Archive of Our Own ^beta

A thick fog rolls over the moor, encapsulating everything in sight. It hangs heavy in the air, blocking out the sky and blanketing the world in white.

In a series of clanks, whirs, and bangs, a massive structure navigates through the fog, heavy metal steps ringing out across the land. Covered in whistles and gears and so much more, the world renowned moving castle emerges as the murk, a magical sight for those who are around to behold it.

The kingdom of Ingary talks about the castle in whispers. Some of them are malicious, and some are filled with wonder. Everyone wants to know about the mysterious and handsome Howl, who allegedly eats the hearts of pretty young girls and has magic more powerful than any other wizard in the nation.

In the quaint little town of Market Chipping, Renjun pays no mind to the rumors that circulate the streets outside of the shop. He’s got a mouthful of pins when his last customer leaves for the day, adjusting the fabric of the garment he’s been tailoring. His hair is slipping out of the ribbon tying it at the back, and cascades around his face in inky black waterfalls.

When he was younger, he never imagined that he would be a tailor in the future, but he never really had any of his own ambitions either. His father passing, and him being the eldest son, led to him inheriting the business while his younger siblings blossomed into their own careers and lavish lifestyles. Renjun, who has always been plain-looking and simple, probably wouldn’t have suited such a role, but he does wonder about the lost potential, sometimes.

He locks up the shop after putting away his supplies, leaving a note on the door that he has closed early for the day. His boots click against the cobblestone path, and he adjusts his newsboy cap to block out the afternoon sun.

“Look, it’s Howl’s castle!” A young lady in a pastel blue dress exclaims. She holds her sun hat to her head as she points at the moor outside of town, gathering the attention of the other women surrounding her.

Renjun looks too, because he has to admit that he finds the castle impressive. It’s not just that it moves like a human or a vehicle would, but that there’s something charming and whimsical about it despite its messy appearance. The castle disappears into the fog again, just as royal planes roar past, their motors and propellers as disruptive as the soldiers who ride them.

“Oh, he’s gone!” Another lady wails. Renjun tries to step around them, but they block his path with their carts and parasols, so he moves to the side and resolves to wait until they’re done.

“No, he’s just hiding from those planes,” someone says matter-of-factly.

“Did you hear what happened to that girl, Martha in South Haven?” A girl in a pink dress and matching bonnet whispered just in front of Renjun. “They say Howl tore her heart out.”

“Now I’m too scared to be outside!” Her friend whines.

“Don’t worry, he only preys on pretty girls.” Renjun finally manages to squeeze past them, though he receives an elbow to his side and a heel to the toes of his right foot for his troubles. When he glances back, the group of women have been joined by tall, handsome men. He quickly turns away, hurrying down the street and rounding the corner until they’re out of sight.

He doesn’t envy them, not really. He’s okay with what he looks like and where he’s at in life at the moment, but sometimes he wishes he didn’t look so plain. He glares at his reflection in a shop window. Dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and brown and white clothes. He’s never been the daring type; his brothers change their hair colors and wear vivid patterns and fabrics, but Renjun has never been brave enough.

He sighs, continuing on his path. There are horse-drawn carts and streetcars everywhere, the streets filled with noisy shoppers and families. Renjun slips past them all and climbs onto the back of one of the streetcars just as it departs.

There’s a massive parade in celebration of the kingdom, drawing crowds that cheer as soldiers ride past on great white stallions. Renjun pays them no mind as he squints at the piece of paper in his hand — written directions to his older brother Dejun’s restaurant.

He turns down a side street and nearly bumps into a soldier, the royal blue uniform and golden brass buttons obscuring his vision. Renjun steps back almost immediately, but it’s too late. He’s already caught his attention.

“Looks like a little mouse lost its way,” the soldier says, just as another one comes up behind him. They’ve both got about a foot on Renjun, who never inherited his late father’s genes.

“I’m not lost,” Renjun denies, shaking his head. He hopes the soldiers don’t notice how his voice trembles.

“This little mouse looks thirsty,” the other soldier says. “I think we should take him for a cup of tea.”

“No, thank you. My brother is expecting me.” Renjun tries to get around them, but they just push closer, sending him stumbling back as he tries to get away. “Leave me alone!”

“It’s your mustache, it scares everyone away,” the first soldier jokes to his comrade, completely ignoring Renjun.

“So what? They’re all cuter when they’re scared,” the second soldier laughs, his grin turning almost predatory. A hand falls on Renjun’s shoulder before they can take another step closer, and he freezes up in the same way the soldiers do, their eyes wide as they stare at whoever’s behind him.

“There you are, sweetheart. Sorry I’m late. I was looking everywhere for you.” A low, melodic voice resonates in his ears.

Renjun gasps a little as an arm snakes around his shoulders. He can feel that the newcomer is taller than him, but he doesn’t dare look back. Not when the soldiers have shaken off their surprise and are back to slimy smiles and wicked intentions.

