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Haechan hates how Moon calls his name. It’s not his true name, obviously, the young wizard would never be so naive as to let that piece of his soul slip out to anyone, especially a foe. His use-name is Haechan and yet Moon pronounces it as if there is some sort of power to it. That makes no sense whatsoever, no use-name has power, it is for the day to day things, a human name, with human meaning and human calling to it. Only the words in the Language of the Making speak to the creations of Earthsea and bring magic upon them. A true-name is not shared lightly and sometimes not even shared at all, for who would a wizard yield his power to?

Even so, Moon’s constant callings for Haechan leave the young wizard feeling queasy. Something isn’t quite right, it feels out of balance in his heart. For him to know what Moon had done to affect the equilibrium, there is only one way. His true-name has to be uncovered, for dragons forbid one of the most gifted students of Roke to be overpowered by that ridiculous wizard who should have never spoken to him.

The first time his eyes set on Moon was on Haechan’s first day at Roke. A school of wizardry should be a place to learn the Names of things and the chanting about dragons, but it was more common for them to learn how to make enemies than any other doing. Haechan was speechless as he arrived at Roke Island, being from the poor isle of Peln, its only richness their old wives’ tales and conversations with the dead. The Great House of Wizardry was, in comparison, a place of amazement. Mages rarely cared about old tales of such and they knew better than to talk to the dead, so they did what was their best doing: learned of Names and their powers.

The islanders were very welcoming as Haechan went past them. They had no requests for him, as he was still a sorcerer and they had the fortune of living below mages, and he strolled until he found himself in front of Roke’s wooden back door. There was no grand entrance for the Great House, as its greatness was kept behind those doors.

Before Haechan could knock, a man opened the door with a smile. Nothing could be said of his age, except that his eyes had an inner glow to them. “I’m the Master Doorkeeper of the Great House of Roke,” he announced, with his rusty, yet powerful voice, “I keep the door. There is only one way to come in. You know what you should say, Haechan.”

The Master said his use-name without even asking Haechan and so he was sure the wiser man could get his true name from him if he so wanted. He didn’t. The challenge to pass through the backdoor was to willingly give your true-name, to trust the Master even before he trusted you.

Haechan gulped, trying to find courage in those glowing eyes. “I’m Donghyuck.”

It was the first time he had spoken it since his name had been given to him. He had refused to share with his family and they didn’t insist. The only other person who had knowledge of it was the one who named him herself. The witch’s use-name was Joy, as most witches liked to be called virtuous things. His parents had been ardently against a naming coming from a witch. “Weak as women’s magic. Wicked as women’s magic,” they repeated the old chanter. Joy didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m not the one creating his name. That’s Earthsea, using the Language of the Making to speak it to me. He will receive the same name from whoever you ask.” She explained, a sweet wicked smile never failing her lips. “Thing is, Haechanie seems rather attached to me than to your arrogant wizards.”

Being so, Haechan was named by a witch. She was the only one to know of it and had never once whispered it to him again after the occasion. Sometimes he found himself forgetting his own true-name. It sounded almost unreal. But whenever he heard it in his own mind, the feeling of power and control washed over.

Master Doorkeeper diligently opened the door for the Great House. Donghyuck walked around and circled himself, trying to understand the structure of such a peculiar castle. The only place he could completely understand was the heart of the school, the Court of the Fountain, where, on the open sky, various trees graced the lawn, and a grand one stood next to the fountain, casting a shadow over it.

Sitting on its borders and under the tree’s shade, a man of almond hair and with skin blessed by the sun played with the water under his fingers, appreciating the sunlight. Donghyuck was too shy to approach, so he only observed. Not long after, another Master -among the Nine in the school- walked in and offered the man a smile.

“Who is the one who watches you, Moon?”

The man, who Donghyuck knew at that moment was Moon, took his eyes from the water under his fingers and turned around to catch sight of the new student for the first time. He looked amusedly puzzled. “I cannot say.”

“You can ask my name,” Haechan spoke, bold and defiant.

