Myungsoo twisted to look behind him, but the pain in his back made it impossible to turn enough to see where the light had come from. A harsh cry fell from his mouth at the sharp spasm from his injured muscles, but through the pain he felt a light touch on his shoulder. “Easy, don’t move,” a man’s soft voice came from behind him, and though his fighting instinct told him to twist and put this unknown person at his front, he grit his teeth and did as he was bade. The pain was too much for him to argue.

Heat flared up around his shoulders and he felt an uncomfortable press from the stranger’s hands. Moving quickly, Myungsoo jumped to his feet to turn and glare at the man now kneeling in the dirt where the fallen warrior had been. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, but the other man simply raised a brow and motioned at the angry warrior.

“You’re healed, are you not?” he asked softly, and after a moment of confusion Myungsoo realized that the stranger was right. His back was not longer tense and painful; not even a trace of pain lingered where before he’d been loathe to move. His mouth opened then closed, unsure of what to say, and the stranger laughed.

“You’re welcome,” he said simply, standing to his feet and ignoring the mud now caking his knees. It was then that Myungsoo noticed that the stranger was clad in odd clothing for a battle; a light brown linen shirt was tucked into plain brown cloth pants, tall brown boots coming up to his knees being the only other thing he wore. No armor, no leather to help turn a blade, and come to think of it, no weapons either. Myungsoo would never peg this stranger as a warrior, and yet he was the only other person on the battlefield with him. He had to be the source of the strange light that burned those devil creatures. 

Lifting his gaze past the strange clothing, Myungsoo felt his breath catch in his throat for just a moment. The stranger was beautiful, a sharp jaw line beneath smiling lips and a pert nose. His eyes were dark and sharp, with a softness in them that was strange for a warrior, his brows arched and drawn in concern. He was, in all, stunning: no other word could describe him. 

The stranger’s eyes met Myungsoo’s then, and a jolt passed through the warrior when he realized that the other had been similarly examining him in turn. He fought back the flush that threatened to rise on his cheeks and brushed past the stranger, intent on finding his commanding officer and demanding some answers. He paused in mid step, though, and half turned toward the pretty man.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For whatever it is you did here. I owe you.”

He found his commanding officer’s tent, but the man himself was nowhere to be found. Myungsoo frowned, not having seen Park’s body on the field of battle, but he couldn’t quite sit easy with the idea that a man who had faithfully served through all previous battles would desert so suddenly. Moving through his army’s encampment, Myungsoo found the pace eerily evacuated: no soldiers sitting around making bets or horrible jokes about the battle itself, no campfires cooking meat, no horses tied to the picket lines. His steps hurried until he found himself in a fast jog, intent on finding the truth of this matter.

Pushing his way into the General’s tent, he drew to a stop to see half a dozen men turn their faces toward him. He recognized them as some of the highest ranking officers of the Korean army, and he gave a belated bow as they glowered at him. One man whom he recognized as a Lieutenant stood to his feet, one hand dropping toward his sword as he took a step toward Myungsoo, but the General himself cleared his throat in warning. The Lieutenant stopped his advance, but kept his hand on his sword as he glared daggers in the warrior’s direction.

Candles lit the dim inside of the tent, the sky growing darker outside with the oncoming of night and making it nearly impossible to make out everyone seated there, but Myungsoo took note that his own commanding officer was not in attendance. He felt trepidation rise then, and wondered again where the man was; it wasn’t like him to be missing like this.

“What do you want, Kim?” the General asked, and Myungsoo had to first fight down the surprise that the man knew who he was. Dropping another bow, this one lower than the first, he cleared his throat to speak.

“Sir… where are the rest of the men? Sergeant Park?”

Dead silence met his inquiry, and when he glanced at their faces there was a mixture of anger and defeat there. The Lieutenant who’d been advancing on him wa