Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue

A black haired boy sits by a giant window on a rainy day, looking out into a gray world a large book in his tiny hands.

Sighing, he turns his head away from the window to the noisy scene inside. The other kids have gathered around a new admission to the orphanage, broken toys thoughtlessly thrown on the floor in favor of something new. The boy stared at the ratty toys they seldom used, discolored from age and neglect —the toys not unlike himself, abandoned by time and the children he hoped would like him.

The boy observes the children crowded around the new kid’s lanky form, trying to entice him to join their team for hide-and-seek. He recalls not a single one of them having ever shown such a keen interest in him, no matter how hard he tried.

When he first tried sharing his interests, the kids mocked him. When his curious mind had asked his teachers too many questions, they shooed him away. He felt a pang of jealously in his chest and returned his gaze to the wet world beyond the window.

Their aversion to him no longer hurt as much. It still stung, but he would not cry himself to sleep like he used to. The boy learned long ago to quiet himself and began to shrink into his mind, finding comfort in other stories.

His heart hardened a bit for every rejection, and at the tender age of 10, he had come to understand the meaning of loneliness— deep within his soul. 

He took a deep breath to steady himself, clutching the book tighter to his chest before opening it to read again.

“The sleeping beast lies still in the wood, its gentle nature often misunderstood...”

Large raindrops pelt the window as he reads, and the boy lets his mind drift to a different life. One where he can defeat monsters twice his size, has more friends than his arms can hold, and he is more than a ruined toy nobody wants.

The child knows that isn’t his life, but a part of him refuses to give up hoping that maybe, just maybe, he has a place in the world, and it's filled with those dreams.

Unknowingly, his heart sends out a desperate wish that not even fate can decline. 

“Hey!” a scrawny boy with messy brown hair, the new child, he recognizes, enters his view, squatting in front of the boy— head resting atop his crossed arms. “whatcha readin?”

The dark haired boy puzzled at the bold intrusion but did not reject it; The loneliness in his heart always begging him to try no matter how many times it hurt him.

“Tales from Rosewood. ” He answers, waiting for the brown haired boy to run off or taunt him.

But, to his surprise, the new child remains, large eyes still watching with keen interest. Feeling a bit braver that the intruder hadn’t run off upon hearing the title he offers.

“Would you like to read it with me?”

The brown haired boy flashes a goofy smile and plops down beside him, waiting.

The dark haired boy begins to read the book from the start, feeling sunrays warm his back— the rain halting its barrage without his notice.

“Magic is all around us, hidden in the people that surround us. Try to imagine it if you could—faries all gathered in the wood…”

The boys sat there reading in peace, fate slowly weaving their lives together.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ

Chapter Text

ROSEWOOD

Matthew sensed a headache blooming, feeling like he was talking to a wall, or rather several walls.

He had been summoned to the faerie council chamber for what he thought was a routine check-in, but had quickly turned into a trial. Looking at the displeased faces of the five faeries seated before him, a trial he was not winning.

He should’ve known something was wrong when they brought him to Undertree instead of the usual Lightroom above them. Should’ve paused before the giant ornate doors had shut behind him, and he saw the full council instead of his mentor.

Matthew recognized too late how utterly screwed he was, and he’d been scrambling to defend himself for the past hour. The council’s relentless barrage of questions and concerns left no real room for him to speak— they continued back and forth, making no progress.

“He’s not a duck,” Matthew deadpanned for what felt like the hundredth time, the bird nestled in his arms quacked in agreement.

The council, still not pleased with his response, persisted with the same argument that currently trapped him in the underground room.

“The animal is calamitous and will bring ruin to us all, it cannot be allowed to roam our lands freely, it is fated to die.” A particularly devout councilman, Celik spat at the room, his moth-like wings flapping in anger.

Matthew sighed internally, not one of these fae could use their heightened hearing for anything, it seems. This meeting was an absolute disaster and a joke.

“I’m tired of repeating myself,” Mathew shouted, “he is not a bad omen or harbinger of death! He is cursed, and we need to help him." The duck shifted in his grasp to quack defiantly at the council puffing its chest slightly.

“Please, just give me some time to break this curse, I’ve spoken to him — there is a normal faerie in here, I swear it.”

The five council members fell silent and exchanged worried looks from their wooden thrones a few feet in front of Matthew.

They were seated in a semicircle, so that each pair of eyes could pick him apart from a different angle, he assumed, looking for weakness.

Still silent, the council was clearly having a telepathic conversation he wasn’t allowed to hear.

So Matthew, awaiting their response, decided to open up his own mental connection to the animal in his arms. The duck spoke almost instantly when the link opened.

Matthew my honey, get my scarf from your bag. If I’m going to die in this horrible body, I’d at least like to look good. Also, before I go, I must tell you, your emerald mushroom soup needs a lot of work. I almost greeted my ancestors last time.

The duck twisted its long neck to look at him, body slightly shaking in what Matthew knew was laughter.

Hey, everyone said that soup was delicious! And you’re not gonna die. Probably—Maybe— but if you do die, I promise to use your body to make a better soup.

It was Matthew’s turn to silently chuckle as the duck looked at him— unimpressed.

At least don’t over-salt me.

The link was silent for a moment as they stared at each other, before erupting into mental laughter. The link was vibrating in their minds with warmth.

The moment of levity was short-lived as the head councilwoman, Gaia, began to speak,

“How come no other faerie can hear the creature Matthew?” Her black eyes shifted between them like she knew they had been speaking.

“I understand you’ve grown attached to the thing, but we cannot risk the safety of everyone here on your word alone.”

Although her tone was soft, Matthew felt the finality in her words and knew the council had already made a decision. His pale green wings fluttered slightly in frustration as he thought. No matter what he felt towards the council, he had to win them over; they both needed to leave this room alive, but his options were decreasing by the minute.

He racked his brain for any solution, but the more Matthew tried to think, the more desperate his solutions became. No plan he could currently conjure was going to work.

Think, Matthew think, think, think, he tried commanding his brain —spiraling.

Matthew’s least favorite council member, Azar, broke the silence.

“Sappling, give us the beast and be on your way, we’ve wasted enough time entertaining your silly story. We have much more important matters to discuss, so unless you wish to share the creature’s fate, I suggest you cooperate.”

Matthew flinched at his words, panic starting to set in. He was running out of time, he had to think, to say something—anything,

The book Matthew, the book, a familiar voice rang through his mind, accompanied by images of a pink crystalline tome.

Matthew peered down at the duck in his arms and recognized the voice as his. His fear subsided as he felt the warmth of the animal at his side — a steady rock shielding him from the heavy waves of doubt crashing in his mind.

He was not alone, he reminded himself —he had Taerae, his best friend, the cursed duck he had come to love as family.

“Of course! How could I have been so stupid!” Matthew shouted to the room, Taerae’s words finally registering in his brain.

“Excellent, hand over the creature.” Azar commanded.

“What, no way!” Matthew snapped, clutching the duck tighter in his arms.

The council members all looked at him, puzzled. Azar began to open his mouth again, but Matthew interrupted, " I can find the tome of unknowns! ”

The air in the room stilled, with every council member now laser-focused on him, Matthew knew he had to take this chance.

“The duck has seen its location,” He continued, shifting Taerae in his arms to grab him by the center, holding the duck out in front of the council.

Taerae kicked his dangling webbed feet slightly, and made the most affirmative quack he could manage.

“you are saying that vermin” Azar sneered pointing a bony finger at the duck,

“found a forbidden book that has been lost for ages.” He paused to send a withering glare at the duo, “and you just now recalled this, as we’re discussing if this thing should even be allowed to breath, you cannot beli. ..”

His rant was cut short by the head councilwoman, “Are you certain? " she questioned.

Before Matthew could respond, another voice chimed in, “Gaia, you don’t know if the book will help you find him.” A normally quiet councilwoman, Lir cautioned. The two council women exchanged frustrated glances.

“ He’s also claiming the creature is a seer, We haven’t had fate bless, many saplings with that power in years.” the eldest councilman Esen remarked.

“I am not willing to risk our realm’s safety for the claims of a petulant snow fairy, with no proof— who’s to say he wasn’t sent here as a spy to steal our artifacts?” Councilman Celick chided.

“We cannot ignore a possible seer with visions of the book, they are too valuable!” Esen spoke again.

Matthew’s head bounced between the council members as they argued. Unsure if his plan was working.

Matthew directed his thoughts at Taerae, You’re sure about the book, right? —I mean I trust you, but half of them want you dead, so I’m gonna need a little more.

Taerae looked up at Matthew, shaking his head, and sent his response,

My sweet, simple Matthew, these old crones just need some bait. Tell them it’s pink and covered in crystals, just like I showed you. Just don’t tell them I’m not exactly sure where it is, or we’ll lose any leverage we have.

Matthew’s response was instant—distressed, What do you mean you don’t know where it is Tae! You said you saw it.

The duck wiggled in Matthew’s arm, turning its head away a little offended. I said I can feel where it is. I did see it once, but it’s not my fault the stupid thing is doing a tour of the realms and won’t stay still.

Matthew realized he had technically just told a huge lie to the council and hoped they didn’t press him for the book’s exact location.

Okay, Taerae, but if Celick tries to stab me, I’ll throw you at him and run.

 Hey! Where’s your loyalty, you little— Matthew cut the connection and returned his attention to the council, still locked in a heated argument, while Taerae’s ineffectual beak began pecking at his bicep in response to their conversation.

“The book is dusty pink, covered in small crystals, and is about that big” he shouted over the bickering. Then motioned to a rock the size of a textbook sitting on the floor, before a slim door at the back of the chamber. The council paused their fighting to stare at Matthew again.

“How did you know that?” The elderly councilman leaned forward, intrigued now. “You are not a fairy of the spring realm; our artifacts and their appearance should not be known to you.”

At this comment, Matthew almost wished they did kill him, fearing for a moment he too had been cursed to repeat himself endlessly—but he tried one last time hoping they would actually listen to him.

“I didn’t know, Taerae, this faerie,” he lifted the duck again before the council shaking him a bit for emphasis, “showed me! If you’d please let me go, I can get your stupid book, return him to his regular form, and nobody has to get executed.”

Matthew was pleading by the last few words, not caring how desperate he sounded.

There was silence again, and Matthew feared the worst, dropping his head in defeat.

“One month” his head shot up to see the black eyed head councilwoman staring at him.

“Gaia, you can’t leave the retrieval of such an important object to…” Azar started but stopped when the woman’s pitch black eyes landed on the councilman, commanding his silence.

“You have one month to bring us the tome and return this creature to his original form if he is truly cursed as you say,” she proclaimed, dark eyes falling on Matthew again.

She held out her arm and produced a small crystal ball from her palm, and with her magic, sent it floating towards Matthew at the center of the chamber.

“Use this communication crystal to give me updates on your progress.”

Relief washed over Matthew, he finally had a chance to save his friend; he could do this— no need to stress.

“However…”

Matthew’s stomach dropped as the woman’s dark gaze bore into him even deeper, an overwhelming sense of dread flooding his senses. His muscles locking as the crystal orb still drifted towards him—appearing more like a bomb than a gift.

“If your claim is false and you fail to find the tome, you will be persecuted for treason and subjected to the same punishment as the duck. Do you understand and accept this fate?” she said, eyes unblinking— waiting.

The orb now hung in the air before Matthew, looming in front of his face like the moon ready to eclipse the sun, plunging his world into darkness.

Involuntarily, Matthew was shirking away from the perceived threat, shielding the duck as best he could. Taerae burrowing himself deeper into Matthews arm.

“We will also need to connect you both with our mark so you cannot escape or deceive us with any other fae. The process is a little painful, but if you are telling the truth, there is no need to be frightened.”

Fecking distrustful rats, they really wanted them dead, he thought as Matthew stared at the crystal before him. The pitch black orb seemed to stare right back, mocking him, daring him to retreat.

For the first time in his life, Matthew felt his confidence falter. Could he do this? Was it fair to link their fates together? The weakest part of his mind was asking if he could die for his friend when it came down to it.

Matthew took a moment to consider what the councilwoman asked, “Do you accept this fate?”

Fate seemed like an odd word to him. He had always believed hard work and love could accomplish anything. Never considered fate to have much bearing on his life. He had survived by being cunning and friendly, not on wishes and dreams—he did not live by Fate’s design. Yet, all the council had done since he entered this room was yap about how doomed Taerae’s fate was and that they should just accept it.

Matthew, you don’t have to. Tarerae’s voice interrupted his thoughts, You tired Matthew, It’s okay. This is my fault anyway, I can’t let you die for me if this doesn’t work…please say no you idio— Matthew shut him out again.

His friend was always like this. They would bicker and tease each other but Matthew knew his friendship meant the world to Taerae. When they had first met in the woods, Matthew could sense they were kindred spirits—the duck’s playful nature not unlike his own. But he had also seen deep sorrow in his friend; each day Taerae remained in a body not his own, his hope faded. Taerae never asked for more, never put himself first, and never believed he deserved to be saved.

Matthew decided before he walked into the room that he would break the curse or anyone who stood in his way. The council was challenging his resolve, and Matthew was not going to surrender.

He was all Taerae had, and even now, with his life on the line, his friend would not ask for his help.

But Matthew didn’t need Taerae to beg him, he could be brave for both of them.

Matthew would not bow to fate or a future he could not see; his only fear was losing his best friend, of a world devoid of Taerae and all the joy that accompanied him. Matthew steeled himself, casting any doubt to the back of his mind.

His new conviction gave him the confidence to stand a little taller, no longer shaken under the scrutiny of the fae before him.

He grabbed the crystal from the air and shoved it in his pocket as he declared.

“I accept your offer, head councilwoman.”

Taerae tried to quack at him in protest, wiggling in his arms. Matthew assumed he was also yelling at him through their connection.

Although blocked, he could still feel a pounding in his mind like someone banging on the door.

Nevertheless, Matthew had made his choice, and he squeezed the duck a little tighter— a warning to be still.

“Very well, approach and we will bind you,” Gaia commanded.

Matthew stepped forward, kneeling before the council, holding the duck close to his chest with both arms, still wary of the other council members. The council all rose in unison, stepping forward to join their hands in a semicircle around the pair, eyes glowing bright white, they started chanting.

“You who seek a deadly fate, we mark you till the moon passes through the ninth gate. Fulfill your promise with haste and deftness or burn through the magic that connects us.”

Matthew felt a strange sensation fall over his skin like someone was sprinkling spiked dust all over him. He glanced down at Taerae to see that the duck must’ve been feeling the same, as he started to flutter his wings slightly and was violently sneezing.

Matthew would’ve made a joke to tease him, but Taerae began seizing in his grasp, head whipping wildly from side to side. Matthew struggled to maintain his hold at the sudden movement as he tried to find the source of the bird’s discomfort.

Examining Taerae for any signs of injury, he finally spotted something forming on his neck, small lumps trying to burst through his feathers. Matthew could only watch in horror as a mark, which looked like a rose encased in a thorny circle, started to appear on Taerae’s neck.

The bird was still thrashing in his arms—feathers and flesh burning, bleeding, and smoking under the spell.

Before he could fully process what was happening, his own neck began to sting. He winced as the pain began to build, the mark carving itself into his flesh. Clenching his teeth, he willed himself to stay conscious, the pain overwhelming his senses. Matthew felt his body buckling under the strain— his muscles screaming for release.

He had chosen this, Matthew reminded himself, and he would not give the council any reason to think him weak.

Skin still roasting under the spell, Matthew bit his lip until it bled and commanded his body to stay upright as he held the bird even closer to his chest, trying to comfort his friend until the branding was complete.

The bird still flailing in his hold, Matthew could only send his words for comfort, “I won’t abandon you, Taerae, you may have started this alone, but we will finish it together.”

Taerae slowed his erratic movements and peered back at him, eyes exhausted, together…Matthew heard back faintly as the duck fell limp in his arms, the spell draining his energy.

Matthew still felt the magic slithering around his neck like a noose waiting to be tightened, and just as black spots began to cloud his vision, the pressure released, and he let out a gasp he hadn’t noticed he was holding.

“You have been bound,” the council chanted in one loud voice that echoed through the tight walls of the chamber. The haunting noise piercing Matthew right down to his bones.

The marks’ magic finally settled on him, sitting heavy like a collar, the sensation making him shiver.

They couldn’t go back now, he had chosen a fate that could end them both.

“One month,” Gaia repeated before she turned, gliding through a slim door at the back of the chamber. The rest of the council followed slowly.

“On your way now, sapling, you and that thing are free to go. We look forward to hearing about all your success.” Azar mocked from over his shoulder as he shut the small door behind him, not a shred of sincerity in his tone, Matthew noted.

No longer in agonizing pain, Matthew dared to look down, tears stinging his eyes immediately as he beheld the exhausted bird in his arms, lying far too still— heartbeat faint but present.

He burned the image into his brain. Taerae’s liveliness drained from him; his long neck hanging limp at an awkward angle, and his once vibrant white feathers were disordered and matted crimson red from the mark.

This is a warning Matthew told himself, a reminder of what would happen if he failed. The weight of his decision fell heavier on him as he looked at the quiet bird in his arms.

He glared at the slim door the council had left through, silently cursing them for their harsh verdict.

Matthew didn’t trust them, and their actions today had made him even more wary. They had been far too eager to kill his friend, most likely to hide something.

What exactly they were hiding, Matthew was unsure, but he would not find his answer in this dungeon. He worked best under the sun, his body suddenly itching to be bathed in its golden rays.

All at once, Matthew felt very trapped in the windowless chamber. He needed to leave, anxiety pressing his chest, he needed to get started. He refused to acknowledge the exhaustion, begging his body to rest. His limbs were heavy when he stood, but he returned his gaze to the injured bird in his arms.

“Taerae first,” he whispered, protective instincts kicking his body back into gear.

Gently placing the bird onto a pillow inside the wicker carrier strapped to his side and patting the crystal in his pocket, making sure it was secure, he was ready to leave.

Taking a deep breath, he turned and started running to the giant doors he’d entered through, shouldering them open, continuing to run down the hallway. The chamber was located under a large oak tree rooted in the center of their village.

There was one entrance and one exit for all the residents of Rosewood. Knowing this, Matthew pushed forward, eyes fixed on the streaks of sunlight illuminating the steps of the staircase ahead. Arriving at the stairs, he counted fifteen hurdles between him and freedom.

Forcing his last bit of strength to move his body, Matthew began to ascend the wide staircase. He moved with as much speed as he could muster, his wings pushing him forward when his legs threatened to give out. Almost seeing the exit, he fluttered his wings for one last boost that pushed him over the final step and onto the grass outside.

Stumbling forward, he felt the sunlight warm his skin, soothing him, but the sudden change in brightness blinded him.

“Hanbin,” Matthew muttered to himself, turning on the spot restlessly trying to locate the man.

He had walked here with Matthew, and the faerie had promised to wait for him right by the entrance, so where had he gone?

Matthew started to feel dizzy from all the movement. His eyes still adjusting to the sun, his body starting to sway as fatigue hit him.

“Matthew? Matthew, what’s wrong…hey” He heard a familiar voice say as Matthew felt arms gripping his shoulders. He managed to focus his eyes and identify the pink-haired form shaking him.

“Hanbin?” Gentle hands were cupping his face now and patting his head. Matthew felt his whole body relax under Hanbin’s comforting touch.

“I’m here Chu, what happened… what’s on your neck? Can you look at me?…chu… stay with me…your bird… rose.”

The voice faded as darkness filled Matthew’s vision. He wanted to sleep. Adrenaline draining from his body in a trusted embrace.

Before the exhaustion pulled him under, he opened his mind

I will save you, no matter the cost, he thought to Taerae, I won’t lose you.

There was no response, but Matthew felt a weak, warm spark at the other end, and that was enough.

Matthew let the darkness fall over him.

( ︶｡︶✽)

Chapter Text

ROSEVALE

Gunwook understood three things from a young age; first, when your parents leave you behind, the rest of the world kinda does as well.

Second, there is no situation that an active imagination cannot save.

And third, faeries were real and everyone he told considered him crazy, except one person— the moppy headed brunette standing below him, lost in a story about his dog.

Gunwook had been only half listening as he tried to do his job. Shelving books at his university library wasn’t exactly glamorous work, but it made him happy. Gunwook had always felt at home in the library.

He enjoyed learning new things, and the connection to the world he felt every time he opened a new book — like he could hear the past and the future speak to him through the pages.

He knew his sections by heart. Partially because he spent a good chunk of his time sorting the books in them, but mostly because of the section’s content. Gunwook loved fiction and the natural sciences. He spent time in the science section because of his major, but the fiction section was his true love.

His town, Rosevale, was already famous for being a hot spot of strange activity, and he had chosen this university over the others because of its vast fiction section— although to Gunwook, it wasn’t fiction.

Despite all the strange sightings and phenomena present in the town, it was still frowned upon to classify them as scientific. So any studies that regarded the fantastical were put in the fiction section.

Many of the stories lacked physical evidence, making them hard to verify, but the anecdotes, drawings, and research were so detailed that it was also hard to just brush them off as musings of crazy people.

It became the town’s secret that something was going on, but most people didn’t care to identify exactly what.

Gunwook was never content with that, and had vigorously sought the truth his whole life. He believed all the stories ever since he was small.

At first, the stories had just been a comfort to him, keeping him company when nobody else would. But the more he read and observed, the more he noticed his world reflecting the books a little too closely.

Gunwook had always seen shadows dancing in the corner of his vision, spotted flowers blooming in odd places, and been drawn to strange mushroom circles in the woods.

But what carried Gunwoook through all the years was his belief. He always felt something lurking on the edge of his mind, begging to be seen— a feeling in his gut he could never ignore, pushing him to dig for more.

His mind always hungered for the unexplained and demanded an answer— an explanation, a missing puzzle piece in his fractured mind that would put his distorted view of the world back in place. However, for the rest of Rosevale, the unknown could stay that way.

Even so, Gunwook’s curious mind never rested; then, in his first year, he’d hit the jackpot. The head librarian hired him because of his height, stating she was too short to reach the higher shelves, even with the ladder he currently stood on.

Having worked here for almost two years, he had sifted through nearly all the archives and books, mainly the ones about folklore, so he could shelve them in his sleep.

Something he could use as the man prattled on below him.

“…and after saying she looked like a rejected minion, he called her outfit tacky and weird! Can you believe? My beautiful and stylish Eumppapa, tacky.” His friend huffed, as he passed Gunwook another book from the cart he stood beside. 

“I carefully dressed her in that yellow raincoat and supreme sweater! Not to mention the adorable pink boots, is he blind!”

A loud shushing was heard as they both whipped their heads to the side, spotting another student glaring at them from her study cubicle further up the section. Gunwook mouthed a quick sorry to her before returning to his task.

“Anyway, if he hadn’t been so pretty, I would’ve… hey, are you listening to me, Gunwook?” the tall boy whispered, eyeing the cubicle, wary of being shushed again.

Gunwook sighed, shelving the last book he was holding, and climbed down the ladder to face his agitated friend.

“Gyuvin, I am listening, and I think you’re old enough to know not to talk to strangers in the woods.”

Gyuvin gasped softly, clutching his shirt in an over-dramatic attempt to look offended.

Gunwook smirked at him before grabbing his cart and pushing it down the aisle to the next section. Purposefully walking to the further sections as to not disturbing anyone else with their conversation.

Gyuvin’s fake shock faded quickly as he grabbed the ladder and hurried after him down the aisle. Finally catching up, he saw Gunwook already crouching on the floor, mechanically shelving more books.

Gyuvin placed the ladder against the bookshelf before squatting down at Gunwook’s eye level to finish his story.

“He’s not a stranger, I’m telling you! I keep seeing him when I go to walk Eumppapa, but he’s like super weird. He only carries a big black bag he won’t open, and refuses to approach Eumppapa.. Oh my gosh, wait, maybe he’s a faerie!”

Gyuvin’s voice became much more animated as he leaned even closer to Gunwook.

“You know, he was suspiciously handsome too. Also red hair is a very bold choice in a small town, ah—and his eyes were this piercing blue...Yes, very strange indeed.” Gyuvin muttered while nodding to himself like he had uncovered a great mystery.

“Oh, and most importantly. Anyone who doesn’t think my Eumppapa is cute must not be from this world.”

Gunwook rolled his eyes at the last comment, but his curiosity was piqued about the strange man.

“Okay, so what’s his name? Does he live in the area or go to school here? Couldn’t he be like a model on some type of mental health retreat?”

The last statement sounded silly to Gunwook as he said it, but he was never one to leave out any possibility when it came to faeries, always thoroughly vetting any information he found. Gunwook rose to stand and started working on the middle shelves.

Gyuvin remained on the ground, blushing a little.

“Well, I didn’t ask for his name…and he must be from around here if he’s in the woods all the time.”

He paused as his expression turned more serious, “I’ve just—never seen a face like his, he looked… otherworldly, but not unfamiliar, I don’t know how else to explain it.”

Gyuvin’s sentence trailed off, large eyes looking up at Gunwook, waiting for guidance.

Gunwook felt a headache forming as he stared down at his friend in disbelief.

“So all you know is this subjectively handsome man.”

“Not subjectively,” Gyuvin interjected, “objectively,” he said, grinning wider— mischief sparkling in his eyes.

Gunwook placed the book he was holding back on the cart to face his friend, who had shifted his position to sitting on the floor, long legs crossed, leaning back on his arms.

Rubbing his temples, Gunwook tried to continue.

“Right, so you’re saying this hot dude who may be stalking you in the woods is a faerie because he insulted your dog, and carries a weird bag.”

Gyuvin nodded slowly, while smiling up at him like a parent seeing their child’s perfect test score.

“Exactly, my Geonwookie is a good listener after all.” 

Gunwook had no words, and if he wasn’t in a library, he might’ve been yelling.

He was almost tempted to throw a book at his friend, but he convinced himself otherwise, not confident it wouldn’t bounce off of Gyuvin’s thick skull.

Trying to remain calm, Gunwook returned to his work, the simple task always seemed to soothe him.

“Gyuvin, being a pretty person in the woods does not make you a faerie. In fact, it sounds like you’re describing a serial killer, and you never asking this guy any personal questions is the weirdest thing about all this.”

The situation puzzled Gunwook even further when he said it aloud.

“How many times have you even talked to him?”

Gyuvin looked embarrassed now, and started rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s only been a few times, but everything about him is strange—I swear, and he’s too pretty,”

Gyuvin was trying to make a point that Gunwook could not decipher.

Even though faeries were described as very striking by most of the literature he read, to the point of enchanting people, they also avoided interacting with humans. So Gyuvin’s claim made even less sense to him. Gunwook felt like he was missing part of the story; he couldn’t see any reason to think this person was a faerie or knew anything about them.

The only thing Gunwook could infer from Gyuvin’s story is that his friend was smitten with a forest dwelling hippie, or was going to end up on the news for being murdered in the woods.

Gunwook wanted to trust his friend, but he wasn’t sure if it was enough.

Reading the hesitation on Gunwook’s face, Gyuvin hastily started digging beneath his t-shirt collar to produce a thin pink crystal dangling from a long silver chain around his neck.

“Promise rules,” he said, grinning like a cat about to catch a mouse.

Gunwook groaned, looking down at the matching necklace hanging under his shirt.

Their friendship had always been built on mutual trust. They both believed what the other was feeling and only questioned their hunches when necessary.

What Gyuvin was referring to was a silly pinky promise they made as children.

Gyuvin pestered Gunwook for days to try a bonding spell, insisting it would protect them both.

The spell was basically the faerie equivalent of a friendship bracelet in his opinion. Nevertheless, Gunwook was not a fan of spells. He preferred the naturalistic aspect of fae magic, having read a little about curses and enchantments, too many warnings of repercussions left him scared to try any.

Gyuvin wore him down every day at the orphanage until he agreed.

So they’d sworn under a full moon at midnight.

'With reverence for the fae and the natural world,

I call forth the spirits of the wood and the air,

To weave a bond of friendship, light, and grace,

That our hearts may forever intertwine in nature’s embrace.

to trust each other as guides as we weave our fate through time.’

It seemed like an unnecessary promise to Gunwook back then. He had always believed in his friend and came to rely on Gyuvin as his sole companion in life.

Still, performing the spell clearly meant a lot to Gyuvin, so he did it— without question and despite his fear. Gyuvin had asked for his trust, and he’d given it, and he would every time for his friend.

That was the faith Gyuvin was currently asking of Gunwook. His friend wiggling the necklace while grinning like he could hear Gunwook’s resolve caving.

“Okay, Gyuvin, if you’re really sure, I don’t mind investigating this guy with you.”

Gunwook grabbed the ladder and climbed with a few books in hand, ready to finish this section.

“I think we should try to catch him.” Gyuvin blurted out, eyes shining.

The lunacy of the statement made Gunwook stutter, almost dropping the books and tumbling from the ladder.

“What? No, Gyuvin, we can’t kidnap some random guy, and there’s also a very real possibility he might stab us if we tried to trap him,” Gunwook spoke quickly, exasperated.

“You know I am all for a leap of faith, but I think we’re jumping in a little fast here. We always observe first, then explore.”

Gunwook was truly lost as to how their conversation had gotten here.

“But you said you’d help,” Gyuvin whined, large eyes begging.

“Investigate, I said I’d help investigate.”’Gunwook shot back.

His friend sighed like Gunwook was the one not thinking, “Well, we can’t ask him anything if we don’t trap him, and I’ve never seen him outside the woods, so a trap is our only option. Plus, if he’s not a faerie, it won’t affect him.”

Gyuvin's gaze was oddly serious for once.

Gunwook had to admit, Gyuvin’s point wasn’t wrong, but it was still risky, so he countered.

“And how do you plan to lure him out? We can’t wave your dog around hoping he’ll appear to insult its outfit. You also forget we have never actually caught a faerie with the other traps —or technically, really seen one.”

Gyuvin scoffed, “Gunwook, trust me, I have a good feeling this time, my gyu-senses have never failed me.”

It was Gunwook’s turn to scoff now.“Last time you said that, my ears were leaking water for weeks.”

Gyuvin chuckled at the memory.

“Yes, but we did find these rocks.” He hummed, still dangling the necklace in front of himself.

“Yeah, we did.”

Gunwook smiled at their childhood adventure, before facing the shelf to place the last book in his hand, completing the section.

Work finished, he remembered the conversation he’d been having. His mind clear again.

“That’s not the point, Gyuvin, this plan just doesn’t make any sense! We’ve never done anything this risky to a stranger.”

Gunwook shook his head to clear the memory, carefully stepping down the ladder, eyes trained on the ground below him.

Halfway down, Gunwook noticed Gyuvin’s defeated expression, pouting lips making him look like a kicked puppy. He sighed, trying again to find a solution Gyuvin would accept

“Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but the problem remains— how do we catch him? There’s no trap we know of that might work, and there isn’t a single book I’ve read that detailed…”

Gunwook did not get to finish his sentence as something hard connected with the side of his face, knocking him off the ladder onto the floor, his back crashing on the ground with a hard thud.

“Gunwook! You okay, man?” Gyuvin shouted, scrambling from his seated position to kneel at Gunwook’s side next to the ladder.

Gyuvin, placing a long arm around Gunwook’s shoulder, sat him upright, then tapped his cheek gently to wake his unconscious friend.

Eyeing the object next to them, Gyuvin’s eyes widened with shock. It was a large pink book covered in small crystals.

It was a book Gyuvin knew did not belong in their world.

“Gunwook, get up, now,” he tried again, shaking him—but his friend was somewhere very, very far away.

─=≡Σʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

Gunwook was dreaming— he thinks.

His logical mind told him it was summer back home in Rosevale, but here he was, at the edge of a small clearing, knee deep in snow— so yeah, probably a dream.

He was surrounded by trees he’d never seen before. Their trunks black as coal, and leaves in full bloom but pale white, a few frost kissed blue roses poking out from the ground around them—a super detailed dream, he thought.

He attempted to move and explore the area, but found his legs rooted in place. He tried moving all his limbs individually, but only his head seemed to move. He sighed. Gunwook had never experienced dream sleep paralysis or whatever his mind was doing.

He tried again, in vain, to wiggle himself free when suddenly, he heard laughter approaching from the trees to his left. The noise tickled something soft in Gunwook’s chest. His eyes followed the sound, and he watched a little blonde boy fly out of the forest. Mint green wings glimmering in the sunlight as he elegantly twisted and turned himself in air—dancing for an audience he didn’t know he had. The boy continued gliding just above the snow, his laughter a dreamy melody Gunwook wanted to listen to forever.

A smile never left the boy’s face as he continued to dance, circling back around and stopping a few feet away from the edge where Gunwook stood.

The sight mesmerized Gunwook. The breeze from his light movements stirred the powdery snow below; causing the loose fractals to float up then fall gently around him— sparkling in the midday sun.

So enchanted by the performance, Gunwook hardly noticed an older looking pink haired faerie had breached the tree line. The new man laughed just as loudly as he approached the green-winged faerie—or angel.

Gunwook still wasn’t confident that whatever hit him hadn’t killed him instantly, sending him to this frozen heaven to be greeted by a gorgeous little angel.

Yes— an angel Gunwook decided, choosing to ignore the very shiny translucent, thin fairy wings on the boy’s back.

The pink haired faerie flew over to his angel on silvery, clear wings, swirling with a faint star pattern. Gunwook saw the man’s arms were filled with strange creatures.

Gunwook wanted to call them chipmunks or squirrels.

But he wasn’t confident because although they looked very rodent-like, their colors were not very normal. In fact, as the faerie drew closer, they looked similar to some drawings he’d seen of common faerie woodland creatures. The more chipmunk looking creatures had tiny devil horns, red eyes, and were pitch black with Grey stripes on their backs. The squirrel looking ones had long fangs, bright yellow eyes, and upon closer inspection, scales, Gunwook realized.

His dream was nothing if not accurate to the books he read. He was quite proud of his brain for making up, not only book accurate animals, but some very pretty faeries too. Gunwook watched the two interact, they seemed like family— although they did not look alike.

“Did you see me! Nailed all the moves just like we practiced.” The angel grinned, excitement dripping with every word. The pink haired one set the creatures down in front of the angel before reaching over to cup both cheeks in his hands.

“You did so well. My baby will be the prettiest at the presentation tonight.” He cooed in a way that reminded Gunwook of Gyuvin.

His necklace warmed a little at the thought. The faerie gestured below them as he continued.

“Ah, I also brought you more practice mates before you show off to everyone tonight.”

The older fairy released his angel's face and produced a blue cloth pouch covered in silver stars from his coat pocket, then dropped it into the angel’s hands.

“And I have a gift for you— for luck.”

However, the pouch’s contents remained unknown to Gunwook because, before it could be opened, a loud roar rattled the trees. The tiny creatures scattered at the sound, as the two faeries turned to face the approaching danger. Another roar shook the ground, and with the loud snapping of branches, a large, fluffy, white haired creature burst through the tree line, eyes locking onto the faeries.

Gunwook might have said its floppy ears made it look a bit like a rabbit, had its razor-sharp teeth not started snapping at his angel. The red-eyed monster was the size of a minivan, and it looked like someone stuck a rabbit's head on a lion’s body, then groomed it to look like a poodle. It had muscular hind legs with tufts of fur around the ankles, a slimmer cat-like middle covered in short fur, clawed front paws, a fuzzy white mane, and a lion’s tail with a rabbit's poof at the end.

It was not a creature Gunwook had seen before in any book so he wasn’t sure how he imagined such a thing. It even had a large nasty-looking scar on its back leg. His dreams were never usually this detailed.

But Gunwook supposed the human mind could do anything.

The creature reared up on its back legs, roaring again, this time revealing a second mouth running down the length of its neck.

Great, he imagined a bunny from hell to eat the cutest person he’s ever seen and his nice friend.

Even in his dreams, his mind wouldn’t allow him to meet a faerie, Gunwook thought as the creature swiped its large paws at the fairies who frantically tried to dodge the sudden attack.

Twisting too far, his angel dropped the pouch as he fell trying to escape the creature's jaws. Gunwook tried to move again, hoping to intervene.

He wasn’t sure what he could do, but it was his dream— maybe if he whacked the monster with a big stick, things might work out.

The pink-haired faerie shouted, drawing the creature’s attention, then dodged one last swipe, causing the beast to stumble a bit. Seeing the monster distracted, his angel took the opportunity to try and grab the pouch. His angel reached for the gift, lodged in snow ahead of him, but he was pulled away by the older boy.

“Leave it” he shouted.

His angel looked conflicted, but the monster regained its footing and was barreling towards them. His angel turned, gripping the older boy’s hand, as they flew away fast— disappearing into the trees.

The monster halted its pursuit as soon as they crossed the tree line. Stalking back to the center of the clearing, it picked up the pouch in its mouth before bounding off into the woods where it came from.

Gunwook wanted to follow, but realized too late that his surroundings were starting to darken as the ground beneath him had caved in, and he fell down into a bottomless pit.

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ

Gunwook’s long descent was cut off as his back hit water.

Now— he was sinking.

Still unable to move, he plunged further into the dark water, long lily pad stems floating into view as he fell. He thought he might be in a pond. It felt familiar and a little scary for some reason, but Gunwook pushed that feeling away.

A school of tiny pink fish swam over him, animals he didn’t recognize, he noted.

Gunwook looked around, but it was just darkness and lily pads that surrounded him. Based on the way his dream was going, he expected a giant fish with forty eyes and six mouths to swim out from the depths to eat him.

He floated down in silence, waiting for something, anything. Yet there was no monster coming to devour him. In fact, there was no sound at all—just the light bubbling of his body drifting in the water.

He was just there—alone in the darkness.

He read once that dreams are supposed to reveal truths or have a deeper meaning.

With that in mind, falling through a dark lily pad-ridden pond wasn’t a lot to work with. This part of his dream was lacking in any details, unlike before.

He found this place hollow—like an abandoned memory.

The emptiness started to frustrate him a bit.

Why would his brain show him a fraction of something?

He’d be set adrift in an incomplete space, for what?

Maybe now he was dying, and his brain exhausted itself earlier to give him one last magical dream before he passed on.

He panicked a bit, He didn’t want to be dying.

Before he spiraled any further, Gunwook gave up trying to apply reason to this situation and just let himself sink, content to vanish into the deep.

A sudden soft light shining above him caught his eye, and a red shape seemed to be staring at him through a break in the lily pads from the surface, but the figure was so blurry.

He tried squinting, but the shape was just out of range for him to see properly.

Something small plunged into the water, a barrage of bubbles surrounding the quickly moving thing.

The tiny object entered his view.

It was Gyuvin—or rather, a thirteen year old version of him—was swimming fast at Gunwook. Little Gyuvin was pumping his legs as quickly as he could, while frantically trying to say something.

“Ke up!” was all Gunwook could hear as the boy got closer, accompanied the sound.

Gunwook felt his arm twitch.

“Up!” the boy was still yelling, trying desperately to reach him, his little arm outstretched.

To his surprise, Gunwook’s left arm jerked up as he tried to reach back.

Little Gyuvin caught his hand, pulling Gunwook’s weightless floating form towards him.

They were face to face now, Kid Gyuvin’s eyes glowing yellow, as he grabbed Gunwook’s shoulders to shake him while shouting.

“WAKE UP!”

Gyuvin’s necklace floated into view, crystal glowing faintly before a blinding white light knocked Gunwook out, again.

Chapter Text

ROSEWOOD

The sun was shining.

This would normally make Matthew very happy, but he desperately wanted to sleep more. The bright rays always beckoned him to the waking world. They could pull him from any slumber— like a lighthouse calling a ship home.

He felt a spark in his mind.

Matthew, I know you can hear me. I need you to wake up, I can’t listen to Hanbin blubbering anymore.

Taerae has made a full recovery, Matthew thought, hearing the duck’s voice loud and clear. With a loud groan, Matthew peeled his eyes open, a pink head immediately coming into view.

“Chu, oh my baby, you’re alive! You can’t just pass out on me, I thought you died!” Matthew was pulled upright as Hanbin squished their cheeks together.

“You cannot scare me like that, passing out for 3 weeks.” Hanbin sobbed, squeezing Matthew closer, gently patting his head.

“Hanbin, I’m alright now…wait 3 weeks!” Matthew shrieked, pushing off of Hanbin, the events of before flooding back into his mind.

“No, no, no, that can’t be. Where’s Taerae? I’ve wasted too much time.”

Matthew was frantically moving the sheets aside, looking for the bird. His eyes darted around the room—Hanbin’s room, he realized from the star painted ceiling, which they spent months making.

He heard giggling as he paused to see Hanbin wiping tears from his eyes while he tried to contain himself, laughter shaking his slender frame.

“You can calm down, it’s only been three days. Consider that my revenge for giving me a heart attack.” His smile dropped for a moment.

“I wasn’t joking though, I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

Matthew's mouth was hanging open before he flopped back on the bed in relief.

“Sure whatever, but that joke was not funny,” he whined.

“Taerae thought it was funny— assuming I read his body language right earlier.” Hanbin shrugged, standing to grab a tray on the desk near the bed.

“He looked bored waiting for you to get up, even pecked you a few times.” He set a tray of food down on the bed. “I’m surprised you never felt it.”

Matthew sat up again, the smell of his favorite maple puff rolls making his mouth water. He immediately grabbed from the plate set before him, greedily stuffing his mouth—three days of hunger catching up to him.

“Heb, whrd iz Tebwoi?” he tried to speak, mouth full of food.

“Chew then talk Mattchu, how many times do I have to tell you?” Hanbin chided, handing him a glass of juice.

Washing down the last of the food with the drink, Matthew tried again.

“Sorry, where’s Taerae?” Matthew scanned the room again, making sure he didn’t overlook him.

My honey, I’m right here. Matthew heard as the duck waddled through the door, pausing at the entrance to spread his wings and turn, showing off his healed body.

Light Green chiffon scarf wrapped around his neck, and a large orange flower sitting upside down on his head like a sun hat. Matthew and Hanbin chuckled at the display as the duck strutted towards the bed, hopping onto it and settling into Matthew’s crossed legs.

Matthew grabbed a handful of nuts from the tray, holding them before the duck. The bird started digging in right away, the flower hat dropping from its head, and the scarf slipping loose. Hanbin’s laugh died off while he eyed their matching marks before clearing his throat.

“Uh, Matthew— I know you just woke up, but I really need you to tell me what happened down there.”

Matthew looked up at Hanbin and back down at Taerae.

How much should I tell him? I don’t want him to get hurt trying to help us, but I’ve never lied to him. Matthew sent to Taerae.

I don’t want to lie either, but I won’t have anyone else trying to die for me. I’m sorry, we need to lie— just a little bit.

Matthew sighed at the response. He was a bad liar. Yet if he wanted to keep Hanbin safe, he would have to do his best.

Matthew began recounting the tale to his friend, leaving out the execution bit, and only pausing to laugh at the animated expressions Hanbin made.

When he reached the part about the brand, he told a half-truth, saying it was a product of a deal they made. The deal is what Matthew had to lie about.

He told Hanbin the council would break Taerae’s curse if they could find the missing artifact he saw within the month.

“Typical council, nosy and unhelpful. They govern over the spring realm, but mostly ignore villages like ours unless they want something.

Hanbin reached over to pat Taerae on the head. “Still, it’s not a bad deal. If you fail, we can keep looking for other ways to help Taerae.”

He smiled at them, believing the lie. Matthew shoved another maple puff in his mouth—stress clawing at his chest.

Hanbin clapped his hands together in excitement.

“Well, where do we start?”

Matthew panicked; if Hanbin followed them around long enough, he’d most likely catch them in their lie. They needed a place where they could easily ditch him without looking suspicious. More importantly, Matthew had no idea where to start.

Taerae, I’m blanking here, help—now, he pleaded mentally.

I know, it’s coming to me, just give me a moment …Taerae’s voice sparked back, but there was no further response as the silence stretched out.

“Mattchu, did you hear me? Wasn’t the council curious about where you’d start? Hanbin spoke again, face painted with worry.

Now Taerae, right now, Matthew was desperately shouting across the link.

Taerae tried to focus, feeling for the book’s energy. Finally, he caught a faint whisper of its magic pulling him somewhere west of them.

The library— more than enough space to hide from Hanbin in there, Matthew finally heard back.

“We thought the library would be a good place to start, for uh… research.” Matthew parroted to Hanbin, trying his best to sound confident.

“Great, but what research do you need? I don’t think the library has much info on the tome of unknowns, it’s been lost for a while.” Hanbin looked confused, eyes asking for a more detailed explanation than Matthew wanted to share.

They needed to research the curse, but he couldn’t tell Hanbin that. Matthew grabbed Taerae, standing suddenly— the duck quacking in surprise. Matthew turned and put himself directly in front of Hanbin, still seated on a chair next to the bed.

“This magnificent creature has seen things you cannot imagine and because of that, the council entrusted us to find that book. He says we need to go to the library, so we’re going— no more questions—please.”

Matthew was shoving Taerae far too close to Hanbin’s face, the duck’s intelligent eyes locking with his as he quacked again—low and menacing. Hanbin tilted his head to the side, trying to avoid the duck and make eye contact with Matthew.

“Okay, calm down, we’ll go to the library. I just wanna help.”

Hanbin’s smile was so genuine it stung Matthew to lie like this, but Hanbin was like family to him, and he would never let him get hurt.

“I’m actually still a bit tired, I think I’ll rest some more at home.” Matthew faked a yawn for emphasis.

“Of course, Chu, rest at home and I’ll meet you at the library later,” Hanbin said as he stood collecting the dishes. “I’m due to see the doctor soon anyway.”

Matthew’s eyes dropped to Hanbin’s wrists.

“Are they still sore?”

Hanbin looked dejected, but quickly recovered his composure, and plastered a smile on his face.

“No, it’s just some work stuff. Go get some more rest. I’ll see you soon.”

Matthew understood the dismissal, and remembered he had a more pressing matter to deal with.

“Right, rest. We should get going, c'mon Tae.” Matthew grabbed his stuff from the bedside and walked briskly to the exit, placing Taerae in his wicker carrier and slinging it over his shoulder.

Once out the door, he walked quickly away from Hanbin’s villa down a cobbled path and onto a dirt trail heading towards the woods.

When he felt far enough away, Matthew began to run. Almost tripping over some tree roots that were a little too high out of the ground. Taerae popped his head out to look around as the carrier shook.

Matthew, slow down. Why are you running? He dropped his head quickly to avoid a low branch. Geez, you’d think the Trees are trying to jump out of the ground. Can’t you ask them to back up?

“I can’t,” Matthew answered between breaths, talking aloud since nobody was around.

“They’ve been moody lately and won’t say much to me.” Matthew side-stepped another branch, trying to keep his pace.“And I’m running because we need to start researching now, I can’t focus on that and lie to Hanbin at the same time.”

Matthew lifted himself from the ground, wings carrying them out of the woods and into a flowery meadow. Following a series of trails he was familiar with, Matthew finally saw a wooden signpost marked ‘Willows’ Wisdom’.

The building was on an island in the middle of a lake, It was a tall, run down castle-looking structure that surrounded a large twisted willow tree, its outer walls wedged between two slightly shorter willow trees. A wide, arched stone bridge was the only path leading directly inside.

Matthew landed a few feet back as the bridge was very crowded, which wasn’t unusual. The libraries in all the realms tended to be busy at any given time of day— with Young faeries from all different places hoping to gain new knowledge, mentors holding classes, and others there to read for pleasure.

He felt nostalgic for a moment, Matthew had originally come to the spring realm to hone his gift. He assumed the council told his mentor his lessons were on hold, as he might be too dead in a month to take them. Although he was technically practicing all the time with Taerae.

Matthew’s talent was talking, or more specifically, connecting with the things around him. His power allowed him to speak and connect to most creatures that inhabited their world, certain trees and plants, even a few rocks — and as he discovered recently, cursed ducks.

The connection was not always easy to form, it was like weaving a basket. If you did it too fast, the connection was sloppy and could fall apart. If it was too slow, communication was fractured and short until complete. Depending on what he was trying to communicate with, the time it took him to connect varied.

Although his gift was not uncommon, when he stumbled upon Taerae, the duck was shocked they could communicate at all, saying Matthew was the first after many failed attempts.

The result of that fateful meeting brought Matthew to where he currently stood at the foot of the bridge.

I used to love coming here before… You know, Taerae lamented, already retreating into his carrier.

I know Tae. Matthew’s heart ached, feeling the sorrow coating every word. When we break your curse, we’ll come back. We can sit under the willow tree, and you can play guitar while I study. How’s that sound?

Matthew began walking across the bridge towards the entrance, large cracked wooden doors were latched open.

Like an impossible dream, Taerae responded after a few moments.

“Not while I’m around”, Matthew whispered as he crossed the threshold into the library.

ε(*´･ω･)з

Matthew groaned from behind a tall stack of books, dropping his forehead onto the open pages before him.

Hanbin wasn’t kidding; they’d been in and out of the library for the past four days and found nothing. Thankfully, Hanbin worked during the day, so they were free to research the curse in peace.

However, the search was not going well— the librarian basically laughed in his face when he asked for books on the ancient artifacts and old curses. Now, they sat in a deserted corner of the library flipping through random books they hoped contained something helpful.

“How is there nothing here? Libraries are supposed to be useful, why aren’t any of these books useful!” Matthew shouted, digging his hands through his hair. He sneezed as he inhaled too much dust from yelling,” And can’t they fix this place up a bit? It looks like it’s falling apart.”

He looked at the duck next to him, perched on top of three books with another open in front of him, leaning up against a taller stack. Taerae was looking around them, unnerved by something.

“Everything okay? Did you feel the book?”

The duck’s gaze lingered below them before he responded.

No, it’s something else. I keep feeling like someone is watching us, but the sensation is gone. I think I’m just nervous to be in such a public place.

Matthew softly patted the duck’s head to soothe his nerves and smiled. He started tracing circles in Taerae’s feathers with his finger.

“Hey, can you have any more of those visions? It’s nice that you can feel the book, but can’t you see exactly where it is?” he asked, trying to distract his friend and make some progress.

Taerae turned, shaking his head as he chirped once in annoyance.

