Note: there'll be the description of what happened in the last chapter. I've put it aside with italics, so if you don't want to read that, you can just skip over it. The scene that starts with "Someone was following them" is also violent, but is relatively short.

_____

Grief changed Jungeun. It should’ve been a subtle change, but Jinsoul kept spotting each nuance. So did Yerim and the rest. When that number grew, it just made it more clear that Jungeun was in more pain than she was letting on. She’d never let the others see it. She didn’t want Jinsoul to see it either. 

Jungeun slept, but she did after spending hours in another’s tent. She ate, but only right at the end of meals—only enough that no one could comment that she didn’t join them. Her smile was weak, even if wide. She could never hide the dullness to the red in her eyes either. 

When they went on patrol, Jinsoul saw the changes to her stance. She was always ready to find a spirit or new threat. Even if there wasn’t a threat, she never relaxed. And when she did fight, it was with swift brutal strikes. She was quick to burn the spirits, but always with a spear of fire. Jungeun had never drawn out those fights before. She’d never let the spirit undergo the turning process longer than necessary, but now it seemed like she wanted to turn it instantly. 

The vampires they came across were not much different. Usually, Jungeun could incapacitate two in the time it took Jinsoul to take one. Now she took three, sometimes even creeping up behind them to finish the fight. 

No matter who they fought, or who they helped, silence always followed. Jungeun always fell into that stupor she’d been in when Jinsoul had first found her. If she ever did speak, she didn’t look Jinsoul’s way, but instead at the sky, even if it was cloudy. 

Yerim kept things from getting too quiet by asking questions. Most of them were things she probably should’ve heard from Haseul, Sooyoung, or Hyunjin already, but she still asked. Anything to keep Jungeun talking. 

Jungeun appreciated the questions, but there were also moments where Yerim didn’t ask anything. That was when Jungeun was clearly trying to force herself to talk. Both of them just let the silences remain when they saw that. Jinsoul didn’t miss the relief in Jungeun’s eyes when that happened. 

And then there were the nightmares. Jungeun had wanted to take a separate tent, admitting that she would almost certainly have more nightmares. Jinsoul had told her that they’d keep sharing a tent for exactly that reason. Surprisingly, Jungeun hadn’t argued much. At first she hadn’t slept at all and she hadn’t even tried to hide it. 

But after a month, she’d started actually coming back to the tent to sleep. If Jinsoul was awake then, she waited until Jungeun’s breath evened out. Sometimes she even waited until she reached her dreams. 

Almost every time she did, Jinsoul ended up hearing small whimpers and desperate whispers. Jungeun cried in her sleep. Jinsoul wondered if she felt any relief when she woke up, or a sense that she’d let some of her grief out in her sleep. She doubted that. 

Jinsoul woke now to warm air. Immediately, she could sense Jungeun’s tears. She knew they evaporated as soon as they left her eyes. 

She heard her rapid breathing next. Then a muffled cry. It hurt to hear. 

Jinsoul sat up. 

Yerim was also awake. She was watching Jungeun, pain in her eyes. “Do we wake her?” 

“I’ll do it.” Jinsoul tried for a smile, but she knew it fell flat. 

Jungeun was shifting around. Her hands had formed fists, the knuckles white. There was blood on the bedroll from her hands. She hadn’t woken up from the pain. 

Then there was another sound, twisted. Had Jungeun’s mouth been open, it would’ve probably been a scream. 

Jungeun had told her not to wake her if she had a nightmare. Jinsoul had done that in the past weeks since she’d started sleeping again, but this was the worst yet. There’d been times when she’d needed to wake her. 

Jinsoul went over to her side. The air got warmer. Jinsoul could feel the heat emanating from Jungeun’s skin. She knew that if she touched her, it would burn. 

She grabbed one of her shirts, covering her hand. Then she shook Jungeun’s shoulder. 

“Hey,” she said. “Wake up.” She shook her harder. “You’re just dreaming.” She could feel the heat even through the cloth. She winced when it surged. 

Jungeun cringed away, another muffled cry. 

“Jungeun,” Jinsoul gripped her shoulder, “please get up.” She shook her again, tightening her grip. 

Jungeun’s eyes opened. Fire had caught in her irises.

Jinsoul felt a flash of pain in her head. Grief clutched her chest, almost suffocating her. She choked back her own sob. Rage filled her mind in the next moment. 

 

Someone screaming as her hands wrapped around their throat. She saw the skin burn beneath her fingers, falling away to reveal muscle, and then bone. Her own hands were burning as well, but she didn’t scream. 

Another was running over. The flames on the ground shot towards them, solidifying into what looked like a whip. The fire wrapped around their chest, seizing them before throwing them to the ground. 

Jinsoul let go of the person, the only sounds escaping their mouth were twisted moans. 

She went to the person on the ground. 

“Please,” they cried. She looked like a young woman, but she was far older than that. Still, she looked helpless. 

“You don’t get to beg,” Jinsoul said, but her voice sounded harsh. She realised then that it wasn’t hers.

Then she called the flames to her. They seemed to relish in the rage coursing through her. She couldn’t feel her own light. 

Jinsoul saw another with their hands up. The air left her lungs. She felt her legs want to give out and her chest wanting to constrict. 

But then she lunged for the elf taking away her breath. Her feet worked against the urge to stop. Her body was using up the energy it was already starting to lose. 

Jinsoul grabbed their outstretched hands and wrenched them down to the ground. There was a crack in one arm. They screamed. 

Then the air was back in her lungs. The fire came with it. 

Jinsoul let go of the broken wrist. Her free hand went over the elf’s mouth. She fed them flames. Their eyes were a bright green, now filled with agony and terror. 

 

Then the vision was gone. 

“It’s alright, Yerim,” Jungeun whispered. “This's happened before. You saw it.”

“Another dream?” Yerim asked. 

Jinsoul could watch how her expression shifted, struggling to give an answer to the question. She also saw the moment Jungeun knew she’d come to again. 

“I told you not to wake me.” Jungeun’s voice shook now. Clinging to her eyes were several droplets. 

Jinsoul wiped them away. Jungeun’s skin felt like fire.  

Jungeun moved her hands away, before hissing. She let go of Jinsoul immediately after, looking at her hands. The skin on her fingers and the top of her palm was bright red. She’d burned herself.

“I don’t know how well I can control the fire now,” Jungeun said. “What if you—what if I hurt you?” She shifted away from her, eying Jinsoul’s hands, which were also reddened. There was a mixture of fear, exhaustion, and guilt in her eyes. 

“I’m never far away from the best remedy for burns,” Jinsoul replied. “And I don’t think you should be either.”

She was already shaking her head. “I know what you saw.” Her voice trembled more. She was avoiding her eyes. They still held the flames. Her expression flashed between the pain and being devoid of those emotions. She wasn’t able to hide it properly. 

“What—” Yerim started, before she cut herself off. 

Jinsoul tried to keep from showing she was still shaken. She’d been Jungeun. She’d felt the sheer volume of her anger. Her mind felt as though it’d been burned by that very anger, but made heavy by the grief. That heaviness still weighed down on her. 

She could still see the people Jungeun had taken her revenge on. She still felt how empty she’d felt watching them die, but also the bursts of satisfaction she’d felt when they’d screamed. 

“I’ll leave,” Jungeun started moving away, “I—I just need,” she stammered. Her head sank into her hands. She broke into the sobs she kept trying to stifle. 

Jinsoul felt a pain different to the one she’d felt from the memory. It was her own. To see Jungeun like this, not even with the strength she’d used to hide, it hurt. 

She went over to her and wrapped her arms around Jungeun’s frame. She pulled her to her. Jungeun leaned away.

“This doesn’t hurt me,” Jinsoul whispered. “Promise.” It was on the brink of being painful, but she wouldn’t tell her that. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungeun choked out. “What you saw, that—it wasn’t a nightmare.” 

“I know.” She rested her chin on Jungeun’s head, before rubbing her hand up and down her back. “It’s alright.” She caught Yerim’s eye and tried to tell her the same that way. 

She could feel her shake her head. “No,” Jungeun muttered. “They begged me to spare them.”

Jinsoul hadn't seen the rest, but did that matter? No words could've broken through Jungeun’s anger—her hatred. 

What else was she supposed to tell her? It wasn’t your fault was the most stupid thing she could say. They deserved it wouldn’t work either. She wasn’t even sure if Jungeun believed that anymore. Had she even thought so in the first place? 

“Don’t go there,” Jinsoul told her instead. “You can’t do that to yourself.” She almost made her look at her, but she knew Jungeun wouldn’t meet her eyes. She wouldn’t risk Jinsoul seeing that memory again. “You got your revenge. You know your father and anyone else at home would’ve done that too.” 

Daran, who’d been one of the people to shape Jungeun into the person she was today. He'd trained her until she could fight when the air was taken away from her, while she'd tried to emulate his stoicism. That same person had looked at Jungeun with sadness and regret. When he'd seen her come back, he'd realised just how deep that training had been driven into her. 

It was only slightly, but Jinsoul felt Jungeun lean into her. 

“I’m not going to tell you it’s okay,” Jinsoul continued. “Because I know you don’t believe that.” She pulled her a bit closer. “But I don’t want you to go just because of what I saw,” she said. “I don’t want you to have to live through that either.” Her stomach twisted at the thought that Jungeun had been reliving that in her dreams this entire time. 

Jungeun didn’t reply. 

“I’ll be here to wake you. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll just throw a part of the river at you so I don’t get close.”

A tiny laugh. Like her smile, it lacked so much energy, but it was still a laugh. 

“I can stay here until you fall asleep, if you want.” 

Jungeun gently leaned away. Jinsoul loosened her grip so she could. She finally met her gaze. The fire in her eyes had slowed, but it still swirled within her irises. 

“I won’t be sleeping today,” Jungeun said. Her eyes were swollen. “I think I just need,” she took a deep breath, “some air.” Her lips twitched up for a brief smile. “Thanks for waking me up.” She looked to Yerim then. “Sorry,” she whispered.

There it was again. She was pulling back all that she’d let out. It was both reassuring, because Jungeun had passed a breaking point and she was coming back from it, but also worrying. Would this happen again? Was Jungeun just going to avoid facing all those things she felt? 

Jinsoul let her go. “Be careful.” 

Jungeun only nodded. Then she left. 

When she was far enough away, Jinsoul went back to her bedroll, sinking into the furs. She could still feel the pain across her fingers. Jungeun had lost control over her magic. It’d burned her. Jungeun too. 

“Jinsoul?” Yerim was at her side now. “Are you okay?” Her arms were already going around her. 

Jinsoul let Yerim pull her close. She closed her eyes, feeling how they started to burn. She let them. 

“It’s about what happened, isn’t it?” Yerim asked. “What she did.” There was a dull edge to her voice. A knowing one. 

“Did you see?” Jinsoul looked up at her. 

Her face was pained. “I went to make the—to help them fix—I went there.” Her voice was quiet. “I buried the ash, started the growth of new trees, and helped them send the bodies back.” 

Yerim hadn’t shown any sign that she’d seen it on the way back. She’d only stayed close enough to Jungeun so she’d know she was there, but she’d also been quiet. Still, all of them had been. Jungeun hadn’t wanted the silence before, but she’d wanted it then. 

“You’re seeing her memories?” Yerim frowned slightly. “I thought you only saw her dreams.”

“I saw her nightmares,” Jinsoul said. “I don’t know how I do, but it happens if I wake her.”

“I could wake her up next time,” she told her. “You don’t have to be the one to always do it.”

Jinsoul shook her head. “You don’t want to see that.”

“Neither do you,” Yerim said sharply. “Your vision cleared and you looked haunted.” 

Had Jungeun seen that too? That made it worse, didn’t it?

“Yerim,” Jinsoul started. “I think it only happens if I look into her eyes. I just have to avoid that.” She put her arms around Yerim’s waist. “And I’ve been waking her for years. I usually don’t see what she does. Jungeun knows how it happens too, so she can avoid it happening too.” This nightmare had just been too much. They'd both forgotten. 

“But if I’m awake too, let me.” She tightened her grip on her, before laying down. “It’s the three of us now. You’d both wake me up if I had nightmares. We’d do the same if you had them.” 

Jinsoul almost said this was different, but she bit down on her tongue. It wasn't fair to say. 

“Do you think you can sleep?” Yerim asked. There was something soothing about her voice. Jinsoul felt safe with her there. She also smelled like a meadow of flowers. It wasn’t anything overpowering, but it filled her senses. 

“I think so,” Jinsoul whispered. “You’ll stay?” 

A tiny laugh. “Of course.” She gently poked Jinsoul’s back. “I love cuddling.”

Jinsoul chuckled. “Me too.” She sank a little further into Yerim’s side and closed her eyes. 

In her dreams, she saw a forest being engulfed in flames. Then the skies opened and rain fell. 

The trees kept burning. 

_____

Jinsoul looked up when the flaps of the tent were parted. Her heart nearly dropped when she saw who was walking—stumbling in. 

Haseul was holding her up, but she looked pained as well. Jungeun’s entire leg was covered in red, but Jinsoul could see where the injury had started. Upper thigh. She was pale.

“What happened?” Jinsoul immediately brought water from a basin to wrap around the leg. How much blood had she lost?

“We found someone who had a pet lion,” Jungeun muttered. 

“Warlocks,” Sooyoung said. “We think one was able to to control their minds.”

“Either that or the thing was a friend.” Jungeun grimaced as they moved over the floor. 

They made her sit down. Jinsoul spotted burns along her arms and hands. Why were they there?

“And it bit you.” Jinsoul pulled away the water and set it into a basin, before drawing it out again without the blood and dirt. She infused it with moonlight and repeated the process. She spotted a stab wound in her side too. “Was there anything else?” She put some water there too. 

Jungeun was avoiding her eyes. 

“Had one other encounter there,” Haseul said. 

On the way there or back? Jinsoul wanted to ask. 

“Come on,” Nuala called. “We’ll tend to yours too.” 

