'd expected it. 

Something in her chest twisted. “Nothing,” Jinsoul promised. 

“Really.” Her brow furrowed. “You can tell me.” 

“And I would,” Jinsoul told her. 

Jungeun chuckled then. “Right.” 

“But I’m not sure if there’ll be a lot of that. Not anymore.” 

Jungeun’s eyes went wide. 

Jinsoul smiled. “I meant that too.” 

The corners of her lip slowly rose. 

It was a beautiful smile, a lot gentler than normal.

I didn’t think I’d ever see that.

Jinsoul felt a pang of guilt then. Reyna had put so much weight on the idea that Jungeun had changed the most in these last years when it’d been Jinsoul. 

You smiling at me. 

When they’d met, Jungeun had been patient. She’d never snapped when Jinsoul had thrown biting words her way, but that didn’t meant they hadn’t hurt. 

“Jinsoul?” Jungeun’s voice drew her from her thoughts. “You’re tireder then I thought.” She was still smiling. “Or were you thinking about something?” 

Jinsoul wondered if she was supposed to say it, or if that was something Jungeun even wanted to hear. 

Jungeun was looking at her, brow already starting to furrow. In moments like these, she barely hid what she was thinking. 

“You’re one of the strongest people I know,” Jinsoul said. 

Surprise filled her expression. Then she laughed. “There’s a reason for that,” she said. “Training—a lot of it—magic, it’s all—”

“I didn’t mean that,” she cut her off.

Jungeun looked confused, most likely thinking this was just what Jinsoul mumbled about when she’d drunk something. 

“I meant here.” Jinsoul lifted a hand to Jungeun’s face, letting her fingers lightly trace her temple. 

Jungeun’s eyes had widened again, but she wasn’t pulling away. 

“I wish you didn’t have to be.” Jinsoul brushed a thumb over her skin. It was warm to the touch. “But you are.”

Jungeun was still looking at her, eyes their bright red, full of fire. They were still open, giving away the confusion, but also the warmth they so often held. 

Underneath the night sky, away from the canopy of flames, this was the Jungeun she’d come to know through walks in the forest and nights spent beside the beach. This was the Jungeun she’d seen on the ice. 

“I’m not sure if that’s strength,” Jungeun said quietly. “It’s time.” 

Jinsoul moved some hair away from her face.  She felt Jungeun lean into her hand. 

She felt the flicker of an ache return. She took a deep breath. “There was something that helped you get through that time.” 

Jungeun looked at her for a long moment. Her eyes had softened to something Jinsoul should’ve been able to read, but she couldn’t. 

“Why’re you saying that?” 

Many reasons came to mind. Jinsoul didn’t let most come to mind. “I wanted you to know.” 

“Know what?” Jungeun was searching her eyes.

You’re not broken. You’re a good person. 

“That you’re someone I respect,” Jinsoul said. “A lot more than even some of the people I’ve known longer, or should look up to.” 

She was still looking at her, stunned. Normally, Jungeun would’ve looked away at this point. Why wasn’t she? 

“You mean that?” Jungeun asked, her voice hushed. 

“You don’t think I do?” 

“I believe you,” Jungeun said. “But,” she trailed off. 

Jinsoul reached for Jungeun’s hand then. “If it’s any help, from where I’m standing, it’s not that surprising.” 

Her eyes fell to their hands. The confusion was still there, but something else in her expression thawed even further. 

The ache in her chest strengthened. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t something she could just ignore. She swallowed once, wondering if that would displace it. 

Jungeun looked up then. Her eyes were shining. “It is for me.”

Jinsoul squeezed her hand. I know, she thought. “Goodnight, Jungeun.” The ache subsided a bit then. 

Her lip twitched upwards at that. “Sleep well.” 

Jinsoul almost didn’t want to let go, but she did. The dull pressure in her chest remained.

______

“You should’ve told me I was being stupid,” Jinsoul growled. She wiped away the next wave of sweat, drawing out the water first, before leaving whatever was left to fall to the ground. She put it back on her skin and cooled it. "This heat was what inspired the mortals' view of hell." 

“I didn’t think it was stupid,” Jungeun replied. She was smiling brightly, holding out a waterskin for Yerim. She was carrying several in her pack. We have to be prepared. 

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Yerim muttered. “This’s comfy for you.” She drank from her skin as well. 

“But my skin does feel a bit itchy.”

Yerim and Jinsoul both exchanged a look. Then they pushed her to the ground, tickling her sides. 

Jungeun’s laughter was loud and unrestrained. Even with the unrelenting heat, Jinsoul managed a smile. 

Yerim stood, complaining that the sand was too hot on her knees, before she had a long drink of water. Jinsoul stayed at Jungeun’s side, sprinkling sand into her hair. 

“This wasn’t my idea,” Jungeun said. “I’d just like to make that clear.” 

Jinsoul pulled her back up. “You should’ve warned me a bit better.” 

“It’s a desert!” Jungeun waved a hand. “Almost no water unless it’s in the plants.” She cocked a brow. “What kind of warning did you need?”

“Your type of thinking is something I should never have.” She looked out at the wide expanses of sand. It was almost like the ocean in that it didn’t seem to have an end. Even though her feet weren’t burning anymore, she knew that the sand was boiling to the touch. It was also endless. She wondered how people without their abilities managed, or if they did at all. She had a newfound respect for any mortal who managed to survive this. 

Jungeun had taken most of the heat away from their path, but she hadn’t cooled the air. A part of Jinsoul wondered if she was trying to get them used to it. 

“Your hair’s still down.”

“What?” Jinsoul frowned at her. 

Jungeun was looking at the top of her head. “Here.” She grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. “Can I put it up?” She moved some lengths of hair back over her shoulders. 

Jinsoul fought a shiver when Jungeun’s fingers brushed her neck. “Sure.”

She gathered her hair up. Jinsoul heard a brief tearing sound, before her hair was gathered at the top of her head. 

“Better?” Jungeun was missing a part of her sleeve. 

“Not sure yet.” 

“You look it.” Jungeun patted her arm once, before picking up her pack. “Let’s keep going? There might be fresh water in a few hours. I think I remember there being a stream, unless it’s dried out.” 