“Are you really? It looked to me like the two of you were just leaving.” The hand of the arm draped around Renjun points a finger and twirls, and with it, so do the soldiers. They look shocked as they take jerky steps around them, their movements almost robotic. Renjun watches them disappear down the street as the hand settles on his shoulder again. “Where to? I’ll be your escort this evening.”

Renjun glances up, and his eyes widen when he takes in the face of his savior. He’s almost at a loss for words, because the man behind him is stunning. He looks like every storybook man that his clients gush over while he hems their skirts, radiating an ethereal, princely aura with his white-blond hair, dark irises, and peony pink lips that framed sparkling white teeth.

His gaze is expectant when Renjun meets his eyes, and he realizes that this man is still waiting for a reply. “Oh, um. I’m just going to my brother’s restaurant at the edge of town.”

The man leans in, his voice lowering to a soothing murmur as Renjun’s breath hitches. “Don’t be alarmed, but I’m being followed. Act normal.”

He slips his arm around Renjun’s, his hand nestled in the crook of the strange man’s elbow as they start down the street at a brisk pace. Renjun clutches his hand to his chest as their boots clack in tandem. They hear squelching noises behind them, and the air begins to fill with a menacing presence.

“Sorry,” the man whispers, “looks like you’re involved.”

Dark figures begin to slide out from the walls of the buildings at the end of the street, surrounding them. Renjun gasps, his grip on the man’s arm tightening, but they don’t slow.

“This way.” They turn the corner, and Renjun is led down a tight alley. He can hear the liquid ghouls clamoring behind them, but the man doesn’t hesitate and begins walking faster. Even more dark, gooey creatures appear in front of them, but before Renjun’s heart can hammer with fear, they’re suddenly lifting into the air, high above the rooftops.

It’s like they’re floating, and Renjun trembles even after the man grabs both of his hands, holding tightly to them as he begins pumping his legs like he’s walking on air.

“Now, straighten your legs and start walking,” the man instructs. Renjun begins copying him, and to his surprise, it really does feel like they’re walking on air. “See? Not so hard, is it?”

They walk over the rooftops, and Renjun spots the parade and festivities below, the brightly coloured banners only specks on the ground. It’s so strange to see the tops of people’s heads while he’s looking down, but he can’t deny that the sight takes his breath away.

“You are a natural,” the man praises, and Renjun lets his lips curl up in a small smile. The man’s cape billows behind them, the purple and pink diamond pattern flowing in the wind as they cross the sky in unison.

They float down onto the balcony of Dejun’s restaurant, and the mysterious man balances on the railing, giving Renjun a beautiful smile while still holding his hand. A blue pendant hanging around his throat glistens in the sunlight, but Renjun can’t take his eyes off the man’s face.

“I’ll make sure to draw them off,” the man says, “wait a bit before you head back outside.”

“‘kay,” Renjun replies meekly, too shy and stunned to say much more. Evidently, it’s enough, because the man’s smile widens.

“That’s my boy,” the man says, so fond and gentle that Renjun doesn’t even question it. He steps backwards off the railing and falls in slow motion, but when Renjun rushes forward and leans over the edge, the man is nowhere to be seen.

When he goes inside, he’s still dazed. He sits on an ornate armchair with his head in the clouds, and when Dejun runs up to him calling his name, he almost doesn’t notice.

“Renjun!” Dejun skids to a stop in front of him. He’s dressed in a lavish grey suit, gold jewelry dangling from his ears and around his neck. “What’s going on? Someone just told me you floated down onto the balcony!”

“So that did happen,” Renjun murmurs. “It wasn’t a dream after all.”

Dejun tugs him into a storage room and has him sit down atop a stack of overturned crates. Renjun relays the whole story from the moment he stepped outside to when the mysterious man said goodbye on the balcony of Dejun’s restaurant.

“Wow,” Dejun breathes, eyes wide. “He must have been a wizard then.”

“But he was so kind to me,” Renjun gushes, swinging his legs back and forth. He couldn’t get the man’s gentle, brilliant smile out of his head. “He rescued me, Dejun.”

“Of course he did! He was trying to steal your heart!” Dejun exclaims. When Renjun looks at him, his brows are furrowed with concern. “You are so lucky, Renjun. If that wizard were Howl, he would have eaten it!”

Renjun rolls his eyes. “No, he wouldn’t. Howl only does that to beautiful girls.” He falters a little, and hopes Dejun doesn’t notice.

“Don’t give me that.” Dejun shoves lightly at his shoulder. “You need to be more careful! Even the Wicked Witch of the Waste is on the prowl, you know.”

“I’ll be more careful,” Renjun promises dutifully. He stands up from the crates and dusts off his pants. “I guess I better get going now.”

“Renjun.” Dejun stops him with a hand on his arm. “Are you… happy? Working in that tailor shop?”