“But there isn’t,” Sooyoung started. 

“I can see you hiding that arm from me,” she chided. “And your knee.” She pointed at Haseul. 

It was almost funny to see the two of them walk over. 

She looked to Jungeun only to see that her ears were red now. 

“Can I?” Jinsoul pointed at her side. Was she embarrassed? “Was it a big lion?”

Jungeun nodded. “You’ll see with the bite marks,” she muttered. 

Jinsoul lifted the shirt. It hadn’t fully stuck to the wound, but it’d soaked up a fair amount. She cleaned it with the water. Her stomach tensed every now and then. 

Jinsoul focused instead on her leg, cleaning it as well. 

“You look mad.” 

She peered up, only to see that Jungeun was watching her, eyes slowly filling with a bit of concern. Hesitance too. 

“I’m not mad,” Jinsoul said. “I was just surprised.” The full breadth of the bite marks came into view this time. She in a breath. “Was it some mutated lion?” She glanced at her. 

“A normal lion, I think,” Jungeun chuckled, “haven’t really seen that many.” 

“This might hurt,” she said, before carefully pressing on the leg. 

Jungeun yelped. 

“Bone’s affected too,” Jinsoul sighed, “you shouldn’t have even been walking on it.” 

She scoffed. “Should I’ve let them carry me?” 

“Actually yes.” 

Jungeun gave her a look. 

Jinsoul should’ve expected it, but seeing it was just another reminder of how stubborn Jungeun could sometimes be. 

Jinsoul made a face back at her. “You made the damage to your muscles worse. So now you’ll need more time to recover.” 

“Time,” Jungeun repeated. “To recover?”

“You can’t just go on another patrol like this.”

“I heal fast enough.”

Jinsoul shook her head. “You’ll just make this last longer than it has to.” 

“Jinsoul,” Jungeun looked at her, “I’m perfectly capable of walking on a bad leg.” 

“You carried me when I practically shattered my knee.” 

“Because I heard all the cracks,” Jungeun said, shuddering slightly. “You nearly carried me when the spirits managed to get my leg. I said no, because that barely compared.” 

Jinsoul bit back her next retort. It was almost no use, but she wanted to press her about it. “You’re not walking on it for at least two nights. I should make it three, but I know you’ll try and force me to keep it at one or none, and I don’t want to argue after night two.” 

Her brow rose. “So just one night rest?”

Jinsoul put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back so she was laying down. “Two.” 

“Tomorrow night. I need to settle something with Yeri first, then it’s one or two things in the towns. That’s all during the day. Easy too.” 

“I’m not negotiating,” Jinsoul replied. “Wouldn’t you rather a walk where you don’t have the worst leg pain ever after?” 

“I don’t want to do nothing for two nights.” Jungeun almost looked like she wanted to sulk. 

“You can always keep me company here?” Jinsoul wondered if that was saying too much. 

“Or you could come with me to town?” Her eyes were a little wide as she looked up at her. 

She looked away. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Or you’ll say yes?” Jungeun leaned forward a bit. 

Jinsoul pushed her back down again. “Or I’ll ask someone else to tend to this.” She summoned a thin film of moonlight, before holding it up. “You choose.” 

Jungeun smiled then. It lacked a lot of light from before, but it was still something. “I’ll close my eyes then.” Her eyes flickered around her face before closing. “I’m tired.”

She hummed once, before starting to bind the leg.

If she glanced up, Jungeun had opened her eyes again. She was watching her. There was a hint of the heaviness in her gaze, but it wasn’t that strong. Her eyes were the red they usually were when she used her magic. 

“Your eyes look like the sky sometimes,” Jungeun said quietly. “Spring.” A pause. “In the morning.” 

“No one’s ever described it like that,” Jinsoul replied, lifting a brow. “The early evening sky, maybe, but mostly like the sea. Way in the north. Cold.” 

“Cold?” she repeated. “They’re almost never cold.” 

Almost. Jinsoul wondered how Jungeun had seen her eyes in the beginning. She hoped she’d never have to see that again. 

“I mean, maybe it looks like the sea there. I’ll give them that,” Jungeun was still talking, “but your eyes—you—“ Then she looked away. “I think—I mean, they’re warm.” Her ears were red again. Then she closed her eyes again. 

Jinsoul realised she was smiling then. Yours are too, she thought. They hadn't lost that warmth, even after some of the light had gone. 

_____

Jungeun was out with Sooyoung again. She hadn't let Jinsoul keep her immobile for any longer than a day and night. The healing would take longer and Jinsoul knew each step would still hurt, but she'd also known full well that Jungeun wouldn’t listen to her. Jinsoul didn't think the leg would be the problem now, even if it was hurting her. Before she'd hurt her leg, she'd been coming back the last time with flecks of blood still on her neck, missed when she’d tried to wash the rest off.

Jinsoul worried about what the next time would bring. Time was wearing Jungeun down more than any injury could. 

And there was still the question of why she hadn’t gone away yet. Jinsoul hadn’t asked yet. She was almost afraid that she’d hear when that’d be. 

“Dinner?” Haseul asked from the tent’s entrance. 

“Hang on.” Jinsoul nodded to the water basin. She lifted her hands, separating it from everything that wasn’t water, before infusing it with moonlight. There was a sharp tug in her head with the exertion, but she kept going. Then she put it back into a clean basin. 

“That’s still so cool,” Haseul said. “I’ve tried it a few times and it’s amazing to drink.” 

They left the tent.

Jinsoul smiled. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“A lotta people do.” She stretched her arms over her head. “If you could charge for it, I think you’d make a good profit.” 

“It’s water and it’s light.” Jinsoul waved at the sky. "We're not really struggling for resources on that front.” 

“But your energy's finite,” she said. “At least the nightly dose.” She pointed at her face. “Your eyes’re dim.” 

“It’s been a long day?” 

“Night,” Haseul winked, “but I get that.” She also looked tired. 

“Where were you?” 

“Mediterranean,” she said. “There were some spirits they wanted dealt with on the coast, so I passed on some spears to use.” Then she groaned. 

“What?” Jinsoul looked over. “Does your head hurt?”

“No,” Haseul sighed, “I’m an idiot.” She squeezed her arm. “Next time, you’re coming with me.” 

“I am?” 

“You could join in the spirit hunting in the ocean,” she replied. "Sounds good, doesn't it?” Her brow rose. 

Jinsoul grinned. “It does.” In the back of her mind, she wondered if there was any way for Jungeun and Yerim to come with her. They could come with, but they couldn’t go into the sea, not even if she gave them air to breathe. Waiting on the beach could be nice, but the Mediterranean was well populated with both mortals and immortals. Either the two would love it or they’d just go off into the nearest collection of trees together to hunt other spirits. 

“What’s that face?” Haseul’s brow rose. “Second thoughts?”

Jinsoul blushed slightly. “No,” she said. “Just thinking.” 

She nodded, but it didn’t look convinced. 

They reached the fire pit. No one else was there. Either they were with others or busy somewhere else. 

Jinsoul sat down. The fire burned without wood. Their fire-pit was always that way, almost always lit too, even when Jungeun was away.

“I don’t really know what we’re supposed to do,” Haseul said. 

Jinsoul looked up. “With what?”

“Jungeun.” She sat down beside her. 

She frowned. “But you’ve been helping her.” They’d always gone somewhere. Jungeun sought out those patrols more than she did with Yerim and Jinsoul. 

“Helping,” Haseul repeated. “I don’t think we’re doing anything.” She met her eyes. “We talked about it once, but that doesn’t always help her.” 

“Do you think she’ll be leaving again?” Jinsoul asked. She almost didn’t want to know. Jungeun had only needed to leave once, but her absence had been noticeable even then. 

Haseul nodded. “But she doesn’t want to.” 

“How do you know that?”

“She’s still here,” Haseul said. “If she’d wanted to, she would’ve gone the moment you got back. I think she thinks she can do that without it?” She frowned. “But it won’t work.” 

Jinsoul watched the fire. It burned slower than the fire Jungeun used when fighting. It also wasn’t as bright, holding instead a warmer orange glow. The other fires she made sometimes had red in them. They had them more now too. 

“But you’re helping,” Haseul said. “You know that, right?”

“I haven’t done anything.” 

“You and Yerim just being with her is,” she trailed off, “it’s helping.” Then her eyes softened even more. “And you still wake her up when she needs it.” 

“Or she just doesn’t sleep,” Jinsoul said. She’d thought Jungeun would eventually come back to the tent properly, but she’d only come back for brief sets of sleep that barely exceeded two hours. 

“And the witches enable that,” Haseul sighed, “I’m just happy they never told her how to make it.” 

Jinsoul wasn’t surprised to know this’d been going on for longer. What made her wonder was the familiarity in Haseul’s voice. Hadn’t Jungeun always been alone when she was asleep? Then again, they’d been away for patrols together too. 

“It’s good you went after her,” Haseul muttered, also looking at the fire now. “At first I thought, if anyone was going, it was supposed to be Soo and me.” She sighed. “But we weren’t going to go, because one, a good amount of her people aren’t that fond of us. Two, we’d thought Jungeun would want to do all that alone.” 

And she’d done it alone. Jinsoul didn’t know how much Haseul knew of what’d actually happened.

“Did she tell you anything?”

“Enough,” Haseul replied. She opened , before closing it again. Jinsoul felt how Haseul’s eyes started to get teary, but she was holding them back. “And I know what it’d have felt like. Both sides.” She reached over and took her hand. It was a silent question. Are you alright?

Jinsoul nodded. She knew full well that Haseul had painful stories of her own. She’d probably tell her if Jinsoul asked, but that wasn’t something she needed to say. Jinsoul knew Haseul wouldn’t want to either. 

“Is there anything we should do?” Jinsoul asked instead. “Anything we can do?” 

“We’ve always just let her do what she thinks is best,” Haseul said. “We’d all thought she’d learned to cope before she came here. I thought that too for a while.” She shook her head. “But they taught her was how to burn through it.” 

“If things got bad before, I asked her what we were supposed to do,” Haseul continued. “The answer I got was somewhere between do nothing, and just listen to her.” She laughed, but it was short. “But how often do we even know what we need when things fall apart?” 

Jinsoul didn’t reply. It was a subject she’d learned to be careful around. They’d rarely shied away from going to the fae for help, but they’d tried to help their own how they could. Some wanted to be alone, some needed company, while there were others who couldn’t bear either. 

“What did you do before?” Jinsoul asked. 

“A lot of what we’re doing now,” she replied. “Distracting her, letting her do whatever she thinks she needs to do, however she wants.” 

Was that why Jungeun kept going away with them? Did she feel like she couldn’t do those things around them? 

“It’s not because of you,” Haseul said. “Either of you.” 

“What isn’t?” 

She gave her a look. “She isn’t distancing herself from either of you. Not really.” Then she sighed. “I know what that looks like.” 

The expression on her face was familiar. There was a sadness, joined in part with doubt. The only difference was that there wasn’t really any longing. 

Was it because Jungeun didn’t do that anymore?

“She’s ashamed.” Haseul’s voice was hushed. She was looking to see if anyone was listening to them.

“And she isn’t with you?” 

What would it have been like if she hadn’t acted the way she had before? Jungeun hadn’t hid those things. She’d told Jinsoul a lot, almost all of it without hiding her actions or motivations. 

Except Jinsoul had never acted like Haseul or Sooyoung had. 

“It’s because we’ve seen what we’re capable of,” Haseul said. “All three of us have done things we’re not proud of.” 

“So have we,” Jinsoul replied. 

“I know,” she reached over and squeezed her arm, “but you didn’t enjoy it, did you? Either of you.” 

Jinsoul looked away. 

“That’s never meant we went out of our way for it,” Haseul’s voice sounded strained, “it just meant that we didn’t have to explain ourselves. At least not then.” 

It made sense. Each of them had known well enough what burden the guilt and shame carried. Jinsoul had no idea what they’d done before. She didn’t know what it meant for them to be able to find solace in having only the three of them there. 

“But I barely knew that she was having nightmares.” Haseul took a deep breath. “Only when we were out somewhere else and she was tired enough for me to take the watch instead of her, or—” She pushed out the air again, before giving a very clearly forced chuckle. “That is not how I expected this to go.” 

What was that supposed to mean? Jinsoul was just about to ask. 

“Honestly I’m actually a little surprised no one told you yet.” 

It clicked then. 

Then Haseul lifted a brow. “Is it that unexpected?” 

“No,” Jinsoul said quickly, making sure she didn't look so surprised. It wasn't really that surprising. She’d even thought there’d been something in the beginning. 

“There’s nothing now,” Haseul said. There was something else to the way she said it. “Hasn’t been for years actually.” 

She hid her frown at the emphasis there. 

Then Haseul cleared . “I think I proved my point, right? Don’t worry that it’s the two of you, because it really isn’t.” 

Jinsoul laughed slightly. “All this for that?”

She nodded. “You still don’t really believe me, so yes, all that.” Then she got up and summoned two bowls of moonlight. There was a look in her eye. 

“And you’re not done yet,” Jinsoul said. 

“You’re right.” Haseul winked at her. “But I’ll leave it short.” She filled the bowls with soup before handing one to her. “Everything you’re doing now is helping her, even if you can’t see it.” She summoned two spoons next. “And if she wanted to be alone, completely alone, she would be.”

Jinsoul accepted the spoon. They started eating. Haseul asked her about the healing tent and what she did there. They talked about another extended patrol. Jinsoul hadn’t often been on patrols with Haseul, let alone Sooyoung. They were either within their own ‘usual’ groups, or off doing whatever it was they did for the elders.  

They didn’t talk about Jungeun after that. Yeojin and Heejin joined them soon enough. Haseul’s smile turned cheeky as she started teasing Yeojin about their training the next night, with Heejin joining in. 

Jinsoul wasn’t really spared from it, because neither Haseul nor Yeojin believed in leaving embarrassing magic slip ups in the past. 