“Don’t even joke about that,” Yerim gave her a sharp look, “not all of us have endless patience.” She looked to Jinsoul. “You’re taking the lead, so please look for it.” 

Jinsoul grimaced. “Jungeun was right this time. It’s a few hours that way.”

Yerim groaned, while Jungeun grinned. 

______

The desert was cold at night. Freezing almost. 

Jungeun didn’t know what made that cold different from what was in the north, but her fire burned as brightly as it did normally, if not a bit more. 

She let the flames dance in the air, changing the colour of some portions, before guiding the sparks higher into the night sky. Except for the wind and the crackling fire, there was almost complete silence here. 

Jinsoul and Yerim’s light breathing was also there, but it was a reminder that she hadn’t come here alone. That wasn’t normal for her. All of the places she’d gone, whether it be loud or silent, cold or freezing, beautiful or terrifying, she’d been alone. 

And two people were with her now. 

“Why’re you still awake?” Jinsoul’s voice sounded groggy. “We’re walking all day tomorrow.” 

“I’m not tired,” Jungeun replied. “Might be the desert.”

“We were on an ice cap and I was still tired,” Jinsoul said, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “And we’ve been by the ocean a few times, and I slept by it too.”

“Maybe it’s the heat?” She shrugged. “I always took a little while to sleep after a day in the sun.”

“I guess you’re right.” Jinsoul had moved to sit at her side now. “I always feel energised after I’ve been in the water.” 

Jungeun hummed once. She kept her eyes on the rolling hills of sand. 

Jinsoul’s words were still in her head. 

You’re one of the strongest people I know. 

It’d been said with so much conviction. Denying it had almost been difficult, even if she didn’t believe the words themselves. 

“It’s beautiful here too,” Jinsoul said. “Quiet.” 

“That’s one of the reasons I love it,” Jungeun replied. 

“And the rest?” She’d turned her head. 

Jungeun almost did too, but she didn’t know if she’d look away again. 

The moon illuminated the sands, making them grey mixed in blue, so very different to the varying shades of yellow and gold during the day. 

“It looks endless,” Jungeun said. “I could go anywhere and still feel like I’m in the middle of it.” 

“And if you get lost?” 

“All the better.” 

Jinsoul shifted again and Jungeun knew she had to look now. 

Jinsoul’s eyes were slowly glittering, as if even the light within them was tired. “You’d want to get lost in a desert?”

Jungeun smiled. “I can survive a lot longer in the heat than I can the cold.” 

She huffed softly. “Right, the heat’s comfortable for you.” 

“That,” Jungeun started, “and I just like it here.” 

Jinsoul smiled slightly. Without moonlight, Jinsoul's skin had a slight blue sheen like the desert did. “What’s your favourite part?”

“There’s pretty much only sand and the sky,” Jungeun said. “I can see just about everything, even if it’s leagues away, and there’s almost never a cloud in sight.” 

“You really don’t like the rain, do you?” She looked like she was close to laughing. 

“It’s uncomfortable.”

“Sweating is uncomfortable too,” Jinsoul said. “And you’re fine with that.”

“That’s different,” Jungeun chuckled, “sweat cools you off a little. Rain skips straight over that to being cold.”

“So when there’s a storm?” 

“I hate them.”

Jinsoul’s smile grew. “And summer rains?”

“They’re nice.” 

A soft laugh. 

“So you like the rain,” Jinsoul said, her eyes still sparkling. “You just don’t like being cold.” 

“Not many do, I don’t think.”

“But I like wearing warm clothes, drinking hot drinks.” She laughed again. “Sitting by a fire.” Jinsoul’s arm brushed hers. 

Jungeun wished she wasn’t so aware of it, but she was. 

“And when it’s warm, I like going swimming.” 

“You swim all year round,” Jungeun said. 

“But I make the water warmer,” Jinsoul countered. “I don’t really like being cold either.” Then she looked at the desert. 

Jungeun felt slightly disappointed that she’d looked away first. 

“Do you like it like this?” Jinsoul asked. “At night, when it’s cold?”

“I do,” Jungeun said. “I like the stars.” 

“And the moon?” 

Jungeun laughed. “That’s a given, isn’t it?”

“Doesn’t always have to be.” 

Jungeun could only nod. She’d known a few people who’d almost hated their element. She had in the beginning too. 

Like many things, you learned to either accept it, love it, or simply cherish it. She’d known a lightning wielder who’d said she simply respected the magic. She’d never talked about controlling it, which was where Jungeun had disagreed with her. Still, it’d helped to come to terms with her magic by simply learning to respect it. 

There was a small nudge to her side. “Want me to take over watch now?” 

Jungeun pushed back. “I’m not tired enough to sleep yet.” 

“What about relaxing?” 

“I’m very relaxed,” Jungeun said. “I think that’s actually why I’m not sleeping.” 

Jinsoul looked at her then. “Because you’re relaxed?” Confusion flickered across her features.

“If I’m asleep, I miss that feeling.” 

It was quiet for a few seconds. Jungeun was used to those silences by now. 

Jinsoul’s eyes were going from the sand, to the sky, to Jungeun, and back to the sand. Her brow had furrowed, but now it slowly relaxed again. Then she nodded. 

“Do you like healing for the Astra?” Jungeun asked. She wanted to ask about the headaches, but she held back from that. 

Her brow arched up. “Most of the time,” she tilted her head, still thinking, “it’s like my life before, but also not really.” 

“Is it because of the light?” 

“It’s because I’m not the lead healer,” Jinsoul said. “They turn to Nuala when there’s a problem, and I’m still learning from her.” She smiled. “It’s nice.”

Jungeun wondered what sort of responsibilities Jinsoul had had in the past. Everything she’d have needed to be aware of and account for. She knew of some of it, but mostly just the different feats of Jinsoul’s. They’d talked about some of it, but only briefly. 

“And I have the time to be away like this,” Jinsoul continued. “Be somewhere I don’t have to think about what I’ll come back to.” 

“Did they not let you go before?” 

