One
Wolf's Bane
All eleven of them left their bicycles abandoned on the shoulder of the road, hardly ever caring about the possibility of being caught. They took off in the direction of the wrought iron gates that sealed the national park--the only thing akin to the country in the midst of the big city--divesting themselves of their shirts on the way.
Jongin was the first over the twelve-foot barrier, landing on the other side on his knees. He threw out his left hand, the bones under his skin seeming to bubble as they changed, the pain of them cracking and breaking themselves in order to become what they were supposed to be only lasting for a minute before he was off like a shot, howling at the moon.
The laughter of the others behind him faded into growls and howls and the beating of powerful paws against the earth.
Tonight, they run.
It hadn’t been long since they had revealed to the masses that they were wolves; it was just sad on the public’s part that they thought it was all for show. Oh, it was all fine and dandy for them, really, since they still carried on with their musical careers. But they got to go on their runs a bit more frequently. Tonight, however, was their first run in months.
The familiar gray fur or Yixing shot past Jongin, a dull blur against the pale moonlight. Yipping, he quickened his own pace.
The forest was thick, and well manicured. He often wondered how many men and hours it took to keep a place like this so well. It was always an errant thought, as their true destination lay within the heart of the forest.
It wasn’t long before they got to the center of it all, the lake all but a piece of the sky pillowed into the earth as an ever-changing picture of heaven’s staircase. Running at full speed, Jongin leapt through the air, his legs extending and transforming into their human counterparts just before he broke the night’s reflection into the pure water of the lake. Not long after, he was joined by a few of the others.
He resurfaced, a wide grin spread across his face. Then, from his left, Tao wrestled him under the surface, his own laughter meshing with the discord of howling, huffing, barking and other audible displays of mirth.
“Alright, you idiots,” Wu Fan spoke up, shaking the water from his raven locks and wiping the remainder out of his eyes with his large hands. “Time to go under.”
With nods of agreement, they all took in deep breaths and submerged, wriggling into the midnight depths of the lake. Their eyes were no longer the usual dark and murky hues of brown but shades of gold, blues and greens.
As they went deeper into the lake, dots of orange glimmered, needles of light piercing the dark of the watery abyss. Getting closer, the need for breathing lessened, and the form of a tree made itself visible. Suddenly they broke through the watery barrier and fell like stones to the now dry earth.
As they drew nearer to the tree, black slithered across their skins, creating sharp corners until complete. Each of the members stood in their places, two neat rows of young men, before they all fell to their knees and laid their foreheads onto clasped fists.
Tendrils of light emerged from the stone in which the small tree was rooted. It couldn’t be more than a sapling, only the height of a banana tree now. The tree of life, born by the rituals put forth by them and their fans alike, had helped foster the growth of their Touchstone.
The earth warmed beneath their knees, veins of light traveling from beneath them and toward the ones emitted by the tree. They joined, flickered, and then died.
“Welcome home,” they chorused, “Mother.”
Chanyeol stood looking through the window of his dorm room, across the valley of city lights and beyond where it was sewn into the blanket of the night. Wide eyes glistened under the touch of the moon, the usual wide smile barred by small, pursed lips. The others had gone out running to celebrate the release of their new song, Wolf. It had been done--their declaration to the world was the second step to becoming a sanctioned pack and become an official part of the Family with Suho as their Alpha. By now, they would have greeted the sapling of Mother, their touchstone.
It was only a matter of time, now.
With a sigh, Chanyeol left the window and opened the right hand he’d had fisted against the window and made it flat against the pane, his own left eye a shimmering amethyst and the other a convoluted maroon.
He brought his left hand to his chest, feeling the palm warm against the skin of his bare chest. Pulling it away, a black pearl dangled midair in the space between his hand and his body. Moving to put his hand to settle at its bottom, the ebony jewel moving toward the moonlight. The spot of light were the moon’s reflection would be, he noticed, was no longer the soft gray he’d become used to. Inside, however, burned a tiny flame.
The flame that would count down the seconds to his fate.
He heard the telltale slam of the dorm’s entrance and the excited chatter of the others. Not expecting the knock at his door however, he hurriedly, clumsily, snatched the pearl out of the air and slammed it against his chest, forcing it back into his core.
“Chanyeol?”
The tall young man sighed, trying his level best to calm his racing pulse. With long strides, he crossed the bedroom and opened the door to let Wu Fan into the room. The taller Chinese closed the door behind himself quietly, whipping around to reach out and jerk Chanyeol into a bone-crushing hug.
“She’s here, Chanyeol,” he whispered quickly, excitedly. He pulled away a little, large hands cupping the shorter one’s cheeks and drawing him into a deep, nostril-flaring kiss. “She’s finally here.”
The pulse that had slowed some one sped up more within Chanyeol, and not of excitement.
He wrapped gangly arms around his lover’s shoulder, long fingers threading through the other’s hair as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. A solitary tear slipped down his cheek unbidden. He took a breath, finally, when Wu Fan released his lips. The Chinese thumbed away the errant droplet, his smile still wide--possibly the last smile he’d ever direct at the Korean-born.
He doesn’t know, Chanyeol reminded himself as he clipped away the edges of hurt from himself at the other’s ignorance. Much less does he understand.
It was the mental mantra he chanted to himself as the night aged and his body was worshipped. It was the very thing that wrote itself on every wall of his mind as he drifted off into sated slumber; the hum of physical pleasure the only thing that kept the tears from bleeding out at the end of it all.
A/N: Comments move me faster than subs do, contrary to popular belief. So keep those comments coming. If you’re going to ignore the rest, at least comment and tell me what you think.
Took me long enough, and yet it’s so short. I guess I’ll have to start small if I’m going to start at all, right? But the mystery has already begun and the Tree of Life has been planted. What does it mean? What does it symbolize? How does it even relate to the foreword?
Got you wrapped around my finger, don’t I? But this is your first chapter, don’t kill me, because the second chapter is on its way, slowly but surely. Thank you all for being patient with me, and I do hope you were not disappointed.
Written to OK ROCK: C.H.A.O.S.M.Y.T.H.
So for those lovely people who are still around. I'm going to reread this and do my best to complete it. Thanks a bunch for not giving up lol, even if you prolly forgot this thing.
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