I’ve never really been in control of my visions, and because of all this, Taerae wiggled his body a bit for emphasis. I can’t even see full visions, just flashes of the future. So all I know is the book will appear around here, somewhere—I think.

Matthew dropped his hand and looked at the enormous space around them. Shelves of varying heights embedded into crumbling stone bricks, with small breaks for seating areas like the alcove they were in now. A splintered, thick tree trunk sat in the middle of the room and connected to the ceiling. It was lined with books, and a few small doors were scattered around its base for fairies to travel between levels. They were on the third floor with two above them, and four below, if you counted the catacombs, and the archives under the pond. Matthew wasn’t sure if it was even possible to search every inch of this place—several areas were restricted.

He sighed, frustrated at their lack of progress.

“Okay, that’s fine, we’ll just live here until you feel the book appear, however long that takes…”

Matthew

“…and who even knows if it’s in here, it could be floating in the pond outside, or in some forbidden room we have to break into...”

Matthew

“I’m trying to stay positive Tae, but I need a time frame or something, we’ve already lost a week …”

MATTHEW, IT’S HERE, Taerae yelled, the connection rattling Matthew’s mind.

“What?” Matthew paused mid-rant, raising an eyebrow at the duck.

The book is here above us, get up — now.

Matthew stood up fast, knocking over the chair he was sitting on.

“Well, why didn’t you say so sooner?” He swiftly collected their stuff as Taerae hopped into his basket. Grabbing the bag, Matthew rushed to the staircase in the tree below them.

The library had a ‘no flying policy’ on communal pathways to avoid collisions and promote fitness, or some stupid reason, Matthew never bothered to investigate. This meant Matthew had to run up a very tall staircase that twisted upwards with no foreseeable end.

What are you waiting for? Get moving, Taerae nagged— rattling the basket against his hip to make a point.

“There are a lot of stairs! I have to mentally prepare myself.” Matthew considered himself to be in good shape, but again, that was a lot of feckin’ stairs. He suddenly missed the flat frozen land at home in the winter realm.

Matthew, do you only have muscles for show? We don’t have time for this, just go.

He took a deep breath.

Yes, your highness, he sassed to his bag before bolting up the stairs, letting the basket jerk around a bit more than necessary.

About halfway up, his pace started to slow, eventually pausing to catch his breath. Shoulders heaving as he panted— cursing the inventor of stairs.

His ascent had been slowed further by the constant flow of Faeries moving between floors. He continued up as fast as he could through a growing crowd.

Matthew checked his sun dial watch, classes must’ve just finished—“feck.” He swore quietly.

Matthew, you’re being too nice, just push them out of the way! We need to hurry, our lives literally depend on this.

The impatient duck rattled the bag again, passersby gave him sidelong glances and shuffled away.

A ridiculous plan formed in Matthew’s mind.

In Matthew’s efforts to communicate with his surroundings, he had come to learn something very important.

Nobody messed with the thorn spiders.

New to the Spring realm, he tried to bring a spider he befriended into the library for practice, only to be thrown out immediately.

Hanbin told to him later that spring faeries tried to avoid thorn spiders at all costs, explaining that they were big, thorny, temperamental, and venomous.

Tae, do that again. Matthew hooked a latch on the bag, locking the lid.

No, it made me a little dizzy. Taerae pouted back.

If you wanna get up these stairs faster, get to shaking—And hiss if you can.

Matthew tightened the strap and adjusted the carrier, sitting it more securely in front of him by his stomach.

Fine. Taerae agreed, picking up on Matthew’s idea.

He flopped on his back and started to rock side to side, while kicking his feet at the lid of the carrier. Hissing as loudly as he could.

Almost instantly, faeries moved out of his way as the bag shook, the hissing noise startling faeries even further up the staircase. The faeries clung to the walls as he dashed up the stairs— faster than ever.

Matthew finally saw the top. Okay, you can stop now, we’re almost there, his legs screaming in relief.

The carrier stilled as he slipped by some faeries through the arched doorway.

They arrived on the fourth floor; thankfully, emptier than where they came from. Tae, where am I going? Matthew asked, surveying the room for any signs that a long lost ancient artifact had appeared, but the room was normal.

ugh…Left Taerae groaned, still a little dizzy, Matthew moved instantly, darting left past several tall shelves in a row.

Stop, Taerae’s voice was more stable now as he recovered himself. Matthew skirted to a halt at the beginning of an aisle labeled ornithology. The study of birds— how fitting, he thought, giggling to himself.

Walk slowly down this aisle, I need to feel for it. Seeing the section empty, Matthew took him out and raised the duck to sit on his head, hoping Taere could get better reception for whatever he was feeling for.

Matthew’s legs were thankful to be moving at a slow pace as he continued down the aisle, waiting for a command from his duck overlord seated atop his head.

We’re close, can you fly up a few shelves? Matthew obliged, fluttering his wings to push them up as both hands held Taerae steady.

Matthew tried to scan the shelves for it, but many of the books had leaves, gems, or flowers sticking out of them— obstructing his view of the space around them.

There! It’s there Taerae shrieked, stretching his neck to point a few rows above Matthew to the right.

Matthew looked up excited, catching sight of the unique crystals, and flew over. The tome was standing up alone, the books on either side of it several feet away— like they had shuffled back in fear. Matthew failed to notice this as he was too excited to have the tome so close.

“ I don’t want to jinx it, but we’re only a week in and already fifty percent there. What did I say, you’ll be singing under that willow tree in no time.”

Matthew grinned as he reached out to grab the book, one arm still securing the duck. He went to pull it, but found strong resistance; even as he tugged harder, the book refused to budge.

“Uh, Tae, it’s not moving.” he tugged the immobile book again for emphasis.

I can see that, just pull harder. The duck lightly pecked his head in encouragement.

Matthew continued to yank and twist, but it remained rooted in place. Forgetting the bird on his head, Matthew tried pulling with both hands, veins popping as he struggled, bracing his feet against the shelf for a better grip.

So focused on loosening the book, he didn’t feel the bird slipping from his head until its beak latched onto a clump of his hair— yanking his head backwards.

Matthew hissed in pain, but he felt the book loosen.

“Hang on Tae, I’ve almost got it.” He tried to look forward, Taerae weighing his head back, managing only to tip his chin down a bit.

He caught sight of a dark hole starting to grow behind the book— sucking it back into the blackness.

Before he could process this new development, Taerae’s beak slipped, and the bird was falling— fast.

Get the book, was all he heard as the bird dropped out of view.

Matthew had never seen Taerae fly, and he didn’t think now was the time to find out if he could. Releasing the book, Matthew dove down, Taerae flapping wildly below him— trying to slow his descent.

The ground was approaching fast, but Matthew was faster, grabbing the bird and pulling it into his chest just before they hit the ground, Matthew spinning to roll them as he broke the fall. He lay on his back for a moment, heart racing.

Thanks Matthew, but you need to get up. The bird wiggled out of Matthew’s grasp and threw open the carrier with his beak.

We need to grab the book now!— It’s disappearing.

Taerae threw himself into the basket strapped to Matthew, quacking desperately at him to move.

Hearing that Matthew shot up determined not to let this opportunity slip away. He flew back up to the shelf only to see that a much larger black hole had swallowed more than half the book. Matthew rushed forward, trying to grab it, his fingers grazed the spine before it dropped into the darkness.

“No!” Matthew cried as the hole sucked itself up— disappearing along with the book.

“This can’t…what the.. Taerae, where did it go? I don’t … it can’t just.” Matthew was too stunned to speak properly, the book literally slipped through his fingers. His hands desperately touched the now empty space, trying to summon the book back.

It’s okay Matthew, I know where it went.

He paused his frantic movements to look at Taerae. This seemed like news for celebration to Matthew, but Taerae’s tone was very grim. The duck’s head was poking out the basket, looking directly at the vacant space— like he could see beyond it.

“Well, where the feck is it?” Matthew demanded.

It’s in the human world, in the town of Rosevale, near a Black Forest. Taerae announced it like someone else was whispering the information in his ear.

He must’ve just had a vision. Matthew recognized that clipped tone.

He also recalled begging Taerae for a vision earlier, and he’s never regretted his words more.

The human realm sucked, there was nothing good about it. He sighed, tapping his forehead against the shelf in front of him.

Matthew did not want to go, but sadly— he had no choice.

🦊 ʅ（´ ◔౪◔）ʃ

“No, absolutely not, never.”

Hanbin wasn’t shouting at him; he never shouted at Matthew, but he did have a very serious parent-like tone that he was currently using.

“Hanbin, pleeeasse.” Matthew was begging, trying to look up at Hanbin like an abandoned animal pleading for shelter from the rain.

Hanbin’s iron will cracked a bit, but he recovered himself.

“No, no way Chu, you could get seriously hurt! You’ve never been to the human world. Just tell the council you found the book and have them send a warrior fairy to retrieve it.”

That would be a great idea if they only needed to find the book. Matthew was doing mental gymnastics trying to lie and also win this argument.

“That won’t work! The deal was for us to deliver it to them.”

“Then you should at least have a guard accompany you, I know a very kind officer who will be happy to help you.” Hanbin was not backing down, and Matthew was running out of lies.

He paced back and forth in Hanbin’s living room, trying to think.

“No guards either, Taerae and I will be fine on our own, just trust me— I took basic human studies.”

Matthew approached Hanbin, taking his hands in his own. Matthew’s eyes pleaded with Hanbin as he connected to his friend’s mind, sending his desperation. In return, he felt a familiar soothing warmth that always accompanied Hanbin.

“Okay Chu, you can use my portal pass,” Matthew cheered mentally at his success.

“But I’m coming with you, what if you encounter faerie hunters?” — feck Matthew cursed mentally, back to square one.

This was supposed to go very differently. The plan was that they would borrow Hanbin’s portal pass, go to the human world, get the book, and come back to focus on breaking the curse. Matthew wasn’t expecting to fail at step one.

What’s even worse is his earlier lie now put him in a tight spot.

For all Hanbin knew, they just needed The Tome of Unknowns, but once they got it, he would have questions about why they weren’t immediately bringing it to the council to fix Taerae.

Matthew couldn’t say that once the council had the book, they’d probably kill Taerae and, consequently, him too. Not to mention the guards worked directly under the council, so they couldn’t be trusted either.

This was bad. Matthew needed a portal pass now, and approval for one took time he did not have.

He mentally kicked himself for having no interest in visiting the human world until now.

Tell him he can come. Taerae’s tone was very nonchalant for such a dire situation—the duck was seated on a cushion watching the exchange.

Hell fecking no, did you shake your senses away earlier? That’s an awful idea. Matthew was shocked. He and Taerae were almost always on the same page—to the point where the link in their minds felt obsolete at times.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to alert Hanbin that a second conversation was happening without him.

Matthew, he’s not actually going to come, we need to agree so he’ll leave his pass out.

Oh, Oh— Matthew caught on to Taerae’s plan, knots forming in his stomach at the prospect of lying to Hanbin — again.

Still, he was left with no choice. Hanbin wasn’t going to let them go alone— he’d have to steal it.

All this deception was making him sick, but it was for Hanbin’s safety, Matthew reminded himself.

“Okay Binnie, thanks, we could use your expertise.”

Matthew hugged him, trying to hide his guilty expression, then squeezed a little tighter, hoping this betrayal would not destroy their friendship.

“Aw Chu, I knew you’d see it my way, I’ll start packing and we can leave tomorrow afternoon. We can have a sleepover since I live closer to the portal.”

Matthew continued to hold Hanbin tight, the older boy slowly stroked his head, misinterpreting his anxiety.

“Don’t be scared Matthew, I’ll protect you and Taerae out there.”

He patted Matthew’s head before placing a gentle kiss on top of it.

Matthew’s guilt deepened at the softness, he would miss this most if Hanbin never spoke to him again.

“Thanks Hanbin, what would I do without you?”

Matthew lifted his head to meet Hanbin’s eyes. He saw only love and trust sparkling in them, he also saw his own deceitful face. He turned away quickly, tears burning his eyes.

“I’m going to go pack as well, I’ll be back later,” was all he could manage before he grabbed the carrier.

Taerae had packed himself up, feeling Matthew’s sadness, and they were out the door in a flash. Matthew was silent for a while, fireflies dancing through the woods as they walked home in the moonless night.

It wasn’t until they reached Matthew’s cottage that he broke down. As soon as the door closed, he sank to the floor, put his head in his knees and cried. Taerae hopped out of his carrier and wiggled himself under Matthew’s arms, trying to wipe the tears away with his head. Matthew picked up the bird and cried even harder, holding Taerae tight to his chest. The duck rested its head on Matthew’s shoulder.

I’m so sorry Matthew, please don’t cry—this is all my fault. Taerae’s voice was just as ragged as Matthew felt.

I know I’ve caused you a lot of problems, and I don’t deserve your kindness, but I’ll repay you somehow— and all this hurting won’t be for nothing.

Taerae rubbed his head against Matthew’s shoulder trying to imitate Hanbin’s gentle pats.

My life has only gotten better since I met you, and I thank every star in the sky that you found me.

Taerae didn’t have Hanbin’s gentle hands, but he had more love for Matthew than anyone, and he sent it all through their connection.

Matthew’s cries died down into sniffles as he lifted his head from Taerae’s feathers.

“Don’t say it’s for nothing, you are not nothing, Tae.” Matthew made sure he spoke clearly, “I’m doing this because I want to, and I believe you, more than anyone else, deserved to be saved.”

Taerae lifted his head to stare at his friend.

But why?

Matthew looked back like Taerae had asked the dumbest question in the world.

“Because it’s you”

Taerae felt something that broke in him long ago begin to repair itself.

Idiot, that’s not a reason. An unspeakable emotion was sweeping over the duck.

“I love ya too— cursed feathers and all.” Matthew chuckled.

Taerae honked at him.

Who said I love you and your annoying optimism, huh? His tone lacking any bite.

Matthew laughed louder and hugged the bird close again.

“You don’t have to— I can feel it,” he said softly, laying his head back down on the duck.

They sat there for a while in silence, the only certainty in their future that they had each other, until the end— for better or for worse.

乁(ಥ ͜ʖಥ)ㄏ

Chapter Text

ROSEVALE

Gunwook was no longer dead, or trapped in a dream— he didn’t have a word for what he just experienced. Either way, he was happy to rejoin the waking world, his consciousness filling his body, fingers twitching to life.

A few moments later he was no longer excited to be alive, a sharp pain in his left temple made his head throb and his body ached all over. He sat up with a loud groan clutching at his head.

He was in a blurry white room bathed in orange sunlight. He blinked a few times to focus his vision. Three single beds were lined up across from him, separated by a cheap blue curtain; the bare minimum of medical supplies on trays next to them.

Ah, the university’s infirmary — he recognized.

Loud breathing echoing through the empty room caught his attention.

Looking left, he saw a sleeping Gyuvin lying face down on the bed next to him. His long limbs hanging off all sides, the curtain between them drawn back. The boy twitched a few times.

Then with a loud snort, Gyuvin jolted awake. His eyes blinked open rapidly as he caught sight of Gunwook staring at him.

“Awake… you’re awake!” he shrieked, pushing himself up too fast and tumbling off the bed, getting tangled in the curtain, then hitting the floor with a loud oomph.

Undeterred, Gyuvin scrambled to his feet and jumped at Gunwook like a dog whose owner returned from a lengthy vacation.

Loving arms wrapped around Gunwook and squeezed him tight.

“Ah Geonuque, you scared me. For a second there I thought you were a goner.”

Gunwook hugged him back, Gyuvin’s shoulder brushed his cheek making him wince in pain—prompting him to ask a very important question.

“So what the heck knocked me out? I didn’t shelve any books that thick.” Gyuvin released him and shifted to sit next to Gunwook on the tiny bed, then launched into the tale.

“Okay so it was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen…”

As he continued the story, Gunwook’s mouth fell open wider and wider— his jaw would’ve dropped to the floor if it could. The story, as a whole, was actually quite short.

Gunwook got knocked out by a book that fell through a black hole. Gyuvin freaked out and brought him to the infirmary. The nurse thought Gyuvin beat the shit out of him, and here they were.

It was the book that mattered the most. Gyuvin’s arms were moving rapidly trying to mime the size and texture of the tome, and the hole it came through. Gunwook couldn’t believe it. He’d been rendered unconscious by what Gyuvin described as a ‘bedazzled dictionary.’ Gyuvin looked at him apologetically as he finished off his description.

“I knew you’d wanna see the book when you woke up, but by the time I got back there, it was gone!” he started twisting the ring around his finger— avoiding eye contact.

“It had been a few hours and you still weren’t awake so I… uh, got stressed and took a nap to calm down.” Gyuvin said the last part as if he was trying to convince himself of something. A strange emotion Gunwook had never seen crossed his friend’s face. He looked troubled and nervous.

Maybe he was just worried for me, Gunwook thought— pushing a nagging doubt from his mind.

Gunwook shifted his focus back to the book.

Had he seriously just slept through the most magical moment in his life. Fate was playing a very cruel joke on him.

He dropped his face into his palms groaning loudly.

“I cannot believe this! Evidence of magic was literally right in front of me and I missed it! We waited our whole lives for something like this to happen and I freakin’ missed it!”Gunwook shouted as he threw his head back, bumping it on the wall behind his bed.

The mild sting in his skull was incomparable to the devastation he felt in his heart. Gyuvin eyed his friend with pity, as he reached over to rub his back. Needing to distract himself from the disappointment, Gunwook shared his own endeavor. 

“You know, I actually had a super weird dream. This creepy demon bunny was trying to eat some faeries, or rob them for a pouch— I’m actually not sure what it wanted.”

Gunwook giggled a bit at the absurdity of his dream and Gyuvin chuckled along too.

“You mean it like held them at gunpoint and tried to rob them?” Gyuvin mimed a stabbing motion, “or did the rabbit have a steak knife and bib?” Gyuvin’s body shook with laughter as he asked.

Gunwook turned to glare at Gyuvin for his crappy joke, a pink crystal necklace shook loose from under Gyuvin’s shirt— jogging his memory.

“Oh right, I also dreamt about sinking in this creepy pond, but you saved me—technically a kid version of you did.”

Gyuvin stopped laughing and started to nervously chuckle instead, eyes looking everywhere but at Gunwook. “Ha..ha, that is really strange…”

Gunwook tried to raise his eyebrow in confusion, but his face stung with the movement and he sucked his teeth in pain. Gyuvin jumped up suddenly, ready to abandon the conversation.

“I just remembered, the nurse told me to grab ice and extra painkillers from the student shop before she left.”

Gyuvin pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time. “It’s 5:54 pm. The store is gonna close soon. Get dressed!”

Gunwook’s t-shirt and black hoodie were tossed in his lap, while Gyuvin shrugged a jean jacket over his shoulders.

“I’m gonna head over now to make sure we get everything. Meet me down there when you’re ready!” And with that, Gyuvin was gone.

Gunwook slowly got dressed, discovering new aches with every movement. He noticed quite a few bandages wrapped around him too.

The pain in his face had made him forget he’d also fallen from a ladder. Gunwook pulled out his phone and opened the camera, wanting to see the damage for himself.

Switching to the front camera, Gunwook gasped at what he saw. Half of his left eye was bloodshot, a large purple and green bruise stretched from his temple to his slightly swollen cheek. There was also a lighter yellowish bruise surrounding a thin scratch near the corner of his lip, and a shallow cut across the bridge of his nose.

Jesus— it looked like half his face lost a fight to a brick.

He closed the phone and put it back in his sweater pocket. Swinging his legs off the bed onto the ground, he bent over to slip on his sneakers.

No wonder Gyuvin was in a rush, he definitely needed that ice.

⋆˚𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

Gunwook spotted the tall boy loitering outside the student store with two large plastic bags in hand. They made eye contact and Gyuvin jogged over to meet him.

“Ready to go home?”

Now that Gyuvin was closer, Gunwook saw that the contents of one bag was definitely not ice or medicine.

“Gyuvin, why do you have a bag of alcohol?”

Gyuvin smirked, “my Geonwookie, so sharp as always, this...” he held the bag up, shaking it a bit so the bottles clacked against each other, “is Dr Gyuvin’s prescribed medication. We need to celebrate! We saw some genuine magic today”.

Gunwook’s face darkened a bit as he remembered he never actually laid eyes on the magical book. Once again, the mythical had brushed by him—taunting him with possibilities.

Some unknown force was dangling the truth before him then asking him to wait— but for what? he wondered.

Still, Gunwook tried to stay optimistic.

“You’re right, I’m sorry—I just wished we had some proof! I’d love to rub the truth in quite a few people’s faces.”

Gyuvin slung an arm around Gunwook’s shoulder and gestured to the battered half of his face.

“What do you mean? We have tons of proof right here.”

“Oh yeah, nothing says ‘I just had a magical encounter’ like a busted lip and a black eye.” Gunwook said sarcastically, but an amusing thought crossed his mind, “I could say I got kicked by a unicorn.”

Gyuvin’s eyes sparkled at Gunwook’s improved mood as he ushered them towards the path home.

“Now you’re getting it, let’s go party!”

Gyuvin was right. Although he hadn’t seen it, there was no explanation for what just happened that wasn’t supernatural.

A strange realization came over Gunwook — something very magical had violently punched him in the face today.

He was one step closer to a truth that eluded him for years— what a great day indeed! Gunwook hoped that maybe if he was lucky, the book would appear again. He was strangely confident it would.

A fractured place in the back of Gunwook’s mind began to slowly knit itself back together. He looked at the world and it seemed a little brighter. Even the trees on their way home, with their old cracks and moss, held a new shine.

The two boys walked the beaten dirt trail through the Black Forest, back to the place Gunwook recently learned to call home.

Two years ago, when Gunwook turned eighteen, the city alerted him to a property he owned. The parents he never met, apparently dropped the ownership papers and him off at the orphanage’s front door. The city had kept possession of it for him until he was of legal age to take ownership. He’d been hesitant to accept the house at first, not wanting any charity from the people who abandoned him—but Gyuvin encouraged him to accept it. They started living there in their first year of university and Gunwook was surprised at how quickly it felt like home.

The house was old but charming. It had more vines than cobblestone visible on the outside, a pointy thatched roof, and a large garden overrun with wildflowers out front. The crown jewel of the whole place was the study, with its ornate wooden bookshelves and desk. He and Gyuvin had spent a long time cleaning the whole place up, with many years of dust having piled up. But it was all worth it to have a place to call their own, in a world that only took from them.

Arriving at the round wooden front door, Gunwook pulled out his keys to unlock it. He looked over his shoulder at Gyuvin while he pushed the door open.

“So what do you think is in that book?”

Gyuvin smiled back as he stepped through the doorway, and they began exchanging theories.

~( ˘▾˘~)

ROSEWOOD

Ten minutes. Matthew had ten more minutes of being Hanbin’s friend, before the man awoke to find Matthew had disappeared with the portal pass.

After sobbing on the floor for a while last night, Matthew collected himself and got to work. He packed light, as he didn’t expect to stay too long in the human world.

Taerae had narrowed the location down to the Black Forest with his vision. Since Taerae could feel the book, they would simply have to check different areas until he could feel it’s pull.

Matthew called it operation ‘grab-n-go cause the human world fecking sucks, but we don’t wanna die’. Taerae hated it, but failed to produce a cooler name in Matthew’s opinion.

Despite the short trip plan, he still made sure to bring a small dagger and healing potions in case they ran into any faerie hunters. Earlier, Taerae and him borrowed a map of the city from the library, and located the Black Forest. Luckily, Rosevale was a Mirror city to Rosewood.

The faerie realm and the human realm were mostly separate, but in towns near the border between the two worlds, the geography overlapped. This meant that the locations of forests and lakes were the same in both places. However, the humans had developed their land very differently from the faeries, so the landscapes barely resembled each other.

Matthew noted that near the human Black forest there were a few houses and some other small buildings.

“We’ll have to be careful not to run into any of these humans while we’re there.” He pointed to one place in particular.

“Especially this house. It’s deeper in the forest than the rest. They could be hunters.”

After mapping out areas the book could be, they carried out their plan to steal the pass. Matthew arrived at Hanbin’s house and showed him the spots they planned to search. Hanbin was so focused on the map, he didn’t notice the sleeping potion Matthew dumped into his drink.

From there it was easy, they went to sleep in Hanbin’s room, but only Matthew woke up the next morning. As soon as the sun came up, Matthew gathered his things and took the pass from Hanbin’s bag. He and Taerae decided to use a disguise to cross over, scared the council might send someone to follow them.

The disguise sadly had to be Hanbin, as they were using his pass. Matthew plucked a hair from Hanbin’s sleeping head, then dropped it into a potion he had pre-made. He downed the thick orange liquid in one go and felt the glamour fall over him. Checking himself in the mirror, Matthew whistled low—impressed. He had morphed perfectly into his friend.

Turning to leave, Matthew only paused once in the doorway to stare at Hanbin’s sleeping form, his heart twisting with guilt. He hoped Hanbin would forgive him when he returned. Matthew looked away and headed to the front door, where Taerae was waiting in his carrier.

Now, they were standing in line to go through the portal. Matthew bounced nervously in place as they waited.

He looked down at the chunk of black bark in his hand, metallic silver script that read “Return” etched into it. Which creeped him out ever since Hanbin first showed him the pass— it felt like a threat. He flipped it over and saw dots arranged in a ‘t’ formation and Hanbin’s name in a tiny font in the corner.

Matthew knew the cluster of dots, the name on was on the tip of his tongue—A faerie behind him coughed loudly, stealing his focus. The line had advanced without him noticing. He stepped forward quickly.

He watched faeries pass through a hole in a tree stump surrounded by red capped mushrooms and quickly disappear.

A bulky purple goblin stood by the entrance with a clipboard. Matthew checked his sundial again, 4 minutes. His potion would wear off soon; they needed to get through the gate fast.

He stepped up to the unfriendly looking creature. “Name and destination.” The goblin asked flatly, not even bothering to look up.

“Sung Hanbin, Rosevale.” Matthew responded, smoothing out his cape so he wouldn’t fidget.

The goblin looked up and smiled. They were normally grumpy creatures, so Matthew was a little scared.

“Ah Mr. Hanbin, a little early today aren’t we? And no flowers either —you must be in quite a hurry.”

Feck, Matthew thought. Of course Hanbin befriended the portal guard. Hanbin could charm a rock if he wanted to. Matthew panicked as he stumbled over a response.

“Oh well, you know how it is, the work never sleeps.”

The goblin frowned, “why is your work sending you to Rosevale? And pardon my saying this Mr.Hanbin, but are you ill?” He looked Matthew up and down, “Your voice sounds very strange.”

How odd. Matthew was sure Hanbin had gotten a pass for work, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the new discovery. The goblin was eyeing him with suspicion, and the glamour could wear off any minute. Matthew didn’t think he could be sweating any more, but he was.

Any ideas, Tae? We kinda need to get going. Matthew plastered an awkward smile on his face as he waited.

Spring goblins like treats Matthew, just give him something to eat so he shuts up.

Matthew scowled, he was going to have to sacrifice a beloved Maple puff— the day was not starting off well. He dug around in his bag and produced the pastry, as he tried to do his best ‘official Hanbin voice’

“My friend, you’ve caught me. I am a little ill, and need ingredients for a remedy from the human realm.”

Matthew shoved the treat in the goblin’s face, and watched his copper eyes glow with hunger.

“You take such good care of me on my crossings,” he pushed the puff closer. “And have such a long day ahead, how about a snack?”

The goblin snatched the pastry up, then waved them forward.

“Thank you Mr.Hanbin. My rheumatism has made me a little sensitive, I’m sorry for being so nosy.” He wrote on the clipboard quickly. “Enjoy your trip.”

Matthew felt his glamour ripple, he looked at the sun dial— 1 minute.

The goblin waved a hand over the pass Matthew held out and the silver lettering shined. The creature then turned and chanted a quick spell while placing one hand on the tree stump. The hole glowed bright white and Matthew rushed forward— his disguise slowly unraveling.

He waved at the goblin who smiled, while stuffing the treat in his mouth.

Matthew could have sworn he heard Hanbin’s voice as he walked into the tree stump.

The white light blinded Matthew for a moment before he stepped out into a forest that he did not recognize.

── .✦

ROSEVALE

For the first time in his life, Matthew didn’t feel the magical hum of the world he knew.

It was bright out as the sunlight filtered through the trees. The birds chirping announced that the day was just beginning.

The forest looked like the pictures Matthew recalled from his classes. Dirt covered ground with short green plants poking out and tall moss covered trees stretched out before them.

“So this is the human world huh. Wanna take a look, Tae?”

The duck was already poking its head outside to survey the new land.

It’s a little shabby, I’m not gonna lie, Taerae sent him as Matthew placed the duck on the ground.

“Well, we’re not here to judge, we need to find the book.”

Matthew pulled out the map, and plopped himself down on the ground.

“So the portal should’ve dropped us off around here. Since time is slower here, why don’t we see if you feel anything in these farther areas first and then….”

Matthew looked over at the duck, and noticed Taerae’s eyes were looking off into the distance.

“Hello, are you listening? Did you feel something?” Matthew tried to get the duck’s attention, but Taerae’s head remained turned away.

That way Matthew, it’s calling out to me.

The duck began to waddle away quickly, his body fading into the underbrush. Matthew scrambled to his feet and hurried after him. He looked down at the map in his hands and panicked. Taerae was headed towards the house they agreed to avoid.

He shoved the map in his bag and ran faster. Matthew followed Taerae onto a more structured path, barely dodging a few branches as he called for Taerae to stop. The duck was barreling through the trees quicker than Matthew had ever seen him move.

It’s so close Matthew, I won’t lose it again.

Not watching the ground, Matthew stepped through some bushes and right into a circle that glowed bright yellow. He was knocked back by an invisible wall.

Matthew looked at the floor in horror. He was caught in a faerie trap. He looked up at the bird’s disappearing form and cried out desperately.

“Please Taerae, stop!” He banged a fist against the invisible wall before him. Don’t leave me, he thought.

The duck paused. Taerae shook his head rapidly trying to clear it. He turned and rushed toward Matthew.

My honey, what happened, what’s wrong?

Before the duck reached him Matthew shouted.

“Don’t come any closer Tae, it’s a trap!”

The bird skidded to a halt just outside the circle.

A trap? How is that possible? I thought faerie hunters used iron traps. Taerae walked around the circle inspecting it for weakness. He sniffed the golden barrier surrounding Matthew.

This is ancient magic, humans shouldn’t know this spell unless… Taerae paused and looked up to meet Matthew’s eyes as they both feared the worst—Faerie hunters had found the book.

Matthew threw his arms up before dropping to the ground, landing on his butt. First he lost a maple puff and now this—worst day ever, he thought. Matthew considered for a moment that this was his karma for lying to Hanbin. He blew out an exasperated breath and surveyed the area— Tree,Tree, Bush, another tree, oh?

A garbage bin next to a lamppost with an orange dot caught his eye.

“Tae, over there— Iron! You can break the circle.”

Taerae waddled back around to look in the direction Matthew had pointed towards. Matthew I can’t move or grab those things. He spread his wings to accent his point, no hands.

“Right, sorry.” Matthew unclipped a tungsten dagger from his thigh and tossed it outside the circle towards the bird.

“Here, it was designed to break iron. Try and chip a piece off.”

Taerae picked up the dagger with his beak and waddled over to the bin. It was a bunch of black strips that made a cylinder with an open top that flowered out using shorter pieces. Taerae thought the smaller pieces would be easier to chip off. He set the dagger down and found a medium sized rock nearby. He rolled it over to the can and placed it near the base. He also picked some wet leaves up from the ground and stuck them to his feet.

”Tae, try not to touch the iron too much.” Matthew called from a distance.

The bird proudly lifted up a leaf covered webbed foot. I’ve got this Matthew, don’t worry.

“I believe in you!” Matthew smiled, waving a supportive thumbs up to him.

Picking up the knife again, the duck mounted the rock, crouched low, and launched himself up. Flapping his wings for a boost, he landed on the rim of the can. Iron still stinging his covered feet at the contact.

Taerae bent forward to start, but a vile scent hit his nose. Oh no, Matthew, it stinks, I’m gonna be sick. The bird turned its face away, repulsed.

I don’t have this, my honey—I’ll make sure your funeral is nice.

”C’mon Tae, you gotta do it! I’d like to not have my wings ripped off please.”

Taerae glanced over at Matthew’s bright smiling face and he started hacking away at the metal. Matthew hummed to himself as he waited, eyes wandering around the forest.

The trees were unfamiliar, and the land here was so different. The magic here was stifled, it unnerved Matthew and he missed the wild forests back home. The clacking of the dagger paused. “Are you done already Taerae?”

He looked back to the trash can, but the bird had disappeared.

Trouble, Matthew.

He heard the bushes rustle to his left as two tall boys emerged.

Matthew’s eyes widened, and the two men looked just as shocked to see him.

Tae, It’s hunters. Matthew sent quickly as he assessed the attackers.

Matthew first noticed the lanky brown haired boy. He had some blood smeared above his lip and scratches on his face.

These seem like the psychos who drink faerie blood hoping for powers, please don’t come out.

Matthew looked at his outfit and was terrified even more. The man was wearing a blue apron covered in red stains and held an iron frying pan in his gloved left hand. No doubt he had come from torturing some other poor faerie back at their lair, Matthew summised.

His eyes shifted right to the black haired man, who was staring just as intensely back. His face held an emotion Matthew was not sure how to interpret. He felt his insides squirm under the man’s gaze.

Matthew studied him closer, as he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

The man had a nasty looking bruise on his face, along with a few cuts and bandages poking out beneath his sweater.

Injuries Matthew assumed were acquired from hunting other faeries. He was tall and well built, Matthew could tell a muscular frame was hidden under the large sweater and baggy pants he wore. He was an evil lump of muscle, Matthew decided.

He glared at the duo in disgust.

Not only had they stolen the book, but they probably harmed countless other faeries. They were clearly very cunning and skilled at faerie hunting having set such a complex trap. The two men were much taller than him, but Matthew was never one to back down from a challenge.He scanned the area and saw a flash of white of feathers behind the trash can.

I’ll try to hold them off, stay hidden and run away when you get the chance.

Matthew stood up to face them, regretting a bit that he had given away his dagger.

Still, he raised up his fists, spreading his wings wide to look bigger—they were not taking him without a fight.

Matthew saw Taerae sneaking up beside the two men, dagger in his mouth.

No way Matthew, there’s no reason to hide if there’s nobody to hide from.

(ง •̀_•́)ง

Chapter Text

ROSEVALE

“HER WHISPER IS THE LUCIFER!!” Gunwook shouted at the top of his lungs dancing to the choreography perfectly, while Gyuvin was doing ad-libs from the couch. Eumppappa sleeping peacefully upstairs, used to the noise.

They had spent most of the night playing Gunwook’s favourite drinking game. Someone picked a random number, and then flipped to the corresponding page in a random book about faerie’s. The person who didn’t pick reads the page, and the other tries to guess what the paragraph was talking about.

Gyuvin always won.

But no matter what, the evenings when they drank always ended in karaoke.

The song finished and Gyuvin stalked off into the kitchen to grab them some water.

“Can you grab my Choco stixs?”

Gyuvin scanned the wooden cupboards until he found their special snack one. Gunwook was looking for a new song to play when he heard Gyuvin curse from the kitchen then a loud bang.

Gunwook ran into the room to see Gyuvin clutching his nose, blood running down his hand.

“Gyuv, you okay? What happened?”

Gyuvin looked like he’d seen a ghost as he frantically pointed at the sink, “the book..it’s the book,” he muttered.

Gunwook threw some napkins at Gyuvin and rushed over to the sink. His eyes almost popped out of his head. There it was, the book that knocked him out a few hours ago.

A darker shade of pink than Gyuvin described he noticed. However, it still had the sparkling crystals, and raised gold lettering that read “Tome of the unknowns”. He didn’t even touch it yet, but it was humming with energy.

He recalled how Gyuvin described it. ‘Bedazzled dictionary’ indeed, he thought

Gunwook’s eyes glowed with wonder and his body shook with excitement.The book enticed him closer with its faint glow— crystal light bouncing off the sinks metal.

He gingerly reached out to lift the book from the sink. It felt like it belonged in his hands as soon as held it.

A strange energy slid through his fingertips and straight to his head. The neurons in his brain began shooting fireworks to his nerves in response, and his whole body charged like a rod struck with lightning.

“I don’t believe this is happening Gyuvin!” Gunwook looked over at his friend to confirm he wasn’t dreaming.

“I mean can you… can you —stop bleeding on my rug, you never had a nosebleed before? Tilt your head forward.”

Gunwook tucked the book under his arm and rushed over to Gyuvin with more napkins.

“Pinch your nose, and bend.”

Gunwook held the napkins in place as he guided Gyuvin back into the living room. He sat Gyuvin on the couch and had him lift the napkin from his nose.

“Looks like the bleeding slowed, but the book scratched your face a bit.”

Pushing some bottles and books aside, He set the strange tome down on a low wooden table in front of the couch.

He turned back to Gyuvin, still clutching his nose and laughed a bit.

“Stay here, I’ll grab the first aid kit.”

His alcohol soaked brain found it hilarious they’d both been hit in the face by the same book. He returned with the kit and sat beside Gyuvin cleaning his face up.

Neither of them spoke, unsure of what to do next as the book lay on the coffee table before them. When he finished they both turned and stared at the tome.

“I need another drink,” Gyuvin said, grabbing a bottle on the table and emptying its contents.

Taking a shot himself, Gunwook reached out and flipped the book open.

He snatched his hand back quickly with a hiss and leaned into Gyuvin.

“What was that? Did it bite you?” Gyuvin inspected his hand for injury.

“Something like that”, he leaned forward to inspect the empty book, making sure not to touch it. “Maybe it doesn’t want to be opened.”

The book sat before them—blank. Gunwook, emboldened with liquid courage, reached out to turn the page. The book didn’t bite him this time and he flipped a few more pages— all of them were empty.

“Well the book’s a dud, there’s nothing in it! We got assaulted for no reason.”

Gyuvin pointed an accusing finger at the book and squinted his eyes at it.

“You blood thirsty disco ball, we want information! What are you?!”

Gunwook rolled his eyes, and lightly smacked Gyuvin’s hand back.

“Nothing is gonna help you if you just yell at it, maybe we have to say something special.”

Gyuvin nodded in understanding, and summoned his most eloquent words.

“Open Szechuan, show me a spell to catch a hottie.”

The book remained unresponsive, and Gyuvin tipped his head back groaning.

“Well that was my best, He flopped back on the couch and closed his eyes, “the book is a scammy, scammer.” He mumbled.

Gunwook watched his drunk friend and shook his head, then flopped back next to him.

“It’s open sesame, and you can’t just say stuff like ‘yo show me a faerie trap.’” Gunwook chuckled as he looked back at the book.

“Holy shit,” he hiccuped, “Gyuvin look!”

Gyuvin’s head shot up, and both boys stared in awe as the pages flipped themselves to a random spot. Ink started to appear on the pages in a foreign script, along with a drawing of a magical circle containing symbols and lines.

“Oh wow Gunwook, I think you did it.” Gyuvin tried to place a sloppy kiss on his cheek, but Gunwook craned his neck away.

“You’re a wizard, Gunwookie.”

He pushed Gyuvin’s face away, then the man flopped back on the couch again. Gunwook turned his attention back to the book.

He felt too drunk to really process what he had just done, it didn’t feel real, and yet it was. He tried his luck again.

“Show me the nearest moon gate to the faerie world.”

The book shuttered a bit, but it only flipped to a blank page. He chewed on his bottom lip.

“Show me a faerie trap.”

The book flipped a few pages back to display the trap it originally showed them. Gunwook wanted to try asking the book for other things to see if it had just been a fluke, but Gyuvin suddenly stood up —wobbling a bit.

“Let’s try using it, I’ll catch that man one way or another.” He announced, then walked around the corner into his room.

Gunwook stood up and followed him. From the doorway he only saw Gyuvin’s bottom half moving, as he was waist deep in a large chest looking for something. He lifted an armful of red spray cans from the trunk and walked to the door.

“Now? You mean right now?” Gunwook turned to let him walk by and followed after him again.

“Gyuvin, it’s 1 am at least take a flashlight!”

Gunwook opened a cabinet in the hallway and found two headlamps. After placing one on Gyuvin, he grabbed his sweater, then started shoving his foot in a rain boot.

Gyuvin raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not gonna tell me some reason why we should do this later or something.”

Gunwook smirked, as the more level headed of the two, he was acting a bit rashly.

“A magical book just gave us a trap, and I’m absolutely wasted. I’ve never been more excited to try something in my life.”

Gunwook’s whole world had been flipped in a matter of minutes. He waited all this time for proof of magic, he was not going to wait a moment longer to see if the book was the real deal. Gyuvin smiled down at him and slipped on his matching green rain boots .

“Well, don’t forget our aprons.”

They got dressed and looked at each other proud.

Over the years of failed attempts they had added a new piece of clothing for every trap they tried.

The aprons for when they were covered in paint after their first attempt. The rain boots for any wet terrain caused by the summer heat, welders gloves because of an unfortunate poison oak incident. Ball caps for anonymity — they’d been reported on a few occasions as cultists. And the newest addition, headlamps, thanks to the cost of fixing a smashed cell phone screen from tripping in the woods at night.

Gyuvin nodded to Gunwook “I think we’re all set and—oh shit, the book.”

“Right, my bad.” Gunwook turned and ran back to the living room, tripping a bit on the rug as he grabbed the book and shoved it in his duffle bag. “Okay, let’s go!”

ʕ͙••̫͑͡•ʔͦʕͮ••̫ͤ͡•ʔ͙

They walked deeper into the woods, their head lamps illuminating the areas the moonlight could not reach.

“Gyuvin, are you sure you saw this guy around here? Since when do you walk Eumppappa so far from home?”

Gunwook looked at the pocket map they’d been making of the area. The trees all looked the same to him at night. He didn’t know how Gyuvin was walking drunk with so much confidence.

“She normally pees after like ten steps and wants to go home when I walk her.”

Gyuvin pushed a branch aside as he shone the light ahead.

“Eumppappa has an adventurous spirit just like us, I walk where she takes me.”

They stepped out of the bushes onto a well worn dirt path surrounded by tall grass.

“She senses that you just wanna stick your face in books all the time.”

He hopped on some rocks to cross a stream silhouetted by moonlight.

“But the world is out here, and I hope you’ll take more chances to explore it. Not all the answers are in a book.”

Gunwook stared at his friend’s back, he became strangely poetic sometimes when he was drunk.

He didn’t think Gyuvin noticed he’d been reading more about faeries recently, rather than looking for them. He knew Gyuvin hid any serious thoughts behind his kind smile and jokes. These small moments when Gyuvin’s raw feelings slipped out were his favourite. Gunwook wanted the truth whether it was kind or not.

He gazed up at the moon that kept him company long before his friend. He knew why he hid himself in books. Gunwook wondered if there would ever be an answer to the loneliness that always sat in his chest.

Despite Gyuvin’s kindness, Gunwook never forgot the coldness of the world that shaped him. He made a quiet wish in his mind. He sighed and trailed after his friend.

Gyuvin saw a lamp post light shining through the trees and perked up.

“We’re here, that’s her favourite lamp post to pee on.” He pointed to the middle of the post. “I even marked it with this cute little mango sticker.”

Gunwook looked around but the area wasn’t very different from other spots in the forest. The Black Forest was an old hiking trail, so there were plenty of open areas like this one. Gunwook didn’t see anything special that would attract a faerie. Gyuvin pointed at a raised spot lined with waist high bushes.

“He normally appears around there.”

Gunwook opened his dufflebag to retrieve the book as Gyuvin started shaking the spray paint. He looked down at the book amazed this was really happening. It isn’t an illusion, he reminded himself.

Gunwook opened it and the pages were blank once again. He hesitated a moment, not sure if the book would obey him.

“Um, can I see a faerie trap please.”

The book rumbled in his hands, as it flipped the pages showing him the circle he saw before. He sighed in relief and pinched himself for good measure. He didn’t want to be trapped in a paralyzing dream either.

“You ready Gyuvin? I’ve got the trap here.”

Gyuvin was still testing the paint,holding it backward the first few tries. He jumped back in surprise as the paint sprayed all over his apron.

“Oops, he turned the nozzle away, “ready-o Wookie”.

Gunwook stood close as he told Gyuvin what to draw, turning the book to show him when he got confused. After Gyuvin sprayed himself and Gunwook a few more times, they stepped back to admire their handiwork.

“So what now? Should we just hang out here?” He turned to Gyuvin concerned, “I don’t know what hours faeries or wannabe serial killers keep.”

Gyuvin having sobered up a bit from the cool night air, looked at the paint in the dirt intently.

“He’ll come, we just have to wait.”

The two of them sat there across from the bushes for a while, but nobody appeared. The alcohol mostly drained from his body, logic was starting to return to Gunwook’s brain.

“Gyuv, can’t we just wait at home? If the trap works he’ll be stuck here anyway.” He stood offering a hand to Gyuvin to help him stand.

“He might be a little cranky, but if we free him it should be okay.”

Gyuvin nodded, his head drooping forward. He yawned and took Gunwook’s hand to stand.

“Oh yeah, I guess you’re right. We’ll check it first thing in the morning.” He took one last look at the area, “nobody really walks around here anyway.”

They grabbed their things and began the trek home. Gunwook held the book tightly to his chest the whole way.

They made it home around 3 am, bodies exhausted, they were both ready for sleep. Gyuvin flopped onto the couch relaxing in an upright position, throwing his hat on the floor, and fell asleep instantly. Gunwook dropped his bag, undid his apron, threw off his gloves and joined him. Laying his head on Gyuvin’s thigh and wrapping around his outstretched leg like a koala on a tree.

The book hung loose in Gunwook’s hand, almost on the floor. They fell asleep together, but one boy floated to a distant time.

⋆୨୧˚૮ ＾ﻌ＾ა˚୨୧⋆

Another dream, maybe something else—Gunwook was once again rooted in place, forced to observe.

This time he was watching two faerie children blast magic at each other outside an abandoned ruin.

A boy with ash purple hair and pale yellow wings was shooting fire balls at a red haired boy that made the air ripple in front of him, dropping the fireballs at his feet.

“You’re getting better” the red head called to the faerie flying above him.

“It doesn’t matter, I can’t summon any visions.”

The yellow winged faerie lands at the bottom of a staircase leading to a free standing arch.

He sits and cradles his head in his hands. “Maybe it was a mistake, what if they test me and it doesn’t work?” He lifts his face and runs a hand through his hair. “I overheard some guard saying the last faerie they tested almost died.” His voice caught in his throat, “I don’t want to go, but I can’t hide a power like this forever.”

Tears started to gather in the corners of his eyes. Gunwook tried to get a better look at their faces, but he was stuck at the top of the steps under the arch. The faerie had his back to him so he couldn’t see his face clearly, and the red head was standing a little too far away.

Gunwook tried to maneuver his neck for a better view. To his surprise he managed to move his shoulders as well. However, his lower body remained firmly rooted to the ground.

The red head walked over to sit beside the older faerie, patting his shoulder.

Gunwook finally got a good look at his face. He was young, but all of his features were sharp, including his long ears, and he had a refined air about him. Gunwook noticed pale blue eyes, and wondered if he had just inserted the man Gyuvin described into a dream. The blue eyes seemed so wise for such a young child.

“Your visions saved me once, I’m sure you have some type of prophetic gift…” The red haired boy was silent for a moment when he saw the fear on the other boy’s face. “I can protect you.”

The older boy looked at him confused.

“What do you mean? Dark elves aren’t always welcome around here you know.”

The red haired boy nodded in agreement, a sleek black tail with a tuft of black fur at the tip appeared—swishing behind the boy.

Gunwook frowned, he never read much about dark faeries. Not due to a lack of interest, but most people didn’t live after encountering them—or so the books claimed. He never liked the way dark elves were written in the stories. Evil, blood thirsty, and untrustworthy—it seemed unfair to him. People forget how quickly they’d stop cherishing things without the threat of their absence. To him, dark faeries were just like tornadoes or wildfires—they simply existed in nature, but it was humans that told horror stories about them. They were all faeries, just a different kind. Still, what concerned him most is that Gyuvin never said anything about the red head he met being a dark elf.

Gunwook once again felt his dreams and reality clashing in the strangest way.

“I’ll steal a protection spell from the catacombs” the elf gazed up at the setting sun. “The winter solstice is tomorrow, I’ll be at my strongest.” He stretched open his palm and the air around them rippled in response.

“Meet me back here at sundown and I’ll cast it.” He stood up, sunlight casting an orange halo around him as he spoke.

“Then you can take the test without fear, trust me.” He smirked puffing his chest out, “I may be young, but my magic is strong.” The red head pulled the other faerie up by his wrist.

“In the meantime you still need to practice, those fireballs couldn’t cook a leaf.” The yellow winged faerie huffed in anger as he floated up a bit, “let’s see if you can still say that bald.”

He shot a fire ball and the red headed ducked out the way laughing as they continued to play. Gunwook smiled, they seemed like good friends. But Gunwook’s restless mind was buzzing with questions. This was his third strange dream since he encountered the book, and he was starting to think they were connected. He looked at the boys playing below him, trying to search for reason in what he was seeing.

It was just some teenage faeries talking about something he didn’t understand and training. He turned his attention to the environment for a possible answer.

Unfortunately, before Gunwook could properly analyze his surroundings, his fingers started to burn, and the necklace below his shirt was glowing again. A white light blinded him, and an alarm was blaring in his ears.

┬┴┬┴┤•ᴥ•ʔ├┬┴┬┴

Gunwook shot up with a gasp, his forehead connecting with Gyuvin’s nose then his friend stumbled back—a frying pan dropping out of his hand.

“Ow, shit Gunwook, you tryin’ to break my nose.”

Gunwook looked around a little disoriented from his dream, the smoke detector was ringing in his ears.

“Sorry, but what’s going on, is there a fire?”

Gyuvin wiped his bleeding nose, a little bit dripping onto his already paint stained apron.

“Huh? No — I was cooking us breakfast and I tried to ask how many eggs you wanted, but you wouldn’t wake up.”