“They did.” Jinsoul pursed her lips. “I didn’t.”

It took her a little too long to understand what that meant. Then she did. It made sense too. Jinsoul wouldn’t have wanted to go somewhere else, because she’d have been too worried that someone would need her. 

“And now you do?” Jungeun asked. 

She nodded. “Nuala was also pushing me to take a break,” she chuckled, “she barely does that herself, but she can make everyone else do it.” 

Jungeun felt herself start to smile. “Is that what you did too?”

Jinsoul shrugged. “Sort of, but most of our breaks just included swimming.” She looked around the desert then. “And that was always energising.” 

She watched as the fatigue came over Jinsoul's expression again, but only slightly. 

“Should we go to the ocean more then?” 

Jinsoul looked up then, a small furrow appearing in her brow. “You want to?” 

Jungeun smiled. “Remember, I like it there now.” She didn’t mention that it was mostly only that way when Jinsoul was there. “So we can go whenever.” 

The corners of her lips tilted up. It was an expression Jungeun loved to watch grow. Even with the years that’d passed, it still felt like a surprise when Jinsoul smiled at her. 

“Do you still get sick on ships?” Jinsoul asked then.

Jungeun could barely hide her surprise. She'd only told Jinsoul about her seasickness once before. “I don’t think so? Haven’t been on one in a while.” Then she laughed slightly. “Planning a boat ride?” 

Jinsoul shrugged. “Maybe. There’re elixirs against seasickness, so maybe I can give those to you and Yerim.”

“You’d want us on a ship?” 

“It’d be nice to go from harbour to harbour, wouldn’t it?” Jinsoul asked. Then she laughed. “But I also just want to be surrounded by water for a few days instead of sand.” 

“Is it that bad?” Jungeun looked out at the desert. There was so little water. Of course it would’ve been uncomfortable. 

Then a hand took hers, squeezing it. 

“I'm having fun,” Jinsoul said. “Especially once the sun started to set.” She smiled again. “And you did make it bearable.” She looked Yerim’s way as well and her gaze softened. “I think she loves it here too. She enjoyed both trips.” She looked back to Jungeun. “They were both good ideas, going there and then here.”

“Travelling was your idea,” Jungeun replied. “With just the three of us.” 

She nodded once. “I like it that way.” Her gaze drifted to the sky then. “I think we make a good team.” The light in her eyes was a bit brighter. 

Jungeun found herself staring. 

“Is it strange for me to think like that?” Jinsoul asked. “Yerim hasn’t been here long, but it doesn’t feel like that.” 

Jungeun felt something in her chest flip then. “It’s not strange,” she said. “It feels like that for me too.” It felt like that with you, she added silently. 

She hummed once. Then she looked down at their hands. 

Jungeun felt a small weight in her chest then. It wasn’t uncomfortable.

“You know,” Jinsoul started. “time’s been moving a lot slower for me since I came here.”

Was that a good thing? Jungeun had never thought time dragged on longer than it was supposed to at the camp, but was it because she enjoyed that aspect of it? Did Jinsoul? Or was it something she didn’t like? 

“It always feels like every passing hour is something different,” Jinsoul continued, “and I don’t really know why.”

“And do you like that?” Jungeun asked. Even with how Jinsoul said it, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something that was wrong with that for her. Jinsoul had gotten a bit lost with the healing, but she’d still spent so much of her life doing it. 

Jinsoul looked out ahead of them for a few seconds. “That’s a good thing, Jungeun,” she nodded, “living for an eternity doesn’t mean nothing changes. It shouldn’t mean that.” She was quite then. 

What was she supposed to say to that? As ‘normal’ as immortality was to consider, that didn’t mean it was easy to talk about. 

“What’s different?” Jungeun asked. 

“I feel like a lot of it was always changing before too,” Jinsoul said. “But I’m more aware of it now.” She frowned slightly, before that faded. “I think it’s because I keep learning something? Either about magic, the way the Astra do things, or,” she pursed her lips, “you.” 

“Me?” Jungeun repeated. “What’s there still to learn?”

“I think I lot,” she replied. “Like how you love the desert,” a small smile appeared, “or that you know a lot about the mortals’ belief systems.” 

“I don’t know that much,” she shook her head, “there’s a lot more than just how they see death.” 

Jinsoul shrugged. “You still know more than I do.” Then she leaned her shoulder against Jungeun’s. “But I mean other things like that,” she said quietly. “We’ve both lived for a while. There’ll be a lot to tell.”

I don’t know if you want to hear all of that, Jungeun wanted to say, but it didn’t feel like the right time, let alone place, to say anything like that. 

“But we’ve got time for that,” Jinsoul said. “Right?” 

Jungeun could only nod. 

Neither of them said anything after that. 

They just sat there, watching as the moon drifted across and the sky gradually got lighter again. Jungeun hadn’t ever expected Jinsoul to be at her side to watch the sun rise above the desert, but she was. 

They still didn’t talk much, but that was fine. Neither of them let go of the other either. 

______

Some years passed. It might’ve been five, or it might’ve been six, Jinsoul still wasn’t sure. 

Except there was a growing sense of unease in the air. Jungeun kept going off somewhere. She usually did that alone, leaving Jinsoul and Yerim to wonder where she was until she came back to explain. Either she ended up going to Yeri, another witch, or back to her people. 

She didn’t really hide her worry. It also wasn’t hard to figure out what the rest of that meant. 

And because her worry kept growing, it also meant that whatever the problem she was trying to fix wasn’t improving either. 

Jinsoul knew it had something to do with what those witches had said. When she’d asked her, Jungeun had deflected, saying it probably wasn’t anything serious. 

And then a few months later, she’d be going off again, or writing out a note to send to her people. 

Only tonight, they sent a message first. It came from the fire, bursting out of it. 

Jungeun reached forward and caught it immediately. 

Jinsoul saw the moment she finished reading. The paper was once again engulfed in flames. Jungeun’s hands were completely still, but her eyes were wide. She looked from the fire to the ashes of the message. 

Then she was on her feet and walking off. 

Jinsoul followed with Yerim close behind. 