Renjun smiles assuringly. “The shop was important to Father, and I’m the only tailor in the family. Really, I don’t mind.”

Dejun doesn’t seem to believe him. “If you say so. But do something for yourself once in a while, alright?”

“Whatever you say.” Renjun takes his leave after hugging his younger brother goodbye. That same feeling of envy lingers as he returns home, the sun kissing the rooftops of Market Chipping by the time he enters the shop.

He locks the doors behind him and pulls down the metal grate, securing it in place at the bottom. Renjun doesn’t even bother flicking on the lights, navigating his way to his tiny apartment above the tailor shop in the dark. He makes a simple dinner and eats alone in the quiet of his kitchen, staring at a chip in the paint on the wall.

Do something for myself? Renjun wonders, Dejun’s words echoing in his ears. Like what?

A knock at his door interrupts his thoughts. He frowns, knowing that he hadn’t heard any footsteps on the metal stairs leading to his front door. He pushes his chair back from the table just as his balcony doors swing open, giving him a fright.

“Do not open that door,” the mysterious man from earlier that day warns him.

Renjun presses his hand to his chest, his racing heartbeat thumping loudly in his ears as he tries to catch his breath. “Who are you? How do you know where I live?”

“There’s no time!” The man insists, just as the knocking grows louder. Renjun stands from his chair just as one of the gooey black creatures from earlier begins leaking through his door. He shouts, stumbling back, but before he can fall there’s a hand wrapping around his arm and hauling him through the balcony doors and up into the air.

Renjun spots a massive pink palanquin carried by two more of the creatures clad in white suits and fedoras, shuddering even as he’s propelled away.

They don’t stop until they’ve left Market Chipping, standing at the edge of the Wastes, the rolling fog intimidating in the way it swallows up the ground. The moment Renjun’s boots touch the dirt path, he wrenches away from the man.

“What’s going on?” Renjun demands, crossing his arms to ward off the chill that rips through him when the wind blows. Overhead, a battleship roars through the skies, barely visible through the clouds. “Who are those blob men? What do they want from me? What do you want from me?!”

“By helping you today, I’ve made you a target of the Wicked Witch. Those were her henchmen, back there and in that alley.” The man pulls off his cape and wraps it around Renjun’s shoulders, enveloping him in warmth.

“What could the Wicked Witch of the Waste possibly want with me?” Renjun cries in disbelief.

“It’s a long story,” the man says with a wince. “In any case, it’s not safe for you to return to town. The Witch will not rest until she finds you.”

“Then…what am I to do?” Renjun falters, growing hopeless as the man’s words dawn on him. “I’ve nowhere to go.”

“You can stay with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

“I don’t even know you,” Renjun says, voice thick. All around them, the wind rages on, and flurries of snow start falling from the heavens. His face feels like it’s going to freeze off.

“My name is Jaemin,” the man replies, his dark eyes capturing Renjun’s attention. He feels almost breathless, like Jaemin is stripping away the layers that conceal him and staring into his soul. “And I’m a wizard. That’s really all there is to know about me.”

Renjun doubts that. No one this magical could ever be so simple. Not like him. “I’m Renjun,” he says in reply. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he adds out of courtesy.

“No,” Jaemin murmurs. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Before Renjun can even begin to question what he means, he’s distracted by loud, metallic clanking and an ominous silhouette appearing within the fog. He gasps when Howl’s castle emerges from the fog, smoke rising from the chimney and the smell of burning wood overriding Renjun’s senses.

Up close, it’s even more massive than Renjun thought, and its appearance is messy. It looks like a bunch of tiny buildings crowded together on a platform, carried by four giant metal legs as it passed overhead. At the bottom was a small brown door, and a few steps leading up to it. Jaemin grabs onto the railing and steps onto the stairs in one smooth motion.

“That’s Howl’s castle,” Renjun breathes, still stunned.

Jaemin’s eyes twinkle. “It is indeed.” He stretches out his hand for Renjun to take. “Come on. Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”

Well. It’s either this or wandering the Wastes, hoping that the Wicked Witch doesn’t find him. Renjun jogs to catch up with the castle and grabs Jaemin’s hand, leaping onto the stairs. He catches himself on the railing just as Jaemin opens the door, holding it open and bowing at the waist.

Renjun slips inside, sighing as warmth surrounds him and the howling of the wind cuts off. He’s in a dusty little hallway, but it’s much better than facing the weather outside. He spins around on his heel to find Jaemin smiling at him, still standing on the steps.

“Are you not coming inside?” Renjun asks curiously.

Jaemin shakes his head. “There’s still something I need to take care of.”

“Then you should take this back.” Renjun unwinds the cape from his shoulders and shoves it into Jaemin’s hands before he can say no. He looks up and finds Jaemin staring at him with an expression that looks almost affectionate. They stare at each other for a moment before Jaemin seems to break out of his haze, pulling the cape around his shoulders.

