For the past seven hours, Yunho felt like he had been stuck in limbo.

In his subconscious, it could be described as being trapped in the middle of the ocean with no sight of land; him floating in and out of consciousness and the clarity of his mind as inconsistent as a broken clock. One second it was as clear as day: he was in danger, Serafia was going to kill him, Mingi needed to get away, his heart yearned and ached for Ara. He was very sure somewhere in between Ara had knelt next to him, in flesh and blood and was gone the next second. Yunho had been living a dream within a dream for far too long to mistake that.

The next second it felt as if someone had smudged the transcript of those events, and he knew it had happened, but not enough to know exactly what had occured. 

The loud clanking of the chain on his ankle brought him back to reality, the ringing in his ears stopped momentarily. 

Where the hell am I? His eyes darted anxiously around the dim cellar, and he was struggling to piece together whatever had happened since the last hour or so - and came to a relief when he was at the exact same spot as before, nothing had changed even though it meant he was still imprisoned. His legs had buckled and were asleep after kneeling in that position for so long; grimacing, he adjusted his stance when he heard incoming footsteps outside his cellar and he froze.

"Is it true? That the Corpsewitch has gone rogue?" one of the two passing witches asked. 

Corpsewitch, Yunho thought fleetingly, they were talking about Ara.

"Hush Imelda, " the other witch hissed urgently. "The coven is already fragile as it is, we don't need news of this going about,"

"So the rumours are true," Imelda said. "Tamari, what do you know?"

"I told you not to push," Tamari said, vexed and sighed. "I was nearby her bedroom when it happened, heard glass shatter and she started screaming like she was getting tortured. Woke the Mother up and I saw them haul her into the Whispering Chamber, still mumbling gibberish, I swore I could have heard crying too. It wasn't a pretty sight,"

"Goodness," Imelda exclaimed. "I wasn't part of the coven when the Corpsewitch was a prominent figure, is this supposed to happen?"

"I've only heard myths from the older witches, even they do not know the extent of the Corpsewitch's powers. Except that they're unstable as well as powerful, like an uncontrollable fire,"

"But the coven's deal with Serafia...no one but the Corpsewitch can perform that ritual, and that half-fae wench has gone mad. The Witch Mother knows that, this is insanity! Exchanging that boy's life for someone else-"

"Quiet down! He could hear us," Tamari snapped. "What I've understood from the older witches is she's using this as a chance to trigger the Corpsewitch's powers to its peak, she has the raw talent, this is the catalyst,"

"But isn't this risky? Like you said, her powers are like a flame. She's already gone rogue-"

"You think the Witchmother would be that of a fool to burn her out? No, once she goes mad and can't think for herself any longer, she'll be right under the coven's thumb, she won't object from carrying on the bloodline,"

Imelda a breath, "Is it fine, talking about the Corpsewitch like this?"

That was when Tamari laughed, and for some reason it made Yunho's blood boil. "There is nothing sacred here, Imelda. It's power play, the Witchmother knows this all too well, it's all in the best interests of the Witch Elm," and they began walking again, switching to an entirely different topic. 

This time Yunho's consciousness didn't slip away, he couldn't afford that now. His head was spinning and he breathed heavily, the thought of anything the witches had said, happening to Ara, made him sick to the bone. He shut his eyes tight, desperate to recall when Ara had spoken to him; at the time it was as if his true conscious had been sitting in the passenger's seat, and the amnesiac part of his brain was doing the talking. He had seen her, and all he wanted to do was wrap his hands around her, tell her it was okay and they'll be alright in the end.

He had to make sure she would be okay, even without him.

Even if it had to be by damning himself.

Then he heard more new voices, this time within the cellar and he craned his head to look.

When Septimus ushered Hongjoong to follow him through the portal, he'd unknowingly took him by the hand and it sent tremors across Hongjoong's skin. But neither did he point it out or reject that gesture.

He'd changed out of his regal clothes and doned what looked like thick leather breeches and a coat, a sword brandished on his back and somewhere in between, he had handed Hongjoong an elf bolt that gleamed when reflected in the light. He had stared at Septimus for a second before the faerie prince answered, "An elf bolt cuts through anything, it might come in handy if you need to slit some throats," and he shrugged, a very un-princely gesture.

Hongjoong thought, hopefully he didn't need to slit any throats to save his sister. It had been years since coming to the Grimm Market, and yet standing in the place made the haunting and eeriness of it was nothing less surreal. Pointedly, Hongjoong took the lead this time because he knew where the Witch Elm was, and also Septimus could keep an eye on his back. 

He still didn't understand why a faerie prince would willingly run in the face of danger without even a supply of guards for backup. And yet here they were, the only thing shrouding them from getting spotted were faerie enchanments that made them invisible to everyone else. When they neared the Witch Elm, he was also the one who had to gently push the door open as Septimus summoned a gust of wind to disguise this act, the knob to the front door was made from cold iron and smeared with sage powder, things that were lethal to faeries.

Hongjoong was familiar with the mechanics of the coven, who operated on a mostly nocturnal basis. It was like a twisted sisterhood or malevolent convent (he supposed it was, in a way) and as far as he knew, the witches retreated underground during the day and kept to themselves, conducting whatever rituals or meditations needed; then there was the awful Witch Mother, Edith.