And then they heard shouting. 

“You told me nothing would happen!” Jungeun’s voice was harsh. “You saw nothing.” 

Jinsoul could feel the air warming. Then she saw how Jungeun’s skin glowed and how her eyes burned. 

“There wasn’t a sign of it,” one of the seers said. She looked scared. “I promise—“

“You weren’t looking,” Jungeun hissed. “But now you’ll tell me where I’m going. Now.” 

“Your people,” the seer told her, taking a step back.

“You’re lying.” Jungeun’s voice was quieter, but there was anger in her eyes. “Tell me where I’m going.” 

“You’re going to your family,” Eline said. 

Jungeun didn’t react, but the air grew warmer again. “Where am I going?”

Eline’s voice softened. “They’ll send you where you need to go.” 

It was quiet. 

Fire flickered across Jungeun’s skin, but her hands were still.

Then they vanished and Jungeun was walking away. 

“What happened?” Yerim asked, her voice tight. 

“Her mother.” Eline was watching where Jungeun had gone. “She’s dead.” Her eyes were dim, as she looked to the sky. “And we didn’t see it.” 

Jinsoul was running then. She went straight for their tent. 

When she went in, the air almost burned her. The heat subsided the moment she saw Jungeun. 

“Sorry,” Jungeun said. She was fastening a blade to her waist. 

“Jungeun,” Jinsoul started.

“Maybe she’s just close to it,” she said then. “I’ll get there, and maybe we can still find her.” She then slung her bag over her shoulder. 

Yerim came was at her side then. “Can we come with?” 

Jungeun shook her head. “I’ll be quicker by myself.”

“But—“ 

Jinsoul took Yerim’s arm, squeezing it, before letting it go. 

Yerim’s eyes were slowly filling with tears. 

“The message said she disappeared,” Jungeun said then. “The seers think she’s dead.” Her jaw was tight. “But they didn’t see what was happening before.” She walked past them. 

Jinsoul caught her hand. Jungeun’s skin was burning. She let go. 

“I have to go.” Jungeun didn’t look either of them in the eye. 

“When’re you coming back?” Yerim asked. 

Jungeun’s expression faltered. 

Jinsoul’s heart sank. 

“I’ll try to come back as soon as I can.” Then she was gone. 

______

“You’re going too?” Yerim asked. She’d let her tears fall freely this time. 

“I have to.” Jinsoul checked if the pack was full. “Thea vanished, but who caused it? If she’s dead, someone killed her.” And Jungeun would go after them. 

“But she won’t want us there.” 

“Then we’ll stay away,” Jinsoul said. “We—I just have to be there. In case she does.” 

Yerim looked at her. “Are you sure?” 

“No,” she admitted. She gathered her things and started to leave. “Do you want to come with me?” 

There was a flicker of hesitance, before Yerim shook her head. “I shouldn’t.”

“Neither should I,” Jinsoul said. “Probably.” 

“You’re right!” someone called from outside. Sooyoung. 

Jinsoul went out. 

“She has to do this alone,” Sooyoung said when she saw her. “And you can’t stop her either.”

“I won’t,” Jinsoul told them. “But she might need help after.” She opened her pack and showed them the contents. 

Haseul frowned. “You can’t put her back together.”

“I know,” Jinsoul said. “And that’s not why I’m going.” She closed the bag again. “If she doesn’t want me to heal her, then I won’t.” She met their gazes. “And I’ll leave if she doesn’t want me there.”

“You don’t think we’d want to go as well?” Sooyoung asked. 

“Then go instead of me,” Jinsoul told them. “I don’t think she should come back from wherever she’s going alone.” She grimaced. “She’ll have her father and the rest of her people before there, but when—if she’s coming back to camp after that, she’ll be coming back alone.” 

Several excuses came to mind then. What if someone decided to come after her then once she was drained by her grief? Or what if a larger group of spirits came, drawn to the grief and anger she was feeling? What if she got hurt? 

“Do you really think it’d be a mistake to go?” Jinsoul asked. “Because then I won’t.” 

There were a few moments where no one said anything. It made Jinsoul beyond nervous. 

“You’re just going to help her,” Jiwoo said then. “Just that.”

“If she wants my help.” Jinsoul nodded. There was a good chance Jungeun would just tell her to leave. She’d have to listen if she did. 

Jiwoo exchanged a look with Sooyoung then. She looked reassuring, even though there was clearly pain in her eyes. All of them had it. Jinsoul wondered if they were right for not following Jungeun. Maybe they’d focus on being there when Jungeun came back. Was Jinsoul supposed to do that too?

“Go,” Haseul said. “And if Daran also lets you stay, then you’re good.” 

Then Sooyoung fixed her with a look. “But you know what you could be walking into?”

Jinsoul didn’t, but that didn’t matter. 

At least she hoped it wouldn’t. 

______

Jinsoul didn’t need to search for the place. She could feel it the moment she entered the forest. The feeling, one twisted and cold, didn’t leave the forest. Somehow, whatever magic lay within the woods could hold it back. 

Still, Jinsoul felt a deep sense of revulsion. It grew with each step she took. They'd told her that Thea had vanished, but her body had been sent back. Some thought Jungeun had found it and gone through the ritual to send her back home. Pollux had told her that it was an act of revenge from a group of elves. Whatever Thea had done, or been involved with, that'd been years ago. 

Around the time of when Jungeun had been warned by the witches. 

After an hour of walking, Jinsoul started to smell it. The heavy scent of ash, the metallic edge of blood, and burnt flesh. Underneath it all was a distinct sense of death, something she hadn’t felt for a long time. 

It was worse when she looked to the light. She could see the way the forest had taken in the rage and the fear. She could see how death seeped into the air along with its scent. 

She felt cold. She felt sick. 

And then she saw it. It was still far enough away, but she could see the pale grey and black of ash and char. 

It was what the stories talked about. What was left afterwards. 

And it was quiet. As the others had expected, no survivors. 

Except for one. Jinsoul knew she could’ve found her. She knew she was still in the forest, but she didn’t know what she’d find when she saw her. 

Jinsoul didn’t want to keep walking. She didn’t want to see it. 