“Go inside, Renjun. Get warm, and get some sleep,” Jaemin says gently. He jumps backwards into the air before Renjun can say anything more, and the door swings shut. He imagines that if he were to open it, Jaemin would be nowhere to be seen. Instead, he turns around and heads up the stairs in the little hall.

The interior of the room he’s in is absolutely cluttered. Illuminated by the fire in the hearth, he can see antiques, books, and furniture all crammed together. There’s cobwebs in every corner imaginable, and Renjun can see dust coating every surface. He settles into a small wooden chair near the fire, and adds a couple small logs to the flames.

“What a dump,” Renjun murmurs. “When I think ‘castle’, this is not what I picture.”

He stares into the fire, mesmerized by the bright orange flames. He almost thinks he’s seeing things when eyes and a mouth pop up on the fire, but little arms emerge from behind the logs. But considering he had just walked across the sky earlier today, he thinks he manages to take it in stride.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“The fire spoke,” he says to himself, blinking rapidly. The face doesn’t go away. “Then, are you Howl?”

“No, I’m an incredibly powerful fire demon named Haechan.” The demon says as hot red smoke escapes from his mouth.

“A fire demon,” Renjun echoes, fascinated. “Then do you work for Howl?”

“Work for him?” Haechan scoffs. “There’s a spell I can’t seem to break that keeps me stuck in this castle, and Howl treats me like I’m his slave. It burns me up! You gotta keep the water hot, the rooms warm, keep the castle moving.”

“Oh.” Renjun settles back in the chair, unsure if he’s allowed to go through the rest of the castle. He’s starting to get sleepy, the adrenaline from the day fading out and the crackling fire practically lulling him to dreamland. “That’s rough.”

“You ever tried moving a castle?” Haechan continues. His voice fades away as Renjun’s eyelids fall shut. His body sags against the back of the chair and he wraps his arms around himself, exhaling softly. “Hey. Hey!”

Renjun is already fast asleep.

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

He wakes up slowly, exhaustion dragging him down and begging him to rest a little longer. He’s about to comply when he realizes what had woken him — there’s someone knocking at the door that he came through. Renjun is about to get up when he hears footsteps tramping down the stairs. Unsure if who it is, he pretends to be asleep as the person rushes past, then peeks an eye open to watch.

It’s a teenage boy, though he quickly dresses himself in a disguise. A hood is pulled low over his eyes and a fake beard stuck to his face. Renjun almost snorts; he can’t imagine that fooling anyone. The boy is quite tall, with lanky, awkward limbs and a sweet, youthful face.

“Porthaven door,” he hears Haechan call from the hearth in a bored tone.

The boy reaches for the handle, says “Standby” in a deep voice, and pulls open the door. There’s a spinner next to the door, and the arrow twists around to point at a blue section. It seems to be connected to the lock, but Renjun has no idea how they’re connected. He’s surprised when an older man speaks; wondering what he could possibly be doing in the Wastes.

“Mr. Mayor, good day,” the boy greets, clearly faking a rasp.

“Good afternoon, sir. Would the great Wizard Na be at home?”

“I’m afraid that my master is out at the moment. I speak for him in his absence.” Renjun leans forward to get a better look as the mayor passes him an envelope.

“The time for war is upon us. His Majesty requests that every witch and wizard aid our homeland. Wizard Na must report to the palace immediately. That is all.”

Renjun peels himself off the chair, wincing when his spine cracks in several places. He’s got an awful crick in his neck, and wishes he had gone and found a room to stay in instead of falling asleep in an uncomfortable chair. Uncaring of the teenager before him, he begins adding more pieces of wood to Haechan’s fire.

“War,” he murmurs to himself. “I can’t believe it’s come to this.”

“And what are you doing here?” The boy approaches him, still wearing his disguise. It takes everything Renjun has not to giggle.

“Haechan said I could come in,” Renjun says cheerfully.

“I did not!” The fire demon protests vehemently. “He just wandered in here from the Wastes.”

“From the Wastes?” The boy echoes. He pulls off his hood and fake beard, eyeing Renjun suspiciously as he turns to Haechan. “How do we know he’s not a wizard?”

“You think I’d let another wizard in here?” Haechan scoffs, his flames burning just a little bit brighter. A bell rings just as Renjun laughs, and he adds, “Porthaven door again!”

“Must be a customer,” the boy says to himself as he pads over to the door. He puts his disguise on again. “Standby.”

The door opens to reveal a little girl. She’s in a blue dress and her hair is in pigtails, and she looks almost shy as she informs the boy that she’s here for a spell. The boy leads her inside, then disappears to search for what she’s looking for. Renjun smiles at her, but walks over to the window to peer outside.

They’re not in the Wastes anymore. Outside is an array of colorful buildings, and beyond that, the ocean, vivid blue and lapping gently at the shore. Renjun can see boats bobbing up and down, and seagulls drifting lazily in the sky.

