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the7thcrow · 1 year

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Not all that Glitters is Gold -> 09

series pairing: (fem) princess!reader x seonghwa x san x wooyoung. eventual polyamory.

series masterlist | previous chapter

Part Nine: indignation, drasilisks, and a nail in the coffin.

series rating: 16+

series genre: action and adventure. romance. angst. fluff. suggestive. fantasy au.

series warnings: character death, blood and violence, weaponry, injury, suggestive content, mxm content, elements of misogyny, language, monsters. (will only be using chapter specific warnings for things not included on this list.)

summary: as a princess fleeing a royal assassination attempt, you have no choice but to put your trust in a band of three thieves in order to reach the kingdom of kuroku alive. however, amongst magic, deceit, and the bounty hunters that are hot on your trail, you realize that you might have stumbled upon a relationship far more complicated than what meets the eye.

chapter details beneath the cut ->

wc: 14.0k

extra chapter warnings: n/a

chapter summary:

“Maybe we should take a step back and-” you start, but Woo cuts you off.

“Butt out, Libaiyan,” Woo says immediately, even if he does not look at you. “This isn’t your business.”

“It is her business,” San replies. “She’s just as wrapped up in this as the rest of us are.”

a/n: surprise! i'm still on semi-hiatus until the end of the school year, but i’m currently on my reading week break so i had a bit of down time. really been missing this story and these characters. hope you all enjoy! <3

Seonghwa and Woo will neither speak nor look at you, although considering everything both their eyes and lips could say, you should be more grateful than saddened by that fact.

The four of you walk in silence along the mountain pass, just as you have for the last couple hours. Although there’s been no more than a few words exchanged between the men of your party, none of them have been with you. In fact, you don’t believe your existence has been acknowledged since yesterday morning.

Woo takes charge up front, Seonghwa a few metres behind him, you following suit with the same after himself. San takes up the rear, singular horse in tow behind him.

You had to sell the other horse to the inn as payment for the damages caused by the fight, as well as in return for the supplies and luggage that they’d confiscated from your room. Woo tried to argue with the inn-keeper that Yeosang had attacked him first, but the bounty hunters had long-since left and the inn’s damage needed to be repaired. It was just business, but you could tell she felt a little bad when the boys dejectedly left the horse in the stable.

The result is the remaining horse being unrideable. The animal carries the luggage you’d previously split across the two of them, and wouldn’t be able to handle the extra weight. It’s left you with a far slower journey, time practically standing still between your walking pace and the thick tension hanging in the air.

You feel awful.

You've hardly slept since they’d found out the truth. One night having been spent in endless tears, with your knees planted in the fallen rain and mud. The other in your own tent, although the cold quietness of it served as a reminder of Seonghwa’s absence, and subsequently of your lies.

You managed to convince them to take you on the rest of the journey, less for your own sake and more for theirs. You’re almost through the Burovian Mountains, the minor kingdom of Bebbanburg being your last city before Kuroku. Even if the navigation would be a little difficult, you likely could have managed it yourself.

However, you know that reaching Kuroku alone would feel hollow, considering you’d leave them with nothing but San’s practical death sentence. You couldn’t just abandon them in such utter shambles, even if ultimately that would prove the easiest point of action for yourself. No promises to keep, nor extra strings attached to your arrival at the Kuroken castle.

You’ve grown too attached to these men, you know that.

They’ve become a weakness of the most dangerous kind. The type that you’re aware of is a fault, but rather than overcoming it, you continue to feed into its fragility. You came back for them, and you’re willing to deal with the ridicule and liability that may encompass.

You’ll do what it takes to make this up to them, even if you’ve tarnished every bit of trust you’ve built, and inevitably you’ll be leaving them for good no matter the outcome.

A weakness they are indeed, and feed into that fragility you will.

Fortunately, not every bit of hope is lost for your retribution. You told them of your situation, of your plan to ask the royal family if they will follow through with the betrothal. You’ve also sworn to beg them for the money regardless of whether or not they accept.

After all, Seonghwa had made the conditions of your return very clear: If you have a way to get them the money, come back. If you don’t, then don’t even bother.

“I know it’s not what we agreed upon. Not even close,” you had said, voice raspy and face puffy from having spent the night crying. “But there’s a chance, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if we didn’t at least try.”

“You shouldn’t forgive yourself anyway,” Woo muttered, before standing up from his seat at the fire and shouldering his way past you. Pulling back the tent-flap he slipped under without another word. They only set up one tent.

You glanced at Seonghwa, whose gaze wandered away at the mention of your betrothal. You weren’t sure if he was hurt by the marriage itself, or angry that you hid it from him. Likely a little bit of both. He wouldn’t meet your eye.

“Alright,” a voice said from your right. San stood by the horse, packing up the dry nuts and coffee from their breakfast that morning. He gave you a small, weak smile. “We’ll try.”

So you’re trying, although not everyone seems equally as enthused by your plan. While neither have said anything out loud, you know that Seonghwa and Woo aren’t happy with the arrangement, and would choose to head home if they were given the choice. But it’s not their decision, it’s San’s. He’s the one who needs the money, therefore it’s his choice whether to give you a second chance.

For some reason, he has. In fact, he didn’t even seem to contemplate it much, agreeing to continue the journey with no arm-twisting needed. While Seonghwa and Woo’s sense of betrayal reads blatantly in both their expression and behaviour, San's is far less obvious.

You cast a glance over your shoulder at the swordsman, who meets your eyes almost immediately. He gives you a tight-lipped smile.

You’re having a hard time understanding him. He has plenty of reason to hate you - the most reason, debatably, considering it’s his money on the line - and yet, he’s not treating you with any sort of animosity.

He doesn’t appear happy by any means, gaze a little vacant and demeanor overall quiet as you continue to trudge along, but he doesn’t appear crushed. You’d like to talk to him about it, to understand where his head is at, but you don’t feel as if you have the right. You have lost the privilege of having any of these men confide in you.

If he wishes to speak about it, then he will approach you. Let him decide that on his own terms, rather than your pestering curiosity.

Up ahead, Woo takes a sharp turn off the main path, causing Seonghwa to halt and jog after him.

“Woo?” Seonghwa calls. “This isn’t the right way.”

“Shortcut,” Woo replies plainly, not even bothering to slow down.

“Are you sure?” Seonghwa asks. “Because this trail doesn’t look very worn-”

“It’s heading South down the mountain, which is exactly where we need to go,” Woo interrupts, finally pausing as he points at how the trail descends. It’s narrower than the main path, as well as more twisted and steep. “It’ll save us some time, now that we’re reduced to finishing this on foot.”

He doesn’t look at you as he says it, but the annoyance in his tone shows it’s quite blatantly a shot at you.

You don’t want to quip back, having no interest in starting an argument, but the trail ahead appears less than ideal. Almost frightening, as it begins to darken with the shadows of bushy, low-hanging trees. Its descent is steep, not enough to cause you trouble, but likely some for the horse. It’s a gamble, and one you aren’t certain is wise to take.

“Are you sure that it’s safe?” You ask, trying to keep your voice level but also gentle, non-accusatory. “Or that it’s actually going to bring us closer to Bebbanburg?”

Woo starts walking again without answering you, and you don’t miss the way the ground cracks beneath his boot, fist clenched at his side. It tears through the trail, forming a foot-long divide between you and the two men in front of you. If Woo notices what he’s created, he doesn’t show it, simply keeps storming down the mountain.

Looks like there isn’t much of a discussion to be had. You cast a wary glance over at San. He shrugs, grip tightening on the horse’s reign as he too moves forward, although you note the way his jaw sets firm. He’s aware it’s not the best idea, but he’s also not about to contest Woo right now, especially not in an act of defiance against you.

You sigh, although you put up no form of protest. This is who you are to them now. A ghost, your voice a whisper in the wind. You are there to get them the money, just as you were prior, only now all the bridges of understanding you’d built have crumbled.

Swallowing your worry, you step over the divide before trailing after them. So be it, this is what you deserve.

“Woo, we should turn back,” Seonghwa says, the fourth time he’s voiced his concern in the last hour.

This time, Woo answers him with a grunt rather than any assurance or rebuttal. He likely doesn’t feel inclined to try and convince Seonghwa that the trail is safe - again - or perhaps it’s finally dawning on him that this wasn’t a good idea.

