The refrigerator whirred in the corner of the room. The pressure of the low vibration popped my eardrums. My hands felt heavy, as though they were not my own, when I lifted them. Wringing them through the strands of my flyaway hairs, I took a deep breath in. Then out. Bubbles bloomed from my lips.

I felt tired suddenly. The kind of weariness that wears down on your shoulders. Heavy and burdensome. Everything was stained the same hue of blue as I wadded through my small apartment. It looked the same as when I left it.

There were the old shutters opened just a bit, a sulking fern soaking up the moonlight on the windowsill. My clothes on lines across the ceiling, laundry long since done. The holovision buzzed in the corner of the room, static noise flickering on and off. The dresser shelves were still crooked in their sockets, shirt sleeves peeking out of every nook and cranny. My sweet home away from home had remained the same; waiting for the day I would return.

And I felt tired.

My eyelashes fluttering, I looked to my bed. 

Occupied.

I take a moment to wonder what he’s doing. The obvious aside, why was he sleeping here? In my room. My apartment. I took another to decide it didn’t matter. I had missed him too much to become possessive of a place I left of my own volition. On my own terms. Because I had wanted to.

Hair a whisp of multi-colored purple, he mumbled something I couldn’t hear above that faraway hum. Pale lips parted, a reflexive sigh escaped him as he curled further into the old, hand-me-down comforter. Pearling bubbles floated upwards. Fingers twitching beside his face where he lay, he seemed to beckon me closer. Asking me to take solace in his arms for the second time.

Too tempting a suggestion to resist, I did.

But before I took that first step, I called out to him, “Kai.”

This first plunge had me choking. My lungs quickly filled with water, replacing the weight on my shoulders. My limbs wouldn’t listen to me as they convulsed, flight or fight taking over as I began kicking upwards, scrambling to the surface of the pool I was drowning in. It wasn’t long until I reached it, wading the dense water to keep afloat, gasping for the precious pocket of air where the ceiling concaved. But I could feel it dragging me down.

Fighting back.

Making me think of ridiculous things like “surrendering” and “giving up.” Because wasn’t I tired? Wasn’t all of this so tiring? Wouldn’t it be better to just sleep the day away? To let go?

It was easier.

Sinking back down, back home, was easier. My consciousness fading on me, everything blue becoming black, it would have been easy to let go — past experiences have shown me that much. Words like surrender, thoughts of giving up, I wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore if I did. Because wasn’t I tired?

Not yet.

Not yet, I told myself. 

Not yet, as I swam towards Kai.

It wasn’t time for us to give up yet as I shook him, yelling his name, voiceless above that growing hum. Getting louder and louder and louder. Erupting in a hell storm of red and orange and yellow across my eyes just as Kai finally opened his own. 

And then, nothing.

Nothing as I raised from my bed covered in my own sweat. The refrigerator too young to groan painfully. Jingxi’s nightlife peaking through the blinds. The comforter a pristine white. 

“Nightmare?” Victoria asked, stirring in her sleep.

“It’s nothing.” I told myself. 

“It’s nothing.” I told Luhan the next morning after he made an untraceable call to the Capital, to the Hall of the Guardian’s, at my request. 

I asked for Kai when Chanyeol answered. The blazing phoenix claimed he was still sleeping. I resisted the urge to tell Chanyeol to wake him up. Because it was nothing.

“She’s been more,” Kris paused, glancing around the crowded room, before his voice resigned to a whisper, “irritable lately.”

“Since we arrived in Dunai.” Chen nodded in appreciation towards a man in a pinstripe tuxedo, rejecting his offer of one of the sparkling wines on his tray with a, “No, thank you.” Sobriety was a virtue he was looking to uphold. If something happened, the last thing he needed was to be reduced to a drunken stupor.

“Something’s bothering her.” Luhan agreed, “But she won’t tell me what.” Like an itch he couldn’t scratch, he had a feeling it was anything but nothing.

Lay approached them through the moving bodies in the large room. Dressed to the nines like everyone else, they didn’t see him coming until he was right in front of them. “She’s dancing with Tao.” Pointing into an obscure direction of the large ballroom, he said, “Somewhere over there.”

“I don’t like this.” Xiumin put down his own drink on a passing by tray, two sips in and already regretting his decision. “There’s too many people here to see straight.”

“Is that the alcohol talking?” 

Chen joked, his effort to lighten the mood subpar at best. He didn’t even have it in him to laugh. He was currently trying to avoid near suffocation at the sheer claustrophobic nature of the venue. Not even the Hall of the Guardians held up to the gaudy extravagance of where the citizens of Jingxi decided to hold a banquet in the Board’s honor. The gem-encrusted chandelier above them practically blinded him with each glance upwards.

“Xiumin has a point.” Kris gave said Guardian a pat on his back, a burp leaping from the shorter male’s throat as a result, “Something about this doesn't feel right. We need to keep on our toes.”