“Are you a wizard too?” The girl asks.

“That’s right,” Renjun says, his voice lilted in a teasing manner. “I’m the scariest wizard of them all.”

The boy appears again, handing the little girl a small paper bag. “Dust your ship with this powder, and the winds will favor it.” She thanks him and passes over a few coins from her dress pockets, then scurries down the steps and heads outside, the door swinging shut behind her.

“Stop telling lies to our customers,” the boy complains.

“You’re the one wearing a disguise,” Renjun retorts.

“I have to. I’m practicing my magic.” His cheeks go red with indignance, but before he can say more, a doorbell is ringing again.

“It’s the Kingsbury door!” Haechan calls.

The boy pads down the steps once more, and Renjun can finally see properly as he leans against the railing. The boy turns the lock in the door, and the arrow on the spinner changes to point at a pink section. The other two sections are colored black and green. When the door swings open, a man dressed in a royal uniform is standing there.

“Good day,” he greets, tone cordial. “Would this be the residence of the Great Wizard Pendragon?”

“It is,” the boy replies gruffly.

“I bear an invitation from His Majesty, the King. Please inform Mr. Pendragon that all witches and wizards are required to report for duty at the palace.” Renjun leans over the railing and startles when he looks past the man out the door — the architecture is completely different from Porthaven, and the uniform that the man is wearing is red, not blue like the soldiers in Market Chipping.

“I will inform him right away.” The man bows and leaves, just as Renjun scrambles down the stairs.

“This is the royal city, isn’t it?” He says, awed. He can see the palace in the distance, flying purple and yellow flags. The door shuts in his face, but he doesn’t pay it any mind, trotting back up the steps. “I see. This is a magic house.” He looks at the spinner on the wall. “Where does the black one go?”

“Only Master Howl knows that.” The boy discards his disguise and wanders into the kitchen. He grabs a loaf of bread and some cheese, plopping down at the table. Renjun follows and lifts up a silver cover to find thick slices of bacon sitting next to a basket full of eggs.

“Don’t you want to have some bacon and eggs?” He asks. Surely cheese and bread wouldn’t be filling for a growing boy.

“Yeah, but we can’t use the fire. Master Howl’s not here.” Renjun grabs the basket of eggs and the plate of bacon, then takes a big frying pan off its hook on the wall, heading over to the fire.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “I can cook.”

“It doesn’t matter if you can cook,” the boy sounds exasperated. “Haechan only obeys orders from Master Howl.”

Haechan puffs up smugly, his flames growing larger as his eyes and mouth appear. “That’s right. I’m not taking any orders from you.”

“Perhaps you’d like a bucket of cold water to your face,” Renjun replies cheerfully. Haechan grumbles that he should have never let him in, but he acquiesces when Renjun places a pan over his flames, putting the bacon down side by side.

“Haechan’s doing what he says,” the boy says from behind him, voice filled with wonder. Renjun asks him for a kettle to make tea, and he immediately complies, standing from his chair and running over to a pile of appliances.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Haechan shouts. “Don’t get the kettle! Whose side are you on anyway? Jisung!”

A ding grabs Renjun’s attention, and the arrow on the spinner switches to black just as the door swings open to reveal Jaemin, his hair in his eyes as he emerges from pitch darkness. He climbs up the steps without lifting his face.

“Master Howl!” The boy — Jisung, Haechan had called him — immediately turns to greet him. “The King’s messengers were here. They said you have to report to the castle, as both Pendragon and Na.”

Jaemin is Howl?

And what a revelation that is. Renjun looks away when he approaches, focusing on making breakfast. He can’t get Jaemin’s expression off his mind. For a moment, the wizard had appeared almost haunted. But as he steps up to Renjun’s side, he’s wearing a half-smile as he looks down at the fire demon heating the bacon.

“Haechan, you’re being so obedient!” He’s teasing, but Renjun can’t help but wonder if he’s covering up his true feelings.

“Not on purpose. He bullied me!” Haechan complains, glaring accusingly at Renjun.

“Hmm.” Jaemin’s gaze slides over to him. His smile widens. “Not just anyone can do that.”

He shoulders Renjun out of the way, though his touch is gentle, and reaches for the pan handle. His hand rests atop Renjun’s for a brief moment before he takes the pan away, and Renjun spots a thick silver ring on his index finger, garnished with a round red stone.

Jaemin takes over breakfast with ease, cracking eggs into the pan with one hand. The bacon pops and sizzles, filling the room with a delicious aroma.

“Jisung, get the plates,” Jaemin calls over his shoulder before heading over to the table with the pan.

Haechan rages in the hearth. “Wait a second, you’re all gonna eat while I do the work?”

“Come have some breakfast,” Jisung says as Jaemin begins portioning out the food into three separate plates. Renjun sits on a rickety chair at the table, and Jaemin pours him tea in a chipped mug, setting it down next to his plate of eggs and bacon.