The ground began to crumble beneath her feet the closer she got. Everything, from the branches to the earth, was brittle, worn down by the heat from flames that had already been extinguished. 

She saw the first body. Then the next. 

She vomited. 

With each breath, she could feel the ash still hovering in the air. The air was still hot, as if the fire was only a breath away from tearing into the earth again. 

Jinsoul stumbled as she tried to get away, avoiding anything that could still be recognised as a person. Her eyes burned. 

The darkness felt like a weight on her mind. It made her think of screams, of roaring flames, of red eyes. 

She didn’t need to know what had happened. The aftermath surrounded her. 

Jinsoul forced herself to stand. She wiped and tried to ignore the constant weight of the anger around her. 

Jinsoul started looking for footsteps that might’ve still been burning the earth. 

She heard those same steps in the next moment. 

Jinsoul looked up, dread filling her. 

Jungeun had been near. Jinsoul should’ve looked for her before. She shouldn’t have seen this place before she saw her. 

Jungeun was staring at that place now. She was covered in blood, some of her skin burnt. There were several wounds that made Jinsoul’s throat constrict. 

She was shaking. Her hands were opening and closing into fists. Then her hands stopped somewhere in between and she stopped shaking. 

Jinsoul had wondered what Jungeun would look like when her carefree attitude fell away. She hadn’t expected it to look like this. She hadn’t expected the sight to tear at her heart.

“Ten,” Jungeun said. Her voice wasn’t quiet or loud, but hoarse. “There’s ten people there.” 

Jinsoul took a step forward. 

Jungeun raised her hands. They were covered in burns, with blisters already forming all across her palms and fingers. “I burn the air,” she whispered. Her eyes were alive with the flames she’d used before. They were also dry, but even after the nightmares she’d seen before, Jinsoul had never seen her look like this. 

“What can I do then?” Jinsoul was grateful that her voice came out steady. Seeing Jungeun like this made her nervous. Not about what she’d do, but about what had broken her down. 

“Nothing,” she said. “You’re not immune to heat and, well,” she broke off. “Enough burned today.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off of the corpses. She’d just stayed here. 

“Why are you still here?” 

Jungeun blinked once, looking at her. 

Jinsoul nearly looked away. She didn’t want to hold that gaze, but she forced herself to. 

“I,” Jungeun looked back at the place, “no one should see this.” She grit her teeth. “And you did, I—” 

The air grew warmer. Jinsoul wondered if it’d start to burn again. Then the heat vanished entirely. 

“You should go back,” Jungeun said. “Back to the Astra maybe, or to your people, I won’t—you don’t have to go back with me.” 

“I could still go back with you." She didn’t know how else she was supposed to talk to her. Carefully? Or try to talk in some way that was normal? 

“They should’ve sent someone else,” Jungeun muttered. “Someone used to,” her words caught, “this.” She looked scared for a moment, eyes still on what was behind Jinsoul. 

“I am,” Jinsoul said. 

Her eyes flicked to hers before looking away again. Guilt was swimming in her eyes. 

And then Jungeun laughed. It was a harsh sound. “Proved your point now, haven’t I?” opened, but no sound came out. She blinked several times. Then she looked straight at Jinsoul. It took all she had not to flinch. “If you knew how it had happened,” she trailed off, looking back to the bodies, “you’d—” She broke off. 

Jinsoul shook her head. “Don’t think about that.” 

“I have to,” she spat. “I got what I wanted.” Her eyes still glowed, harsher than before when she’d used her magic. 

No you didn’t, Jinsoul thought. Saying that wouldn’t help her. “Should we go back?” 

Confusion seeped through that look in her eyes. “Weren’t you going?” The anger from before was fading. It left something that was painful to look at. “I thought you’d leave.” Her brow furrowed. She kept looking at the space behind her. 

Jinsoul reached out. 

Jungeun stepped back. 

“The air’s cooled a bit more,” Jinsoul told her. She took her arm, trying not to focus on the burns on her hands. Even through the sleeve, she could feel how Jungeun’s skin still burned. She made sure Jungeun didn’t notice that it hurt. “I have other clothes with me.” She searched for the river and pulled Jungeun along with her. 

Jungeun pulled her arm away, but kept walking with her. 

Jinsoul didn’t look her way this time. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to think about what they’d left behind. She didn’t want Jungeun to either, but she knew that was all she could think about. 

They reached the river. 

“Wait,” Jungeun was already turning away, “I don’t—please don’t heal me.” 

Jinsoul held her breath. None of the wounds were dangerous, but they’d hurt. “Can I clean them at least?” 

She started to speak, before her eyes caught on her hands. She stared at them, before looking at her clothes. There wasn’t any bit of exposed cloth, everything was either covered in ash, blood, or it had been burnt. 

“I’ll just clean them.” Jinsoul held out a hand. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know if she was supposed to treat Jungeun like a patient, as she had to other people who’d been left in a state close to delirium. She didn’t know if leaving Jungeun alone would be the right choice or not. Most of her was sure she needed to stay here unless Jungeun told her to go. 

Jungeun’s jaw was clenched. Her eye twitched. 

Jinsoul felt the tears come before they started to fall. 

And then they came all at once. 

Jungeun put her head in her hands, her fingers into her hair, even despite the burns on them. Jinsoul almost thought she was going to tear it out. A strangled sound left her. 

Jinsoul reached out, but drew her hand back. Jungeun hadn’t cried when she’d heard the news. She hadn’t believed it at first. 

And Jungeun started to sob. 

Jinsoul went over. It was almost painful to be so near. Jungeun’s skin had gotten closer to the heat of a fire. She grit her teeth and pulled her closer. 

Jungeun sank into her, but it felt like an admission of defeat instead of relief. Jinsoul slowly let both of them sink to the ground. 

She didn’t say anything. Jungeun cried silently, but she shook as she did. She coughed every now and then. She wished she had been there, but she was also thankful she hadn’t been. 

It was quiet save for the rushing river and Jungeun’s breathing that had slowly gone from gasps to strained breaths. 