The trail has become even more narrow and steep, and San fights to keep the horse at bay behind you, gravel slipping and sliding beneath the animal's hooves as it whinnies in protest.

Hours have passed since you first began your descent, and the sun has become a simmering ember over the horizon, darkness falling heavy around you. The tree’s are barren with blackened bark, twisting and curling around the trail. The wind blows between them sharply, a high whistling noise in contrast to the peaceful rustle of leaves along the main path.

Night is falling, and with the trail’s steep incline and the wind’s unyielding chill, there is no option to set up camp. You either continue to trudge on through the darkness and further into the unknown, or waste a few hours heading back towards comfortable safety. You believe it’s obvious which option is more wise.

The horse slides down behind you, letting out a high-pitched whine as the rocks slide around its hooves. “Shit,” San mutters, clutching onto its reins to try and hold the animal in place, despite it weighing almost a ton and having the ability to crush him.

This isn’t going to work. Should you even make it to Bebbanburg by morning, you’ll be exhausted from the night-long journey and forced to waste the day with rest. If you’re bound to waste time anyway, there’s no sense in risking the loss of another horse and having San crushed in the process.

“Woo, we need to turn around,” you say. It’s the second time you’ve spoken all day, and your voice is a bit raspy from lack of use. When Woo doesn’t respond, you clear your throat. “This isn’t a good trail. San’s about to get crushed by the horse and there’s nowhere to set up camp for the night. We don’t even know for sure if this is taking us to Bebbanburg, let’s just go back to the main path.”

“You don’t get a say, Libaiyan,” he replies, ignoring both you and your reasoning as he does not even bother to cast a glance over his shoulder.

Frustration settles within your chest and you swallow down a haughty response. He’s being stubborn, but not only that, he’s being stupid. Woo has to know by now that this wasn’t a good idea, but if it means agreeing with you on anything, he’ll let his pride drive the lot of you into the ground.

“This has nothing to do with me, it’s common sense,” you reply. You’re aware that picking a fight is not the best course of action, but you also have no interest in wandering in this cold and barren forest all night due to an elemental’s pride. “Don’t make everyone suffer because of your hatred for me.”

“Right, because I am the one making everyone suffer. That’s rich,” Woo spits, finally stopping in his pursuit down the mountain, turning to face you. His eyes scream bloody murder.

“That’s not what I meant,” you sigh. “What I was saying was-”

“What you were saying was that you think you still have any sort of influence here,” Woo cuts you off, taking a few steps up the trail, gravel sliding beneath his boots as he places himself in front of you. When he speaks he presses a finger to your chest, accusatory. “Let me make this clear. We are delivering you, we are getting our money, and then we are done. You aren’t a person, you aren’t a part of our party. You are cargo, you are baggage, you are a burden. You have no say.”

“Fine,” you say through gritted teeth, fist clenched at your side as you swallow down your pride. You remind yourself that he is hurt, that he is also the man who bore his soul to you at the fire only days ago. It’s hard to do this when he looks at you as if you are something vile stuck to the bottom of his shoe. “Then at least listen to Seonghwa when he tells you the exact same thing.”

Woo scowls, huffing as he turns to face Seonghwa. When he speaks his tone isn’t angry, but it’s certainly frustrated. “You really want to go back?”

Seonghwa's eyes widen, only slightly, as his gaze flickers between yours and Woo’s. It’s the first time he’s met your eye over the last two days, and it almost immediately darts away. He swallows hard.

“No. We can keep going,” Seonghwa answers, and amidst your internal groaning of annoyance, there is also hurt. Seonghwa wants to go back, he knows it’s the better option, and yet he only agrees with Woo because he cannot bear doing so with you.

Woo blinks at him, surprised, before nodding. “Alright then,” he says, turning back towards the trail. “We keep moving.”

“No,” a voice protests, and this time it is neither Seonghwa or yourself, but San. One of his hands grips the horse’s reins tightly, while the other is wrapped around the animal's neck, still trying to prevent it from slipping. “Don’t be petty. She’s right, we’re going back.”

Woo’s gaze darkens, and you aren’t sure if it’s from San calling him petty, or stating that you’re right. Likely both.

“We’re not being petty,” he argues, spitting the word out like a curse. “I think we have fair reason not to trust her judgement.”

“Then trust mine,” San says lowly. Getting a better look at him, he appears worn. A dark circle of tiredness having creeped beneath his eye, he breathes heavily, grip shaking around the reins in his hand. He’s been at this for hours, and it appears his patience has begun to waver. “You’re being a fool, and this is ridiculous. It’s my money on the line here, I think you should remember that.”

“Of course we’re aware of that, but-” Woo starts.

“Then don’t make the journey harder than it needs to be,” San cuts him off, tone cold. “Don’t make borderline moronic decisions that have me carrying a horse down a mountain, or that would have us stranded for the night. This isn’t your battle to fight.”

“You aren’t the only one she hurt. You think Seonghwa doesn’t feel-”

“I wasn’t talking to Seonghwa.”

The silence that hangs in the air is glacial. Frozen in time as the seconds tick by, unmoving as neither of the two men budge. Woo’s jaw is set firm, twitching as if he wants to say something, but does not permit himself to let the words out.

It dawns on you that San does not know how deeply you hurt Woo. He does not know the depths of his past, the horrors of orphanage. Woo had made you swear not to tell him.

It’s immediate, how the guilt settles in your gut, and you try to remedy the situation.

“Maybe we should take a step back and-” you start, but Woo cuts you off.

“Butt out, Libaiyan,” Woo says immediately, even if he does not look at you. “This isn’t your business.”

“It is her business,” San replies. “She’s just as wrapped up in this as the rest of us are.”

At this Woo’s gaze finally does shift, into a look of complete and utter bewilderment. He baulks at the swordsman, eyebrows drawing together in disbelief as his mouth drops open, stunned. “Are you actually defending her right now?”

“I’m not defending her, I’m just saying you aren’t thinking clearly about this-”

“Oh, of course. I’m not thinking clearly! Me, not the guy who’s taking the side of a woman who scammed him out of a fortune. Naturally, I’m the problem-”

“You guys…” Seonghwa starts, too quiet to be heard over their arguing, as both Woo and San’s voice begins to raise louder.

“It was my fortune to be scammed out of,” San cuts back, rolling his good eye as he lets out a groan of frustration. You aren’t sure if you’ve ever seen San lose his temper like this, but the height of his voice matches Woo’s, as does his ferocity. “For the sake of the god’s Woo, if I - the one with his life on the line - can put my feelings aside to finish the journey, you think you’d be able to.”

Woo laughs at this, a cold sound. “I think you aren’t putting your feelings aside, and that’s the problem. Being a little blinded, are we?”

San scowls at this, giving him an incredulous stare. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You guys,” Seonghwa starts again, and this time his voice is louder. Hand falling to his side, you notice his fingers grip around the knife on his belt, and you frown. However, his words go ignored.

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about,” Woo answers, tone dripping with annoyance. “You think I didn’t notice the longing, puppy-dog glances in her direction since the sand village? Then she betrays us and you’re smiling at her, San. Honestly.”

San’s eye widens as his jaw drops open, stupefied. “For fucks sake Woo, you’re being jealous? Right now? Are you kidding me?”

“Right, because I’m the one who’s delusional-”

“You guys!” Seonghwa finally shouts, and the two men momentarily break out of their argument. Seonghwa pulls the knife from his belt, sinking down to crouch lower onto his knees, eyes darting between the trees above you.

Sensing the urgency in Seonghwa’s demeanor, both Woo and San silence themselves, matching the empath as they crouch downward. You follow suit, an eerie chill passing through you as Seonghwa presses a finger to his lips. The forest is quiet, as the only sound is the wind as it blows between the trees and their blackened bark.

“What is it, Hwa?” San asks quietly, casting him a wary glance. His hand extends up to reach his blade fastened along his back, fingers clutched around the hilt.

“Do you hear that?” Seonghwa whispers, and you tune your ears into the forest’s sound, listening closer. A few minutes pass by in silence, when you admit to yourself that no, you don’t hear anything.

You’re about to tell this to Seonghwa when you still do not hear it, but rather see it. Something big, black, and scaly slithering along the tree a few paces to your left, blending into the bark so that if you weren’t on guard, you never would have seen it.

It looks almost exactly like a branch blowing in the wind, as it ripples along the barren wood, a shadow in the night’s darkness. Creeping its way up along the trunk, it extends itself to reach another tree, traveling between them. It’s only now that you see it that you can hear what Seonghwa had noticed, the slick noise of the beast traveling, scratchy against the wood.