The Master laughed loudly. “But what name will you give us if we do? We are too powerful to ask.” With that, he vanished into the darkness of Roke’s halls.

“Don’t mind Master Summoner, Haechan. He talks with the dead and forgets manners with the living.” Moon turned his whole torso to Haechan’s direction and, above his cloak, a moon-shaped necklace could be seen.

“I thought wizards in Roke didn’t mingle with the unliving,” Haechan replied harshly.

Being of Peln, he knew how talking to the dead brought nothing but curses to the land, nevermind the rumors that followed the ones born there. Nothing Haechan did would ever take his Pelnish accent from his mouth or the rumors that he handled with the Old Powers of Earth. His inheritance was something he despised most greatly, but it beyond annoyed him that grand wizards could meddle in what was forbidden only due to their knowledge.

“Mostly, yes. But it’s common for Master Summoners to think they can summon anything they’d like.”

As if snapping back to reality, Donghyuck noticed something: “How did you know my use-name?”

“Haechan? Well, I guess the same way I know others’ true names. I looked.” Moon said with simplicity, not boasting, but simply explaining his method.

He didn’t know then, but now Haechan knows that he had just met one of the most gifted namers in all of wizarding history.

Adjusting to Roke life was easy. Haechan arrived among whispers about his inheritance, about his Pelnish ways and how they stained the Great House of Roke. Many men of Peln had been at the school before him, but they could not wipe out history. Either way, they were not Haechan.

The boy was decided to make a name for himself and so, had the most number of friends possible. He was amicable, with the most varied of connections and tried his hardest to not associate his name to anything that had any trace whatsoever of Peln. The arts of summoning and chanting were, therefore, not explored by him. Sometimes Haechan saw the look on the Master Chanter’s face, clearly disappointed at his lack of effort, but that was erased the minute he reminded himself his own image was at stake.

Only one person wasn’t friends with him in the school and that honor belonged to no one other than Moon. For some reason, that man got under his skin. Not only his peaceful aura was irritating, but his carelessness when it came to his status was clear. He didn’t have any friends, was often seen only with Master Doorkeeper and spent most of the time in his own room. Haechan would spot him going to class from time to time, but Moon was always rushing out of his sight.

Easy for him not to spare anyone a glance, no one cared for another wizard of Havnor, there were already tons of those in the school. Coming from the capital of the archipelago, lots of privileges had pampered Moon enough so he didn’t have to waste his time with social amenities. There was nothing Haechan despised more than spoiled city boys.

Even not making friends, being secluded and hardly trying to make a name for himself, Moon was very much a legend among the school halls already. It was said he could easily pick up use-names without being told, merely searching on the surface of the person’s mind, and that he knew the dragon tongue as his second language.

Haechan was rather perplexed by that man. Having himself a gift for chanters and stories, he looked in the old books to see if that had happened before. Someone who knew human and dragon language alike, almost as if they themselves were human and dragon, was rare, even for myths. Nothing was found besides old songs, but as a Pelnishman Haechan understood the importance of old wives’ tales. He started paying attention to him even more, waiting for something to slip. Perhaps one day Moon would open his wings and fly away, taking all of Haechan’s curiosity with him.

“What is it that you look, Haechan?” Moon asked one day, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the sun in the Court of the Fountain. The mere mention of Haechan’s use name brought him out of the shadows, where he had been observing his rival attentively.

“What’s that, Moon?” He pointed to a small beast, the size of a palm, quietly napping on Moon’s shoulder. It looked like a miniature red dragon, but without wings.

The wizard turned to look at the animal on his shoulder. He gently took it on his hands, waking up the poor thing, but it quickly fell back asleep as he caressed its head.

“That’s my familiar. A hikkari. Her name is Fire.” He informed, a fond smile on his lips. “You can touch if you want to.”

Haechan approached little by little. He had heard of hikkaris before, but they weren’t very common in his land. Slowly, he caressed Fire’s head and she purred, completely satisfied.

“Are we allowed to have familiars here?”

