Archive of Our Own

Bright bells ring behind the top corner of the door that has just been pushed open, a black boot placed first, followed by another. Seokjin stands in the entrance of Hoseok’s joint for a moment before he senses it.

He’d known as soon as he stepped into the place; could feel it in the magical reverberations in the ground, in the way the air shimmered in front of his eyes and the incessant twitch of his left ear, tinged with all colors of the rainbow (not that anybody could see it - the colors were his soulmate mark, after all).

“Jin-hyung?” Hoseok asks, worry lines appearing on his forehead as he studies Seokjin but the hunter’s focus has tunnelled, the rest of the world blurring away in ripples. 

There was a dragon hiding among the people in the room.

Kim Seokjin has been a hunter for almost five years now. He’s twenty-six years old with fifty years of experience under his belt, thanks to his family; they were part of the Sanchun clan, who protected the lands of Yinsang all the way to the border of the main trading path to the big city, Jungshik. The merchant road and the edge of their territory covered almost the entirety of the mountains and the forests in between, green stretching in seamless waves up to the snow-capped peaks.

Dragon hunting ran in his family; dragons in their area had been an evil that ravaged mortal lands for years and decades if left alone - killing helpless humans and destroying whole farms of crops that fed the villages purely for the joy of it. The dragons here were unique in their ability to pass as humans for short amounts of time - enough time to lure unsuspecting people into their forest lairs, where they transformed and devoured their prey. No conscience, no guilt; they only knew the chase.

It’s unfortunate for them that Seokjin only knew the hunt as well.

The chime of the doorbells brought Seokjin’s attention back to the present. A dragon had snuck into the popular cafe and Seokjin knew he would find it. His eyes scanned over each person in their seat; his clan's skills in dragon hunting weren't limited to superior physical skills. It wasn't incredible aim, accurate hearing or even heightened tactile sense - magic flowed through his veins that honed in on a dragon's very presence and location. If dragon blood existed anywhere in his vicinity, his vision dyed the area around it with a purple hue.

The east side covered, Seokjin turns his eyes to the west end of the hall. He finally comes to rest on the last booth at the far end, a young boy seated and holding a large sandwich between his hands, the contents half-spilling out of the slices of bread. His mouth is round and open, eyes slightly bulging  in an almost comical way, until he shifts his gaze from his meal to look directly into Seokjin's eyes. If it were possible, his eyes widen further and the color in Seokjin's vision trembles violently, almost spanning his entire line of sight.

Seokjin stumbles backwards and blinks. In the millisecond of his eyes closing and opening, the boy has jumped over the seat and run into the forest behind the building, coins of payment left on the table next to the abandoned food. Seokjin's instincts kick in and he takes off in a sprint after it. Dragons, when shifting from human to their true form, could only take flight once they had run for a few acres.

Seokjin could catch up to it in half that time.

The section of forest area they race into is thick; a mixture of low-hanging and high-reaching trees and bushes passing him by as he tries to catch up with the dragon. He catches the scent trail of the creature on the tree trunks, tinted in light green smears. Seokjin is deep in the woods now, the atmosphere teeming with energy and sunlight pushing through where it could.

He comes to a stop as the trail drops suddenly, before finding it again with winds from the east. He slows to a jog, hyper-focusing his hearing; his bow held out with a poisoned arrow already notched pointing downwards. There's silence for a few moments; the only sounds are his own muted breathing, the blood in his ears, and the occasional movement of the beetles crawling on twigs.

He hears a crunch and he whips backward, elbow pulled back and arrow pointed at the dragon's face, inches away from its nose (Why hadn't it shifted yet? Dragons were always more powerful in their true form); the arrow-tip glistens with poison in the brief ray of sun and the dragon holds its hands up, palms facing Seokjin and parallel to its face - the most vulnerable position.

"Who are you?"

The dragon swallows; it still hasn't transformed. Its human form is oddly unfitting - tall and well-built, with broad shoulders (similar to Seokjin only just that bit smaller) but the expectation ends there - it’s chosen a young form, hair grown out slightly to cover its ears and falling just past its eyes and parted to the side. A white flower sits with hair tucked behind its ear and it leaves itself open to attack, as if insinuating that it wasn't dangerous.

"I know what I look like. I can also tell you that I'm not what you think I am. I know what your magic senses are telling you but they're wrong."