Gyuvin picked up the frying pan and fanned the smoke detector, silencing it. Eumppappa trotted into the room drawn by the commotion, she brushed by Gyuvin’s leg, and he smiled while reaching down to pat her head. She sniffed the air then barked and Gyuvin sighed.

“Now, my eggs are burnt cause you were stuck in dreamland.”

The tall man walked back to the kitchen to clear the mess—the dog remained, staring at Gunwook’s lap. He looked down in confusion, he didn’t think he fell asleep with it in his lap. He felt a tingle in his fingertips as the book started rumbling in his grasp.

“Uh, Gyuv— I think the book is gonna explode or something.”

Gyuvin rushed back into the room and watched the book shake and glow faintly in his hands.

“Ah! Why is it doing that? Put it down!”

Eumppappa barked at the glowing tome, jumping around the room.

Gunwook panicked and threw the book on the table next to him. The book flipped itself open to a page displaying the same circular trap from yesterday, the drawing was flashing gold, lighting up the room.

The dog ran up to the table, standing on her hind legs trying to peek at the open page, tail wagging. Gunwook stared down at it trying to interpret the meaning.

Eumppappa dropped her paws from the table, spun around in a circle, then sat down, looking up at Gunwook with wide eyes. Something clicked in his mind. He threw off the blanket Gyuvin must’ve covered him in, and stood up.

“I think we caught him!”

Gyuvin was at the door in an instant shoving his boots on, Eumppappa followed, bouncing around while looking up at Gyuvin as he dressed.

“You’re joking, I haven’t even changed or showered, and now my face is bloody. I don’t want him to see me like this.”

Gyuvin tried to smooth out his bed head in the tiny mirror on the wall by the front door. He turned to Gunwook.

“Be honest, how do I look?”

“You look like a handsome knight ready to save a princess. You’ve never looked better.”

Gyuvin in fact, had never looked worse. But it’s what’s inside that matters most in Gunwook’s opinion.

He also just didn’t want to tell Gyuvin that he had dark circles and eye bags from staying up late. Wrinkles all over his clothes, and his apron looked like it was stolen from a butcher’s shop. Not to mention the blood stain smeared over his top lip and tiny scratches on his cheek.

Frankly speaking, he looked like shit.

However, they may have just caught a faerie, and Gunwook wanted to see whatever was in that trap as soon as possible. He grabbed his hoodie and headed towards the door to put on his boots. He didn’t bother to check his appearance, he knew his face was still in bad shape. Eumppappa was tugging at Gyuvin’s boot, trying to keep him from running out the door.

He patted her head and opened the front door, “we can go for a walk later.” Gyuvin promised.

She darted outside into the front yard and disappeared under some tall flowers in their garden.

The boys stepped outside in yesterday’s clothes, ready for whatever they were going to see.

Gyuvin turned to Gunwook, “I can’t believe we did it!”

Without another word, Gyuvin set the frying pan down and they locked eyes; then started high fiving each other with both hands, while squealing and jumping up down like school girls seeing their crush.

Gunwook stopped and cleared his throat, “okay let’s go, I can’t wait anymore.” He grabbed Gyuvin’s arm while he was bending over to grab the pan, pulling him towards the front gate.

Eumppappa appeared suddenly, tugging at Gyuvin’s boots again, then dashed back—running in circles by the front door.

“We’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”

Gunwook and Gyuvin were already at the low wooden gate.

Gyuvin waved to her one last time before Gunwook tugged him into the forest.

Gyuvin was still clutching the frying pan with gloved hands as they ran towards the trap. Gunwook’s heart was racing, he felt an invisible string yanking his body towards the trap.

For once, he was dragging Gyuvin behind him to their destination. The book was leading him to something incredible, he could feel it. Even the summer breeze was on his side, warm winds pushed at his back— urging him on. He cleared the trees and reached a marshy flat, without hesitation he moved through the reeds.

He wasn’t sure how, but he knew the way. Dirt sprayed behind him as he dashed through long grass, and bounded across a muddy stream.

“C’mon Gyuvin faster, we finally got something!”

Gunwook saw the lamppost through the trees and dragged Gyuvin through the bushes to see— his angel?

(-‿◦☀)

Chapter Text

ROSEVALE

Holy Fucking Shit, a string of curses crossed Gunwook’s mind as he tried to take in who he caught. It was his angel, the boy Gunwook thought he made up — sitting there like he didn’t just appear out of a dream.

He looked a little older, but it was a face Gunwook would never mistake for anyone else. His eyes roamed over the little faerie in the glowing circle.

He had coiffed straw blond hair that ended near his neck— the morning sun made it shine like a halo around his head. Short pointed ears poked out beneath the fluffy strands at the side of his head.

Gunwook’s fingers twitched with the urge to push the hair behind his ears.

The boy was dressed like he stepped out of a fairy tale. He wore a forest green hooded cape with hand stitched maple leaves lining the edges. Billowing sleeves with ruffles at the end poked out of the long cape, and the loose white shirt was tucked into light brown pants, held up with a thin belt. He had a few leather bands with small pouches on them, strapped to his thighs and one strap attached to his knee high boots.

The faerie’s eyes shifted from Gyuvin to Gunwook, and a shiver ran down his spine. The literal man of his dreams sat before them.

Gunwook couldn’t look away, his heart was hammering in his chest—threatening to jump out.

His angel stood, popping his wings out from the cape. They were even more radiant in person. The sun rays made them sparkle like pale green jewels.

For a moment, he was back in his dream, entranced by the person in front of him. Then Gunwook remembered his own shabby appearance and cursed himself for not even fixing his hair.

In his haste, he forgot he wanted to make a good impression on the first faerie he’d ever met. Gunwook felt the urge to flee and come back in a better state, but his curiosity kept him in place.

Gunwook’s gaze returned to the man’s face and his stomach dropped.

His angel looked absolutely livid. Gunwook had been so busy checking him out he hadn’t noticed the boy shifting into a defensive stance. He looked over to Gyuvin whose face was frozen in confusion.

In the daylight he really saw how awful they both looked—faces battered and clothes stained red.

They were expecting to catch a faerie Gyuvin knew, so they didn’t even consider being seen as a threat.

He wanted to travel back in time and slap himself for not thinking, or planning— he was throwing out all of the alcohol at home. Another string of curses floated through his mind, none of this made any sense.

Gunwook tried to rein in his emotions and think, planning was what he did best.

First step is communication, he’d seen E.T, and read enough books about faeries to know that most supernatural beings could be reasoned with. Gunwook was a former debate team champion and a gifted speaker.

If he couldn’t figure this out, he might as well throw all of his trophies out.

He stepped forward to speak, but a blur of white filled his vision and he was pushed onto his back. He heard Gyuvin shriek beside him.

Gunwook looked at his chest to find a duck standing over him— a sharp knife in its mouth. Despite the faerie he just trapped being present, this was the strangest thing Gunwook had ever seen.

The creature’s intelligent eyes bore into him and he stared at it wide eyed, unsure of what to do.

Gunwook’s instinct was to throw the duck off him, but punching a maybe magical duck, would not lead to the peaceful conversation he planned.

The duck reared its neck back ready to stab him with the strange metal weapon.

“Watch out Tae!” His angel called out from the trap.

The bird jumped off of him, dodging a swipe from Gyuvin’s pan.

Gyuvin stumbled forward but recovered quickly, and stood in front of Gunwook, frying pan pointed at the duck.

“Look here you demon chicken, I don’t know where you came from, but if you hurt him I’ll cook you raw.”

The duck shuffled back to stand between them and the trap, sinking its neck low, wings spread in a protective stance.

Gyuvin and the bird were having the weirdest standoff on earth— all they were missing was a tumbleweed.

Gunwook groaned. This could not be going more wrong. He was going to convince the faerie that he and Gyuvin are not evil, and then free his angel, maybe even receive a thank you kiss — but that could always come later.

That dream however, was in pieces the second this avian devil appeared. The bird and his angel were exchanging glances but neither of them spoke. The animal even quacked at the faerie before turning back to them, eyes pinned on Gyuvin’s pan.

The two were sizing each other up once again— locked in a battle of wills. He was about to ask Gyuvin to stand down, when the duck dashed forward, swinging it’s neck wildly, dagger slicing the air.

Gunwook watched impressed as Gyuvin deflected several strikes with his pan, the knife cutting shallow lines in the iron pan.

Evading a few more stabs, Gyuvin managed to bat the pommel of the dagger out of the duck’s mouth and into the bushes. With the bird unarmed, Gyuvin seemed to read his mind, trying a more diplomatic approach.

He dropped the frying pan, kneeling to eye level.

“You’re a very brave duck, but there’s no need for all this. We are not going to hurt you.”

Gunwook wasn’t an animal expert, but he didn’t think crouching like a tiger was a sign of submission.

He wanted to warn Gyuvin to back up, but the bird quickly launched itself at his friend—hissing loudly. Gyuvin threw his arms over his head as the bird tried to peck at his face.

“You’re doing amazing Taerae, peck his fecking eyes out.” His angel cheered from the circle, holding a white crystal up like he was filming the fight.

Gunwook stared at the faerie shocked. They were supposed to be mostly peaceful and reasonable— his angel and pet chicken were absolutely insane.

“Gunwook, a little help please.” Gyuvin managed to shout as he avoided a particularly hard peck .

Gunwook stood and approached slowly with his palms raised. He’d never caught any ducks before, and he didn’t think he had a talent for it—he was actually a little terrified of birds.

The duck paused its assault, looked at the trap where his angel stood, then turned to scowl at Gunwook. The animal hopped off of Gyuvin and charged for him, beak snapping. The bird flapped its wings and propelled forward, knocking Gunwook over again.

The duck was much stronger than it looked. To his knowledge most birds didn’t weigh much, but this creature fell on him like a ton of bricks. It tried to peck at the bruised half of his face and Gunwook threw his arm up in defense.

“Ah, human eyes are not nutritious!” The duck managed to hit his cheek. “Ow, Gyuv, do something.”

“I’m coming, Wookie.”

Gyuvin stood over them, trying to angle himself into the peak bird snatching position.

Grabbing the duck by its middle, he tried prying it off of Gunwook, while the bird’s wings smacked him in the face.

The duck latched its clawed feet onto Gunwook’s sleeves and was quacking angrily— refusing to let go.

The second Gyuvin pulled the bird off, it turned to attack him.

Free from the violence, Gunwook stood trying to wrangle the bird as well.

“We’re not here to hurt you!” Gunwook tried to shout over the bird’s wrathful quacks. The two were struggling to hold the bird between them.

The duck was trying to get at Gyuvin’s eyes again, when a man stepped into the clearing from the bushes.

“Taerae, leave them alone!” He commanded, red hair blazing in the sun.

They all froze to stare at the beautiful man who stood across from them. He wore an all black ensemble,with matching leather gloves that extended over thin jacket sleeves— a rectangular black bag strapped to his back.

Gunwook stared hard and recognized the face. The man was older than in the dream, but his features remained sharp as a blade.

He was missing the pointed ears and black tail, but the face was uncanny.

Gunwook was baffled, another specter from his dreams had found him in the waking world.

He also had to admit Gyuvin wasn’t lying, the man was very striking.

The ice in his stare pinned them all to the spot as he stood there, more poised and deadly than anyone Gunwook had even seen—radiating power.

“That’s him Gunwook. Isn’t he pretty?” Gyuvin whispered in a very excited tone from behind the duck.

Gunwook’s mouth was just hanging open, his brain trying to dissociate from everything he was seeing. Too many thoughts were swimming around in his head.

“Who the feck are you?” He heard his angel ask, the trap only an arm’s length away from where the red head emerged.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but the duck honked and wiggled from Gyuvin’s grasp, rushing towards the red head.

His angel was speaking to the air as he shouted.

“He did what?!”

There was a pause and the faerie’s expression turned sour as he yelled at the bird.

“Oh, roast his ass.”

The bird honked in affirmation, opening its beak to shoot out a fist sized fireball. The red head managed to dodge it, but the bird shot several more flaming orbs at him.

Gunwook watched the two, although a bit more violent, he was reminded of his dream. It wasn’t just the way the red head looked that Gunwook had gotten right, but even the way he moved with feline precision was exactly the same.

He watched the red head evading the blasts with practiced ease, like he had fought the bird for years.

A thought crossed his mind that Gunwook could no longer deny—maybe he was doing more than just dreaming.

The bird continued to attack the man, aiming mostly for the head.

“Taerae, wait let me speak.” The red head tried, as a fireball was hurtling straight for his face, grazing his neck when he moved out of the way.

“Hey, you can’t kill him, I don’t even know his name.” Gyuvin protested as he ran to scoop up the pan again—rushing back into the fight.

Gyuvin reached them and stood in front of the red head, batting away a barrage of fireballs. The man tried to push Gyuvin aside.

“I don’t need your help, we just need to talk.”

Gyuvin swatted another fireball away and turned his head to the side.

”Does it look like he wants to talk?”

An orb sailed towards Gyuvin while he was distracted, The red head raised a hand past Gyuvin’s face and the air rippled, sizzling against the magical attack.

The man’s skin shimmered and his glamour fell, Gunwook saw the red head now had long pointed elf ears and a nervously swaying black tail— just like his dream. Gyuvin’s eyes popped open.

“I knew it! You are a faerie.”

The elf turned his head, their faces inches apart as he grabbed Gyuvin’s waist and side stepped them away from two more flaming spheres.

Then a third fireball fell as the space shuttered around them. They looked at each other silently, Gyuvin’s eyes searching for something.

“Why can’t you just…“ the elf tried to speak, but several spheres fired at the duo and they broke apart to evade them.

Gunwook watched as the trio maneuvered around the small clearing, no end in sight to the brawling.He could not take any more surprises, his head was going to explode. 

Determined to end all this, he stormed over to the faerie in the trap.

His angel skittered to the opposite side of the circle from where Gunwook approached. Before he could get any closer, Gyuvin shouted at him.

“Gunwook, hit the deck!” He looked left to see four fireballs flying towards his face.

He dropped to the floor, barely dodging the blasts that whizzed past him, slightly singeing his hoodie.

“This cannot be happening” he denied, Gunwook was on the brink of tears.

He threw his face into the grass, laying on his stomach just outside the circle.

The faerie in the trap looked at the pathetic man sprawled out before him, and the two others struggling to fight off the duck. He sighed and seemed to come to a realization.

“Um, excuse me, faerie hunter guy.”

Gunwook lifted his head and saw his angel crouching before him, staring down in confusion.

“Are you guys like, new or something? You can’t even take down a bird.”

Gunwook sat up, stray blades of grass stuck in his hair—communication! he mentally cheered. This was good, this he could work with.

“I’m glad you asked, it’s a very long story, well it’s not that long— but we are not faerie hunters! In fact, I’d say we’re faerie lovers.” Gunwook spat out breathlessly, trying to smile kindly. “We weren’t even sure if this trap was gonna work.”

They both stared down at the glowing circle between them.

“Ah, I’ll have you out of this in no time, don’t worry. We were actually trying to catch that guy over there.”

The faerie tilted his head, considering the words.

“So, is that what happened to your face? Did he do that?”

His angel motioned to the red haired elf.

“You wanted revenge?”

“Oh— no, this giant pink crystal book hit me the other da..”

The faerie pressed closer to the barrier, palms splayed across the invisible wall.

“A crystal book!” He mimed the tome’s size, " like this big and thick?”

Gunwook nodded slowly. Taking in the sharp points of the boy’s eyes, and the rich brown of his irises.

“It hit my friend in the face as well. It should be called the Tome of Violence.” He muttered, picking at the grass.

His angel giggled at that, and it was Gunwook’s new favourite sound.

“You’re a very odd human” he scanned Gunwook’s eyes, “but I don’t think you’re lying.” 

The faerie stood and turned, wordlessly staring at the duck.

Gunwook followed his gaze and saw the bird extinguish a fireball in its throat, then rush over to them.

Confused at the sudden change, Gyuvin and the elf followed close behind. The bird stopped in front of Gunwook, studying him closer, extending its neck to look him deep in the eyes.

“Taerae is asking how many crystals are on the book.”

Gunwook looked between the two, confused.

“And Taerae is—the duck?” He guessed, pointing to the bird still invading his personal space.

His angel nodded.

“The duck is asking about the book?”

He shifted to sit cross legged and the bird stepped between his legs, eyes locked onto Gunwook.

“You told them about the book?” Gyuvin shouted, arriving at the trap. “C’mon man, we don’t even know them.”

“When did you get the book?!” The elf smacked Gyuvin on the shoulder as he eyed the glowing circle. “Did you try to trap me?”

“Taerae says—Answer my question first, you thieving rat.” His angel announced in a flat tone, tapping the barrier to get Gunwook’s attention.

“Excuse me, but do you speak duck?” Gyuvin questioned, staring at the faerie in the trap.

“Gyuvin, that’s a dumb question. They obviously share a psychic link.” The elf shook his head.

“We didn’t steal anything by the way. It slapped me in the face, then stalked me home.” Gunwook mumbled while the two bickered above him.

“And how would I know that?” Gyuvin yelled, waving his pan in the air almost smacking the elf in the head. “Ducks here don’t have psychic powers.”

“It’s not the bird that has— you know what, never mind and technically…”

“He’s not a duck,” the elf and trapped faerie spoke at the same time. They shared an awkward look, Taerae honked in Gunwook’s face.

His angel looked to him with desperate eyes.

“He’s getting agitated, please answer the question.”

“Oh, well, I mean it’s covered in them. I didn’t have time to count.” Gunwook tried to scoot away from the bird, as it nodded but did not back up.

“Well, if he’s not a duck, that’s even stranger.” Gyuvin thought out loud.

“Where is the book now?” his angel and the duck pressed Gunwook with their eyes.

“None of your business.” Gyuvin cut in defensively, standing over Gunwook, shooing the bird back.

Gunwook stood up and patted Gyuvin’s shoulder, gently moving him aside. For some inexplicable reason, he trusted the odd pair.

“Why don’t we free you from this trap first, then we can take you to the book?”

“Taerae doesn’t trust you and asks that you bring it here.” His angel suggested.

“And what if we don’t trust you.” Gyuvin objected, pointing at the duo with his frying pan. “Who even are you? What do you need the book for?”

“Well my name is Matthew,” the angel gestured to himself “and this is Taerae we..”

“Fire,” the elf cursed, cutting the story off as he gazed above the tree line.

They all turned to see black clouds of smoke rising in the distance.

Gyuvin and Gunwook shared a terrified look, the only building in that direction was their home.

“Did you turn off the stove?” Gunwook uttered, looking at the sky in horror.

“The book wouldn’t happen to be in that direction, would it?” Matthew looked down at Taerae and the duck nodded.

“Excuse me,” the two boys turned back to Matthew. “Taerae is very good with fire, I’m sure we could help.”

Matthew pointed to the frying pan in Gyuvin’s hand.

“If you wouldn’t mind setting me free.”

Gyuvin eyed Matthew with suspicion, and held the pan a little closer to himself. Gunwook rolled his eyes while he snatched the pan.

He walked over to the trap and dragged the iron through the circle in the ground, the golden lines sputtered. The light flashed one last time then went dark, Gunwook stepped back so Matthew could exit the trap.

Matthew grabbed a wicker basket from the floor along with a burlap backpack, and cautiously walked out of the circle. He flipped the lid on the carrier at his side for Taerae to jump inside.

“Okay, we should hurry. I don’t know how durable that book is.”

Matthew glared at the elf, as he flapped his wings wide.

“I also don’t think he should come.” The tension in the air spiked, Gyuvin grabbed the elf’s wrist before another fight could break out.

“He’s coming, end of discussion.” Gyuvin dragged the man away as they headed towards the burning house.

Gunwook cleared his throat awkwardly and stepped up beside Matthew.

“We would appreciate your help too, if you um, wouldn’t mind.”

Matthew’s shoulders loosened as he sucked in a large breath.

“Of course, after you, uh…”

“Gunwook, my name is Park Gunwook.”

Matthew smiled, gesturing in front of them.

“Take us home, Gunwook.”

They ran quickly after Gyuvin and towards the burning house.

* ε= ε=┏( >_<)┛

When they all arrived the home was a sea of flames. The blaze burned through the pointed roof and the fire erupted from the windows. The fire was consuming the house from the inside out.

The cobble stone exterior remained mostly untouched but anything worth saving was within, where the fire raged the hottest.

Gunwook’s heart sank as he watched the only place he ever called home burning to ash.

“My house!” Gyuvin wailed, running towards the side of the burning building.

He lifted a garden hose from the wall, twisted the nozzle, and stepped back to extinguish the fire.

The hose haphazardly thrown on the grass tangled his limbs in the process. Gyuvin tripped backwards— water spraying in the air.

“Pathetic” Matthew tsked, shaking his head.

“You know I could just..” The elf chimed in, about to step forward.

“No need.” Matthew held up a hand silencing him, “we can do this without your kind of help.”

The faerie tapped the basket strapped to him and the duck’s head popped out.

“Let’s show ‘em how it’s done, Tae.” He set his bags down and lifted the bird out. Matthew grabbed the bird by its middle, and Taerae extended his neck to its full length.

He walked closer, holding the bird towards the raging inferno. Taerae opened his beak and absorbed a small section of fire, before coughing up a large black cloud of smoke. Matthew eyed the bird in dissatisfaction.

“Come on Tae, Suck harder! We’ll never clear the flames at this rate.” He jiggled the bird like a broken tv remote. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already.”

The bird craned its neck around and huffed the fumes into his face—glaring daggers at the faerie.

“Well, there’s no need to swear so much.” Matthew coughed, and fanned the air in front of him.

The elf stood next to Gunwook and snickered.

Sighing, He took in the scene as well.

Gyuvin at the side of the house, tangling himself further into the hose, turning the nozzle head trying to find the right water pressure.

Matthew holding Taerae like a vacuum cleaner, trying to extinguish the fire with little success.

He watched the flames rage higher—devouring his only sanctuary in a cruel world.

“I don’t suppose you can spit water or something, I’ll take anything at this point?” Gunwook ventured, while tugging at the black coat the elf wore.

“I can do something better.” The elf smirked, dropping his bag as he confidently strolled towards the fire. 

He made his way to the side of the home where the flames were lowest, and Gyuvin was battling the hose.

The elf inspected the stone wall, looking for something. He seemed to find it as he pushed some vines aside, removed a glove with his teeth and shoved it in his pocket. He placed a scarred hand over a tan rock, then closed his eyes—speaking low.

The rest of the coloured stones vibrated in response, lifting, as a wave rippled through the building.

Another shock wave swept over the home, as the walls warped under an invisible force. Gunwook’s eyes widened, it looked like the house was breathing.

The fire blazed brighter at first, then rapidly, the flames began to retreat into the house.

Then all the windows slammed shut and stone walls puffed up one last time, breathing out— the fire was extinguished.

The windows swung back open and dark clouds flowed out slowly, dissipating into the atmosphere.

The elf stepped back and smirked, put his glove back on, then pivoted to help Gyuvin untangle himself.

After helping him up, Gyuvin’s head swiveled around the yard.

“Eumppappa”, he whispered, trying to find the dog.

He called her name louder and heard a bark from the woods behind them.

Turning quickly, he hopped the fence and he ran off towards the sound. The elf glanced back at the house once, then followed after him.

⋆₊˚⊹ ࿔⋆

Matthew had moved far back from the home when it started to contort— the stones almost pushed them over.

Now he was standing in front of Gunwook, patting Taerae’s back, trying to knock the remaining smoke out of the bird.

Setting the wheezing creature down, the pair had a wordless discussion as they inspected the damage.

Suddenly, Matthew started rushing for the front door, Gunwook lunged forward, catching the faerie’s wrist before he could reach the handle.

Matthew’s face twisted into a strange expression as he looked at Gunwook’s hand.

“It could still be hot,” he motioned to the copper door handle, “we don’t know the damage inside. You could get hurt, w-we should…”

Gunwook paused as he felt the nape of his neck burning, he dropped Matthew’s hand and hissed, clutching the spot.

Matthew started to reach for him when Taerae slammed through the front door, and rushed inside.

He turned at the sound and chased after the bird, side stepping the crooked door.

“Hold on a second.” Gunwook called. Stumbling after them into the charred remains of his home.

The floor boards groaned under his feet, threatening to cave in. His eyes roamed the wreckage of his living room, everything was charred or falling apart.

Even the furniture that remained intact, was scorched beyond repair.

The rafters looked unstable, ready to collapse at any moment. Their colourful wallpaper had burned away—exposing the brick beneath.

Gunwook scanned the room for any salvageable items, but in the sea of blackness, he saw only the sparkly tome remained.

It sat unharmed on the coffee table where he left it—a ring of undamaged wood below it.

Mathew and the duck stood before the book absorbed in a silent debate, unaware of their surroundings. Gunwook heard the ceiling groan as a piece of wood broke loose, crashing down towards the duo.

“Look out!” Gunwook cried, his body instinctively moving to reach them.

Matthew saw the object and dropped down to cover Taerae with his body—tucking his wings in, waiting for the impact.

Gunwook’s muscles spiked with adrenaline, propelling him forward. Long arms wrapping around Matthew’s huddled form, Gunwook knocked them away. His shoulder smashed into the floor, splintering the charred wood under them, as the plank dropped onto Gunwook’s body, cracking in two.

He braced himself as he heard more wood snapping, and cradled the boy in his arms closer.

Gunwook grunted in pain as some stray slats of wood fell onto his head, the sharp corners from others jabbing into his ribs.

The house creaked some more, then finally—silence. Gray ashes floated down from above, then wafted through the room.

Matthew lifted his head from Gunwook’s chest to stare at him—eyes shining.

“Why would you do that? You’re a fragile human, you could’ve died!”

Gunwook glanced down at Matthew unsure of how to respond. 

He didn’t even know why, his body just moved on its own.

Yet at the same time, the answer was simple — Gunwook didn’t want Matthew to get hurt. He would’ve just said so if the implications weren’t so serious.

If he had a better understanding of the feelings that were brewing in him every time he looked at Matthew.

Gunwook coughed up some soot and sat them up —wood falling away. Matthew, still holding the bird close, was looking at Gunwook with new eyes. Gunwook scratched the back of his head.

“I’m not really sure, but I’m more sturdy than I look, so it doesn’t hurt that bad.” He patted his shoulder to make a point, then winced in pain.

Matthew’s lips pressed into a thin line while his hand reached out to brush some dust from Gunwook’s hair, his expression softened again.

“But it does hurt, doesn’t it?”

Gunwook froze under the soft touch, his body unsure what to do with such tenderness.

There was a unfamiliar thundering in his chest. He gazed at Matthew, a new feeling was sparking in him, setting his whole body ablaze. While heat was pooling at the base of his neck.

Gyuvin’s hands were always friendly and nice, but Matthew’s—Matthew’s were tender.

The hands touching him were ones he’d run into a thousand burning buildings to feel again. The thought of ever losing them made him mad.

In fact, he was even seeing red—red?

Matthew’s kind expression turned to panic as he retracted his hand, fingers stained crimson.

He screamed Gunwook’s name.

₍^. .^₎⟆.☘︎ ݁˖

Gyuvin ran through the woods, desperately calling out for his dog. He turned in every direction trying to spot her tiny grey form.

Catching up to him, the elf examined the area as well. The bushes near them rustled as Eumppappa emerged unharmed, bounding towards Gyuvin. He scooped her up and peppered kisses on her face.

“My smart girl, you knew to stay away from the fire.”

She licked Gyuvin’s cheek and barked once, tail wagging. Spotting the elf she wriggled in his arm. As soon as her paws touched the ground, she raced towards the red head—running in circles around him.

The elf shifted nervously, eyeing Gyuvin as he studied them—like he was piecing a puzzle together.

The elf sighed in resignation, crouched down to pet the dog’s head, then whispered something low. The dog barked and ran off into the bushes towards the house. The elf’s ears twitched as he turned to the same direction, brows knitting in concern.

He moved to leave, but Gyuvin caught his shoulder.

“Hey, I wanna talk to you.”

The red head spun, looking exasperated. He shifted to step back, crossing his arms— leaning against a nearby tree.

“I know you.” Gyuvin stood in front of him, an arm’s length away.

The elf snorted. “Yeah, I know you too, we met while you were walking your dog.”

Gyuvin sighed, running a hand through his hair as he pressed closer.

“No, I’ve seen you somewhere before that.” He rubbed his forehead, “I just can’t remember when, but we’ve met before, and I think you know that too.”

“Don’t be silly, Gyuvin.” The elf looked away, suddenly very interested in the grass, trying to back up into the stiff bark of the tree.

“I never told you my name.” Gyuvin challenged, studying every inch of the elf’s face — stepping forward.

“What? You probably did and just don’t remember. You talk a lot, you know.” The elf was fidgeting under Gyuvin’s scrutiny.

Gyuvin leaned down, so that their eyes could meet. The redhead started rubbing the back of his hand absentmindedly, while angling his body away slightly. His long ears twitched again.

“Let’s go back, I think your friend needs help.” Gyuvin slapped his large palms against the bark by the elf’s shoulders, caging him in.

“No. I didn’t tell you my name, you’re lying!”

Their faces were inches apart now.

“And I want to know why.” Gyuvin clenched his jaw, trying to pull memories from a place they didn’t exist.

“It’s bothering me—you’re bothering me.”

The two exchanged glares, neither willing to back down.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered.” The red head warned, suddenly very annoyed with Gyuvin.

Eumppappa started howling in the distance followed by distressed barks. Their heads spun back to the house. The elf slid under Gyuvin’s arms and disappeared into the trees, striding quickly towards the sound.

“At least tell me your name.” Gyuvin called, jogging to follow him out of the woods. He only paused to flinch at a sudden stabbing pain in his shoulder, as he climbed over the fence into their yard.

“It’s Ricky.” The elf answered, not even turning back as he slipped through the doorway.

Arriving to see what all the noise was, Gyuvin stopped in his tracks.

“My door,” he gasped softly from the entrance, trying to put it back on its hinges.

He turned to see Matthew dabbing blood from Gunwook’s forehead with his sleeve, the other hand holding him steady—Ricky standing at a distance. Matthew’s ears sensed his approach.

“He’ll be alright. I have some potions in my bag, could you go…” Matthew turned to Gyuvin and gaped at him wide eyed.

Gunwook, who had his eyes fixed on Matthew, looked to Gyuvin as well. His mouth dropped open.

“Gyuvin y-your, they’re…are you… this whole time? THE WHOLE TIME!” His tone bounced between shock and anger, while Gunwook looked at him in disbelief.

Gyuvin’s eyes shifted to Ricky in confusion, the man motioned to his ears and head in return.

Gyuvin swore, clamping a hand over his ear, a short pointed end poked his fingertips. Moving his hand up, he felt tiny deer horns sticking out.

He lifted a shaking hand and looked at the ring on his finger, the amber gem embedded within no longer glowing.

“I knew It!—well I didn’t know it, but I had my suspicions”

Gunwook started pacing around the burnt living room, while his head continued to drip blood.

“Who has to touch every door handle with their sleeve first, and I’ve never seen anyone devour mangoes the way you do—that’s your lure right?.”

“The way I eat mangoes is not weird.” Gyuvin tried to interrupt as Gunwook buzzed around the room, listing every strange thing Gyuvin ever did.

“Ah, and that one girl who kept an iron horse shoe above her door, you couldn’t go in her dorm room.”

Gyuvin glanced at Ricky who watched him unimpressed.

“Notes, I was borrowing notes.”

They all watched Gunwook unsure if he was taking it incredibly well, or spiraling out of control.

“It all makes sense, your eyes shine gold sometimes, and I tried to tell myself I was being crazy because why…”

Gunwook stilled, finally arriving at the only question he really wanted an answer for.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Gyuvin stiffened and he twisted the ring on his finger—eyes dancing around.

“I- uh, I don’t know.” He turned away, unable to look at Gunwook’s hurt expression.

It was the only truth Gyuvin could give. His heart told him there was a good reason—he had to protect Gunwook, but his mind could not form a full explanation.

The answer rested in an empty hole that had been punched through his memory.

“Oh okay, that’s cool. No, it’s fine—why would I need to know that right?” Gunwook let out an empty laugh.

A heavy silence fell over the room, then Gunwook quickly walked towards the door. Tears bubbling in his eyes as he pushed past Gyuvin.

Gunwook was on the way to a very successful storm out, when the blood loss and stress of the day finally caught up with him—he dropped like a sack of potatoes onto the grass.

“Gunwook!” They all rushed outside as Gyuvin tried to hold him up, his head lulled forward, and his body was shaking.

Matthew dashed to his backpack and grabbed a clear vial with a shiny blue liquid inside.

Gyuvin held Gunwook closer as he approached with the vial. Matthew knelt at their side, smiling softly at Gyuvin.

“His body has a lot of injuries. Let me soothe them—please.”

Gyuvin nodded and Matthew titled Gunwook’s head back to dump the potion in his mouth. But Gunwook’s body was twitching, and his head kept bobbing side to side.

“Hold him steady.” Matthew instructed Gyuvin, before he drank the rest of the potion and grabbed Gunwook’s face.

He pressed their lips together, forcing the potion into his mouth. Gunwook shivered and his body stilled, but he did not wake.

“I don’t understand, he should be better.”

Matthew’s brow furrowed, while his hands frantically roamed Gunwook’s body for fatal injuries.

Gyuvin chewed on his lower lip.

“It’s okay I can get him.”

Without another word he closed his eyes and gently placed a hand over Gunwook’s necklace.

Gyuvin felt for his friends subconscious and tugged.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

Gunwook was standing in the doorway to his room. Only it was decorated like a nursery for a child. Plants and dried flowers were scattered around the room.

A mobile rotated slowly above a crib, dangling crystal stars that reflected rainbows in the room. A man stood over the crib with his back to Gunwook, stroking the head of the child lying inside.

Gunwook’s eyes widened, next to the man, no older than a preschooler, was Gyuvin. He stands on his tippy toes trying to peer into the crib. He heard a child laugh as little Gyuvin shook something in his face. The man laughed as well, ruffling Gyuvin’s hair. Gunwook wanted him to turn around. He felt like he really needed to see his face.

The man spoke as he patted Gyuvin’s head.

“You’ll remember to keep him safe for me, won’t you?”

The man let a ragged cough and Gyuvin dropped to his heels as he looked up at the man, saluting.

“Of course! I belong to Gunwookie.”

The man chuckled while he looked at the child below them.

“He’s not your master Gyuvin, He’s your…” another bout of coughs cut the man’s sentence off.

The man was about to turn, but Gunwook felt himself being pulled away from the scene as it faded. The child version of Gyuvin staring at him as his eyes glowed yellow.

He reached his arm out in vain as his mind was dragged back into his own body— two golden orbs watched him through the blackness.

He gasped, flinging his eyes open to find three faerie heads and a duck all staring down at him.

His body felt great, and his face only mildly stung, but his mind was in shambles.

A deep sorrow washed over him when he looked at the beings he once prayed to see.

He sat up, glanced at the burnt house, then over to Gyuvin and his pointed ears— it was all too much.

He had every answer and no answer. Gunwook quickly stood, then ran off into the woods.

Gyuvin stayed on the grass watching him.

How could he chase after him?

He had no explanation to offer.

Their home and their friendship had been reduced to ashes.

ʕ ´•̥̥̥ ᴥ•̥̥̥`ʔ

Chapter Text

ROSEVALE

What do you do when the man who was almost crushed by his burnt home to save you has his life torn apart?

You sit down and reflect on the innumerable tragedies contained in a human life.

Saying Matthew felt bad for Gunwook was an understatement. He would’ve chased after him, had Gunwook’s emotions not electrocuted every nerve in him.

This was the downside of connective powers, sometimes emotions could slam into him if he wasn’t careful.

Now, Matthew was meditating like he always did when a tidal wave of emotions struck him, and Gunwook’s emotions had almost knocked him out. 

Matthew took a deep breath and went over the strange events in his head again.

First, when their lips touched, a link snapped in place like it had always been there. Then, as the boy continued to sleep, Matthew felt a sadness slowly creeping in.

After Gunwook woke again, he realized something was off— The final and strangest thing.

Not only had a connection formed in record speed, but it was powerful. It was so strong it rivaled his link to Taerae—to the point where the boy’s sadness felt like his own.

Matthew had to barricade his mind in order to re-center himself, which took a few hours.

The sun had almost dropped behind the horizon, and the moon was making its ascent. He felt the last traces of sorrow fizzle from him.

After one last deep breath, he regained his composure and allowed the world to flow in again.

How long is he gonna sit like that? Taerae lay in his lap recovering his own energy.

Matthew cracked one eye open and his gaze landed near a wooden gate. Ricky was sitting next to Gyuvin with a hand on his forehead.

I don’t know Tae, I’m not even sure what kind of dark magic he’s doing. I’ve never done memory restoration before.

Matthew stroked the duck absent-mindedly, trying to soothe his nerves.

Using magic to alter the mind is a tricky process, and any number of things could go wrong.

Shouldn’t we help then? Ricky has a talent for breaking things, but I don’t think he’s very good at fixing them.

Matthew uncrossed his legs to stand, but Ricky was already on his feet.

“Call me when Gyuvin wakes up.” He commanded, then headed towards the woods.

“We don’t take orders from…” Matthew was cut off by a short bark to his left.

There was a grey dog seated near them, that rushed to Gyuvin’s side and curled up in a ball next to him.

They both looked at the quiet yard, the last streaks of sunlight fell behind the trees.

What do you want to do now? The book’s in your bag, we could just leave. Taerae shifted to rest his head on Matthew’s thigh. I feel bad for the human, but we’re not very rich with time right now.

Matthew tapped his thigh while he chewed on the inside of his cheek. He agreed they should get home, but the image of Gunwook’s sad and still bruised face wouldn’t leave his mind.

Matthew glanced at the sleeping faerie on the grass, his face twisted in a pained expression, and back to the woods.

It felt wrong to just abandon them without making sure everything was alright. He pulled out a beryl green healing tin from his bag and stuffed it in his pocket.

Taerae climbed out of his lap as Matthew stood, scanning the forest—trying to feel for Gunwook.

“Okay, I’ll just go make sure he’s not dead and then we can leave.” Matthew declared, but the words felt wrong coming out of his mouth. “Watch the book and the traumatized tall man. I’ll be back soon.”

Taerae quacked and dragged Matthew’s backpack towards Gyuvin then planted himself on top.

Matthew made his way into the dark woods, hoping to find a very lost boy.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

Ricky’s ears twitched as the forest came to life and the daylight faded to dusk. Deep in the forest, all the new sounds bombarded his senses. However, he knew this area all too well and found Gunwook quite easily. There were small disturbances one might not see if they were new to these woods, but Ricky was no stranger here, and he thrived in the darkness. 

He spotted Gunwook sitting on an old wooden dock, surrounded by reeds and cattails. Once he stepped out of the trees and onto the flatter grass that surrounded them, Ricky recognized the pond and almost laughed at the irony. Lily pads and duckweed were scattered on the water’s surface, the gaps between them reflecting moonlight.

He heard soft sobbing as the crickets and frogs sang their melodies— heedless of the miserable boy who sat among them.

His boots thumped against the old wood, Ricky loudly cleared his throat, dreading the conversation they had to have.

“Gyuvin, I don’t want to talk.” Gunwook turned to find the elf standing behind him, and wiped some tears from his eyes. “Oh— what do you want? Did Gyuvin send you?”

Ricky toed the dock with his boot, then advanced forward to stand next to Gunwook. He noticed several cattails strewn out around the boy, he picked at one while swiping away tears.

“No he didn’t, he’s resting.” Ricky shifted nervously on his feet before speaking again, “I actually came to return something to you.”

“I don’t think I ever gave you anything. I’ve also never met anyone with the hair colour of a stop sign.” Gunwook pouted, still plucking at the cattail.

The elf frowned at the last comment.

“It wasn’t really given to me.” He bit his lip, unable to let go of an insult to his hair. “And I’ve been told my hair resembles an elegant strawberry. It’s also a sign of luck where I’m from. Many people would be honoured…” Ricky paused as he felt the conversation leading off track, and Gunwook was watching him with a bemused expression.

Ricky stood up straighter, regaining his cool composure, and tried a more direct approach.

“Listen, my name is not you. It’s Ricky, and I have what you want.”

Crickets filled the brief silence, as Ricky fiddled with his gloves.

“Well?” Gunwook pointedly stared at the elf’s empty hands and scowled—out of patience for the day. “Is it in your pocket or something?”

Ricky smirked then dropped next to Gunwook on the dock, their feet hung just above the water.

The elf’s expression turned solemn as he took the cattail from Gunwook’s hands, discarding it in the water.

“You technically never lost it.” He gently tapped Gunwook’s forehead, “It’s up here, just hidden.”

Gunwook looked even more confused, but he waited. 

Ricky gazed at the moon, its gentle glow encouraged him to release a truth locked in his heart. 

“Everything Gyuvin has ever done is because he loves you.” His eyes remained on the sky as he let out a heavy breath, “and everything I’ve done to you is because I used to be an arrogant little snipe who wasn’t brought up right.” 

Ricky dared to look at Gunwook, but he had already grabbed a new cattail and was picking it apart, gaze fixed on the water. Ricky took the silence as an invitation to continue.

“I thought I should warn you before I remove my magic. You may regret wanting to know.” 

Gunwook paused, but didn’t look up as he squeezed the cattail. 

“Why did he lie to me? I don’t care if it’s bad. I’m just— so lost…” Tears were forming in his eyes again and Ricky panicked, he was not good with tears. 

“oh—no need to turn this pond into a salt lake.” He waved his arms around like an adult trying to distract a toddler. “If you’d let me restore your mind, I think you’ll find the answers you want.” 

“Really?”Gunwook sniffled a few times.

Ricky nodded, guiding Gunwook to lay on his back. 

“Is it gonna hurt? I’ve never read anything about this.” Gunwook sat up on his elbows, “but I guess if one had their memory erased, they wouldn’t remember to talk about it. Then again…” 

Ricky covered his mouth and gently guided him back down, shaking his head.

“Questions later.” 

Gunwook tried to relax his body on the stiff wood. 

“It’ll just feel like a dream, close your eyes.” 

Ricky discarded a glove onto the dock and placed his hand over Gunwook’s eyes.

“These memories might not all return at once, so you may have strange dreams or headaches for a while.” 

Gunwook let out a dry laugh. “I’ve only had strange dreams these last few days.”

Ricky gave him a half smile, like he already knew, and Gunwook felt his head warming. 

“Gunwook?”

“Yeah, Ricky.” 

There was a long silence, and a breeze gently rustled the trees.

“I’m so sorry.” 

Gunwook was plunged into a dark place as he felt his subconscious shimmer, and two torn pieces of his mind began to reach for each other. 

But, Gunwook took more than just his own memories, as scenes began to play in his head like a movie.

/ᐠ - ˕-マ｡˚ᶻ 𝗓

THORN ISLE

“Stand up straight, Ricky.” A wooden stick struck his lower back. Ricky held himself higher, trying to maintain his posture.

“All this power is wasted if you cannot control yourself.” 

His mentor was in a bad mood today, the other elf children watched from a distance, having already failed their assessments. They observed him with cold pale eyes, and Ricky felt their magic prickling his skin.

“Focus, don’t let others distract you.” Ricky rolled his eyes as the man walked behind him, jabbing the stick into his side. 

9 more minutes — he chanted to himself. The burning in his arms had turned to a dull throb as his body locked itself in the familiar stance. 

“Smaller” his mentor commanded, another strike landed between his shoulder blades.

He flinched, but did not buckle, holding his arms steady. 

7 minutes— sweat coated his tiny body as his magic flowed into the puppet strapped to a chair before him, dangling above long crystal spikes. The puppet swayed and squirmed in the chair. Ricky clenched his teeth trying to keep it from falling, his tiny hands trembling with the effort. He felt bristling all over his skin, as he simultaneously tried to push the other children’s magic off of him. 

The doll dropped, mimicking a dying scream when the spikes pierced through it.

“You killed another one,” his mentor observed, before turning to dismiss the other children.

Ricky relaxed his stance, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to push the sound from his mind. He moved to leave as well, but his mentor blocked his path, shutting the door behind the last child. 

“Not you” he tapped the wooden stick against his palm. Ricky gulped and held out his hands—4 minutes. 

Hands bloody and scarred, he ran from the room and into the palm trees.

He raced forward without a destination, until something caught his eye. Ivory rocks were stacked in a circular arch. The stones peaked out from behind thick foliage and moss, the space in middle vibrated with energy. He ran a hand over the rocks, and noticed they had an iridescent shine under the moonlight.

The entrance sputtered to life, and the air swirled between the rocks–beckoning him closer.

Wanting to be anywhere else, he walked through the gate without another thought.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

THORN ISLE —> ROSEVALE

Ricky sunk into the shadows of the cavern as he avoided the guards walking by. He patted the ring stuffed in his pocket and crept towards the exit. He had done this countless times, after every beating, he stole things from the treasury— a small act of rebellion. The elves were so rich, they had never noticed him stealing all these years anyway.

It soon became his favourite pastime and Ricky truly enjoyed the challenge of a heist. He crept further away from the treasury door, footsteps muffled by the sand and ocean waves cresting outside. When the guards strolled by again, he slid behind a large rock below a natural skylight. Using his magic, he made an invisible staircase and slipped through the tiny hole with ease. 

On the roof of the long cave he relaxed, stretching his legs out to enjoy the moonlight on the water. He fished his latest prize from his pocket. It was a silver band with an amber gem embedded inside. He held it up in the moonlight smiling — it was the perfect gift. He slid down from the roof and headed towards the forgotten moon gate tucked away in a tropical forest. 

He stepped out into the black forest, and ran towards his destination— the sun warming his back. He arrived at a low wooden fence and scanned the area. In the front yard, among the flowers and bushes, he spotted a small brown ball with tiny antlers poking out.

“Qubing!” he called, rushing through the front gate. The mess of brown hair perked up and turned to him, large eyes locking with his own.

“Rik! You’re early.” The young boy stumbled out of the bushes, still not in full control of his long limbs. He held a basket in his arms, filled with juicy red treasures that made Ricky’s eyes light up. 

“I picked lots for you today, so I expect your best.” The boy grinned, acting as if he wouldn’t hand over the strawberries if Ricky just asked.

“What’s first?” Ricky’s mouth watered as he eyed the berries, while Gyuvin laughed at him. He did everything Gyuvin requested, encouraged by the boy’s praises. 

He fixed holes in the house, moved large slats of wood. Then Ricky held Gyuvin’s hand to boost his magic, while the boy cast protection spells on the house. Ricky even had enough energy to help garden as well. He found his power flowed so easily without the threat of violence. Gyuvin fed him another strawberry, then he flopped on the grass— magic exhausted. 

A shadow covered his eyes as Gyuvin sat above him, shielding the sun’s bright rays. Ricky looked at the hand above his face, and the main reason for this visit returned to him. He pulled the ring from his pocket and slid it onto Gyuvin’s finger. 

Gyuvin dropped next to him holding it up to the sky.

“Aw Rik, you wanna get married already? You couldn’t wait til we turned 10?” Ricky laughed and lightly smacked Gyuvin’s chest. 

“No— it’s a glamour ring. You live amongst humans, you should protect yourself.” Ricky turned to look at him, “your magic’s so weak and pathetic. I’m surprised nothing’s tried to eat you again.” 

Gyuvin shot up “I’m getting stronger! Just you wait, this humble brownie will be famous for his protection spells.” Ricky laughed loudly at him.

“okay Qubing, and I’ll be a world renowned strawberry farmer.” He continued to laugh, but it didn’t resonate as deep in him.

“You know, you can be anything you wanna.” Gyuvin caught the change, because he always did.

Gyuvin started fiddling with the grass, and picking at some flowers as he turned away mumbling, “I could protect you too, if you’d just stay here.”

Ricky’s long ears twitched, it was a nice sentiment, but it was not one he could believe in. They were both too young to be in control of anything. 

The mid-day sun blazed in the sky, fluffy white clouds drifted by. 

He wanted to stay there forever. Basking in the sun, eating strawberries—next to Gyuvin. 

His latest wounds throbbed under his gloves.

“I should leave. I need to go help another weakling.” Ricky sighed, standing up and dusting the dirt off his coat. 

“Hey! —wait, already? You still have some strawberries left. We could paint the house.” Gyuvin whined, shaking the basket at him. He popped another berry in his mouth and palmed 2 more for the walk back.

“The house is done, Quibing.” He sighed, letting the sun rays soak into his skin one last time. His tail swished anxiously behind him. “I have some testing coming up as well, so I’m going to be busy for a while.”

Ricky looked into the little boy’s wide sad eyes and felt guilty, “I’ll still come back for more strawberries.” He waved, throwing some extra magic into the ring. 

Gyuvin followed Ricky to the gate, grabbing his arm before he left. He slipped a white clover flower ring onto Ricky’s pinky, and he lifted up his own finger to reveal a matching one. Gyuvin locked their fingers together.

“It’s a promise.”

Ricky sent him a tight smile in return. 

He didn’t know when he could return and Ricky didn’t like promises— but he liked Gyuvin.

“I promise.”

He closed the gate and left, but glanced back once to find Gyuvin watching him, pouting like an abandoned dog.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 

MOUNT THISTLE 

“I’m very disappointed in you. I knew you were incompetent, but I did not think you so dull as well.” His mentor repeated, for the fourth time that week.

The blows didn’t sting anymore, his body had started to numb his hands at some point.

“You’re entering your thirteenth season of life. If you’re going to steal spells from the forest faeries, at least don’t leave traces of your magic everywhere.”

His hands were trembling, was he in pain? He wasn’t sure what that felt like anymore. 

He closed his eyes while he held several puppets in the air. Images of strawberries and the sun flashed through his mind. Then the memory of Taerae transforming into something else because of him, the sound of Taerae shrieking as the faerie ran from him.

His bit his cheek hard, to dispel the thoughts, the puppets shuttered but remained suspended above the water— pain was his only constant now.

Ricky had been locked in the cave for what felt like years, and he believed he deserved it. 