He had never been to the underground taverns of the coven, but luckily Septimus was a good navigator when he found the trapdoor within seconds. He glanced, slightly perturbed by the gruesome drawing of winged people chained and burned at the stake inside a circle of gleeful witches pinned on the wall. Hongjoong swallowed, "I should've mentioned they hate faeries. Septimus, if you feel-"

"All the more reason to irk them by foiling their plans," Septimus simply answered. "Trust me I'll be doing a service to my people in this, I might be sung with praise when this is over," and swiftly he advanced forward once they climbed down the trapdoor. 

Hongjoong didn't expect the underground lair to be that elaborate like some maze, and reacted with slightly annoyance that finding and saving Ara would take longer than he had anticipated. "How do we even start? Just open every single door or knock to ask nicely?"

Septimus chuckled, "Even at times like this you still manage to entertain me, Hongjoong," and Hongjoong looked away sheepishly. But he got over it quickly and saw Septimus point down the hallway, "I sense someone there, in the room to the left next to the oil lamp,"

"It could be a trap," Hongjoong reminded him. 

But Septimus seemed confident, "No, I sense fear," and he approached that direction with Hongjoong following his lead. 

They reached to the very end of that hallway, narrowly passing one or two unassuming witches who clearly did not take notice of them. He could see it granted Septimus somewhat smugness that they had been right under the witches' noses, hidden in plain sight; he supposed it was justified, given how many bad things the coven must have done to the fae in the name of hatred and their crusade. He should have also expected how quick Septimus was on his feet, sure-footed and barely making a sound, the sense of adrenaline he had from taking a risk like this granted him a type of excitement he couldn't quite make sense of. 

He had been so transfixed on deciphering Septimus's crooked grin it came as a bit of surprise when that grin was immediately wiped off when Septimus spotted who was trapped in the room. Hongjoong turned his gaze.

"Y-Yunho?"

Yunho thought Ara's powers had somehow transferred to him for him to hear the voices of ghosts calling his name, either that or he'd gone mad in his own lost sense of time.

But then the door to his cellar gently unlocked itself, creaked open and locked itself again - and two figures revealed themselves.

"Hongjoong?" the name tumbled out before his own brain registered it. It felt like ages since he last saw him, it had been ages since he last saw him. Standing next to him was Prince Septimus, the faerie of the Rose Court dressed in thick black armor. 

"So it's true, you're alive!" Hongjoong breathed and despite everything, his eyes lit up the same way Ara's had and it still put a hole through his chest. "But how? Why are you here? Ara-"

"She's in danger," he said with urgency, maintaining his tone as hushed as possible. The gears in his head were spinning, cobbling for an idea now that there was a way to ensure Ara could be saved, it needed to work. "Serafia wants me permanently dead in exchange for something else, I don't know what it is but she's desperate enough to need help from the Ara because she's the Corpsewitch,"

Hongjoong paled, "So you know? About Ara?" he crouched down and looked at him straight in the eye. "Where is she?"

"They've taken her to the Whispering Chamber, I don't remember where that is but," he returned the same urgent stare. "The Witch Mother plans on using this ritual to trigger her powers, and she'll lose control of both her abilities and mind. Serafia will be there, as well,"

Hongjoong was shaking, "Then we have to get Ara out now, we'll rescue you right now and we'll go get her-"

"No!" Yunho hissed, much to Hongjoong's surprise. Yunho shook his head, "The coven will find out and they know who Ara is, they'll hunt her down and that'll put you in danger too. Serafia isn't stupid, she'll put the pieces together and she'll come after you, Ara, Mingi, there is no end to this,"

It was Septimus's turn to interject, "Then what is your plan, Jeong Yunho?" 

"We can't let her raise suspicions, so Ara needs to be there during the ritual," he hated that it was the only way, that she can't be saved sooner than that. "But that's only until the key to the ritual is gone before she starts the ritual,"

It didn't bode well with Hongjoong, Yunho knew that. "Yunho, no..."

He had to look him in the eye unflinching, it was the only way. It'd break Mingi's heart, but that is if only he was there, and he wouldn't. "You, any of you will have to kill me before anyone gets their hands on me,"

Hongjoong shook his head frantically, and his ticks with Ara were so similar it granted him both pain and comfort. "No, I won't do it,"

He bit his lip, "Then I'll do it myself if I have to. With me gone, Serafia won't ever get what she wants. Think about what she did to you, to Ara. None of your deserved this, it all happened because of me. So it's only right for it all to end with me," he rambled as much as he could to convince Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong's pupils shook, "Ara wouldn't want you to make that sacrifice for her..."

"I should've been dead the moment I fell into that goddamn pool when I was fourteen. I've been living like I was dead for the past eight years, now is no different to be honest, not when everyone around me has to go through hell. Ara's your sister, that's why I trust you to keep her safe. So please, give me the power to make a decision," he choked.

Hongjoong thought long and hard, never once did Septimus say anything. "But the prophecy, none of what you're doing alligns with it," 

He had told Ara this already, he was too tired to repeat it and he knew in his heart that he was right all along. Ara's ultimate sacrifice would be letting someone she loved go. 

"Yes," Yunho simply answered. "Yes, it does."