“If you want to, sure. Sparrowhawk has an otak.” Haechan nodded and continued gently touching Fire. His hand accidentally slipped and brushed Moon’s. He retreated it immediately, but not before they exchanged a quick look. “Do you want a familiar, Haechan?”

Still unsure, he nodded again. Moon smiled brighter. Donghyuck only wished he would stop saying his use-name.

His wish wasn’t granted. Apparently, ever since that interaction, he had developed a Moon radar, always noticing when the man was in the room. He also observed how little time he spent in the castle and all those hours he had thought Moon was in his room, he had spent reading books in the Groove.

Not only had his eyes acquired a Moon-sensitive perception, but the apprentice namer himself didn’t seem able to grow tired of calling Haechan constantly. Moon pronounced his name regularly, as he requested his attention for a simple chat, or whenever said conversation took place. Never had Haechan heard his name so often, and his stomach boiled upside down with the mere mention of it.

Moon said his name so often and constantly, that Haechan froze whenever someone else would call him, whoever they were. It was weird no one would pronounce his name with as much sweetness and power to it as Moon. Those were only the start of the young apprentice’s suspicions, but he decided it was no doing of any common wizard, and that he must know Moon’s true-name so they’d be equals.

He had started to think Moon only ever used his name so constantly to attain power over him. There was no other explanation, any calling made Haechan freeze on his feet and feel a weird boiling in his belly.

It was impossible to consider them friends, even with so much time spent together. Haechan would often reply to Moon with a series of passive-aggressive answers, while the other would just nod and move on. Jealousy would always crawl through the younger apprentice’s throat whenever he saw Moon speak in the dragon tongue or when his Havnor accent would slip out stronger than usual. Even with this one-sided unspoken rivalry, the older apprentice acquired a familiar for the younger, a small grey cat called Lor, who yawned a lot, and seldom left his place. Haechan simply adored the kitten, but it didn’t erase his spite towards the older.

The only time he forgot Moon was his foe was when they walked together in the Groove on the other side of the island. Something about that forest was different than any other and Donghyuck could hear it speaking to him. Master Patterner, the one who fended for those woods, told them the trees in the Groove only ever existed in that place from the entirety of the Earthsea archipelago and that their roots were connected to the heart of Eá. There was no power there greater than life itself. In that place, Moon and Haechan were equals, and as they quietly laid side by side in the grass, Haechan found himself wanting to know his name for other reasons.

The apprentice watched with a smile as Fire teased Lor playfully. She was small, even for a hikkari, but had a strong personality, and was often to let Lor dumbfounded and confused with her games. Moon didn’t appear to be in the same mood. He was lost in thought. Haechan would ask him why, but he tried his best to act as if he didn’t care for Moon to simply let it be destroyed by something as simple as his curiosity.

Moon fidgeted on the border of the fountain. His eyes were lost in the water. Fire was almost making Lor fall to the other side and wet himself, but Haechan caught the cat and held him against his chest before the accident unfolded. His eyes turned back to Moon’s, who was looking back at him with decisiveness.

“What is your business with Master Windkey?”

Haechan was shocked by the tone and the matter of the question itself but didn’t allow himself to show it, choosing to pet Lor nonchalantly instead. “Do I ask you your business with Master Namer?”

“You don’t have to. I like the names, Haechan.”

“That much I know.” The bitterness was impossible to miss on his answer. Moon paid no mind and continued on with his questionnaire.

“On the other hand, you don’t like the weather.” Never had anyone accused Haechan of not liking weatherworking. Most mages could sense the gifts of their students, but Haechan was beyond average in almost every class. He wouldn’t tell this to Moon of all people, but in the end, he chose Master Windkey for many paid wizards for clean windy days on their ships. “Tell me.”

“Why would I?”

“Because I’m asking.”

Haechan dropped Lor on the ground and the cat ran to Fire’s encounter. “Will you compel me to say it if I refuse?” he asked defiantly.