Out of the corner of your eye, another branch moves.

Twisting to face it, you watch as another one of the monsters creeps along the trees. You cannot see its eyes nor its fangs, but it’s clearly some sort of serpent. A few feet long and thick as rope.

You swallow the frightened gasp that settles itself in your throat as another branch to your right moves. Then to your left, and another beside it. They’re everywhere.

When you bring your gaze down, you don’t realize what you’re searching for until you meet Seonghwa’s eyes. This time he does not look away from you, swallowing hard as he holds your gaze. His lips purse together. He’s afraid.

“We’re being hunted,” he whispers, and Woo nods, looking up and around just as you had. Gaze darting back and forth, he’s tallying them, you realize.

“Eight of them, by my count,” the elemental says, keeping his voice low. “What are they?”

“Basilisks,” San answers, followed by an unsteady breath.

Woo shakes his head. “They’re too small.”

“Children. That's why there’s so many of them.”

Woo nods, jaw tense as he flexes his fists in and out, quelching the small flames that continue to reappear within his palms. You don’t think he can help it.

“What do we do?” Seonghwa asks, and San considers the question for a long moment before responding.

“If they’re Basilisks that means they’re also blind,” he whispers, nodding to himself as he speaks. “If we’re quiet enough, we should be able to flee.”

Sharing a glance between the four of you, one that shares a mutual understanding of caution, Seonghwa takes a step forward. The rocks within the gravel of the trail protest, a crunching noise echoing from beneath his boot. The Basilisks begin to slither a little faster, and Seonghwa winces.

He corrects his next step, the crunch of the gravel much softer as he makes his way down the trail. To go up now is futile, as attempting to maintain silence will be much harder if fighting against the falling rocks.

Woo takes a step after him, light on his feet, with you following suit. You extend a hand out to San, who accepts it, his other still gripping the horse’s reins.

Turning his attention to the horse, he bows his head, ushering it to follow him. However, without an audible order, the animal doesn’t understand the command, huffing in annoyance at its reins being tugged.

San winces at the loudness of the noise, looking over his shoulder at both Woo and San. “Do we leave him?” He asks, voice so hushed it’s barely audible.

After a moment they nod. San drops the reins, and the group of you tread slowly down the hill. The swordsman keeps his hand out-stretched to calm the horse, hoping it won’t make another noise.

Fortunately, it doesn’t.

Unfortunately, it follows instead.

The rocks of the trail crunching loudly beneath its hooves, it follows after you, before beginning to lose its footing as the gravel slides. The horse lets out a loud sort of squealing noise, before slipping down the trail.

It would have crushed you, if it weren’t for the three black blurs that came darting from the forest’s thicket. Each of them lodging itself within the horse - one in its neck and the other two within its torso - the animal goes stumbling into the bush, letting out a loud whine of pain that makes your gut clench.

It’s quickly quelled by fear, however, as loud hissing noises emit from all around you, the trees shaking as all of the snakes begin to move. Alerted by the noise, you watch as many of their tails stick up, a rattling motion.

You don’t know much about snakes, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that that can’t be a good sign.

San and Seonghwa both immediately begin to run, instinct taking over where yours appear to be lacking. Woo swears beneath his breath. “For fuck’s sake,” he mutters, reaching out to grab your arm, grip firm. “Run!”

Pulling you after him, you both take off down the trail, the sound of slithering following close behind. A black dart flies over your shoulder, and you can feel the air rush passed as the beast narrowly misses your ear.

“They can pounce!” You yell, dread curling within your stomach. “We can’t outrun them!”

None of the men respond, but Woo does look over his shoulder, before releasing your arm and holding his own out steady behind him. Maintaining his pace, he summons a ball of flame before throwing it at one of the Basilisks, which appears to be nothing more than a black line zig-zagging across the trail.

However, instead of hitting the monster, Woo’s ball of fire is cut off.

By the beast's own flame.

The snake’s jaw falls open, sharp fangs glinting even in the darkness, and from its gaping mouth comes a large stream of burning orange heat. The flames collide with Woo’s own, diminishing it.

“Oh, shit,” Woo says, eyes wide. He turns forward again, shouting towards Seonghwa and San. “They may be blind, but they sure as hell aren’t Basilisks!”

San casts a glance over his shoulder to see what Woo is talking about, letting out a gasp as the beast begins to spit another stream of flame towards you. Woo blows it back in the opposite direction with a gust of wind, but the snake merely slithers through the flame, letting out an agitated hiss as it remains unscathed.

“Fuck, they’re fire-proof too!” Woo observes, quickening his pace as his adrenaline sparks higher. There appears to be fear in his eyes, genuine, an emotion you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen on him. “What should we do?”

“She’s right, we can’t outrun them,” San answers, hand drifting to the hilt of his blade. His sprint suddenly settles into a jog, and you nearly crash into him, stumbling as you maneuver yourself around him. “We only have one choice.”

When San unsheathes his sword, he twists around with it. A blur of motion, one of the snakes pounces forward, flying towards him with its mouth open and long fangs on display. It moves at lightning speed, like a black shadow whirling through the air.

San slices it clean in half.

The snake falls into two separate pieces on both sides of him, a thick black liquid oozing from where its body had been severed. It smells rancid, like something rotten as it spreads across the forest floor, acidic as the pebbles begin to sizzle and melt.

The other snakes chasing you begin to slow, as they dart themselves into the forest. You can still see them, as none of the bushes or trees have leaves to hide them. The blackened bark suddenly makes sense, the area over-run by the fire-breathing monsters.

You’d think it would have been nice for someone to have put a sign before the trail, warning of a flame-spitting-snake-monster breeding ground. Then again, perhaps nobody has survived to make note of one. Your stomach sinks at the thought.

A large stream of fire flies towards San, and the swordsman narrowly dodges it by twisting it to the left. Another blast of flame shoots out at him, and San ducks, the flames an inch away from searing his scalp.

San grits his teeth in annoyance, gaze darting around at the many snakes surrounding you. “Woo, can you ensure their flames won’t hit me?”

“But there’s so many of them-” Woo protests, although he’s quickly silenced by San casting him a glare, one that says: “I wasn’t asking if it would be easy.”

The elemental sighs, before shaking out his hands and shoulders. “I can do it.”

“Good,” San states, before bending low on his knees, standing light on the balls of his feet. Battle stance. “Then let’s work.”

When San begins to move, all the praise that Seonghwa had been spewing about him is immediately proven wrong.

It never even came close to illustrating the man’s skill.

San moves with an uncontested quickness, traveling through the air as if he were a part of it. His sword swings and twists as if it were its own being, an object cursed with a vengeance to destroy anything within its path.

The snakes fly at San from every angle, attracted to the sound of gravel crunching beneath him as he moves and parries between their attacks.

A snake springs from behind him, and San twists to avoid it without even a glance backwards. Meanwhile, another comes at him from his left, and despite being in the middle of a complicated twisting maneuver away from the other, he manages to swing at the beast through the motion.

He slices yet another snake in half, as Woo preoccupies himself with preventing San from having to also worry about their flames. The elemental keeps his hands outstretched, eyes darting between the monsters, watching for when their jaws drop open. It’s at lightning speed, reflexes nearly cat-like as Woo redirects their fire away from San. The monsters hiss in displeasure.

The sound of hissing slowly dies out as both the elemental and the swordsman master the beasts. San takes them down one by one, the black corrosive liquid in replacement of blood oozing thick across the forest floor.

You simply watch. Seonghwa stands next to you, rendered equally as useless considering his bow and arrows were left with the horse. Besides, you imagine that shooting one of these beasts would be nearly impossible, anyway. You consider trying to help with your own sword, but you’d likely be getting more in San’s way than actually assisting him.

You cast Seonghwa a glance, although he doesn’t meet it. His eyes are focused on San, jaw dropped open ever so slightly, watching the swordsman fight in awe. He does not look away.

San slays the final snake, breathing heavily as the monster tumbles to the ground. It looks far less menacing now, immobile and coated in black ooze and dirt.

“Let’s go get our supplies,” San says quietly, holding no sort of pride or glory at the impossibility he accomplished. He just looks tired.

In silent agreement, the four of you begin to walk back up the path. Towards their horse, which is surely dead. Another gone, and although you feel for them, you’re at the very least glad that this time you are not at fault.