They made sure to remind him everyday of his shortcomings, and how lucky he was that the council didn’t take more punitive measures for stealing.

They tried to pummel the truth out of him, but he lied every time, claiming he never used the spell. He stopped fighting the beatings as he practiced, and moved mechanically through his lessons. 

“Drop the third on the left, twist the fourth and sixth, take the arms off one and two, keep the other five up.” 

Ricky did as he was instructed, and his mentor grunted in approval.

“You’ll be given more freedom if you pass the next assessment, until then you will stay here as you reflect and practice.” His mentor, clad in all black like a shadow, disappeared into the cave’s entrance.

The elf made a point to ‘accidentally’ kick over Ricky’s only meal of the day, then muttered, “damn moon portending child.” With one last sigh, he used his magic to seal the exit. 

Ricky relaxed and the remaining puppets dropped into the water, bobbing around him face down. He couldn’t even bring himself to be excited, he had no more life in him than the puppets that circled him.

He pulled a brown withered flower from his pocket, the memories of the boy who gave it to him felt like a distant dream. He had so much he wanted to fix.

He frowned at his scarred hands and wondered if they could fix anything. Water dripped from a tiny hole in the ceiling high above, a small beam of moonlight leaked through. 

Would Gyuvin still be waiting for him?

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

ROSEVALE

Matthew’s irritation grew as he floated through the familiar yet unfamiliar woods. He wasn’t exactly lost, but he didn’t actually know where to go. Knowing how to navigate a forest and where Gunwook would runoff to were two separate things.

He made a promise to himself to learn more about Gunwook before he left—which was definitely very soon.

Sighing, he drifted along looking for any signs of him. 

Following the link was easy if your target didn’t move too much. Unfortunately, this human would not stay still, Matthew was walking in circles as he felt the boy’s energy flickering all around him. 

Closing his eyes, he tried to pinpoint an exact direction again. Many strings joined at the base lay before him, but no path called to him specifically—they were all a part of Gunwook. Matthew recalled the strange scene in the yard when Gunwook collapsed.

Initially he wasn’t sure what happened, but he was sure now— a part of Gunwook was leaving his body. Wings growing heavy, Matthew couldn’t strain himself much longer trying to grasp at a fractured connection. He needed a new plan.

He blew out an exasperated breath and plopped down on a nearby tree stump. Green lights floated into view as fireflies began twinkling around him. He considered the lively forest around him and did what he does best— Matthew tried to talk to it. 

All trees were connected— a forest was a family tethered to each other by their roots underground. If Matthew attached to one tree, he could later access the whole forest. Thanks to this, Matthew had never once been truly lost in most places he went.

Short on time, he opted to speak with the trees in the immediate area. 

Approaching a tree, he wrapped his arms around its thick trunk, and pressed his cheek into the solid bark, opening his mind wide. 

After a few minutes, he felt the trees’ energy and a new connection formed. Stepping back, he pressed a palm to the mossy bark, and sent his request. The trees here did not speak, but they sang in response as the moss shifted under his palm. The leaves and branches swaying melodically, while a summer breeze gilded through the trees — carrying even more fireflies to the area.

The bugs bounced in a circle around Matthew to the tune of the trees, he touched each one forming more links. They slowly tapered off to his right forming a line that led deeper into the forest.

Matthew smiled and bowed to the trees, then followed the fireflies to his destination. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Gunwook was standing outside his least favourite place— the orphanage. He saw Gyuvin and him kicking a ball between them, while the other children played far away from them. He tested his mobility and he managed to lift both his arms, his lower half remained paralyzed. Just like his other strange visits, he was a spectator. It was strange to see himself as a child, he looked so fragile and small. 

The orphanage was just as he remembered it, an abandoned school house repurposed for unwanted children. The brick of the building so weathered it looked black, and a tall imposing bell tower cutting through its center. The ball hit Gyuvin on the head, and Gunwook was shocked to feel the pain in his temple. Gunwook then felt his heart swell, as he watched the eleven year old version of himself rush over to make sure Gyuvin was okay. He ruffled the boy’s hair and the children resumed playing. 

Almost out of thin air, a pink book dropped onto the grass between them. They both froze and approached it slowly, an overwhelming sense of dread rushed through Gyuvin’s body, and flowed into Gunwook. Child Gunwook reached for the book, but Gyuvin caught his wrist and pulled him back into the orphanage.

The young version of himself kept looking back at the tree line in the distance. Following his eyes, Gunwook noticed a bright red flash in the trees darting in and out of view.

He swiveled to confirm that’s what the child was staring at, but they had already disappeared into the house. When he turned back, the book had already vanished—along with the red specter. 

He was sucked into the house as the scene darkened, and he reappeared at the edge of his bed in the orphanage. He watched Gyuvin anxiously pace around their shared room, rain hammering the glass. Gyuvin froze and drew back a tattered curtain to peer out the window. 

Gunwook saw horse-like creatures made of dark blue smoke dragging chains behind them, while moving in strange patterns on the grass. Based on what he knew, the smoke creatures were most likely puca. The shapeshifters were known to be mischievous, but never fatally harmful, in some stories he read they were even helpful. Gyuvin however, seemed troubled at their appearance and Gunwook finally understood why, as the creatures made unnatural and jerky movements outside—like they had no control of themselves.

Gunwook felt a spike in anxiety, he gazed down at the child sleeping below him. He watched himself moan and cry while sleeping, then small legs kicked beneath the sheets as he clawed at the air while shouting.

“I can’t breathe, they can’t breathe!” 

Little pixies were peering at them through a crack in the door, staring at the boy with ravenous hunger and baring their pointed teeth. Gyuvin grabbed a bag of salt from under the bed and rushed towards the door, the wooden floor creaking loudly under his feet. Gyuvin dumped it across the doorway, and threw some at the pixies for good measure. 

“Leave us alone.” He said in a sharp whisper, closing the door.

The faeries hissed then skittered away down the hall, as thunder rumbled loud enough to shake the sky. 

The boy in the bed stirred and Gyuvin rushed to his side, stroking his head.

“Gyuvin, are they here again?” Gunwook felt more fear grip him through Gyuvin, as he tried to lull the child back to sleep. 

“They’re all gone now, go back to sleep—I’ll watch over you.” Chills ran through Gunwook’s body and he returned his gaze to the front yard.

Outside nine dark shapes with glowing yellow eyes watched from just beyond the darkness. They seemed to be watching him, not the children. Gyuvin’s head blocked his view as the boy scrambled to the window, standing on a small stool.

Gunwook felt his palm cool when Gyuvin placed his hand on the window, and a small circle glowed bright then disappeared. 

Gyuvin poured more salt along the window sill and shut the curtain. The boy retreated to his single bed next to Gunwook and drew his legs into his chest, then began weeping softly. Gunwook’s heart sank as he watched the little boy try to keep himself together, and not wake the child next to him. Had Gyuvin been silently suffering next to him all this time? 

⋆°•☁︎⋆.ೃ࿔⛈ ݁ ˖*༄

He blinked and the room went dark. 

What do you do in your night time?

Gunwook heard a voice rich as honey echoing in the darkness. It drained every bad emotion from his body. Normally, he was violently pulled from these visits, but now it felt like he was being gently called back. 

Flying through the night sky…

He turned on the spot, trying to find the song’s origin. An orange shape entered his periphery, and a small fuzzy body brushed by his leg. He looked down to see a fox was circling him, trying to get his attention.

 May my heart reach you.

The fox bumped his legs harder, then pressed its paws into his sneakers. Retreating back, it gazed up sideways at him with sharp, but warm eyes. After circling him again, it stalked off behind Gunwook. As it padded away, the fox’s tail swished, glowing from within like a lantern. The light disappeared into the blackness, leaving a thin trail of glowing green moss. His eyes followed the path and a white light appeared, twinkling in the distance—where the song became louder. 

I hope you always have good dreams.

A serene feeling blanketed the space, as the voice seeped through his bones, and deep into his soul. Like a man possessed, his body walked towards the melody and the light grew larger, until he was enveloped in its warmth. 

I wish you good night.

⭒˚｡⋆ʕ⁠っ˕ -｡ʔ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⭒˚⋆

Chapter Text

ROSEVALE

Gunwook opened his eyes and found himself wondering for the second time in 48 hours, if he had died and gone to heaven.

He didn’t really believe in the place, but looking at Matthew, he was starting to rethink his position.

The faerie’s face hovered above him, while the glow from the fireflies illuminated his hair—there was a literal halo around his head.

Coming back to his body, Gunwook didn’t feel the hard wood of the dock, but the soft cushion of flesh.

Gunwook closed his eyes and opened them again, everything was the same. He sent a silent thank you to whatever force that allowed him to be using Matthew’s lap as a pillow.

Matthew was wholly oblivious to the frenzy he’d caused, as the faerie was too busy caressing Gunwook’s face, and humming.

Every part of his face Matthew touched left tingles in its wake— he interpreted this as the tingles of a new emotion.

The tender hands brushed over his nose and Gunwook noticed a strange green gel coating Matthew’s finger.

The soreness in his face faded with every feather light stroke, and Gunwook was beginning to rethink his tingle of emotion theory.

A finger traced the cut on his lip, and Gunwook began to panic a bit. He’d been staring at Matthew like a creep, and passed the acceptable point to mention he was awake.

He cleared his throat and waited. Matthew’s eyes remained fixed on his lips—lost in his task.

He didn’t seem to register that Gunwook was watching him. In fact, he seemed to be moving with mechanical rehearsed movements— hands sliding lower to rub the strange goo on his neck.

A different panic hit Gunwook, maybe his dreaming had not ended. He was still trapped in another body not his own. Forced to sit there, Watching—feeling.

Maybe Matthew, who had always appeared like a dream, was not truly with him. It was too good to be true as usual, Gunwook suspended logic in his excitement. Ricky had put him to sleep. Why would Matthew be here getting handsy if this was real life?

Gunwook could never predict what was going to happen when he closed his eyes anymore, but this was a fantasy he was happy to stay in.

Since this was clearly a new dream, he became curious about what he could do. Knowing at least his arms would work, Gunwook’s eyes locked on a target.

Shimmering in the moonlight were two jewels attached to Matthew’s back, that marked him as a forest faerie. Now that he was so close, he noticed a swirling sun pattern slightly shifting on the surface of the wings.

A lifelong dream of Gunwook’s floated through his mind, while he carefully reached up to touch the mythical.

His long fingers glided along the thin edge, smooth as silk, they slowly flapped under his caress.

“So beautiful.” He muttered breathlessly, eyes alight with wonder.

Matthew’s ears twitched and he jolted straight up, pulling his hands from Gunwook’s clavicle.

“Ah!—You’re awake!”

Gunwook snatched his hand back and shot up, Matthew’s cape slipping from his chest.

Not a dream, definitely not a dream. Alarm bells went off in his mind, and he threw his hoodie over his head—cheeks flaming.

He never read anything about touching faerie wings, but it was part of the body, so probably not cool to go around stroking wings uninvited.

He couldn’t look at the faerie as his senses returned to him. Cursing his curious mind, he quickly blurted out an apology, but kept his face down.

There was a tap on his shoulders and Gunwook turned his head slightly, Matthew was trying to peer up at his face.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, I didn’t know you were awake.”

He kept inching closer till their thighs were touching.

“Will you please look at me? I wasn’t done.”

Gunwook was even more embarrassed. Why was Matthew apologizing? He had been the creepy one.

He decided his best course of action was to flee and find a nice hole to die in, as he would never recover from this.

“Gunwook, your emotions are very disordered, can you please tell me what’s wrong?”

Matthew had basically crawled in his lap, trying to angle his head to see Gunwook’s face.

“I’m fine, it’s alright. I think I’m just gonna leave.”

Matthew’s hand clapped down on his thigh, holding him in place with surprising strength.

“No!”

Matthew loosened his grip when he felt Gunwook’s leg stiffen.

“Sorry, your feelings, they’re very—strong. I think you should calm down first.”

Gunwook nodded and Matthew’s hand slipped away, lifting to rest on his shoulder. Without another word Gunwook’s body was forced back into Matthew’s lap.

“Good boy.” He joked, patting Gunwook’s head lightly.

Another wave of emotions rocked through him, as Gunwook blinked up at him, stunned— face burning even hotter.

Reaching back, Matthew scooped up more green goo from a tin.

“What is that?”

Matthew’s hand paused above his face.

“It’s a healing salve, it contains a mix of calendula, mullein flower, and dragon root.” A mischievous smile spread across his face, “among some other things.”

Matthew’s face darkened suddenly.

“My friend made it, in case I got hurt when he wasn’t around.”

The faerie’s tone was even more somber, as his mind seemed to drift somewhere.

“Are you alright?” Gunwook questioned, tapping the palm that still hovered over his face.

Matthew shook his head and regained his smile, applying the salve to Gunwook’s cheek.

“This is a very good healing balm, you’ll be good as new soon.”

The summer air lightly rustled the faerie’s golden strands, and Gunwook took the chance to stare at his face again.

Looking closer, Matthew’s eyes resembled the fox he just saw—another puzzle piece he’d have to try and put together later.

Gunwook was overloaded with information for the day, and hadn’t even processed half it.

A comfortable silence fell between them, and the world was still. The minutes stretched on, and Gunwook began replaying the most chaotic day of his life.

He really wanted to talk about it, and he would normally talk to Gyuvin, but that wasn’t an option. His eyes landed on Matthew who remained focused above him, softly soothing his aches.

They say it’s easier to discuss your problems with a stranger than a friend. Gunwook felt like he could tell Matthew anything, and the faerie wouldn’t judge him.

“Have you ever lied to protect someone you loved?” He blurted out, watching the lily pads drift along the pond’s surface.

It was a loaded question, but it’s what weighed on his mind the heaviest.

Matthew’s hand froze, his finger pressed a little too hard on Gunwook’s bruised cheek—he hissed in pain.

Apologizing, the faerie continued gently, but his expression hardened, then melted into guilt.

“Yes.” Matthew whispered.

His fingers no longer moving in an organized pattern. They were instead tracing listless circles on Gunwook’s cheek.

It seems like Matthew needed a stranger too.

A few hours ago, Gunwook was probably making the same downtrodden face. Matthew’s expression looked so devastatingly human in the moonlight. If he didn’t have wings fluttering behind him, you might’ve mistaken him for one.

“Why’d you do it? Did you think they were too weak to handle the truth?” Gunwook prodded softly, desperate for an answer in a sea of growing questions.

Matthew was silent for a moment as he chewed his lower lip, while his free hand tapped on Gunwook’s arm.

“There is a story they always tell young faeries, it’s from a time before written records.”

Matthew looked down at him.

“Do you like stories, Gunwook?”

“Yes, very much.”

Gunwook was vigorously nodding in his lap.

Matthew shifted to lean back on his arms, then he launched into the tale .

“An ancient fae king took the wooden throne and later bore a son, but no other offspring. The child grew up smart and adventurous, despite how the king spoiled him, promising his son the world and more upon his passing. One night the king had a dream, it foretold a dragon killing his son. Believing strongly in the dream, the king told his son to remain locked in an extravagant palace stolen from a mortal king. The king provided all kinds of books, music, and art for his child to keep him entertained—but the prince craved adventure above all. Every year the son asked to be let out for just one day, and every time the king responded, “when you are older, you will be free from all of this.” However, the king had no intention of letting his precious son out into a world that could harm him. The boy remained locked in his tower, and resentment began to fester in his soul where love had once been. In his seventeenth year of life, he could not contain himself any longer, the prince looked at the snow laden landscape outside his window, signaling his approaching eighteenth birthday and yearned for escape. He turned to the wall and beheld a beautifully woven tapestry of many great beasts, and in its center sat a dragon. The son enraged by the creature’s appearance shouted, “you foul and wretched beast, it is by your horrid form I am confined and betrayed! I was promised the world.” Overcome with fury he lashed out, and tried to rip the tapestry apart. Unbeknownst to the faerie prince, a rusty iron nail sat behind it and tore through the flesh of his hand. The king arrived the next day to celebrate his son’s birthday, only to find his beloved child’s lifeless form on the floor— dead from the infected wound upon his palm, clutching a piece of cloth with the dragon on it .”

Matthew scooped up more salve and began working on Gunwook’s face again.

Gunwook wasn’t clear on what the story had to do with his problem. Gyuvin was protective of him, but he wasn’t crazy.

“Are you implying I’m a prince locked in a castle, and doomed to die?”

Matthew laughed at him,“is that what you got from the story?”

Gunwook shook his head.

“Well, I mean the moral is obviously that you have to face your problems and face your fate, right? You can’t run away from what’s meant to be.”

Matthew’s smile faltered as he nodded, “that is why they tell it. Fair folk believe fate is not a force that can tamed, but I always understood something different from the story.”

Gunwook was happy he interpreted the intended meaning of the fable, but was very curious what Matthew thought. He waited quietly for the faerie to continue.

“At the heart of every betrayal, sits love— You care for someone, so you lie and hurt them. Ironic isn’t it?”

The truth of Matthew’s statement left him awestruck, he always read fables as moral lessons, he never thought to analyze the feelings of characters in them.

“If you didn’t care for Gyuvin, his lie wouldn’t have hurt you so deeply, and if he didn’t care for you, he wouldn’t need to lie.”

Gunwook nodded, and felt better after hearing Matthew’s opinion. Stepping away from the situation, Gyuvin most likely hid himself for a good reason.

More importantly, he was no weak prince locked in a tower, whose impatience brought him death. His friend could tell him when he was ready. Gunwook had already seen first hand how much Gyuvin had done to keep him safe.

It dawned on him that perhaps a horrible truth awaited him at the center of all this mystery. Yet, the only emotion that sparked in his chest was excitement—Gunwook did not fear the unknown, no darkness scared him more the loneliness he would suffer without Gyuvin.

The puzzle in his mind was almost complete, but not quite.

Gunwook never did have a dream explaining why Ricky had apologized to him, but based on the memories he saw, maybe it had something to do with Gyuvin too.

So lost in his thoughts, he forgot to give Matthew a response, the faerie had given him some semblance of peace, he wanted to offer something in return as well.

“If I was your friend or captive, I’d forgive you.” Gunwook smiled widely, as it no longer stung him to do so.

Matthew beamed down at him as well.

“And if I was your friend, I’d hope you understand me, so I wouldn’t lose you.”

They watched each other wordlessly, a heavy weight lifted from both of them.

“I also promise not to lock you up.”

Matthew chuckled, then patted his chest.

“Your handsome face is as good as new too.” The faerie winked.

Gunwook frowned, he’d grown quite comfortable on Matthew’s lap, but he couldn’t lay here forever. He slowly sat up, running a hand along his face, and felt no pain.

“Thanks—for everything.”

Gunwook felt his body and soul were lighter—wait did he say handsome?

Matthew was talking again, and it was certainly important to listen. Unfortunately, he was also a beautiful creature, so Gunwook didn’t hear a word. He closed all other senses but his eyes to take in the faerie before him.

Was he being hit on? Has he ever been hit on?

There was a girl who kept tucking her hair behind her ear when she spoke to him. He asked her if she had trouble hearing, and she ran away embarrassed when he tried to use sign language.

Gyuvin told him later that she was in fact, hitting on him.

Matthew was leaning closer, too close. Was he flirting with Gunwook? He didn’t know how faeries courted each other, it was never in any books.

Gyuvin was very touchy as well, perhaps faeries were just more intimate as a whole. Gunwook thought about Ricky, who looked terrified at the threat of his tears. He was definitely not interested in a hug.

Gunwook’s mind raced a mile a minute. He did not know the answers, and there was nothing he hated more.

As he spiraled, Matthew continued to speak, unaware of the chaos unfolding in Gunwook’s mind.

“Have you ever felt that before?” Matthew questioned, eyes searching Gunwook’s.

“Yes—yes, I have.” He spoke thoughtlessly, realizing too late he was responding to the fake confession he made up in his head.

“I see, how interesting.” Matthew nodded to himself as he looked out at the pond.

They were silent again and Gunwook noticed how eerily quiet it was. When he first arrived at the pond, the animals were buzzing with chatter and noise. But now it’s like they’d all been silenced, only the rustle of the reeds in the summer wind could be heard.

A frog hopped next to Matthew and croaked loudly. Matthew broke from his thoughts and excitedly tapped Gunwook’s shoulder.

“Oh Gunwook, this is Peter. He’s in charge of the pond here. He helped me ask everyone to be quiet while you slept.”

The frog puffed its chest up at Matthew.

“Right, of course— yes. One moment please.”

A low whistle cut through the air, and a bird with white worms in its mouth landed on Matthew’s shoulder. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and the bird set the worms on it. Matthew dropped some of the long white glowing things before the frog, and it greedily ate them.

Gunwook stared at the fat amphibian puzzled, it didn’t look very regal, but it was a strange neon hue of green.

“Matthew, he made the pond silent for like three worms? Kinda seems like a bad deal.”

A raccoon tapped Matthew’s leg and the faerie reached over to pet it.

“They aren’t worms. They’re what we call bad magic, or extra magic. Areas on the borders have cleaners like Peter who redistribute and regulate excess magic that leaks into the human world.”

Matthew fed the frog another worm, and the pond started to come alive with sounds again.

Gunwook was intrigued.

“So they’re like janitors?”

“Do jann-i-nate-ora clean up messes?” Matthew’s face twisted in confusion trying to pronounce the foreign word.

“Yeah, it’s like their only job.”

“Then yes, I suppose so.” A turtle sauntered up the dock, and planted itself next to the frog.

Matthew gave some worms to the newcomer.

“You’ll find many cleaners like Peter along any border town.” The frog puffed up its chest with pride and croaked. “Yes Peter, I’ll tell him.”

Some dragonflies and squirrels joined them on the dock as well.

“Cleaners are normally overseen by frogs, since they can live in water or on land.”

Gunwook was staring hard at the glowing worm-like creatures, as the cogs turned in his head. Matthew read the curiosity sparkling in Gunwook’s eyes, and continued to speak.

“All magic needs balance. Too much of anything will make you sick.”

Gunwook tried not to be distracted by the growing crowd and leaned closer to Matthew— Interested in any new information that came straight from the source.

“What do cleaners look like on your side?”

Matthew pressed into Gunwook’s side as well, making room for some rabbits that arrived, snuggling beside the faerie.

“I’m not really sure. My home in the winter realm isn’t near the border, so I haven’t seen too many.”

He patted the bird that seemed content to perch on his shoulder.

“Plus magic’s been stable in our land, so there hasn’t been the need for any.”

Gunwook filed the information away, hoping to learn more later. It was getting harder to ignore the animals, since a Luna moth currently sat on Matthew’s head like a fascinator.

He was going to make a comment, but Matthew was apparently curious about the human world too.

“Are your Jan-e-tors also frogs? Where do they live?”

Gunwook smiled, shaking his head, then did his best to explain what a janitor is. He tried again to inquire about the forest ecosystem gathered around Matthew, but Peter’s croak interrupted him this time.

The frog let out a barrage of angry and distressed chirps.

“Aw, Poor Peter here says— there ain’t much magic to clean as of late.” Matthew repeated, trying to mimic a deep baritone voice.

Gunwook found this adorable, but also realized he had many more questions he wanted to ask, and he wasn’t sure where to start. He opted to begin with the simplest one.

“Matthew, where did Ricky go?”

The faerie tossed a worm towards the pond, and fish jumped up to catch it.

“He went back to check on Gyuvin. Ricky restored some of his memories too.” Matthew tapped his temple.

“Taerae told me your friend got up in a panic looking for him.”

Gunwook understood, as he also woke up with more questions than answers. Even now, his mind reeled trying to untangle all the information he learned.

The loud growling of his stomach cut through his thoughts.

Matthew lightly shoved his shoulder, and Gunwook had to grip the dock to keep from falling over.

The faerie turned, and dismissed the crowd of animals gathered around them.

“Taerae said they found food, I’ll walk you back.”

A playful glint shone in his eyes before he spoke again.

“A weak little princess like you shouldn’t wander in the woods at night.”

He frowned and Matthew giggled, rubbing out the frown lines between Gunwook’s eyebrows with his finger.

He pushed Matthew’s shoulder back, and smirked looking at the faerie’s much smaller frame.

“I think I could at least take you.”

Matthew made an over dramatic offended expression, before laughing even louder. Gunwook really liked the sound, so he took the time to mindlessly stare at the faerie.

Matthew moved to shove his shoulder again, but Gunwook wasn’t prepared for the force, and flew off the doc.

“Oh, Gunwookie, you do make the funniest jokes—Gunwook?”

Matthew scrambled to the edge of the dock, searching the water.

Below the surface, embers of a memory flashed from his subconscious—images of white snow, cracked gold, and the Tome of Unknowns.

Gunwook felt something grip his shoulders, and he was pulled to the surface.

Head breaching the water, he coughed up the excess liquid. Matthew was squeezing his shoulders, while examining him.

“Are you okay? Did you break anything?” Matthew began cursing at himself in a hushed tone, “Stupid fecking muscle brain, humans are like glass you can’t just throw them around.”

Gunwook waved a hand in his face while treading.

“I’m really okay Matthew, see.” He went under the water and burst up again for emphasis, splashing water all over the faerie.

Matthew watched with a fake pout, while a lily pad slipped from his head. Gunwook was holding back laughter trying to apologize, reaching a hand out.

Matthew’s eyes turned mischievous, he ducked under the arm to splash more water at Gunwook. They played in the pond for a while, and the troubles of the day washed away.

The pair crawled out of the pond and dropped onto the grass, soaking wet.

Lying under the celestial canopy, Matthew asked Gunwook about the human world and animals they saw around the pond. Gunwook had never been so happy he was getting a degree in natural science.

Matthew in turn, pointed to constellations and explained what they meant in the faerie realm. Time slipped away as they both spoke, and with every word Gunwook liked being with Matthew even more.

“You know Gunwook, I think we could be very good friends if only…” Matthew’s sentence died, and he mindlessly rubbed his neck.

They were silent again.

Gunwook wanted to be his friend, he was disappointed Matthew didn’t seem to think it was possible—was it because he’s a human?

He wondered why Gyuvin could be his friend, but Matthew could not.

Matthew pushed off the grass, and stood over him, offering a hand to stand. Gunwook caught sight of the wet low cut shirt, clinging to a surprisingly defined chest, and realized he did not want to be Matthew’s friend.

He looked away, blushing as he stood up. He didn’t know when he became such a pervert.

Matthew stepped closer to him and grinned, placing a hand on his chest.

“Close your eyes,” he purred.

Gunwook was about to ask what he was doing, when a strong gust of wind crashed down on him. He opened his eyes and felt dry, he looked down at himself and touched his hair—not a drop of water was left.

Matthew stepped back smirking, “cool, right?”

Whispering, he waved a hand over himself, and a breeze puffed up all his clothes, before they settled back onto him dry.

“It’s actually a spell to clear large amounts of snow, but I’ve found it works for this too.”

Gunwook’s stomach growled again, and he could no longer deny his hunger.

Matthew ran back to the dock to retrieve his cloak, suggesting they should go back before Gunwook passed out again.

Something shiny by the water’s edge caught his eye. Bending down, Gunwook picked up a strange rock with a perfect hole in the center—a hag stone, he recognized. There was a blue pattern scratched onto its surface, but he couldn’t see it properly under the moonlight. Matthew called to him, and waved over towards the trees.

Shoving the stone in his pocket, He took one last look at the pond smiling—it was his new favourite spot in the whole forest.

As they walked away, eyes blanketed beneath a mossy cloak of shells peaked above the surface, watching them leave.

˚ ✦ . . ˚　. . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆. ࿐࿔. ˚ * ✦ . . ✦　˚ ˚　.˚ ✦ . . ˚　. 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

The whole walk home Gunwook thought about his dreams. He couldn’t fully put together a story yet, but he knew it was connected to the faeries he met.

Matthew had helped him with his problem, and he wanted to do the same.

There was clearly some history between Taerae and Ricky, and Gunwook guessed it was more complicated than he knew.

Still, he wanted to help Ricky. It seems the elf grew up lonely, like Gunwook, but for some reason his friends had all been taken away.

Determined to aid a kindred spirit, he just needed a way to naturally bring up Ricky.

A line of fireflies stretched before them, and he was trailing behind Matthew on a thin path.

“Gunwookie, your emotions are spiking, what’s wrong?” Matthew pressed, before Gunwook even opened his mouth.

Making a mental note to ask about that later, he focused on fixing this problem first.

“I wanted to talk to you about Ricky. He’s not as bad as you think.”

Matthew paused, but didn’t turn around. The fire flies broke their chain and circled the faerie.

“You’re trying to tell me that the dark elf who cursed my friend, and stole your memories, is to be trusted?”

Gunwook kicked at some dirt on the floor, he should’ve spoken more eloquently.

“Yes, I mean. I think he had his reasons.”

Matthew was still silent, and the flies buzzed erratically.

Gunwook tried to make a more convincing argument.

“You said betrayal is rooted in love, and that friends should understand each other. Shouldn’t Taerae and you give him a chance to explain? I’m sure there’s more to Ricky than we see.”

Matthew sighed and turned to face him.

“I know.”

Gunwook was stunned into silence. The fire flies bobbed calmly again, reforming a line.

“I have a sort of sense for living things, like what lies at their core. Sometimes beings feel icky like a sickness. These are normally mean or tainted souls.”

Matthew’s eyes roamed over Gunwook. “And some beings feel nice, like the sun rays after a long winter.”

He turned and kept walking, Gunwook silently walked behind him.

“I’ve never felt any bad energy directed towards Taerae from him.”

Gunwook started to recognize the path they were on and knew they were nearing his home.

“So if you know his intentions, are you going to give him a chance?”

Matthew ran a hand through his hair, huffing out a sigh.

“I’m not sure. Whether he meant it or not, Taerae has suffered due to the spell he cast.”

The orange light of a campfire was shining in the front yard as they approached.

“But either way, it’s not my choice to forgive him. He’s never done anything to me.”

˗ˏˋ 𓅰𓅭𓅰ˎˊ˗

They entered the yard through the front gate. Gyuvin was hanging off of Ricky, trying to shove a wiener on a stick in his mouth, Eumppappa rested at their feet. Taerae sat near them eating from a jar of nuts.

Gyuvin caught sight of them and shot up, but remained frozen in place across the yard.

They were all silent. Nobody moved, and all eyes landed on the human. Gunwook wasn’t prepared for all the emotions he felt bubble to the surface again, Gyuvin’s antlers and pointed ears were still showing.

Matthew placed a hand on his bicep, and nodded at him in encouragement.

His emotions steadied, and he rushed towards Gyuvin. The two collided, holding each other tight.

“Geonwookie I’m so sorry, I just.”

Gunwook squeezed his friend harder, “I know Gyuvin, it’s alright. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

They parted and Gyuvin beamed at him, pressing a stick with an uncooked hot dog into his chest.

“Well I’m sure you’re hungry, some hot dogs survived in the freezer.”

He ran over to Matthew’s bag and produced a brown box.

“There’s also these lovely treats Matthew brought.” He stuffed one in his mouth and reached for another.

“You tall demon, release my puffs at once!” Matthew shrieked and rushed over, trying to tackle Gyuvin, but his smaller stature put him at a disadvantage.

Matthew jumped and pawed at Gyuvin, while he tried to retrieve his food.

Gunwook sat next to Ricky and began cooking his hot dog. Ricky peered at Gunwook, examining him for injury.

“Are you feeling alright? Did some memories return?” Gunwook nodded, rotating his hot dog.

Taerae quacked, as he struggled to eat the nuts from a glass jar.

Ricky raised a hand, the nuts floated out of the bowl and hung before Taerae’s face. The duck turned his head away from the food.

“You can’t hate me on an empty stomach, not eating only hurts yourself.”

The duck turned back to floating nuts and slowly ate a few. Satisfied, Ricky trudged off towards a pile of their things. Left alone with Taerae, Gunwook turned to the duck.

“Hey, you wanna make a deal?”

Taerae paused and eyed him with suspicion, then quacked flatly.

“I’ll let you keep the book, if you promise to give Ricky a chance to explain himself.” Gunwook rotated his hot dog, revealing one slightly burnt side.

“But I think you should do it because you know there’s two sides to everything, and you used to be friends.”

The last part was a guess, but Gunwook was working on a theory using the dreams he saw so far.

The duck waddled over to Gunwook and stared at him with curiosity. As they gazed at each other Gunwook felt a strange connection to the bird—something in him recognized something in Taerae.

Ricky returned wearing Gyuvin’s welding gloves, and holding their iron frying pan. He set the pan down before Gunwook and three eggs sat inside it.

“Cook them how you like.” Ricky said flatly, throwing off Gyuvin’s gloves and pulling some strawberries from his pocket.

Taerae returned to eating his nuts, and Gunwook began to cook his eggs.

Hair messy and clothes disheveled, Matthew and Gyuvin re-entered their circle.

Gyuvin flopped onto the elf again, “Rik, that little dwarf bit me! Look at my hair, am I bald anywhere?”

He glared at Matthew who triumphantly held a crumpled box of maple puffs.

“I’m sure he pulled a chunk out.” Gyuvin mumbled, dropping his chin on Ricky’s shoulder.

Matthew plopped next to Gunwook and grabbed his own hot dog stick. He discreetly slid the box closer to Gunwook and winked. Gunwook ate one and was immediately transported to heaven. It was like a cinnamon roll, doughnut and pancake all rolled into one. Gyuvin tried to complain about the favouritism, but Ricky shoved a strawberry into his mouth.

Gunwook smiled at the tiny group and the tentative peace they all found. Yes, his house was destroyed, and he was having creepy dreams, but he also right— faeries existed. His life had become noisy and chaotic, but it had never been more fun. He couldn’t help but feel a fondness for the strange beings that had crashed into his life.

They all belonged together in his opinion. A feeling deep in his bones knew it, and he made a vow to make them see it too.

⋆⭒˚𖠋𖠋𖠋*.⋆

Finally full, the group was ready for bed. Gunwook looked at his burnt home and remembered he did not have a bed. The night air was getting cold, and the fire began to burn lower.

Gyuvin saw him yawning and announced grimly, “I only managed to find this blanket.”

He lifted a small quilt patterned with the phases of the moon, and a diamond with a chestnut tree in the middle. It was a nice blanket, but it was clearly made for a toddler, and more importantly, would not cover anyone but Taerae.

Matthew stood up stretching, “don’t worry guys, I brought my tent.”

They all watched Matthew rifle through his bag and pull out a palm sized blue box. He walked around their yard, and found the flattest open area near the front gate.

He placed the box in the grass then looked around their garden.

“Gyuvin, do you have any rosemary?”

Gyuvin nodded, and motioned towards the side of their home.

Matthew floated over and returned with the plant as well as some twigs. He made a circle around the box, then placed the plant on top. Shooting a quick smile to the group he stepped back, clearing his throat, palms raised to the sky.

Under the moonlight, shelter me from fright. I gift you rosemary tonight.

The box began to unfold and grow, the twigs grew into branches that laced together in a round shape. Then layers of thick foliage puffed out row by row until the whole structure was covered. Matthew turned to them proud, as he presented a giant grass dome with a short chimney that took up a quarter of their yard.

“Well, don’t be shy, there’s room for everyone.”

Gyuvin hopped up excitedly and rushed through the cloth door entrance. Moments later he came back out and hugged Matthew tight, lifting him off the ground.

“Gunwookie, come look, this is so cool!”

Gunwook jogged over and followed Gyuvin inside.

The outside looked like a mound of grass and sticks, but the inside was like a luxury tent. There was a stone fireplace in the center, heating up a pit with steaming water in it. Floating lanterns illuminated the walls lined with dressers, a desk, a wide cabinet with a bunch of drawers, and a low sink next to a table littered with plants.

His eyes caught a short staircase on both sides of the room.

Reaching the top, his shin almost hit the platform where a gigantic bed covered in the comfiest looking pillows and fuzziest blankets was. The bed was calling his name, but so was the hot bath in the pit below.

Matthew entered with Taerae in his arms, the bird at some point had just curled up and gone to sleep.

He set Taerae down on a dog bed looking pillow, and covered him with the small quilt.

They found some clothes that hadn’t been destroyed, and made themselves at home.

Getting ready to wash himself, Gyuvin paused looking at Gunwook.

“Why isn’t Ricky coming in?” Poking his head out, he found the elf loitering by the entrance. “Rik, you should come in now, we’re gonna sleep!”

Gunwook stuck his head out as well, nodding in agreement.

“It’s always best to rest in the company of friends.”

Ricky rolled his eyes, “I’m fine out here, somebody should keep watch.”

Gyuvin whistled and their dog trotted over, planting herself at the entrance.

“There, now Eumppappa is keeping watch, come inside.”

Gunwook nodded rapidly, holding the cloth flap open, and beckoned him in.

To Gunwook’s dismay, the elf remained rooted in place, spine rigid. Gyuvin frowned, and tugged at the silky black fabric of Ricky’s coat.

”C’mon Rik, I don’t wanna drag you.”

Ricky’s tail connected with Gyuvin’s hand and he yelped, clutching it tight to his chest.

“As if you could drag me anywhere.” Ricky challenged, and Gyuvin’s eyes lit up.

He pounced on the elf, gripping him from behind. Gunwook watched amused as Ricky writhed in Gyuvin’s arms, uttering curses he didn’t know existed.

Gyuvin on the other hand was smiling like a maniac, while he held the elf tightly to him. As the pair tussled, Gunwook was reminded of a pet owner trying to wrangle their cat into a bath.

“Get in the tent! I’m tired!” Gyuvin shouted, while Ricky’s tail slapped at his face.

“Okay, I got it. Just let go.” Ricky complained. Gunwook assumed he was trying to yell, but the volume wasn’t much louder than Ricky’s speaking voice.

Gyuvin released him, smoothing out his coat, Ricky strode forward.

Gunwook noticed his pupils shaking and his shoulders tense as the elf entered. Once inside, Ricky stood by the entrance, shifting on his feet.

Some tension drained from his shoulders when he saw how bright and large the tent was.

Matthew walked into view and paused when he saw Ricky, the elf stiffened again. He looked like a caged animal as he tried shuffling towards the exit, but Gyuvin and Gunwook blocked the door.

Matthew sighed motioning behind him, “I think we could all use some rest, yeah?”

⋆⭒˚.⋆

At the sight of the bed, Gunwook was excited all over again. Despite sleeping half the day, he didn’t actually feel rested. His strange visits took a lot out of him, he was hoping to get a full night’s rest.

Matthew had taken the spot at the edge of the rectangular bed, next to Taerae. He thought Ricky might be more comfortable next to Gyuvin, so he crawled in beside Matthew.

Gunwook chuckled, as he heard Gyuvin and Ricky squabbling below them about bath scents. He caught Matthew smiling as well, while the faerie’s outreached palm dimmed the lights.

In the darkening room, a skylight that beautifully framed the full moon caught his weary eyes. He was exhausted, but he sent a silent thank you to the moon for keeping him company through all his perilous nights.

Yet a thought plagued him—how many more nights would he cry under it?

Matthew reached over and patted his head, “you won’t be sad forever, Gunwookie.” The faerie settled deeper into his pillow, sleep weighing down his eyes, “we’ll fix your home tomorrow.” He muttered with a yawn, turning to face Taerae.

“Can you fix it?” Gunwook’s heart soared with happiness.

“Of course, nothing’s ever too broken to be fixed.” Matthew’s voice trailed off, before turning into light snores.

Gyuvin flopped down next to Gunwook with a contented sigh, and reeking of lavender. Ricky eyed them, gingerly sliding in beside Gyuvin. The bed was massive, but it was not intended for four people, collectively they took up the entire mattress. They were a huddled mess of limbs, but nobody uttered a single complaint.

Gunwook fell asleep on his back, next to creatures he could only dream of seeing.

Drifting to sleep, he was no longer intent on escaping his reality.

At first his mind rippled in the darkness behind his eyelids, like another dream was going to start, he prepared for another restless night.

As if sensing his imminent departure, a heavy weight settled on his chest, keeping him in place.

He welcomed the darkness, and he fell into a deep slumber.

For once, Gunwook did not dream.

˚₊‧꒰ა ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Chapter Text

ROSEVALE

The morning sun shone through the sky light and directly onto Gunwook’s face, forcing him awake. This didn’t actually upset him as he finally felt rested—but also, heavy?

A strange pressure sat on his chest, breathing in time with him. The enticing scent of vanilla and sandalwood flooded his senses.

Peeling his eyes open, golden stands filled his view and tickled his chin. Blinking a few more times, he realized the blonde creature was Matthew, who apparently was a cuddler.

The faerie’s chubby cheek was pressed into him, and Gunwook exercised superhuman restraint not poking it.

Another arm was also strewn across Gunwook, it was a gangly limb he knew belonged to Gyuvin.

The two faeries sandwiched him, and were snoring at each other in a quiet harmony. He tried to shift himself lightly, then noticed even his head was warm.

He managed to wiggle an arm free, feeling feathers atop his head. He didn’t recall going to sleep in a hat, which meant Taerae had migrated from his dog pillow to Gunwook’s head.

Ricky was the only one not clinging to him, although that could be due to the Great Wall of Gyuvin that sat between. The elf slept like a corpse on his back, the only indication he wasn’t dead was the bottom of Gyuvin’s shirt pinched between his index finger and thumb.

Everyone was sleeping peacefully on top of him, and it was nice, but Gunwook had to pee.

When he tried to sit up, Matthew stirred, rubbing his cheek into Gunwook and wrapping even tighter around his torso. The sky light was obstructed by a cloud before the rays returned in full force, illuminating Matthew’s hair.

The faerie’s eyes slowly blinked open locking with Gunwook’s. He rested his palms flat in Gunwook’s chest propping his head up slightly, sunlight softening the edges of his form. His sleep laden eyes were no less sparkly then when Gunwook first saw them.

Was Gunwook going to question the existence of the divine every time he awoke to see Matthew?

The faerie smiled at him, and it was warmer than any light that unless ball of gas in the sky could provide.

“Good morning Gunwookie, it’s a little early to be so frazzled. Did you not sleep well?”

Oblivious—the faerie was so cute and kind, but lord help him, that was a stupid question. Did Matthew not notice he was using Gunwook as a body pillow? Was this normal?

Another voice cut through his thoughts.

“Of course he’s stressed, my Geonwookie is used to seeing my handsome face every morning.” Gyuvin made kissy faces at him, and Gunwook grimaced.

A snort came from the edge of bed, and they turned to see Ricky judging him.

“Quibing, nobody wants to see that tangled mop you call hair first thing in the morning.”

Gyuvin looked like he was ready to retort, until he noticed the elf’s hair was still damn near perfect—only a few strands out of place.

They started bickering, but Gunwook noticed Ricky still held tight to a small piece of Gyuvin’s shirt.

Taerae, awakened by the fighting, walked over Gunwook’s forehead before curling up again in his own bed, quacking low to himself.

Unwrapping from him, Matthew reached over to stroke the duck, whispering soothing words.

No longer concerned with waking anyone, Gunwook announced his intention to empty his bladder, and scurried towards the exit.

“Wait, Gunwookie, can you keep an eye out for any lemon balm?” Asked his angel, motioning to the wooden desk by the door. “It looks like that, oval leaves, pointy edges—oh and of course, lemon scented.”

Matthew flopped sideways in the empty space, and spread his arms wide to feel the sunlight. “You can take it with you for reference if you’d like.”

“What do you need it for?” Gunwook inspected the plant, then placed it in his pocket.

Matthew propped himself up on one arm smirking, “if you find it, I’ll show you.”

“It’s to help with insomnia, and attract love in some cases.” Gyuvin managed to blurt out, before a pillow hit him in the face.

“Don’t ruin other people’s surprises, what if it was a courting gift.” Ricky chided, dogging Gyuvin’s vengeful arms.

Matthew’s ears reddened, while his eyes bounced between Gunwook and Ricky.

“I-it’s not! I’m just…you don’t have to.” Matthew was just staring at the mattress now, hands kneading a wool blanket. “Gunwookie likes to know stuff.” Matthew mumbled, as the blush creeped higher up his neck.

“I’ll keep an eye out for it.” Gunwook smiled, ending the conversation and unable to ignore the call of nature.

He walked through the front gate and off into the woods, with a new delusion forming in his mind. Maybe he wasn’t imagining it, maybe Matthew was flirting with him.

Gunwook walked into the forest with renewed purpose, determined to find that plant, and relieve himself. He’d never had such an important task proceed a bathroom break, but there were a lot of things happening for the first time.

↟𖠰˚☀︎ᨒ↟𖠰

Finished with his lavatory side quest, Gunwook journeyed a little deeper in the woods carrying his makeshift bathroom basket. While looking for the plant, he took a moment to appreciate the morning sunbeams shining through the trees, and the calming rustle of the leaves.

Closing his eyes heard the sound of a rushing stream, the earthy smell of dew in the morning hit his nose next, then the mournful cries of a bird.

His face crumpled, following the sound through the trees his path twisted into a landscape he didn’t recognize.

After walking for a while he began to suspect he had passed the same rock five times, and marked it with the lemon balm to be sure the sixth time around.

Apparently, whatever had lured him here didn’t want him to move any further.

The bird-like noise turned into a more human voice asking for help, and the trees to his left parted.

Tired of walking in circles, he moved further into the thick brush, following the voice.

Spongy earth damped his shoes when he stepped into an uneven clearing, encircled by tall trees with exposed roots that covered the rocks surrounding the space.

A three foot mound of dirt and leaves, blanketed with moss, sat alone in the center— wiggling furiously.

“Come closer, precious one.” A scratchy old voice beckoned.

Approaching slowly, Gunwook rounded the lump and found the other side hollow, with a long protrusion lodged in a block of wood.

“Thank the moons, you found me! I was weaving and entrapped my hand. Would you be so kind as to help me lose?”

He couldn’t identify the faerie as it was shrouded in moss and shadows.

However Gunwook wasn’t getting a creepy feeling, so he knelt down to inspect the log.

The faerie’s ‘hand’ was a mass of delicately woven vines and tree roots covering what he assumed was flesh.

Its hand was wedged into a thin crack on an upright log. Based on the fact that the faerie was still trapped here, he most likely couldn’t just yank it out—the crack was the solution. If it could be widened, the hand would slip out.

Surveying the clearing, there wasn’t much to work with. He was surrounded by hefty boulders and the tallest trees he’d ever seen, but nothing to help crack a log open.

He stepped back and knocked over his bathroom basket, two items caught his eye.

Grabbing a glass bottle Matthew told him was soap, and a toothbrush, he crouched over the log.

The bottle’s purple contents was poured into the crack, then he jammed the brush into the space, furiously moving it back and forth.

His plastic toothbrush from the dollar shed did not fail him as the wood groaned, and the crack widened. The faerie’s hand slipped free and it sighed in relief.

“Thank you dear boy! You are a kind spirit indeed.”

No longer hunched over, the faerie’s face came into view. She resembled an old tree, with skin wrinkled like vines and patched with moss.

She smiled, patting his shoulder, “may I keep these treasures?” She was pointing to the bathroom items in his hand. “In case I find myself trapped again.”

Gunwook nodded, unable to speak while his brain caught up to the situation. This was a moss person, a forest guardian spirit, a revered existence — and she wanted his toothbrush.

Gunwook thought about bowing, but she didn’t seem the type to request such a thing. He wanted to ask her some in depth information, but had no way to document their conversation for reference later.

He sighed, eyeing his basket of only washroom supplies. Gunwook made a mental note to walk with a camera or something— the stories he read were leaping off the pages at unprecedented rates.

He went from seeing no faeries, to seeing five in twenty four hours, and he was trying not to be so gobsmacked every time.

It’s one thing to believe something, but it’s another thing to actually see it and know you are in fact not crazy, like many people have suggested.

The moss granny reached beneath her cloak, producing a slim rectangle of interlaced branches and tiny leaves.

She placed the item on his palm, then it sank beneath his skin.

Well, that’s inside me now— he conceded, having no idea what she gave him.

“One good turn deserves another.” She soothed, gently patting his hand, and he felt the weight of a hefty bracelet fall on his wrist.

Glittering on the surface under the sunlight, the golden band had a dragon engraved around it, and tiny rubies surrounding its head.

He looked up to thank her, but the old lady was gone, along with the clearing. He blinked and was lying on the ground, once again surrounded by familiar woods.

He examined his left hand, where the moss spirit had placed the gifts, but it was empty—there was however, a strange weight to it.

“Beware child, a servant of death is seeking you.” The moss lady’s voice echoed in his mind.

He looked around and panicked, but the woods seemed normal. Gunwook waited for another faerie to spring out, but he only heard the granny’s gravelly voice again.

 “Be still, it has not yet arrived.” A strong wind swept through the trees. “Return home, little watcher— your fox is calling.”

Her voice faded with the feeling of her presence.

“Okay? Thanks moss lady.” He shouted out to nowhere and no one in particular.

“Gunwookie, are you here?” Matthew called, flying down the slope after spotting him sitting in the dirt and leaves.

The faerie landed softly on the ground , face painted in worry as he helped Gunwook stand. “Did you fall looking for the lemon balm? Are you hurt?” Matthew asked, reaching from his tippy toes to brush the leaves off Gunwook’s hair.

He dusted some of moss from Gunwook, then held a piece up under the sun for closer examination.

After careful inspection and a quick sniff, Matthew smiled at Gunwook, then the foliage was tossed aside.

It occurred to Gunwook that Matthew might be part bloodhound or something, and that’s how the faerie kept finding him, but he could also just ask.

All of a sudden Matthew grabbed his hand, and every question flew out of Gunwook’s mind, the faerie dragged him away while talking about how they needed to buy more food.

Halfway back home, Matthew paused before a smooth barked tree streaked with moss. He pulled a piece of chalk from the pouch strapped to his ankle, and drew two vertical lines joined by an ‘x’.

He told Gunwook to place his hand in the center of the drawing, he hesitated, but complied after Matthew reassured him with a signature smile.

The faerie was much more persuasive than he seemed, but Gunwook wasn’t sure what that smile couldn’t achieve.

Positioning his hand on top, Matthew whispered low, and an icy chill covered Gunwook’s hand. Something pricked his palm and he flinched, but Matthew held his hand in place.