As any of the times Haechan was passive-aggressive or slightly mean towards Moon, the other was confused, which annoyed the younger even more. “How would I do that?”

“Calling my name,” Haechan whispered, making Moon approach him to listen better.

“Will you give me your true-name?” he breathed out.

Haechan approached him slowly as if to share with him a secret. “Never.” He retreated to his precious place on the border of the fountain, leaving Moon speechless. “My business with Windkey is my own.”

Moon shook his head, eyes falling back to the water. He looked as disappointed as Master Chanter, Haechan thought, just before he spoke again: “Your heart belongs to chanters.”

Spiteful and angry, for he was sure Moon only ever wanted him to be a Chanter so he wouldn’t be as powerful as him, Haechan grabbed Lor from the ground. “A wizard of Havnor will never tell me where my heart belongs,'' he said, leaving said wizard alone below the shadows of the tree.

After that discussion, little did Haechan see of Moon. The Pelnishman started going to the Groove on his own, as the older apprentice needed to learn the Names in the Isolate Tower. Only having caught a glance at Master Namer’s recluse, Haechan couldn’t quite grasp what Moon was up to, but he had his older friends to hear the tales from.

The tower stood in a cliff, with constant waves crashing on its walls. The students thanked that at least the sea made a sound, for nothing else was spoken. Master Namer would arrive, greet them and start writing thousands and thousands and thousands of Names for every single object in existence, as the apprentices took notes and tried keeping them in mind with much effort. It was torture, but vital in the learning of any wizard, for what spells could they cast hadn’t they known Names?

What saddened Haechan was how Lor seemed to be missing his friend Fire. They always bickered so much and yet now that the hikkari was locked in a tower, the fat grey cat seemed to always be lurking and waiting for her to show. It pained Haechan’s heart to see his familiar spiritless, walking slowly around, barely keeping up with his master’s pace.

Trying to cheer Lor up, Haechan would caress and spoil him the most. Sometimes it looked more like he was holding himself on to the cat than the other way around. Another day of him just running his fingers through its grey fur at the shadow of the fountain’s tree was going by when Lor suddenly raised his head. He had sensed something. Faster than he had moved in the entirety of last month, the grey kitten escaped from Haechan’s fingers, jumping on top of Fire, making the hikkari squeal loudly.

The apprentice laughed at their interaction when it finally struck him why was the hikkari back to the Great House in the first place. His eyes traveled to the man who stood just next to the bickering familiars. “Moon,” Haechan said loudly. It had been only a month and yet his foe looked bigger, taller, and had an easy-going smile on his lips as he stared back at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the Isolate Tower?”

“Do you miss me, Haechan?” Moon asked as he sat next to him at the border of the fountain.

“Stop saying nonsense.”

“I am here for I’ve finished my studies in the Isolate Tower.”

In thirty days Moon had learned all the Names Master Namer could write, and probably a few more. It was unusual how not a whisper had come around about the new record, but he didn’t waste time trying to make a name for himself. When his job was over, he had dutifully taken Fire and came back to finish his learning.

Haechan was almost starting to believe Moon was truly a dragon, for how could he have mastered it so easily. Nonetheless, he brushed the thought aside. Half humans and half-dragons were merely an old wives’ tale and Haechan had abandoned those when he decided to step out of Peln.

“You do have a gift with Names.” He said, failing to hide his amazement.

“And you to tell stories,” Moon answered back, in a calm tone. Haechan turned his head and broke eye contact entirely. “Ignore your gift as much as you want, Haechan. The power of telling stories and seeing their origin is not one to be understood lightly. If you understand the Creation of Eá, you understand the Language of the Making.”

He did not want to argue again with Moon, who was, of course, feeling very proud of himself after learning the Names of things, and went to get Lor back to his room. The cat was much entertained by Fire and did not go to his master, escaping his grasp again. In a clearly annoyed huff, Haechan turned around, alone, leaving Moon unanswered.