San stops.

Unprepared, you run into him, bumping your nose against his back. “What are you-” you start, but he hushes you, gaze flickering back into the forest.

“Are there more?” Woo asks, tone dreadful.

San doesn’t respond right away, he doesn’t have to. The sound of something moving, slithering through the forest is immediately apparent, rocks either being crushed or slipping down the hill.

You look around, searching for the beasts. You catch sight of movement, something black and massive twisting through the bush, before it disappears behind a tree-trunk. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot another, slithering within the ashen underbrush. They appear bigger than the last, far longer as you cannot see their full length, body a couple feet thicker in girth.

“How many are there?” You ask, trying to keep your voice low.

“Not many,” San answers, although for some reason he sounds more devastated than relieved by the fact. “Only one.”

You cast him a confused glance, prepared to point out the third beast you see slithering behind a rock.

“Fuck,” Woo whispers, the realization dawning on him just as it does you.

The first beast you saw that had crawled up the tree… it has also slithered itself around one of its branches, before connecting itself to the next one.

The second beast that slithered through the underbrush, its torso does not disappear behind a blackened bush, it continues past it. All the way to the third beast, its body twisted around a rock before curling up yet another tree stump.

There are not many beasts, but one. One massive snake that’s body has completely surrounded you. It hangs across the trees, trails through the underbrush, curls around rocks and stumps alike. Black scales slithering in the shadows, it’s everywhere.

“Where is its head?” Seonghwa asks, looking up into the trees, eyes full of worry.

The silence in response to his question is a testament to how nobody is sure of the answer. Woo crouches down, grabbing a large rock. He weighs it in his hand, as if to deem whether or not it is heavy enough, then brings his arm back and throws it down the trail.

It sails a solid distance away from you before falling back down. Skipping a few times, it loudly crashes against different small stones with each of its jumps.

Less than a few seconds after it settles, the rock is devoured whole.

The beast appears in a whirl of darkness and motion. Flying down from the tree-tops, its open mouth - which is a few feet long, by your estimate - contains massive fangs that drip with a white venom as it swallows the rock.

The monstrous snake hisses with satisfaction, pink and ribbed tongue flickering out in front of it. It lets out a breath, and the faintest hint of flames flare out from the monster’s nose. The beast's black tail continues to fall down from the tree’s, and you can hear it moving all around you. Tens, maybe even hundreds of feet long.

It begins to slither along the ground, making zig-zags along the trail as it surrounds the smaller snakes that San had slain. It stops in front of one, nudging its body with the tip of its nose, to which the smaller snake flops over lifelessly

“Shit,” San whispers, gaze flickering between the massive snake and the ones he’d discerned to be children. “That’s mom.”

The snake continues to hiss, becoming increasingly agitated as it lets out a strange, mangled growling noise. It’s of a higher-pitch, breaking slightly, and the beast lets out a blast of fire that scorches the area around it. It’s upset, and part of yourself - the tiny fraction that is not consumed by fear - feels almost guilty.

Then it turns to face you.

Its face is difficult to make out. Features indiscernible as its scales are the colour of midnight, a stark contrast to the bold pink of its gaping mouth. The white venom from its fangs continues to drip onto the soil, equally as corrosive as its blood.

What’s most terrifying however, are its eyes. Gleaming rubies glowing within the darkness, they shine a bright red. They’re also cloudy, like fogged windows, a testament to the monster’s blindness. Even though it looks in your direction, you know it cannot see you.

And yet, it doesn’t move. It’s face hovers a couple dozen feet before you, tongue flickering. It huffs once more, a bright orange flare puffing from its mouth.

“It must be some sort of Basilisk and Dragon hybrid. Both rare, both deadly,” San whispers, expression grim.

Woo nods to himself, lip briefly curving upwards. “A Drasilisk,” he offers.

San gives him a look of disbelief. “What is wrong with you?”

“Would both of you quit it,” Seonghwa says, voice a panicked whisper. His gaze flickers between them and the beast, before swallowing hard. “What are we going to do?”

“It’s blind. So if we don’t make any noise, it’ll leave eventually,” San answers, and Seonghwa nods. It seems plausible enough of a plan, reasonable enough to work. Besides, your content with nobody having to try and fight this thing, whether that be you or any of them.

The snake curls upwards from its place on the ground, coils forming around itself as it hovers in the air, looming tall. It lets out another broken whine, this time louder. Amplified by the mountains, it echoes all around you. It resembles a woman screaming.

The beast flares its nostrils, the action accompanied by a quiet puffing sound. It’s not the same as it had done before, accompanied by fire and annoyance. Instead, it sounds like an inhale rather than an exhale.

The beast continues to make the sound over and over again, nose outstretched as it twists back and forth, almost as if it’s… sniffing.

It begins to move towards you, slithering slowly, following your scent down the trail as it creeps closer.

“You think just standing here is a good idea now?” Woo asks, a ball of flame forming within his hand. It’s useless, considering the beast is fireproof, but perhaps it provides him comfort. A false sense of control.

“No,” San says plainly, rolling up his sleeves before unsheathing his sword. “Ready to go again?”

“You aren’t seriously thinking of fighting that thing are you?” You ask, because it sounds ridiculous. The smaller snakes in relation to this monster is like comparing a puppy to a wolf. It’s a death mission, suicide.

“Not much of a choice,” San breathes, before rushing towards the beast. Woo lets out a shout of panicked protest, and while his intentions may have been good, the beast perks up in acknowledgement of their presence.

It lets out a vicious, blood curdling roar - a sound you never thought could come from a snake - and with it comes a blast of fire. Like an avalanche of flame, red and orange flurries tumble down the trail. Even from a fair distance away you can feel its heat immediately, and San only manages to avoid the flame by diving out into the bush.

Even so, it catches his ankle, the flames alighting his trousers. He extinguishes them with a handful of dirt, casting an annoyed glare in Woo’s direction. “Thanks a lot,” he says, both in relation to the elemental having alerted the beast and failing to redirect its flame.

Woo doesn’t apologize, but he does raise his hands in front of himself, prepared for the beast's next blast of fire.

San rushes towards the monster once more, the necessity for speed obvious, as its gaping mouth extends to where he’d just been standing. The beast instead collides with the ground, venom squirting into where its fangs sink into the soil.

San’s good eye widens, as if realizing how close he’s dancing on death’s doorstep.

While his attention is preoccupied, the beast's long torso swings towards him. The monster commands its body like a whip, extending itself to meet the swordsman with an alarming amount of force. From the sheer power of the strike, you fear he may fall.

However, when it pulls its body back, San isn’t on the ground. He’s not standing either. In fact, he’s not anywhere.

Your brows furrow into confusion. Focusing your gaze, you search for San amongst the darkness, unable to find him where he’d previously stood. As if he’d been wiped from existence.

Then you notice a flash of colour amidst the beast's jet-black body.

San clings to the monster as it raises itself into the air. Arms held around its torso, he holds onto it with sheer core-strength, face twisted with the necessary effort.

He caught it. Somehow, he managed to catch the three-foot wide whip hurtling towards him.

Seonghwa cheers in a rally of support, and you nearly clap in amazement, as well as disbelief.

San pulls himself up so that he is sitting on top of the beast, legs wrapped around its torso as if he were riding it. With a hand clutching onto one of its scales, he uses the other to lift his sword into the air. The sword gleams in the moonlight as he raises it high, like a knight from a storybook as he brings it down, triumphant and glorious.

The sword bounces off of the beast's scales.

San’s brows furrows, and instead of a plunging motion, he attempts to slice the beast as he had the smaller ones. Once again, the sword merely rebounds off of the monster, useless.

The snake lets out a roar of annoyance, becoming aware of the nuisance that has attached himself to its back. It launches itself upwards, before immediately descending down, the rest of its body following in a peristaltic motion. The ripple ascends towards San like a massive wave, and the swordsman’s face settles into an expression that says nothing less than “Fuck me”.

When the snake’s body launches upward beneath him, San attempts to hold on, but the effort is futile. The scale beneath his hand rips off, and he is sent flying. Losing the grip on his sword, it goes soaring out into the forest, disappearing into the underbrush.

If there is any sort of optimism to be found in the situation, it’s in that at least San is sent hurtling towards you rather than in the opposite direction. He crashes into the ground, catching himself on his forearms, bare skin shredded as he slides along the trail’s rocks and gravel.

