Taemin ran into the surf, his shoes left on the sand next to Yuki; his pants rolled up to his bony legs. He laughed with a child’s delight at the pull of the waves around his bare feet. It was years since he had been allowed to play like this. Onew was such a workaholic, driven by the needs of Time, that his only recreation was limited to their waits at the bus stop. The number of times they had played baseball with his umbrella and Minho’s ball was nauseating. And so Taemin lingered in the surf before turning back towards the beach and Yuki.

Yuki dragged his fingers through the sand. He gathered some into his hands and let it fall like sand in an hour glass. He then sighed and dusted his hands, giving his companion a tired smile. His face was gaunt. Lines about his eyes told of their sleepless nights. His hands trembled from the still painful markings made from the folded cranes. Taemin sat down next to him and made to touch his arm; and pulled back with surprise at the thrumming of energy he felt run through Yuki’s body as he the red number. 500.

Taemin thought back to Fate’s words to him back in the hospital. He would know what to do. Yet the gnawing doubt told him otherwise. Taemin was exhausted, depleted from their fights with the Kuro-yurei and other monsters that began to chase them both in the mortal and supernatural worlds. A few times they had risked their lives by jumping in front of buses or onto moving ferries and the other supernatural transportations to escape.

And his sense of purpose slowly eroded with every Failed Whisper he allowed to happen. It was Taemin who collected the soul’s memories. It was with his eyes he saw the emotional events that empowered the Whispers. Taemin knew he would be haunted with a thousand empty faces at the end of the quest, accusing him of broken promises.

In his heart, Taemin wanted to give up.

But his time spent with Onew and the others taught him about family; and how family protected one another. And how family would make sacrifices for each other. Yuki was family too, even more so as Key’s son.

“Come on,” he said to Yuki, “Let’s go.”

They sat to the side of the bus on Heavens Road, called forward by the incessant Time on Taemin’s pocket watch. Taemin’s gaze was unfocused on the yellow hills and green skies. With a blink of his eyes, it all changed and everything was a variation of white and beige. The resulting brightness was painful to see, but it made the creatures in the sky much easier to identify. He sat up straight in his seat and nudged Yuki awake.

“Look,” he said and pointed to the approaching giants in the sky, “Dragons!”

Yuki felt awe towards the beasts as they flew over the bus. Their skins shimmered and refracted the light into rainbows so it appeared as if they were forever changing colour. He could feel the power of their wings beat down upon them and hear the rumbling of their breath in his blood. The dragons were magnificent. Taemin had not lied to him about that.

They disembarked from the bus and headed towards the dingy hotel. Someone had just died. They were approaching the newly formed soul, crying in the car park, when both Messenger and mortal pulled back and hid behind a truck. They felt the encroaching empty cold; the Kuro-yurei were nearby. Taemin cursed at their situation and looked back the way they had come from. The bus was already fading away into the clouds.

After their 700^th Whisper, Yuki had suggested a new course of action to their quest. He saw Taemin’s fatigue and felt pity for the boy. It took him longer to form his sword in their fights and he became slower to react against attacks. Yuki, now adept with forming his own supernatural weaponry, had defended Taemin’s exposed back more times than he could remember to count. Taemin’s smiles were also now rare and there was an ever-present slump of his shoulders.

So he suggested avoiding all fights with the monsters of both worlds and for them to just run away. He had quickly come to realise that there were plenty of sad souls left behind on the mortal world. It would not be hard to collect all thousand Whispers.

Taemin looked about to get his bearings. He caught sight of a familiar tower and his eyes tracked up to the sky. Directly above the tower was a pulsating star.

“Yuki,” he whispered to the other, “We’re close to the Gods Pavilion.” He pointed to the tower. “We can hide there for a while until we can catch the next bus.”

Yuki nodded agreement with his plans and they moved away from the gathering Kuro-yurei.

The Gods Pavilion was an uncomprehending nightmare in Yuki’s mind. Buildings from different cultures and eras stood next to each other, creating a surreal cityscape. Structures that were physically impossible stood perfectly. They passed a pyramid with its tip to the ground, its wide base swayed in the air. All manners of supernatural creatures crowded the streets too. Messengers walked next to harpies, sphinxes, fairies, and wizards.

Taemin guided them into one of the hotels he and the others often used while they were in town. He thanked the receptionist and led Yuki to their room. Much to his amusement, Yuki’s eyes lit up at the sight of the beds and immediately claimed one. He jumped onto its sheets and spread out like a starfish on glass.

“Why don’t you stay here and get some sleep?” Taemin suggested to him. “I’ll be out, probably visit one of the markets for things that could help us.” Taemin hoped to find some medicine to ease some of the pain the other was constantly aching with. He remembered Key had gotten something for himself the last time they were here.

The markets were situated in the larger open spaces and were filled with enchanted items for sale. Monsters, trapped in magic cages, were also available for those who wished to try to tame them into pets, or to be eaten; the gods are known for their peculiar tastes. He stopped in front of a wrinkled crone, hunched over a small herb garden. Bottles and jars were stacked on the table behind her.

“What do you want?” she demanded in a low voice. She peered up into Taemin’s face from swollen eyelids.

“I need painkillers,” Taemin told her.

“What caused the pain?” she asked.

“Laziness,” he replied.

She said nothing for a while before she crackled with laughter. She opened both eyes to see him the clearer. “I like you,” she told him, “But in all seriousness, little boy, I need to know the cause before I can give you the cure.”

Taemin appraised the crone in front of him and told her that his friend was experiencing excessive energy in his systems. He needed something to drain the excess.

“Excess energy, huh?” she muttered. “There ain’t anything like that here in this world.”

“Well, that is the cause,” Taemin flatly responded and waited for her to move towards the table behind her. She shuffled to behind the table and towards a bag hanging from a chair. Her hand disappeared within its depth and she pulled out a vial with clear liquid. Taemin recognised it as something Key had drunk before and he relaxed a little.

The crone did not miss Taemin’s relief as she came shuffling back to her counter. “As I said, there ain’t anything like that here in this world; that belong. This was reserved for another Messenger. Rumour has it that he is cursed for 1000 years.

“How so?” Taemin was quick to question her. She was talking about Key.

“He had done some terrible deed to gain great power. They say that you can have a wish granted if you make 1000 folded cranes, right?” And she leant forward to whisper into Taemin’s ear, “Well, if you make a crane in this world you have to pay a price. Every bird made equals a year of extra service to the god who grants the wish. Why do you think no-one has ever made a wish from 1000 cranes? No-one is that stupid to do it!” And she cackled and gave Taemin the vial.