Rumors do go by fast, especially in a school made of bored boys that had little to do besides studying. When Haechan first heard the news, whispered to him on his way to meet Master Windkey again, he could not believe it. There was no sense whatsoever to it, but when he saw the rest of the Masters in such a rush through the castle, he had to swallow his own pride and go to Moon’s room.

The now newly graduated wizard’s bedroom was a pure mess. Books were everywhere, the bed was undone and clothes laid on the floor. The only carefully positioned object in the entirety of that room was Moon’s wizard staff that he had gotten from having completed his studies. Haechan gazed at it quickly before his eyes dropped on Moon again.

The wizard didn’t match the state of his room. His hair was only a bit messy, but his cloak was impeccable, and his overall aura was very peaceful when staring at that breathless Haechan, who told him: “You can’t go.”

Moon sighed, as if already expecting that to come from the younger. “Haechan. I know you envy me right now but you do not have the power to talk to dragons.”

They had seen more of each other since the fight, as Lor seemed completely taken by Fire, and had to play with the hikkari at least once every two days or he would start mewling nonstop. Seeing each other didn’t mean they talked much and Haechan rather liked it so. With the new arrangement, he could focus better on unraveling Moon’s mind to uncover his true-name and did not have to feel his feet wobble whenever the older pronounced his use-name.

Nonetheless, when Haechan heard a dragon was terrorizing the villages near Gont, and Roke would send their best dragon-speaker to negotiate, Haechan couldn’t believe that was true. He didn’t want to believe it. For some reason, Moon leaving and perhaps never coming back drew Haechan to near despair.

Although knowing how outstanding of a wizard his rival was, few came back from a talk with dragons. It was not because the creatures were ruthless beasts, but due to it being impossible for humans to lie in the dragon tongue. As it was the animal’s only speech, the magical beasts could do as they pleased, but a wizard should be careful with what he said, or else negotiations would end with his death.

“Dragonlords have spoken to a dragon before they call themselves that,” Haechan said, clenching his jaw.

“There is a first time for everything,” Moon replied, a half-smile on his lips.

The younger wanted to scream. It was humanly impossible for Moon to have never picked a fight with him after so many tries and yet there he was, gazing at Haechan ever so peacefully as if he wasn’t off to talk to a dragon and risk his life.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Of the dragon? No. What it might tell me? Yes.”

Another danger was to be added to the mental list Haechan was writing in his head. Dragons only ever knew the Language of the Making and that meant every word they spoke had power. It would know Moon’s true-name the minute its eyes laid on him and that would give him innate magic over the wizard.

Haechan wanted to beg Moon not to go, to stay there with him, Fire and Lor. He would stop acting ridiculous and acknowledge Moon’s presence, perhaps stop competing with him all the time or trying to get his true-name from his mind. For the Archmage’s sake, he would even give up weatherworking and follow his heart’s desire of chanting. Moon could not leave him and Lor alone to go in his little ship to face off one of the most dangerous creatures in Earthsea. Haechan couldn’t care less that was what Moon had been studying for the entirety of his lifetime, that his calling was to converse with dragons and that the beasts were not as dangerous to him as they would be to any other being in the world. If Moon could stay, everything would be at peace.

Yet, when the Archmage knocked on the room’s open door and Moon walked out of it, Haechan followed him to the harbor silently. He watched, with a whiny Lor leaning to his feet, as Moon set sail on his little boat called Fullsun, while holding himself together in front of his cat, other students and, most of all, Moon.

When the boat was leaving the waters of Roke, Haechan whispered, in the Language of the Making: “Be safe and come back to me,” though little effect it would have in binding the wizard to return.

When Haechan finally had the courage to talk to Master Chanter, the poor man almost cried in happiness. With a voice weak of so much storytelling, the wizard told the apprentice how he had sensed Haechan’s gift for chanters, but did not say a thing, afraid that would change the path the youngling had for himself. Haechan apologized for ignoring his calling and started his studies at that very moment, as he had much to read after not touching a book of songs for so many years.