“Bread, Jisung?” Jaemin asks, slicing off a piece with a knife to pass to his apprentice. “And you, Renjun?”

“Oh. Yes, please, thank you.” He lifts his plate to accept the slice of bread from Jaemin, placing it back on the table. Such a simple breakfast has never looked so good. His last meal had been in a quiet, empty apartment, all by himself, and now he’s eating breakfast with a boy and a wizard. How strange.

“So friends, enjoy. Bon appetit,” Jaemin says, and Jisung eagerly digs in. Renjun watches him fondly; he reminds him of Dejun. He’s disheartened for a moment, and wonders how his little brother will react to the news of him being gone. But dwelling on it won’t change the circumstances, so after a moment, Renjun picks up his fork and begins to eat.

“I can’t remember the last time we had a real breakfast,” Jisung says as he chows down. He’s got yolk at the corners of his lips and Renjun rolls his eyes at how messy he is. Like boy, like house, he supposes. Without thinking, he pulls out his handkerchief from his pocket to wipe Jisung’s face, and a piece of paper comes out with it.

Jaemin reaches over and grabs for it, but it bursts into black flames. Renjun quickly lets go, and it falls to the table, dissolving and leaving behind a pattern in the wood.

“Scorch marks!” Jisung gasps. “Howl, can you read them?”

A grin that looks almost feral spreads across Jaemin’s face, his piercing eyes locked on the table. “This is ancient sorcery. And quite powerful, too.”

Jisung looks up at him, eyes wide. “It’s from the Witch of the Waste?”

Renjun freezes. How could she have gotten it into his pocket? Was it when she was outside his apartment, or recently? Does she already know where he is?

“You who swallowed a falling star, oh heartless man. Your heart shall soon belong to me.” Jaemin leans over as he reads. “That can’t be good for the table.” His hand hovers over the scorch marks, and they begin to burn away as Renjun and Jisung watch in awe. Jaemin’s smile grows even wider, smug in nature as smoke flies up from the wood. He lifts his hand with a flourish, and the table is clear.

“Wow! It’s gone!” Jisung exclaims, sounding more like a child than a teen.

“The marks may be gone, but the spell is still there.” Jaemin stands from the table, his plate in his hand. “Excuse me, my friends, please continue your meal.” He tosses his leftovers into the fire.

Fear grips Renjun, and he stares down at his breakfast wondering if he’ll be able to stomach the rest. Will he ever truly be able to escape the Witch of the Waste? Or is he doomed for a life on the run forever? And what did that note mean?

You who swallowed a falling star.

“Jaemin,” he says, stopping the wizard in his tracks. “I’m—why is she after you? The Witch?”

He watches as Jaemin visibly falters, a mix of emotions flashing across his face. Renjun swallows hard, unsure if he should have asked, and goes back to eating.

“I’ll tell you later, Renjun, I promise,” he finally says, then turns to Haechan. “Haechan, move the castle sixty miles to the west. And while you’re at it, make hot water for my bath.”

“Fine,” Haechan grumbles. “Like moving the castle isn’t hard enough.”

Jisung leans over the table to look at Renjun, eyes wide. “You’re not working for the Witch of the Waste, are you?”

“I would never work for that witch,” Renjun protests vehemently, slamming his fist on the table. Jisung looks taken aback. “She’s the reason I was forced to leave town in the first place!”

Renjun gets up in a fury, storming off with his empty plate in his hands. He manages to find the sink, buried under a mountain of dishes, and decides that he might as well get some cleaning done. The thought of living in such a messy space makes him feel like he is going to break out into hives.

He works in a frenzy, sweeping and mopping and dusting while Jisung watches in awe. The cleaning is almost relaxing — it’s hard to feel desolate about his situation when he’s worried about the layers of grime caking all the unused furniture. Whether he’s in his tiny apartment above the tailor shop, or in a castle that’s somehow both in the middle of nowhere and everywhere all at once, cleaning is the exact same process, and it’s comforting.

“Renjun,” Haechan calls from the hearth. His wood has burned away, and all that’s left is a tiny sliver of log. “Renjun, help, I’m going out. Please, I’m going out. Wait, what are you doing?”

Renjun approaches him with massive tongs, lifting the log he’s on and placing him in a metal container. He takes a broom and begins sweeping out the massive piles of ash from the hearth onto a garbage bag.

“I’m gonna fall!” Haechan cries, his flame getting small.

“I’m just sweeping out the ashes,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes. He sneezes, scooping up the bag and tying it in a knot, carrying it over to the door. He sets it outside for Jisung to deal with, who had escaped into Porthaven when Renjun started tackling the bugs.

When he turns around, Jaemin has Haechan in his hand, a soft blue flame that glows bigger and brighter when he blows on him. He places the fire demon on a fresh pile of wood, and turns to Renjun with a mild smile.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t torment my friend,” Jaemin says, tilting his head. His emerald earrings glimmer, mesmerizing in the firelight. He’s wearing a long white coat instead of his cape, and his hair is styled off his forehead. Renjun is at a loss for words, and can only watch as Jaemin strides past him.