At that, Seokjin scoffs. His magic was never wrong. He'd seen this act before; he'd seen dragons disguised as children, as older men and women, even injured people. The dragon couldn't fool him.

He pulls the bow even more taut and is ready to fire - the dragon sees that and speaks again.

"Please, don't. You'll regret it if you do. I don't want to hurt you." it insists.

That's the last straw for Seokjin; he isn't about to listen to a dragon's threats and allow it the chance to escape.

"I don't believe in regrets, dragon." Seokjin says, and releases the arrow.

Several things happen at once; Seokjin sees the arrow leave the bowstring and then explode into a rain of daisies. He's surely imagined that; it was impossible. At the same time, he is yanked feet first up to the tree line, surrounded by golden nets with a translucent force-field glimmering. He finds his wrists tied in similar golden ropes, and can see his bow stranded on the ground, the dragon staring up at him with a disappointed expression.

"Let me down from here and face me like the evil thing you are, dragon." Seokjin snarls, struggling in the hold.

The dragon sighs. "I told you that you'd regret it! And stop calling me dragon, I told you; I'm not what you think I am."

"And I'm a young child searching for fruit; release me and I'll show you." Seokjin wrestles against the magic but his body just bounces away from it. Upside-down, high up near the treeline, far from the edge of the woods and hands tied, there’s no way for him to even reach emergency signals.

"That's not fair, I'm trying to tell you the truth and you mock me." It frowns. Its mouth drops into a pout, demeanour petulant and annoyed - as if Seokjin had offended it in some way, causing it such  an inconvenience.

Dragons never made such conversation. What was this creature?

"I'll ask again. Who are you?" Seokjin asks.

"How does a compromise sound? I'll let you down and answer all your questions if you promise not to attack me! How is that?" It proposes.

Seokjin pretends to consider the thought, and then nods his head. As soon as his feet touch ground, his hands reach for the blade by the side of his waist and propels it straight for the dragon's forehead but, like the arrow, it too erupts into daisies, slowly drifting in the breeze until it reaches the forest floor.

He gapes at his dagger, converted into flowers on the ground. That was - it was ludicrous. It couldn’t have been - that was Elemental magic. The last known encounter of Elemental magic had been more than two hundred years ago and yet, here the dragon stood - having transformed his knife into flowers in a snap of a second.

The ropes return to his wrists and bind his knees, shins bent under his thighs as he’s essentially forced to kneel in front of the dragon’s form. The more he pushes against the bindings, the tighter it gets; it’s an amazing spell that any other day, Seokjin would be immensely interested in if it weren’t being used to currently keep him captured. 

Seokjin narrows his eyes at the dragon. "How did you do that?"

The dragon holds its arms out in a passive gesture. "I'll explain everything, but will you please promise to stop attacking me? I don't want to hurt you."

"How do I know you won't kill me?"

"If I wanted to kill you, wouldn't I have done that already?"

"How am I to know that? What if you want to roast me for an extra special smoke flavour?"

The dragon sputters. "What? No! I don't want to eat you! I was eating before you decided to chase after me!"

There’s anger spitting in increments in his body; he’s never felt this powerless and exposed since he was a child, but the dragon had managed to chain him in place without breaking a bead of sweat. He was one of the best hunters this generation had seen, and if his family could see how easy it had been to capture him, they would  laugh . 

Seokjin glowers at him. "If you're not what you say you are, then why did you try to escape?"

The dragon rolls its eyes. "I ran because I knew you'd see me that way and wouldn't hesitate to kill me on sight."

"And I'm supposed to believe you're not what I know you are?" Seokjin taunts.

The dragon schools his face into a stoic expression. "I'm saying you're wrong, Seokjin-ssi."

Seokjin and his family are fairly well-known in the community; he's not surprised the dragon knows his name. He has to admit he's intrigued though - the dragon had all the signs pointing to its existence and yet its behavior was a completely different story.

Seokjin sits uncomfortably, bound wrists in his lap. He's itching to reach for the other knife in the inseam of his harness but he can recognize when he's at a disadvantage. This dragon is something Seokjin has never seen before.

"If you're not a dragon," Seokjin starts, "then what are you?"

At this, the dragon beams. "I'm a wizard."

Seokjin had heard  fables of nations so far from their own, by travelers who braved the wicked seas to make trade; stories where dragons were wise creatures who served on the councils of kingdoms. He had heard the myths passed down in his family, of ancient times when wizards walked the earth and wielded Elemental magic.