He ordered Lay to the terrace doors, Chen and Xiumin to the main entrance, Luhan to the left of the stage, and made sure to tell Tao to stick by their Seeress until this exhausting night was done and over with. Because nothing was certainly something.

“Kane was born in Jingxi. Did you know that, Luhan?” 

A woman with red lips grabbed his arm. The simple touch was enough to bring his attention back towards the older group of Exotians that had surrounded him. They raved on and on about his mentor to the point where he had begun to grow bored. Politely excusing himself when they were discussing someone he was “close” with would seem the epitome of rude. Yet he honestly believed he had nothing but complaints to contribute to the list of accolades they had all seemingly prepared beforehand.

“I didn’t.” Luhan pointedly responded with a tight smile.

The gesture went unseen from beneath his black, studded mask. The accessory matched his grey and black suit, metal worked into either shoulder. Another gift — bribe — from Henry in exchange for agreeing to attend the banquet held by Jingxi in the Boards’ honor. It had some fancy name he didn’t bother remembering.

Just like the minuscule pieces of information about a father he didn’t talk to anymore.

“What a shame he never told you!” The woman gasped. Three other, younger, women followed suit. The identity of the ringleader here was clear. “We might have seen you sooner if he had! Children practically beg their parents to come to Jingxi. It’s the fourth most beautiful city in the world, after all!”

Considering the fact that there were only ten places large enough to be classified as cities on the entirety of EXO planet, Luhan failed to see how such a fact could be said with an almost ridiculous amount of pride. He had seen the world ranking she referenced himself and had to restrain from bringing her ego down a peg by mentioning Dunai had placed second. A place that, upon hearing he had just recently visited, the citizens of Jingxi called “a rat infested drainage ditch.” If there was one thing he liked about Jingxi, however, it was the unbelievable transparency of everything.

Glass puns aside, he could see through people instantly.

As the citizens of Dunai put it, “A Jingxian’s bluff is as good as his word.”

Both were false and easy to twist.

“Children always are fascinated by the shinier toys,” raising his untouched glass between two fingers, Luhan coerced them into celebrating their own worthless vanity, “aren’t they?”

“Wise words for a man so young.” One of the men spoke up, himself barely at the end of his twenties. “Did you predecessor sharpen your tongue himself?”

Luhan was taken aback by his overconfidence. A pompous smile lit his face as he gauged the Guardians’s reaction. Judging from his apparel, he wasn’t from Jingxi. His skin was too tan. His teeth were off-white in color. And he seemed far too clever to contain his giddiness at mocking a legend.

“My mentor taught me many things.” Luhan shot back, not fond of being one-upped, “I’m particularly keen on picking up the slightest nuances of my fellow Exotians.”

“Could you show us?” The ringleader interrupted their stand-off, tugging incessantly at Luhan’s arm as though knowing Kane’s name somehow entitled her to acting close with him. “Kane always put on a spectacular show for us during his yearly visits!”

Luhan doubted someone so apathetic would “always” visit. Besides, Kane was a devote promoter of doing things with purpose. It seemed unlikely he would pointlessly travel to Jingxi just to put on a meaningless show of prowess. Luhan saw no reason to uphold such a dubious tradition.

But, as he found the Exotians around him staring, anticipating a power he didn’t think much of in comparison to his fellows, he curbed under the pressure. 

His glass floated into the air, along with those of everyone around him. Swaying in pairs to the music being played by the live band. Twirling sparkling, golden liquids as they danced to the soothing melody. Round and round they went. Round and round the eyes of his onlookers followed. There were multiple coos of praise and light-hearted bouts of laugher. 

There was one laugh in particular that had Luhan looking away from the snobbish man whose insults seemed far away in light of his performance. He felt overcome with a feeling of triumph when he locked eyes with his Seeress. Smiling widely, she gave him two less-than-graceful thumbs up. Her gem-encrusted headdress and flowing pink gown, embroidered with the keenest eye to detail, paled in comparison to her single gesture.

Already past his limit for how high he could fly, he almost lost concentration when she mimed next to . Hand rising to her nose before descending downwards, the glasses above his head trembled. He knew what she was implying. Whether it be for appearances sake or not, he felt a weight he hadn’t felt on his shoulders until that very moment lift. 

She was giving him permission to break one of the rules between them.

His hands went to his face with urgency, lips gasping for air when he peeled off his intricate mask. More compliments washed over him, drowning him in a sea of bodies moving closer to get a better look at who everyone was fawning over. 

Changing the sashays and dips of the wine glasses as the music cascaded into an upbeat rhythm, he moved his eyes away from her for a second. The very next, she was gone, disappearing into the faces of the congruous crowd. 

And along with her the nameless man, who had challenged both Luhan’s mind and body, went.

“First, I'd like to ask you all to give yourselves a round of applause for being such gracious hosts to both myself and my fellow Boards.” 

Kris wedged himself between two women, their jewelry snipping at his suit. He mumbled a simple word of apology before moving through them, halfway through searching in front of the stage. Claps reverberated through the crowd, elbows jabbing him as he went. Despite his squinting eyes, he saw the signal Chen gave him.