Jungeun slowly pulled away. Her eyes were fixed on her hands, covered in burns and blood. Her lip trembled. Her tears had left tracks through the ash and red on her face, but everything had been smudged. 

Jinsoul drew out a cloth and dipped it in the river. She held it out to her. 

Her eyes looked at it once. There was hardly a reaction, but she took it, dabbing at her hands first. Her brow twitched as she did it.

It was still silent. Jinsoul kept wetting one cloth to swap it with the one Jungeun was holding. She wished she could, but she didn’t infuse it with moonlight.  

Jungeun’s face was free of the dirt now. There were a series of cuts along the side of her face. Jinsoul realised they were from nails. The same marks were on her forehead and neck. Jinsoul tried not to think about the way it would’ve happened. 

“You don’t have to stay here,” Jungeun said. Her voice sounded even more worn. She wrung out the cloth, gritting her teeth, before wiping at her arms. There was a sharp intake of breath, before Jungeun’s expression smoothed over. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Jinsoul asked. 

She looked up. The distant edge to her gaze faded. “Not really.” 

Jinsoul nodded once. 

They swapped the cloths again. Jinsoul put it in the river and let the water clean it again. . 

Then Jungeun stopped. She was trying to wipe at the wound at her side. 

“What’s—” Jinsoul didn’t finish that. It would’ve been the worst question to ask. 

Jungeun grimaced. She knew what she’d wanted to ask. “I don’t think this’ll work.” She looked at the cloth. Her hair was still matted with red and her clothes were still stained. 

“I have a change of clothes with me.” 

Jungeun nodded, but that was it. 

Jinsoul’s eyes stung slightly. She still didn’t know what she could do. Without the healing, there wasn’t anything she could do for her. 

Then Jungeun was rinsing out the cloth herself. 

“I could find a pond? Or stop the current.” 

Jungeun just shook her head. “It’s fine.” Her gaze stayed on the river. “Does it help?”

“Does what help?” 

“You drift in the water a lot,” Jungeun muttered. “I don’t do it, because I can’t swim out again. Don’t really have much to do with a river unless I’m drinking from it.” 

“I hope you bathed in it too,” Jinsoul replied. 

It got her a tiny smile. It wasn’t much, but it was something. 

“I’ve never trusted a river enough not to drown me.” She pursed her lips. “Then again, I didn’t trust the ocean either.” 

Jinsoul moved to the river bank and put her legs in. It was too cold. She made sure the water warmed properly. “Are you sure?” 

Jungeun shifted to sit beside her. She didn’t hide her winces. Jinsoul wished she’d have let her heal her. The water would soothe some of those wounds. Would Jungeun let that happen at least? 

“I’m sure.” Jungeun frowned slightly at the river. “And it’s not as deep as the ocean.” 

Jinsoul went into the river. She stopped the current in the space where she was, bringing the water to a halt, while the rest of the river flowed past her. 

Jungeun let out a short breath. 

“I could also make a very elaborate rain shower.” 

The small smile appeared again and she shook her head. “I think I need the sounds.” She nodded at the river. “This time without the whales in the distance.” 

Jinsoul held out a hand, letting the water rise a bit more. It almost reached Jungeun’s knees. 

She took her hand. Jungeun’s skin still felt like a furnace, but it was more bearable now that Jinsoul was in the water. 

“I’ll make sure you can breathe,” Jinsoul said. She squeezed her hand, letting the river rise a bit higher, watching just in case hesitance or fear would appear in Jungeun’s eyes. 

It never did. 

“I’ll let the current go as soon as you’re in.” 

Jungeun only nodded and pushed herself into the water. Jinsoul felt the power of the current, let it go, and relaxed into it. 

They sank below the depths. 

The first thing Jinsoul did was make a bubble around Jungeun’s mouth, and nose. She didn’t cover her ears. 

Jungeun’s grip on her hand tightened, but she wasn’t thrashing or shaking. Her eyes were open, looking at the surface of the water above them. 

They drifted down the river. Jinsoul made sure they wouldn’t smash against anything, but other than that, she let them move freely, but slowed the current a bit more. 

Slowly, Jungeun relaxed, squeezing her hand lightly. She’d closed her eyes. 

Jinsoul could feel that more tears came. She focused instead on keeping their course through the river and maintaining the temperature of the water. The wounds would be cleaned along the way. Her clothes were another thing, but she couldn’t do that while they were still moving. She could, but she doubted Jungeun would appreciate it. 

“Can you hear me?” Jungeun asked. Her eyes were still glowing brightly, but they weren’t as harsh as before. 

“I can.” 

There was a moment where the current was all she could hear. Jinsoul wondered if that was what Jungeun had wanted. 

Several minutes passed before Jungeun spoke again. 

“I think this’s enough.” 

Jinsoul brought them to a stop then, pushing both of them so that they were upright. 

Jungeun wiped her face, taking a deep breath. She let go of Jinsoul, before pushing herself out of the river then, sitting on the banks again. She didn’t seem to care about the mud. She was looking at the forest, water still dripping from her hair. Except for her clothes, there wasn’t any blood. Jinsoul was sure some of the wounds would still be bleeding, but at least they were clean. 

“It worked.” Jungeun’s elbows rested on her legs. She looked exhausted. 

Jinsoul went to the edge and sat beside her again. Again, she wasn’t sure what to do. Should she take the water away again or let it stay, but keep the temperature warm? 

“What did?” 

“The sound of the water,” Jungeun waved a hand at her ears, “it helped.” She closed her eyes. 

Jinsoul carefully took her hand. It was cold now. “Do you need a fire?” 

“No fire.” She shuddered. “I,” she broke off, sighing. 

“Light?” Jinsoul first warmed the water-soaked ground beneath them. Then she handed her a piece, pressing it into her hand. 

Jungeun’s fingers caught on one of hers before she pulled away. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “You didn’t have to do this, or come here, any of it.” A pause. “You didn’t have to stay.” She let go of her, shame seeping back into her expression. “You can go.”

“Do you want me to?” 

Jungeun’s eyes were on her lap. “No,” she said. Her jaw clenched. "They all thought I'd changed." She closed her eyes. “But you saw what happened. It—you don’t know what I did. I didn’t just kill them.”  