Their hands had a faint glow and Gunwook felt a force flow into him and flow back out. Warmth returning to his palm, Matthew pulled their hands back, leaving a small red dot in the middle. Matthew pressed a soft kiss to his palm and the small scrape vanished.

The bark slowly drank the lines of chalk along with his blood, then the moss shifted to cover the space.

“If you are ever lost, look for that symbol to guide you back.” Matthew held tightly to his hand again, although the faerie’s smaller palm barely covered half of Gunwook’s.

Gunwook gazed at the spot where his blood once was, “Is that like, a protection rune? Or a tracking spell? Are trees carnivorous?”

“It’s a compass. It’ll point you where you need to go.” Matthew grinned brightly, like he didn’t just feed Gunwook’s blood to a tree.

“Wherever you find yourself.” he added, as if that explained everything.

Gunwook’s expression remained confused, while he tried to work out why the tree needed his blood.

“Did it use to eat people, maybe human sacrifices.” He mused, staring at the canopy above them.

Matthew remained smiling as he towed the inquisitive human along, their connection tingling in his mind.

“If you only stare at a single star, you’ll never see the constellation, Gunwookie.”

Gunwook only half acknowledged Matthew, still contemplating the tree.

“Gosh, you and Taerae are just the same, not everything needs an immediate answer.” He wiggled their connected arms to get the human’s attention. “You don’t grow flowers for their roots.”

“Well technically, you can only eat the roots of certain plants, as the flower is poisonous.” Gunwook challenged, finally tuning into the conversation.

Matthew shot an unimpressed look over his shoulder, “Gunwookie.”

“I know, I get what you’re saying.” He surrendered, “I’m just trying to wrap my head around all this.”

Gunwook was suddenly self conscious, did he ask too much? He hoped Matthew wasn’t getting sick of him already.

“You can ask me any question, but you need to ask the right ones. Otherwise you’ll just think yourself in circles.” Matthew paused to pick a plant from the ground, “Magic is a wild and unpredictable force. Sometimes, you just have to let it flow, and come to you.”

He stuck a four leaf clover behind Gunwook’s ear, before turning back with a satisfied look. Gunwook rolled the advice around in his mind.

“I think I understand. Insightful questions when needed. Ride the wave—be a chill dude.”

Gunwook could do that, he wanted to do it, but there was an insistent nagging in his mind that he should be doing something else.

The two fell silent as Matthew held his arm like a dog leash, walking him home.

“But Matthew, why blood?” He whined, receiving only a chuckle in response.

𖦹 ࣪.𓋼𓍊𖤣𖥧𖡼𖥧𖤣𓍊𓋼. ࣪𖦹˚₊‧

They arrived back in the front yard far too quickly for Gunwook’s liking.

Matthew dropped his hand when they passed through the gate, and Gunwook immediately felt like he lost something.

Ricky was sitting with Eumppappa in his lap, and an ungodly amount of strawberries in a basket next to him.

Gyuvin was right beside the elf, diligently cooking eggs and animatedly telling a story. Taerae waddled up to them and quacked, hopping at Matthew’s feet.

“I told you he wasn’t dead, you owe me a crystal fish.” Matthew whispered in a smug tone.

Gyuvin spotted them and waved, “Mashu, where’d you find him?” He pointed to Gunwook’s disheveled appearance, “Did ya have to fight off a piss eating demon?”

Matthew and Ricky made disgusted faces and Gunwook shifted awkwardly from behind the faerie.

He couldn’t tell if they were disgusted because that could happen, or if Gyuvin had just made a poor joke.

Gunwook leaned down over Matthew’s shoulder to whisper, ”Are those real? Is that a thing?”

Matthew reached back to give his hand a quick squeeze.

“No baby, they aren’t.” He patted Gunwook’s cheek lightly.

Gunwook dropped his forehead onto Matthew’s shoulder, before stepping back to compose himself.

Cheeks still flaming, Gyuvin caught his expression, and smiled in a way that only meant mischief for the future.

Matthew continued, completely unaware, addressing the other faeries, “Looks like the shrub grandmother caught him.” He pointed backwards at Gunwook, “Must’ve liked him too, since she gave him that much lemon balm.”

Everyone’s eyes landed on Gunwook’s sweater pocket, where the plants spilled out.

“Ugh, not her, she used to bother me when I gardened. Gyuvin, yer over watering those. Did you check if humans can eat that? Would it kill you to leave me some bread and a kind note?” He mocked, trying to hunch over like the old woman.

“She’s always nice to me. But then again, I don’t forget her food” Ricky commented, pushing a berry past his lips.

“Okay, so what else is in these woods?” Gunwook was not going to be caught off guard anymore.

He was going to have to find time to refresh his faerie knowledge from the library, hopefully it was still accurate.

The tome always called to him when he asked these questions, and that nagging feeling pushed to the front of his mind.

“It’d be faster to ask what isn’t” Ricky responded, stroking the dog on his lap.

Gunwook sighed at the partial answer.

He already believed all manner of beings were out there, but a much larger question loomed over him— where did Gunwook fit among them?

Gunwook was suddenly anxious, he needed to prove he was useful. Before any more big questions could arise, he needed to sort through what they already knew.

Stealing some eggs, and failing to take a strawberry from Ricky, who hissed at him, it was time for a good old fashioned truth circle.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋

Patiently waiting for everyone to eat, Gunwook piled the fist fulls of lemon balm onto Matthew’s desk. He turned in the tent until he spotted Matthew’s bag.

Pulling out the Tome of Unknowns, he noticed it was a darker hue again. Even when taken outside in the sunlight, the colour was still closer to a deep magenta than the watermelon pink it was yesterday.

Sighing, he strided over to the faeries, who were having a heated discussion near their broken front door.

“You must know something,” Matthew insisted, stepping towards Gyuvin, while Ricky chewed on a strawberry between them.

“What I know, I don’t remember.” Gyuvin shrugged, more frustrated than anyone.

The book hit the grass before the group with a loud thud. “Everyone sit.” Gunwook demanded, drawing the faeries’ attention. “We need to talk.”

“About what, specifically?” Matthew prompted, sitting across from Gunwook.

“Everything, all of it. This thing nearly broke my jaw, and I want to know why.”

The faerie’s all shared a sympathetic look, but it was Ricky who spoke, “Gunwook we’re not entirely sure why it’s latched onto you either.”

The elf looked like he wanted to add more, but stopped himself.

“The book seems to be a sentient thing. Taerae and I only recently found it, but he can feel it.” Matthew added, eyeing the bird in his lap. “We are hoping there’s a way to fix him.”

“I’ve been trying to find it for the same reason.” Ricky admitted sheepishly.

The duck watched the elf with much less disdain than usual.

Gunwook smiled, this was good, they were getting somewhere.

He stared down at the book and spoke.

“Show me a faerie trap.”

The cover flung open, and the pages flipped to a different trap than before. Matthew’s eyes bugged as he stared at Gunwook and the book.

“Impossible.” he whispered, then frowned at Gyuvin, “you never told me he could do that.”

Matthew’s eyes returned to Gunwook again, “will it show you anything else?”

Gunwook shook his head, but tried anyway, “where in the forest is the shrub grandmother?”

Taerae ran to Gunwook’s side for a front row seat.

The pages flipped again, and a map flashed on and off the page with a figure moving along its surface.

The tome rumbled, lifting from the ground slightly, before dropping back down blank.

“Where’s the nearest troll bridge?” Matthew tried, the book slowly turned one page, but revealed nothing.

The faerie and duck exchanged worried looks.

“What is it?” Gunwook looked around the circle.

“Have you ever seen images of places you’d never been, or heard a voice whispering to you?”

Gunwook nodded, then Matthew shot another displeased look at Gyuvin, before speaking again.

“In theory, the Tome of Unknowns is a dangerous object without a keeper. It’s full of forbidden knowledge anyone can access. Up until recently it was considered missing, and without an owner. From what I read about seers, If you saw the book, you were going to be its next keeper.”

He looked at the bird standing next to Gunwook. “Which Taerae did. We assumed he just needed to connect with it, which we thought he did after you left for the pond.”

His eyes landed on Gunwook and the question hung in the air.

“So why is it still listening to me?”

Taerae stepped directly in front of Gunwook, and honked at the book. Pages turned quickly, then a drawing of a leafless willow tree spread along the paper, then with a shutter the image vanished.

Gunwook grabbed Taerae to move him out of the way, and felt a jolt in his neck.

As soon as he touched the bird, the ink returned to the pages, and the grotesque tree covered the paper once again.

They waited in silence, but the image remained with no signs of disappearing.

Gunwook put the duck down, and the black ink faded to a shade lighter than the page.

He picked Taerae up again, and the picture returned.

Gunwook asked a series of questions, and every time the book responded in full, as long as he remained touching the duck.

Matthew crawled over to Gunwook and started tugging on his ears.

“Matthew?” Gunwook tried to speak, but the faerie was lifting his arm, intent on finding something.

Unsatisfied, Matthew started poking and prodding all around Gunwook’s body.

Climbing in between his crossed legs, Matthew gazed deep into Gunwook’s eyes. It would’ve been a very intimate position, if Matthew wasn’t examining him like a botched science experiment.

About to have fingers shoved in his mouth, Gunwook grabbed the faerie’s wrist.

“Matthew, what are you doing?”

“You can’t be human.” He declared, wings flapping anxiously.

“Humans are not keepers. It was some of the only new information we were able to find.”

“He is Human.” Ricky cut in, “I’ve already checked.” He awkwardly glanced at Gyuvin, who was staring at the book blankly.

Matthew looked down at Taerae, who quacked for an abnormally long time at them.

Gunwook gently pried Matthew off of him, and the faerie sat beside him, eyes burning a hole in the side of his face.

The quacks became more insistent.

“I know this is a violation.” Matthew hissed, finally looking away from Gunwook.

The faerie glanced at the circle remembering he was not alone, and continued to a silent conversation with the bird.

“Don’t worry Gunwookie, I’m sure this was all a mistake. Everything will be fine once we fix Taerae. If he can become a normal forest faerie again, I bet the book will leave you alone.”

Matthew’s tone was anything but convincing. They were clearly all in unknown territory.

“I don’t like it.” Gyuvin sneered, reaching to grab the book.

Gunwook slammed the tome shut and wrapped his hands around it.

Gyuvin caught the other end before Gunwook could fully pull it back.

They both maintained a firm hold, the tension in their arms kept it suspended between them.

“Gunwook.” Gyuvin warned, trying to tug it closer.

Gunwook did not back down, and the two stood, “no, Gyuvin! We need to know what’s going on.”

A muscle feathered in Gyuvin’s jaw as he tried again to pull the book away.

“I agree, they can figure that out.” He tilted his head towards the faeries.

“You need to graduate and live a normal human life. This book is trouble, we don’t need trouble.”

“Our house burnt down, and there’s a cursed duck in our yard, there is no normal to return to.”

Ricky placed a hand on Gyuvin’s wrist, “we need Gunwook to read the book, you can’t keep him from this.”

Gyuvin held fast as Ricky tried to pry his hands off, and now the three of them were fighting for possession of the tome.

Matthew stepped behind Gunwook, wrapping around his middle.

“Ricky is right, we need him.”

Taerae quacked as well, pulling on Gunwook’s pants in an attempt to help.

“None of you understand, it’s not safe!” Gyuvin argued through clenched teeth, clamping down hard enough for the crystals to break skin—drawing the book towards him.

Gunwook stumbled forward, but Matthew held him steady. Gunwook pressed his hands tighter around the tome as well.

“Let go before you both rip your hands open.” Ricky chided, trying again to remove the object.

“No!” They both shouted at the same time.

Gunwook and Gyuvin locked eyes then started arguing again, the tome jostling back and forth between them.

There was a loud bang, and an angry head of pink hair with silver wings stormed through their gate.

Only Ricky seemed to hear him approaching over the shouting. The elf tried, with no success, to alert the group.

“Seok Matthew!” A parental sounding voice cut through the noise.

They all froze and turned to their front gate, where a pink haired faerie had entered.

Matthew squeaked, and scrambled to find a hiding place behind something.

The closest object was Gunwook, so he stepped behind the human, gripping his sweater—Taerae ran into the bushes.

Instinctively Gunwook dropped the book and spun to face the threat, his whole body shielding Matthew.

A strange tingle pricked the nape of his neck. Gunwook sighed internally, as he looked closer at the new visitor.

The appearance of another faerie he’d dreamed of was no longer as shocking the fourth time.

The faerie’s blue coat tails floated with the breeze from the ferocity with which he was walking.Grey boots shaking the ground as he marched closer.

“H-Hanbin what are you doing here?” Matthew muttered weakly, peering out from behind Gunwook.

“What am I doing here?! What are you doing here? How could you drug me? I raised you better than that.” Hanbin scolded in disbelief.

Gunwook pieced together from these few statements that this was most likely the friend that gave Matthew the healing salve, and who he also told a very big lie to.

Obviously not a threat, Gunwook considered moving aside to let them work it out like he and Gyuvin did. But given the fact that Hanbin kept using Matthew’s full name, his angel must’ve caused far more trouble than Gyuvin.

The angry faerie about to reach them, paused a few steps back taking in the wrecked home. Hanbin finally acknowledged Gunwook’s presence.

“Young man, is this your home?”

“Yes—sir?” Gunwook responded, caught off guard by the sudden question, but sensing a very authoritative presence.

Hanbin’s eyes landed on the pink book Gyuvin held, then returned to the faerie hidden behind him.

“Seok Matthew, did you and Taerae burn down this human’s home looking for that book?”

“I would never! How could you say that?” Matthew stepped out from behind Gunwook, only to retreat again when Hanbin tried to move around Gunwook.

“Chu, come out here this instant and speak properly.”

“No!”

Gunwook was being treated as a meat shield while the two faeries danced around him.

After seeing Gunwook stumble a few times, Matthew jumped onto his back.

“How did you even get here?” He asked, obviously feeling braver being at a taller height.

“I had that nice officer help me, he’s right here behind me.”

Hanbin turned to find the yard empty.

“He was behind me.” Hanbin muttered, then quickly regained his train of thought. “That’s not important right now. Get down from the human, we need to talk.”

Matthew squeezed tighter around Gunwook, “run” he whispered and Gunwook did his best to dodge Hanbin, while Matthew barked orders.

He heard Gyuvin cheering for them as he and Ricky watched their ridiculous side show, very amused.

They almost made it to the gate, but Hanbin blocked their path again, and Gunwook skittered to a halt, losing his footing on the damp grass.

Matthew grabbed his sweater hoodie, trying to steady them, but the burn holes from Taerae’s fireballs caused the fabric to tear.

As Gunwook managed to regain his balance, he felt the breeze on his neck from where the hood once was.

Matthew was in the middle of an apology when he suddenly dropped from Gunwook’s back, mouth open in silent terror.

Taerae rushed from his hiding place and quacked at Matthew, flapping his wings. Ricky and Gyuvin rushed over to Gunwook’s side.

Gunwook turned to check on Matthew, and found the faerie eyes wide and unblinking. He heard Hanbin’s breath hitch behind him, then the faerie was at his side, staring down at Matthew.

“This is why I came to find you.”

Hanbin unbuttoned his doublet until his collar bone was exposed.

They all fell silent.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꫂ ၴႅၴ ₊ ⊹

Matthew just saw his worst nightmare not once, but twice in the span of thirty seconds.

A choked noise was all he could manage when he saw a rose encased in a circle of thorns inked onto his best friend’s chest.

The same brand that was only supposed to bind him and Taerae, a symbol of unbreakable oath, a symbol that marked them for death.

He looked over to Gunwook and could barely breathe. The hood was still tightly gripped in Matthew’s hand.

The scene played over and over in his mind like he could make up a new ending— a different reality.

One where he did not rip off this hood and see the rose mark on Gunwook’s neck as well. He had lied and betrayed his friend for nothing.

They were talking to him, and he couldn’t hear anything, there was just a ringing in his ears and Taerae pounding on his mind.

Hanbin knelt before Matthew, eyes dripping with kindness he did not deserve.

Matthew’s eyes were unfocused, he was not in his body and this was not real.

Hanbin stoked his head once, then stood and spoke to the other three people Matthew wanted to call friends. He was having so much fun with them he almost forgot— he might be dead soon.

His blood ran cold when Ricky removed a glove to reveal the brand on the back of his hand. Then Gyuvin took off his jacket, and after a short inspection, they found the brand on his shoulder. It was fine when it was just his life at risk but now, they were all in danger. What should he tell them? They were all staring at Matthew, and he felt the weight of the mark on his neck strangling him—locking his voice in his throat. He could not be responsible for so many lives. Was this his punishment for challenging fate?

Gunwook was shifting in place while he looked at Matthew. Suddenly the human was beside him, wrapping him in a warm embrace.

“It’s okay Matthew, come back to us.” Was the only sound that penetrated through to him.

He began to feel his body again as Gunwook’s weight covered him, anchoring him in place. His heart rate slowed and his throat began to loosen.

Safe, a voice in the back of his mind whispered.

“Chu, what kind of deal did you really make with the council?” Matthew finally heard Hanbin speaking.

“Between your reaction now and how odd you’ve been this past week, I don’t think this is a simple promissory brand.”

There was a heavy silence as they all looked at Matthew, unaware that their lives could be cut short.

Tae, I’m scared. I can’t explain this, what am I supposed to say?

The truth Matthew. As brutal as it may be, we’re all stuck in this together now.

And where would I start? I know, I’ll just open with, I hope you’re not attached to your life cause you won’t have one soon.

Matthew, breathe— and that’s a terrible way to tell someone they’ve unwillingly entered a death bond.

Well what should I say then! This is feckin insane, I didn’t bind us to kill all our friends in the process. I don’t know why is this happening. Did I do this?

I’m not sure, but you have to tell them the truth. And start from the beginning.

Taerae crawled into his lap, trying to cover the parts of Matthew Gunwook’s body missed. Ricky, Gyuvin and Hanbin all sat around him waiting.

Matthew sucked in a deep breath, leaning into the man at his side, Gunwook’s heat soothing him.

Matthew told them all about the meeting with the council, and this time he told the truth.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“I don’t get it, we’re all just connected now?” Gyuvin’s face twisted in confusion.

“Yes.” Matthew shuddered, “our lives are all tied to Taerae now.” He cried, dropping his face into his palms. “This is all my fault.”

“I’m not so sure.” Ricky reasoned, “Gyuvin and Gunwook have been linked for awhile.” He pointed to the pink crystals they both wore.

“You, Taerae and I are all involved in his curse somehow, but what does he have to do with this?” The elf pointed to Hanbin, who was re-buttoning his shirt.

Gunwook nodded in agreement, “That’s right, Hanbin doesn’t fit here at all, he has nothing to do with the book. I think someone thing else is happening, so let’s not assume the worst.”

Matthew was struggling to look up at them. He prepared himself for anger and disappointment, but all he’d been met with was kindness and understanding.

“Either way, we can figure out together.” Gunwook soothed, Matthew tucked beneath his chin.

The faerie slowly started to brighten again as he took in everyone’s words.

“This young man—I apologize, what’s your name?”

“Gunwook.” Gyuvin provided from Hanbin’s side.

“Gunwook is right, cheer up Chu! You don’t have to do this all alone.” Hanbin reached over to squeeze his hand. “And no more lying, okay?”

Matthew nodded, tearing up again. He had no idea what was going on, but he was seeing more clearly.

A strange and complicated magic was at work, but despite everyone insisting it wasn’t his fault, Matthew couldn’t help but disagree.

Maybe he could’ve ignored the curiosity drawing him towards Gunwook, and he never should’ve followed the human into the woods. Matthew had pulled Gunwook’s mind from where it wandered, and barely understood how he’d done it.

The act solidified an already powerful connection and must’ve caused a chain reaction somehow. But it made no sense to Matthew, nothing like this had ever happened because of his powers.

What cosmic force had been so upset he wanted to help the human, was that the problem?

Maybe his first mistake was not listening to his magic.

He had felt Gyuvin’s and Ricky’s souls without laying a hand on them, but he ignored it, too focused on getting the book.

Matthew could feel them all deeply and that was not normal for new connections. He didn’t assume it was due to the fact they all shared a mark, because that’s not something that should be possible.

Connections weren’t supposed to be coming to Matthew, he needed to choose to make them.

Matthew groaned and tucked himself deeper into Gunwook.

He always did his best to listen to the world around him, but lately it felt like the world was speaking a completely different language.

A loud sigh interrupted his thoughts.

“It can’t be that complicated. We just need to fix the duck.” Gyuvin walked over to the other side of their yard, returning with the tome in hand and tossed it on the floor.

“Ask it.” He said begrudgingly. “I’d like to die from old age, not a cursed chicken”

Gunwook unwrapped from Matthew, but didn’t move away. He flipped the tome open, and Taerae moved from Matthew’s lap to Gunwook’s.

Placing a hand on the duck, Gunwook asked the question that held their fate, “How can we return Taerae to his original faerie form?”

The tome glowed brightly as it lifted off the grass and hung in the air before them, spinning slowly.

It landed with a new drawing inked on its pages. Two Trees bordered the page, their branches intertwined at the top forming an arch, the roots at the bottom stretched out but were interrupted by nine black dots next to each other. Eight roses were scattered over the page, six of them coloured in. In the centre of all this was a tiny duck holding a rose in its mouth, surrounded by a thick rectangle of empty page.

“Well that’s not vague at all.” Gyuvin grumbled, shaking his head, “let’s place him in a ring of roses and hold hands, while we sing kumbaya until he changes shape.”

“Could it mean the answer lies in the forests from the summer realm?” Ricky proposed, not even acknowledging Gyuvin. “This type of rose only grows there.”

“Maybe he needs to consume an antidote made from a rose bug?” Hanbin offered, pointing to the centre of the picture.“Their healing properties are quite potent.”

They all continued proposing different interpretations of the picture, but nothing really felt right.

Matthew, I smell death.

What?

I felt eyes before, but now I smell something strange.

Tae, what does that mean? There’s nothing here.

A sultry feminine pop tune rang through the silence. They all turned to Hanbin as the sound originated from his coat pocket.

Hanbin sent an awkward smile to the group before standing and walking a few steps away.

Taerae suddenly hopped off of Gunwook, and began sniffing around the yard.

Matthew no longer heard the duck’s voice as he tugged on their connection. He leaned on to Gunwook’s shoulder and sighed.

The ringing finally cut off when Hanbin pulled a phone from his pocket and held it towards his ear.

“Babe, now is not a …what? Slow down, I can’t understand you.”

Hanbin ran back and shoved his phone in Gunwook’s face, “Tell him your address.”

Gunwook spoke to the soft voice he didn’t recognize, and Hanbin stepped away again.

“Did you get it? Use the stone I gave you. Ten minutes.”

Hanbin walked a little further away, and Ricky’s ears twitched quickly, clearly trying to eavesdrop on the phone call.

“Hey, isn’t that the ringtone for those call girl hot lines?” Gyuvin whispered to Gunwook.

“Gyuv, why do you know what that ringtone sounds like?” Gunwook cringed, covering Matthew’s ears.

Matthew didn’t need to know his friend was a pervert.

“And aren’t those hotlines for creeps who can’t talk to women.” Gunwook tilted his head towards the princely looking faerie. “I don’t think many people are rejecting that face.”

Matthew shifted from his shoulder, trying wiggling his head free.

“Maybe, he glamoured himself to look that good, what if he’s like a woman eating goblin under there.” Gyuvin shrugged “Also, didn’t you hear that voice, it was nice, like really nice.”

Gunwook’s mind stuttered for a response, the voice did have a nice tone.

He’d also never admit to Gyuvin that he had recognized the tune from leaving the TV on during late night study sessions.

“What are you talking about?” Matthew cut in, hair tousled in his efforts to hear their conversation.

They both just smiled awkwardly at him. Gunwook reached over to smooth down the loose strands.

He could’ve sworn he heard Ricky snickering.

Hanbin hung up the phone and returned to the circle. Seeing the quizzical faces he began to speak, but Taerae started quacking below a tree.

Matthew, there’s a handsome man in the tree.

They all rushed over to where the duck was honking and jumping in the air.

Before anyone arrived, Taerae shot several fireballs into the branches, and they heard cursing before a body dropped on the grass.

“Holy shit, Taerae. Did you just kill someone?” Gyuvin laughed, poking the body with a branch that had fallen with the man.

The silver haired being twitched, then rose from the ground, not with his hands, but as if pulled by an invisible string attached to his back—slowly drawing him up.

Unscathed by the blasts, the faerie dusted off the short purple cape pinned to his right shoulder, and adjusted the various belts and straps that were littered throughout his clothes.

Gunwook looked down at his plaid pajama pants and dirty sweater, wondering when he would get to meet a faerie in a presentable outfit.

“Jiwoong! There you are.” Hanbin cheered, “Why were you hiding in the tree?”

“Hanbin, who is this? Taerae said he smelled of death.” Matthew interrupted, shuffling to stand in front of Gunwook.

“I’m a night haunt.” Jiwoong explained flatly, “I touch death all the time.”

“He’s also a friend.” Hanbin smiled, clapping a hand over the faerie’s shoulder.

Jiwoong smiled at the group and nobody commented on the sharper canines that poked out.

His dark eyes found Gunwook and Gyuvin, and he frowned.

Walking past them all, he stood over the book.

“The little birdie did see it.” He whispered, examining the blank pages.

Matthew stepped between Jiwoong and the book.

“Why have you come here?” He was glaring at Jiwoong, trying to intimidate the taller faerie.

“Hanbin asked for my assistance in tracking you.” He fished Matthew’s dagger from his jacket pocket. “This is yours, is it not?” He grinned, displaying sharp canines again.

Matthew snatched the dagger, but remained in front of the tome. Hanbin’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“Chu, don’t be rude, Jiwoong is my friend.”

Matthew eyed the black pearl earring at the tip of Jiwoong’s pointed ear.

“He works for the council. He didn’t come here to help you.”

Matthew could feel the presence, but not the energy of this newcomer.

All he could sense was a turbulent pressure within Jiwoong, and that concerned him— because It always accompanied a liar.

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.

Gunwook’s truth circle had gone horribly wrong. Yes they had uncovered a truth, but it answered no questions.

From his point of view, he was just learning things, and actively trying to understand how they fit into their situation before something else went wrong—and something had definitely gone wrong.

Matthew was trying to body check this ‘Jiwoong’ faerie, who looked like a literal demon, and Hanbin was holding the short faerie back while Gyuvin and Ricky laughed.

Gunwook wanted to sit down and talk, but every time he tried to work something out, it was like fixing a leaking pipe.

They covered one hole and a new one appeared— left unchecked, they were all going to drown.

Gunwook rubbed the back of his neck. He should be more upset about being marked to possibly die, but he never really thought about how he would want to die.

It was a better way to go than being hit by a bus he rationalized. Given his start in life, he was lucky he’d made it to twenty.

For now, he was just happy to be included in their death bond.

Just as he suspected earlier, they all needed to continue forward together, and now, they had to.

Taerae was walking in circles around Jiwoong and finally paused, quacking at his feet.

“I think you will find, I am very trustworthy.” Jiwoong announced, standing far closer to Matthew than Gunwook would like.

“Then prove it.” Matthew demanded, swiping an ineffectual hand at the faerie while Hanbin maintained a hold on him.

Jiwoong sighed, and untied a short leather boot.

Gunwook’s mind returned to the book as the discarded shoe lay near it.

He theorized the roses could be the amount of power or people needed to break the curse, but dismissed the idea since there was only five of them, and he didn’t really have any magic.

Jiwoong removed his sock next, and on the side of his foot was the same rose brand they all shared.

Now, there was six of them, and a lot more magic.

⛦˙♱⋆☠︎︎⋆♱˙⛧ 𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐀪𐀪

Chapter Text

PEDUNCLE COLOSSEUM

Life is a series of notes.

All living things dance in harmony with each other, and it is everyone’s job to keep in tune. If someone struck the wrong chords, the melody became distorted. If somebody played too fast, ignoring the conductor, the whole symphony was ruined—you must always play well.

The curtain opened only moments ago, but anticipation electrified the air.

Expertly drawing his bow over the strings, he heard a child squeal with excitement as she bounced in her seat.

He chuckled internally. People were simple creatures; they all had a tone that resonated best with their spirits.

He winked at an older woman in the front row, then played a series of nostalgic high-pitched chords.

She smiled at him, dabbing a tear from her eye.

He continued to play even better—drinking in the crowd’s exuberance. His ear twitched at the cello player behind him.

She always butchered this part of the song, but she was a human—it was inevitable.

Everyone made mistakes, but not him. He always knew the keys that could penetrate the soul.

He could see all the vitality he required wafting through the music hall’s stone arches.

The man’s slim finger glided over the strings as he executed another flawless concerto. The audience erupted in cheers, rows and rows of them rising to their feet.

There was, of course, a whole orchestra behind him, but they all knew the masses had gathered for him.

The violinist bowed deeply as they threw flowers onto the stage at him, demanding more.

Yet, there would be no encore; he got what he needed.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.

Backstage, he relaxed into a plush chair placed before a bright mirror.

The violinist beheld his rejuvenated reflection and smiled, gently wiping his skin before placing a face mask on.

He closed his eyes and sat back, listening to the distant sound of his colleagues.

The rustle of people changing clothes, the clank of others packing up their instruments, the excited chatter about what they would have for dinner— this, too, was its own melody.

He heard footsteps approaching, a heavy gait that favoured the right leg due to chronic knee pain, a careless tune—his manager.

“Do you have it?” The violinist asked, not even bothering to look up.

“Of course, they gave you a private dressing room because of it.” The older man responded in a muffled voice.

The familiar clank of a cup and plate settled on the table. He sat up and peeled the face mask off, eyes shining. His manager lingered at his side with a gas mask on.

“If you’re going to be so dramatic, go wait in the car.”

The old man rushed out of the door, happy to be dismissed.

The violinist let out a huff, then eyed the table again.

On a silver platter garnished with flowers, was his spiky treasure—a durian.

About to dig into the succulent fruit, there was a sudden sharp pain in his side.

The silverware hit the carpet as he doubled over in pain. Clutching at his side, he rushed to the bathroom.

But, as quickly as it had come, the pain was gone, leaving a new tingling sensation on the violinist.

Shaking hands lifted the crimson-stained shirt to examine the skin beneath.

Something had fallen out of harmony.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹ 𓏲𝄢

ROSEVALE

Gunwook had a lecture once about the importance of co-existence, and it cited a paper on predatory animal interactions.

The study basically said, when you put too many dominant creatures in one place and limit their resources, violent conflict is bound to ensue.

And he was certainly watching wolves fight for the last scrap of meat.

It turns out faeries, apart from being tree-hugging hippies, were also very opinionated.

Their arguing and nitpicking had drained Gunwook, and his eyes were exhausted from being rolled too much.

So, he was lying on the grass, staring up at the tranquil blue sky. He noticed a cloud that looked as soft as a pillow.

He missed his pillow; he missed his bed. Taerae waddled over and nestled beside him, so the image stayed on the tome’s pages.

Shortly after, the grass near him rustled, and the sweet scent of vanilla wafted in the air.

“Gunwookie, don’t give up on them. I think your theory is right.” Matthew smiled, naturally slotting his head on Gunwook’s chest.

“Mmhn.” Gunwook mindlessly responded, and he was almost convinced to try again, but dreaded the new headache that would accompany a second bout of arguing.

He sighed, relaxing under Matthew’s comforting weight. Gunwook was now, at the very least, in a better mood.

The faerie’s presence at his side was starting to feel essential for a good day. He also discovered he liked being hugged by people other than Gyuvin.

While looking for another familiar shape in the sky, his hand, like a magnet, found its opposite pole on Matthew’s shoulder, kneading the tight muscles.

Touching the faerie was also essential for a good day, and it helped him think.

There was apparently very much he did not know about faeries. His interpretation of the image was a simple one, but Gunwook felt good about it.

The overall visual style of the picture reminded him of a video game stat screen.

He specifically pointed to the roses, suggesting they were like a power bar.

Gunwook proposed that since two roses were still empty, they needed more power to fill them in and break the curse.

He also guessed that because he was human, they might need something made from the trees to boost their collective magic.

In short, they either needed more power or more people. It didn’t explain everything, but it felt mostly correct to Gunwook.

The rest of the faeries were not so easily convinced, especially when he tried to explain using a gaming metaphor. They had torn the idea apart, and he understood why.

Being able to use the tome didn’t make him an authority on the faerie world.

In fact, he was only proven right about their existence a few days ago. He couldn’t blame them for shrugging off his idea. What did he really know?

He read stories in the library written by humans, but these were beings that were born from magic, grew up with the mystical, and walked with it every day.

Who was he to insist his ideas and theories held more weight than theirs?

Not to mention, he had just the one theory. It also didn’t help that he couldn’t offer an actual way to break the curse, just the means.

The wheels in his mind were turning faster than ever as he tried to keep up. When they first started the discussion, he wanted to acquire some passive knowledge as they rattled off ideas, but that plan quickly failed.

They were all speaking at a rapid pace, and at times even talked over each other. Gunwook couldn’t ask for them to stop and explain what every other solution they were describing meant.

He’d never been so unprepared for a debate in his life.

So, he remained on the grass, assuring them the book hadn’t whispered any secret meaning to him, leaving them to battle it out.

It seems he was doomed to be an observer in the waking world as well.

“Look at these tree lines, we should take it to the Wood Diviners for a reading,” Hanbin explained, pointing to bark that just looked like random lines to Gunwook.

“What if I ask the shrub grandmother to grow these roses? We could try another protection spell and see if they cancel each other out.” Gyuvin suggested.

“Gyub, you’re ignoring the black circles again. He needs to go to the gate of nine moons and feast on the summer rose.” Ricky was fervent, more desperate than anyone to decipher the picture.

“It would behoove you all to remember this empty rectangle on the page. The little birdie clearly needs to perform the ritual of rejuvenation in the hollow room.” Jiwoong added.

“That’s ridiculous. If we’re going to suggest a ritual, why not a balancing one?”

Ricky pointed to the inked roses, “Six in numerology means adjustment.” His fingers slid over to the un-inked flowers, “Two means balance or crossroads.” Circling to the center of the page, he continued, “and one, for new beginnings.” He finished, tapping on the image of a duck with a rose in its beak.

Gyuvin trudged over and flopped down across from Gunwook, so that the tops of their heads faced each other.

“I’m tapping out. My head hurts and I’m gettin’ hungry.”

He lifted a long arm, pointing at the sky, “That cloud looks like a chicken nugget.”

“What’s a chicken nugget?” Matthew inquired, kicking his feet behind his head.

“Dude, the faerie home world sucks,” Gyuvin concluded, while Gunwook kindly explained.

“I sometimes can’t eat meat when I remember where it came from. It’s hard to eat things you can talk to.” Matthew admitted, playing with Gunwook’s sweater strings.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think nuggets are real meat,” Gunwook stated, somehow finding his hand stroking Matthew’s head.

“Like the hot weenies from yesterday,” Matthew said excitedly, confident he correctly recalled the food’s name.

“Hot dogs?” Gyuvin corrected, “Yeah, those aren’t real meat either.” He rolled over, sighing. “Now I want a hot dog.”

Hurried footsteps disrupted their peace, and a frustrated tail swished into view.

“Qubing! Tell them the constellations would never be in the right position for a Star Seed ceremony in the summer. They won’t listen to me.” Ricky complained, squatting over the tall faerie, poking his shoulder.

“Chu, tell your friend that Thorn Isle uses outdated celestial maps.” Hanbin objected, and Jiwoong nodded at his side.

“They are true to the moon cycle!” Ricky bit back, tail slapping the ground.

“I think Gunwookie is right.” Matthew grinned, leaning into the large palm that stroked his head. Hanbin squinted at them and strode over.

“Chu, you cannot be tempted by this human’s wily seductions. We are noble faeries. We do the enchanting, not become enchanted.”

He eyed Gunwook warily, “You’ve always been distracted by a good figure. Think clearly here, our lives depend on it.”

Matthew frowned and pushed off Gunwook.

“I am thinking clearly! Gunwook is connected to the Tome of Unknowns just like Taerae. Why can’t he be right?” He pointed an accusing finger at the group, “The book isn’t talking to all of you.”

He stood over Gunwook, puffing out his chest. “It’s talking to Taerae and Gunwook.”

The duck quacked from the grass.

“And Taerae likes Gunwookie’s idea best.”

Everyone’s eyes bore into Gunwook as he sat up, crossing his legs— time for round two.

Ricky set the book down, and they were all once again in a circle around it, unsure of how to proceed.

Gunwook sighed. Since Matthew had somehow given him the floor to speak again, he might as well try something.

“Maybe we need to ask differently?”

He held Taerae in his lap, but no matter how many ways they asked for a solution to fix the bird, the same image kept appearing.

“Ricky, are you sure you cast a protection spell?” Gyuvin inquired, racking his brain for something. “What was it called?”

The elf frowned, “I’m not sure.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “They took it from me.” Ricky’s hands clutched at his jacket, and he tensed as if experiencing a phantom pain.

“Can’t you unblock your mind? Like you did for me and Gyuvin?” Gunwook tried to ask delicately, noticing the discomfort.

“It was ripped from you,” Jiwoong observed, not explaining how he knew. “If the council had it pulled out, it cannot be recovered.”

Ricky nodded, “But I’m sure it was a protection spell.”

“Maybe it didn’t work because your nature is dark,” Matthew offered. “I’m not saying you had evil intentions, but due to the caster of the spell, it went wrong.”

“Nonsense, Ricky cast some of the protection spells on the house!” Gyuvin argued.

They all turned to look at the charred wreckage of stone and wood, barely standing up.

“That was technically Gyuvin’s fault,” Gunwook announced to the group.

Taerae being a duck was probably the biggest mystery to of all this.

He understood Matthew was proposing this idea, since they didn’t have a specific spell to undo, but it felt like they were skipping ahead again.

Mysteries should be solved in order. Gunwook thought understanding the picture should be their first step, not solving the duck puzzle.

He was ready to voice that opinion, but the conversation had continued without his notice.

“Are you asking me how evil I felt when I cast the spell?” Ricky’s face twisted in confusion.

“No-I mean, kinda. Did you feel any extra bad energy swirling around inside that day?” Matthew asked, fiddling with Gunwook’s fingers.

“Chu is right, a shift in your emotions could’ve affected the spell,” Hanbin added. “Especially for those of a darker nature.” The faerie was trying, and failing not to sound accusatory.

There was a sudden tension in the air.

“Why don’t you ask if he ate any small children on the way as well?” Gyuvin mocked, shifting a little bit in front of the elf.

“Gyuvin, we’re just trying to consider every possibility, not assigning blame.” Matthew tried to explain, looking at the elf for help.

“It’s fine.” Ricky exhaled, patting Gyuvin’s shoulder. “They’re not saying anything untrue.”

“It’s not fine! I wanna know what happened too, but my Rik doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.” Gyuvin huffed, motioning to the house. “He didn’t do that.” Gyuvin picked up the duck next, “and he didn’t mess this up.”

“Then why is Taerae stuck like that?” Hanbin asked, eyes soft with sympathy.

They were all quiet again.

Gunwook was deep inside his mind, but he agreed with Gyuvin. He remembered his dreams. The young elf he saw had been eager to protect his friend, desperate even.

Then he recalled what Ricky had said, “The winter solstice is tomorrow, I’ll be at my strongest.” Something clicked. He read once that a faerie’s power exponentially increased on the day they were born.

His gaze landed on the drawing again, and he recalled watching Gyuvin hold Ricky’s hand, using him like a battery booster.

“Ricky, you were born during the winter solstice, right?

“Yeah? When did you-”

“And how much power would you say you can generate on that day?”

“The equivalent of a few faeries, why?”

“What about on a normal day?”

“I’ve never measured exactly, but I’d guess about two faeries worth at least.”

Ricky gave up on getting a response, seeing Gunwook’s eyes sparkling with some feral emotion.

The same light bulb seemed to go off in Hanbin’s head as he listened.

“If we believe your interpretation is correct.” Hanbin looked at their group, “How much more magic do you suggest we need?”

“The solstice won’t come before the deal expires, the boy is suggesting we try and mimic the same amount of magic—exactly.” Jiwoong deduced, also catching on.

Gunwook stared at the six coloured roses. He needed a way to verify how much power each flower was indicating. It could be one per person, but he didn’t really have any magic; someone else could be compensating.

“Taerae thinks it’s one rose per person,” Matthew announced, petting the bird.

“Then we’d be missing two people.” Ricky’s tail swished while he eyed the pink-haired faerie next to him.

“Shit.” Hanbin blurted out, shocking the group. The faerie didn’t look like he was supposed to know a single swear word. “It’s just a feeling, but I might know who else is marked.”

“Who?” They all asked in unison.

As if on cue, the air thickened and buzzed, disrupted by a silent force. A thin pink line cut the air just outside their front gate. Grey clouds of mist rolled from the widening crack of space as a shadow emerged, outlined in the fog.

An expensive-looking shoe stepped out, followed by an even more expensive-looking person—despite the simple plaid button up and slacks.

The man spotted someone and strided towards their group. As he got closer, Gunwook noticed he did not have pointed ears like the rest of the people who stormed through their front gate.

“It’s the call girl- or uh, boy, I guess.” Gyuvin whispered, “The voice from the phone.” He recalled, rapidly slapping Gunwook’s arm.

“Stop joking, Gyuv, there is not a prostitute in our front yard.”

“I’m not joking! Transmission stones cost a fortune and are super hard to find. You wouldn’t give them to just anyone.” He pointed to Hanbin, “and you don’t look at a friend like that.”

Gunwook nodded, slightly convinced. The man was wearing an expensive outfit and returned a very loving gaze to the pink-haired faerie.

“Hambinaa.” The maybe prostitute whined and ran into the faerie’s open arms. Locked in a tight embrace, the two pulled back to gaze deeply at each other.

The rest of them shared awkward glances because it felt like they were intruding on a personal moment. The man seemed to finally register the rest of them and stepped back from Hanbin.

“I almost forgot,” he said nonchalantly, lifting his shirt to expose the skin on his hip, just above the designer slacks.

“What the fuck is this?”

Gunwook felt the book warm in his hands, and another rose on the page slowly filled with ink.

The rose-marked, maybe prostitute, dropped his shirt and lingered at Hanbin’s side, clearly not enthusiastic about talking with random people.

Hanbin walked the introverted, but not uncomfortable, stripping man over to where they all stood, hand placed on the small of his back. Hanbin suddenly looked much brighter, despite the discovery.

“Everyone, this is Hao, my uh..”

“Boyfriend.” Hao finished the sentence, shyly smiling at them.

Matthew observed the very round ears on Hanbin’s boyfriend and the smitten look in his friend’s eyes.

“Don’t be tempted by crafty humans. We do the enchanting.” Matthew pouted, clicking his tongue at Hanbin. The faerie leaned into Gunwook again.

“And what do you do for work, Mr Hao?” Gyuvin smirked.

Gunwook was about to tell him to be quiet, but the tip of Ricky’s boot was already digging into Gyuvin’s sneakers.

Gunwook loudly cleared his throat before anyone could respond and smiled.

While Gyuvin frowned at the elf, Gunwook turned the book to show everyone the newly inked rose with great satisfaction. He was right—probably.

They caught Hao up on their shared fate, and after some long overdue introductions, they were once again staring at the Tome of Unknowns.

“So who’s missing?” Hao questioned, looking around, but nobody responded.

They were all huddled around a seated Gunwook, waiting for him to speak.

“Where is the final person to complete the roses?” Gunwook tried, but the book just flipped to an empty page. His brow furrowed.

“Who else do we need to fix Taerae?” The book flipped again, but the pages were still blank.

“It doesn’t know,” Jiwoong informed them, running a hand over the empty pages.

“Isn’t it like a fountain of knowledge?” Matthew was puzzled, leaning over Gunwook’s shoulder to stare at the book.

“In a sense, yes — but it’s also a book. It has a keeper for a reason.” Jiwoong was eyeing Taerae and Gunwook. “It cannot provide information that is completely new to it.”

They just kept staring at him, and Jiwoong sighed.

“The tome does not contain all knowledge, but accumulated and curated information from previous keepers. Meaning all keepers must review and add to the tome’s content—it is a lifelong assignment.”

“So the book is telling us to figure it out ourselves?” Gyuvin simplified, “Thanks for nothing, you bedazzled brick.”

The book suddenly disappeared from Gunwook’s hands and reappeared in the air over Gyuvin’s head, dropping down edges first into his skull, then landing on the ground.

Gyuvin hissed in pain, letting out a string of curses.

“I did warn you earlier that it was sentient.” Matthew chuckled, retrieving the book.

“I’m sure if we sit down and think, there must be someone else we know of who is also connected to all of this.”

Everyone started to sit back on the ground.

Hao glanced at the burnt house, down at his expensive pants, then back to the group.

“I’m not sitting on the grass.”

They all looked at the house again, the door still hanging limply off its hinges.

Matthew turned to Hanbin, smiling, holding out a hand.

“Shall we?”

⋆˚✿˖°🏠︎⭑.ᐟ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Hanbin walked around the house three times, mumbling about stones and oak wood. After he quizzed Gyuvin on its infrastructure, Hanbin stood on their doorstep, massaging his wrists.

“Okay, Chu, I’m ready.”

Matthew floated over to Hanbin’s side, carrying pebbles and sticks he had hurriedly gathered while Hanbin was surveying the house.

Depositing the items in the doorway, Matthew turned and sent Gunwook a bright smile, then rejoined Hanbin’s side.

“My Hambina is a very talented healer. Your house will be better than ever.” Hao bragged, nudging Gunwook’s arm.

Hanbin placed a hand on the wall just outside the door.

What is burnt to ash shall rise with a hurricane, let everything stained black be born again.

The ground began to rumble, and the house started to sag, tilting left and right, before deflating with a strong gust of air. The building crumbled in on itself, leaving a huge cloud of dust.

Wood slats jutted out like broken bones amidst the stone rubble and shattered glass— the house was utterly destroyed.

Gunwook’s jaw fell open—this was fixing it? He stepped forward, but Jiwoong’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, head shaking.

“Patience. There is rebirth in destruction.”

Hanbin reached a hand back, and Matthew caught it; the suns’ on his wings were spinning like pinwheels.

In response, the stars on Hanbin’s silver wings started swirling rapidly, and it looked like an engine charging.

The air became thin and stiff, then Gunwook felt sparks crackling around them. The smell of burnt wood filled the air before being replaced with the scent of pine. Strands of hair on everyone’s head started to stand up while the air was magnetized.

A loud wind crashed down on the home, and suddenly, a small tornado engulfed his home. Stones and wood swirled through the air. Hanbin and Matthew stood before the storm, and not a single piece of debris touched them.

There was the loud groan of wood, then the tornado began to shrink, revealing the familiar pointed brown thatched roof he loved. Stones of various sizes and colours popped into place, while vines slithered back up the walls.

He almost cried when the tornado shrank down, revealing his favourite reading spot, the bay window that overlooked the front yard.

The final thing to fall into place was their wooden door that snapped back on its hinges and creaked open.

The faeries moved aside to let Gyuvin and Gunwook enter.

Inspecting the inside, it was as if nothing had happened. Their boots and aprons were placed neatly by the door.

He ran a hand over the blue couch he and Gyuvin had found on sale, saw the old TV with antennas they found in a junkyard. The charm of it was that you’d have to kick it on occasion to regain signal, which was a great stress reliever at times.

He turned to the staircase and headed for his room. Hanbin had restored it in full, right down to the framed picture of Gyuvin and him on their first day of university. Tears clouded Gunwook’s vision as he looked around the space. He sat on the bed and hugged his pillow. Everything in the room suddenly felt so special. The books, the half-empty spray paint, academic certificates, and a stuffed animal he won at the arcade once.

So excited to see his home again, He realized he never thanked the faeries and walked back downstairs.

There was loud clanking from the kitchen, followed by disgruntled grumbling. He entered the room and smiled.

Like he always found at the other end of a loud noise in the house, it was Gyuvin, rifling through the cabinets. The faerie paused when he saw Gunwook.

“Oh, good, you’re here. This is a nightmare!”

Gunwook looked at their not-burnt-down kitchen and raised an eyebrow. Catching the look, Gyuvin groaned and threw open several cabinets, then the fridge door.

“There’s no food!” He cried in distress, throwing his arms up while he walked past Gunwook.

Gyuvin made his way outside to try and pick some berries from the bush, then frowned when he remembered a certain redhead had devoured them all.

Gunwook followed, sticking his head outside the door, inspecting the yard.

”Where’d everyone go?” He frowned, stepping outside.

Matthew’s tent no longer sat on the grass, the tree Jiwoong fell out of looked perfectly normal again, and the book had vanished.

Gunwook panicked for a moment.

Had they been tricked?

The fear abandoned children have that nobody wants them around resurfaced, making him fidget. Everyone leaving made Gunwook incredibly sad, but it was Matthew’s absence that he felt the most.

The space next to him suddenly felt very hollow and cold. Gyuvin stood beside him with a bright smile.

“They’ll be back soon.” He reassured, patting Gunwook on the back, before walking inside.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ૮ ˆﻌˆ ა⁩ ʕ·•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ʔฅ ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Soon could not come soon enough.

Every second felt like an hour while Gunwook ran in circles around their living room. There was a vacancy in his soul that was demanding to be filled again.

It was odd, before they’re home felt full enough with just the two of them, but now it felt incredibly empty.

A breeze rustled the trees, and Gunwook ran to the window, but the yard was still empty.

Gunwook groaned and returned to pacing around the living room, set on edge by Gyuvin’s refusal to tell him where everyone had gone.

Gyuvin, on the other hand, sat relaxed on their couch, playing an increasingly annoying game with cheery music, Eumppappa rested in his lap.

“You sure they aren’t off on a dangerous quest without us?”

“Yup,” Gyuvin responded, stroking the dog. Not at all interested in sharing any other information.

Gunwook was getting frustrated. Gyuvin loved to talk; he’d be in first place if they ever held a competition. He was sure the faerie would’ve spilled something by now. But no, Gyuvin had chosen now to become the Fort Knox of secrets.