Wincing, he does not allow himself to dwell on the pain, as he shakily pushes himself back up and unto his feet. His arms are stained pure red, the layer of flesh wiped clean off. He swears beneath his breath, before yanking both of his sleeves down as if he cannot stand to look at it.

“Well,” Woo says, a look of disgust on his face as blood begins to soak through the fabric of San’s tunic. “Are you done?”

“I’m done,” San hisses through gritted teeth.

Woo nods. “We run then?”

San looks over to the snake, who lets out a loud hissing noise as more fire sparks from its nose. “Yeah,” he breathes. “We run.”

The four of you take off down the trail. Keeping one eye over your shoulder, the beast turns to face you all, letting out a violent roar that shakes the ground. It opens its mouth, another avalanche of flame tumbling down the trail.

Woo twists around, running backwards as he redirects the flames into the forest. Sweat has begun to bead on his brow, and you believe it has little to do with the actual warmth of the fire, but instead the effort required in combating it.

This isn’t going to work. You can’t outrun this monster, just as San can’t slay it and Woo cannot hold off its flames forever.

You’re going to die.

The realization is not as startling as it should be. After all, the brink of death is a place you’ve found yourself numerous times the last few weeks. Beginning at outrunning the black-clad men in your castle, followed by about a dozen more deadly challenges since.

Which means there must be a way to maneuver your way out of this one too. What you need is a change in perspective, in strategy.

You cast another glance over your shoulder, the snake only a dozen feet from you now, long body winding back and forth behind it.

“We need to split up!” You shout, to which Woo shoots you an incredulous glance.

“So it can pick us off one by one?” He retorts, appalled by the idea. You shake your head.

“It can’t see us,” you say, words tumbling immediately from your lips as you think of them. “If noise starts coming from different directions, we may be able to confuse it.”

He opens his mouth, prepared to shut down the idea, but pauses. His eyes light up in realization that it actually might work, before filling with annoyance at remembering that the idea is also yours.

“Dammit, Libaiyan,” Woo mutters, turning around once again to redirect the monster’s flames. He groans in frustration. “Fine. We split up.”

“We all run into the forest on the count of three,” San chimes in. He casts a glance at each of you in turn. You, Woo, and Seonghwa all give a nod of affirmation, and San swallows hard, breathing heavy as he speaks.

“Three…two…one!”

The four of you split off from one another. You and Woo both sprint to your right, while San and Seonghwa turn left. You run through the forest, no trails to be found, narrowly avoiding the sharp branches of the ashen trees.

You can hear the snake behind you, the beast also having chosen to go right rather than left.“Great,” you think pleasantly, taking a sharp twist westward as the hissing grows louder behind you. “Just my luck.”

Another blast of fire erupts from its mouth, and you dart behind a tree to avoid being swallowed by its flames. The large glowing blaze emerges from both sides of you, and the heat is scolding against your skin, burning even if not directly touching you.

The monster appears beside you, lightning-fast as it continues in the direction you had been running. It passes right by you, continuing down further into the forest.

You let out a sigh of relief, as the beast continues to move further and further away, its head becoming a small - well, smaller - shadow in the distance. Its body continues to move beside you, the hundreds of feet winding down like the string of a fishing pole. Careful to keep your footsteps quiet as you walk, you tread with caution back towards the trail.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Woo doing the same a few trees away. You catch his eye, and he gives a curt nod, before heading over to you.

“Is it really gone… Just like that?” You ask, astounded by the ease of your escape.

“Looks like it,” Woo replies, although the unease in his tone sounds like he’s not quite convinced himself.

However, he does continue moving forward, and you jog to catch up behind him. You don’t say anything, not wanting to push your luck. It appears that at least for the moment, he’s forgotten to be hostile towards you, and you’re more than willing to soak in a rare fraction of peace in the man’s presence.

It’s after less than a minute of walking - the trail appearing just a few metres in front of you - that Woo stops. You come to a halt, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t notice, gaze fixated on the tail that continues to wind down.

“Is it just me,” he starts, before swallowing hard. “Or is it moving faster?”

You narrow your eyes, as it’s a bit difficult to tell. The scales create almost an illusion against the blackness of the ash, making it hard to notice that it’s moving at all, but you think he’s right. It is moving faster, which is strange considering there isn’t actually anything for it to be chasing, so why speed up?

The answer becomes obvious when both you and Woo look back into the shadows of the forest, only to see a dark, twisted silhouette reappearing in the distance.

The beast let’s out another harrowing roar, fire once again exploding out from its gaping mouth. The trees there are not as barren as the ones closest to the trail, and you watch as the leaves catch fire around it, casting a smouldering glow that expands as more begin to burn. It’s ominous, like hundreds of small candles being lit all at once, and your breath dies in your throat.

You feel a hand wrap around your forearm, yanking you sideways. You stumble as Woo pulls you into him, his back pressed against the bark of a tree, hiding the both of you. His eyes are wide, but surprisingly calm. Alert but poised, as he listens as the sound of the beast’s hissing becomes closer.

Terror seizes within your chest. At least when you were running you had something to focus on, to keep your mind busy. Sitting here as the beast moves closer makes you feel helpless, like predator and prey.

Woo suddenly places his hand over your mouth, and you realize that your breathing has become heavy. Not out of tiredness, but panic. You glance up at him, although he does not meet your eyes, his own gaze trained forward. Avoidant as his jaw is set firm in annoyance.

He detests you, and yet here you are, pressed against his chest with his fingers settled on your lips. He wants you dead, and yet it appears a part of him will not let it happen so easily.

Even now, Woo is not as cruel as he believes himself to be, and you feel almost sorry for him.

The monster roars once more, and this time sparks billow to your left, the two of you finally within the beast’s reach. The sound of its scales sliding through the dirt becomes softer, as the monster begins to slow down in its pursuit. You note the familiar noise of puffing air, as the beast catches a whiff of your scent.

Woo’s eyes fall shut and his grip on your arm tightens, as if he needs something to hold onto.

For that something to be you, this really may be the end.

Your eyes still do not leave Woo’s own, even if his are not open to meet yours. When you speak you keep your voice low, so quiet that rather than hearing your words, he can likely better feel them with his fingers against your lips.

“I’m sorry,” you say. Woo’s eyes open at this, meeting your own. He does not smile. He neither nods nor whispers any form of acceptance.

Yet, he also does not deny them. At the very least, you know that he heard you in your sincerity, and perhaps that is the most that you can ask for.

Closing your eyes, you place your hand on his tunic, fingers clutching onto its fabric. The beast’s sniffing has become louder, only a dozen feet off by your estimate.

“Hey!” A voice suddenly shouts. It’s far off, much deeper into the forest. When he shouts again, you can tell that it’s San. “Hey! Over here!”

The beast lets out a loud roar and fire engulfs the tree you’re hiding behind, flames rolling out on both sides of you. Woo pulls you further into him, away from the heat that nips at your exposed flesh, causing you to wince.

Then the monster takes off, deeper down into the forest, leaving the two of you behind. Woo removes his hand from your lips, and the two of you take a moment to breathe, heavy and relieved.

This relief is short-lived, however, as Woo’s eyes widen. Realization dawning on him.

He scowls, shoving you off of him. “That dumbass,” he spits, before taking off into the forest, following the monster that has now shifted its pursuit onto San. Chasing after him, you follow the monster's tail as it winds and twists through the trees, moving at rapid speed.

When you finally catch up to them all, the forest has been replaced by some sort of clearing, the wind fierce and ground coated in jagged rock rather than dirt. Looking ahead, you can see that past the monster pursuing both San and Seonghwa is… nothing.

The rocky landscape cuts off, and past it all you can see is empty space, followed by the next mountain over in the distance. A cliff. Your heart pounds faster.

Woo appears to notice the sudden drop the same time you do, his pace quickening as he summons a ball of fire in his hand, throwing it towards the beast. It does nothing, of course, merely bouncing off of its scales. It doesn’t even grab the monster’s attention, its focus trained solely on the two men in front of it, not even noticing that you and Woo have nearly closed the distance.

Seonghwa’s hand slips into San’s, and both he and the swordsman share a look. Nothing is said, but as they both nod, there seems to be some sort of understanding made between them.

Together they run off the edge of the cliff.

“No!” Woo shouts, although it’s more of a horrified shriek than anything else. The monster twists away from the cliff’s edge, not interested in following suit in their plummet.