When Sooyoung and Jungeun came back, they were both unharmed. 

She felt a knot in her stomach ease when she saw her. The corners of Jungeun’s mouth tugged up when she waved to them. Sooyoung sat down, but Jungeun walked away. She was limping.

Jinsoul wasn’t the only one who watched her go. Sooyoung’s shoulders had sagged when Jungeun had turned away, Haseul’s hands had tightened around her bowl, while Yeojin hadn’t been able to hide her disappointment, nor any of her sadness. Their conversation had a heavy undertone until Hyunjin proceeded to terrify all of them by recounting a mortal ghost story and combining it with a very disturbing facial expression. 

Laughter filled the air. Jinsoul felt a lot lighter than she had in a few days, but she missed one particular laugh paired with bared teeth and a furrowed brow. It was almost strange how well she could see it behind her eyes. 

She pushed it from her mind. 

_____

Jungeun had felt their eyes on her as she’d left. It was almost entirely the reason she didn’t want to be there in the first place. Still, she felt guilty for not sitting down with them. 

She was at the river now. The solitude was both a relief and a reminder of what she didn’t want to know. 

It wasn’t quiet. It was spring, so the birds were starting to sing to each other. The wind still blew across her ears in soft waves of sound. The river was calm here, but still loud enough to drown out a little more of the silence. 

Her leg ached. She wondered if Jinsoul might’ve been right that she should’ve waited to walk on it. 

Except she could run with it fine. If she drank a healing draught, coupling it with moonlight-infused water, there was no pain. It was just wearing off now, so a part of it was burning, with the other being a very sharp pain each time there was a small movement in her leg. There was also a strange ache in her chest.

She wrapped some moonlight around it now. It took the edge away, but not all of it. At least she wasn’t sitting idly anymore. Being in the camp was worse than the pain of a bad leg. 

It was impossible to hide from what’d happened. She could hide that she was grieving, but everyone knew that she was. She saw it in the eyes filled with sympathy or concern. Everyone seemed to expect her to crack, to lash out, or to break down. They were looking for something they could comfort. A problem they could fix. 

The seers avoided her eyes when she was near. Eline wasn’t one of them, but even her gaze had softened some. Jungeun wondered if they’d known what she was going to do. She still didn’t know how the path of time was supposed to look for them. Had there been a shadow over her fate? A flicker in her path when she’d hunted them down? 

Then she realised someone was coming. It was something she’d learned through the light, a way to feel how the light of her surroundings didn’t match that of a person. She looked into the light immediately, only to see that the person was absorbing some of that light. There were swathes of grey, but the light was still brighter than most. 

“How’d you know I’d be here?” 

“I’ve known you for a while," Jiwoo said. "I think I’d know where your favourite nesting places are.” 

Jungeun huffed. “I’m not a bird.” 

She just hummed. 

Jungeun knew one reason why she was here. She appreciated it more than she’d have thought. 

Jiwoo sat down beside her, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Are you doing that on purpose?” 

“Doing what?” 

“You’re not warm,” Jiwoo said. “I mean, you feel like a normal person, which’s practically cool.” 

“Oh.” Jungeun leaned into her side. “I don’t feel that different.” It wasn’t really true, but she hadn’t paid any attention to if she was warm or cold. 

“Okay.” She didn’t believe her. 

Jungeun went back to watching the river.  She liked how the rushing water filled her ears. A deeper sort of calm settled in her. 

“When’s that leg gonna be healed properly?” Jiwoo asked. “Not sure if the walk over here was good for it.” 

“I hopped for some of it.”

“And now she’s a rabbit.” A small chuckle. “So you didn’t use a crutch?” 

“I’m walking fine,” Jungeun gave her a look, “have you been talking to Jinsoul?”

Jiwoo shoved her lightly. “I have eyes. I can see you limping.”

“My leg works perfectly, thank you very much.” She pushed back. 

Jiwoo laughed. “I thought you were supposed to be the mature one.” 

“I am.” She knocked her head against Jiwoo’s. 

They stayed there, heads leaned together. Jiwoo told her about the trip she’d had with Chaewon and Hyejoo. They’d been hunting in the mountains. Six spirit encounters. They hadn't been in the mountains for a while. 

“There was a bat the size of a dog,” Jiwoo said. “Terrifying, but incredible.”

“There’s a lot of mountains,” Jungeun said. “Caves too.” She wanted to explore them, but she didn’t usually trust herself not to get lost. 

“Should we go?” 

“We will.” Jungeun smiled. “Some day.” 

Jiwoo straightened then. “You’re leaving?” 

She shrugged. “Not yet?” 

Something crossed her features then, before it left. “Are you sure?” 

Jungeun looked at her. She’d not planned on it any time soon, but she was going to. She was going to need time away. A lot of it. 

“I wanted to try staying for a little longer,” Jungeun said. 

“Don’t push it,” Jiwoo replied. “Especially if it’s not for you.” 

She couldn’t help but frown. “It is.” 

“Not completely,” Jiwoo said. “There’s a lot of riverbanks you can sit around.”

“Do you want me gone?” Jungeun chuckled. 

“No.” She turned to face her and grabbed both her hands. “But you don’t like being here. Not when it’s like this.” 

Jungeun blinked. Since when had Jiwoo known about that? She’d never had to give big reasons for why she needed to go. 

“What,” Jiwoo smiled ever so slightly, “didn’t think we’d learn a few things about you?” She reached up to tap the space between her eyebrows, before frowning ever so slightly. “Did you?” 

Jungeun just shrugged. 

Jiwoo was still frowning, but she squeezed her hands. “Either way, I want you gone only because you want to go.”

“It won’t be like before,” Jungeun muttered. “It’ll be for a long time.”

“Doesn’t matter for how long it is.” She finally smiled then. “You do remember we’re immortal, right?”

Except she’d been with the others for a very long time. There were two who she hadn’t. The time she took away had the potential to be longer than the time she’d known them for. 

“Oh.” Jiwoo was looking at her. “It’s because of them.” She didn’t sound surprised. “Do you want them to come with you?”

Jungeun shook her head. It was the last thing she wanted. Not when she was like this. 

“But you want them around?”

“No,” Jungeun said. Then she cringed. “Of course I want them around. They’re already—I mean,” she stopped herself. 

“Family?” Jiwoo suggested. 

She stared at her. “It’s too soon for that.” 

“It’d be too soon if they were your favourite people,” Jiwoo said. She pursed her lips. “So friends?” Her brow rose, as if she knew very well the word didn’t fit either. 

Jungeun thought about it. Yerim had quickly become a friend in the beginning, but now it was different too. She couldn’t describe how, only that she’d had the same feeling when she’d started to find a home among the Astra. 

She didn’t know when Yerim had become closer to her than what she considered a friend. Jiwoo had been like that, with the constant insistence that she eat with them, or telling stories about all of the others, all while wearing a bright grin that was completely genuine. 

Had it been when she’d started telling them about her life before? Or when they’d been in the north together? Maybe even just during one of their patrols?

Then there’d been what’d happened years after that. Yerim had known what she’d done. Jungeun also knew she’d seen it. She’d seen the haunted edge to her eyes on the way back. It’d never been there when she’d looked her way, but Jungeun had still seen it. 

“You’re thinking about that long.” Jiwoo’s smile was gentle. 

“Because it’s not that simple,” Jungeun said. “Jinsoul actually said it the best. Even if Yerim hasn’t been here long, it still feels like I’ve known her for decades.”

“And Jinsoul?” 

“Jinsoul,” Jungeun repeated. 

Jiwoo nodded. 

She should’ve been able to answer that. They might’ve been friends at one point, but even that was different now, wasn’t it? 

Jiwoo nodded again, a more subdued smile now. “Something else.”

Jungeun frowned at the wording. “Not like that.” A part of her heart twisted thinking about it. 

Her brow shot up then. “At all?” 

She almost said yes, but that was a lie. She didn’t know what she was actually supposed to say to that, or if she even could. 

Then Jiwoo was shaking her head. “Forget I asked,” she said. “Sorry.” She looked away. 

“It’s alright.” Jungeun tried for a smile. “I just don’t think I can give you that answer now.”

Jiwoo leaned back against the tree again. She almost looked at a loss. 

Jungeun closed her eyes, feeling the guilt start to wash over her again. “But you’re right,” she said. “I’ll have to leave soon.” 

The hand around hers tightened. 

The birds were getting a bit louder now. It'd be morning soon. The ache in her chest had strengthened. 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Why?” Jiwoo’s voice was hushed, as if she wanted to keep from disturbing the bird songs. 

“Honestly,” Jungeun laughed slightly, “I don’t want to be alone out there.”

“Sua’s in one of the rainforests,” she replied. “You could meet them there.” 

It was a good idea. She couldn’t be there long, not like she was, but for a short time it’d work. 

“Why else don’t you want to go?” 

“To prove I don’t have to go somewhere,” Jungeun admitted. “You’re all expecting me to leave, because it’ll help me—and you’re all right—but I don’t want that to be the only way this’ll get better.”

“It won’t be,” Jiwoo said. “It’ll take more than just time away to heal that.”

Jungeun opened her eyes. That was only a story to her. Jiwoo had lost her father to spirits when she was young, maybe Yerim’s age. He’d lost his mind to the darkness, something no one could heal. 

“But you need to take that time, for as long as you need,” she continued. “To start to heal the worst of it.” Her arm went back around her. “And maybe I’ll pay you a little visit if you end up missing me too much.” 

Jungeun laughed slightly. 

Jiwoo’s smile was a little brighter. 

The birds were still singing. The river still flowed by.

_____

Someone was following them. 

Jungeun turned to the other two. 

“I know they’re there,” Jinsoul said. Her eyes were somewhere else. 

Jungeun looked down only to see that her hands were shaking. She forced them to stop.

“You both need to go,” she said. No one had ever come after them when Yerim and Jinsoul were there with her. She needed to keep it that way. 

“What?” Yerim frowned. “We can’t leave.” 

“You will.” Jungeun looked to Jinsoul. “You have to.” She saw the moment Jinsoul wanted to say no. “Please.” Then she ran, knowing full well she’d out pace them. 

Footsteps, before someone stumbled. 

“We have to go with her,” she heard Yerim say. “What if something happens?

“We’ll be here,” Jinsoul said. Neither of them followed. 

Jungeun wished they wouldn’t be, but they’d have never gone. It was almost a good thing. Almost. 

There was a surge of air that blasted her off to the side. 

There was a loud crash as she broke through a tree. She shot fire in their direction, several bursts of it. 

When she landed, it was on her bad leg. She bit down a cry, as she scrambled across the ground. She took deep breaths as she ran, sending fire across the air and drawing out her axe in the next moment. 

She heard a scream when one of the blasts of fire struck him. 

The air turned cold, launching her across the forest again. Then there was a sharp pain in her lungs. He’s changed something in her chest. She couldn't breathe.

Jungeun forced herself back up. The pain in her leg was stronger too. 

She didn’t breath. She threw a wall of fire, following it with more gusts of flames, before throwing a knife at where she’d seen him. The flames were all extinguished. 

There was the sound of an impact and a sharp intake of breath. 

It still hurt when she took in her next breath, but it was easier. She summoned more fire. 

She heard him scream. 

And then she couldn’t breathe again. 

Jungeun stumbled. Wasn’t he too hurt to use his magic? 

She coughed. 

The trees were burning. The ground was charred. He was still screaming. 

And then her back hit the ground. The impact knocked the breath out of her. She didn’t move, caught in a daze. She had to move. 

The sky peered through the branches. There was the crackling of fire. She knew how it looked, but she couldn’t see it. 

And then there was a face above hers. She recognised the eyes. A brilliant green, bright. They were filled with anger. 

“I didn’t recognise her,” he hissed. “Or any of them.” 

There was a pressure on her hand then. Two fingers broke. 

Jungeun didn’t scream. Instead she forced the hand up, gripping his shoulder. Her hand started to burn. 

The sound that left his mouth then made her flinch. She yanked him onto the ground, before encircling his limbs with moonlight. His eyes were quickly filling with terror. 

The strangled shrieks kept coming. She could feel the air changing, but she didn’t let go. Her hand felt numb. His clothes burned. 

“St—stop,” he gasped. “Please.” 

Jungeun stopped. Burns covered the skin on his shoulder, an angry red without blood, as though she’d burned that away too.

Her own hand looked the same, but it was joined with portions of black. Even on the back of it. She hadn’t had a burn like that in so many years. She couldn't feel it, or even the pain of the broken fingers. 

“Do you know what happened?” Jungeun asked. 

He was crying. He might’ve still been able to use his magic, but he wasn’t. Or he couldn’t. “You killed them—all of them.” 

“Why?” She’d seen those same eyes fill with agony. She knew how they’d looked when the life had left them. 

He didn’t answer. 

“Answer me.” She summoned a blade of moonlight in her other hand. 

“One of yours was killed.” He coughed once. “But that was deserved.” 

Jungeun saw the wound where her dagger had got him in the chest. She sank the moonlight into it. 

He screamed. 

“So you knew I killed them,” Jungeun said. “And you don’t know why.” She ripped the blade out. It melted into her skin. 

He was shaking his head. “If you’re going to kill me, kill me.” 

He didn’t know why. He’d come alone. They didn’t send him. They couldn’t have. 

She pulled him up with her good hand, before driving her other hand into his chin. His head snapped back before he fell back to the ground, unconscious.

She checked his pulse. He was alive. She hadn’t used too much strength. 

Would he live from the other wounds? She checked where the knife had gone. It shouldn’t have reached the heart and he was breathing. 

She saw the burn again. She’d covered others with them, or even worse. It was how they’d always known it was her and not another fire-wielder. 

Her breath was strained. She could feel the pressure within her chest, followed by a stinging pain. From her leg came a dull agony.

“Jungeun?” 

She looked up, getting to her feet immediately. Pain shot through her chest again. Broken ribs. “You were supposed to go.” 

But that meant he could be healed before he was sent back, didn’t it? 

