dormio, dormire (verb) = be/fall asleep; sleep, rest

vivo, vivere (verb) = be alive, live

Donghae stops in the middle of the pavement, looking around with a frown. He has no idea where he is and the compass in his hand seems to get him nowhere. Heaving a sigh, he wonders what was he thinking when he decided coming to Seoul is a good idea. He swears this is the last time he puts his faith in charmed, inanimate things. As if sensing his doubt, the compass’s arrow starts rotating wildly.

“Stop it!” he snaps at it. “You’re troublesome enough even without acting like this…”

It’s moments like this one when Donghae is most grateful that he can’t be seen by humans. He would surely attract attention by talking to himself (though he’s not, talking to himself is still better than talking to objects).

The compass was a gift from his grandfather for Donghae’s 50^th birthday. It’s supposed to lead him to what he’s looking for or what he desires and, though it seemed very useful at first, Donghae learnt the hard way that the compass works only when he expresses his wishes in detail.

“Okay, I’m sorry!” he apologizes when the compass goes crazy in his hand. “You’re not troublesome. You’re helping me a great deal. Now let’s try again – I need help in finding my family’s lost spell book.”

The arrow stills for a few seconds and rotates 180° thrice, before stopping north-west; not that the cardinal points matter, since the arrow means to literally go the signaled way.

Donghae starts walking again, his eyes taking in his surroundings. He remembers why he left Seoul in the first place as he glares at the tall buildings and never-ending passing cars. He prefers quiet villages in the countryside or a hut in the woods or even an almost deserted island; the more silent and secluded, the better. That's why, when his parents decided out of the blue to leave Mokpo and move to Seoul, he only stayed with them for three years. He returned to Mokpo to live with his grandparents instead. He enjoys being alone with his books and magic, and when loneliness comes crawling in he’d rather animate random objects from his house than search companionship from a person; he even names some of the said objects and befriends them. Donghae is weird like that, but he’s a warlock after all – normal does not belong with his kind.

The scenery changes from concrete walls to a mass of greenery. For the five to ten minutes he walks between trees, Donghae feels like he’s strolling trough his beloved woods. Maybe he could get used to Seoul, he thinks, if there are more places like this.

A large building comes into view, and the compass points straight to it. As he approaches from the back, Donghae sees it’s actually a complex of some sorts – like a university campus. He discovers it’s actually a library when he arrives in front of it – The National Library of Seoul. The warlock stares at it doubtfully and then to his compass; the arrow points to the entrance.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks. He doesn’t know what kind of answer he expected, but he receives none. The arrow remains firm in its place. “There better be something useful here, or else I’m replacing you with grandma’s crystal ball.”

He enters the library and keeps following the compass. The place is just as big from the inside. The hallways are both large and tall, and everything is modern and in touch with technology.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Donghae grumbles when the arrow leads him to the staircase. The last time he trusted the compass on a staircase he ended up climbing ten floors – and he didn’t find what he was looking for.

Taking a deep breath to prepare his lungs, he starts going up slowly. The heavy backpack hanging on his shoulders does not make it easy at all. Damn whoever decided to make spell books thick and big!

The compass takes him to the fifth floor, and then in front of a room labeled Maps and Geography.

So it’s not useless in the end, Donghae thinks as he enters the room.

It’s a medium sized place with white walls and wooden furniture. There’s a personnel desk near the door, where a middle-aged woman is sitting and typing on a computer. Maps of places from all over the world are framed on the walls and some are elegantly displayed on stands protected by glass throughout the room. Proceeding further inside, Donghae notices the room is larger than he previously thought; it extends some good meters to the left at the back. Dark-brown shelves are placed against a wall, two sofas against the other two walls and tables for two in front of them. Donghae moves in front of the shelves and pulls one open. It’s filled with maps organized alphabetically, by continents and historical eras; all of the shelves are.

The warlock decides finding Korean maps from the 19^th century until the present would be a good starting point for a research. He looks through the shelves, searching for the K, but stops when he realizes he has no idea if he should look for North Korea or South Korea. He checks both letter and the K, but finds nothing.

A man appears from behind the corner just as he softly, but passionately curses and groans in desperation. Donghae doesn’t bother looking at the insignificant human, used to ignoring their existence. The man stops next to him, pulls out a drawer and places a map inside. He turns to leave, but steps back when Donghae lets out an angry curse.

“Do you need help?” the man asks him.

“Yes! I can’t find—”

Donghae stops mid-sentence, eyes wide and mouth agape. He turns towards the human – a man in his late twenties, a few centimeters taller than Donghae, fit, with short, jet-black hair – and stares, unable to say anything more.