Witches with healing powers were commonplace; seers who predicted certain paths in the future of someone seeking their aid were available in every village - even humans imbued with fae magic who were astonishingly talented with their gardens and crops. Elemental magic, though - the power over the elements and more, much, much more - had died out a long time ago.

Seokjin would know; his great-great-great grandmother had been the fatal stab into the last Elemental wizard. She had never betrayed the reason why - the members speculated but at the end of the day, the altercation had never been questioned.

He withholds that information though; there would be no purpose to divulging it - he already stands at the wizard's mercy.

"What's your name?" He asks.

"My name?" the dragon/wizard says, pointing to his chest with his thumb.

"No, that tree over there - yes, of course you!" Seokjin retorts.

"Oh." He pauses. "Jungkook."

Huh. What a regular name. "Okay, Jungkook . Prove it."

"Prove what?"

"That you're a wizard," Seokjin clarifies.

Jungkook raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Was the sudden transformation of your weapons into flora not enough?"

"I blinked when it happened," Seokjin denies. "How do I know they were not a trick of the light?"

"Okay," he agrees. "Fair. What would you like to see as proof?"

Seokjin ponders over that; what would be sufficient proof of the boy's supposed powers? He remains reluctant to believe him and yet. A small part is curious to see; to see if this boy is  indeed what he says he is. If he truly has Elemental magic.

He catches sight of a boulder at the edge of his vision. Perfect.

"Bring that boulder over here."

"That one?"

"Yes. Bring it in front of me and I'll believe you."

Seokjin raises his head and smirks. Even if he doubts himself, he can't reveal that to the supposed wizard. There was a reason wizards hadn't been seen in so long, and Seokjin was not prepared to take the chance that this interaction would head south very soon.

Jungkook squints his eyes at the large rock and there's a rumbling sound coming from the direction he looks at. Seokjin's vision thrums with energy, the hair on his arms standing on end as he feels the magic in the air; he wants to blink but he's afraid he'll miss something if his eyelids are closed for even a fraction of time. The boulder lifts a foot above ground, slowly travelling across the space between the two beings and its previous home.

Seokjin maintains a cool facade as he watches the rock drop to the side of them, but inside, a voice screams that he has hallucinated what just happened. The boy standing before him can't be a wizard. He simply can't be.

"You're really a wizard?" Seokjin asks.

Jungkook scratches behind his neck. "Yes...Now do you believe me? Do you trust that I'm only telling you the truth?"

Seokjin swallows, throat dry as thoughts run wild in his mind.

"Yes."

"Does that mean if I release you, you won't try to kill me?"

"Yes." No.

Jungkook claps and Seokjin raises his eyebrows at his immaturity. Who was this powerful yet childish being?

Jungkook snaps and the ropes around Seokjin's knees and wrists dissipate, golden glitter flying in the air and hugging the greenery around them. He stands wobbling slightly, rubbing at the redness of his wrists, and Jungkook takes a step closer, hand held out. "I'm sorry, I forget how hard the restraints are sometimes, let me see-"

To be fair, Seokjin can't be blamed for his reaction. Everything in his body, which he trusts incredibly so, is telling him that Jungkook is dangerous. An enemy.

There's another dagger, a family heirloom, at Jungkook's throat, forearm pushed against his neck and back against the trunk of an oak tree, old with bark sticking into Jungkook's back.

"One wrong move, and even your magic tricks can't stop the blade from cutting you. Am I clear?"

With the minuscule amount of movement he can make, Jungkook nods his head. The flower in his hair has fallen out of his hair now and lays next to their feet, and Seokjin glares into Jungkook's eyes.

“Look, I told you. I’m not what you think I am.” 

“My magic isn’t wrong; why does it tell me you’re a dragon?”

“It’s because my shifting form is a dragon, unfortunately my blood reads that way. My true form is mortal.”

“Why do I find that difficult to believe, hm?” Seokjin breathes.

“That’s not my problem. I gave you evidence but here we stand - your knife at my throat.”

“Don’t be clever with me.” 

There’s a humming sound reaching Seokjin’s ears but he doesn’t turn away. 

"You shouldn't be alive. How are you existing now? Where have you been hiding?"