Gunwook remembered every nasty faerie he’d ever read about that probably still lurked in the forest.

“What if he gets hurt? We should be looking for them.”

“He?” Gyuvin smirked, “Which he are you so worried about? Perhaps a little blonde cutie with sparkly eyes.”

Gunwook’s face reddened as he paused, realizing the error, then started pacing again.

“I meant they, I’m worried about all of them.” Gunwook tried to backtrack, “Matthew is included in that, of course, nothing more.”

Gunwook chewed his lip. Gyuvin could not know about his feelings for Matthew.

His friend would no doubt cook up some weird scheme to try and help him, and said scheme would go horribly wrong. Plus, Gunwook was still working through the feelings himself.

“Sure. Let’s pretend that’s it.” Gyuvin rolled his eyes; even Eumppappa was looking at Gunwook unimpressed.

“It’s been like five hours, what are they doing anyway? Are we really just gonna wait here?” Gunwook suddenly asked, trying to change the subject.

“It’s been 45 minutes.”

Gyuvin eyed his ratty pajama pants.

“You could change, or brush your hair, probably a good idea to charge your phone.” Gyuvin shrugged, then went back to tapping his screen. “You’re not gonna attract anyone looking that raggedy.” He mumbled.

Gunwook sighed, looking down at his pants and feeling a breeze where his hood once was. He should definitely get changed.

He certainly could look better, for non-Matthew-related reasons, of course.

Triumphant trumpets sounded from Gyuvin’s phone as he cheered, jostling Eumppappa in his lap, making her let out a short bark. Gunwook smiled.

He was home again—only a few people were missing.

｡𖦹°‧

Gunwook needed an outfit, and not just any outfit. One that said, ‘I know you thought I was trying to kill you when we first met, but I’m actually a handsome chill guy who would make a great boyfriend’.

But all of his clothes were hoodies or a few nice sweaters, nothing nearly as fancy as what Matthew was wearing. He put on his best grey quarter zip with some jeans that made his legs look long.

Moving to fix his hair next, something dropped out from behind his ear. He recognized it was the four-leaf clover Matthew had placed in his hair earlier that day. Grinning, he put the clover between the pages of his thickest textbook, so it could be pressed and made into a bookmark later.

Returning to his hair, Gunwook did a trendy middle part and left some strands in the center. He stepped back from his floor-length mirror and nodded in approval. It was a casual but clean look. His phone buzzed, and he ran over to check it.

Manager K: Hey, just making sure you’re alright. Gyuvin told me you had an emergency and couldn’t come into work.

Hi, thanks for checking in. Everything is good now!

Manager k: Great to hear, think you’ll be able to come in this weekend?

Yes, I’ll definitely be there.

Gunwook tossed his phone onto his bed. How could he have forgotten he had a life, a regular human life?

It was fortunate they were on summer break, so there were no assignments for him to do. But the library didn’t need extra hands in the summer, so he’d taken work with a local bakery every summer—a job he should’ve started days ago.

He trudged downstairs and found Gyuvin standing in the middle of the room, beaming.

“Oh, good, you’re ready!” Gyuvin hurried to the front door, knocked three times, then flung it open.

Gunwook brightened immediately when he caught a glimpse of iridescent wings in the yard, and bounced in joy towards the door. He could already feel them before he saw anything.

Even so, his smile grew wider when he saw everyone outside in a line, holding various objects. Gunwook immediately found Matthew at the end of the line, poking his head out and returning a bright smile.

There was an awkward silence as he waited for them to enter, but they all stared at him, waiting for something.

“Quibing, you need to tell him what we’re doing.” Ricky prompted from behind Hanbin. “And we still need to re-ward the house before it gets dark.” The elf’s tail was swinging impatiently behind him.

Gunwook peered sideways at Gyuvin, suspecting his friend had kept the information to himself to cause unnecessary mischief.

“Explain it quickly, I’m getting hot,” Hao complained from under a white paper parasol that almost hit Jiwoong in the hit face.

“When you invite new faeries into your home, it is customary for them to give you gifts, like a blessing for the home.” Gyuvin finally explained.

“So what are they waiting for?”

“You gotta invite them in, you’re the owner of this house.”

“Should I say something specific?”

“Gyuvin, didn’t you tell him anything?” Hanbin quirked an eyebrow from the front of the line.

“I wanted it to be a surprise; everyone likes a surprise.”

“I don’t,” Hao said flatly, fanning himself and sighing.

“As the owner of the residence, you can invite us in however you see fit.” Jiwoong provided, leaning out from behind the parasol. “But do invite us in at some point in the day.” He glared at the object in Hao’s hands, “and please do so before this paper contraption renders me sightless.”

Gunwook paused. This was clearly a nice tradition, and he felt like it warranted a fancy speech, but he also saw the growing agitation and thought he should hurry this along.

He cleared his throat and tried to stand tall. He smiled, feeling a corny but heartfelt sentiment come to mind.

“Although we met through a creepy death pact, I firmly believe people meant to find each other always will. We’re all different, and I think that’s what can save us in the end—and we will save each other. I know you don’t know me, but please make yourself at home, and I hope we can all be good friends.”

“Well said.” Hanbin praised, stepping up to the doorway.

He handed Gunwook a ceramic tall box that looked like he’d stolen a spire from one of those fancy churches in Europe.

In between the spaces that didn’t have intricate designs were expertly painted landscapes of forests at night.

Gunwook inspected the box, and it was much lighter than it looked. He delicately lifted the top off and saw white packets inside.

“They’re teabags,” Hanbin explained, “it allows you to fly temporarily. Hao said it was really fun for someone without wings.” Hanbin pointed to a label on the back, “It’s fairly simple, boil water, let the tea bag sit for 6 minutes, and you can float for up to an hour. Just say ‘down please’ whenever you’re done.”

Gunwook was smiling so hard his face threatened to cramp. This may be a casual thing for them, but this was the coolest gift he’s ever gotten.

He hugged Hanbin tightly, thanking him multiple times while the faerie patted his back.

Hanbin stepped inside and headed towards the living room to admire his work.

Bright red hair came into view next.

As soon as his boot touched the wooden floor inside, Ricky shoved a blue stone pan into Gyuvin’s chest.

“It’s impossible to burn any food when you cook with this.”

He placed a simple sheathed black dagger in Gunwook’s palm, “You never know when you might feel the urge to stab certain annoyances.” He smirked, tilting his head towards Gyuvin, then sauntered away.

“Rik, you’re kidding, right? You’d never stab me—Rik.” The elf continued towards the living room and began playing with the dog, pointedly ignoring Gyuvin.

A loud quack brought their attention back to the door.

Hopping up a step and waddling in backwards, Taerae was dragging a piece of dark grey cloth with black stitching in his beak.

“It’s a cloak,” Matthew yelled from the back of the line.

Taerae quaked at Gunwook’s feet, trying to push the cloth forward.

“He says it can deflect and ward off minor curses and hexes.”

Gunwook held up the cloak, which was delicately embroidered with birds and maple leaves.

Looking outside, Matthew pointed at his cloak, mouthing that they matched now.

Gunwook didn’t realize he was staring and smiling at the faerie until Hao loudly cleared his throat, walking in next.

“My gift is by far the most elegant.” He announced with pride, closing the parasol. Hao held up the most expensive-looking wind chimes Gunwook had ever seen.

It was made from stones and metals he’d never even seen before. As the pipes gently knocked against each other, deep, rich chimes sounded in perfect harmony.

Hao hung the pipes by the front door, giving them one last listen before nodding in satisfaction.

Gunwook was beginning to suspect that although Hao looked very human, he was probably some sort of faerie as well. There was an unnatural shine to his wine-red hair, and a beauty that most people did not possess.

More importantly, he was following faerie customs; his rounded ears had thrown Gunwook off, but what exactly Hao was, he couldn’t tell.

This was another question that Gunwook would have to search for answers to later; he wanted to see the rest of his gifts.

Jiwoong walked into the house, and his eyes started darting around, then landed on an old chair next to a small round table in the corner of their living room before returning to Gunwook.

He smiled tightly and handed Gunwook a small purple drawstring bag. Inside was a wax seal and some white wax sticks. The stamp was brass with a wooden handle and had a magpie surrounded by vines as its seal.

“It’s for mail,” Jiwoong explained, looking at him with what Gunwook thought was pity. “You can send postcards.” He paused, eyeing Gyuvin, “anywhere.” Jiwoong emphasized, then walked off to join the others without any further explanation.

Gunwook looked at his friend for an explanation, but Gyuvin shrugged at him, just as confused.

“By the way, where’s your gift? I also didn’t invite you in.” Gunwook teased.

“I reinforced the door.” He rubbed the wood with a loving expression, “No one is breaking my baby again.” Gyuvin beckoned Matthew forward, “and I’m a part of this house too, no invite needed.”

Matthew made his way in, hands hidden behind his back. Gunwook could not contain his smile. He was sure he would like anything Matthew gave him; in fact, Gunwook was content just seeing the faerie again and didn’t need a gift from him.

But whatever Matthew brought had the faerie bouncing on his feet. Gyuvin peeked behind the faerie and smirked, then walked off, taking the rest of Gunwook’s things from his arms.

“So Gunwookie, I know you like to learn and study things.” Matthew was fidgeting with his arms still hidden, “and I noticed how you look around when I tell you new information, and then frown like you might forget it. It’s a really cute expression, actually, your face scrunches and you pout your lips-” Matthew paused, catching himself, and quickly cleared his throat.“Anyway, I thought you might like this.”

Matthew handed him a brown leather notebook with a blue crystal orb lodged in the cover and a carved wooden pen attached to the side.

“Many faeries who study nature like you do in school use them. This can record images of things you see and transfer them to the page as drawn images.” Matthew pointed to the crystal on the cover.

“This pen also never runs out of ink; you just need to recharge it with magic every once in a while, and you can use this piece at the back as an eraser.”

Matthew began to smile even wider, “The best part about it, in my opinion, is the pages won’t even run out, so write as much as you like, it’ll stay the same size!”

Matthew excitedly unclipped the book to show Gunwook a page, “They’re all designed specifically for field study, see, you can write what you saw and when you saw it right here.”

Gunwook was on the brink of tears as Matthew explained more about the book. It was the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given him.

An orange charm bumped his hand from the side of the notebook. He turned it in his hands, and a carved fox was dangling from the spine.

“Oh, oops, I almost forgot. I made this because books are hard to carry all the time.” Matthew poked the fox charm with his finger, “If you say note in-”

The book was suddenly sucked from Gunwook’s hands, and all that remained was the charm. “It’ll do that, and you can just carry around the charm. Obviously, when you say ‘note out-”

The book was back in Gunwook’s hands with the fox dangling from the side.

“Simple, right?”

Matthew beamed up at Gunwook, and he felt that thundering in his chest again.

“So, do you like it?” The faerie shifted nervously.

“It’s a nerd’s wet dream, of course, he likes it,” Gyuvin commented from the couch in the living room, reminding Gunwook that there were, in fact, other beings in the room besides them.

Matthew looked up at Gunwook, waiting for confirmation, but all he could manage was a nod as he felt another piece of his heart steadily being stolen by the faerie before him.

The faerie hugged Gunwook, and he wasn’t sure if he hugged back. His mind was currently floating away, trying to think of ways to adequately thank Matthew.

“You look really nice, by the way,” Matthew whispered, before stalking off to join everyone else in the living room.

Gunwook followed closely behind as he didn’t want to be far from Matthew ever again.

Gyuvin stood suddenly, “Well, now that we’re finished, I’d like to eat, but we have no food.”

“Sorry, I can’t make food out of thin air.” Hanbin frowned.

“Then, we’ll just have to get some.” Hao smiled, producing a heavy black card from his wallet.

“You’re my new favourite person.” Gyuvin was almost teary-eyed as he hugged Hao.

Gunwook felt Ricky’s tail brush by him while the elf held a pinched expression— tail flicking back and forth.

“Oh, Hanbin, can we get more maple puffs?” Matthew tugged on his friend’s arm.

“No, Chu, they don’t make them here, but maybe we can find something similar you’ll like.”

“Great, yeah, whatever— let’s go!” Gyuvin urged, pushing Hao and his card towards the door.

“Wait, you can’t walk around looking like that!” Gunwook called, stopping everyone by the front gate.

They all looked at each other’s pointed ears, then quickly began twisting rings and swiping hands over their necklaces. Transforming themselves into much more human-looking beings.

Hanbin’s hair shifted from pink to black. Jiwoong was suddenly wearing slacks and a blue button-up shirt.

Ricky grabbed Gyuvin’s hand, waving over the ring, and his friend returned to the familiar image Gunwook always knew him in.

Touching an earring, Ricky’s appearance rippled, and his hair darkened until it was black, and his outfit remained essentially the same— black.

“Oh, Rik, I like this colour.” Gyuvin smiled, trying to touch the elf’s head. “Let’s keep it like this for a while, yeah?” Ricky frowned in response.

Hao remained the same, as he just looked like a rich, pretty human. He did, however, put on a pair of sunglasses and a hat for some reason. But Gunwook lost interest in them quickly, because he was trying, and failing, not to stare at Matthew’s body.

The faerie wore a fitted shirt with baggy jeans, and Matthew’s hair was now light brown. Taerae stood by his feet wearing a tiny wicker sun hat and a translucent green scarf.

Gunwook didn’t think anyone would let a duck in the store, but Taerae and Matthew seemed so excited he didn’t have the heart to say otherwise. Also, Gyuvin had dragged Hao out of the gate and towards the city, so there was no stopping them now.

Gunwook walked behind them, smiling. They truly did belong together.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡

Apparently, the grocery store in their small town was more liberal than he thought, because nobody said anything as Taerae waddled through the door.

The duck currently sat in the cart Gunwook was pushing around the store. He was starting to understand Taerae’s quacks a bit and grabbed the items the bird honked at.

Everyone was scattered around the store since Hao was kind enough to tell them to pick whatever they wanted.

They had one very large cart that Gunwook was pushing, and everyone periodically stopped by to drop in various items.

“I’m thinkin’ BBQ.” Gyuvin smiled excitedly, piling heaps of meat into the cart along with some dog food and a bag of mangoes.

Approaching the end of the aisle, Gunwook froze, gripping the cart handle tighter.

Matthew was leaning over and giggling with Jiwoong, then he ruffled Matthew’s hair.

A new and dark emotion boiled in Gunwook’s chest. Matthew’s hand landed on Jiwoong’s shoulder.

His jaw tightened. Gunwook didn’t think they were that close. Gyuvin crept up behind, peering out as well.

“Hanbin told me Jiwoong helped Matthew find that notebook he gave you. Brand new ones are issued through the library, so they’re hard to get on short notice. Apparently, he’s some bigwig captain.” Gyuvin informed him, somehow gathering all that information on their short walk to the grocery store.

Matthew threw his head back laughing, and Gunwook’s frown deepened. Nothing the faerie said could be that funny.

Hanbin placed some squid chips in the cart, startling them.

“I knew they would get along.” He grinned, “Matthew and I are quite similar; we’ve always liked the same people.”

Without another word, Hanbin walked over to Hao, who was inspecting the durians nearby.

Gyuvin’s arm draped over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about that chiseled jaw, grandpa, you’re a much better match for Matthew.”

“I’m not worried. Matthew is friendly, he’s making a friend…I’m cool with it.” Gunwook lied terribly, causing Gyuvin to sigh. 

Taerae quacked from the cart, reminding them both of his presence. The duck continued to quack, but neither of them understood, so they were all just staring at each other.

“I know, he’s saying Matthew is deeply in love with Gunwook and they’d be a great pair, right?” Gyuvin guessed.

The duck looked a little pissed, so Gunwook figured that was not it.

Taerae let out an exasperated quack and turned towards Matthew. The faerie whipped around and grinned, approaching the bird.

“Sorry, Tae, you must feel so bored in there.”

The duck honked at him.

“What are you talking about? You’re still my number one.”

He picked up the bird and adjusted his hat, walking away towards the fruits.

The bird stuck its long neck over Matthew’s shoulder, sending a triumphant look to Gunwook.

“Damn, your love rival is a duck. Good luck with that.” Gyuvin laughed, walking away to find more food.

Gunwook threw his face into his palms and groaned.

Moments later, Ricky dropped some strawberries into the cart.

“I think Matthew likes you, too.” The elf’s face remained neutral, “I hope you get to kiss.”

Gunwook was slack-jawed as he watched Ricky walk away. None of these faeries was even kind of normal.

He remembered his weird dreams and recalled that he wasn’t either.

It was getting harder to push the cart, so that probably meant it was time to go.

With enough food to feed a small village and a dent barely made in Hao’s finances, they were ready to go home.

Everyone’s arms were filled with shopping bags as they headed down the street. Taerae waddled between Gunwook and Matthew.

“Hey, look, it’s Hao!” Matthew pointed excitedly at a banner draped from a light post. They all paused to see the man posed elegantly playing the violin on the poster.

“What a lovely portrait.” Jiwoong complimented, “It’s displayed on several posts.” He motioned to the many images of Hao lining the street.

“Hao, you’re like a famous muse, that’s amazing! I hope you’ll play for us sometime.” Matthew smiled.

“Well, I guess he’s not a prostitute,” Gyuvin whispered, not quietly enough.

“Why did you think I was a prostitute?!” Hao frowned, whipping his sunglasses off to glare at them—his eyes flashed pale pink, it was so quick Gunwook almost missed it.

“Would it make you feel better if I said we weren’t positive?” Gunwook tried to soothe the pouting violinist.

“I’m sure it was an honest mistake.” Hanbin rubbed Hao’s back, “Any man would be lucky to buy you.” Hanbin chuckled.

“Do I look like I’m for sale?” Hao glared at Hanbin.

“What? No! You’re just very pretty-”

Loud shrieking cut through the air, as a gaggle of men and women began to rush towards them.

“Oh my god, it’s Zhang Hao! Can we have a picture?” One very crazed-looking woman at the front of the group said.

The mob began to cross the street and swarmed their group.

“Oh wow, this man is hot too.” A girl pointed at Ricky, who was trying to hide behind Gyuvin.

“Are you gonna do extra shows in Rosevale?”

Cameras were flashing, and the mob pressed closer.

“What’s that, Hao? You’re here to meet that guy over there from BTS?” Gunwook shouted, pointing to a young man seated under a gazebo nearby.

The crowd turned suddenly, and Gunwook stuffed his bags into Gyuvin’s arms. He scooped up Taerae as they all began to run.

Chips and snacks flew through the air while they dashed back home, finally losing the crowd before the edge of the woods.

Exhausted, they trudged through the front gate.

“Hao, you’re really famous, that was crazy.” Gunwook managed through haggard breaths.

“I think one of them stole my button.” Jiwoong pointed to his disheveled shirt.

“They’re not normally that bad,” Hao responded, clutching at his side.

“Water.” Hanbin wheezed, almost crawling towards the house, leaning on Matthew for support.

They all made their way inside to hydrate and unpack.

Putting the groceries away, Hao frowned and quickly started digging through the brown paper bag.

“Hambina, where are my chips? Did you forget?” Hao’s face turned to panic, “And what happened to my durian?”

Gyuvin looked guilty as he filled Eumppapa’s bowl. “Sorry, it was weighing me down.”

“Well, I need it, and I can’t go back into the city now.” Hao insisted, heading for the door with Hanbin trailing after him.

“Hao, we can buy another one lat-“ one pouted lip from Hao silenced him.

Hanbin sighed in resignation. Turning to Jiwoong, he sent a pleading smile.

“You want me to use my advanced senses to find a durian?” The faerie deadpanned.

Hanbin tugged at Jiwoong’s arm, and the faerie let himself be pulled away. Taerae quacked at Hao’s feet.

“Tae wants to help too.” Matthew translated, “he’s got a great nose.”

“Taerae, you sweet thing. You’ll find my durian, won’t you?” Hao cooed, scooping the bird up into his arms.

The duck honked, puffing out his chest.

“We’ll be back soon,” Hanbin called over his shoulder, walking through the gate.

Ricky tapped Gyuvin’s hand.

“The wards,” he urged, heading towards the side of the house.

Matthew and Gunwook were left alone, trying to shove a month’s worth of groceries into a two-person kitchen.

Gunwook was on the floor diligently organizing the produce by colour when frustrated grunts broke his focus.

Matthew was on his tiptoes trying to stuff some chips into an already full cabinet.

Gunwook paused his sorting and came up behind the faerie. Reaching over Matthew, Gunwook plucked the bag from his hands, and the faerie’s back brushed against his chest.

“Thanks, Gunwookie, I was-” Matthew’s breath hitched when he turned; their faces were inches apart. Gunwook’s tall frame loomed over Matthew, his free arm braced the counter, brushing against Matthew’s arm. The faerie was caged beneath him.

They were dangerously close, and Gunwook was suddenly faced with a choice—should he push for more, or back off?

Regardless of how he felt, Matthew’s friendliness didn’t necessarily mean romantic attraction.

Unwilling to retreat and hesitant to lean forward, all he could do was stare—and dream.

Gunwook’s gaze dropped to the faerie’s lips, and an indecent thought crossed his mind. He pictured lifting Matthew onto the counter and closing the short distance between their mouths, and how Matthew would have to cling to him for balance as they kissed.

That intoxicating vanilla scent hit his senses, and he imagined Matthew tasted as good as he smelled. Gunwook let his eyes roam further down; Matthew’s body probably felt even better. Gunwook’s hand twitched as he squeezed the chip bag tighter; self-control slipping fast.

“Matthew, I-I can I-“ Gunwook tried to speak, but the faerie was drawing closer, and having his angel so close was not favourable for brain function.

Matthew’s eyes were sharper as they watched Gunwook’s mouth with the same hunger, and a very mischievous smile spread across his face. Gunwook began to suspect he’d been lured into this position on purpose, but he had no intention of being anywhere else.

“Gunwookie, your emotions feel really good right now,” Matthew whispered, gazing up through thick lashes while sliding a hand over his bicep. Gunwook felt like he was on fire at the provocation; thoughts of devouring the faerie pushed to the front of his mind.

There was a loud pop, and chips exploded over Matthew’s head. Gunwook realized he hadn’t put the bag down, but was instead crushing it in his horny grasp.

“Fuck, sorry.” Gunwook blurred out, then stepped back to retrieve some napkins, glaring at his hand for ruining the moment.

They quickly cleaned up the mess, and Gunwook couldn’t look at Matthew.

He didn’t want to kiss Matthew in their kitchen for the first time, like they were at some trashy frat party.

It had to be a nicer setting, with flowers and moonlight or something.

Needing to cool down, Gunwook excused himself from the kitchen and ran to his room.

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

After pacing around for a while, he saw movement outside the window.

Matthew was in the front garden, sitting around some flowers and animatedly speaking with a large potted plant.

Gunwook stood by his window, watching— hoping he didn’t just ruin his only opportunity to kiss his angel. Butterflies began to flutter around Matthew, and he touched each one with a confused expression.

The hag stone Gunwook found by the pond started glowing faintly on his desk. Gunwook picked it up and turned it over in his hands.

The belief was that you could see any hidden faeries if you looked through the hole in the centre, and if worn around the neck, it was a protection charm.

The blue light continued to pulse from the rock while it warmed his palm. He held the rock up to his eye and surveyed the yard. He looked to the vegetable patch by the fence and saw nothing, same with the flower garden in the opposite corner.

The chimes on the front door started clanging like an alarm, and Eumppappa was barking downstairs. The stone glowed brighter, but Gunwook could see no danger.

A bush rustled behind Matthew, and Gunwook spotted a scaled creature with a barbed tail creeping behind the faerie.

Before he could react, the tail shot through Matthew’s body, and the faerie dropped onto the grass, blood pooling around him.

The next few moments were a blur as Gunwook yelled for Gyuvin and Ricky. The faeries met him at the door, but an invisible wall halted Gunwook’s advances.

“Stay inside,” Gyuvin warned, scanning the yard.

Gunwook panicked when he saw Matthew’s lifeless body on the grass; he needed to be outside.

“Where is it?” Ricky asked, eyes dancing across the yard.

“Gyuvin, let me out. I can see it.” Gunwook pleaded, banging on the barrier.

His eyes landed on Matthew again. He was breathing, right? He had to be breathing— there was so much blood.

“The wards are working; stay there. Rik and I will handle this. Just tell us where it is.”

Eumppappa was by Gunwook’s feet, growling at the yard, and the chimes fell silent. The stench of oil and dead fish filled the area, and Gunwook fought the urge to gag.

Ricky quickly ran to the bushes near the door and pulled out the long black bag he had arrived with. Several small daggers floated around the elf while he walked to the centre of the yard.

“Gunwook, where is it?” Ricky demanded, ears twitching rapidly, body tensed like a snake ready to strike.

Gyuvin clutched a broomstick close to his chest, and a bright orange shield floated over his arm.

Gunwook held the stone up again. The creature was pacing around Matthew with a green liquid dripping from its maw.

A few drops fell on the faerie, burning the skin it touched. Matthew twitched, but remained incapacitated on the grass.

Gunwook’s relief that Matthew wasn’t dead was short-lived; the beast was crouching again, eyes locked on Ricky.

“On your left, just above Matthew.” Gunwook directed.

Three knives shot through the air, and one clipped the creature’s leg.

“Aim higher, it’s moving towards that tree.”

Gunwook was doing his best to keep track of the creature, but it was fast.

“Behind you!” Gunwook yelled, seeing that barbed tail shoot for Ricky.

Gyuvin was at Ricky’s back, but barely blocked the invisible attack, the tail sliced by his arm.

“It’s circling you, 5 o’clock.”

Ricky sent more daggers, but they only grazed the creature. Gunwook watched helplessly as the barbed tail jabbed at his friends, adding more cuts as they barely managed to dodge.

Eventually, Gyuvin erected a giant shield around them, but they were stranded in the middle of the yard, unable to reach Matthew.

Gunwook chewed his lip. This wasn’t working. He was tired of watching, and he was tired of being told to wait.

His gaze shifted to Matthew. He was losing too much blood, and that green goo from the monster was making it worse. Gunwook needed a solution now.

The Tome of Unknowns dropped out of the air and whacked his shoulder.

Gunwook wasn’t sure it would work without Taerae, but he didn’t care; he would force the book to answer him if he had to. His friends needed him— Matthew needed him.

“What creature is in my yard?” Gunwook commanded, throwing the cover open.

The book rumbled, and an image appeared on the page; unfortunately, the words were not in a language he understood.

Gunwook stared at the picture. Scaly dark green skin, two sharp fangs, a harpoon-like tail, and orange eyes.

It looked familiar somehow, then it hit him. Gunwook read about an encounter a fisherman had with a beast described just like this.

The thing almost bit the man’s arm off, but the fisherman had thrown his lantern at it and managed to escape.

Gunwook tossed the tome aside and ran to their kitchen. He pulled out their utility lighter, a bag of flour, and some bug spray.

He was at the door again, but still stuck inside. The monster was battering Gyuvin’s shield, close to breaking through.

Gunwook grabbed an iron frying pan and tossed it at the protection spell, dispelling the magic momentarily.

Racing outside, he darted towards the scarecrow by the strawberry bush and quickly put his sweater over it, then stuffed the bag of flour in the chest. He held the stone up again.

The creature was bounding towards him, tail poised to strike.

Gunwook let out a deep breath, bouncing on his heels as he waited in front of the scarecrow.

He stood there until the last possible second.

The tail shot out and missed him by a hair.

He grunted, hitting the ground hard.

The tail was lodged into the scarecrow, and the creature angrily whipped it around.

Trying to shake the object loose, flour showered over the sticky scales— its form was finally visible.

Shoving the stone in his pocket, Gunwook rushed towards Gyuvin and Ricky, who were both gaping at him.

“Use Fire,” Gunwook instructed, dumping the lighter and bug spray into Gyuvin’s hands, then sprinted towards Matthew.

He tried to keep his face neutral, but the wound was worse up close. There was a deep hole in Matthew’s side just under the ribs, oozing black blood. The flesh around it was purple and torn to shreds— dark lines snaked along his skin.

Dropping to his knees, Gunwook gingerly rolled Matthew over. The faerie was pale, his breathing shallow and slow.

Matthew whimpered when Gunwook tried to lift him, barely opening his eyes.

“Gunwookie, it’s not safe. Go back inside.” Matthew rasped.

“We’ll go together. Can you hang on to me?”

About to scoop Matthew into his arms, the stone was warming his pocket again. Propping Matthew up, his free hand fished the stone out.

Holding it up, his stomach dropped. A new harpooned-tailed monster was approaching them.

Gunwook looked at his friends for help, but Ricky was busy trying to kill the creature that had Gyuvin pinned under its paw.

Gunwook was on his own— unarmed and magicless.

The creature’s tail was already sailing towards them.

“Gunwook, run.” Matthew pleaded, trying to push him away.

Gunwook ignored the faerie for the first time since they met. Holding Matthew closer to his chest, Gunwook closed his eyes and waited for the impact.

A few seconds passed, and Gunwook didn’t feel the sting of a spiked appendage, but the breeze of fabric instead.

A purple cape swayed in front of his eyes, and a figure blocked the sun.

Silver hair shining, Jiwoong stood above them, a chained weapon trapped the tail before his face.

“Go inside,” Jiwoong spoke through gritted teeth, trying to keep hold of the creature.

Several fireballs knocked the beast further back, and Gunwook heard furious quacking.

“Hurry, Gunwook,” Hao called from the doorway before turning to whip his durian at the flour-covered monster Ricky was trying to take down.

Gunwook dashed inside with Matthew and set him on the dining room table Hanbin had cleared off.

The faerie ripped Matthew’s shirt open without hesitation, gasping softly.

Dark green veins crawled up Matthew’s skin, heading towards his heart.

“Can you fix him? Please tell me you can.”

“I need to know what caused the injury,” Hanbin said desperately.

Taerae quaked at Gunwook’s feet, dragging the book over.

Gunwook spoke quickly, showing Hanbin the page with the creature.

“What language is that?” Hanbin squinted at the writing.

Hao came back with towels and a bowl of water.

“Looks similar to old faerie script,” he pointed over Hanbin’s shoulder, “my mother taught me to read it.”

“What type of venom does it use?” Hanbin questioned immediately.

Hao scanned the page. “Hemotoxcin, nightshade strain.”

“It’s attacking his blood vessels.” Gunwook paled, grabbing Matthew’s hand— It was ice cold. He clutched it tighter, hoping his body heat might help.

Hanbin ran to his bag and pulled out a huge briefcase.

He threw several liquids and plants into the bowl, crushing them quickly.

Gunwook brushed Matthew’s bangs from his sweating forehead and pressed a cold cloth down. The faerie was groaning and shaking.

Taerae anxiously fluttered beside Gunwook.

Gyuvin rushed inside, throwing the bug spray aside.

“We need more fire.” He panted, looking at Taerae.

The bird honked, rushing towards Gyuvin. He scooped the duck up and ran back out.

Through the bay window, Gunwook watched Taerae shoot fire so hot it burned blue.

Seeing Matthew injured had ignited a murderous rage in the duck that Gunwook understood— these were the first faeries he’d ever wanted dead.

“Hao, can you put him under?” Hanbin asked, dipping his fingers into the red mix of goop.

Hao nodded and sat by Matthew’s head, humming a soft tune—a pale pink color faintly glowed in his eyes.

Matthew squirmed a bit, then finally stilled.

“Hold on tight, he’ll still feel some pain,” Hanbin instructed, placing Gunwook’s hands on Matthew’s shoulders.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, Chu.” Hanbin stroked Matthew’s cheek, then pushed two fingers into the gaping wound.

Hanbin’s eyes shone silver as he worked, and Matthew cried while Gunwook held him down.

After several minutes, the black veins finally halted their advance.

“I’ve almost got it, louder, Hao.”

Hanbin twisted his arm, and Matthew seized, nails digging into Gunwook’s arm.

The faerie pulled out a black mass with root-like growths hanging off it. Hanbin dropped it in the bowl and began patching up the wound.

Colour slowly returned to Matthew’s face, and his breathing steadied. Gunwook sat down at his side, stroking Matthew’s head while Hao continued to sing.

The noises outside died down, and Jiwoong stumbled through the door with Ricky slung over his shoulder. Gyuvin limped in close behind with Taerae in his arms. They all dropped onto the couch, exhausted and bruised.

“Hanbin, hypothetically speaking, when is it safe to pull a knife out of your foot?” Gyuvin asked.

“Leave it in, it builds character.” Jiwoong patted Gyuvin’s shoulder.

“I told you to move.” Ricky groaned, lying back further into the couch.

Hanbin looked at them, sighing deeply. The faerie took one last look at Matthew, then wiped his hands before walking over.

Gunwook remained, holding Matthew’s hand like a lifeline, trying not to cry.

The faerie was in a much better state, but soft moans still slipped from his lips at the slightest movement. Gunwook wished desperately to take his pain away.

Hao looked at him with pity and patted Gunwook’s head.

“It’s my fault he was outside,” Gunwook whispered. “If I hadn’t left him alone-”

“You’d be dead.” Hao interrupted. “Faeries can recover from this type of poison, but humans will die instantly.”

Gunwook nodded, but didn’t feel any better. It didn’t change the fact that he was just a useless human—an unwanted human.

“Everything has a purpose,” Hao comforted, reading the miserable expression. “I think a nice meal will lift everyone’s spirits.”

Hao made his way towards the kitchen.

Gunwook rested his head on the table, staring at Matthew’s sleeping face.

He held the faerie’s hand tighter, and his eyes began to feel heavy, adrenaline slowly draining from his body.

He tried to keep awake, afraid of letting Matthew out of his sight again, but sleep was calling him.

“Hao, no cooking.” Was the last thing he heard.

Unable to fight it any longer, Gunwook shut his eyes and quietly drifted away— a creature began howling in his mind.

✃𓄧꒷꒦ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

° ˛ ° ˚* _Π_____*☽*˚ ˛

✩ ˚˛˚*/______/__＼。✩˚ ˚˛

˚ ˛˚˛˚｜ 田田｜門｜ ˚ ˚

´´ ̛ ̛ ´´ ´´ ´´ ̛ ̛ ´´ ´´ ´´ ̛ ̛ ´´ ´´

Chapter Text

ROSEVALE?

This was a darkness Gunwook had become quite familiar with; it was the space that existed between his dreams— or visions?

The yowling animal was new, though.

It sounded like it was shouting for help, the cries became desperate and broken as they echoed in the darkness.

He flinched when the howling grew louder in his mind, and the creature’s noises made his heart ache. Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, the crying was suddenly cut off, replaced by a child’s voice that reverberated in the dark.

“Most don’t know what other faeries taste like— but I do. It might surprise you that certain creatures bleed blue and their blood is sweet like honey, not metallic and bitter.”

Gunwook’s eyes shot open, and he was lying on his back. He shifted to sit up, feeling something soft under his hands. He was on a mound of pink peach blossom petals.

“Have you ever been so ravenous you grew claws and fangs?” The voice grew manic and agitated—deeper.

“Do you know the feeling of your teeth aching, demanding to be sunk into another being, and even when you do, you still hunger for more?”

Looking around, he tried to find the voice’s origin, but the rest of the space was mostly black; some tree trunks were silhouetted by an eerie light in the distance.

The child’s voice returned.

“You ever been so hungry for something, it hurt?”

Love— Gunwook thought involuntarily in response. He shook his head and looked around the space again, trying to focus.

“Where are you?” Gunwook called out to the blackness.

The voice was silent, but a bright comet shot through the darkness high above his head. A fluffy white rabbit with red eyes hopped out of the darkness, gazing up at him.

It seemed to lose interest almost immediately and began hopping away. Gunwook scrambled out of the petals and rushed after it.

He was following the animal down a dark road, and every once in a while, he’d see an object like an inked capped mushroom, or rocks stacked in a weird formation. At one point, he even saw a ‘dead end’ sign spray-painted with a thunderbolt-looking symbol.

The rabbit paused, reaching a never-ending row of peach blossom trees with lights floating between them. It hopped below the third ball of light and waited for Gunwook to follow. Coming closer, it looked kinda like a mirror— but it was not reflecting him.

There was instead, what looked like a hospital room with a singular bed, and a small child reflected in the light— was it a portal?

He reached out to tap the surface, and it rippled in response, slightly lifting with his finger as he pulled away. He reached out again, but this time it did not let go, and Gunwook was plunged into a memory.

ROSEWOOD INFIRMARY

The young faerie lay in his private ward, the only sounds were his useless guards whispering about some dark elf almost drowning in a lake nearby. Idle gossip he didn’t care for.

“How is he today?” A hushed voice asked.

“He’s not stabilizing with regular healing. we’ve tried quite a few herbs, but I fear he’s sick like the other saplings.”

“I see, we’ll keep trying to stabilize him.” The young faerie scoffed; they weren’t stabilizing him. Nobody said it but he knew—he could not be fixed.

“They’re putting bandages on a gaping wound,” he whispered.

There was a pause, and a younger-sounding voice cleared his throat.

“Ah, yes. This is my newest apprentice; he’s young, but a very talented healer. I also think the boy might take better to someone close in age.”

“The councilwoman will have our heads if we don’t try something.”

Footsteps began approaching.

“Remember, boy, no one is to know you did this.” The older voice warned.

The curtain was drawn back, and a pink head poked in.

The young faerie grimaced. It was the most kind and enchanting face he’d seen in days—rosy cheeks, bright smile, and soft eyes.

The young faerie hated him instantly. Nice healers were only nice because of the councilwoman, not because they cared for him. The pink haired healer made a corny joke and giggled to himself at it.

Hanbin?— Gunwook pushed himself deeper in the memory, recognizing the silver starry wings.

Young Hanbin sat next to the bed but didn’t touch him. The young faerie waited, and the pink healer did as well.

“Hurry up, I’m hungry.” Was all the little faerie said, clearly wanting the pain to be over quickly.

He squeezed his eyes shut, held his arm out, and waited for the sting.

“Do you like sweets?”

The young faerie opened an eye, and before his face was a small square of caramel. The young faerie sniffed at the candy then frowned.

“You said you were hungry.” The healer smiled.

The young faerie frowned deeper, glaring at Hanbin with distrustful eyes.

He swatted the treat away.

Hanbin didn’t even bat an eye at the bratty act.

“Not fond of caramel, are you? I can bring you something else next time.”

The young faerie narrowed his eyes, impressed by the persistence. Holding out his arm again, the young faerie didn’t speak.

Hanbin sighed and took his arm, eyes glowing silver as he began to work. The young faerie looked shocked, it didn’t seem hurt like he expected. Hanbin launched into stories about him and Matthew that seemed to intrigue the young faerie after a while.

Gunwook watched them through many different sessions. The young faerie started waiting for Hanbin, his silly stories, and failed attempts to bribe him with treats—genuine company.

They continued with that same routine until, after one particularly long session, the child took pity on the healer.

“Peaches.” The little faerie said as Hanbin packed up. He paused and stared wide-eyed.

“I like peaches.” The young faerie rolled over and pulled the covers over his head to hide, Hanbin still tidying up to leave. He gently patted his head through the sheets.

“I’ll find you the sweetest ones.”

The softness was gone moments later, along with the healer.

The boy was left alone again.

Gunwook watched the faerie squirm under the sheet— battling a hunger he could no longer contain.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Gunwook stumbled back from the portal with a gasp, chest heaving— he had sunk a little too deep into that memory. He’d have to be more cautious next time.

The rabbit looked up and at him, then hopped further down the road to sit under another light mirror.

Gunwook was about to walk forward when his chest started burning and his necklace glowed.

“Not now, Gyuvin,” he groaned, before being violently yanked away.

He was back in his body, and his eyes refused to open, but his other senses came to life.

“Wookie, it’s Gyuvin, can you eat this?”

A warm liquid was pushed against his lips, and he greedily ate some mouthfuls before he was pulled back under.

Gunwook opened his eyes, and the rabbit sat in the middle of the lane, darting around anxiously. It dashed forward, launching itself at his leg and landing an ineffectual kick on his shin.

“I’m sorry I left before you were done. I won’t do it again.”

Gunwook crouched down to pet it and it seemed to calm down. He was almost certain that the sick little boy was somehow also this rabbit, and maybe the person they were searching for.

“What do you want to show me next?” Gunwook smiled, and the rabbit hopped to another mirror.

Stepping up to this one, he saw a grove of flowering white trees surrounding a low flat stone platform resembling an outdoor theater.

A violinist climbed up the stairs— Hao, he recognized. Gunwook reached out again and let the strange liquid pull him forward.

𝄞 - ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.

ROSEGROVE FAERIE THEATRE

They were an audience of two, but she was important enough to request such things and not be denied. The duo sat on a picnic blanket in the distance, a feast strewn out before them— a tower of peaches in the middle. Hao began to play a light-hearted melody, and the child from the infirmary was in the woman’s lap, bouncing with excitement.

“Reverie of the birds.” The little faerie squealed, “my favourite!”

The beautiful woman smiled at this and stroked his hair. The woman had long, dark blue hair that matched the little faerie’s, and skin just as pale.

“I know, precious, I asked him to play it just for you.”

A moth floated by, and the boy retreated into the woman’s arms, frightened. “I hate those things,” he snapped his teeth at it. The woman chuckled and held her hand open, the moth froze, trapped in a small bubble. “They can be rather nasty, can’t they?”

She stood, walking to a nearby tree, “but if something is troubling you and you can’t quite fix it yet. You can always trap it.” The dark-haired woman suddenly turned, her eyes bore straight into Gunwook— and he knew somehow, she was aware of his presence.

“Watch closely,” she whispered. The blue faerie shut her eyes, and a hole in the tree opened up. She placed the bubble inside, and the wood closed around it.

All the flowers dropped from the branches, and a small crescent moon appeared on the bark— the only indication that something was trapped inside.

She returned to the blanket and pulled the faerie back onto her lap.

“This is a special secret of how we hide the things we can’t control.” The little faerie looked confused.

“Why don’t we just kill it?”

The woman frowned, “because all life is precious, and killing something might create more problems than it solves.”

“So, how do we fix it?” the little faerie seemed even more confused.

“We may not know a solution now.” The woman turned and looked at Gunwook again. “But someday, somebody else will.”

Hao finished playing, and the moment he lifted his bow, the little faerie began clutching his stomach in pain.

“I’m hungry.” A much deeper voice than a child should have spoke. Sharp claws grew from the faerie’s hands and little black bird wings shot out from his back.

“Rest.” The woman swiped a hand over the little faerie’s eyes, and he went limp in her arms.

The woman stood and approached the violinist, who bowed.

“It was an honour, great seer.” The woman smiled and plucked two flowers from a nearby tree.

She crushed them in her fist and opened her palm to reveal two white pearls with a pink sheen. Hao stared at the woman wide-eyed.

“It will lead you to your other half.” She explained, dropping the pearls into his palm.

“Thank you.” Hao bowed even deeper, then excused himself.

The woman turned to look at the spot where Gunwook peeked in. She nuzzled the sleeping boy in her arms like she wouldn’t be able to for a long time.

“Please— save him.”

Gunwook stepped back and was gently released this time.

Was that truly just a memory?

That woman was clearly talking to him. The rabbit kicked him to get his attention, then ran far down the lane. Moving to follow, Gunwook’s leg halted mid-stride. A fox was desperately looking at him, yanking on his pant leg.

“Too long.” A familar voice whispered to him. A light glowed beside him, and he was sucked inside.

⊹₊⋆

The second time Gunwook woke up, his favourite voice was speaking—Matthew’s voice. Sadly, his vision was blurred. He saw one small shape and one tall shape.

“You cannot wake him yet.” The tall shape scolded, it sounded like Jiwoong.

“He’s not supposed to be sleeping this long, I’m worried! He’s barely eaten.” The small shape with Matthew’s voice said in distress.

Jiwoong huffed out a sigh, “Every time you wake him, you prolong the visit. If he does not fully wake, then he is not done seeing what must be seen.”

“You’re pushing him too hard! I can feel it, he’s getting exhausted.”

Gunwook groaned, and his mind was getting foggy again. The tiny shape rushed over, shoving a glass to his lips.

“Drink this, please.”

The voice was sad; he didn’t want the voice to be sad, so he drank.

“Good boy.”

He felt a warm hand pat his head, then drifted back into the dark.

⊹₊⋆

Gunwook returned to the path of peach blossoms, the rabbit was waiting for him to continue on their journey of memories, and kicked him for leaving again.

An extra set of paws echoed in the dark as they walked. A fox trailed after them, but didn’t try to pull him back this time. They walked for what felt like a long time, and Gunwook was starting to feel weary as he trudged forward.

“This has to be the last one. I can’t take much more.”

The rabbit paused and hopped between several memories before finally settling on one. “You sure?” Gunwook stared at the rabbit.

It looked around and darted to another ball, but made its way back to where Gunwook stood. Gunwook smiled then peeked in.

It was winter in this memory, and Gunwook was shocked to see the rabbit monster from his very first dream bounding into the woods, and Hanbin holding onto Matthew, flying off in the opposite direction— It was the end of his very first dream.

“Is that you?” he asked the rabbit.

It hopped below the light again, and Gunwook took that as a yes.

Taking a deep breath, he dove in again.

⋆⁺₊❅.

FROST HOLLOW

The creature trudged by the ice-covered rose trees in the deep winter night, a blue pouch hanging from its mouth. The animal walked with a slight limp as the wound on its leg never healed properly. Two full pink moons hung in the sky, and the forest was quiet; the only sound was the creature’s paws crunching the fresh snow.

The rabbit beast walked for a long time before pausing in front of a dark cave with blue crystals jutting out of the walls. The rabbit head began to shrink, and four clawed legs turned into two normal ones, leaving a teenage faerie with black- blue hair, wearing a dark hoodie, combat boots, and baggy jeans standing in its place.

The faerie tossed a hood over his head, checked his surroundings, then slipped through the portal. The boy stepped out into an almost barren clearing blanketed with snow, a wisteria tree sat in the center— a circle of green grass around it. The faerie lay down in the grass, staring up at the purple hanging blooms.

“I didn’t find him today either,” he divulged to the tree, “I don’t even have enough magic to track him properly.”

He pulled the blue pouch from his sweater pocket. “And I’ve turned into a petty thief to fulfill your request.” his laugh came out empty.

The tree silently swayed above him, and the faerie sat up, crossing his legs.

“Can’t you help me out a little here? I’ve never been good at this stuff.” His expression turned somber. “Why did you leave all this to me?” A soft fist punched the tree trunk, then fell back down limply at the faerie’s side.

He flopped back on the grass again, sighing. Purple petals gently floated down, brushing by his cheek like the soft caress of a hand. The faerie closed his eyes like he could feel a phantom touch through them.

“I miss you,” he whispered, tears bubbling in his eyes. He sniffled a few times, then quickly wiped his eyes using his sleeve.

More Petals rained down from the tree and landed onto the grass, spelling out a word.

“Rosevale?” the faerie looked up, “Is that where he is?”

A breeze rustled the trees, and he groaned.

“You better be right this time,” the faerie dusted himself off and headed deeper into the cave.

He arrived at an expertly carved arch made of ice. He emptied the pouch into his hand and stuffed the contents into his mouth. His eyes flared a deep red, then the portal sputtered to life.

The faerie stepped out into the black forest, looking around, sunlight burning his eyes. After walking for a while, he arrived at a low wooden gate that bordered a cobblestone house covered in vines— Gunwook’s house.

The faerie approached the home, but an orange shield bounced him back from the front door. He looked through the bay window out front and noticed all the furniture was covered in sheets and dust.

He poked a scarecrow lodged in a strawberry bush, then sighed.

“Not here either.”

The faerie picked a handful of berries, then trudged back into the woods. The boy walked aimlessly, occasionally sniffing the air for anything strange. Leaves crunched nearby, and he darted behind a tree when he heard voices.

“This one will fetch a good price, I reckon,” a burly man wearing iron chains around his chest said.

The boy peeked out and sucked in a breath. Three men were carrying a large cage between them, which they set down nearby as they stopped to rest. The animal in the cage spotted him peeking when the men didn’t. It was a large grey dog with black bat wings and little pointed horns.

The dog’s dark eyes begged the young faerie for help, and its body was full of injuries—it was a fighter, like him. The faerie tried to look away; he was supposed to be on a mission.

“Let’s go, we’ve gotta drop this thing off and leave before midnight.” One of the men said, lifting the cage again.

The dog’s eyes bore into him even deeper as the men carried it further into the woods.

The young faerie followed the hunters to their cabin and was lurking outside, waiting for his chance. The log cabin was surrounded by wooden stakes, but no iron that he could see.

After a while, the three men finally came out with lanterns and walked off into the dark woods. With no sign of them returning, he snuck in, movements hindered by his old leg injury.

He searched the cabin top to bottom, but the dog was nowhere to be found. He saw the lanterns of the hunters in the distance and looked around, frantic.

There was a bark from underneath the floorboards, and he threw aside a ratty rug, revealing a cellar door. His eyes nervously returned to the approaching lamp lights, and he rushed downstairs.

A small window illuminated the damp cellar, and he crept forward cautiously. All kinds of sharp weapons hung from the walls, and a wooden table with iron shackles sat in the middle, covered in dark stains he didn’t want to guess the origin of.

The dog barked again, and he finally saw the cage near a shelf of jars that contained dead frogs and severed faerie parts. He pulled a dagger from his boot and began working on the lock, careful not to touch the iron. The door swung open, and the dog knocked him over, licking at his face.

“You’re welcome,” he said, dodging the forked tongue and giggling.

He heard footsteps and shouting upstairs.

The dog rushed over to the small window, and he followed. Using a tin bucket as a stool, the faerie slid the window open and hoisted the dog through.

The cellar stairs creaked under approaching footsteps. The dog tried to pull his sleeve through the tiny window, but he didn’t fit.

The faerie attempted to change himself into a smaller form, but he couldn’t control his magic, so rabbit ears just flopped out of his head.

“Go, get out of here,” he urged the dog, trying to keep his voice low.

The animal hesitated, dark eyes darting between him and freedom. The footsteps almost reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Go!” He shouted again in a deeper voice, eyes flashing red. The animal took off into the woods.