“What are you looking for?” the man asks again, confirming to Donghae that he is indeed talking to him. “The organization is not difficult, but it can be confusing if it’s your first time here.”

“Y-you can see me!” Donghae squeaks, startling the human.

The man frowns at him, taking a moment to answer. “Obviously,” he eventually says. “Are you alright? You look worryingly pale.”

Donghae knows he must look way worse than the man says, and his face might go from white to blue if he doesn’t remember how to breathe soon. How can he, though, when he has found a Seer?!

~*~

Warlocks have existed as long as humans have. The legend says the very first warlocks had been born from the union between a human woman and a demon, and they were no more than one hundred all over the world. Because demons are dark, corrupted creatures, their offspring had human bodies, but distinct signs that showed they were anything but that – horns, claws, unusual skin or eye colours. People feared them and cursed their existence; even their own parents. Most of the unfortunate ones to have a monster as a baby had killed the newborns on the spot; those who did not have the heart to murder had abandoned them somewhere far away. Rare were the ones brave enough to keep and raise them.

These creatures inherited their demon-father’s powers, but they did not know how to control them; yet another reason to be feared and banished by humans. Those who survived through childhood had learnt to use them in time. They had come up with symbols and incantations, and had called them runes and spells. One of the very first runes had been the Algiz – a protection rune; accompanied by a concealing spell, warlocks used it to hide themselves from humans: every new-born warlock would get it, rendering them invisible to humans. Even though in time demons have been banished from Earth, never to return, and warlocks were born with less and less distinct marks as the generations progressed, they still use it in the present.

However – for some reason no one could discover – not all humans could be fooled by the Algiz; there were some that could still see warlocks. They called them Seers.

Fearing that these special humans might expose them, warlocks invented a new rune: the Mannaz – man, mankind. They mixed it with a binding spell and put it on the Seers, chaining the humans to them. Under this spell, Seers were forced to serve the warlock who put it on them; more than that, if the warlock died, the Seer would die as well.

As warlocks had started looking more and more human in time, until you could no longer tell between a half-demon and a human, the Seers had become insignificant. They were rare and represented a threat no longer. In time, the binding spell became a promise of everlasting friendship, rather than enslavement.

~*~

Donghae has never met a Seer before, not even once has he laid eyes on someone who possesses the sight - and he has been living for almost 90 years. He thought they are only a myth. Neither his parents, grandparents or his still-alive relatives have ever used the Binding spell; it was the only one of the original spells that Donghae has not mastered yet (he could do all the other ones with closed eyes and hands tied by the time he was 20; yes, he is very enthusiastic when it comes to magic).

So it's not surprising that the first thing he thinks of when the realisation downs on him is to get acquainted with the human. Perhaps if they get along, and if some kind of bond forms between them, the man will allow Donghae to try the Binding spell. Besides, if he can help him with the maps, maybe he could also provide help in finding the book.

Yes, Donghae, you're brilliant! No wonder half of the Lee's hate you.

"Hey, are you alright?" the human asks, stepping closer to Donghae.

On pure instinct, Donghae jerks back. The brunet freezes, staring at the warlock with concern, and Donghae curses himself; because he has never talked to a human before, and even though they're not that different from his kind, he still finds himself anxious every time the stranger addresses him. He's never been the social-butterfly type anyway.

"Uh ... I-I'm looking for s-some maps," he manages to stammer.

No , you're in the Maps and Geography section, his brain is quick to mock him. If only it were so effective when Donghae truly needed it to be.

The man is kind enough to let Donghae's stupid answer go. "Okay ... what kind of maps?"

"Korean."

"Do you need a certain century or historical era?"

"Since 19th century until now, I-I think."

"Alright. Come with me," the man says with a gentle smile. He walks away from the shelves, and Donghae hurries after him. "The good maps are locked so not anyone can access them or take them without permission. I have to ask for the key."

"Is there anything you need, Hyukjae-ssi?" the middle-aged woman asks when they stop at the front desk.

"Yes, Mrs. Jang. I need the key for the Korean maps. This young man wants to see some from the 19th century."

Donghae swears his heart stopped as soon as the words left the man's lips. He should've known better! He should've waited by the shelves!

The woman frowns so hard that wrinkles cover her entire forehead. "What young man?"

"Huh? Him," Hyukjae replies, pointing at Donghae.

The warlock buries his face in his hands, waiting for chaos to burst any second now.

"Hyukjae-ssi," the woman whispers slowly, "there is no one behind you."

"What do you mean-?" Hyukjae whips his head towards Donghae, staring at him as if he doesn't know who to believe: the very physical, very real person behind him or the woman who claims there's no one there?