Jungkook remains silent, head raised to meet Seokjin's scathing look. Jungkook’s eyes slowly swish into a beautiful lavender, deep and welcoming.

Seokjin presses his blade a bit closer to Jungkook's skin, an indent forming at the side of his neck but just shy of breaking skin.

"I asked you a question. Answer me, wench."

Jungkook's eyes darken at the derogatory name; with it, the sunlight that was shining on the forest abruptly disappears, skies replaced by rolling dark clouds, lightning flashing followed by the beginning roars of thunder. Seokjin falters at the sight, but keeps on. The air around the pair is charged, and his gut continues buzzing with the imminent threat of danger.

"I suggest you watch your words, hunter ," Jungkook growls. "I've been pleasant so far but I won't accept any more disrespect. Let me go. I told you, I'm not interested in harming you."

Seokjin is skeptical but his moral compass has to be trumped in favor of survival. He steps back, releasing the wizard and just like that, the clouds disappear and the world brightens instantly. Distantly, a mockingbird begins singing like a nightingale, tune high and pretty.

Jungkook leans away from the tree, a hand rubbing at his back as he winces. Seokjin blinks. His knife remains in his grip as he observes the dragon - no, wizard - shake a hand in his hair before looking at Seokjin, bowing once and walking further into the forest, feet careful of fallen trees and debris.

There are questions bouncing in Seokjin’s mind like elastic bands; despite being trained better, all the lessons and tutelage he had. 

Jungkook stops ahead and turns back to Seokjin. "Are you not coming?"

He gawks. "Why would I?"

"I thought you'd want more proof." Jungkook shrugs. “If you don’t, that’s fine with me. I’m not bothered.” He resumes his way.

Seokjin pauses to think for a second; he weighs his options. On the one hand, this boy isn't a dragon so this, in strict terms, isn't a part of his business. On the other hand though, he is a wizard - an unknown threat that Seokjin hasn't accounted for. From what he knew, of the countless myths and fables his family had relayed in bedtime stories, wizards shouldn't be alive now. They shouldn't be trampling all over a bed of marigolds, apologizing profusely to them, and then growing another set within a blink of an eye.

Yet that's what he sees Jungkook do, in that exact moment.

"Wait!" Seokjin calls.

The boy twists to see Seokjin jogging up to him.

"I want more evidence."

Jungkook nods. "Okay. We'll need to go to my home."

"If that's what it takes, then I'll accompany you there." Seokjin holds his palm facing upwards. "I'd like my arrow and knife back, please."

"Uh..." Jungkook says, a red blush rising to his cheeks. "I can't actually bring them back."

"You can turn my weapons into flowers but you can't turn them back?"

"Ha, you see, um.” The wizard laughs, breaking eye contact. “I haven't learnt that magic yet."

Seokjin sighs. "Okay. Let's just go."

The wizard lights up, smiling wide. His front teeth are slightly larger and sticking out but clean. Seokjin can make out a small mole on his nose, a scar running downwards from eye line to mouth, thin but raised and jagged. It looks like it would have been a painful wound.

"Follow me!" He says, and begins crossing the forest floor again.

Seokjin knows this was dangerous. He’s crossing uncharted wooded areas without preparation but something edges him on to follow after the wizard. His curiosity is bubbling inside him precariously but he can't stop himself, an itch that can’t be scratched away.

Seokjin can't resist. He needs to know more.

It’s a fifteen-minute walk through the trees; neither Seokjin nor Jungkook say a word to each other. The only remarkable things are Jungkook's occasional waves to someone out of Seokjin's line of sight - he can only make out quivering dust and shades of glitter around branches and bushes of leaves.

He kicks his foot against a spiderbeetle's web which snaps back into place with an elastic force. "Who do you keep signalling?" Seokjin asks.

"There are some forest nymphs who like my artwork; we meet once in a while for tea to gossip about the water lilies," Jungkook offers, and then turns to Seokjin with an incredulous expression. "You wouldn't believe some of the things the lilies do. Scandalous even for a progressive valley like this one."

Seokjin understands maybe two things from what Jungkook has just said; he'd thought nymphs were also legend and - how would a valley even be progressive? What does that even mean?

"So...forest nymphs are your...friends? You've been here a while then," he deduces.

Jungkook ponders at that. "Hm, I wouldn't say so. I never really know where Saeng transports the house but it's the longest we've stayed in one place for longer than a few months."

He waves at something else - someone else - before speaking again.