It all happens in the split of a second, as Woo grabs your hand and drags you with him. He makes massive leaps and bounds, desperate as he pulls the two of you past the beast.

Not only past the beast, but down the make-shift pathway created by its absence and over the cliff’s edge.

The moment your feet leave the comfortable firmness of the ground, dangling in the weightless state of limbo between the earth and sky, you decide that this is a feeling that you never want to experience again. Fortunately, it appears you won’t have to worry about this, considering you won’t be living much longer.

Your stomach plummets as you do, tunic billowing out behind you as you fall through the air. Looking down, your eyes sting from the wind blowing upwards, although you force yourself to keep them open.

You see San and Seonghwa falling beneath you, a solid distance away but also not yet having splattered against the ground.

Or…not ground…water.

Water.

A massive lake expanding from the cliff's edge all the way to the next mountain. A beautiful blue lake, reflecting the light of the moon against the night sky, glassy in its stillness.

It’s not ground beneath you, it’s water.

Despite yourself, you laugh. A joyous, disbelieving laugh at the sheer luck of it.

What are the odds that out of all the cliff’s you could have thrown yourself off of, it would have been one with a deep and expansive stash of water beneath it? Next to none, and you can’t help but smile.

Woo drops your hand, extending both of his own out in front of him and down towards the lake. Clenching both of his hands into fists, you watch as the lake breaks its stillness by beginning to ripple. Good, otherwise you may as well be falling onto cement. He then pulls his arms upward, and the water rapidly rises, minimizing the fall by at least fifty extra feet.

Woo manages the maneuver just in time, as both San and Seonghwa crash into the lake a mere second before yourselves.

The water is a blast of cold, engulfing you as its chill settles deep within your bones. You made sure to land feet-first with your body tight. You remember years ago Mingi telling you that was the right way to land, the only way, if you had hope of not compressing your spine or breaking any bones. This was after he’d had water training during his earlier years in the kingdom guard. He’d been gone for a week near Dildysus’ shores, coming back tanned and with a dozen stories to tell. At the time you were envious of not being able to go with him, pettily treating him with a cold shoulder and avoidant gaze. Now you’re just eternally grateful he took the time to share with you some of what he’d learnt.

You open your eyes and are greeted with what is mostly darkness, although you can make out the bubbles of your breath and a few dark blurs that you sincerely hope are the boys. Kicking upwards, the bottoms of your feet burn, ankle aching in a way that you’re sure it’s at least minorly fractured.

With the severity you could have had in your injuries, you can’t bring yourself to fret over it.

Face breaking past the surface, you take in a massive gulp of air, the wind having been completely knocked from your lungs upon impact. San and Seonghwa both turn to face you, Woo popping up soon afterwards. None of you speak right away, taking a moment to catch your breath, to take in the inconceivable fact that you all are still alive.

Eventually, San speaks, motioning behind you. “Make our way over there?”

None of you respond, it’s not necessary. Instead you simply set in motion towards the shoreline, to safety at last.

When you reach the shore, it’s on your stomach compared to your feet. Dragging yourself up onto the beach - which is more dirt than sand - you pull the rest of your body up by your elbows.

The couple of miles you had to swim felt a lot longer than it looked, even with Woo creating a current to help carry you the length of the distance.

San is a little ways ahead of you, pulling himself up into a seated position before flopping down onto his back, chest heaving as he looks up at the stars.

You hear Seonghwa cough from behind, wet and hoarse in a way that you can tell he’s choking on water that he swallowed. You cast him a glance, the empath sitting slumped on his knees, Woo giving him a firm slap to the back that causes him to cough up even more water.

You lay down, sand embedding itself in your hair and rough along your cheek, but you can’t hold yourself up any longer.

What a sorry bunch the lot of you are.

“All our supplies,” Woo says eventually, defeated as he lets out a guttural cough before continuing. “It’s all gone. Our tents, our horse, our food, our sleeping bags, everything. Gone.”

“Just be thankful we’re alive,” San retorts bluntly.

You know that’s not the best thing to say at the moment, and you brace yourself for Woo’s response.

“Oh, sure. All thanks to you, right?” Woo says, glowering. “What were you thinking, shouting after it like that?”

“I was thinking about saving your life,” San responds, tone far more calm than Woo’s.

“My life didn’t need saving.”

“It definitely did,” you think, but you know better than to interject yourself into this.

“What you were doing was almost getting yourself killed,” Woo continues, voice rising with every word. “I mean really, what was the plan San? You threw yourself - no, sorry, you and Seonghwa - off a cliff! You think that’s some kind of heroic gesture, that I’d be thankful?”

San does not respond.

“No, seriously. Tell me, San, because that has to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, and I’m at a loss at what you were possibly thinking.”

San does not look away from the sky as he speaks. “Would you two go check if there’s any place we can take shelter around here? I need to speak with Woo alone.”

Seonghwa and you share a nervous glance. He purses his lips together, worried about what may be said and what that may mean for the rest of your journey.

Although, this isn’t either of your business, and you both awkwardly rise to your feet. “Alright,” Seonghwa says, the two of you beginning to make your way down the beach.

You try to catch his eye again, to see what he may be thinking about all of this, but he keeps his gaze straight ahead. The two of you don’t talk again even as you make it past the beach, down the open field and into the forest’s thicket.

San waits until the two of you are completely out of sight, having disappeared from the shoreline and into the woods. He still does not look at Woo, does not want to see his angry furrowed brows, his tense jaw and clenched fists. The stars are easier to speak to.

He isn’t sure where he gains the strength to say it. Perhaps there is something about surviving a plummet to your death that makes you take a step back and think about things. San doesn’t really know. He just speaks.

“Maybe I was thinking the same thing as you when you dragged her off that cliff with you. That same reckless, thoughtless panic that you felt when you saw me go over and decided to throw yourself after me. That blind instinct that says I’m willing to die in a heartbeat, so long as it gives you a chance to survive.”

San waits for Woo to say something, but he does not. Although the swordsman can hear him shuffle, clearly growing uncomfortable, exposed.

Amidst Woo’s silence, San connects Kuroku’s constellation in his mind. He and sister used to search for them in the night sky when he was little, finding Libaiya’s sun and Zaria’s siren amidst the bountiful little glowing beads. That was before Jude died. Before everything became so damn complicated.

San sighs. “I’m tired, Woo.”

There’s so much that he could be referencing, too much, but Woo understands it to be about the journey. “I know,” he says, his voice softening slightly. “But we’ll get to Kuroku soon, and then things can go back to normal.”

San laughs, a breathy chuckle. “Normal,” he says, mulling over the word, the silliness of it. “What is our normal?”

“What do you mean?” Woo asks, prodding a little further after being met with silence. “San?”

“When are we not fighting? Or avoiding each other? Or pretending this limbo we’re in doesn’t matter when it so obviously does?”

When his words are met with silence, San swallows hard. His throat feels tight, almost sticky. Like his body is begging him not to do this, his heart screaming at him to not say anything, not to burn this bridge even if it’s falling apart at his feet.

But San has to do this. If not for his heart, then for his sanity.

“We’re killing each other, Woo,” he whispers, still not looking at him. Not letting himself be swayed. “Or at least… you’re killing me.”

There’s a thick silence that follows these words, that leaves San a little surprised. He’d expected the elemental to get defensive or angry, just as he had been up the mountain earlier. Instead he remains quiet, hesitant.

Perhaps he can tell that this time is different.

“What are you saying, San?” Woo asks, quiet.

“I’m saying that I’m done,” San replies. “I can’t keep fighting like this, I can’t keep watching you throw yourself into open fire over jealousy, I can’t keep letting this thing between us put everyone in danger.”

San drops his voice to a whisper, so quiet that he isn’t sure if Woo can even hear him, the words too vulnerable to be said so loud. “I can’t keep waking up alone.”

San can hear Woo swallow, hard and thick. When he speaks, his voice is shaky.

“Is this about her?” Woo asks, but his tone is not accusatory, nor angry and jealous as he so often is when the subject of you arises. Instead it is broken, defeated. Rejected.

“No,” San answers, and it’s with a small laugh. Not of the condescending kind, just a hum towards the idea of all of this starting with you, as if he’d only started feeling this way mere weeks ago. “She may have been the final nail in the coffin, but we’ve been hammering for years, Woo.”