Jinsoul took her hand. “I know.” 

“It was worse than your stories.” She shook her head. “It made you sick.” The hand Jinsoul held stiffened. “You should hate me.” 

“I don’t.” 

Jungeun opened her eyes. “What?” 

Jinsoul squeezed her hand, before pulling her closer. She took away the water, letting Jungeun’s hair and clothes dry. “I don’t hate you.” 

She looked at her, a flicker of hope appearing. Then the emptiness from before took over again. 

Jinsoul swallowed down her reassurances and any other words that wouldn’t help. Not now. “When do you want to go back?” They'd have to go upriver a bit to get the packs. Or Jinsoul would come back for them once Jungeun was with her father. 

“Now,” she muttered. “But not yet.” 

“Close your eyes for a bit.” Jinsoul picked up a clean cloth. “They’re swollen, probably sore, right?” She patted her shoulder. “And come here.” 

Jungeun looked confused then. 

Jinsoul slipped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her over to her. Then she set the cloth over her eyes. 

She sighed. Her head fell to rest on her shoulder. “Is this you pitying me?” Her voice sounded faint, as if she was already falling asleep. 

“No,” Jinsoul said. “This is me being here.” She adjusted the cloth. “For you.” 

“You don’t have to.” Her voice was even fainter now.

“I know.” 

Jungeun didn’t reply. Her head grew heavier and her breathing slowed. 

Jinsoul closed her own eyes. They were still burning. 

The sounds of the river and Jungeun’s breathing were all she had. Jungeun was surprisingly cold beside her. 

Jinsoul summoned light and made it into something that resembled a blanket. She draped it over Jungeun’s lap. 

Jungeun’s wounds were still there, but she slept in spite of them. 

Jinsoul looked to the light then, nearly recoiling when she felt the same darkness from before in Jungeun. 

She looked past it and at the forest around them. Spirits had already gone to the part of the forest where the dead elves were. They’d be distracted by it for a time. 

Still, Jinsoul made her skin glow brighter. Would more spirits have come to Jungeun if she’d have stayed here alone? What had her plan been for afterwards?

Or had there not been a plan? 

Jungeun shifted slightly. The cloth fell away from her eyes. Her brow was furrowed, but her face was otherwise calm. 

Jinsoul wished she had someone there, someone who knew Jungeun better than she did, who knew what to do when she was like this. 

Except ‘like this’ hadn’t ever happened before. Jungeun had lost her mother. She’d gotten her revenge. 

And now she was left with the guilt of it, with horror in her eyes when she looked at what she’d done. 

Jinsoul listened then. She listened past the river and the one beside her. She heard nothing, barely even the wind. There were no birds or animals. There were barely any insects. They’d all fled. 

She realised why Jungeun had wanted to be in the river. She’d been left with the darkness, along with the fear and the anger from before. And the silence. 

______

Jungeun didn’t say anything on the way back. She didn’t look anything like she had before, but she was hiding it. After she’d woken up, Jinsoul had seen her already trying to steel her features into something else. 

Even now, when she greeted her father again, her eyes didn’t give anything away. 

“Their bodies are still there,” she said. “I didn’t—couldn’t send them back. There’s wards against the humans.” She pulled away. “I can go back, but—”

“We’ll take care of it,” Daran cut her off. His eyes were incredibly gentle as he looked at his daughter. There was a question there. Are you alright? “There was also another here, a little bit impatient when it came to waiting for you two.” 

Jinsoul could feel the smallest of tremors in the ground then. She watched as Jungeun’s eyes widened. 

Yerim flew into her arms in the next moment. She'd come as well. 

“Yerim?” Jungeun’s voice was small again. “What’re you doing here? Do you know—"

"I know." Purple eyes met Jinsoul’s. They were teary. “I wanted to go back with you.” 

Jungeun didn’t reply to that. She just wrapped her arms around Yerim tighter. 

Jinsoul saw how people were both looking and trying to avoid staring. They were all concerned, but also nervous. 

She understood why. They knew very well that Jungeun was hiding her grief. They didn’t know what to say, or what to do, but they wanted to be there for her. 

Jinsoul was surprised when Yerim’s arms slipped around her waist. 

“How long did it take you to get here?" Jinsoul asked. 

“I left a day after you did,” Yerim said. She pulled away, but took Jinsoul’s hand, squeezing it. “Technically I snuck away, but I told them where I was once I got here.” She looked after Jungeun who was now walking between the houses. Her father was speaking to some of the others. He looked for his daughter, before looking back to them. 

“It’s good you came,” Jinsoul told her. 

“She looked scared at first.” Yerim’s worry was obvious now. 

Jungeun was scared Yerim would see her differently, just as she’d been afraid that Jinsoul would, but there'd also been relief that Yerim was here as well. Jinsoul was also glad she'd come. 

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Jinsoul,” Daran walked over, looking slightly awkward, “can I speak with you?” 

She could only nod. 

Yerim gave her hand a final squeeze before pulling away. “I’m giving their gardens a bit of an improvement.” She left. 

Jinsoul watched the rest start to disperse, but they were very clearly listening. 

Daran started walking in the opposite direction Jungeun had gone. 

Jinsoul followed. 

Like his daughter, Daran stayed quiet. He had the same expression Jungeun had had earlier. He was also one to hide his grief. He looked just as drained as she was. 

Jinsoul felt a weight press down on her chest. He’d lost the love of his life and his daughter had come back no better than she’d been when she’d left, but worse. 

And now she’d be going back to the Astra. What would Daran do? Was he like Jungeun in that he’d leave for some time? Or would he stay and try to adjust? 

Jinsoul had watched her mother face the same. She’d put all of her energy into her duties for their people. Others had left entirely, going somewhere they’d be without the reminder of all those their loved one had known. Immortality was a gift, but the end of it was a curse few could bear, let alone consider. 

“I don’t need to know what happened,” Daran said slowly. “But how was she?” He turned to her, silver eyes almost pleading. “Was she scared? Angry?” 