Jungeun nearly shrank away from their gazes. There was fire in the trees still. She took it away. The ground was partially ash, but only in patches. 

“He needs to go to his people," Jungeun said. He’d come back, maybe with more. “He needs to be healed.” 

His people had known what had happened before it had. They’d planned it. They’d agreed to take her, to torture her, and then—

“Your hand.” Jinsoul was in front of her now. 

Jungeun stepped back. “It’ll heal.” She looked to the fallen elf. “He needs it more than I do.” Yerim was peeling away his shirt, or tatters of it. There were other burns Jungeun hadn’t seen. They weren’t as red. 

“Can you feel anything, or move it?” Jinsoul asked. She sounded scared. “Getting back any of that will take years without magic.” 

It was good if she was weaker. 

“Just let me put a bit of water on it,” Jinsoul said. “I don’t know what happens if you leave it untreated for too long.” 

“I burned him,” Jungeun walked past her and to the elf, “that’s the same burn.” 

“No it isn’t. We’ll get him healed fully, before sending him back. I need—let me heal your hand.” The fear had left her voice. It was the voice she usually used when she healed another. 

Jungeun watched as Yerim started to carve a healing rune into the ground. Yerim would right the trees again. She’d had to do it before. Now she’d heal the burn Jungeun had made. It looked like a brand in the shape of her hand. 

“I know how,” Jinsoul said. “Just let me.”

She knew how. 

Jungeun shook her head. “You can’t.” 

She frowned, both worry and confusion filling her eyes. Jungeun remembered when they'd been filled with anger. That outrage should've never left. 

”These were the burns you healed before.” 

How could Jinsoul look at her and not see all of those burns? How could she see Jungeun's hand and want to heal it?

Jinsoul’s brow furrowed. Then her eyes widened. “Jungeun, wait—I didn’t mean—“ 

“You did.” Jungeun was cold. After a burn, you lost your own heat. She hadn’t had that in a while. “The ones you helped, the ones you couldn’t save, you—“ 

“He doesn’t need to be saved,” Jinsoul said then, voice sharpened ever so slightly. Her eyes were warm. “Neither do you. These’re just burns and they're ones you’ll both heal from.” 

He’d pleaded for her to stop. He hadn’t even tried to kill her when she had. He’d only wanted the pain to stop. He'd wanted to survive her.

“Jungeun.” There was a glow in the air. “Hold this.” 

She watched as a piece of moonlight flew from Yerim to her. It fell into her good hand, giving her warmth. She wanted to drop it. 

Warm fingers were on her arm. They didn’t go around her wrist, but they were close to it. 

“Please,” Jinsoul‘s voice was still so gentle, “let me.” The water was already there, gently glowing with threads of moonlight. 

Jungeun didn’t say anything. She didn’t move when Jinsoul slowly turned her hand over so that the palm faced up. She ignored how Jinsoul gasped. 

How much did you see? she wanted to ask. She didn’t want to know the answer, but she couldn’t see it in either of their faces. Did that mean they’d seen little? Or that they were hiding it?

The water started to wrap around her hand. 

Jungeun pulled away. “Stop.” She flinched. The water fell away. “I need to see if anyone else is here.” 

Jinsoul took a step forward. 

“Please," Jungeun said. The word made her feel sick. 

Jinsoul nodded. Her eyes didn’t leave Jungeun’s.

She left then. She felt pathetic, limping through the forest, cradling a mangled hand that’d been burned by her own magic. Flames hadn’t hurt her since she was a child, one scared by the roaring flames and heat she hadn’t been able to control.

Jungeun forced back her tears and kept walking. 

_____

She found her cradling her hand. She’d wrapped it in moonlight, but the skin was still mottled. It would’ve looked like that even if she’d let Jinsoul heal her, but it might’ve not hurt as much. 

Jinsoul went over to her. Her head was pounding, but it was slowly getting better. 

Jungeun looked up. There was so little light in her eyes. Then the corner of her lip tugged up. “Done for the night?” 

She nodded, lifting a waterskin. “Want some?” It was for the pain, but she didn’t say that. 

Thankfully, Jungeun accepted it. 

Jinsoul sat down beside her. The air wasn’t warm. She forced herself not to look at her hand. 

“Yerim sent him through the earth. We also had a piece of moonlight with him.” Yerim had gone to talk to Hyunjin about something. She’d been getting closer to both Hyunjin and Hyejoo now, going on repeated patrols too. It was a far cry to how it’d been in the beginning. 

“A warning,” Jungeun said. She sounded tired. 

“A message.”

She looked down away, swallowing once. 

Jinsoul wanted to reach for her. Instead she started making tea. 

Jungeun didn’t say anything, but she made the flame rise higher to reach the pot. It still had flickers of red. 

She dropped the leaves into the water, letting it swirl and diffuse. 

Jungeun summoned two cups of moonlight and Jinsoul filled them. Holding the light, Jinsoul felt her headache ease a little bit more. 

“Isn’t this what you give for colds?” 

“If your hand gets infected, then you might need it.” 

Jungeun was quiet. 

Had she said the wrong thing? 

“Is the light not enough?” Jungeun looked at the waterskin. “And this?” 

“To heal the muscle, to get the feeling and control back—you need more of it.”

“You mean I need a healer.”

Jinsoul shook her head. “You need the runes, ointments, and healing draughts. I can give you those, but the rest you can do yourself.” Just as long as Jungeun wanted it healed, that was alright. “How’s your leg?” 

“I think I hurt it again,” Jungeun said. “Would it be healed by now if I’d have listened to you?” She wasn't looking at her. 

“Maybe?” It’d only been a few weeks. The muscles had to have been mostly healed by now, but the bone was still fragile. The fight must’ve pulled at the weaknesses in it. 

Then Jungeun chuckled, before wincing. Something was wrong with her chest too. “You can say I told you so if you want.” 

“I don’t,” Jinsoul admitted. “But I could cast a quick spell for it?” Or your hand. 

She shook her head. “Not if you have a headache.” She pointed at her forehead. “Which you do.”

Jinsoul lifted a brow. “And how do you know that?” 

“You had a little bit of a tightness in your face when you got here,” Jungeun looked at her, “it’s a little less now, I think, but you still have it.” Her hand drew back and she looked away. 

The pain in her head was a lot less now. She wondered if that’d be enough for Jungeun to let her heal her.

“I’ll do it.” Jungeun started tracing in a healing rune into the ground. A sheet of light appeared in the next moment, wrapping around her leg. 

Jinsoul watched as Jungeun grimaced slightly, before the tension in her face eased a bit after she cast it. 

“I’m sorry for earlier,” Jungeun said. “You both wanted to help and I,” she paused, “I left you there.” 

Jinsoul actually thought it’d been better that Jungeun hadn’t stayed there. A part of her was still surprised that Jungeun had spared him. The other felt ashamed for even thinking that. 

She hadn’t left them either. She’d helped herself. 

“It’s alright,” Jinsoul said. It wasn’t enough, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything that would lead to another discussion. She wanted to tell her that her having healed those burns before didn’t mean that Jungeun’s own burns couldn’t be healed. 

Jungeun nodded, but it wasn’t in agreement. She didn’t want a discussion either. Jinsoul wasn’t sure what she wanted. Was it good that she was there? Or was she supposed to leave now?

“Did you eat yet?” Jungeun asked, nodding at one of the many pots they’d placed around the fire. Those heated better than moonlight did. “Heejin’s pot still has some sort of bread soaked in egg. They put bananas on it, even used up Hyunjin’s stock of chocolate.” 

Jinsoul leaned forward and opened it. She was greeted with a wonderful scent. “How was it?”

“I ate four pieces.” She leaned forward and opened the lid of another. “But I think you should probably have something before hand. Leave it for dessert.” 

“I might want to have two pieces,” Jinsoul fished one out with her fork, carefully not to let it drip too much. 

Jungeun gave her a tiny smile, before lifting her good hand. Jinsoul felt the air warm slightly, before the crust of the bread started to curl a bit. Then the air was colder again. 

They were quiet as Jinsoul started to eat. Jungeun had turned her attention to a map she hadn’t noticed was there. 

“Where is that?” Jinsoul asked. 

“Americas,” Jungeun replied. “Southern part.” She traced along a winding stretch of blue that went through almost the entire northern part of the landmass. “I don’t know exactly, but I think that’s one of the largest rivers in the world.” Her eyes were distant. “I want to see it.” 

“Have you ever been to that continent?” Jinsoul knew they were close to a specific subject. It was one she didn’t really want to address. 

She nodded. “But I steered clear of the rainforest. Used to think it’d be a prime place for,” she stopped, coughing once. She winced, one hand twitching to her side. Broken ribs. She didn’t finish the sentence. 

“Used to?” Jinsoul repeated. She wondered if Jungeun wasn’t saying more, because she was once again too aware of her own actions. She wondered if Jungeun would start trying to hide more because of what had happened. She hoped that wouldn’t be true. 

“After I went to the southern ice planes,” Jungeun shrugged, “a jungle doesn’t feel like it’ll be all that terrifying.” 

“You’ve also been in the ocean,” she added. 

Jungeun met her eyes, giving another small nod. “I have.” She looked back to the map and rolled it up with her good hand. “What happens when it’s humid? Can you change it?”

“I usually don’t,” Jinsoul said. “Especially when I can make the air cooler that way. I can’t do that when it’s dry.” 

“Air-wielders can’t really do much about it directly,” Jungeun said. The mention of an air wielder didn't seem to bother her. “They have to push that air up, hoping they’ll move it away, but it’ll end up coming back.” She wrinkled her nose. 

“I’m guessing it’s uncomfortable for you too?”

The corner of her lip twitched upwards. “Very. It’s weirdly warm, it doesn’t leave my skin for long, and I breathe it in too.” She tossed the map to several other rolls of paper on the ground. 

“When we go there, I can get rid of what’s around you,” Jinsoul said. She set down her plate. She hadn’t been able to finish the second one. 

Jungeun looked up then. Jinsoul couldn’t read that. Had she said something wrong? 

“You’d want to go?” She sounded surprised. 

“I would,” Jinsoul said. “Wouldn’t you?” For a moment, she wondered if that had shifted as well. Would Jungeun not want the three of them to go anywhere anymore? Would the risk of someone coming after her stop that?

Jungeun’s gaze fell again. Jinsoul saw then that she was afraid of that. 

“It isn’t different than before,” Jungeun said quietly. “But it feels like that.” 

Jinsoul almost asked her what she meant, but Jungeun’s eyes were on her hand. 

“I don’t know why it’s changed,” she shook her head, “it shoulnd't—her death shouldn’t have changed it.” Her voice wasn’t faltering. “Not that.”

“Everything can change,” Jinsoul replied. “They’re usually the centre of so much of our life. At first. Losing them doesn’t just lead to grief.” Was she doing the right thing in addressing it? Or was she supposed to move on from it?

Jungeun looked confused. Then there was the realisation. pressed into a line, but she didn’t avoid her eyes this time. There was a question in her eyes. 

“I couldn’t go into the sea after my father died,” Jinsoul said. “It didn’t matter if I was on the opposite side of the world.” Then she paused. “Do you want to hear this?” 

“Only if you want to tell me,” Jungeun replied. 

Jinsoul looked to see if there was a falter in her expression. Was Jungeun saying that for her sake or Jinsoul’s?

Jungeun nodded then. Jinsoul still didn’t know which question that answered. 

“My dad was killed in the sea,” Jinsoul said. They’d executed him, but she didn’t say that. 

“Arcsa?” 

“There’s a lot of conflict below the surface,” she replied. “It’s like land. You just don’t see their wars.” 

Jungeun nodded. She still didn’t look as if she wanted to drop the subject, but she also wasn’t making any move to continue it. Jinsoul could’ve described the different societies, how they’d gone in and out of conflicts with each other, or other coastal Arcsans, including Jinsoul’s people. It wasn’t important. Not now.

“My father taught me how to breathe underwater,” Jinsoul said. “How to survive the pressures of the deep sea.” She smiled. “He and the others used that to do what they could to help below the surface. When that meant taking a side, they did that too.” Her heart still ached. Even now. “So they took him prisoner when one side lost.” 

Jungeun’s eyes shut for a moment, before opening again. She knew well enough what had happened. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to say it. 

Jinsoul took her good hand. “I couldn’t breathe in salt water for a long time.”

Surprise appeared, before it was replaced by something else. There was a fine line between sympathy and understanding. Sympathy had been what she’d seen the first time she hadn’t been able to save someone. Understanding was when she’d sought out healers to help train her more, because of it. 

Jungeun had that expression now. She wouldn’t try to comfort her, because she knew those wounds were scars now. 

Except Jungeun was the one who’d just lost her mother. 

“Did you have to learn it again?” Jungeun asked. 

It hadn't been about learning it. There'd been training and her mother had tried to ease her into the water as Jinsoul had Jungeun. It hadn't worked then. 

“I needed to learn that it wasn’t the reason I’d lost him.” 

In the next moment, she felt the tears start to form in Jungeun’s eyes. 

“Jungeun,” she started, “I’m sorry, I—”

She shook her head. “It’s good you said that.” She looked to the sky then. “You’re right.” She squeezed her hand. 

Then why does it feel like I made it worse? Jinsoul held her words back. 

“She said I looked happier.” Jungeun’s eyes were glassy, but the expression in them hadn’t faltered. “I think she was right.” 

What could she say to that? Jungeun had looked happier than Jinsoul had seen her be before. There’d been a new lightness to her smiles then. 

That’d been before. No smile she’d had after had had any of that light. 

“Fire’s always been inherent to why my life is the way it is,” Jungeun said. “It’s not this time, but it’s still been changed.” Her burnt hand was on her lap. It hadn’t moved. 

It felt like ice had settled into her chest then. She remembered when Thea had tried to tell her more about Jungeun’s life. She remembered how Thea had felt responsible for it. 