"And about the nymphs...I really can't say. They seem to like my aura so they always befriend me."

They pass the border of an enormous field of daffodils, tides of yellow swaying with the strong breeze blowing against them.

"We're almost there." Jungkook comments.

This close to his house, magic begins interfering with Seokjin's tracking abilities, land shifting and undulating in repetitive movements; even if he tried, he wouldn't know where they are.

As they continue their path, Seokjin sees Jungkook huff out in annoyance at the hair blowing into his face and dip fingers into the pockets of his trousers to retrieve a colorful band. Jungkook gathers as much hair as he can and ties the band into a ponytail at the top of his head; a few sections of hair escape the band's grasp to lie on his forehead but his eyes are significantly less covered.

Finally, Jungkook begins to slow down just outside of a clearing, a one-story cottage coming into view. Its roof isn't a regular roof; instead, the ground rises to mold with the ceiling of the place in a curve and comes back down, vivid green grass growing on top. There's a wooden door with a variety of signs and a square window with several potted flowers carefully arranged on the sill.

In front of the house is a neatly organized garden, divided by a stone pathway leading to the door. The side to Seokjin's left holds numerous vegetables - pumpkin toes, baby watermelons, even some ripe-looking tomatins. He passes his hand over the fence on the right side, the wood sanded smooth and bare of splinters.

Little herb plants in clear rows in soil are on the other side; most green but some yellow, purple and even two that look suspiciously blue and pink. He almost thinks he sees the blue herb swat one of the pink leaves but rubs his eyes and they're both stock-still.

The door opens without any force, as if moving by its own accord. They step through the threshold inside, shaded and cool - protected from the harsh afternoon sun.

The house looks - well, it looks like Seokjin's own home. There's a large set of cushions on wooden chairs in the living area, behind a plush rug in the center of the floor. To the side, there's a wooden dining table with shelves of pickles and herbs behind it; the kitchen remains hidden by a wall separating the main room.

Jungkook removes his coat and it floats onto the hanger behind the door; a little ball of yellow light nudges Seokjin's shoulder.

"She's asking for your harness."

Seokjin wraps a protective hold on the main strap of his harness, fingers slipping under. The quiver is heavy but he isn't about to remove his weapons in a stranger's home, even if he has entered willingly.

"Thanks. I'll keep it on." 

Jungkook shrugs. "It’s your choice. I already told you I’m not interested in hurting you. Take a seat."

“It’s more a precaution, really.” 

Seokjin pads his way further inside slowly, wary of any traps that may erupt from the walls. He lowers himself into the soft chair, noting the paintings hung on the walls.

"Would you like some food, Seokjin-ssi? I'm making noodles for myself," Jungkook prompts.

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. "How do I know you don't want to poison me?"

Jungkook comes out from the kitchen to lean against the frame. His arms are crossed, biceps bulging slightly against the material of his top. For the first time, Seokjin pays attention to the wizard's wardrobe and has to confess to himself that - well, that it’s impressive. 

He wears a silky smooth shirt, the neckline dipping low and wide enough to see the lines of his pectoral muscles matched with loose blue pants tied by a drawstring at the waist. Jungkook is a handsome man, not so young-looking with fewer layers covering his body.

He’s still certainly a couple of years younger than Seokjin. There’s youth in his eyes, in the way he behaves - if the unruly hair isn’t a direct clue. 

"How old are you?"

"Old enough."

"That's not an answer."

"I didn't say I'd give one."

Jungkook returns to the kitchen; Seokjin hears the bustle of pots and pans. A brief pause after running water and then  the sizzle of ingredients meeting oil and heat.

He takes the time to study the paintings some more before he sees a dusty lamp on a metal table, the shade painted deep blue with yellow and white dots; like stars in the night sky. The glass of the body is cracked in the middle. Seokjin almost reaches a hand out to touch it but decides against it.

The room is lit up by an intricate chandelier, clear of any webs or dust. It's in pristine condition, shedding clear yellow light into all corners of the room. Odd for a light source to be so clean but considering where the day was going, he didn't need to be asking.

He already had more questions than answers.

The clink of chopsticks and bowls brings Seokjin's notice to Jungkook levitating a large pot to the dining table, a thick cloth moving itself into place for the hot vessel to rest on. Seokjin's feet move automatically, taking a seat for himself. Across from him, a chair moves backwards for Jungkook to sit in, and pushes itself inwards as he dips a chopstick into the pot, shaking the noodle strands inside for the steam to rise.