Busy in the Room of Shelves, where all the lore-books were kept, little did he see of sunlight or human touch. Only his closest friends kept themselves true and checked on the apprentice among his towers of books. Other than those few, Haechan had only the presence of Master Chanter and his always sneezing-through-the-dust Lor.

When news came to his ears of a small ship coming to the harbor after many months, Haechan’s heart started throbbing. He left his books open and did not wait for Lor to wake up before running to the highest hill of the island, where everything could be seen, Roke Knoll, and observed in his loneliness as Moon hopped off from Fullsun. He couldn’t quite see his face or expression as he walked on the harbor, but could notice the cloak was as black as it was months before, the red hikkari rested on his shoulder and his skin was darker due to so many days under the sun. Waiting for him was the Archmage. They talked briefly as Moon tied the ship to land. When he had finished, the dragonlord raised his head, looking straight to the direction of Roke Knoll. Haechan ducked himself under bushes. He waited a few minutes to be sure he had gone away.

Relieved to see the harbor empty, the apprentice made his way back to the school, but when he stepped back to the Court of the Fountain, there was someone already waiting for him, with Lor on his lap purring as the cat cuddled Fire.

Moon raised his head from the clingy familiars and this time his eyes met Haechan. Months had gone by and yet he looked the same. Sure, his cloak had some mends to it and his hair was longer, but the eyes were the same, his left cheek scar was still there and his lips still curled in the same smile, kinder as ever. Haechan walked slowly to sit next to him. He didn’t quite know what to do with his hands and so started caressing Lor. Their hands accidentally brushed and their eyes met again.

“Why do you wish to call me?” Moon asked, deadpanned. The younger retreated his hand instantly as if the other’s hand was on fire. “I feel you going through my mind, Haechan. I’ve also seen you being amicable towards Master Doorkeeper. He will not tell you.”

There were many things going through the apprentice’s mind and yet he could simply whisper: “You only noticed now.”

Moon had stopped caressing Lor, and being so, the cat, along with the hikkari, jumped off his lap. “You’re a fool if you think that, for I noticed immediately. Only recently Ylsir warned me there was something to it I couldn’t quite see.”

“Dragonlords are all the same. One conversation with a dragon and it’s all they can talk about for their lifetime,” Haechan said with debauchery while rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry if I sound arrogant but he was the one who asked me to pay attention to the ones who look for my name. They might not want to overcome me,” Moon paused after his last sentence, to observe Haechan attentively.

“I want to know how you can convey power saying use-names.”

“I do no such thing.”

The apprentice was losing his patience. “Sure you do! Every time you say my use-name it’s weird, my senses tingle. It makes no sense. Tell me, what is your power?”

He wished Moon would answer him on the spot, but the wizard seemed taken by something else. His eyes acquired a glow, such a the moon’s glow in the night, and he bit his bottom lip, before asking in a faint whisper: “Oh, are sweet boys from Peln not taught what love is?”

“Wizards shouldn’t love, it weakens their gift,” Haechan said with decisiveness. Yet, something in Moon’s eyes compelled him closer and made him doubt his statement.

“And yet you seem more powerful each day,” The wizard murmured, hand cupping Haechan’s face with care. “Don’t be frightened, you’re not alone in this feeling.”

The apprentice was hypnotized by a second but quickly woke to his senses, escaping the other’s touch. “Stop saying nonsense, Moon.”

“If you want my name, I will tell you. Just ask it.”

“What’s your name?” Haechan asked, eyes focused on his.

“My name is Taeil, the one who loves Haechan to the moon and back,” He spoke in the Language of the Making as if it was his native tongue. Haechan watched Taeil with new eyes, a new understanding of the man before him. He whispered his true-name to himself, in a volume too low for the other to possibly listen, but Taeil fidgeted at it because it was his true-name and he knew when it was spoken.

Haechan waited for him to say something, but Taeil was pliantly waiting for him. The younger finally decided to ask, “Will you not say my name back?”