“Master Howl, are you going out?” Jisung is standing in front of the door, staring at Jaemin quizzically.

“Jisung, make sure Renjun doesn’t get too carried away,” Jaemin says in reply, with a pointed glance in his direction. Renjun bristles, but Jaemin just turns the dial on the door. The arrow on the spinner turns to the black section, and when Jaemin pulls the door open, the sky is red and the world is filled with dark shadows. He doesn’t glance back as he jumps outside, the door shutting behind him.

“Renjun, what did you do?” Jisung asks, eyes wide.

He shrugs. “Just cleaned out the fireplace.”

“He almost smothered me!” Haechan shouts. “If I die, Jaemin dies too, y’know.”

Renjun rolls his eyes. “You’re fine. Quit bothering me, I still have to clean the upstairs.”

Jisung scampers past him, blocking his way. “Wait! You can’t come up here!”

“Whatever you don’t want me to clean, you better hide it now,” Renjun teases. Jisung’s eyes widen comically, and he darts up the stairs after making Renjun promise he’ll save his room for last. He nearly trips as he reaches the top, then disappears around the corner.

Renjun finds the bathroom and gasps at the mess. It’s covered in splashes of colour, like someone had thrown around cans of paint everywhere. There’s cobwebs clinging to the ceiling, and water in puddles on the floor next to the bathtub.

He rolls up his sleeves and is about to get to work when he spots the view from out the window. Discarding his cleaning supplies, Renjun runs over and sticks his head out of the opening.

The castle is moving along a mountain. The grass is growing thick and lush, and Renjun can spot a massive river flowing at the bottom of the gorge next to them. With the clouds moving past and the sky a bright blue, it’s one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen.

“Haechan!” He yells excitedly, sprinting out of the bathroom to lean over the railing of the staircase. “Haechannie! Is it you who’s moving the castle?”

“Of course I am. It’s not like anyone else does any work around here,” comes Haechan’s sarcastic retort, but Renjun is too ecstatic to care.

“I’m thoroughly impressed,” he praises, absolutely elated. “You are a first class fire demon. I like your spark!”

“He likes my spark!” Haechan echoes ecstatically, and the whole castle shudders and jumps with his delight.

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

Fire eats across the land, filling the air with smoke so thick, Jaemin can hardly see before him.

His entire body aches after encounters with other wizards and witches working for the King. The feathers of his bird form are singed, and his face is covered in soot. The ability to transform himself is one he learned at the Royal Sorcery Academy, but he has never used it the way these wizards are.

He returns to the castle hours later, dragging himself through the door with his wings tucked against his body. He collapses into a chair next to the fire and forces himself to transform back, his skin stretching and his bones snapping into place.

“Are you okay? You smell terrible,” Haechan says. Jaemin just groans, long and heavy. He’s tired. He’s been tired since the start of the war. “You shouldn’t keep flying around like that. Soon you won’t be able to turn back into a human.” The fire demon reaches for a small log in a pile at the edge of the hearth. Upon catching Jaemin’s questioning look, he says, “isn’t this great? Renjun put these here for me.”

Jaemin tries for a smile, but exhaustion drags down the corners of his mouth. “This war is terrible. They’ve bombed from the southern coast to the northern border. It’s all in flames now.”

“I can’t stand the fire and gunpowder,” Haechan says with a judgmental scoff. “Those dopey guys have absolutely no manners.”

“My own kind attacked me today,” Jaemin says dully, staring into the flames without really seeing them.

“Who, the Witch of the Waste?”

“No.” He bites back a sigh. “Some hack wizards who turned themselves into monsters for the king.”

“Those wizards are going to regret doing that,” Haechan says disapprovingly. “They’ll never change back into humans.”

“After the war, they won’t recall they were ever human,” Jaemin returns gravely.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to report to the king, too?” Haechan points out.

Jaemin fixes him with a level gaze, then heaves himself out of the chair with great effort. “I’m tired. Make some hot water for my bath.”

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

Sometimes, Jaemin dreams of alternate realities. Of other Howls who oppose royal warfare. He wonders how they keep going; how they don’t lose sense of who they are.

But his lifetime is going differently than his dreams. In another Howl’s universe, his kingdom goes to war over a lack of resources. And yet another Howl experiences war due to pressure from other kingdoms. Yet in Jaemin’s reality, there is no clear reason for the war. To him, people are dying needlessly, and the King wants him to join.

Jaemin wishes he had these premonitions before — he would have never become Madame Suliman’s apprentice. He would have never become this world’s Howl.

There are a few things Jaemin doesn’t know. The first being how to break his contract with Haechan; the power he receives in exchange is greater than he could ever imagine, but it comes at the cost of his life. In his dreams, he has never found the answer.