It smells delicious; Seokjin would know, being a superb cook himself.

He watches Jungkook spoon portions into two bowls, sliding one in front of Seokjin and then one in front of himself. A tiny bowl with salt floats onto the table between the two of them. He sees Jungkook grumble before digging into his bowl but Seokjin doesn't eat just yet. He needs to see Jungkook consume the food before he starts.

He knows the wizard can sense the hostility; Jungkook rests his elbow, wrist bent down with chopsticks in hand as he sizes Seokjin up. He chews, exaggeratedly so, and swallows with clear movements, notch in his throat visibly moving up and then down.

The message is clear: Take the risk.

Seokjin frowns and picks up the other pair of chopsticks, stabbing the food in the bowl and stuffing his mouth with noodles. Begrudgingly, Seokjin acknowledges the flavors go naturally well together; he hadn’t seen the process but his instinct remains distrustful.

"You know, this is actually quite well done." Seokjin says through a bite.

"I'm a decent cook. My teacher taught me well," he responds, tone monotonous. “He had stressed on my cooking lessons even more than my magic training sometimes; said all the spells in the world wouldn’t help if I died of hunger from not cooking.”

“It seems like he was sincere about your well-being.”

Jungkook hums and doesn’t reply.

"It's missing something though."

"Oh?” The sound of Jungkook dropping his chopsticks on the table is loud; he rests his chin between his laced fingers, face carefully plain and radiating suppressed anger. “Pray tell, your majesty, what could my palace-worthy dish be missing?"

The sarcasm drips from Jungkook's words like old honey, missing the obvious sweetness.

"There's no need to take it personal; you just need dried chili powder."

Jungkook blinks at him. "I put fresh chilies...do they not give the same flavor?"

"No! Chili powder gives an extra kick of spice and roasted aftertaste." Seokjin points out. "Believe me, I know what I'm talking about."

Jungkook stares at him, intermittently chewing loudly.

"Why should I? All you've done since we've met is attack me and then call me a liar." Jungkook says, lifting the bowl to his lips and tilting it up to drink the remaining liquid.

Seokjin flicks a stray dust mote to avoid dealing with the unfortunately, very correct statement. Even he has to admit he'd been wrong; as if all the household items moving without touch isn't proof enough, the ball of light flying around aimlessly

"Please appreciate that this is very hard for me to say. I think," Seokjin clears this throat, "that I owe you an apology. People have only told me that wizards died out centuries ago so you can imagine my disbelief when you came along and said you were what you were."

Jungkook is leaning back in his chair, spheres of light holding the first two legs as the back legs take his weight. A resounding thud vibrates the floor as his chair levels back against it. There’s stillness around the room, just Jungkook scrutinizing Seokjin; Seokjin levels him a similar look, hoping his honesty is conveyed.  

"Apology accepted." Jungkook smiles, no hint of resentment or anger on his face.

Seokjin is left speechless; that was rather quick.

Jungkook stands, gesturing upwards and all the vessels begin moving above the table and flying into the kitchen sink.

"I don't get a lot of humans here, as you can tell," he babbles. "There's only so much conversation the garden grasshoppers can make and those things only want to talk about the recent trends in winter storage."

Seokjin moves from the table to sit on the cushioned chairs, this time dropping with less finesse. He springs back up before settling into the backrest. His third knife is still easily accessible, as are the tranquilizing darts near his foot. He'd never leave himself vulnerable, no matter how harmless this kid seemed but he finds himself feeling guilty for having thought such ideas; it’s obvious that if Jungkook really wanted to, he could have ended Seokjin’s life when they’d first run into the forest. 

Nothing is stopping him now as well, to be honest. But Seokjin tries to push those thoughts away - it isn’t fair that Jungkook had invited him to his home, offered him food and Seokjin continues to act as though there is an ulterior motive. 

"It’s tiring to listen to them say the same thing over and over again. I’m sure you understand, Seokjin-ssi," Jungkook mentions.

"You can call me hyung, I’m certain I’m older than you. How did you come to be here?"

"Jumping right to it, I see," Jungkook says, scooting further into his own seat. He points to the broken lamp he had seen earlier. "See that light?"

"Yes."

"The body of the lamp contains the spirit of my ancestor."