Index and forefingers forming an "x,” he dismally shook his head. Kris relayed the message to where Xiumin was a handful of yards to his right. It was seconds after the announcement of Henry’s speech that Tao walked up to the ice Guardian, asking if he’d seen her highness. Apparently, she had gone to the restroom ten minutes prior and hadn’t returned. Xiumin’s negative response prompted Tao’s current state of panic — along with everyone else’s.

Minus one Guardian who had, coincidentally, disappeared along with her.

“Where are you, Luhan?” Kris stood on his toes, trying to pick his brother out of the crowd to no avail. Of all of their abilities, his would have been the most useful right now.

Once the ingenuine applause died down, Henry continued, voice magnified by the microphone he held up to his smiling lips, “The generous contributions you’ve made to our cause have made our continued influence possible. The rumors of the Exotians of Jingxi do you no justice.” Hums of agreement rumbled against every inch of unnecessarily ornate wall paneling.

Tao pushed his way to the back of the room, deciding to properly investigate the woman’s restroom one more time. Lay met him on the way, giving him nod of reassurance before exiting through glass double doors to the terrace. Flowers and shrubbery, more numerous than those he’d seen at Flior, greeted him.

“I’ve actually been wrong about a lot of things lately.” Henry humbled himself, yet his charisma as he stood alone before hundreds of used-to-be opposers to his ideals failed to wither, “For example, our lovely Seeress of EXO.”

Numerous women screamed when Tao intruded upon their powder time, both noses and cheeks left red as they rushed out. He apologized with a deep bow only to shamelessly walk up to each wooden door, knocking and opening each one. 

“Getting to know our young Seeress has been quite the roller coaster ride. Luckily, there have been more ups than downs. And I take full responsibility for the latter.”

Lay moved through the dimly lit landscape built over forty floors above ground. Everywhere he looked, there was another fork in his path. His eyes frantically searched for pink in the vast, green sea. He heard the sound of running water just around the corner.

"We’ve heads on more than one occasion and yet, each time, even if I manage to keep my natural wits about me, she always manages to come out on top.”

Tao reached the last stall. A sign labeled “Out of Order” was crookedly taped at eye level. He called for her, knocking tentatively. When there was no answer, he stepped back to peek beneath the wooden door. There was a shadow of something inside. He kicked the door down.

"Her sense of righteousness is a treasure to this planet and a blessing to it’s people.” Henry scanned the room, parallels forming between his brows, “It’s not without certainty that I assure you she’s someone we can trust our future with.”

A drowned out scream had Lay lengthening his stride, swerving around the next wall of hedges in an instant. When his feet skidded to stop, he saw three things. First, the most breathtakingly beautiful fountain he’d ever seen. Second, a hunched over figure cloaked in black. Third, almost obscured from view, something pink being shoved into the fountain’s depths. His legs propelled him forward, his voice screaming out.

Henry raised his glass, “On that note, I’d like to ask another favor of everyone.”

Tao came face to face with what was, undeniably, the biggest explosive he’d ever seen. He had a hand in defusing those the Council utilized on a daily basis. But he always had help back then. He needed, at the very least, both Chen and Xiumin. Judging from the metal’s crying whir of life, necessity wasn’t his first priority. Holding his hands out, he closed his eyes.

“If you’d all listen very carefully, I won’t have to repeat myself twice. And you won’t have to hear my voice for much longer.” Henry laughed heartily into the microphone, earning the same in return from his audience.

The man was sprinting away before Lay could reach the marble masterpiece. He vanished into the garden’s maze as though he knew exactly which paths to take. Lay gave up the idea of chasing him before he could think it, pulling her highness, his Seeress, out of the fountain with a single tug.

He cradled her in his arms, checking her condition. Her body was lukewarm. Her lips were pale. Her eyes had rolled back. He was deathly still as he felt for her pulse at her bruised neck.

There was nothing.

“Your highness?”

Nothing.

“My Seeress?”

Still nothing.

Tears gathered at his chin. His frame slouched as he felt as though his very being was being lifted from him. From his burdened shoulders. From his shaking hands. He knew what this was. He didn’t need to have experienced it before to know exactly what was happening.

The Tree of Life is always swift to exact its vengeance. 

Heart stinging from what he was on the brink of loosing, he became weak to everything. Weak to her motionless form. Weak to words like “surrender” and suggestions of “giving up.” Strengthened instead by the sudden explosion that rang through the night sky — the moon glowing high above his shrunken state. 

Hot steam at his back. Smoke clouded his vision. He looked behind him in terror at the outlines of fire rising into the air. And he made this terror, his fear of losing everything, his motivation. No matter what came next, it wouldn’t wait for him to pull himself together before hitting him again.

Filled with newfound resolution, he breathed in deep.

Putting trembling hands to her heart, he closed his eyes. 

Nothing happened.