The woman gets up, and puts one hand on the brunet's shoulder and one on his forehead. "Are you feeling alright, Hyukjae-ssi? Maybe you should sit for a few moments. I'm going to bring you some water."

"What-?!"

"Dormi!" Donghae commands in a moment of total panic.

The woman's eyes shut, her body turns limp and she would've collapsed on the floor if Hyukjae didn't catch her. Donghae is impressed by himself; considering how shaky his voice is and the tornado of anxiety he's caught in, the spell shouldn't have worked.

It did, however, and Hyukjae looks at him as if Donghae is Satan himself. The warlock can't blame him or even feel bad because of it.

"What did you do?! What the are you?!"

"I'm sorry! I panicked!"

"You panicked?! You?! I'm the one facing a - a demon!"

Donghae winces at the man's harsh voice, feeling like he will start crying soon. "I'm only half-demon," he whimpers. "I really didn't mean to! I'm just as scared as you are!"

"Great," Hyukjae mumbles. "I'm holding an unconscious woman and a demon's crying beside me. Can my day get any worse than this?"

"Half-demon!" Donghae sobs.

~*~

"Are you going to tell me what just happened? I can feel my sanity slipping away with each passing second," Hyukjae asks, rubbing his temples. He has been doing that for the past ten minutes.

Donghae nods pitifully, but can't seem to find the strength to actually talk.

Hyukjae had to deal with the earlier unfortunate situation by himself. Donghae was too lost in his tears and a possible mental breakdown to fix the mess he has caused, so Hyukjae took the initiative. Someone had to do something after all. The man placed the unconscious employee on her chair, and left the room without a word. Donghae sobbed even more; he was left alone to deal with something he had no idea how to deal with, and he lost the only Seer he has ever met. He felt like the sky would fall upon him right at that moment. But then Hyukjae returned, a couple of tissues and a cup of water in his hand, and lead the bawling warlock to the sofas. He sat Donghae on one of the small couches, and handed him the tissues and the water. They spent the following minutes in silence, one wondering if he had gone crazy and the other trying to compose himself.

"M-my name is Lee Donghae. I'm a - a warlock," Donghae says, looking expectantly at Hyukjae, waiting for a reaction. The brunet doesn't say anything though and not a muscle twitches on his rigid face, so Donghae continues: "I do magic."

"Prove it," Hyukjae demands.

Donghae fiddles with his fingers under the table. "Wasn't that poor woman enough?"

"I've seen countless magic shows. I'm going to need more than that if you want me to truly believe you."

The warlock purses his lips in thought, his brain looking for an innocent, but credible spell. As his eyes land on an unused tissue, a wide grin spreads on his face at the idea it gives him. He grabs the tissue and starts folding it deftly; the piece is small and it would've worked a lot better on paper, but magic gives him dexterity, and in a few minutes he presents a bird figurine to Hyukjae.

“Vive,” he whispers.

The bird’s tiny wings start fluttering at the command. It rises from the table and floats on the spot a little before flying over to the dumbstruck human and landing on his shoulder. The bird tweets happily into Hyukjae’s ear and even pecks it.

“I think it likes you,” Donghae beams, overjoyed by the result. “You can keep it if you want. I like to give them names. It makes them happy. You should try it!”

Hyukjae raises a finger to gently caress the bird’s head. “Do you do this often?” he asks. “Bring things to life and befriend them?”

“I … uh, sometimes?” the warlock flushes. “They’re good company when I get lonely. They’re easier to talk to than people.”

“So you really are a wizard, huh?”

“I’m a warlock!”

“There’s a difference?”

Perhaps Donghae is just hopeful, but he swears he sees genuine interest in Hyukjae’s eyes.

“Yes. As I said earlier,” Donghae explains, “we, warlocks, are half-demon. Wizards, sorcerers, or any other kind of magic users, are entirely human. Their magic is different from ours; adapted to their humanity, you could say. Our magic is pure demonic power.”

“So you’re some kind of Magnus Bane, but without the glitter.”

Donghae frowns. “Who?”

“It’s a book character,” Hyukjae laughs. It sounds good in Donghae’s ears, even if it’s a bit loud. The brunet’s eyes linger on Donghae, making the warlock squirm in his seat. He has done that often since they sat, and Donghae wonders if it’s because the man is trying to find a sign which distinguishes the warlock from humans. “Why couldn’t she see you?”