Seokjin reels back and whips his head to the old lamp.

"That dusty, broken thing?"

"Surprising right? Grand-master Saeng is weirdly resilient, though I’ve heard they were quite the rebel in their day.”

Seokjin, seeing the significance of the lamp, studies the body again; suddenly, the surface of the glass swirls in spiral and he sees the image of an older person - long and glowing purple hair, assorted necklaces and pendants lying across the chest and forehead, directly meeting Seokjin’s eyes; they wink and then laugh with their head thrown back when Seokjin’s face blanches. The figure disappears as soon as he’d seen it. 

It seems distressing for a moment but they’ve gone now.

“That’s an...interesting visual.” 

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

Seokjin tilts his head. “Your ancestor? I’ve never been winked at by a spirit!”

Jungkook’s jaw drops open. There’s a pause of conversation for a few moments, where Seokjin rewinds, unsure of what has happened. 

“You shouldn’t be able to see them, Seokjin-ssi,” Jungkook says, shaking his head. The ponytail from earlier jerks with the abrupt movement but it’s almost as if he’s saying it to himself; like it couldn’t be real.

Almost like Seokjin when they had met just some time ago.

“I didn’t conjure the image with my own imagination, Jungkook-ssi. Does it mean something?”

“It means-” Jungkook stifles a laugh. “It means they like you.”

Well, that’s quite flattering. Seokjin knows adults who speak well of him and his behaviour but to have a wizard ancestor say the same? Not in his repertoire, for sure. Jungkook yawns absentmindedly, the back of his hand covering his mouth as he does so.

“It’s late,” Seokjin says, rising to his feet. “I should be returning home now.”

Jungkook nods and walks with Seokjin to the door, handing a small pouch with one of the light spheres inside.

“Here, this will be your compass. The magic of the house doesn’t allow for strangers to enter or leave so wherever the light takes you, follow it,”he explains, and even now Seokjin can see rapid vibrations within the cloth material. “If you need to come back, for whatever reason, it will know and show the way. I should warn you; it will only do so if someone has no intentions of harm.”

Seokjin nods. “Thank you.”

“I also have to ask that you not tell anyone about me; there’s a reason you haven’t seen wizards in so long. I’d like to keep it that way.” Jungkook’s anxiety seeps through his words; it sounds like a request but is far from being so forgiving if it were not carried out.

“Of course.”

Seokjin takes the pouch from Jungkook’s hand; warmth spreads through his fingertips and palm as it whirs inside. He gives Jungkook one last glance before trekking into the forest, the pouch pulling his hand into the direction for home. Of all the plans he had for the day, this was not the way he expected it to go.

He can’t think of a reason why he would come back; after all, what purpose would it serve?

“Jungkook? Jungkook, you in there?”

“Hyung? Is everything okay?”

“Uh. Yes, I was just - I was hoping I could borrow some of the moonshine if you had any? Our healing witch ran out and we’ve had some injuries so-”

“Of course, here. Let me unplant it and put it in a pot for you.”

“Thank you very much, Jungkook. I owe you for this.”

“I’m glad I can help, hyung. If there’s anything else, let me know, okay?”

“I’ll be sure to. Goodbye then.”

“Goodbye, hyung.”

“Who’s at the door at this time - Hyung!”

“....ghoul...couldn’t fight….close by.”

“Can you walk? Here, lean on my shoulder. Oh, you’re bleeding out so much, how did- is that poison?”

“I’ll take care of you, hyung. Don’t worry.”

"Hyung, you wouldn't believe what the crabs had to say about Namjoonie-hyung the other day-"

"Jungkook. As you can see, there's an actual dragon in front of me right now, could we please discuss this later?"

"..."

"Kookie, I promise, now let me handle this thing, okay?"

" You can't defeat me! I am invincible and you will bow before- "

"You were saying, Jungkook?"

"...so like I said, the crabs were telling me that Namjoonie -hyung was the one that fed them the spoiled lizard feet and it wasn't Sani, I blamed her for no reason and now I feel bad for uninviting her on that trip, what do I do-"

"It's fine, we can go to her tree and get her some nice repellent for those pesky snakes, uh?"

"Okay. Were you able to get that sprite's feather or...?"

It’s safe to say...Seokjin comes back, keeps coming back; and the events that transpire after he wouldn’t think to imagine even in his wildest dreams.