“Seems our tiny fish led us to a bigger one.” A man sneered from behind.

The faerie took a deep breath and turned, his eyes widening. The number of faerie hunters had tripled from three to nine.

They closed in on him, and that beast was scratching its way to the surface. Claws grew from his hands as he snarled, morphing into the only shape he knew— a monster.

He bared his fangs and lunged forward. None of these humans knew how hungry he truly was.

Screams floated through the night air, suffocated by the thick forest surrounding the cabin. A comet shot through the sky, and the full moon was a deep red that night. The screaming stopped.

Several hunters and a faerie went into that cellar, but only a beast emerged.

✧₊⁺🕯⋆.˚୨ৎ (っ҂ཀ•)っ

Gunwook reared back, and everything was black; the peach blossoms had vanished along with the rabbit. Only the fox remained by his feet, staring up at him with eyes he swore he recognized.

“Is that you, Matthew?”

The fox only tilted its head in response, then rubbed against his leg.

Maybe Gunwook was mistaken; he wasn’t certain about the identity of his fox guide, but he knew it could lead him back. He petted the fox behind the ears, and it leaned into his touch.

“Can you take me home?”

The fox yipped, and its tail started to glow from within.

A white light appeared in the distance, and they walked towards it together.

⊹₊⋆

He slowly opened his eyes and looked around. Sunlight still shone through the window, so he probably wasn’t asleep that long. There was a mess of blankets and pillows on the floor near the couch where he lay. A black swishing tail caught his attention.

Ricky stood over him.

“He’s back,” the elf shouted towards the kitchen.

Some blankets on the floor by his feet rustled, and a tangled mess of blonde hair popped up. Matthew smiled at him, fully healed.

Hanbin and Gyuvin poked their heads out of the kitchen. Then Hao and Jiwoong emerged from the study around the corner. Taerae hopped onto the couch, quacking at him happily.

“Finally,” Gyuvin smiled in relief, “sleeping for six days is your personal best.”

“Huh! What day is it?” Gunwook panicked, sitting up.

“Wednesday,” Hao answered, coming up behind the couch.

“My shifts!” Gunwook shrieked, shooting up from his couch.

“Easy,” Gyuvin pushed him back down,” I went.”

Gunwook squinted at him, “How? You don’t work at Glaze Craze. Can you even make a doughnut?”

“I can now. And, I went as you.” Gyuvin smirked, “We’ve been taking turns.” He gestured to the other faeries, “They wanted to make you employee of the month after Hanbin’s turn.”

Gunwook checked his phone and didn’t see any angry texts or emails saying he was fired. “Thanks? I guess.”

“What did you see in there?” Matthew prompted, tapping Gunwook’s thigh from the floor.

“A child…”

Gunwook suddenly recalled all the memories and rushed towards Hanbin.

“The child you healed!” He shook Hanbin’s shoulders, and the faerie looked confused as his head bobbed around.

“Gunwook, I’ve healed countless saplings; you need to give me more.”

“He loved peaches!”

Hanbin scratched his head and looked at Gunwook like he was a babbling madman.

“In the private ward, he’s related to a councilwoman.”

Jiwoong stiffened at that statement, but Hanbin shook his head.

“I’ve never healed a child under the council’s direct care.”

Gunwook frowned, then turned to Hao, desperate.

“You played for him and a blue faerie—Reverie of the birds!” Hao was looking at Gunwook just as lost as Hanbin.

“I don’t do private performances, are you sure you saw right?”

Gunwook was lost; was he mistaken? His dreams weren’t inaccurate as far as he knew.

He saw the pink pearls from his dream pierced on both Hanbin and Hao—it had to be true.

How come nobody could recall seeing this child?

He chewed his lip and looked at Ricky. It was like their memories had been stolen.

“Do you remember a rabbit creature attacking you?” He turned to Matthew.

The faerie nodded, “Of course! It was very scary.” he shivered, “I’ve never seen so many teeth.”

“Really!” Gunwook perked up, hugging the faerie. He wasn’t mistaken; he was seeing the whole truth.

“Yeah, Hanbin does too,” Matthew said, squished in Gunwook’s arms.

“Oh, that’s right,” Hanbin recalled, “it stole my gift for you.”

“That’s the child— or teenager, now I think!” Gunwook released Matthew and addressed the group again. “I believe that’s who we’re missing.”

“What did he look like?” Jiwoong asked, his eyes were stormy, pulsing bright red.

“He had like dark blue-black hair, pale skin, round eyes—like a bunny.”

“Do you know him?” Hanbin nudged Jiwoong’s arm.

“No.” Jiwoong’s tone was clipped, and the veins on his neck looked strained, like his throat was fighting to say something else— his eyes stopped flashing.

“Liar,” Matthew whispered, wrapping his arms around Gunwook again.

Jiwoong cleared his throat and turned to Hanbin, “If he stole a possession from you, then it can be tracked.”

Taerae retrieved a map of Rosevale from Matthew’s backpack and threw it on the coffee table. Gyuvin bumped a bowl of stew against his arm, and Gunwook started devouring it immediately.

Jiwoong pulled out a short knife and slid it across Hanbin’s palm, who didn’t even flinch, drops of blood fell onto to map. Jiwoong pulled a clear glass pen from one of the straps across his chest and scribbled runes over the forest. The markings glowed, then sank into the paper.

“Retrieve,” Jiwoong spoke to the blood that sat on the surface of the map.

Hanbin’s blood undulated, then morphed into butterflies that glided over the paper. They circled a zone deep in the woods with no landmarks nearby.

The butterflies landed, forming a huge ring around an area that wasn’t very specific. Ricky leaned over the map.

“This is a dead zone, last time I checked.” He pointed to the center of the blood ring. “Long ago, I saw a large group of faerie hunters roaming around here, but it’s been too risky for me to investigate it alone.”

Jiwoong’s brows knitted together, “Human iron alone shouldn’t disrupt the spell that much, perhaps the hunters have something else that’s jamming my magic.” He looked over to Gunwook. “Did you see anything else that might hint at the boy’s location?”

Gunwook was about to say peach blossoms, but those weren’t in the black forest.

“I’m not sure.”

Jiwoong anxiously tapped the table, “We’ll have to sweep the area then.”

Gunwook looked at the giant circle on the map and gulped—they were in for a long day.

The only consolation was that when they drew straws to split into pairs, he got Matthew.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

After walking around the forest for hours, nobody signaled that they had found anything; the forest was completely human and normal to the naked eye.

They rested on a fallen tree in the middle of the woods, midday sun slowly dropping behind the horizon. A bird landed on Matthew’s shoulder, and he sighed before it flew off again.

Matthew took a sip from a water bottle, and Gunwook watched stray drops of the liquid drip down the faerie’s throat.

He’d never been jealous of a water bottle before. Matthew handed it to Gunwook, and he drank, hoping to taste the faerie—but he just tasted flavorless water.

He sighed. Ever since they almost kissed, Gunwook wanted the chance to actually do it. However, in between all this craziness, he wasn’t sure the opportunity would present itself again— he’d have to create one.

“I think we’ve walked this area twelve times, but I don’t feel a thing.” Matthew interrupted his thoughts. “Not even the faerie hunters Ricky mentioned.”

Gunwook chugged more water, then threw it back in his satchel.

“I haven’t seen anything from my dreams either.”

Matthew stood, stretching his arms up. His shirt lifted, revealing a jagged scar near his belly button.

Without thinking, Gunwook ran a hand over the raised skin, frowning.

“Does it still hurt at all? We can rest longer if you need.”

Matthew gently patted his hand and smiled fondly.

“Hanbin told me once that scars are the physical manifestations of survival—proof of a life you fought to keep.” Matthew ran a hand over the scar, “I like to look at it like that, too.”

He rolled up his sleeve to reveal a faded line on his bicep, “This one I got when I first met Taerae.” He lifted his shirt further and pointed to a half-moon scar below his ribs. “And this one is from a drunken accident with Hanbin.” Matthew’s cheeks reddened. “That story isn’t as heroic, though.”

“I’d like to hear it anyway.” Gunwook smiled.

“What for? It’s just a silly story.”

“No reason. I’m just always interested in you, I guess.”

Matthew blushed, then turned away, clearing his throat.

“Well, if that’s something you want, I suppose I can tell you.”

Matthew recounted the tale, and Gunwook tried to be respectful, but he was in stitches by the end.

“Stop laughing.” Matthew hit his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Gunwook wiped a tear from his eye, “but you joined a slug cult,” he wheezed, “a-and don’t know whose shoe you ended up with.”

Matthew pouted at him, and Gunwook got himself under control.

“Is it weird I wanna try that cherry wine?”

“Yes,” Matthew shook his head, “Did you even listen to my story? I’ll never touch that stuff again.”

“That’s too bad,” Gunwook smiled, “I really wanted to see your wyrn impression.”

They were smiling at each other, then Matthew suddenly turned and stared off in the distance. He pushed up off the fallen tree.

“Taerae says we’re done for the day.”

A red squirrel and a brown squirrel climbed down from above, waiting at Matthew’s feet. “Tell Ricky and Hao we’re finished.” He turned to the red one, “Hanbin and Gyuvin, too, please.”

The squirrels saluted, and Matthew returned the gesture.

Gunwook watched the squirrels dash off like they were competing to fulfill Matthew’s request first. He got an idea.

“So you’re pretty competitive, then?” Gunwook grinned, remembering Matthew’s story.

“Some would say to a fault,” The faerie admitted.

Gunwook looked at the long trail home.

“Race you back?” he challenged.

“The prize?” Matthew quirked an eyebrow, fluttering his wings softly.

Gunwook searched his mind, but his eyes went to Matthew’s lips.

“A wish. The loser has to grant any request the winner wants.”

“You’re on.” Matthew flapped his wings, and Gunwook caught his wrist as he started to lift off the ground.

“On foot.” He clarified.

“Oh, It doesn’t matter. I’ll win either way.” Matthew winked.

“We’ll see.”

A strange energy pulsed through his body as Gunwook prepared to run.

“Go!” Matthew shouted, trying to get an early start.

But it didn’t matter, Gunwook’s body was being pushed forward by an inhuman force. He tore through the forest faster than he had ever moved before.

(‘ω’ ⊃ )⊃三二一 ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

Gunwook swiped a hand over the chimes by their front door, letting out a victorious shout. “I did it!” he cried in disbelief.

“You did.” Matthew responded, also in disbelief, arriving only a few steps behind him, panting hard. “You’re quite fast for your size,” the faerie scowled at Gunwook’s much longer legs.

“Better luck next time, shorty.” Gunwook walked back to ruffle Matthew’s hair.

“I would’ve won if you let me fly.” Matthew playfully whacked his chest

“That would be an unfair advantage.” Gunwook reasoned.

“So is having unnecessarily long limbs.” Matthew pouted, flapping his wings in annoyance. He reached over to smack Gunwook’s chest again, but he caught Matthew’s wrist and pulled the faerie closer.

Matthew was leaning against Gunwook’s chest, gazing up at him with a surprised expression.

“You owe me a wish,” Gunwook smirked. “Don’t be a sore loser and forget. I’d like to collect it soon.”

Matthew slowly nodded in response. He grabbed a fistful of the human’s shirt, and his eyes dropped to Gunwook’s mouth.

The front door swung open, and a shit eating grin greeted them.

“This was a search and rescue mission, not a date.” Gyuvin teased, opening the door wider for them to come in. Gunwook dropped his hand and walked inside, smelling something good. Matthew’s cheeks were red as he hurried in after.

The scent of beef hit Gunwook’s nose, and he sighed. He wasn’t used to having a home-cooked meal greet him upon arrival—all students lived on ramen noodles, it was a universal rule.

Everyone was in the living room eating, and two bowls were waiting for him and Matthew. He took a seat and learned that Jiwoong was apparently a wonderful cook. In the middle of stuffing himself, Gunwook noticed the giant stack of folded blankets and pillows by the old TV.

“Have you all just been sleeping together on the living room floor?”

“There isn’t exactly a surplus of beds in the house.” Hanbin smiled. “Plus, Hao was scared to sleep alone.” He snickered, snaking a hand around the man’s waist.

“Taerae says we snore in harmony.” Matthew smiled at Hao.

“That’s nothing compared to being kicked in the face.” Gyuvin glared at Jiwoong.

“Quibing, you sleep-talk about mangoes.” Ricky taunted, pointing his chopsticks at the faerie.

Everyone started lodging complaints about each other’s sleeping habits, but nobody ever suggested sleeping anywhere else.

Gunwook smiled as he looked around— he wondered if this was what it’s like to have a family.

They got washed up, and Gunwook changed into a fitted black shirt and sweatpants. He dried his hair and did a simple style. When he headed back downstairs, he saw two glass bottles of a dark red liquid on the living room table. Everyone was chatting on the couches. Gunwook started to approach them, but was yanked sideways by a long arm.

“I have a plan,” Gyuvin smiled manically, leaning in close.

“A plan for what?” Gunwook cringed; he didn’t like the look in Gyuvin’s eyes.

“For you to get with Matthew.” He whispered, peaking around the corner to make sure nobody was listening. “I’m sick of watching you look at each other like starving animals.

“No thanks, Gyuvin, I don’t want your help.” He pleaded, but the faerie seemed to have already executed his plan.

“Don’t worry, just trust me,” Gyuvin grinned, completely ignoring the rejection. “I’m sure he’ll confess to you.”

Gunwook groaned as Gyuvin pushed him towards the living room without another word. He caught Matthew’s eye, and the faerie smiled at him, clueless that Gyuvin had laid some kind of trap for them.

“Gunwook wants to go first,” Gyuvin announced, dropping six pieces of dice in his hands. Gunwook turned them over in his hand, one had the classic dots on it and the others had celestial shapes, like suns and stars on them. “what are we playing?”

“Cosmic whimpout!” Hanbin answered, spreading out a square cloth with a sun in the center bordered by ticks with numbers below them on the coffee table. “Just try to score as many points as you can, we’ll teach you the scoring as we go.”

“Think of the sun.” Gyuvin whispered, then went to sit beside Ricky.

Gunwook sat on the floor next to Hanbin, across from Matthew. The game began and he was apparently doing inconceivably well, as they took turns rolling.

“wow Gunwook, you’re so lucky.” Gyuvin remarked, “you’re a real natural at this.

Gunwook did his best not grimince as his friend was sending not so subtle winks at him.

Matthew on the other hand was doing horribly. Every time it was his turn, he was either not scoring any points or casting rolls that canceled all his points out. On the eighth round, Matthew apparently scored too many points causing him to ‘whimpout’ and be kicked out of the game. The upset fairy cracked open the bottle of red liquid and angrily drank from it. After the third glass, Matthew’s cheeks were flushed and his gazed was locked on the human across from him. Gunwook continued to score even better rolls and Matthew was glaring, still upset about losing their foot race.

“I want back in.” The faerie complained.

“You’ll have to defeat the current leader.” Ricky stated, pointing at Gunwook’s name on the score card.

“And drink if you lose.” Gyuvin added.

Matthew proceeded to challenge Gunwook to arm wrestling, thumb wrestling, a strange peanut smashing game, and in a last-ditch effort, actual wrestling. The faerie lost at them all— badly.

“He’s cheating,” Matthew whined over the glass of red liquid, clutching an aggravated Taerae like a pillow.

“It’s the slug bar all over again”, Hanbin grumbled.

Jiwoong was subtly trying to slide water at Matthew.

Several snacks plopped on the table.

“Why don’t we take a break?” Hao smiled.

They all ended up drinking, but Gunwook had much less. Apparently they were drinking that cherry wine Matthew mentioned and its effects were much more potent on humans. He watched everyone get drunker, until most of them could barely sit up.

Ricky moved to go somewhere, but Gyuvin latched onto his leg.

“Rik, where are you going? Don’t leave me again.” He pleaded.

“I’m using the bathroom.” The elf deadpanned, trying to shake Gyuvin off.

“I’m coming with you.” Gyuvin announced,“who knows what monsters could be in there.”

Ricky rolled his eyes, but let Gyuvin follow him away.

“I’ve never had this many friends before,” Jiwoong suddenly sobbed, then fell asleep in an arm chair, snoring loudly. Hanbin grabbed Matthew with a sentimental look in his eyes.

“Chu, you’re my baby, you know.” He rubbed his stomach, “you’ve grown up so well, I’m so proud of you. I love you!” He sobbed, rubbing their cheeks together, and Matthew hugged him back.

“Oh Hambinne, I would’ve died without you. You’re my hero. I love you more!” The two were squeezing each other tight, before flopping down and giggling.

“Hey, what about me?” Hao swayed, trying to keep himself upright. “I changed your bandages.”

Matthew draped himself over Hao. “You’re amazing too, you can also be my hero.”

Hao let out a huff of approval as he ruffled Matthew’s hair.

Taerae waddled by and Matthew’s eyes lit up. He took the bird into his arms next, peppering kisses all over the duck’s head as it quacked in protest.

“Taerae, I’d love you even if the curse turned you into a filthy worm.”

The duck honked and wiggled from the faeries grasp, purposely kicking over Matthew’s half empty glass.

“You can cuss all you want, I still mean it.” He smiled at the duck who curled up on pillow by Jiwoong’s feet.

Matthew continued the love fest, and eventfully crawled over to Gunwook. He snaked his arm around Gunwook’s neck and straddled his thighs.

He was about to say something when a raven with a red ribbon tied around its neck tapped on the glass outside, croaking loudly.

“Back again is it?” Gyuvin giggled, trying to wear Taerae as a hat.

“I don’t think It left.” Ricky added.

The raven croaked again and Matthew’s head whipped over,“what did you just call me!” He stood up on unsteady legs and marched towards the door.

The faerie rushed outside shouting obscenities. Gunwook looked around at everyone’s drunken state and decided that he was the only appropriate person to catch Matthew.

“May you have an itch but no nails!” Matthew cursed, shaking a fist at the starry night sky.

Gunwook chuckled, coming up on the grass behind him.

The faerie turned, then smiled brightly while rushing forward for an embrace.

“You always feel the best,” he sighed, nuzzling against Gunwook’s chest.

Gunwook was about to ask what he meant, but Matthew pulled back, darting over to a chain of short rocks lining the garden. He started trying to balance on top of them and walk forward.

“I bet I can stay up longer than you.” He challenged, already bobbing dangerously off balance.

Gunwook walked beside Matthew, flinching every time the faerie faltered. Matthew tripped on a stone and Gunwook caught his arm keeping him up right.

“Maybe you should get down,” he suggested.

Matthew stared at Gunwook.

“Still wanna see that wyrn impression?” he offered instead, ignoring the suggestion.

Without waiting for an answer, Matthew started to wiggle and sway while still trying to walk on the stones.

The movement being too much, he fell sideways, and into Gunwook’s open arms.

He gazed up, gripping at Gunwook’s shirt and started muttering something.

“…iss you.” Gunwook heard faintly.

“What was that? He leaned forward, holding the faerie closer.

“Wanna kiss you.” Matthew mumbled, staring at Gunwook’s mouth with desperation.

“I don’t think that’s advisable right now.”

Matthew was very drunk, and Gunwook didn’t want to take advantage.

The faerie scowled, then wiggled out of his arms and walked over to the tree Jiwoong fell out of. He leaned against the trunk and Gunwook heard soft weeping. He rushed over, desperate to clarify the misunderstanding.

“Matthew, I don’t mean you can’t!” He explained frantically, “I just meant we shouldn’t while you’re drunk.”

The faerie immediately stopped crying and turned to face Gunwook, wings fluttering.

“So we can, if I’m not drunk?”

Gunwook nodded, a slight blush on his cheeks. Matthew’s expression soured again, and he turned back to the tree, then started banging his head against the wood.

“Stupid cherry wine.” he pouted, “always ruining everything, now I can’t kiss wookie.” He continued to bang his head against the wood like that would sober him up.

Gunwook put his hand between Matthew’s forehead and the tree trunk.

“Stop hurting yourself.”

He chewed his lip, Gunwook wasn’t sure how they ended up with Matthew having to beg him for a kiss. He did hope for a chance earlier, and the moonlight garden with a warm summer breeze wasn’t the worst setting for a first kiss. He gently cupped Matthew’s cheek and turned the faerie’s face towards him.

“We can kiss now if you really want.”

His thumb brushed over the reddening area in the middle of Matthew’s forehead. “Don’t give yourself brain trauma and forget.”

An orange hue was swirling in Matthew’s eyes and his ears twitched with joy. Matthew lifted to his tippy toes and Gunwook leaned down, closing his eyes. The faerie’s arms wrapped  around his neck, and that intoxicating vanilla sweet hit his nose. Their lips faintly brushed, then Gunwook felt a thud on his chest.

Matthew had one arm slug over his shoulder and was leaning on him— sound asleep. Gunwook chuckled, and scooped the faerie into his arms. He planted a soft kiss on his forehead—foiled again.

Back inside everyone had fallen asleep, blankets and pillows haphazardly spread out the room. Gunwook walked over to the empty couch and tried to put Matthew down, but the faerie held tight around his neck, snuggling in deeper to his chest.

Gunwook settled into the sofa and let Matthew rest on top of him.

He managed to pull a blanket over them and sleep found him fast.

‧₊˚ 🥂⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Gunwook was in that dark space again, a fox was sleeping soundly in his arms. There was a blinding light and a comet shot overhead. The rabbit hopped out to greet him.

“Where are you?” he asked the animal. “We can’t find you.”

The rabbit hopped away and led him past the mushrooms and strange rocks again.

It kicked the ‘Dead End’ sign and they arrived at the peach blossoms once more. They walked a short distance and Gunwook saw that cabin from the memory but it was surrounded by a tall iron fence, the cabin within looked much more run down. Peach trees with twisted trunks surrounded the house, its fruit splayed on the tall grass below. The front gate of the fence had a ‘do not open’ sign stuck on it.

The rabbit had a mushroom in its mouth and threw it at the gate, then several bear traps snapped closed.

Gunwook sighed, it was going to be difficult to get through all that iron, and whatever other boobie traps might be hidden around.

Yet, they had to find this child, even if he wasn’t related to the curse.

“Anything else?”

Another comet shot in the sky, and soft music filled the space.

“Reverie of the birds.” a child’s voice whispered then he was left alone, holding a fox in the dark.

The animal shook awake and stared up at Gunwook, tail beginning to glow. That white light took him home.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

There was a loud rapping on his front door that pulled him awake. He sat up and gently moved Matthew off of him, as the knocking continued. Everyone else was still stuck in a drunken slumber and Gunwook did his best to tip toe around them. He quietly opened the door and three ravens were on his doorstep.

He recognized the one in the middle as the bird that insulted Matthew last night. The bright red ribbon shone in the morning sun and it held something in its beak. The raven stepped forward and dropped it at Gunwook’s feet.

He retrieved the item and frowned. It was the tackiest looking business card he’d ever seen, for a psychic called Aunty Doe.

The address put her in Rosevale and there was an appointment written down for that afternoon intended for him and ‘blondie’. There was only one blonde person in his house so he assumed the lady meant Matthew.

“What’s that?” Matthew’s voice startled him from behind.

“We have an appointment.” He said, showing Matthew the card.

“Who’s this fraud?” Matthew squinted at the card, and the raven squawked at him.

“If she owns you, she’s nothing but a frog oil salesman.” The faerie huffed.

Gunwook looked at the card again, then checked his phone.

“The appointment’s in an hour and a half.”

“We’re not entertaining this charlatan.” Matthew spat at the raven. “I don’t care if she’s been endowed with a gift!”

This was the most heated Gunwook had ever seen Matthew. He rubbed the faerie’s shoulder, trying to soothe the tension.

“Matthew, why can’t we at least hear her out? We don’t even know what she wants.”

“She probably wants her gift taken away,” he sighed, “they always do.”

“What do you mean?”

Matthew tapped on the card, “Clairvoyance is one of few gifts humans can receive from faeries as it only exhausts the mind and doesn’t require much training.” He motioned to Taerae who lay sleeping on a pillow. “The gift of foresight is not so strong in many faeries and is considered a secondary talent that manifests later in life. Through a series of tests, the council can determine the strength of your power and your potential. But in most cases, it’s weak, so faeries tend to pawn it off on some poor human.”

“Why would you give that away? It’s still their magic.” Gunwook frowned.

“Well, it would be annoying if you were chopping food, and suddenly foresaw your neighbour tripping on a rock, then cut your thumb off in the process. It’s not a helpful gift if you aren’t a potential keeper.”

“So you mean to tell me most psychics, mediums, or fortune tellers got left over fairy magic?”

“Most of them probably. But a good chunk of them go a little crazy—it’s not wise to pour magic into a body it’s not meant for, even if they ask for it.”

Matthew eyed Gunwook like you would when you saw a unique bug for the first time. “But in some rare cases, it’s a gift in return for a good deed or a debt owed, so it tends to sit better.”

Matthew didn’t say it directly, but Gunwook understood the implication that someone had stuffed their magic inside his body. This opened a whole new line of questions he did not want to seek an answer for before he had coffee.

“I’m not sure about this lady, though. She may not be of sound mind.”

The raven squawked again, pecking at the floor.

“I still think we should go.” Gunwook decided. If this Aunt Doe was like him, maybe she could explain his dreams.

He flipped the card over and saw an offer for free salsa lessons with every visit. His confidence in her sanity faltered, but still, he’d chosen to go.

𓆩⚝𓆪

Hanbin was slathering a cream all over Matthew’s face that looked like sunscreen. Gunwook checked his watch. Aunt Doe was a twenty minute bus ride from the town, and the appointment was in forty minutes.

He watched the pink-haired faerie fuss over Matthew, and tried to be patient, but they were cutting it close.

“You have your knife right?”

Matthew opened his mouth, but Hanbin cut him off, shoving another tin in his hand, “and take this, I don’t want to see a single scrape on either of you.” He walked up to Gunwook and applied that same blue goop on his cheeks, “You be careful too.”

Hao stepped forward, shoving a brown paper bag in his backpack.

“It’s for Lunch.” He clarified, patting Gunwook’s shoulder.

Gunwook eyed the bag worried. Hanbin once said Hao’s strongest skill was not cooking.

“Jiwoong made it.”

Hao pointed behind at the faerie who was seated at the table, sharpening a knife, and grinning with those sharp canines.

“Rik and I will be in town later if you need anything,” Gyuvin called from the couch, making slow, hungover arm movements. Ricky was still asleep on his shoulder.

“We’re not gonna die, Tae, calm down,” Matthew spoke to the duck, Hao held in his arms. “Are you complaining so much because you’ll miss me?” Matthew poked at the bird, who haughtily turned away.

Although the faerie was making jokes, they all remembered the attack, and even Gunwook was a little nervous to venture too far from everyone.

Jiwoong eyed Gunwook like he could hear the thought and walked over. His pricked his finger and pressed it into Gunwook shirt, a red butterfly pattern appeared on the fabric.

“We’ll keep an eye on you, don’t worry.” He said, taking a seat at the table again.

“You don’t have a phone?” Gunwook frowned at the blood stain on his t-shirt.

“I hate those contraptions. I recall when a simple bird would do the job.” Jiwoong shook his head in disgust.

“He doesn’t know how to use them,” Hanbin whispered to Gunwook. “Might as well ask a fish to climb a tree.” He snickered.

“Hambina, stop making jokes, they’re going to be late.” Hao reminded, but was also holding back a laugh.

They waved one last goodbye and made their way towards the city.

The bus ride was smooth, and Matthew kept pointing at random pedestrians, asking if they were the janitors Gunwook told him about. Gunwook did his best to explain public school to the faerie.

Arriving at their stop, Gunwook checked the card and found the building a few minutes away. They saw a red neon palm in the window at the top of the short building. The place was located above a small dance studio that was still dark inside. Matthew found a door on the side of the black brick building with a staircase that led up.

They pushed through a brown beaded curtain, and strange floral incense clouded the room. The space was dark except for the odd star-patterned curtain draped behind a circular table with a crystal ball in the center.

Matthew and Gunwook looked around, but the room seemed empty. A black shape flashed by Gunwook’s head and landed on a pedestal beside the table. The raven who delivered the card eyed them, then cawed loudly.

“You’re late.” A short woman announced, walking out of the darkness. She eyed Gunwook through golden half-rimmed glasses. “But what’s time to a boy like you, eh?” Aunt Doe chuckled.

Gunwook had expected an elderly lady, but Aunt Doe looked to be in her late forties and was wearing a flashy red salsa dress along with a moon-patterned shawl. She took a seat at the table and motioned for them to sit on the stools.

Aunt Doe was just staring at them, so Gunwook took the initiative to speak.

“Um, Aunt Doe, why did you call us here?”

“Wrong question.” She shook her head in disappointment. “That is not what you are seeking little boy.”

“I’m sorry, but that is what I want to know.” Gunwook was puzzled as Aunt Doe’s displeasure with him seemed to grow.

“Told you she’s a crackpot,” Matthew whispered.

“I heard that Matchstick.” Aunt Doe spat at the faerie

“It’s Matthew.” He corrected, ears twitching in annoyance.

“You’re a matchstick until you do your duties properly. You won’t be of any help to him at this rate.”

Gunwook wasn’t sure if Aunt Doe had invited them to scold them or help them. She was speaking in riddles neither of them understood.

Her eyes bounced between Matthew and him, and she seemed to realize how lost they were.

“Goodness, you have no idea what you are?”

“Of course, we do. I’m a snow faerie and he’s a weird human.” Matthew stated, looking very ready to leave.

“Blondie, you’re a guide.” She stroked the raven perched by the table. “Like my Clarence here.”

“Well I’m not a bird, and that name sounds terrible,” the bird squawked, and Matthew stuck his tongue out. “Plus, guides are only animals, lady.”

He stood up, tapping Gunwook’s shoulder, “told you this lady is a swindler,” He whispered, standing to leave.

“The white bird.” She pulled out a tarot card, revealing a collapsing spire burning at the top, and people jumping out of its windows while a storm raged in the background—the tower.

Matthew sat back down and gave Gunwook an incredulous look. Any mention of Taerae always swayed the faerie.

“He represents a change that is needed, a past that must be corrected in order to heal the future.” Aunt Doe slid a card in front of Gunwook, and he frowned. It was the fool.

A jester stood at the edge of the cliff, looking up at the sky, holding a white rose and a small sack, while a dog barked at his feet.

“A presence with little possessions that looms over the cards, belonging neither to the end nor the beginning.” She pointed to the zero at the top of the card. “He lives in the infinite.”

Aunt Doe’s voice seemed to grow and reverberate off the boundless walls of the dark space. “He exists for the future that is not always known, but can be shaped by his choices as long as he is mindful of his surroundings.”

She flipped over another card and looked at Matthew, “A steady soul, guided by a true heart. A child of the present, connected to and by all things—a bridge.”

The card read Temperance, and had an angel pouring water between two cups, with one foot in a pond, the other on land, depicted on its face. She placed a card labeled The world, above all three and then flipped it upside down.

“What do you see?” Aunt Doe asked Gunwook.

He stared at the cards for a few minutes and thought. He already knew the three of them were connected— but was that because of his world?

“Look at the whole picture,” she advised, frowning like she had read his thoughts and didn’t like what she saw. He examined the cards and tried again.

“Harmony— the world needs harmony.”

“Very good.” Aunt Doe smiled, patting his hand. She collected the cards and shoved them into a tin box.

Matthew seemed to be just as deep in thought as he was. What harmony could Aunt Doe mean?

Gunwook understood she was trying to tell him the world was broken, but he didn’t know what was wrong, or how to fix it.

Aunt Doe slid over a poster advertising a meteor shower for that weekend.

“You’ll want to collect the boy, during this time.” She announced plainly.

Matthew and Gunwook looked at each other in disbelief.

“I keep telling the mayor something’s howlin’ in that house, but does he listen? No— says there ain’t no house that deep in the woods anymore.”

“Aunt Doe, have you seen a blue-haired bunny looking teen around here!?”

“Wrong question again,” she sighed, pulling down her shawl to reveal large claw marks on her shoulder.

“On the last meteor shower when the veil was thin, I tried to help it, but whatever’s in there ain’t fond of humans, so I have my birds check in when they can.” She shrugged her shawl back on. “Not long ago, they noticed a mark on em’ just like the one on your neck.” She pointed to Matthew. “I figured you might be kin lookin’ for him.”

“Aunt Doe, where is the house?” Matthew interrupted.

“Quiet, Matchstick, I’m getting there.”

She pulled out an old news article with the cabin from Gunwook’s dream.

“That house used to belong to faerie hunters, the extra nasty sort that tricks magical beings using their own kind. But those types always get too big for their britches, too desperate to tame magic.” She produced more articles containing obituaries for several different people. “They shed too much innocent blood and cursed the land. The very forest itself cast the home into a space only accessible when the veil between worlds is thin.”

“You mean they killed so many faeries they created a cursed void?” Matthew asked in horror, and Aunt Doe nodded.

Matthew turned to Gunwook, “this kid is trapped in a feckin’ graveyard of corrupt magic!” he threw his arms up in resignation. “I’d rather the council just kill us instead.”

Aunt Doe’s expression was grim as she pointed more specifically on a map where the cabin should be, and Gunwook circled it on the pocket map he always kept on him.

“Gettin in is the easy part for faeries, it’s getting out that’s hard.” She eyed Gunwook, “You’ll have to save the beast on your own.”

Gunwook shifted in his seat, remembering the claw marks. That animal screaming in the dark echoed through him as well—was he alone enough?

“Stop doubting yourself. You are exactly what you are meant to be.” Aunt doe seemed to read his hesitation.

Gunwook nodded trying to convince himself, Matthew’s hand covered his and the faerie smiled brightly.

Aunt Doe pulled out a small notebook, and flipped towards the center.

“Excellent, now that we’ve settled that, I wrote some poetry about the mayor I’d like to share.”

Out of respect for the information she provided, Gunwook and Matthew politely sat there for two hours listening to a Aunt Doe complain about the mayor. By hour 3 she offered to teach them how to salsa, but the complains about the mayor still carried thorough the lesson.

Finally, after critiquing their foot work, Aunt Doe dismissed them. Matthew walked outside and Aunt Doe caught Gunwook’s arm before he left.

“Be careful where you wander and for how long, your mind can trap you if you let it.” she warned, “and if the trees fail you, look for the moon.”

He thanked her, having no idea what she meant, but he internalized the words anyway.

Meeting Matthew outside, they caught a late bus home. Gunwook once again had half the answers he needed, and not enough time.

Pushing through the front gate, his body relaxed as he stepped through the front door and smelt a fresh meal. Everyone was eating on the couches and laughing as they entered. Gunwook was still getting use to the feeling of so much warmth in the house. They sat down to share what Aunt Doe had told them.

“You’ll need basic training or the creature will eat you alive.” Jiwoong said firmly, looking like he was already planning something.

“That or he’ll lose a limb in one of those traps.” Ricky said grimly, avoiding eye contact.

“Perhaps I can go with him, I am half human. I can withstand some iron.” Hao announced, and everyone but Gunwook nodded like this was an obvious fact.

Gunwook’s shoulders slumped, he went to the gym when he could, but he had a feeling it would be of little help.

“We can all assist you in someway, don’t be scared.” Hanbin smiled, patting his shoulder.

“Yeah, it should be easy.” Gyuvin grinned, “if you fail to save the kid we all might die though— but no pressure.”

Ricky whacked Gyuvin’s shoulder, and Matthew frowned at him.

Gunwook felt that weight press on his shoulders again, they only had a few days.

But as he looked around, it was hope that bloomed inside his chest.

There was no other options but to push forward, like he had all his life—only now, he was not alone.

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

When he went to sleep that night, a cold wind blew through his soul and carried him into the past

Chapter Text

ROSEVALE

It was winter at the orphanage, a young Gunwook and Gyuvin were outside building a snowman. The other children pay them no attention.

Gunwook watched his younger self shiver and rub his hands together through thin gloves. Gyuvin observed the act and ran inside to search for another pair of gloves.

 The child was left shivering by the edge of the woods. A red flash darted through the trees, drawing the child’s focus. His younger self looked at the house, then back to the woods. Without another thought, the child ran into the forest.

Gunwook found he was able to move his legs, so he followed too. Reaching a small clearing, the red flash emerged.

It was a young elf dressed in all black—Ricky. Gunwook watched the elf approach his younger self with a cold, almost malicious demeanor— so unlike the way he was now.

“What are you?” The elf asked, in a sharp, biting tone.

“I’m Gunwook. Are you Ricky?” The child asked, not understanding the danger.

“Who told you my name!” Ricky spat back, already annoyed. “And I said what are you, not who.” The elf slipped a small dagger from his sleeve and pointed it at the child. “Now tell me what do you-”

“Is that real? ” Young Gunwook interrupted, rushing forward to inspect the weapon. “What kind of metal is that? It’s so shiny.”

Gunwook was a little embarrassed at his younger self for being so callous in the face of danger. But he was not a foolish child. The only reason for his curiosity must’ve been that he did not feel Ricky actually would harm him.

“Gyuvin said you were an elf, but I thought he was lying.” His young self tugged on Ricky’s tail, and the elf jumped away.

Several more knives began to hover around Ricky as he approached the child again. He grabbed a fistful of Gunwook’s scarf and threw him against a tree.

“This is not a game. Now tell me what you are, and your intentions with Quibing?”

“I’m a human.” The child responded, rubbing his shoulder that had crashed against the tree.

A dagger whizzed past young Gunwook’s face, lodging into the bark.

“Don’t lie.” The elf sent another dagger that grazed the child’s cheek. “There is magic in you, old magic you should not have.”

Gunwook was frozen in place, hands gripping the tree trunk, small chest heaving.

“I-I don’t…” The child was shaking, and tears were forming in his eyes. “I’m not..”

Another dagger landed in the tree, just above Gunwook’s head.

“Why does the book seek you?”

“I don’t know. Gyuvin told me not to touch it.” The child tried to stand up a little straighter. “You can have it, I don’t want it.”

Moving impossibly fast, Ricky loomed over the child who shrank down in terror.

“How will you get it?” Ricky interrogated, Knives haloed around him, pointed at Gunwook’s throat.

“I-I can feel it sometimes, it tries to call to me.”

“Where is it now?” Ricky pressed closer, icy blue eyes flaming.

“It’s gone.” The child gestured to the air, “Something is pulling it away.” The knives inched closer to his throat. “It’ll be back tomorrow, I think.” Young Gunwook blurted out, pupils shaking.

“Good, once you feel it, you will get it for me,” Ricky stated, not giving the child a choice. The elf’s ears twitched, and his gaze scanned the forest. “Do not tell Quibing.”

Young Gunwook only nodded slightly, trying to keep the blades from cutting him.

The elf disappeared into the woods with the daggers, and moments later, Gyuvin’s voice echoed in the trees.

“Gunwook! Where are you? please answer me.”

His younger self made a meek noise as he dropped into the snow, crying. Gyuvin appeared, and he immediately embraced the child, wiping the tears. Young Gunwook didn’t speak as Gyuvin helped him up, placing the extra gloves on his hands. Their small boots crunched in the snow as they walked away. Gunwook saw Ricky step back out into the clearing, eyes pinned on Gunwook.

The elf gripped a tree trunk as he watched them, and the bark shattered like glass under his hand. The children in the distance flinched at the sound of a falling tree and quickened their pace.

The young elf turned away, and Gunwook saw his eyes raging like a storm—promising all the violence of a hurricane. It made Gunwook shiver.

The forest darkened, and a fox was at his feet again. Gunwook looked down at the creature, more than ready to leave.

The fox seemed to understand this without any words and led him away.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆

Gunwook woke up in a cold sweat—is this what Ricky had tried to apologize for? It was certainly scary, but given what happened to Taerae, it seemed more like desperation than anything else.

He slowly shifted on the couch and felt a familiar weight on top of him. A blonde mess of hair was resting on his chest, sleeping soundly with his wings tucked in.

A smile naturally spread across Gunwook’s face. He hadn’t gone to sleep with Matthew, but he kept waking up with the faerie anyway. He also felt the soft brush of Taerae’s feathers by his head.

Sitting up, he cradled Matthew close to his chest so the faerie could remain sleeping. Hao and Hanbin greeted him from the dining room table behind the couch, sipping coffee. He saw Ricky and Gyuvin outside in the garden watering the plants, while Eumppapa chased a butterfly. The sweet smell of cinnamon wafted through the house, and the gentle clink of a wooden spoon against a pot told him Jiwoong was cooking breakfast.

Gunwook felt his heart swell with immeasurable joy. Everyone had so naturally fallen into rhythm together, like they had always known each other—like a family.

Matthew‘s arms suddenly wrapped around him, and he pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Good morning, Gunwookie!” He smiled, wings fluttering open.

Gunwook rubbed his cheek, looking around, embarrassed. 

“It’s a normal faerie greeting,” Hanbin explained, seeing Gunwook’s bewildered expression.

“For lovers, maybe.” Hao snorted, taking another sip of coffee. “If you greet anyone but me like that, I’ll cut your lips off.” He glared at Hanbin.

“No worries, my love,” Hanbin chuckled, then took Hao’s hand, pressing his lips to the delicate knuckles. “My lips are only for you.”

“Ugh, gross. Get a room.” Gyuvin teased, walking in with a basket of ripe tomatoes.

“Gunwookie, me too.” Matthew shoved his hand in Gunwook’s face, eyes shimmering.

He blinked in surprise, then gingerly took the faerie’s hand—was this a normal faerie greeting, too? 

Taerae suddenly pushed between them, honking at Matthew. The faerie laughed, pulling his hand from Gunwook, and planted a kiss on the duck’s head. “Good morning, Tae.” He said softly, grinning fondly at the bird.

“You hateful chicken, you ruined a perfectly good moment.” Gyuvin tried to remove Taerae from Matthew’s lap, still holding a basket of fruit. 

The duck’s beak snapped at his fingers, and Gyuvin stumbled back, bumping into the dining room table. Hao hissed as coffee splattered on his shirt and tomatoes scattered everywhere, one hit Gunwook in the head. Ricky’s magic chilled the room as Taerae began floating up towards the ceiling, honking furiously.

“Stop trying to bite Quibing.” Ricky sighed, “It’s the fourth time this week.”

“Ricky, put him down!” Matthew stood up, trying to reach the bird. “He doesn’t like to be put in air prison; he’s sensitive!”

The duck’s throat began to glow as the room heated.

“No fire in the house!” Hanbin shouted, pushing up from his seat. “I’m tired of fixing holes every time there’s an argument.”

“Who’s hungry?” Jiwoong announced, wiping off his hands as he entered the room.

His eyes landed on the floating bird after surveying the messy living room. “Tried to bite Gyuvin again, did he?”

Ricky nodded, lowering the bird.

“What are we having?” Gunwook asked, taking in that sweet cinnamon scent again.

“A warrior’s breakfast, “Jiwoong grinned widely, sharp canines on full display.

It was porridge mixed with ingredients Gunwook was told it was best he never knew—it did give him energy.

 ⋆˙⟡⋆˚꩜｡

It was the first day of Gunwook’s training, and he was excited and terrified. Everyone wanted to watch and support him, but they did not have enough outdoor seating. 

So, after a quick stop into town, and Hao very generously offering his black card again, they were all seated on various colourful lawn chairs purchased at the dollar shed and wearing different shaped sunglasses.

Gunwook stood in the middle of the yard, clutching a wooden training sword. Jiwoong faced him with the same weapon, although it looked much more deadly in his grasp. He had taught Gunwook the basics all morning, but he was struggling to defend properly.

“When learning to guard.” Jiwoong surged forward, quicker than lightning, “Try to think of something you’d never want to lose.” The wooden sword slammed down hard on Gunwook, who parried and pushed the faerie back.

 “There’s plenty I wouldn’t like to lose.” 

The pain of seeing his home burnt to ashes still lingered in his mind.

“Try to focus on one thing, it will drive you,” Jiwoong said, rushing forward.

Gunwook thought about not wanting to lose his own life to the curse and readied his body for another attack. The faerie struck hard, but Gunwook was just as fast.

Gunwook smiled, having properly blocked the blow for once. 

“Ouu,” his friends all exclaimed at once, as they munched on various snacks.

 “You must not fear losing your life in combat,” Jiwoong frowned at him, somehow reading his thoughts. “Your center is wide open again.” The faerie spun back and kicked Gunwook in the chest, sending him tumbling backwards on his ass. “Your something is not there.”

“Ohhh.” The chorus of spectating faeries said in unison. Clapping wildly as they watched Gunwook roll backward several times. Some of them giggling.

This happened numerous times before Gunwook was struggling to push himself up, and settle on one thing to defend—he thought his own life wasn’t that bad, but apparently, it wasn’t enough.

A particularly hard blow threw Gunwook back towards the strawberry bushes. He groaned from the grass, unsure if he could move anymore.

“Gunwook, don’t worry about breaking anything, I’ll fix you right up!” Hanbin shouted, patting the medicine bag next to his tri-coloured lawn chair.

“Loosen your shoulders more,” Ricky added, sipping on a drink with a fake umbrella in it. Taerae seemed to quack in agreement from his pink child-sized folding chair next to the elf.

Matthew rushed over with a bottle of water and helped Gunwook sit up. “You okay? We can take a break. You’ve been at this for a while.”

“I’m alright, it’s important that I learn this,” He smiled, letting Matthew pour water into his mouth.

Without warning, Jiwoong charged forward, aiming a blow at Matthew. On instinct, Gunwook’s arms shot out to block the attack as he shifted Matthew behind him.

“What the hell? I didn’t say I was ready.” Gunwook spat, pushing the faerie back, taking a defensive stance in front of Matthew.

Jiwoong smirked and lunged forward, aiming for the faerie behind Gunwook. He blocked the blow again. Jiwoong tried to kick him, but this time, Gunwook caught the foot, knowing that if he fell back, Matthew would be hurt.

Gunwook defended a barrage of attacks with almost perfect form, some inhuman force driving his muscles to reach his goal and protect the faerie behind him.

“There’s your something,” Jiwoong whispered close to Gunwook’s face, eyeing Matthew and dropping his sword.

Gunwook blushed a bit at the realization that he’d just worked harder to protect Matthew’s life than he did his own. Matthew stood patting Gunwook on the shoulder and smiling. 

“I think you’re starting to get the hang of this!” He grinned, oblivious to the fact that Gunwook was only performing so well to protect him.

“Now we move onto steel,” Jiwoong called from across the yard, fishing real swords out from a tree, bumping his head on the trunk. “Matthew, please stand beside me.”

The faerie walked over to Jiwoong, looking confused.

“Did you need me to move a tree or-” Matthew’s breath hitched as Jiwoong snaked an arm around his waist, pinning him to his side. He tossed a sword at Gunwook’s feet, then held up his own.

“What are you doing now?” Gunwook felt something flaming in his body at the sight, and his rage only seemed to please Jiwoong. The faerie pulled Matthew a little closer to him.

“Now, you try to take him from me.” Jiwoong grinned. Matthew anxiously looked at Jiwoong, then back to Gunwook.

“Popcorn, Gyuvin, the popcorn!” Hao shouted as Gyuvin rushed back to his chair, handing the other faeries and Taerae a bowl.

Gunwook moved forward, anger clouding his tactical skill—Matthew was not a thing.

Jiwoong sidestepped the attack easily, and when Gunwook swung again, the faerie pushed Matthew forward like a shield. Gunwook barely averted his swing, and his sword got stuck in the grass.

“You can do it, Geonwookie!” Gyuvin cheered, stuffing a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

Gunwook lifted his weapon again and briefly glanced at Matthew, who sent an encouraging smile back. Jiwoong spun Matthew out of view, then pointed his sword at Gunwook.

“You let your emotions lead you too easily.” Jiwoong chuckled, batting away another blow. “Don’t let them consume you, let them fuel you.”

Gunwook tried to calm his mind, but the only thought in it was that he needed Jiwoong to stop touching Matthew. Effortlessly defending against Gunwook and knocking him to the ground, Jiwoong sighed.

“This is good enough for now. We’ll try again later.” He released Matthew, and the faerie rushed over to Gunwook.

The faerie whispered soothing words to him, but Gunwook was glaring up at Jiwoong from the ground, possessively hugging Matthew closer to him.

Without his knowledge, Jiwoong had dragged one of his biggest fears out and dared Gunwook to conquer it, but he had failed.

Gunwook vowed in that moment to be stronger, so nothing could ever be taken so easily from him again.

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

They settled inside for lunch and began planning on how to rescue their missing member. The void where the faerie was trapped was explained to Gunwook like serrated animal teeth.

They sank into you very smoothly, but once you tried to get out, the jagged edges latched onto your magic, and it was only with flesh-tearing brute force that you could maybe escape.

Humans, having little to no magic for the void to lock onto, walked much more comfortably in between these spaces, often not even realizing they had done so. This, of course, only happened under the right conditions, like the upcoming meteor shower.

The showers’ peak would only last three hours, so Gunwook and Hao would have to be quick, and they even made a backup scheme to simply drag the faerie out of the void if he was unwilling. With some semblance of a plan to save the lost child, they fell into a pattern over the following days.

Gunwook would wake up with Matthew on his chest and Taerae by his head. Jiwoong would make his strange energizing porridge, then spend the afternoon kicking his ass, and cackling with Matthew in his arms. Ricky, on occasion, would fling items at him, claiming Gunwook needed to be alert at all times in the void. One day, Gyuvin took him to a preschool, stating Gunwook should practice talking with kids—they were almost reported as predators. And Hao actually seemed very relaxed. He spent a good chunk of the day listening to Gunwook’s worries and fears, while Hanbin healed his training injuries.

Faster than he hoped, the day arrived. Jiwoong had kindly only kicked Gunwook over twice, instead of ten times that morning, and they spent the rest of the day drilling Gunwook until the plan was his only thought.

As the moon rose high in the sky, they ventured deep into the woods where Aunt Doe had directed them. Gunwook noticed as they approached that those strange mushrooms and rocks began to appear, and a deep fog started to cloud their way.

“We’re here.” Gunwook announced, pointing to a ‘Dead End’ sign that peeked out of a much thicker mist that blanketed the whole area. The dense clouds seemed to stretch on for miles in either direction you looked.