“But it’s not the reason she’s gone.” Jungeun closed her eyes. Tears fell. She lifted her hand to her face and wiped them away. When she opened them, the look in her eyes almost made Jinsoul look away. 

She knew why. There were ten others who were gone.

_____

The reason for it hadn’t been subtle at all, but it’d been decided that they’d go to the sea. All eleven of them. 

Haseul had brought the idea to them with a broad grin, but it’d been impossible to miss the hope in her eyes. 

At first, they’d wanted to go to a random part of the ocean, but after Jinsoul had told them the waters were safest around land-based Arcsan camps, they’d agreed to go to her people. 

But they’d set up camp a small way’s away. Sooyoung had insisted it was because Chaewon and Hyejoo would end up making enemies of Arcsans if they were allowed to roam free, while Haseul just said eleven Astrans in one place was alarming to some people. 

That hadn’t meant they’d not seen their people. A group, no doubt led by either Sehun or Eunbi, had come along with enough food and drink that Jiwoo’s and Hyejoo’s screeches of excitement would’ve alerted just about anyone within miles, even under the surface. 

Hyunjin and Heejin had looped Jungeun in with them for an Arcsan game none of them understood. Jungeun hadn’t touched any of the drink, but there was still a bit more ease in how she carried herself. No matter how slight it was, it was enough. Hyunjin hadn’t been one of the people to express her worries about Jungeun, but she hadn’t left her side today. 

Jinsoul had been pulled into rounds of conversation herself, mostly for her to explain a story from her ‘youth’, as Yerim liked to put it. 

“They laughed when I started talking about Argus,” Hyewon said. “Did you tell them about him?”

Jinsoul sent Yeojin and Chaewon a pointed look. “Not him,” she replied. “They’re all convinced befriending a sea slug is hilarious.” 

She frowned. “But they’re,” she glanced at the other two, “how did you even describe them?”

Jinsoul had an idea then. “How many do you think you could take there?” she asked it in arcesh. Chaewon would understand a small amount of it, but not enough to spoil the surprise. “Or is that not allowed?”

Hyewon grinned. “It’s allowed.” She looked over. “How many do we take?” 

She wanted to say all of them, but she didn’t think it’d be the best idea. 

“Yerim!” She waved to her. 

The girl in question ran over, her eyes bright. 

“Feel like meeting the sea slugs I told you about?” 

Yerim’s smile grew, amusement flashing across her face. “Definitely.” 

Jinsoul nodded to Hyewon. “Don’t let the fish come. I want us to be able to come back here without them being scared.” 

Hyewon bowed her head. “We’ll have fun, don’t worry.” 

Jinsoul wasn’t sure if she trusted the look in her eyes, but the other three looked excited enough. 

She watched them go into the ocean, still chattering. It was very different to when another had gone into the water with her. 

Jinsoul looked back, only to see her at Haseul’s side now. She was smiling. 

So she went into the water herself. 

In the distance, she could hear Hyewon explaining something, before there was a brief shriek, followed by a chorus of laughter. Chaewon was laughing too, but Jinsoul heard a few curses in between that too. 

She swam a bit deeper into the sea, letting herself hover in the water for a few minutes. A fish came by. It asked her if she was alright. 

She hadn’t said it aloud much, but she missed the creatures of the ocean. There might’ve been moments where she couldn’t say certain things, mostly because they didn’t really understand what humans were, let alone spirits, because they couldn’t see them. 

She surfaced after meeting a whale’s new daughter. She could hear the chatter and the laughter from the beach. She swam in the other direction. 

Her mother was where she usually was, sitting on the shore atop a large rocky platform. About two centuries before, someone had told her she would never be able to move rock with the current. She’d carved out a large piece of stone from beneath the surface and dragged it onto the beach. It was practically her study now. 

“I never would’ve thought there’d be Astran festivities here.” Lanah grinned. “I’d go, but I think the age is still well under mine.” 

She had a sneaking suspicion of why her mother hadn’t come further down the beach, but she didn’t say it.

Jinsoul smiled. “Just a few centuries.” 

A large drop of water fell over her head. 

Then her mother pulled her into her arms. 

Jinsoul sank into them. 

“How’s Jungeun?” Lanah brushed a hand through her hair.

She pulled away. “How did you know?”

“Thea might not have had the same stories around her like her daughter, but many knew of her.” A pause. “And what happened after.” 

Jinsoul winced. It would be another story they’d tell. It wasn’t one anyone could exaggerate or excuse. No one could look past it. 

“And that’s why you’re here?” 

Jinsoul nodded. “It actually wasn’t my idea.” That the others had decided the ocean was the place to come was a surprise in and of itself. 

“And she isn’t afraid of the water?” Lanah looked out at it. “I thought fire elves were weakened by it.”

“She was afraid,” Jinsoul said. Terrified. She hadn't really told anyone about that. “But now that she’s seen more, it’s,” she hesitated, “different.” She remembered how at ease she’d seemed when they’d been on the beach, but also on the ice.

Lanah smiled. “You shouldn’t be here long then,” she pulled the water from Jinsoul’s hair and clothes, “they’ll be missing you.” 

“I love you.” Jinsoul gave her one more hug. 

“I love you too,” Lanah murmured. “So much."

There were hints of singing joining the night. Either Jiwoo had decided to pull Sooyoung and Haseul in for the festivities, or Eunbi had instigated something. She’d find out soon enough. 

Jinsoul jogged back. 

Chaewon immediately pounced on her. “You didn’t tell me they were as big as horses!” she screamed in her ear. “And they glow?” She was punching her arm. 

Jinsoul laughed. Loud. 

Yeojin joined in, while Yerim was staying back. Hyejoo was beside her and they were both laughing. 

“I told you they’re wonderful creatures,” Jinsoul said. “But that includes the tiny ones.” She pushed them both off her, massaging the spaces that’d been punched. Chaewon had probably landed most of them. 

“Next time you tell us about some friend of yours, you better tell us if it’s the size of a bear or not.” Yeojin gave her a look, before pulling her up. “And I need more tours of the ocean.” 

Jinsoul smiled. “You’ll get them,” she promised. “Want one now?”

She shuddered. “It was terrifying seeing it for the first time.”

It was such a familiar sight. Jinsoul kept her smile there. “Then we leave it for next time.” She squeezed her arm before looking at the rest who were there. Hyejoo was dragging Yeojin to the bonfire in the centre. She was gushing about a food from below the surface. Jinsoul had seen her excited before, but to have it be here at her old home over things she’d grown up with, she felt a wave of emotion rise within her.

She didn’t find her at first. There were a few elves here with lighter hair, but it didn’t take long for her to know they weren’t her. She’d almost started looking for her along the beach when she saw her sitting on the other side of the bonfire. Her eyes were on the flames and Jinsoul saw she was moving parts around it around, including the sparks that rose at the top. No one was beside her this time, but she saw how people looked over, either concerned, confused, or wondering if they could approach her or not.

Jungeun caught her eye and gave her a small smile, before looking back at the fire. There was nothing cold about it or even subdued, but it was a clear message. 

So Jinsoul didn’t go over to her. She went instead to where Hyunjin was. 

And then they demanded a demonstration of the drinking game, except they had to take one Astran with them. Since Jinsoul was both, she had to take two people along with her. 

That meant that when she lost, she was dragging a terrified Heejin and Hyunjin through the water. They saw a whale and promptly demanded to go back to the surface. Both shared the punishment of a large cask of a drink only produced in the underwater Arcsan cities. They spat it out at the same time too. 

Jungeun had come to her side after they’d surfaced. The air was a little warmer this time. When Jungeun’s arm brushed hers, she realised her skin shared that warmth too. 

_____

Jinsoul woke with what might’ve been the worse headache of the century. It was the type she could relieve by swimming as far as she could into the depths, before coming back. Or she could drink light-infused water. 

Or both, she thought, cleaning her teeth. Jungeun was fast asleep, strewn across the bedroll, but there were no burn marks across it. 

Yerim wasn’t there, even though it was barely late afternoon yet. 

Jinsoul left the tent, only to see three people passing a telescope around, staring at it with wide eyes. 

“Hi?” 

They jumped, immediately turning to her. 

“Find something on the beach?” Jinsoul asked, nodding to the object they held. 

“Um,” Hyejoo looked to the other two, “yeah?” 

Jinsoul lifted a brow. 

“How did they get this to work?” Hyunjin asked. “I can see the waves all the way over there.” She pointed at the horizon. “I even saw people from the camp. Their faces. All the way from here.” 

“Glass and metal,” Jinsoul said. “The way they explained it at the time was they used mirrors and specific lenses.” 

“What’s a lens?” Hyejoo lifted a brow. 

“Something made out of glass,” she replied. “I stopped understanding it after they tried to explain why the mirror’s used.” Then she nodded at the compass Yerim was holding. “Where’d you get that?” 

“Can we tell her?” Yerim asked, looking to Hyunjin and Hyejoo. 

Hyunjin shrugged. “It was your idea.” Despite the nonchalance, there was a bright smile on her face. 

All three of them looked excited. Yerim had a little bit of hesitance in her eyes. 

It made Jinsoul feel more than a little nervous. 

“See that?” Hyunjin pointed down the coast. 

She looked, only to see a very familiar form. “There’s a boat here?” Were there any mortals nearby? It was risky being on this area. Sailors knew that well enough. It wasn’t like the elves in the Mediterranean and other parts of the sea, ones where mortals had made stories about monsters or temptresses on the coasts. 

“Yours,” Hyejoo said. “Technically ours, because we’ll probably end up—ow!” She scowled at Hyunjin. “It’s true.” 

“We looked for ships that was big enough for a group, but were still small enough that you wouldn’t need a huge crew.” Yerim was leaning from one foot to another. She looked nervous.

Jinsoul smiled. “Are you forgetting that I don’t need sails? Or a crew?” Even if she’d had one before. 

“But what if you don’t have time?” Hyunjin threw an arm around her shoulders. “Then we’ll be scrambling on one of those huge ships, more incapable than mortals.” She grimaced. “Sounds horrible.” 

“And why’s it mine?" Jinsoul asked. "At least in the non-technical sense?” 

“You have first priority for it!” Yerim’s smile was starting to grow. “You love sailing almost as much swimming.” Then she grabbed her hand. “Come on.” 

And then they were running across the beach. Hyunjin and Hyejoo made it a race, with Hyunjin in the lead, while Yerim laughed at both. Jinsoul wondered then if Yerim had been meant to be part of two groups of three. That‘d be a fate Jinsoul wouldn’t question. 

Hyunjin ended up winning and Hyejoo howled that she’d cheated. Then the two of them straightened at the same time, turning to Jinsoul with hopeful expressions. 

“Do you like it?” Yerim asked. 

The wood barely creaked beneath her feet. Something about it was more comfortable against her skin, either the lack of it burning her toes or the small sloping in the wood. Yerim’s work. 

“I love it.” Jinsoul went to the helm. “How’d you get it?” The sails were almost in perfect condition. It was a brand new ship. 

“First we asked Yeri and she said we’d need a mountain of gold to get a huge one and a slightly smaller one for something like this.” Hyejoo hopped onto the rigging on the side. “But with enough jobs and some connections,” she winked, “we put together the gold and silver for this. And a few bonuses.” She lifted the telescope. “Do you actually use this?” 

Jinsoul nodded. 

Hyejoo leaned forward, holding it to her eye. If she let go, she’d fall straight into the sea. “So, am I the beautiful sailor, or not?” 

“Not.” Hyunjin shook the rigging, making Hyejoo shriek and jump down. One of the started sprinting around the deck, while the other chased her. The telescope had been put down on the ground, out of harm’s way. Jinsoul had no idea when Hyejoo had found the time or the care to do that. 

“So is this where you and the other two start being pirates?” 

“I was thinking all of us, but we don’t tell Haseul what we’re doing,” Yerim replied. “If all ships are like this, I’d be the best pirate of all.” She looked at the mast. 

A rope of wood broke from it and wrapped around Hyunjin, before pulled Hyejoo and her together. Soon after, it broke into several splinters under the force of both elves. 

“You’re lucky we’re surrounded by wood!” Hyunjin called. “When we go to the ice caps, it’s over for you.” Then she met Jinsoul’s eye. “And you’re banned from even touching the snow.” 

Jinsoul grinned. “And what about now?” She brought up some water. She froze it, before scattering it into snow. 

“Especially now!” Hyunjin and Hyejoo disappeared belowdecks. “It’s an unfair advantage and you know it!” Hyunjin shouted from the cover. “And don’t even get me started on those massive things in the ocean.”

“They’re whales!” Jinsoul threw back. 

“They’re terrifying!” Hyunjin’s voice cracked and Hyejoo burst into laughter. There were muffled sounds then and Jinsoul could only assume there’d be another chase. 

“They’re in a good mood,” Yerim chuckled, “Hyunjin was scared you wouldn’t like it.” She looked up at her. “She also thought you’d cry.” 

Jinsoul lifted a brow. “As if she’s not worse than I am. I can feel when she’s holding them back, you know.” 

She gave her a look. 

“Maybe we’re equal,” Jinsoul corrected. “But still.” 

Yerim just smiled and went to the side of the ship facing the sea. 

“So is there some voyage planned?” Jinsoul asked. “Is that why we’re all here?”

“Yes and no?” Yerim’s gaze softened. “We—I thought you and Jungeun would want to spend some time on the ship.” Her hand traced the wood. “Out there, further away from land.” 

“Only us?” Jinsoul wasn’t even sure if she was supposed to frown or smile. 

“If you wanted that,” Yerim added that quickly, “Jungeun can’t exactly sail, but she’s been wanting to be on a ship. And like you said, you don’t need a crew.”

“You think that’d help?” 

“I don’t know,” Yerim replied. “But when the worst parts of my life were tied to water, I went to the mountains.” 

Jinsoul felt a heaviness start to weigh on her. 

Yerim reached for Jinsoul’s hand then. “It’s not like that anymore.”

She’d known that Jinsoul had felt that. Almost immediately. 