Another silent pause, before the elemental’s voice becomes even smaller. “Is there anything I could do to change your mind?”

San considers this. May as well be honest. “Yes, but you couldn’t do it.”

“What is it?” Woo asks immediately, driven by scheer instinct. Willing to do what it takes, willing to be thoughtless and reckless. Willing to jump off any cliff need be.

“You would need to give me all of you,” San says softly, a comet whirling by in the sky above him, as if what he’s saying is some sort of wish. Fool’s hope. “No bits and pieces. No secrets, just full honesty. Nothing hidden. Stripped bare.”

“You already have…” Woo rushes, before abruptly trailing off. San finally looks up at him, pushing himself back onto his elbows, meeting the elemental’s eyes.

Woo’s face has fallen, mouth drawn open as the words fail to come out, as he realizes they would be a lie.

San does not have all of him. There are things he won’t share, vulnerabilities hidden deep within him, a part of himself that he is not willing to unravel.

San wishes the Woo would take a breath, then unwind himself. That he would explain everything, why he pushes San away yet refuses to let him out of his reach, or why he needs San so badly on the coldest of winter nights, but disappears come the sunrise in the morning.

He’s always believed that this is because Woo also loves Seonghwa, that there is space in his heart reserved for another, a place that San can never hold no matter how much he tries.

But the way that Woo looks at him now, his mouth drawn open and eyes wide with an agonizing desperation, San knows that there is something deeper than that. Something dark, something holding the elemental back, something that Woo’s heart pleads for San to know but is unwilling to actually share.

Something that Woo will never tell him, that makes him wonder if he truly knows the elemental at all, and San is too tired to hold on to false hope any longer.

“We’ll get to Kuroku, then we’ll go home and figure out what we’re going to do about this,” San says finally, and he knows his voice sounds cold. Inside his heart is screaming, wailing, clawing for attention. His mind shuts it down. “For now let’s just finish what we started.”

“Okay,” Woo answers, gaze falling down from San’s, staring at the ground. The little speckles of grey-coloured sand surround them, murky and wet, cold. San wants to reach out and touch him. Hold him, kiss him, make him feel better. He stops himself.

He supposes that this will take a lot of time to go away. So be it.

“I’m going to go see where they ran off to,” San says. He rises to his feet, and his knees feel like jelly. He wants to collapse, his brain buzzing, vision foggy within this state of delirium. It feels like he’s not in control, cutting himself off from his emotions leaving him empty and hollow, weightless.

“Okay,” Woo says again, even quieter than the last, still not looking at him.

“Don’t stay out here too long. It’s cold and you’re soaked,” San says, before his feet are moving towards the forest and away from the beach, footprints trailing behind him on the sand.

“Sure,” Woo says, and his voice shakes. There’s a certain wetness to it, raspy as it rises up from his throat, and San realizes the elemental is holding back tears. It nearly stalls him, as San isn’t sure if he’s ever seen the elemental cry beyond a few silent tears.

He knows he would not be able to handle it, and so he continues forward, leaving Woo behind.

When San finds you in the cave that you and Seonghwa found, his expression is solemn. Sitting down a couple feet to your left, he reaches behind him to remove his sword from its sheath, only to remember that it’s no longer there. It’s somewhere back up the cliff, lost to the bushes after he’d been thrown off the monster’s back.

Upon realizing it’s gone, San sighs. He runs his hands through his hair, before keeping them placed on the back of his neck, as if he can no longer hold his head up on his own.

“Impressive fire,” he says suddenly, in reference to the hand-made fire crafted in front of you. It is rather impressive, made of a bounty of small sticks and logs all arranged in an intricate fashion, as well as some sort of fern stuffing the middle that helped get it started.

You chuckle, the thought of you containing the wilderness skills to make something like this amusing. “Seonghwa started it,” you explain, and San smiles, before glancing around the darkness of the cave.

“Where is he?” He asks.

You nod towards the cave’s exit. “Took a walk in the forest.”

San quirks an eyebrow. “It’s the middle of the night, almost sunrise.”

“Yeah, well,” you start, albeit awkwardly. You don’t want to sound too self-pitiful. “I don’t think he felt comfortable sitting alone with me.”

San’s smile falls, own eye drifting from yours to the flames. “Ah.”

You decide to change the subject. “Where’s Woo?”

“Down at the beach.”

When he doesn’t add anything else, you know that he doesn’t wish to speak about the elemental any longer.

The two of you sit in a not-so-comfortable silence, before you notice the dried blood on his tunic, having soaked through the fabric of both of his forearms. Amidst the more immediate danger, you’d forgotten the nasty fall he’d taken from the beast’s back, having wiped the skin clean off. You grimace at the thought.

“Your arms,” you start, clearing your throat. “Do they hurt?”

San glances down at them, eye widening as if to say: “Oh, right. That happened.”

“Uh, not really,” he says, before pulling up one of his sleeves. His breath catches at the sight of the skin, painted with bright bloody patches and a consistent red all throughout. He lets out an uncomfortable laugh, in shock. “Although, it looks like they should, doesn’t it?”

You frown, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Do you want me to clean them?”

“We don’t have salve anymore, remember?” San says with a nonchalant shrug, brushing it off.

“Still,” you start, glancing behind you. “Even just some water could help.”

Before he can protest otherwise, you rise to your feet. The sound of dripping water can be heard from deeper within the cave, loud enough that you figure it would be a quicker journey than walking back to the shore. Besides, you want to give Woo his space.

Following the dripping, darkness swells around you, the light of the fire fading in the growing distance. You and Seonghwa hadn’t ventured any further than the opening, not wanting to risk stumbling upon any more deadly monsters in your search for shelter. Fortunately, you find the source of the dripping before the darkness becomes too thick. It falls as a steady stream, trailing from the top of the cave, likely sourced by a pond of sorts further up the mountain.

Taking a page from Seonghwa’s book, you rip off the bottom of your tunic, using it as a make-shift cloth as you soak it in the falling stream.

When you make your way back to San, he gives you a soft smile, although it quickly falls as you begin to dab at the scrapes with the shirt-cloth. He winces, attempting to tug his arm away, but you keep your grip on his wrist firm.

You don’t need to explain it to him, he’s surely had enough injuries to know that momentary pain is a small price to pay against infection. He stops pulling, letting his arm fall limp in your grasp. His gaze drifts up from his arm to your face, settling there for a moment, before trailing back down.

“San…” you start, hesitant as you trail the cloth along his skin. Perhaps it is unwise to ask, to risk stirring the pot more than you already have, but you need to know. “Why are you letting me do this? Why aren’t you avoiding me like Seonghwa, or yelling at me like Woo?”

When he doesn’t respond right away, the question quickly turns into a nervous ramble. “I mean, I screwed you over. You need that money, San. How can you just sit there and…and smile at me, knowing what I did to you? To all of you?”

That same soft, sad smile spreads over his lips now as you say those words. He sighs, although it is not a defeated or exhausted sound, more contemplative. When he looks up, his gaze is more gentle than you deserve.

“I probably should be more mad at you, shouldn’t I?” He says, letting out a quiet laugh that’s more a quick puff of air through his nose.

You respond with a nod, pursing your lips together. He sighs. “I guess… I guess I just get it. I know what it’s like to be desperate for something, to do things that you know are wrong and eat you up inside, but it feels like there’s no other option.”

Your brows furrow, watching him carefully. You don’t look away when he meets your eyes, a way of asking without saying anything aloud. He hesitates for only a moment, before swallowing hard, good eye flickering downward and away from yours.

“In the year after Jay killed my family, before I met Woo, I was living in The Cat’s Cradle. I had nowhere else to go, and to work towards paying off my debt, I had to work as his errand boy.”

San swallows hard, squinching his eye shut as if relieving it all. “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of, that I hated myself for then and still do now. Spying on people who had just as little as I had, who were also in debt to Jay, ratting them out. I may not have actually killed anyone, but I may as well have by turning them into him.”

“San…” You start, but trail off as you’re unsure of what to say.

“I guess in a way I always knew it was too good to be true,” San says softly, lip curving upward, although it’s more defeated than anything else. “It would be too easy. Much easier than I deserve.”

You open your mouth to say something, to likely spout your condolences and that he certainly does not deserve what you’ve done to him, but he must not want to hear it.

“I can tell that the world hasn’t been kind to you, just as it hasn’t been to me,” he says, not giving you the chance to speak. “Your family is also dead. Powerful men are also hunting you. You also have nothing left.”