Donghae rolls the left sleeve of his T-shirt over his shoulder, where the Algiz is crested on his skin – an Y like symbol with a third straight line between the two diagonals. “Because of this,” he says. Hyukjae leans over the table to have a closer look. “It’s a protection rune. In the beginning, warlocks were born with demonic marks on them, and because of this, they were abandoned or killed. They created this rune to hide themselves from human’s eyes.”

“How can I see you then?” Hyukjae asks as his fingers ghost over the rune. As if his touch burnt, Donghae jerks away. “I’m sorry! Does it hurt?”

No, it tingles, Donghae thinks as he rolls back the sleeve. It’s the first time a human touches him, and it leaves his skin tingling and his cheeks on fire.

“A few humans can still see us, even with the rune,” he says, looking anywhere but at Hyukjae. “We don’t know why, it just happens. We call them Seers.”

“So, I’m a Seer?”

“Well – you can see me.”

Hyukjae leans back on the sofa and runs a hand through his short hair. A frown creases his forehead, and he looks deep in thought.

Donghae can’t help notice how handsome this human is. He has never paid attention to humans before; they are as insignificant to him as they are to any warlock. With Hyukjae though, Donghae finds himself wondering about anything and everything concerning this particular human. I must be intrigued because he’s a Seer, he reasons. He’s an enigma to me, just like I am to him.

“It’s overwhelming, everything you told me,” Hyukjae sighs after a while.

Donghae is aware of that fact. He is surprised that Hyukjae had not left running, or called him mental or any synonym of that word. “Are you frightened?” he asks. Hyukjae does not look scared at all, merely disbelieving, but the warlock wants to be sure.

“Frightened?” Hyukjae scoffs. “Of what? Of you?”

Donghae nods bashfully. His family always used to tell him how humans are scared of their kind, and how because they’re frightened, they would try to hurt them. Hyukjae seems to shatter that belief like fragile glass; much like he does with everything Donghae has been thought about humans.

“Donghae, I think you’re the most harmless person I’ve ever met,” the man says. Donghae gasps, and his eyes widen – because warlocks are anything but harmless, and yet, Hyukjae believes Donghae is inoffensive. “Sure, you freaked me out when you knocked out Mrs. Jang. However, I realized you meant no harm the moment you started to mewl like a baby. You said you were just as scared as I was. But that’s not true, is it? Truth is you’re more terrified of me than I will ever be of you.”

It is true, but Donghae is too embarrassed to say anything. He feels as if their roles have reversed: Hyukjae being the powerful warlock and Donghae the pitiful human. His family taught him that humans are puny creatures that cower under their greatness. On the contrary, Hyukjae is like a titan: he is neither scared, nor traumatized; he is astonished, stunned, but still standing tall no matter what Donghae throws at him. And Donghae – Donghae is like a fearful kitten that needs coaxing and comfort.

“I think we both need some time alone,” Hyukjae says. “You need to calm down, and I … I need to sort out my thoughts about all this. So I’ll leave first.”

Donghae jumps from his seat just as Hyukjae gets up, startling both the human and the sleeping bird on his shoulder. “Wait! I really need those maps!”

Hyukjae rubs his nape, and the bird tweets in indignation, flying from his shoulder to the warlock’s head. Donghae wonders if the man will refuse to help him despite how nice he had been until then.

“Maybe tomorrow, okay?”

With a forced smile, the Seer moves past Donghae. The bird origami flies back on his shoulder, and Hyukjae gently takes it off and hides it into his jacket.

“Hey, Donghae,” Hyukjae says as he turns around, “I … I want to apologize.”

“Whatever for?”

“For calling you a demon earlier.”

“W-what? No, it’s okay!” Donghae shakes his hands frantically. “I mean, I am part demon—”

“I know you are,” Hyukjae interrupts, “but it’s meant as an insult most of the times and I … I meant it, then.” He looks ashamed of himself, and even though it did hurt Donghae when he said it, the warlock doesn’t want Hyukjae to feel guilty. He was at fault too for startling the man. “You don’t deserve such cruel words thrown at you. Please forgive me.”

Donghae stares at Hyukjae, completely dumbstruck. Slowly, a grateful smile pulls at his lips, and the tingling is back again – in his whole body this time. He barely suppresses the urge to throw himself in the man’s arms as he lets out a quivering “Thank you, Hyukjae.”

Hyukjae smiles back at him, and it’s a genuine one, unlike before. He nods towards him and leaves without another word.

The warlock stands there long after the Seer had left, with a silly, but happy grin on his face. Perhaps Hyukjae is the one, he thinks as he eventually leaves. As he reaches the door, his eyes fall upon the still asleep woman at the front desk. His smile disappears faster than a poorly done spell, along with the little hope that started blooming within him.

And that’s why I don’t leave the house …