“And you love the sea,” Yerim said. “And I want you to be out there.” Then she dropped her eyes. “But only if you want to.” 

Jinsoul squeezed her hand. “I’d love to.” 

Her head rose. “Really?” 

She nodded. “Surprised?”

“Not really,” Yerim said. “But I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.” She looked at the ship. “If I trained for it, I think I could actually move the ship along too, but not for a while.” 

“You don’t want to come?” 

“I do.” She nodded. “Next time.” She looked up at the ropes. “Maybe you can show me a little how to do all this.” She waved her hand and the mast curved to the right, before going to the left. “Because then we’d be able to swap if we went on some voyage together, right?” After a short moment, she said, “and Jungeun could steer?” 

Jinsoul smiled. “We could make her the captain.” 

Yerim grinned. “Or the cook.” 

Jinsoul then pulled her into a tight embrace. “Thank you, Yerim.” 

There were hurried steps too. 

“We paid for a third of it!” 

“Each,” Hyunjin added. 

Jinsoul held out an arm, catching Hyunjin, before Hyejoo was also there. All four of them stumbled, before Hyunjin regained her balance and by effect theirs. 

“Thank you both for this,” Jinsoul said. “But you can keep the compass.”

“And the scope-thing?” 

“We’ll be keeping it.” 

_____

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jinsoul asked.

Jungeun smiled, but it looked tired. “Are you?”

If Jungeun being out at sea this way was something she’d enjoy, then she would be. 

“Yep.”

Jinsoul took her hand and pulled her onto the ship. “It’ll sway.” The others were having lunch. A few of them were very much feeling the effects of the night before, but they'd all taken it well. 

Jungeun laughed softly. “I’ve been on a boat before,” she squeezed her hand, “might not have the best sea legs, but I stopped throwing up the fifth time I went on one.” 

She just shook her head. “But you were still scared of the water?” 

“Terrified.” She looked out at the horizon. “Now I’m just cautious.” When she looked back at her, her smile had grown a bit more. “I wonder who’s to blame for that.” 

Jinsoul hugged her next. She was warm. “I’m glad you came.” She'd almost been nervous when she'd told Jungeun about the boat, but it'd disappeared when her eyes had lit up a bit more and she'd nodded. 

Jungeun slipped her arms around her waist. “So am I.” 

They both pulled away then. Jinsoul almost felt embarrassed. She hadn’t really planned for that. 

Jungeun went across the deck then. She looked over the side. She was holding the telescope and now had it to her eye. 

Jinsoul went to prepare the sails. She didn’t really need them, hence why there wasn’t a crew. She used the water for that. 

“Ready?” Jinsoul called. 

Jungeun looked over her shoulder. The water and blue sky framed her figure. The smile she wore looked a little lighter. “Ready.”

She let the water surge on the side, before propelling them away from the shore. 

Over the sounds of the rushing water, she heard Jungeun laugh. 

______

Jinsoul brought the ship to a slow stop. She went around, dropping the sail so they wouldn’t go somewhere else too quickly. 

She walked over to Jungeun then, who sat at the front, looking past the figurehead. 

“Water propulsion feels a little different from wind,” Jungeun said. “I like it.”

“You’re not sea sick?” 

“A little, but it passed.” 

Jinsoul slung her legs over the side of the ship. 

Jungeun jumped. It almost looked like she was going to catch her. 

“I’d be fine even if I fell overboard,” Jinsoul told her.

“And if the ship hit your head?” Jungeun asked. “It can take a lot, but I’m not sure if it’s manage a whole ship.” She prodded her forehead.

Jinsoul waved it away. “Should we try it out?”

She gave her a look. “That’s not exactly how I’d test out skull durability.” 

“There’s a right way?” 

“Probably not.” Jungeun flicked her forehead. “How’d that feel?” 

Jinsoul rubbed the spot. “It stung.” She frowned at her. “What was that supposed to be?” 

She smiled. “To get that look,” she said. “And to prove that we don’t really need that test.” 

“I’m not sure if that proved anything.” 

Jungeun shrugged. “Just don’t go overboard.” 

“I’ll only do that if you come with me.” She wondered if she’d gone too far. 

Except Jungeun’s expression didn’t change. She nodded. “A little later.” She looked out at the water. “I like it up here too.” 

Jinsoul felt a small rush of relief. “You do?” 

Another nod. 

They watched the ocean then. Jinsoul pointed out where shoals of fish were, or if a whale was going to surface soon. 

And the Jungeun turned to face her fully. “I know why we’re out here,” she said softly. Her hand found Jinsoul’s. “And I really don't think they should've gotten a ship for that. 

“Do you not like it?” Jinsoul felt a flicker of nervousness. Was she doing this all wrong? Should she have just left the boat for another time?

Jungeun laughed softly. “I love it.” She looked out at the sea. “It’s actually nice having something secure under my feet after I know what it’s like to be in there.” She squeezed her hand. “And then being out in the sun too,” she trailed off. “It reminds me a bit of the desert.”

The words hit her a little more than they probably should have. Jungeun loved the desert. 

Jinsoul couldn’t help but wonder what else was like the desert for her. She wanted to know where else she could take her to get Jungeun to feel so relaxed. 

They sat there together, watching the sun travel across the sky, before it started sinking below the horizon.  

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jungeun turn her head to look at her.

“What?” Jinsoul kept her eyes on the sky. 

“I think,” she started, “we could go into the water now. If you want.” 

“Do you want to?” Jinsoul asked. 

A small laugh. “I don’t think I’d ask if I didn’t.” She elbowed her. “But I’m not diving off the edge of a ship. I think you’ll have to push me, or make the water grab me or something.”

“You’d prefer a tentacle of water coming up instead of just diving in?” Jinsoul looked over. 

Jungeun was smiling lightly. “The push might be a little better than that.” 

Jinsoul pushed her off the ship in the next moment. She dove in after her. Jungeun was still smiling when she surfaced. Another time, she would’ve been terrified. 

Jinsoul reached for her arm and pulled her closer. “You need to see what it looks like from below.” 

“The ship?” Jungeun linked their hands. “Or the surface?” 

“Both, but mostly the ship.” She nodded. “Ready?” 

“Ready.”

They sank down into the water. Jungeun still tensed, but she relaxed a lot quicker than before. 

Jinsoul waited until Jungeun opened her eyes. Then she let the current move them a bit further into the ocean. 

“I’ll tell the kraken not to attack,” Jinsoul said.

“The kraken?” Jungeun repeated. Even distorted, it sounded like a squeak. “That exists?”

She lifted a brow. “We’re immortal beings with pointed ears and we exist too.” 

“And this is the kraken, the one that’d torn the ships apart?” 

“There’re several.” Jinsoul stopped them to make a few sounds into the ocean. 

Small jolts came back through the water. Tiny, but she knew they’d be stronger currents where the creature was. 

“Want to meet her?”

“No thank you.” Jungeun’s eyes went up then. They widened. “That already looks like some sort of creature, almost like a whale.” 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jinsoul propelled them around so that the moon was partially hidden behind the boat, but still illuminated the water around it. 

“Beautiful.” The look in her eyes matched the awe in her voice. It also described what Jinsoul saw then. 

Jungeun’s hair spread out into the water. Her eyes were darker than normal, but still bright. She wasn’t glowing, but her skin still caught the light seeping through the water. 

“Where to next?” Jinsoul asked. 

Jungeun looked back at her. “A bit deeper?” 

She let the water take them down. She made sure the water pressure around Jungeun didn’t change too fast. 

“It’s colder.” Jungeun tugged her a bit closer. “I think I can hear more too.” 

Jinsoul let more light onto her skin. She warmed the water some more too. “None are coming because I told them not to. You want to see anyone?” 

“Anyone as in fish, or sea slugs?” 

“Both.” 

Jungeun laughed softly. “I’m guessing we’re not deep enough to see those fish that glow?” 

“Do you want to go further?” Jinsoul asked. “Because all I have to do is make the pressure less for us. Then make it a lot warmer around us.” 

“The other Arcsa won’t think I’m a threat?” 

“If you’re at my side you aren’t, and they usually don’t think any landed are much of a threat.” 

“So they think I’m harmless here?” Jungeun asked. She didn't say anything after that, but Jinsoul had a good idea what it was. 

Jinsoul squeezed her hand and took them further, making sure to alleviate the pressure as it built. 

“It’s so dark,” Jungeun said. She didn’t sound scared. 

“I can’t be too bright,” Jinsoul replied. “Otherwise I’d scare the fish.”

“Really?” 

“They’ve never seen sunlight, let alone moonlight. Only fluorescence, if even that.” 

Jungeun’s eyes still glowed in the ocean. Jinsoul was still surprised that she wasn’t scared yet. The deepest parts of the sea had been terrifying for many, even those accustomed to the water. 

“Do a lot of fish have that glow?” Jungeun asked. 

“No,” she said. “But enough.” She brought them to a stop. “I’ll tell them to give us a small show,” she whispered. Then she looked for the shoal of fish that’d been dancing around the area during their descent. She spoke to them for a bit. They were eager to tell her about how they’d distracted another predator. They wanted to appear directly in front of Jungeun’s face, but she told them not to. 

Then it began. 

Jinsoul heard Jungeun gasp. 

The fish swam in patterns, shooting out fluorescent packets that made themselves visible only at the end of their journey. It was almost like a firework display. 

And then one appeared in front of them. Fluorescence was shot off to the side of them too. 

Jungeun yelped and huddled into her side. 

Jinsoul frowned at the fish. “They’re having a bit too much fun.” 

“I can hear something,” Jungeun muttered. “Please say it’s just a whale.” 

Jinsoul listened, focusing the currents a bit more. “Not a whale. Want to go back up?” 

“Wait,” Jungeun’s eyes were wide, “what is it?” 

“Scavengers,” Jinsoul whispered, “they might be having a whale for dinner.” 

She swatted her arm. “Do not say that when we’re this far down.” 

Jinsoul laughed slightly. “Alright, I won’t tell them we’re here.” She slowly started to lift them up. “But you would see a six-gilled shark.” 

She didn’t have to see her to know she was shaking her head. 

“Next time.” 

Jinsoul lightly tapped her head to Jungeun’s. “Okay.” 

They were quiet as they rose through the water. Jinsoul made sure to move them back in the direction of the ship. 

At one point, Jungeun had huddled a bit closer to her, her head partially resting on her shoulder. 

It was nice to be there with her. Jinsoul felt happy knowing Jungeun felt safe enough in the ocean to actually want to see the depths like that. It reminded her of how she’d started: scared to look out at it and barely willing to put a foot into the water. Unless there was a push.

Then they surfaced. The moon was directly above the ship, the light bleeding into the water around them as well. 

“Can we stay here?”

Jinsoul warmed the water. 

“It’s weird not seeing land anywhere,” Jungeun said softly. “It makes everything else feel further away.” She looked up at her. “Is it like that for you, or different because it’s like the land for you?” 

“Both,” Jinsoul said. “Depends on where I’m spending most of my time.” 

“So now it’s like how it feels for me? At least a little?” There was a hint of hesitance again. 

“More than a little,” Jinsoul replied. 

Jungeun’s eyes were still on her. There was a warmth in them that Jinsoul knew she’d seen before, but couldn’t remember where. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Jungeun whispered. 

Jinsoul hardly knew what to say then. There was a ticklish sensation in too. 

“I mean that.” She was still talking. “Being by the river, or in the ocean, but it’s something. Something good—great actually.”

“Something,” Jinsoul repeated, smiling slightly. 

Jungeun chuckled, glancing at the water around them. “You always look at home here, or in a river,” she said. “You look happy.” She smiled lightly. “That’s one of the reasons I love coming here.” Her eyes had started to glow a bit more. 

Jinsoul couldn't find any words to say. 

There was something almost strange about tonight. It was so quiet. Jinsoul barely knew how far away the next bit of land was. Even with the creatures below, they were still alone. 

Jinsoul pushed away some of Jungeun’s hair, taking some of the water that still clung to it. “Are you cold?” She let her hand stay on the side of Jungeun’s face. 

Jungeun shook her head. She put her hand over Jinsoul’s, lightly squeezing it. 

A deep ache settled into her heart then. Jinsoul almost pulled away, but she didn’t want to. Not now. 

“Are you?” Jungeun asked. Even though there was no one else to hear them, she spoke quietly. 

“Not when you’re here.” 

There was a gentle smile then. All it managed to do was make the ache stronger. 

Jinsoul wanted to lean forward. She almost did. 

Except Jungeun was still grieving. Being out here had been for her, not the two of them. Not really.

“But I think a cup of tea would do us some good?” Jungeun was still whispering.

Jinsoul let the water carry them up, before she stepped off the wave she made, pulling Jungeun with her. 

She took the water from both of them, but left her own hair wet. She always liked the feeling. 

“I’ll go make it.” Jungeun gave her a small smile. She started to let go. 

Jinsoul started walking with her. “Want moonlight in it too?”

Jungeun didn’t let go of her hand. “Sounds good.” 

They made tea. Neither of them let go of the other. Jinsoul wondered if it was strange that she didn’t want to. She wondered if Jungeun wanted to let go. 

Except she hadn’t either. 

They sat on the deck again. Jungeun had brought a packet of sweet light brown squares. She called them caramels, apparently from a country in the European continent. 

“I found them a few years ago, apparently new there.” Jungeun popped one in . “So I got a large packet every year.” She smiled slightly. “I meant to share, but—“ She looked down. 

Had it not been dark, Jinsoul knew her ears would’ve been a pale pink. 

“You eat a lot,” Jinsoul tapped her leg with her foot, “and you’ve got a surprising sweet tooth.” She ate another, enjoying how it slowly melted on her tongue. There were hints of salt on It too. “It’s almost a crime that you didn’t share this with us. Yerim will be mad.” 

“I have an extra bag at home,” Jungeun replied. “And you need to stop me from indulging. Then Yerim will get a few.” 

“A few?” Jinsoul repeated. “I think we should expect equal shares.” 