Taeil shook his head, “I do not know your true-name, Haechan. I could, if I wanted to, but I did not. I am strong and wise enough to take it from you and trick you into saying it. Yet, none of it would bring me any happiness. Therefore I am content staying here, waiting for you to tell me your name because you wish to do so.”

Haechan could feel his heart throbbing. He caught Taeil’s hand and whispered in the true-language something for his ears alone: “I’m Donghyuck. A storyteller that couldn’t see what was right in front of his eyes.”

His lips brushed on Taeil’s ear as he whispered those last words, and he felt the wizard shivering under his touch. Taeil murmured back his true-name, and Donghyuck was the victim of chills that time around. Slowly, they distanced each other, still holding hands. Donghyuck felt like he was seeing Taeil with new eyes for a second time, for one thing, was when he knew his name, another entirely was when they had that power over each other. They had finally achieved what Donghyuck had wanted without knowing: to be equals.

With an excited smile, Taeil grabbed his hand and, not minding for any gossiping eyes in the halls, guided Donghyuck to his room. Their familiars followed, Fire only being able to keep up because she was on Lor’s back. When all of them were finally behind four walls, Taeil suddenly stopped, insecurity striking him visibly. Donghyuck had never seen him like this, the wizard had always been so certain of what to say and do, to see him stop and sit on his bed was a new sight entirely. The apprentice sat next to him and held his hand again.

“Do you know the Name for kiss?” Donghyuck asked, with fake ingenuity to his tone. Taeil answered without a second thought. The younger furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t get that, can you teach me?”

Letting out a relaxed chuckle as he whispered Donghyuck’s name, Taeil leaned his forehead against the younger’s. Their lips touched, in a shy attempt from one to show the other his feelings. Softly they set apart, both smiling brightly. Donghyuck never knew he could feel more shivers than when Taeil called him his use-name, but he was starting to understand that was mere training for everything else Taeil would make him feel.

Many years passed since the afternoon Taeil returned after speaking to Ylsir. Donghyuck finally concluded his studies at the same time the Master Namer passed away. When Taeil was asked to take his place, he politely declined, claiming he had many places to travel to be sure Roke was his home. Hardly ever did anyone decline a post that only was offered once in a lifetime, but Master Doorkeeper was more than happy to bid Taeil goodbye once he crossed his door. When Donghyuck tried to leave, with the mission of traveling to faraway shores to write down tales and songs forgotten by the books, the Master stopped him with his staff and asked a simple question.

“When you came here, Donghyuck, you had to give your name. To leave, you have to speak mine.”

It was said that countless were the students that never left Roke for they could not possibly answer Master Doorkeeper’s secret question. They were satisfied taking care of the school or working for the village, but saw nothing beyond the isle’s shore. However, many things had Taeil taught Donghyuck, and they would come in hand in the most unusual of times.

“What is your name, Master?”

With a smile, the Doorkeeper told him, and Donghyuck spoke it back to him. He walked down the hill carrying his staff and with Lor on his trail, on his way to meet Taeil at the harbor, who had Fire on his shoulder. They silently untied Fullsun together and Donghyuck smiled, knowing Taeil had named the boat after his use-name, as Haechan meant Fullsun in Hardic. When the older had confessed to him the meaning behind it, Donghyuck couldn’t help but place thousands of kisses all over his cheeks, chuckling and blushing with happiness.

After the ship set sail, the wind was carefully messing with their hairs and Roke Island could not be seen anymore, Taeil gently placed his hikkari next to Lor. He kissed Donghyuck passionately and they laughed at the face of unbelievable freedom, ready to navigate through all of Earthsea in search of adventures of Names and chanters. Taeil held Donghyuck’s hands tightly and the younger nodded, giving him the permission he asked for. It would only be needed a blink to miss the wizard being consumed into flames that didn’t burn. There was no more sight of two wizards in a boat, just one with two familiars. If someone would look at the sky, they’d see a dragon, flying low, almost as if to keep the boat safe. Donghyuck looked above, to the dragon guiding him to the edges of the world, and knew at that moment there was no Name for how Taeil made the most elaborate of Songs come true.