Tears well in your eyes, and he takes the cloth from your hand, setting it down on the ground. He replaces it with his own hand, gentle as his fingers intertwine with yours. “I may be disappointed, but I can’t be mad. It’d be too hypocritical.”

It’s too kind, too understanding. The tears begin to slip from your eyes, and he reaches forward with his other hand to wipe at them, grazing his thumb along your cheekbone. When it makes its way to the corner of your face, he keeps it there, the rest of his hand cradling your head.

“Don’t cry,” he mumbles, thumb rubbing back and forth against your skin. “I said this to make you feel better, not to make you cry.”

“Sorry,” you say, with a breathy laugh. It quickly falters, fading into a stifled sob. Your lip quivers, face contorting inward on itself. Mingi always said you were an ugly crier.

“I’m sorry, San,” you say, and this time it is different. This time it is so much more.

He smiles. “I know.”

The silence that surrounds the two of you is thick. He continues to watch you, eye holding yours. A part of you wants to shy away, knowing how weak you look, the vulnerability in your swollen eyes and trembling lips.

Yet, you don’t, because at the same time you feel safe. You don’t know the last time you felt so truly understood, the last time you were stripped bare. Not lying, not pretending to be someone you are not, not walking on the egg-shells of a mistake.

And in the face of that person - the person that you truly are, horrible faults and all - he does not shy away.

He has seen you unravelled but holds you all the same, and amidst the situation's ugliness, it is the most accepted you have ever felt.

San leans in, slow and careful, like the air has transformed into molasses. His gaze falls, lingering on your lips. Your heart races as he draws closer, quickening beats that echo through you.

When he’s only a few inches away, he stops, and something flickers over his features. Sorrow, hurt, and all the emotions that have been building for so very long. In you, in him, in all of you.

Somehow, you know that this hurt is not about you, about this moment. This pure and vulnerable moment that he does not wish to taint with the pain of something else.

Instead of finding your own, his lips drift upwards, settling onto your cheek. Onto a stray tear that slipped past his thumb, gentle as he removes the wetness from your skin.

He pulls back to place his forehead against your own. He is warm, breath holding that same rich scent of coffee as it did a couple days ago. It’s cozy, comforting, and you feel the need to let him know how deeply you appreciate this. Appreciate him.

“Thank you,” you whisper, sitting in the promise of a kiss, noses brushing but lips never quite touching.

While he does not say anything out loud, the way his hand gently squeezes your own tells you everything that you could have wanted to hear.

Wooyoung pauses at the entrance of the cave. Having followed the flickering light of the fire and the sound of hushed voices, he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to find.

However, whatever he may have anticipated, it was not Seonghwa sitting outside of the cave with his arms drawn around his knees, avoiding the display of you and San huddled around the fire. Your faces are pressed so close together that Wooyoung wonders if the two of you had just finished sharing a kiss.

His eyes are puffy and his nose is stuffed. He feels gross. Wooyoung hasn’t cried in a long time, at least not like that. Maybe since Yeonjun and Winter, which makes sense, as this is the closest he’s felt since then to losing someone he loves. Any tears he’s shed from then on have either been minimal, or born from pure fury. These were neither.

He sits in the entrance for at least a minute, and when it doesn’t seem like the two of you are going to stop any time soon, he walks over to sit with Seonghwa.

The empath glances up at him, letting out a short sigh. “Hey,” he says, shuffling over to make space next to him.

“Hey,” Wooyoung replies, taking a seat. Despite himself, Wooyoung sniffles, and Seonghwa’s gaze darts over. Wooyoung knows that he’s giving him the look without having to meet the blonde’s eyes.

“Do you want me to-”

Wooyoung’s answer is immediate, knowing exactly what it is the empath plans to offer. “No.”

“Alright,” Seonghwa says quietly, casting a glance behind him, at the two of you by the flames. Wooyoung notices that Seonghwa doesn’t seem angry. He’s not fuming or sulking, more so impatient, fingers tapping along his knees as he seems to simply be waiting for the two of you to finish.

Wooyoung doesn’t get it, how Seonghwa handles these things. How he doesn’t explode. How he doesn’t lose himself in anger the way Wooyoung does. How he avoids your gaze rather than stares daggers into it.

He turns to Seonghwa, nodding towards the both of you. “Aren’t you mad?” He asks.

“No… Yes? I don’t know,” Seonghwa starts, a tad frustrated. He leans back so that his head presses against the cave's rocky exterior, lips drawn into a weak smile. “If San can forgive her, I'll let him. It’s not my place to foster grudges for him.”

That’s not really what Wooyoung meant, and he tries to be a little more direct.

“How does it not bother you seeing them like that?” Wooyoung asks, along with the unspoken question: “How do I make it not bother me?”

Seonghwa laughs, although it is low and unhumourous “There isn’t any jealousy to be had, Woo. She isn’t mine to keep. She never has been, even when I thought of it as…more than it was. I always knew that it wasn’t meant to last longer than Kuroku. We’ve just reached the ending a little sooner than I expected.”

When Wooyoung doesn’t respond, Seonghwa shrugs. “If she can bring San a little peace, well, why should I not let her?”

Wooyoung doesn’t know what to say to that. When he looks at you he sees the Libaiyan orphanage, he hears the oath he gave swearing complete obedience to your father three times a day. He thinks of those nights he spent dreaming of your entire family's demise, of what he would give to be the one to set that kingdom on fire.

But he also sees the broken girl crying over the horrors she committed. He sees your worried gaze lifting him from the sauna’s fog and casting him a trusting glance across the table when trying to trick the mimic.

He sees you knees deep in the mud, begging him to understand that you never knew about the orphanages. Tears in your eyes as the two of you were at death's door, whispering about how sorry you were.

How can you be both of those people at once? How can you be his greatest enemy, but also the only person he’s been able to tell the truth about his past?

He hates you. He also doesn't.

Wooyoung doesn't know what to feel. He wishes he could just be angry. It's so much easier to be angry than anything else. Than this, whatever it is.

Wooyoung sighs, casting a glance back at both you and San. You’ve finally pulled apart, backs turned as you both watch the flames. He can hear you whispering, and would be able to eavesdrop if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to hear what San might be saying to you.

With the thought of San returning to his mind, his face immediately feels too hot again, throat scratchy and his eyes wet.

He relives it. San’s cold voice, his defeated laugh, his footsteps following behind him as he left Wooyoung in the chilly, wet sand.

“You would need to give me all of you,” San had said, right after saying it was something that Wooyoung could never do.

The worst part? He’s right.

Wooyoung’s chest aches, and then it begins to shake, convulsing. The sobs rattle within him as he does not allow them to be released from his mouth. San can’t hear him, he will not make this any worse than it already is.

“We’re killing each other, Woo. Or at least… you’re killing me.” San’s words.

“We both loved you, and this is what we get for it?” Winter.

Two different beats to the same drum. Is this what he does to the people he loves? Hurts them? Makes them feel worthless? Kills them, or at least their souls?

He’s always feared of getting too close to San, of what he might do if he let down those remaining walls. If he would hurt him, if he would lose him.

He’s always tried so hard not to lose San. Steering the swordsman away from any perceived danger. From you, initially. Trying to protect him in any way he can. Even when it’s irrational, even when he knows it's only pissing San off, he’s never been able to help himself.

When San threw himself off the cliff, Wooyoung felt the world crumble to ash around him. It was Yeonjun all over again, the moment his head cracked against that rock, and nothing else mattered.

That would not happen to San. Not again, Wooyoung would not let it. He would not lose him.

Well, here he is, having lost him anyway, just in a different way. Perhaps it was inevitable, doomed from the moment they met, yet another curse on the god’s behalf.

Perhaps San is better off without him. Safer.

Wooyoung places his palm over his own mouth, stifling another sob. He feels a hand settle on his shoulder. Seonghwa. Fingers moving back and forth, he rubs the area around his neck in a soothing, comforting fashion.

Wooyoung would normally shove his hand away, tell him to piss off. Don’t get too close to this, don’t trouble yourself with my problems, take your hand away from the flames or else you’re going to get burned.

He doesn’t. Instead Wooyoung lets Seonghwa touch him. He does not move closer, he does not place his head on the empath's shoulder. He does not fully accept it, but he also does not push him away.

And for tonight alone, Wooyoung breaks.

~~~~~

next chapter.

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