She gave her a look. “Fat chance of that,” she stuck out her tongue, “I paid for all of this and did the trek from Europe to here.” 

“You went through the earth for that one,” Jinsoul told her. “So it doesn’t count.” 

“I’m getting close to pushing you in,” Jungeun nodded at the ocean, “I owe you that.” 

“And I could flip this ship.” 

There was a flicker of surprise, before Jungeun laughed. “Alright! Equal shares. Promise.” 

It was so nice to hear her laugh. Properly too. 

“You gave up the extra sweets very quickly.” 

She was still chuckling. “It’s a big bag,” she said. “Even a third is more than enough for me.” She bit the next one in half and sighed, smiling slightly. 

“You like them that much?” Jinsoul asked. 

“You don’t?” Jungeun was already reaching for the one in her hand. 

She held it out of reach. “I do!” 

She eyed her for a long moment, before pulling her hand back. “Good, because you only get one third if you really like them.”

“It can’t be deserved?” Jinsoul asked. “For all my hard work?”

“Then I’d have to give Haseul some too,” Jungeun shook her head, “but I’m leaving that for Seul’s birthday.” 

Jungeun belonged to the surprisingly sizeable group of immortals who celebrated birthdays. She’d tried to bring it up with Jinsoul, who usually said no to any sort of celebration. 

Yerim enjoyed it, still young enough, as well as enthusiastic enough, to have not gotten completely fed up of them. 

The one strange thing, but also not that surprising, was that when Jungeun's birthday came, the most there was were several bottles of wine, but that was it. 

“She’ll be happy with that.” Jinsoul ate the rest of hers.

There was a surprisingly light conversation then, one including Jungeun describing several birthdays, even the last one Chaewon had celebrated. She’d insisted on her two hundredth being the best ever and had had it in the mountains, inviting just about anyone to make sure it was filled with music and other drinks. 

“She begged me to give her fireworks too,” Jungeun said, a broad smile on her face. “So I made one with all the colours I could think off, even a few shapes that they had to guess.” She chuckled. “Couldn’t guess it because I’m not an artist, but it was hilarious seeing Sooyoung insist that the wolf I made was actually a chicken.”

“Chickens have two feet.”

Jungeun nodded. “Drawing’s a talent I don’t have.” 

Jinsoul frowned. “It can’t have been that bad.” A part of her couldn’t really see Jungeun being bad at something. 

And then Jungeun lifted her hands, her eyes suddenly glowing like a fire, but not as vivid.

The sky was suddenly filled with light as deep blue flames expanded across it. They came together then, almost looping like ribbons with each other, before they made a figure. 

A figure where she had no idea what it was. She could make out a leg and what looked like a crooked arm, or was it two? 

Then a dot of the eye and a squiggle below it. 

Laughter bubbled out of before she could stop it. She laughed into the silent space around them. 

Jungeun joined her, but pushed her at the same time, steadying her, before she could slip off and into the sea. “It’s terrible, I know.”

“And that’s supposed to be a wolf?” Jinsoul got out, still giggling. 

“This time a chicken.” 

Jinsoul stared at her. “Really?”

She laughed again. “No, I actually tried to make it a wolf. I thought it’d be better this time, but I was wrong.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “Unless you’re just a really strict judge.” 

Jinsoul lifted her hands in surrender. “I just think you should leave drawing to others. Like Heejin.” Somehow, that girl was able to make things just short of art with moonlight. She didn’t do it much, but Jinsoul had seen a few of the sculptures she’d worked on when she was bored. 

“Gladly,” Jungeun said. Her smile was a bit less, but still just as warm. 

They sat in silence after that, but it was comfortable again. 

Jungeun broke the silence again. “Thank you for this.” 

Jinsoul looked over. “The boat was Yerim, Hyunjin, and Hyejoo."

“I didn't mean that.” Jungeun moved closer, shifting to face her. She didn’t seem to mind how close she was to tipping overboard. “For coming to get me after, for,” she faltered, before a new sort of certainty came over her expression. “For not leav—for not leaving after you’d seen what I did.” 

Jinsoul started to shake her head. “You—”

She lifted a hand. “Don’t start excusing what happened. Please.” Her eyes were still bright, but a familiar guilt was there. “Don't say I was only getting my revenge, that I was lost in my grief. Not like the others did.” She lowered her head. “I just lost control. I wanted them dead and I wanted them to feel as much pain as I could give them before they did.” 

Again it was quiet. Jinsoul could feel how Jungeun wanted to say more. She waited, even if the words threatened to spew from her own mouth. They’d probably make things worse. 

“I can’t change how people view any of it,” Jungeun said. Her eyes were dim. “Just like how they can’t change how I do.” She looked to the ocean once, before turning back to Jinsoul. “But I keep asking myself if people can only look at me, because they excuse what I’ve done.” A pause. “Is that what you have to do?” Her expression cracked then, giving way to doubt. “Do you have to think up reasons for why I’ve done what I have to," the words were shaky, "to even look me in the eye?” 

Jinsoul’s eyes were burning again. She forced herself not to look away. “No,” she said. “What I’ve learned about you didn’t change what you did before. What I saw in the forest, or when I saw your nightmares, didn’t change it either.” She let her fingers curl around the wood beneath them. “I just started to understand it. There’s a difference.” 

“Is there?” she asked. “Because I’ve had friends tell me they understood, but the next time I came back from a task or some glorified massacre, they told me the same thing after they’d celebrated my triumph.” Her voice shook at the last word. Disgust had filled her eyes. 

“I’ll never know what that feels like,” Jinsoul said. “I don't think I'll ever be able to understand it and I don’t ever want to.” 

Jungeun didn’t flinch. That gave Jinsoul the push to continue. 

“But I know it hurts you. I know you’ll keep doing it and there’s a part of me that’ll never understand why you do, but I can’t change that.” She grit her teeth.

If she'd told Jungeun what she’d wanted at first, maybe she’d just think those were more excuses when they weren’t. Maybe Jungeun thought every reason someone saw behind her actions was some sort of excuse.

"And I don’t know how to say any of this to you properly,” Jinsoul admitted. “If I think about the people in the past that you’ve killed, I’ll still wish they were alive. If I think about the stories your people tell, they’ll always feel wrong to applaud, because I can’t respect those things.” 

Jungeun didn’t say anything. Her eyes weren’t teary anymore either. She almost looked calm. 

“But I can still respect you,” Jinsoul said. “Because I know who you are, what else you can do—what scares you, what you love.” She reached for one of Jungeun’s hands. 

She didn’t pull away this time. 

“I don’t know if those are supposed to be contradictions, because they don’t feel like that. Not anymore." Jinsoul took the time to gather her words. “But it’s not because I’m ignoring something and it's not because I’m excusing what you’ve done either.” 

There was a weight tugging at . It felt like there was something else she should say, but she didn’t know what it was. 

Jinsoul kept silent then. The weight sank into her chest, settling in there.

“How?” Jungeun asked. 

“How?” Jinsoul repeated. 

“How’re there no excuses?” Her eyes were glassy now. “Why don’t you hate me? I’m everything you should hate.” 

“You’re not,” Jinsoul pulled her off the side of the ship and stood, “there’s so much more about you that I could never hate.” She took Jungeun’s other hand. “I just needed to see those things and I do now.” 

Jungeun looked away then. Jinsoul felt the tears come then. She saw them drip onto the deck. 

She pulled her closer then, lifting one hand to her cheek. She tilted her head up, before kissing her forehead. 

“You’re like the ocean to me,” Jinsoul whispered against her skin, before pulling away. 

Jungeun stilled. Her heart had already been pounding, but Jinsoul could almost hear it more clearly now. 

“There’s parts of you that are dangerous, could scare some, but there’s so much beauty as well.” Again, she waited until she found the right words. “It took some time for me to trust you, but I did. Not because I ignored what was below the surface, but because I learned more about you.” 

Jungeun eyes lifted to hers. Tears swam in them, but Jinsoul didn’t take them away. She just brushed a thumb over her cheek. 

“I’m not excusing anything,” Jinsoul said. “I don’t have to and I don’t want to either.” 

She didn’t say anything. Her eyes were still on Jinsoul’s and she knew she was trying to see if she was lying or not. She didn’t believe what she’d said, but Jinsoul had the sneaking suspicion that she didn’t believe anyone when they said something like that. Even then, it stung that Jungeun doubted her. 

Jungeun let out a long breath. Some of the tension seemed to fall away with it. 

Jinsoul pulled her into her arms. Jungeun leaned into her almost immediately, her arms coming around her waist. Her head rested on her shoulder. 

“Do you mean that?” Jungeun asked quietly. 

“I do.” 

Jungeun’s grip on her tightened ever so slightly. Jinsoul felt a pang in her chest then, as if something had cracked. She ignored it. 

Jinsoul knew there was nothing else she’d say now. There wasn’t really anything she could say without it being something Jungeun probably wouldn’t want to hear. 

Nothing else broke the silence then. They just stood there, gently swayed by the waves pushing the ship along. Jungeun was warm, warmer than she had been in the ocean and in the weeks before. Even through the smell of the sea, she still smelled of a warm fire and smoke. It was nothing like the forest, even if that memory still clung to Jungeun. It still flickered across Jinsoul’s eyes too, but it wasn’t her memory. 

Slowly, Jinsoul felt how Jungeun began to lean away. She let go. 

Jungeun’s eyes were a bit brighter than before, but nothing like they’d been when they’d been in the ocean. 

And then she smiled. It was only small, but it warmed Jinsoul’s heart to see. 

“I don’t think I can tell you how much that means to me.”

Oddly enough, Jinsoul could see it. 

“But thank you.” 

They were still standing there. Neither of them really moved away. She was tired, but not enough to want to sleep. She didn’t want the day to end. Jinsoul wondered if they were thinking the same thing. 

If I’m asleep, I miss that feeling. 

Jinsoul let herself admit it then. “I don’t want to say goodnight.” She glanced at the horizon. The deep inky blue was slowly starting to pale. “Or good morning.” 

“Me neither.” Jungeun was still smiling. Properly, even if it wasn’t as bright as before. “Whoever falls asleep first gets thrown in the water?” 

“I’d say they have to steer the ship when they wake up.” 

Jungeun gave her a look. “Not sure if that’s fair.”

“Neither is jumping in the water.” Jinsoul winked. “One of us can handle those currents.”

She shrugged. “You can laugh, but next time we’re going to the desert again.” 

Next time. 

Jinsoul had to smile. 

They walked to the bow of the ship. Jungeun sat down on the deck this time, stretching her legs out in front of her. Jinsoul sat next to her. They sat a lot closer than normal, their shoulders already touching. 

The stars were still spread out above them. The concentrated river of them stretched over them, going from one side of the world to the next. 

“Being on this ship, it almost feels like I’m floating,” Jungeun said, voice hushed again. “Well, we’re technically floating, but still.”

Jinsoul hummed in response. She wouldn’t ask what she meant. Jungeun would say it. 

“I used to look at the night sky, wondering if I could fall into it.” She spoke slowly. All that joined her voice were the sounds of small waves breaking against the hull of the ship. “I always felt so small.” It didn’t sound like she’d hated it. 

“My favourite part is that,” Jinsoul pointed at the collection of stars arcing over them, “I always thought it was a river. I thought one day I’d be able to pull it closer to us.”

“The mortals gave it different names,” Jungeun said. “Some said it was heaven’s river, others named it after important people in their histories, or stories.” A pause. “I think some tied it to a gray goose.”

She looked at her. “A goose?” 

“They made stories about it too,” she shrugged, “but something I keep hearing about is that it was either Winter’s Way, or the Milky Way.” 

Jinsoul wrinkled her nose. “It doesn’t look like milk.”

The corner of her lip tugged up. “I don’t think they actually meant milk, but the name’s starting to stick.” 

“It’s a terrible name.” 

“Then you should’ve been born a few more hundred years ago,” Jungeun said lightly. “Maybe you could’ve changed it.” 

“I’ll live with it,” Jinsoul replied. “Just as long as no one starts to put that name into our languages.”

“Do you have name for it?” 

“Not really.” She looked up at it again. “It’s a river of stars to me, even if there isn’t any water up there.” 

“We always said they were the moon’s tears,” Jungeun said. “It’s a story my mother told me when I was little.” There wasn’t a falter in her expression, but her voice grew softer. “The moon’s the reason for the light in all of our eyes. When we die, our souls go somewhere else.” Her eyes were looking somewhere far into the distance. "But that light will either go to the moon, or her tears."

Jinsoul knew where Jungeun's mind was now. She forced her own tears back. 

“But the story for the tears is that the Astra are the children of the moon,” Jungeun explained. “We thought that the moon wept whenever there was an Astran born, but some believe they’re tears of pride as she watches how they save spirits from the darkness, others say they’re ones of loss.” 

“And what do you think?” 

“Both.” Jungeun leaned forward, staring up at the sky. “She misses them, but knows they could do the best on Earth instead of farther away. Up there.” She took a deep breath. It trembled at the end. Then she leaned back again, resting her head on the wood. 

Jinsoul wasn’t sure if she was supposed to reach for her hand. She ended up doing it. 

Jungeun squeezed her hand in response, but didn’t say anything. 

Neither did Jinsoul. She just settled on lightly resting her head on Jungeun’s shoulder. 

As the sun rose, Jinsoul was the first to get tired. Jungeun’s steady breath and the slow brushes of the sea lulled her into a doze. 

Jungeun didn’t move from her spot. She only shifted, lightly adjusting her shoulder into something that became even more comfortable. Her side also lost some of its heat as the sun started to shine. 

“Want to go under the deck?”

“Probably, but I don’t want to move," Jinsoul murmured. "And it's below decks.”

Then there was a slow glow behind her eyes. 

Jinsoul opened them just to see how Jungeun started making a canopy of moonlight, looping a part of it from the figurehead and another to the nearest mast. It was bright, but it blocked out the sun.