The hour was almost upon them and everyone was doing last-minute checks. Jiwoong made sure the sword was fastened tightly to his hip, and Hanbin was shoving extra bandages into his bag. Gyuvin smoothed out his hair and made sure Gunwook’s necklace was secure. Ricky held Taerae as he quacked at Gunwook.

“Taerae said, don’t die or I’ll kill you.” Matthew translated as he tightened Gunwook’s cloak, gifted to him by the bird.

After everyone inspected Gunwook, they all stood watching the sky, waiting for the first comet to fly through it. While everyone was looking up, Matthew caught Gunwook’s hand and kissed the palm. A faint mark glowed within.

“Remember your compass.” He smiled at Gunwook, then returned his gaze to the stars, but their hands remained intertwined. The first comet blazed through the stratosphere, signaling that the peak hour had begun. Hanbin tipped a small hourglass upside down and attached it to Hao’s belt. “Come back to us before the sands run out.” He said softly, squeezing Hao tightly.

Gunwook gripped his backpack straps and took a deep breath. Hao stepped up beside him, giving a reassuring smile, adjusting the violin bag strapped across his back. As they stepped forward past the sign, a raven with a red ribbon around its neck cawed at him from atop it.

“You are exactly what you are meant to be.” Aunt Doe’s voice echoed in his mind.

Gunwook nodded at the bird, feeling Aunt Doe’s encouragement. He took Hao’s hand and stepped into the dark clouds—ready to save a life.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Gunwook didn’t know what death smelled like, but he assumed this was it. Their footsteps seemed to echo off the hollow space, and a decaying grey grass crunched beneath their boots.

Just like in his dream, Gunwook followed the mushrooms and rocks, and when they disappeared, he moved forward with a feeling in his chest that told him the faerie was close by. 

The space seemed to stretch on endlessly as they pressed into the darkness. They walked over what Gunwook assumed was a hill, and a dark shape loomed on the horizon. The iron gate with its tall, thick bars surrounded the cabin.

A dark and heavy energy seemed to be swirling around the house; only the soft glow of moonbeams illuminated the space. They approached slowly, examining the gate for a way to slip in.

“These were once people.” Hao shivered as he ran a hand over the dark wood of the twisted tree trunk.

Gunwook stepped closer to the peach tree, and within its bark seemed to be faces locked in a perpetual scream. 

A peach dropped from the tree behind the fence, and a bear trap snapped shut. They shared a look, and Gunwook shrugged off his bag, pulling out some bolt cutters.

He eyed the hourglass on Hao’s hip, and it had taken them almost an hour to walk here, which means it would take them an hour to return.

 They didn’t have much time to find this child and convince him to come home with them. Gunwook cut the lock, and Hao tugged him back as iron arrows whizzed past his shoulder and lodged into the grass behind.

“Thanks,” He said, breathlessly. Hao sent him a quick smile in return. 

Something roared from within the cabin, but no creature emerged. Gunwook unsheathed his sword and poked it at the grass as they walked towards the house. Reaching the foot of the stairs, Hao’s hand clamped onto his shoulder.

“Don’t move.” He said sharply, his eyes glowed pale pink, looking around the darkness. He pulled a healing tin from Gunwook’s backpack and tossed it a few inches in front of his boot. A carpet of thick spikes shot up from the ground.

“Can you hear all these traps?” He asked Hao, in awe of the sharpness of his senses despite being only half fae.

“Everything has a rhythm.” He shrugged, “My violin teacher said it once, and I always felt it was true.” 

Gunwook nodded, wondering if his human ears would ever become attuned to such vibrations. 

As they pushed through the front door, Gunwook heard the creaking of wire, and he froze. Looking down, he saw a trip wire faintly glowing in the moonlight.

He smiled back at Hao and stepped over it. Thankfully, it seemed there were fewer traps in the house as they searched for the boy.

 Gunwook remembered the cellar from his dream and located a very blood-stained rug.

“Hao, he’s probably down here,” Gunwook said excitedly, lifting the cellar door.

 “Don’t-” Hao lunged forward and knocked Gunwook away as a tall iron cage fell from the ceiling around him.

“Hao!” Gunwook scrambled from the ground, pushing at the bars. A complicated lock held the cage door tight.

Gunwook began to reach for the bolt cutters, unsure if they could break the lock. The hourglass showed they had forty minutes to find the boy.

“Go find him.” Hao sighed, pulling a pouch containing several different picks from his belt. “I can get myself out.”

“But Hao, it looks complicated.” Gunwook anxiously watched the faerie begin to jiggle a pick inside the latch.

“Everything has a rhythm,” Hao repeated, as he pressed his ear close to the lock, listening to its click. “I’ll be fine, go.” He waved Gunwook off. 

Gunwook nodded and turned to open the cellar door. The wood groaned under his feet as he made his way down the steps. The basement was cold and damp, and only the softest touch of moonbeams illuminated the space. He spotted white ears and a tiny form huddled in the corner, surrounded by peaches.

 “Hello?” Gunwook called, gingerly stepping forward. The little child growled, then turned and sniffed the air.

“Sister!” he shouted, throwing the half-eaten peaches down and running over to hug Gunwook’s leg. The little faerie looked no older than eight and had floppy rabbit ears poking out of his head. 

“Sister, I knew you wouldn’t leave me here.” He cried, clinging tighter to Gunwook’s leg.

“Me?” Gunwook pointed to himself, “Am I your sister?” he asked, squatting down to look the boy in the eyes.

“Of course! Sister, it’s me, Yujin. Don’t you recognize me?” The little boy stared up at Gunwook with such innocent eyes that he really didn’t want to tell him otherwise.

“Yujinnie, I’m not your sister, but maybe we could find her together.” Gunwook offered, patting the child’s head. The little faerie batted his touch away and stepped back.

“You smell just like her.” He said, shaking his head, “If you’re not her, then you ate her.” A much deeper voice boomed from the little faerie as his body seemed to grow, and he hunched over on all fours.

“Where is she!” He shouted as his body contorted and expanded into a snarling bunny creature, sharp claws scratching against the cement floor.

Gunwook slowly drew his sword as he stepped back towards the stairs.

“Hao, how are you doing with that lock?” He shouted upstairs, knowing they had to move to their backup plan of taking the faerie by force.

“Pretty well, actually. Should be done any minute.” Hao called back, faint clinking echoing through the house.

Yujin’s red eyes were locked on Gunwook as he prowled closer.

“I think you should stay in the cage,” Gunwook said quickly, almost at the stairs.

“Did you upset him?” Hao replied flatly, clearly hearing heavier footsteps. “What’s his name? Maybe I can reason with him.”

“It’s Yujin.” Gunwook gulped, one foot on the staircase. Yujin stalked after him, waiting for his back to turn, teeth barred in a snarl.

“Yujin, we’re here to help you.” Hao’s soothing voice stole the beast’s attention for a moment. Gunwook rushed up the stairs, feeling the breeze of jaws snapping at his heels. Gunwook crashed through the cellar door and ran towards the front door.

“I’ll distract him, try to get out as quickly as you can.” He called over his shoulder to Hao. 

Moments later, Yujin burst through the floor, spotting the cage containing Hao. Gunwook clanked his sword against the ground outside, holding a tranquilizing powder that Gyuvin taught him to make behind his back. They had planned for this. Gunwook just had to stay calm until Hao was free.

The bunny monster rushed out into the yard, charging at Gunwook. He dodged just like Jiwoong had taught him. Minutes felt like hours as he evaded critical blows, but Yujin was fast, and a swipe from his claws caught Gunwook’s arm, tearing open flesh. He dropped his sword and rolled away before Yujin could squash Gunwook under his paw. His uninjured hand still held tight to the powder, waiting for an opening to use it.

He panted as Yujin seemed to have infinite stamina, but Gunwook was running out, and he didn’t think the beast would let him pause to drink one of Hanbin’s potions. Yujin lunged again, and Gunwook dove for his sword, forcing his left hand to hold it up.

 The beast’s teeth shattered the blade and clamped onto Gunwook’s arm, biting into the already exposed flesh. Gunwook cried as he gritted his teeth, feeling bone-crushing jaws around his arm.

Then, suddenly, his wrist began to glow. The golden bracelet the shrub grandmother gave him glittered and materialized on his wrist. The rubies within the gold band began to shine, and Yujin reared back as if hit by an invisible wind. He slammed against the iron gate, slumping to the ground.

Hao finally rushed outside, looking at Gunwook in horror as he helped him sit up. He did his best to give Gunwook some quick first aid, but his arm was broken in at least two places.

Yujin began to shake awake again and stood, walking towards them. Hao pulled out his violin and quickly cleared his throat. A soft melody filled the dark space as Hao sang, ‘Reverie of the Birds’, delicate fingers crafting a perfect melody. The air rippled and changed its flow as Hao played, and the space seemed a little brighter. Yujin’s pace slowed as he moved towards them, body shrinking and morphing.

What reached them was a little boy with rabbit ears, trudging forward on tired legs. Gunwook lightly sprinkled the powder over the faerie that landed in his lap, and Hao finished the song.

“Does he have to die, sister?” Yujin whispered, heavy eyes looking up at Gunwook.

His form shrank again into a small rabbit before Gunwook could question the little boy. Hao scooped the rabbit up and helped Gunwook stand.

“We have to go,” he announced frantically, pointing to the hourglass.

They had a little over an hour to return, but Gunwook was in bad shape and, even with Hanbin’s potion, couldn’t run with a broken arm.

They moved through the darkness as fast as they could, Hao anxiously checking the hourglass as he encouraged Gunwook forward. Gunwook eventually had to lean on Hao for support as they neared the exit.

“Almost there, just a bit further.” Hao smiled, trying to hold Gunwook and cradle Yujin.

Seeing the sign and the silhouettes of their friends beyond the mist, Gunwook smiled.

Something tugged at his ankle, and Gunwook was yanked backwards from Hao’s grasp by dark tendrils.

“Gunwook!” Hao shouted, sounding very far away as he was pulled down into the blackness.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 𓌹𔓎𓌺

The darkness was quiet and boundless. It had no end and no beginning. Gunwook felt no solid ground anyway as he floated. He wasn’t sure if he was up or down.

A light began to shine below him, and he turned towards it, seeing his younger self trudging through a winter wood at dusk, very far from the orphanage.

Gunwook was slowly plopped into the vision and followed the child. He arrived at a pond, one he knew all too well. It was the pond he had played in with Matthew, and the one where Ricky returned his memories. The child stood on the dock looking around.

“Ricky?” young Gunwook called out to the forest.

The young elf emerged from the trees. Red hair in stark contrast with the white landscape, like a single drop of blood against the snow.

The elf arrived beside Gunwook, only slightly taller.

“Where is it?” He asked, not even sparing Gunwook a glance.

“It will be there soon.” Gunwook pointed to the middle of the icy pond. The child turned to leave, but Ricky caught his arm, glaring.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He held the child in place, gripping with much more force than necessary.

“The book will be there,” young Gunwook responded, wincing at the tight hold. “Just go get it and leave me alone.”

“It will follow you if you leave you, imbecile.” Ricky’s eyes glanced sideways, and he smirked, then flung Gunwook off the dock onto the ice below. “Now go get it.” He commanded.

The child tried to stand, slipping a few times as the ice crackled below him.

Gunwook stepped closer to the edge of the pond and watched his younger self wobble across the ice towards The Tome of Unknowns, which now sat at its centre.

“Don’t,” Gunwook whispered to himself.

 Somewhere deep within his soul, he knew that this moment had changed his life forever. He rushed onto the ice, forgetting he was in a memory. Pausing before his younger self, the child held the book in his arms, but was staring down at the ice. 

The little boy knelt over and cleared the snow away, looking deep into the frozen lily pads below. Something gold was shining under the surface, hidden at the bottom of the lake. Dark shapes sputtered below, and the ice suddenly broke under the boy, then he was pulled into the lake.

Ricky rushed over to the hole and plucked the book from Gunwook’s hands, but made no move to help the drowning boy.

The elf simply hovered over him with glowing blue eyes— watching. The ice slowly started to close the hole, as the child sank deeper.

“Help him!” Gunwook shouted at a young elf who could not hear him.

Ricky stood observing Gunwook drown like a storm sweeping through a town, unbothered by which houses got knocked over by its strong winds.

Gunwook remembered who Ricky was at this point in time, and the scars that were hidden beneath those gloves, and all the time he spent locked in a cave.

Ricky had been raised like a true dark faerie. Not unkind or cruel, but indifferent. It didn’t seem to occur to him to help.

His expression was bored and seemed to convey that if Gunwook wasn’t strong enough to pull himself out, then he should not survive.

There was a faint pink glow from the water, and Gyuvin burst through the trees, searching for the light. He spotted the light below the surface and the elf floating above it, his eyes began to flash a golden hue.

“Quibing.” Ricky smiled, completely ignoring the drowning child below him. Gyuvin dashed across the ice, screaming Gunwook’s name. He glared at Ricky as he arrived.

“What have you done?” He shouted at the elf, who reared back in surprise.

Gyuvin shrugged off his coat, punched a hole in the ice, then dove into the water without a second thought.

In that exact moment, something in Ricky’s very nature shifted before Gunwook’s eyes. He watched the elf drop to the ground, face painted in terror. Ricky’s eyes burned an icy blue, and magic rumbled the ice.

Invisible tendrils snaked into the water, and he pulled the two boys out. Gyuvin was coughing up water while he gripped Gunwook tight to his chest.

Ricky covered Gyuvin in his jacket and shouted, “Why would you do that for this lying little-”

Gyuvin’s glare silenced the elf.

“Make us forget,” Gyuvin said softly.

“What?” Ricky dropped beside Gyuvin, trying to plead his case, “Quibing, I’m sorry. Please, you don’t understand-”

“I don’t need to understand anything, Ricky! Make us forget this stupid book.” He shouted, tears clouding his eyes. He clutched Gunwook closer to his chest. “Please, Rik. I don’t want him hurt again because of this. It’s the least you can do.”

Ricky clutched at something in his pocket before sighing and standing.

“If that’s what you wish.”

Ricky removed his gloves, and Gyuvin’s eyes widened at the scars.

“Rik, what happened-” The elf’s hand pressed against his forehead, and Gyuvin slumped over.

After a few moments, Ricky did the same to Gunwook. Using his magic, he floated them back to the edge of the pond, gently setting them down in the snow.

Ricky sat at a distance from them, watching the sunset, silently. The elf took a withered flower ring from his pocket and buried it in the snow with a somber expression. After a few moments, he sighed and drew a strange sigil in the snow around the sleeping children. Then, with a small chant, they disappeared.

Gunwook rushed into the circle to follow them, falling deeper into the darkness.

The Tome of Unknowns silently dropped into the water, and the ice quickly closed over it, as if nothing had happened.

⋆⁺₊❅.

Gunwook was trying to run towards a non-existent exit. Aunt Doe was right. He allowed this memory to trap him here too long.

This cursed space had reached deep into his mind and showed him something he couldn’t resist seeing to keep him stuck there forever. He wasn’t sure how much time he had left or if the meteor shower had ended, but he had to try. 

His arm was in excruciating pain, and dark shadows seemed to be tugging at him as he tried to move forward. Gunwook began to feel that he was ascending upwards, and heavy shadows were pulling him down. 

Using one arm, he started to claw his way up as the darkness crept over him. His hands felt damp soil as he pushed to the surface. A misty fog covered the area, and he saw familiar grey grass.

He climbed out of the hole using his good arm and began to walk. He was not sure where he was; he did not see any mushrooms or rocks.

“Hao!” He shouted, but all that responded was his echoes. 

His palm began to glow, and the symbol Matthew had told him was a compass pierced through the mist. Several trees began to light up with the sigil, and Gunwook followed.

As he moved, the mist began to thin, and he saw shapes dancing on the edge of the tree line. 

It wasn’t the outlines of his friends, but two smaller forms and one adult one. He moved towards them, ignoring the burning on his palm, urging him to continue on his path.

Emerging from the clouds, he stepped out into the sunny black forest, but he was not in his own time.

Gunwook knew this because he was looking at a man his soul knew was his father, playing with two children—Gyuvin and Gunwook.

༄.°⏳✶⋆

Chapter Text

ROSEVALE

‘Love leaves a memory no one can steal. ’ Gunwook had read this line in a book once.

The words hadn’t really resonated with him until now. Even though he’d never seen this before, the scene did not feel brand new. His home was as he knew it, but also not. There were roses in the front garden instead of vegetables.

He watched himself toddle around the yard, no older than five. Gyuvin had small antlers poking out of his head and glowing yellow eyes full of mischief; neither young Gunwook nor his father seemed to care. The three of them joined hands and slowly turning in a circle, repeating a song that sounded made up.

Mama’s in the stars

Gyuvin’s from the trees

Papa sews then scars

Little Gunwook dozes

And we all fix the roses

The sun shone on their faces as the three of them spun, gazes dripping love, repeating the song like a spell. The sight was so peaceful, he didn’t want to know what happened next. It almost felt cruel that he had stepped out into this time, this exact moment.

Gunwook wanted another beast to appear and swallow him whole. But the only monster here was a memory that was tearing at his soul with soft hands and a warm smile. The man—his father, was exactly how he dreamed. Tall and dark-haired like Gunwook, with a charming gummy smile.

He hoped his mother would appear as well so he could see what features he had inherited from her, but only the three of them played in the yard. He stood there watching, clutching at his broken arm to remember that he was real and just visiting.

Yet, he felt like a ghost haunting himself. This was a time he could never return to, and a man he had longed for his whole life.

His father and Gyuvin started pretending to try their best to chase him. His child self turned to them and held his arms out, making fake blasting sounds. His father feigned injury and collapsed onto the grass, then Gyuvin did the same.

Little Gunwook ran over and flopped onto his father, attempting to wrestle with him. Gyuvin joined as well, trying to aid Gunwook. The battle dissolved into a tickle fight as they all laughed, and his father held them both close to his chest.

The sound hit Gunwook like a ton of bricks; the pain in his arm felt like a joke compared to the feelings that were currently clawing at his heart. He’d never heard his parents laugh or seen their faces; he had never even tried to picture it.

The thought of his parents always pained him. Gunwook lived his whole life believing he was abandoned and had been dumped at the orphanage the moment he was born, but what he was seeing told a very different story—maybe he was not given up by choice.

Curiosity pushed his body closer to the house, but he hovered outside the gate as he couldn’t bring himself to step any further. Every orphan dreams of this: seeing their parents, knowing they were not unwanted.

The three of them approached the rose garden near the front gate, all holding various garden tools. His father came into full view, and all Gunwook could do was stare. He always wondered who he resembled more; he knew now it was his father. He saw it so clearly as the man pulled his younger self in for a tight hug, before directing the children to prune the rose bush.

“Papa, what happens to the roses if we cut the stems?” The child questioned, watching Gyuvin remove a fully bloomed flower. “Won’t they die?”

“No. Quite the opposite, they come back stronger—more vibrant.” His father said, helping Gunwook clip a dead leaf, “By clearing away old growth, we allow the light to reach all the way to the center.” His father stood over the bush with shears, carefully snipping at crossed branches that obstructed its roots.

He lifted Gunwook so he could look into the core of the bush, a tight, bright bud beginning to grow among the thorns.

“Now, it can direct its energy towards creating something new and better.” His father smiled as he set Gunwook back down, patting his head. “It’s the work in the dirt that makes a flower bloom the way it does.”

“Granny said almost the same thing to me yesterday!” Gyuvin chirped excitedly, hunching over and trying to mimic an old woman. Just like Gunwook had seen his older self do when talking about the moss person he encountered.

“When you garden, you become responsible for a life. To plant something is to believe in tomorrow.” Gyuvin mimicked, pulling his shirt over his head like a hood. “Then she smacked me for not bringing her any snacks.” He pouted, tossing a dead flower over his shoulder.

“I think you like to aggravate her on purpose. I left you bread to take.” His father laughed as he squatted next to Gyuvin, helping him prune.

“I got hungry on the way,” Gyuvin mumbled, shyly turning away.

His father smiled fondly at Gyuvin, and they continued to work in silence, motions turning mechanical.

Gunwook’s younger self was staring at the rose bush, watching a caterpillar slink across a leaf.

“Soon you’ll be something new too.” The child said softly, turning to look at Gunwook.

Frozen with shock, his younger self happily approached him, pausing at the gate.

“You’re me.” He smiled, standing on his tiptoes to gawk at Gunwook.

It was still strange to see himself as a child, and it was even weirder to try and have a conversation. Moreover, Gunwook wasn’t sure where he was or if he was still trapped somewhere; the mark on his hand had stopped glowing long ago.

The child watched him with big eyes, unscathed by the world.

“What happened to your arm?” The child pointed to Gunwook’s mangled flesh that was poorly wrapped in now dirty bandages.

“I was-uh, helping a friend,” Gunwook responded, not wanting to scare the little boy, although technically it was him, and he would probably really like the story.

“Did you have to fight off a monster?” The child tilted his head, “Was it big?!”

Gunwook chuckled. He hadn’t changed very much. “It was very big. Lots of teeth.”

The child nodded, impressed, “You beat it with our magic, right?” Stepping back from the fence, he mimed shooting something from his hands.

“What magic?” Gunwook asked, thoroughly confused.

Frowning, the child looked disappointed and sighed. “The magic the blue lady gave us.” When Gunwook shook his head, still looking puzzled, the child pushed through the gate. He grabbed Gunwook’s good hand and pulled him back towards the darkness beyond the trees.

“I’ll show you!” He said excitedly, using both his hands to drag Gunwook.

Gunwook looked over his shoulder at Gyuvin and his father squatting in the grass, giggling with each other. Gunwook wanted to go back and stay with them, even if he could only watch them as a phantom.

The child tugged on his arm, insistent. Staring up at Gunwook’s somber expression, he easily guessed what Gunwook was thinking. They were the same person after all.

“Don’t worry, they’ll always live here.” The child pointed to his head. “You’ll see them again, now c’mon!”

Gunwook reluctantly followed the child who released his arm and dashed off into the darkness.

He took one last look at his father and sighed, turning away.

₊˚.🌹⋆⁺₊

Gunwook was keeping up with his younger self for a while, but the child suddenly vanished into thin air. He kept walking, hoping to spot the boy again.

A blueish light silhouetted the twisted tree branches ahead, and the sound of rushing water echoed through the blackness. He spotted a tiny form running towards the light, then disappeared behind the trees.

Stepping through the overgrowth, the full moon bathed the quiet autumn river in its light, and blue flowers were scattered along its banks. Leaves of various oranges and reds clung to the mossy rocks that peaked out of its surface.

His younger self was crouched by the water’s edge, inspecting pebbles in the moonlight. A blue shape drifted lifelessly down stream, partially crawling out a few feet from where little Gunwook was. One of her wings looked torn, and there was a dark stain on the side of her once silky dress. Gunwook stepped closer and recognized the faerie immediately. It was the woman Yujin showed— his sister.

“Miss Faerie!” The Child spotted her and quickly rushed over, discarding the rocks he’d been holding. The blue faerie paused as she stared at younger Gunwook, a soft emotion spreading over her face.

“You have her eyes.” She whispered, as the faerie examined Gunwook, a faint smile on her lips.

The little child was too stressed to hear this comment, but Gunwook did. His fingertips brushed his cheek, just below his eyes—there was only one she who could give him these eyes.

“Papa can fix you.” The child said anxiously, trying to help the woman out of the river with little success. “He’s a doctor for faeries.”

The faerie shook her head, “I am beyond any cures now.”

The woman looked pained as she dragged herself fully from the river, her shredded wings trying to flap and aid the motion. Gently settling on her back, she patted the grass next to her. “Would you like to hear a story before I go?”

“I would, Miss Faerie,” the child tilted his head, “But where are you going?” Young Gunwook sat cross-legged next to the woman.

“Someplace else.” She let out a dry cough, wheezing softly. The stain on her side slowly growing.

“Like the stars?” Gunwook pointed to the sky, “You’ll get to see my mama.” The faerie was silent for a moment, eyes glistening as she was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, “I’d like that very much.”

The child gathered some of the blue star-shaped flowers and returned, smiling at her. The faerie looked at him like she was seeing an old friend again.

“I can’t go yet.” She turned her head slightly, “not before a story.”

Young Gunwook nodded, not quite understanding what death was yet. The child began tying the flowers together. Gunwook sat next to his child self, and very briefly, he was sure the faerie could see them both. His inquisitive eyes watched the woman. She smiled to herself, then looked up at the stars as she started her story.

There once were two faeries who were close like sisters, but could not be more different. The blue faerie was quiet and cautious, the purple faerie was bold and curious. The blue faerie could grow life from death. The purple faerie had unparalleled destructive magic. Yet, they felt connected from the moment they met. They often snuck over to the human world to play in the clover fields and explore the strange world next door. One day, the purple faerie fell in love with a human man who stumbled upon them by chance. Knowing their world was not built for mortals, she decided to make herself human instead. But the purple faerie was burdened with a great power she knew could not be lost, so she begged her friend to take it. The blue faerie agreed, seeing how desperate her friend was, and they did something that should never be done—all for the sake of love. The purple faerie got her wish, but human life is short. She grew much faster than the blue faerie, and the next time they communicated, the purple faerie was with child. The blue faerie promised to sneak away and visit as soon as she could. However, the blue faerie was not meant to have the powers she did, and each day she struggled to control them. Not wanting the purple faerie to see her like that, the blue faerie avoided her friend. The next time she received a letter, it was from a human. The blue faerie wept as she read it; her friend was no more. The purple faerie did have one request, though; she asked that the blue faerie take care of the child in any way she could. And left her with a clover.

The faerie turned her head to cough away from Gunwook, and blood coated the grass nearby.

“I liked that story.” Young Gunwook said, finishing off a flower crown. “Papa says not all stories end happy, but still have to be told.” The child gently placed the crown on the faerie’s head as her breathing became shallow. “He also said to always give back when you get something you like.” He looked down at the faerie on his hands and knees, smiling.

“Your papa is a kind man.” The faerie spoke softly, gently touching his cheek. The stain on her dress seemed to be leaking onto the grass below, and her skin was losing colour.

“I should give you a gift back, too, then.” She shifted to push herself up with shaky arms, then looked down at the child and over to Gunwook.

“But I think it was yours to begin with.” She leaned down and placed a tender kiss on young Gunwook’s forehead, eyes glowing deep red.

A bright light flashed between them, and the child’s hair began to shine with a purple undertone.

The blue faerie lay herself back on the grass, gaze becoming hollow. Young Gunwook collapsed next to her, sound asleep. The faerie rolled on her side to stare at Gunwook’s face as she faded.

Rushed footsteps crashed through the trees, and Gyuvin appeared.

“He’s over here!” He shouted, rushing to Gunwook’s side. Gunwook’s father followed close behind, kneeling next to Gyuvin, face painted with worry as he looked at Gunwook’s hair.

His eyes widened when he saw the blue faerie. He went over to her, and her eyes blinked slowly as she looked up at him. They seemed to have a silent conversation.

“No.” His father whispered, “He’s too young.”

“I’m sorry,” the faerie muttered weakly, “we need him, our world will not survive much longer.”

They stared at each other again, having another wordless exchange.

“Gyuvin, take him home.” His father sighed, face aged with worry. Nodding, Gyuvin hoisted Gunwook onto his back and left.

The faerie opened her hands, and the Tome of Unknowns materialized into her palms. She pushed the book at his father.

“He’s all I have left of her— Please,” his father begged, hesitantly taking the book.

“I’m sorry.” The faerie repeated, but this time her eyes shifted to Gunwook, who still sat watching them. “We cannot alter his fate.”

As per the faerie’s request, his father left her by the water and adjusted the flower crown on her head. He said a prayer by her side as all life drained from her form. His father did not bury the faerie, as something else would come to claim her.

Gunwook recalled reading that faeries did not decay normally, so beings were created to help the process along.

He waited there as his father left, something clicking in his mind. The sky shifted rapidly from night into day, then back into night a few times.

Still Gunwook waited, a horrible feeling churning inside him. A terror that radiated from deep in his soul warned him that whatever had taken this faerie had taken his father as well. He clutched his knees tightly to his chest, mind racing.

Faeries could not pass on without them, but he had never seen one—or had he? A being that lived for death.

Something like a night haunt—something like Jiwoong.

Gunwook’s worst fears were confirmed as the faerie stepped into view. Silver hair glowing in the moonlight, bright red eyes trained on the blue faerie’s lifeless form.

He looked to be in his teens and was dressed in a much simpler black outfit. He knelt over the faerie and placed a hand over her blood-stained abdomen. 

His veins began glowing as he scanned her body while frowning. His gaze landed on the flower crown, and he plucked it from her head.

His eyes flashed as he cut his thumb and let a little drip onto the crown. Pulling out a glass pen, he wrote a symbol in the air, then spoke. 

“Hound.” His shadow extended, and three black shapes with the same red eyes darted from the darkness.

A butterfly made of blood flew from the flowers into the trees. The now withered crown was fed to the creatures and he waved a hand over the faerie below. Roots wrapped around her body as it began to crumble, then she sank into the earth. The dog-like shadows dashed off into the woods, barking into the ether.

 Jiwoong followed after them, and Gunwook did too. He took one last look at the spot where Yujin’s sister was.

A few clovers sprouted up from the ground.

✶⋆.˚

Following Jiwoong back to his house, the dog shadows were racing around the outside, howling like mourners at a funeral. The morning mist floated above the grass, and dawn was breaking in the orange sky above.

The sun hid behind the clouds, as if it, too, like Gunwook, could not bear to watch what happened next.

The door was hanging off its hinges, deep gashes etched on the surface, and blood stains soaked into the wood. Gunwook looked around for other creatures, but whatever had attacked was no longer present, or was scared off by Jiwoong’s arrival. Hands trembling, he stood before the front gate, unable to will his body further.

He watched Jiwoong sniff the air, red hue swirling in his eyes. Gunwook shifted in place as Jiwoong walked towards the entrance. The home looked dark inside—too quiet.

His pulse raced as if he stood before a loaded gun, knowing he was going to be shot, but still waiting for it to fire. He gripped his broken arm until he winced in pain, trying to remind himself this was not real.

The pain dulled, and his blood ran cold as Jiwoong returned, holding a lifeless body—his lifeless body.

Jiwoong trudged across the grass, and the shadows walked beside him. His father limped out of the house, bruised and torn. “He’s not gone!” his father stumbled forward, desperately reaching out. “Please, don’t-”

Jiwoong paused and turned frowning. His father forced his injured body forward, dropping to his knees. ‘“Please, you can’t- you can’t take him.” A broken sob escaped the man’s lips.

Gunwook was staring wide-eyed at the child’s body—his body. Almost torn to shreds, but still clinging on by a thread. Purple colouring slowly fading from his hair.

“Take me,” His father spat out, clasping his hands together.

“I cannot do that.”

“You can! Night haunt— Servant of death. You are not truly bound by any laws.” His father spoke quickly, “My wife-” his eyes looked pained as he recalled something, “my wife told me you can exchange one human’s time for another’s.”

“Your son is not human anymore. He houses old magic now that should be returned upon his passing.”

“He will be, again.” His father pointed to the colour draining from Gunwook’s hair. “The magic was gifted to him; he was not born with it.”

Jiwoong sighed like he already knew, but was annoyed that his father had known this fact as well.

“You only came for the magic; you have no use for a mortal life. If someone must be taken, let it be me.”

Jiwoong looked at the child in his arms, considering the offer. The man at his feet desperately clung to his pant leg. “Please.”

“Fine,” Jiwoong finally said, face softening a bit. “As you wish.”

His father sagged at the faerie’s feet in relief. He looked over his shoulder back to the house, giving a pained smile.

Jiwoong placed young Gunwook on the grass, and his father quickly scooped him up, holding his limp body close. Pulling out a glass pen, Jiwoong used Gunwook’s blood to draw a circle on both their foreheads.

“Are you ready?” Jiwoong stood over them, casting a dark and long shadow, blood red eyes glowing.

The three shadow dogs began walking in a circle around them, almost bouncing on their paws, as the faerie rolled up his sleeves. The act felt like a cruel mimicry of what he’d seen Gyuvin, his father, and him do earlier.

His father gazed at the home again, then tried to smooth out little Gunwook’s blood-matted hair.

“Always make room for the light,” he whispered, glancing at the rose bush they just pruned.

Pressing a gentle kiss to Gunwook’s cheek, he nodded to Jiwoong. Not a shred of reluctance or fear in his eyes.

Gunwook wanted to push through the gate and stop the faerie, but his heart shattered all over again when he realized this had already happened. He wouldn’t be standing here if he didn’t.

He was just witnessing the echoes—recalling what he already knew.

Tears streamed down his face as his father dropped to the grass, Gunwook still cradled in his arms.

Jiwoong’s muscles strained as he completed the exchange. His father took his final breath in, and young Gunwook let a renewed one out, flesh mending itself.

Placing Gunwook’s father on top of a shadow creature’s back, Jiwoong picked the child up again.

About to leave, his attention returned to the front door. Gyuvin’s tear-swollen eyes peered out, knuckles white as his small hands gripped the door. He was scowling at Jiwoong.

“You’re a brave little sapling, glaring at death.” He chuckled, canine's flashing in the light.

“Where are you taking them?” Gyuvin’s voice trembled as he clung to the door like a shield.

“I will bury this man and place the child back with the humans where he belongs.”

“No!” Gyuvin stepped out, but retreated when Jiwoong glared at him. “He-he’s mine to protect,” the little faerie tried to stand up tall.

“Then you should find him again when you’re older.” Jiwoong’s eyes dropped to Gunwook’s father, “There are no more lives to exchange for his if you fail again.”

The statement hit hard, and Gyuvin collapsed as if he’d been punched; tears bubbled in his eyes. Jiwoong turned away.

“Don’t leave them somewhere cold,” Gyuvin whispered, trembling. “They both can’t stand it.”

Jiwoong didn’t give any words of acknowledgment, but his ears twitched slightly.

The faerie walked past Gunwook with his dogs walking in a single file line behind. Both the child and his father looked like they’d just closed their eyes to rest, but only one chest was heaving with life. Gunwook’s gaze followed his father until he disappeared.

Gyuvin rushed out to the yard watching them leave. The faerie collapsed on himself, tucking his knees into his chest. Squeezing tight as if he could hug himself like his father once had. Strangled cries shook his little frame.

Gunwook pushed through the gate, approaching him slowly. He reached out to hug the little faerie, but Gyuvin faded from view, leaving only his cries ringing in the mist behind.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִִֶֶָ🥀་༘࿐

The fog slowly dissipated as Gunwook stood, and the sun began to shine on the house. As the light got brighter, the damage to the home faded. It was back to the house as he knew it presently.

No trace of the carnage he’d just witnessed.

Not even a single rose grew in their garden, he now noticed. Hao’s chimes gently swayed in the breeze; he watched familiar silhouettes move past the windows.

Matthew trudged by him, eyes dark and red ringed like he’d been crying instead of sleeping, and bandages were wrapped around his arms up to his biceps.

Gunwook’s heart twisted in pain. The faerie was wearing a simple blouse with the sleeves rolled up, blonde hair messy and dull.

“Matthew,” he muttered, stepping towards his angel.

The faerie paused and stiffened, then whipped around with hope. His eyes darted around the front yard.

His posture deflated again as he sighed, not seeing Gunwook right in front of him. Eyes dulling, he went inside.

Gunwook ran after him, but paused at the edge of the living room.

The atmosphere in the house was no longer light and welcoming. It was cold and somber.

Gunwook’s body was on the couch, arm still broken and unhealed. Sleeping on his back, arms resting on his stomach, it was what he expected to see more or less.

What he didn’t expect was his hair. That purple shine had returned to it, and the Tome of Unknowns was hovering over his head— open. It rested on the spot with the rose drawing, all of the flowers finally filled in. The page next to it had a long paragraph of script that Hao and Jiwoong were currently examining and scribbling onto note pads.

Taerae was asleep on top of Gunwook’s chest, seemingly in a similar comatose state.

Hanbin was burning incense and waving it around the room while holding a rabbit in his free arm. Ricky and Gyuvin were nowhere in sight, but his friend’s favourite blanket was tenderly draped over Gunwook’s waist.

Matthew sat on the floor next to the couch, softly stroking Taerae’s feathers, then he pushed some hair from Gunwook’s face.

“Why won’t you return?” he whispered like a prayer, “I know you’re out there somewhere. Just come back to us—please.”

He pressed his forehead to Gunwook’s hand as the faerie clutched it tighter with both hands.

“Come back-” Matthew spoke even softer, eyes glistening as he gazed at Gunwook’s sleeping form. “Come back to me.”

“I’m here-,” Gunwook responded desperately, wishing he could touch Matthew. To let him know he had not abandoned him. To wipe away the tears that seemed to endlessly flow from his eyes.

Matthew buried his face on the cushion by Gunwook’s side, grasping his hand tighter.

Gunwook rushed forward to stand over the couch, facing his angel.

“I’m here, Matthew,” Gunwook spoke more urgently, trying to shout through whatever void separated them. “I’m right here!”

The faerie’s head slowly lifted, and he looked around the space, his eyes landed in front of him. “Gunwookie?” he muttered softly, voice cracking with hope.

Hao and Jiwoong paused their scribbling to stare at him. Hanbin walked over and knelt next to Matthew, placing Yujin on a pillow next to Eumppapa. The dog rested her head over the rabbit.

“Chu,” Hanbin cupped his cheeks, forcing Matthew to look away from where Gunwook stood. “He’s not back yet.”

“I heard him.” Matthew said, eyes bubbling, “I know it.”

“Chu, you haven’t slept in days.” Hanbin sighed like he’d been repeating the same thing over and over. “I know you want to see him, but don’t hurt yourself by imagining things.”

“I’m not imagining anything!” Mathew snapped, pulling his face from Hanbin’s hands.

“Don’t yell at him,” Hao warned, “Hanbin’s been working tirelessly to keep Gunwook stable.”

“He wouldn’t have to if you didn’t lose him!” Matthew shouted, turning to glare at the faerie. Hao reared back in surprise, hurt painting his expression.

“Chu.” Hanbin scolded in disbelief. “That’s not fair. You know very well-”

“It’s alright.” Hao sighed, interrupting. “I don’t think I’d be much nicer if we couldn’t find you.” He smiled faintly at Hanbin.

“He’s here,” Matthew muttered, looking at the space where Gunwook stood again. The faerie pushed up to his feet and headed for the door.

“Chu, don’t leave.” Hanbin followed him, gripping his arm before the threshold.

“I just need some fresh air.” He smiled with only a fraction of his usual joy, then gently slid Hanbin’s hand off.

About to leave, he glanced over to Hao, “I’m sorry. I know you tried your best.”

Matthew spread his wings and pushed out the door, flying into the woods. Gunwook chased after him.

⋆˙⟡

He finally landed before the cloud of darkness just beyond the ‘Dead End’ sign. Although to Matthew, it probably looked like a normal forest again.

Swiveling his head, Matthew’s eyes darted around the space, “Gunwookie.” he stretched out his arms, searching the air. “Gunwookie, are you still there?”

“I’m still here.” He smiled, despite how utterly ruined he felt inside. Gunwook reached out, placing his palm over Matthew’s.

Matthew’s breath hitched as he stared at the open palm hanging in the air. He turned to face the sensation, eyebrows knitting together.

Gunwook noticed the faerie’s hands looked overworked and blistered. He let his thumb graze over Matthew’s much smaller palm—what had he been doing to wreck his body like this?

Their hands remained joined in the air, and he took a moment to stare at his angel. Gunwook couldn’t fully feel Matthew, but there was a faint tension in the atmosphere that surrounded their hands.

A weight that connected them across the boundless space that Gunwook stood beyond. Matthew flexed his fingers, and Gunwook mirrored the action.

The whisper of Matthew’s fingers interlaced with his own, sending shivers down his spine. Matthew stepped closer, squinting up like Gunwook was no more than a faint whisper of light in the darkness.

“Gunwookie, if you can hear me. You need to go back.”

“Back where?” He moved forward, standing toe to toe with the faerie.

Matthew’s ears twitched, and his expression looked strained, like he was trying to hear someone far away.

“However you got here, you need to do it in reverse.” Matthew explained, “You’re beyond my reach right now.” He looked at their joined hands in frustration. “If we were just a little closer, I could find you.”

Gunwook looked past the sign into the darkness he’d just escaped. It terrified him to return there once more. His gaze slid back to Matthew. The thought of never seeing his angel again terrified Gunwook even more.

To be so close yet a universe apart from Matthew— from everyone. It was his greatest fear.

The realization almost broke him. Gunwook was truly alone; he had been this whole time. And if he failed to find a way home, he’d be trapped here forever while his body rotted away. Gyuvin would have to watch him die again, and Gunwook could still do nothing to console the faerie.

Everyone would mourn him, but he’d be standing right next to them.

He disconnected their hands to stroke Matthew’s cheek, suddenly desperate for a tether to keep him from collapsing into his grief.

The faerie leaned into the touch, face etched with pain—feeling exactly what Gunwook was.

“I’m so tired.” Gunwook cried, finally breaking down. He slumped forward, weeping like a child. The weight of his past threatening to crush him.

Matthew surged forward, trying to hug the space where the air felt heavier. “You just have a little bit further to go.” He blinked back tears, arms flexing like he could pull Gunwook out of thin air if he tried hard enough.

Gunwook cried harder as he clung to the shadow of Matthew, finding comfort in the shred of warmth he felt in the air.

“Just a little bit more,” Matthew repeated, reaching up to pat Gunwook’s head. “I’ll find you, no matter what. But I need you to try one more time.”

“Alright.” Gunwook sniffled, stepping back from his angel. “One more time.”

What have I got to lose?—it was actually quite a lot. But he tried not to think too deeply about it.

What he stood to gain and what he might lose was exactly the same—his family.

He walked to stand beside the sign, fear churning his stomach. Feet refusing to advance any further.

Matthew came up beside him, “There isn’t a soul I can’t find once we’ve connected.” He smiled, eyes glowing with renewed life. “Anywhere you run.”

“Like that dragon chasing the prince?” Gunwook replied, somehow finding it in himself to joke about their conversation at the pond.

“I’m worse,” the faerie grinned mischievously, “I intended to keep you my whole life.”

Gunwook’s heart began to beat wildly as he stared down at his angel.

“But you have to come back to me first,” Matthew added, gesturing forward.

Nodding, Gunwook stepped forward, the darkness feeling like hope now rather than danger. Their knuckles skimmed as he moved, and Gunwook surged forward before he lost his nerve.

“I’ll see you soon!” He called over his shoulder, and Matthew waved, rubbing the hand he brushed by.

It was funny, the fox had always led Gunwook towards the light, but Matthew was asking him to walk back into the darkness.

Towards the past—towards the future.

⋆˙⟡♡

Gunwook was moving with no direction, deeper and deeper in the blackness. The compass appeared on his hand when he passed his house again. Following the marks, he continued beyond the hunter’s cabin and finally arrived back at the grey grass.

The compass faded, but Gunwook could not find the “Dead End’ sign. He walked through the mist, but he seemed to be walking in circles as he ended up at the same spot again and again. He began to lose hope.

He retraced his steps like Matthew had said—so why could he not escape?

A small shape appeared in the distance, and he perked up, thinking it was Matthew. It was his ten-year-old self instead.

“You’re not very bright,” he said, skipping over in his green winter coat.

“We’re the same person,” Gunwook said to himself, shaking his head. “Now are you gonna help me or what?”

The child sighed, walking a few feet away. Inspecting the grass, he finally paused and bent over, drawing a circle. The kid placed a rose in the grass.

“Hug Gyuvin extra tight for me. We owe him a lot.” The boy smiled before vanishing.

Gunwook rushed forward to the circle and waited inside, but he remained.

He picked up the familiar flower and pondered why his ten-year-old self had appeared. The last time he saw the kid, he was drowning in a lake—falling down.

It’s the work in the dirt that makes a flower bloom the way it does. His father’s words suddenly rang through his mind.

“Of course!” Gunwook shouted, dropping to his knees. “I am kinda an idiot, or technically I guess I’m not.” The paradoxical situation began to hurt his brain, and he refocused, digging into the grass with his good arm. Finally, he began to sink deeper, and those dark tendrils took hold of him again, dragging him under.

Floating through the darkness, a light began to shine below him, and a scene played in the distance.

He saw a teenage Jiwoong and a group of highly trained-looking faeries pursuing a young Yujin through a crystal lined tunnel. He couldn’t hear them, but one of the faeries surged forward and slashed a large cut along the boy’s thigh. Yujin’s hands turned to claws as he swiped his hand out in retaliation, ripping the faerie’s throat out. The little faerie killed all the men until only Jiwoong remained. Jiwoong and Yujin stood before each other, scowling.

Gunwook tried to wiggle his body away from the scene. As important as this looked, Gunwook really didn’t have time for it.

He was exhausted, and he could not remain here much longer. He would not be baited to stay.

The only problem was now he couldn’t stop himself. Panic rose as he hurtled towards the memory.

“Matthew.” He whispered, bracing himself to enter the scene.

Another light sparked to his right, then a furry shape crashed into his side, knocking him off course. Spiraling sideways like a loose sock in the washing machine, he hit solid ground.

Gunwook shook his head, trying to focus his vision; he was just seeing orange.

Fur tickled his nose, and his fox excitedly bounced and circled Gunwook, licking his face.

“You found me!” He scooped the animal up with one arm, and it nestled into his neck. “I did it,” he said breathlessly.

The fox yipped, staring at him.

“Sorry, we did it.” He corrected, and the animal’s rough tongue swiped over his cheek.

The fox’s tail started glowing, and Gunwook smiled, walking towards that pull he always felt.

He was going home.

⋆˚🐾˖°

“You think he’ll want my porridge?”

“No. Plus, we’re out of dragon toenails.”

“What about tofu?”

“He wasn’t in prison.”

“I mean, mentally he kinda was.”

Gunwook felt his subconscious filter back into his body, and a faint smile spread across his face as he listened to his friends. He heard Taerae quack and felt webbed feet thump against his chest.

“When’s Gyuvin coming back?”

“Any minute now.”

“I’m hugging him first.”

“Quibing, won’t let you.”

There was another, aggressive quack followed by more stomping. Gunwook felt the fluff of feathers tickle his face. He heard the front door bang against the wall like it was thrust open.

“Is he up?”

Another pair of footsteps thumped by the door.

“Did you take Yujin to work?”

There was an awkward laugh as Gyuvin's voice came closer.

“You know I can’t say no to those big eyes.”

“Who ate the last chocolate ice cream bar? Those are his favourite.”

“Forget the food, we should wash that blanket, nobody wants to wake up in dirty sheets.”

Footsteps and Hao’s voice walked further away. “Has anyone seen the detergent?”

“I saw Jiwoong by the freezer last night.”

“Oh? And what, pray tell, were you gorging yourself on yesterday? Certainly not any vegetables.

“Someone, please, answer me where’s the detergent?”

“There’s a spare one in the closet.” Gunwook sat up, groaning. Taerae hopped off his chest, quacking.

The faeries all turned to him slowly, wide-eyed, “Gunwook!” They shouted, rushing to surround him.

“Hi,” he said shyly, wincing at the pain in his hand when he tried to wave.

Gyuvin and Matthew elbowed at each other to sit closest to him.

Hanbin shooed them both away and started healing his arm. Hao returned smiling with the laundry soap.

The Tome of Unknowns dropped from the air and whacked his head.

Ricky plucked it from his lap and set it on the coffee table.

“So, what did I miss?” Gunwook asked, flexing his arm as he felt it healing.

Hao and Jiwoong shared a look. “We didn’t want to rush you,” Hao smiled tightly, “but instructions for breaking the curse appeared while you were sleeping.”

“Technically, it’s a ritual.” Jiwoong interrupted, “The book provided the location and description of five different objects we need.”

“But we’ve been debating who should retrieve what.” Hao finished off, taking the Tome off the table and putting it on Gunwook’s lap.

He turned the book in his hands, it was no longer pink—but a deep purple. Gunwook glanced at Taerae, comfortably seated in Matthew’s lap.

The duck made no move to approach him. Instead, everyone watched Gunwook curiously, like they were waiting for an experiment to start.

“How should we complete the ritual?” Gunwook spoke to the book, feeling it spark to life in his hands.

The tome flipped to that familiar page, but roses were inked with colour and tangled together in pairs around the bird that now sat atop a chalice. The colours appeared to correspond to hues he’d seen flashing in the faerie’s eyes. A pink rose was intertwined with a grayish cream one, for Hao and Hanbin. Blue interlocked with yellow for Ricky and Gyvuin. A bright red and deep crimson meant Yujin and Jiwoong. Finally, a purple and orange rose for Matthew and him.

“So where are the items?” Gunwook looked at Jiwoong and Hao.

“Some are here, others are in the faerie realm, we think. The translations are a little difficult at times.” Hao responded, motioning to a mountain of notebooks on the coffee table. “We’ll need a bit more time. Things have been a little slow with just the two of us.”

“Can I help?” Gunwook offered, hoping to learn a new language.

“You need to rest and eat.” Matthew quickly objected, and Hanbin nodded in agreement.

“I’ve been resting this whole time.” Gunwook pouted, “Don’t make me sit on this couch anymore.” He begged, trying to make his eyes larger and sadder.

“I could take him out on patrol.” Ricky suddenly spoke up, “He could use some more training.”

“Yes! I could.” Gunwook nodded before Matthew could object again. “In fact, you can all teach me.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually. Your object is in the faerie realm.” Hao replied, shifting through his notes.

“I’ll make a schedule.” Hanbin offered, already scribbling something on paper.

“Excellent!” Gunwook beamed; he was going to the faerie realm. “So what’s my object?”

Hao and Jiwoong exchanged strained expressions.

“It’s the needle of truth,” Matthew answered, smiling brightly once again.

“Well, that’s not so bad.”

“It is actually very bad.” Jiwoong contradicted, frowning.“The last known location was in the mountain king’s maze.”

“Oh,” Gunwook blinked in surprise. He had to find a literal needle in a haystack—fuck.

𓍯𓂃