Jinsoul needed to force herself to not look away here as well. How could she tell him that Jungeun had been ashamed of what she’d done? How could she tell him of the look she’d seen in her eyes? 

“Both,” Jinsoul said. “And numb. When I got there, there wasn’t any fire, but she—her eyes—I don’t know how long she’d been there. She’d stayed there.” 

Daran only nodded. 

“You’re not surprised?” she asked. She hated what she’d done and she was surrounded by carnage. 

“Jungeun would’ve thought it cowardly to leave,” Daran said, a muscle in his cheek twitching. “She didn’t want to forget what she’d done.” 

“Yes, she does,” Jinsoul said. “I saw it. It scared her.” 

“That’s why she stayed.” His voice was sharper. “Because she was ashamed of what she’d done, because she’d been driven by rage when she’d killed them.” He shook his head. “I knew it,” his voice cracked, “I shouldn’t have let her go.” 

Jinsoul nearly agreed. What stopped her was the pain in his eyes. “She wouldn’t have let you stop her.” 

“She should’ve let me go.” Daran’s voice grew steadier. “And I should’ve made her stay here.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Jinsoul didn’t really want to hear about what should have happened. Thea had been murdered. Jungeun had gone after her killers. She didn’t want to know that what should have happened was someone else going to do that. 

“She was so sure,” he said quietly. “I thought she needed to go. For all—both of us.” 

She wanted to tell him that Jungeun had never needed to do the things she’d done. People had wanted her to, or she’d wanted to, for reasons she’d convinced herself were necessary. 

“I know you don’t agree with any of what we’ve done, what we’re like, but that has its own reasons.” He met her eyes, but they held the same fatigue Jungeun’s had. “But you can blame me for this.” 

For this. Did he mean Jungeun going after the elves? Did he mean the way Jungeun was? Or Thea’s death?

“I blame the people who took her away,” Jinsoul said. She turned her gaze on the forest. She wondered who Daran could speak to. He must’ve had people, like Jungeun had Haseul and Sooyoung. 

But if he was like Jungeun, then he probably didn’t show much more than he was now. 

Jinsoul’s heart sank further. Thea had been the one he would’ve turned to. 

“So do I,” he replied. “And they’re gone.” 

Does it solve anything? Jinsoul wanted to ask. Were their deaths worth Thea’s? She wouldn’t dare say those words, not to Daran, nor Jungeun. 

“Why did you go after her?” Daran asked. “Did you need to see what she’d done? What she’s capable of?” A hint of defensiveness had crept into his voice, but underneath it was sadness. 

“I already knew that.” 

“Like this?” 

Jinsoul shook her head. “This was different.” 

He frowned. “Was it? She went after another target, killed them all, and she’ll go on to the next.” 

Jinsoul was taken aback by the way he spoke. She realised in the next moment that the words were practically a challenge. 

“If it was just what she did, then no, it wasn’t different,” Jinsoul said. “But I saw her before and after it happened.” She didn’t say the rest. “I know it was different.” 

“She hasn’t done something out of anger in a long time.” A familiar guilt was spreading across his expression. “Even some of our own hadn’t been able to look at her the same after they’d seen that.” 

“I know what she did,” Jinsoul told him. “I know what she can do, and that doesn’t change the way I see her.” 

Daran looked at her for a long moment. Jinsoul wondered if he’d asked her here to try and convince her of something. She wondered if that was how he handled his grief. 

"There was a small change in her. When she returned," Daran said. "I went with her to find," he faltered, "when we found her. She went ahead. I thought that pain would never fade." 

Jinsoul didn't know what to say. There was still so much, but Jungeun had driven most of it down. 

He was quiet then. That searching look had returned. Jinsoul felt a flicker of the nervousness she’d gotten when she’d first met him. He was intense in a way she’d never seen Jungeun be. Jungeun always had a more gentle approach. At least she did in everything that wasn’t battle. 

Then she realised he was waiting for something. Her response. 

“It's still there” Jinsoul said. Jungeun was trying to handle it. If that meant she’d drown out her ears with the sound of rushing water, or going away again, then that was what it was. “But she's trying.”

His expression softened. Then he sighed. "What happened? What did you do?"

“We went to the river.” 

His brow rose. “But you didn't heal her," he said. "And that's a fast-moving river."

“My magic,” she started, hoping her voice sounded somewhat steady, “I’m used to strong currents and I slowed them down. All she wanted was to let something else carry her.” And not be surrounded by silence. 

“So that was it,” he said. “Nothing more?” His expression softened. The resemblance to his daughter increased. "You managed to ease a small amount of pain in her," he said then. "Both of you." 

Jinsoul didn't know what that small amount had changed. She knew the grief felt with the loss of a parent. That didn't ease just because someone was there for you. Jinsoul being there hadn't taken away any of it for Jungeun. 

And then he smiled. Even though it was shaky on the edges, it was the very same smile Jinsoul knew so well. It changed his demeanour completely, making him something familiar instead of intimidating. 

“Thank you,” Daran said. “I wanted to stop you at first. I didn’t know if you’d make it worse or not.” 

Jinsoul could only nod. Had she not known Jungeun, had she not seen what she had over the years, she probably would’ve made it worse. 

She still wasn’t sure if she’d made it any better. 

“But having you here—having the other one as well,” he paused, “it’ll help her.” Gratitude and not regret appeared then. "More than we could."

______

Author's Note

Well, that chapter took the turn, I know. As a whole, I was a little nervous to get to this point of the story, but it was also something that needed to be included. Regardless of whether or not we're mortal or immortal, we're going to face loss at one point or another. The way we take that loss is extremely subjective. I personally handle things like that alone, but I know there's a lot of value of turning to other people as well. I wanted to show a part of that here, even if the actual event is very much removed from our reality. 

Still, I wanted the first part of the chapter to be somewhat lighthearted with the trip to the desert. The next chapters will also hopefully have a balance, but I can't guarantee they'll be very light as a whole. I don't think they'll be as long as this one, but I also can't really promise that. 

Do let me know your thoughts! I hope you're all doing well. 

See you in the next chapter. 

Twt: hblake44

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