“That works too.” Jinsoul tucked herself a bit more into Jungeun’s side. “You’re not too cold?” 

“I took the heat from my skin,” Jungeun said. “But I still have the rest.” 

“I didn’t know you could do that,” she muttered, already starting to drift off. 

A small chuckle. “Sleep well, Jinsoul.” 

Hearing her name sent a small flicker of something through her chest. She was too tired to place it. 

“Wake me in the afternoon,” Jinsoul whispered. “I want to see the sunset with you.” 

There was a long pause. Jinsoul thought she’d be asleep before Jungeun replied. 

“I will.” 

Then she fell asleep. 

______

It’d been a few days since they’d come back from the sea. The two of them were coming back from a patrol. Jinsoul couldn’t help but feel sad that it’d become something rare. She hoped that would change. 

“Do you think Yerim’s settling in?” Jungeun asked. She didn’t look so distant anymore. 

Jinsoul nodded. “If you’ve got Hyunjin and Hyejoo on your side, things probably won’t get boring.” 

She smiled ever so slightly. Jinsoul was relieved to see it. “It’s got the added bonus that you get Chaewon with her. Heejin too, sometimes.” 

A bit of lightness finally settled over the silence. 

“And how do you feel,” Jungeun looked over at her, “about being here. The Astra?” 

Jinsoul nearly asked why she wanted to know that. She held the question back. “I still mean what I said before. I’m happy here.” 

“You said you would be happy here, not that you were.” The smile grew. “But now you are?” 

Not right now, she nearly said. Except Jungeun looked hopeful. Jinsoul just nodded. 

“Good.” Jungeun looked away. 

They walked for a bit longer. Jinsoul knew Jungeun was going to say something else. She was struggling with how to say it. 

And then she did. “I’ll be going away again,” Jungeun said. “For longer this time.” The distant tint to her eyes was back. 

Her heart sank. “When?”

“Tomorrow.” 

“Oh.” Jinsoul was scrambling for the right reaction. She couldn't show that she didn't want her to go. 

“It could wait,” Jungeun was looking at her hands, “I don’t have to go.”

“You do,” Jinsoul said. 

She looked up, confused. The grief was showing through again. 

“I didn’t know why you weren’t going sooner,” she continued. “But it was because of Yerim, wasn’t it?” 

“Both of you,” Jungeun replied. 

It was her turn to be confused. 

“There’s three of us now,” she said, looking at the ground now. “We’re a team, aren’t we?” She chuckled. 

“Did you want to make sure we got along?” Jinsoul asked. She could hardly imagine not getting along with Yerim. 

“I wanted to make sure we worked together right,” Jungeun replied. “I mean, it’s not like—I didn’t—“ She broke off with a frown.

“If you’re trying to say it wasn’t your place,” Jinsoul lightly elbowed her, “it was definitely your place to do that.” For someone who’d been alone for most patrols, someone who took most other jobs alone, Jungeun had a good sense for making sure people knew what to do. She did it without being too obvious about it.it usually worked. 

She just shrugged. “And now we’re a good team,” she said. “Yerim’s finding her place here and you’re,” she paused, meeting her eyes, “happy here.” Her gaze softened. 

Jinsoul nodded. She’d expected her to go away, but she’d be lying if she hadn’t hoped Jungeun would stay. Jinsoul didn’t say that. Jungeun needed to be alone to grieve. She’d been here long enough, waiting only for when Yerim had finally started finding her place. 

“I’m not really sure if it’ll help.” Jungeun had summoned a flame, but it was far away from her skin. “I’ll be have to go back for a bit. She,” a sharp breath, “she was the one who got the contracts. Not sure how they’ll have managed that. And I have to see how he's doing." More guilt appeared then. 

Jinsoul stayed quiet.

“Then I’ll be,” she looked at her again, a little bit of hesitance coming back, “in the mountains again. A hike’s always helped. I’ll go to the Warsa who’re nearby too.” 

“To stay, or help?” Jinsoul asked.

The hesitance in her eyes grew. Jinsoul didn’t know why it was there. “Stay,” she said. “That’s why it’ll be longer.” She looked away. 

“And after that?” 

Confusion shot across her features then. “You’re not—“ She closed . “Right.” 

“I’m not?”

“It’s just,” Jungeun shook her head, “I thought you were going to try and convince me not to go.” She looked relieved. 

Jinsoul frowned. “You’ve done it before.” And Jungeun had liked to be there. She’d been away from her life before. Was she going now to get away from her life now? Or to find something else to do for a while? 

She just nodded, eyes flickering between Jinsoul’s. Like on the ship, she was trying to see if Jinsoul meant what she was saying. She hadn’t done that before. Then she smiled. “I’m surprised you remember.” 

“It hasn’t been that long.” Jinsoul tried her best to hold her gaze.  She’d seen that look on the ship, but a part of it felt new. Relatively new at least. 

_____

Yerim looked as if she was torn between tears and complete confusion. 

“How long?” 

“I’m not sure,” Jungeun replied. “But it’ll be a few years.” 

Her face fell and Jungeun’s heart sank. 

“I don’t have to go yet,” she said. “And I could visit.” She tried for a smile. “If you wanted me to.” 

“But you don’t,” Yerim said. “Right?” 

Jungeun couldn’t help but be surprised at the question. She wanted to tell her that this wasn’t because she didn’t want to see her. She wanted to properly explain why she wanted to go. 

Then Yerim just nodded. “Go for as long as you need then.” She hugged her. “Write to us?” 

“Write?” Jungeun repeated. 

She looked up at her, a shaky smile on her face. Then her one of her hands lifted from Jungeun’s waist. There was a fluttering sound then as something flew over to them. Several things.

“Paper,” Yerim said. “Enchanted to survive fires to be sent over here. Courtesy of Yeri. Did you know her name’s actually Yerim too?” 

Jungeun almost laughed. “Why does she give another then?”

She shrugged. “Apparently the tracker spells are so sensitive that they don’t end up tracking her.” 

“I should remove a letter from my name then, or mix it,” Jungeun chuckled, “how would Eunjung work?” 

Yerim lifted a brow. “You never did that before and you won’t be doing it now.”

“True.” Jungeun smiled. It hadn’t taken long for Yerim to figure out some of those things. Either it’d been the others who’d told her, she’d figured it out, or both. 

She pressed the papers into her hands. “But I mean it. Write to us.” 

“I’ll try,” Jungeun said. “But I don’t write well.” 

“Then this’s practice.”

“For what?” Jungeun frowned. “Books are a thing of fairies and mortals.”

Yerim just smiled. “I’ll be comparing your first letter to the one you write before you come back.” Then she patted her arm. “I’m not expecting something every month or week, just when you want to tell us about something or if you miss us.” 

“I’d write more often than a week if we went with the second option.” 

She hugged her again. “I’ll write you too. I’ll see if I can get Jinsoul to do it too.”

Jungeun shook her head. “She doesn’t have to write to me. You’ll be doing it for both of you, just like I’ll be writing to you two.” She almost felt nervous at the thought of penning a letter. She’d done that less than five times in her entire life. 

“We’ll see,” Yerim said, a glint in her eyes. Then her expression turned serious. “I’ll miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you too.” Jungeun squeezed her hand. I’ll come back. She almost said it, but she couldn’t. “I’ll write,” she said. “Promise.” 

Yerim’s eyes lit up and Jungeun felt a large weight lift from her shoulders seeing it. This was a promise she could make. She’d keep it too. 

______

Jinsoul struggled to keep her expression in a smile. Jungeun needed this.

“You need a kit,” Jinsoul said. “I wrote down instructions for applying elixirs and ointments, but also just the ingredients and how to make it, unless you end up buying it from someone else.” 

Jungeun accepted the bag. “And you stuffed it full of that too?” 

She nodded. “It’ll last some time. Until you have to refill it.” She almost hoped Jungeun would come back to visit for that. She knew she wouldn’t. 

“Thank you, Jinsoul.” Jungeun gave her a light smile. 

She could still feel that ache. It was a lot stronger now. 

Then she went to her bag and carefully attached it to the side. 

Jinsoul stood there as Jungeun looked at the weapons, while she put the clothes into her bag. There was a sword, an axe, and the knives. She hadn’t attached them yet. 

“Taking care of spirits is usually how I start,” Jungeun said. “I have to go find the people who need it.” 

“With a bag like that?” She forced herself to move a little more. 

“The debt is smaller if they keep it safe for me,” Jungeun replied. Now she started to attach the knives to her ankles, fixing the leather bindings to it. It went slower than it should have. Her hand still hadn’t recovered fully. She'd let Jinsoul start to heal it properly, but now she was going. What if someone used that weakness against her.

Jinsoul was beside her now.

She caught her eye then. “Are you alright?” 

Jinsoul hadn’t been able to hide it. She nodded instead of replying. 

Jungeun lifted a brow and turned to face her. Her voice softened with her next words. “I don’t have to go.” 

She shook her head. She said what she had before. “You do."

Jungeun’s gaze faltered before returning to meet hers. There was something else in her eyes. “I think I’ve got everything now.” 

I’m leaving now, that meant. 

She nodded again. It was all she could do. The rest of what she wanted to say was stuck in . 

“Jinsoul,” she started. There was a tremor to her voice. “I’m,” she broke off. “I don’t know how to say this.” A pause. “Properly.” She reached out a hand, stopping just short of Jinsoul’s. There was even more hesitance there. 

Jinsoul took her good hand. It still wasn’t warm like it used to be. 

“I don’t think I would’ve—could have stayed here as long as I did without you.” Jungeun swallowed once. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to thank you for that.”

“You don’t have to.” 

“I do,” Jungeun said. “You didn’t have to help me, but that you did.” She let out a short breath. “That means,” a shaky chuckle, “I don’t really know what that means.” 

She wanted to say more. Jinsoul could see that. She waited, even though she didn’t know what it would be. Just standing there, holding on to Jungeun, waiting for her next words, and then the moment she’d leave was difficult. 

“I also don’t know how to actually thank you for that,” Jungeun went on. “But leaving doesn’t feel like a good way to start that.” A small frown appeared. 

The words sounded wrong to her. 

“There isn’t a debt to repay,” Jinsoul said. “So don’t start thinking like that with me.” 

The frown deepened.

“Why doesn’t Yeri owe you for helping her then?” She wanted to ask her about what Jungeun had done for her, because the fire elf was just as likely to deny any mention of a ‘debt’ as Jinsoul was now. 

Jungeun’s brow furrowed. “Because what I did wasn’t something to repay.”

“So,” Jinsoul lifted her other hand to her arm, squeezing it, “you don’t owe me anything.” 

The frown was still there, but Jungeun didn’t say anything else. 

She realised it then. Jungeun would be leaving soon. Too soon. 

Jinsoul looked at her then. Properly. Her hair was gathered up in a knot on the top of her head. Her brow was less furrowed now, but Jinsoul could still see the faint outlines of where it remained. There were deeper circles around her eyes too. Her eyes themselves were a deep red, more like rubies than a blazing fire this time. They’d grown colder, but were still warm now. 

Her thoughts faded immediately when a hand cupped her face.

Jinsoul recognised the soft glow in her eyes. It rooted her to the spot. 

“Maybe I don’t owe you anything,” Jungeun said. “But I’ll be grateful for all of it my entire life.” Then she gently tilted Jinsoul’s head forward. “Thank you.” Lips pressed to her forehead. They were warm. 

Jinsoul closed her eyes. The scent of fire surrounded her. She didn’t want to miss it. 

Then she pulled away. Her hand fell away as well. When Jinsoul opened her eyes, there was a glow still in Jungeun’s. 

Jungeun didn’t smile, but it was almost there. Then she turned around to slip the sword into its sheath and the axe into her belt. 

She gnawed on the inside of her cheek. Jungeun would be gone for years. She needed the time and they were immortal. Whether it would be five or ten shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. 

And then she felt how tears started to form in Jungeun’s eyes. She felt how they were pushed down. 

She watched as Jungeun turned back to her. She almost reached out for her. She wanted her to stay. She wanted to go with her. Jinsoul pushed the rest of her thoughts out of her mind. 

“Be careful,” Jinsoul said instead. Come back safely was what she wanted to say. There were several reasons why she couldn’t. 

“I will.” The edges of her lips pulled up once, before falling again. “Good—see you.” 

“See you,” Jinsoul echoed. Her eyes burned. There was more she wanted to say, but she didn’t know what that would be. 

And then she was gone.

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Author's Note

I don't really know what to say after this chapter. It's a hard one to 'recap' I feel, especially because it was several scenes woven together. The passage of time is a bit odd, but more because these scenes are different types (and stages) of reactions to what happened. Living with grief, but also being around others who are grieving doesn't quite have a set path we're supposed to follow. Trauma of any kind is similar, in that there's so many ways we can (and can't) live with it.

Jungeun is a difficult character to pin down for me in descriptions or explanations, but she's one I can write relatively easily. When I read your takes on her, or Jinsoul, it's so often the things I've thought of or felt while writing, but I've never really thought it through properly. The same goes for Jinsoul's character, because even if I relate to her less, I've spent a lot of time in her head, both this version and the future one. 

This was a long chapter, but I hope those many words were worth going through those scenes. I tried to get in a balance again, because not every day of Jungeun's going to be painful and Jinsoul isn't the only one who's close to her. Also, if you have not listened to Wendy's Like Water, it's an absolutely beautiful song. The lyrics are also incredibly touching and when I read them, it made me think of this story (I'll put my favourite part below). Someone actually pointed it out to me that the lyrics fit this version of Lipsoul and they were so right. I'm also really glad that the lyrics don't really talk about healing, because Jinsoul isn't exactly the reason why Jungeun heals, but I'll be getting to that in future chapters. 

I'm not sure when the next update for this will come, so we'll see. Do let me know your thoughts!

Hope you're all healthy and safe. See you next chapter.

Twt: hblake44

CC

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"My love is like water
Filling your sore spots
It covers the deep wounds
And embraces you tightly
It makes you rise again"