The second is if the other Howls are like him — dreaming of his life, seeing parallel universes as he sleeps at night. Or if he is the only one born of a different name, only to take up the title of Howl Pendragon when he joined the Royal Sorcery Academy. He wonders if the different versions of him have ever wanted to be anything other than Howl.

The third thing he doesn’t know is the role that Renjun plays in all of this. What it means to have him here, after years of wondering if he had just dreamed him up. Because that’s what Renjun feels like — a dream. With his gentle voice and equally gentle hands, Renjun is everything Jaemin wants and more. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to have him — he’s never seen another Renjun in his visions.

He still remembers the first time he saw him. Standing in a meadow after he had just swallowed a falling star, he had turned around when he heard someone calling his name. And there Renjun was, more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen. But it wasn’t Renjun’s beauty that drew Jaemin to him, it was his words.

“Come find me in the future,” Renjun had said, “I know how to help you.”

Of all his uncertainties, there are two things he does know.

The first is that the Howls who have not succeeded in breaking the contract with their fire demons succumb to insanity; losing sight of their humanity as they are unable to change back from the beasts they transform into.

The second is simple, he muses as he slides open the door to Renjun’s bedroom, poking his head inside to see Renjun asleep in bed, the covers pulled up to his chin. It’s a relief to see him safe and sound after accidentally getting him involved with the Witch of the Waste, who has been known to cast spells on those he’s shown interest in before. Now that I have him here, I am never letting him go.

He’s never found it easy to be brave, but for Renjun, he thinks he might as well try.

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

Renjun wanders into the kitchen in the early morning. The warm sunlight streaming through his window had woken him up, and he figures he can get an early start on his day. If he’s going to be staying in the castle for a prolonged period of time, he might as well finish up the cleaning and get started on the groceries.

“Good morning, Haechan,” he greets the fire demon in the hearth, making sure to restock his logs. “Has Jaemin come back?”

“Yes, he’s wasting all my hot water again,” Haechan grumbles.

“Come along, Jisung,” Renjun says to the sleepy apprentice. “We need to get the shopping done for today.”

Jisung groans, but follows him out the Porthaven door and to the market. He complains the whole way, but Renjun has long learned to tune him out when he’s being bratty. He’s still young, so he can get away with it for now.

“I don’t know why we’re doing this. Master Howl hardly eats,” Jisung says.

“Don’t you just love morning markets?” Renjun says, completely ignoring him. He greets the seller behind the stall as he looks over the selection of vegetables. “And the ocean looks so pretty! I’ve never seen the ocean before.” He’s lived his entire life in Market Chipping, unable to leave when he had the shop to run. A pang of guilt resounds in his stomach, knowing he has abandoned his father’s business to keep himself safe.

“It always looks like that.” Jisung sounds confused.

Renjun rolls his eyes and picks out some potatoes, placing them in the handy basket that he found in the kitchen.

“I hate potatoes,” Jisung grumbles.

“Pay up,” Renjun instructs, giggling when Jisung sighs and hands the seller a handful of coins. “Thanks, have a nice day!”

They stop at another stall selling an assortment of sea creatures. “All our fish was caught fresh this morning!” The man behind the counter says when he catches Renjun looking.

“I hate fish,” Jisung mumbles.

A huge commotion draws their attention; a crowd has started to gather at the edge of the pier, and they’re shouting incoherently. Finally one voice raises above the rest.

“It’s one of our ships! One of our ships is in the harbour!”

“It’s on fire!” Someone else cries.

“Looks like there’s been a serious battle.”

“What happened?” The vendor demands, then turns to Renjun. “Sorry, we’re closed!”

“The ship! It’s sinking!”

The noise overwhelms Renjun as they’re pressed on all sides by the surging crowd. He yanks his basket closer and clutches Jisung’s arm so he doesn’t get lost.

“Come on, Renjun, let’s get a better look!” Jisung tugs at his sleeve.

Renjun glances at the smoking ship, a glimpse of orange flames enough to make him squeeze his eyes shut, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I’ve seen all I can take. Let’s go home.”

They start pushing past people with Jisung leading the way. Renjun looks up from the cobblestones and gasps when he sees a blob man in a suit and hat, standing on the pier in between two families.

“The witch’s henchmen are here!” He hisses, his grip tightening on Jisung’s arm.

Jisung looks bewildered, glancing around with wide eyes. “What?!”

“Quiet down. They’re only a few feet away.” Renjun practically holds his breath until the blob men slip into an alley and disappear. “I wonder why no one else seemed to notice them.”

He startles when roaring fills the sky, the whirring of an airship overhead drawing everyone’s attention. A flurry of flyers rains down from above, and Renjun begins hurrying through the crowd in a panic, his heart racing as he drags Jisung along.

“Ignore the flyers! They’re enemy propaganda!” Is the last thing he hears before he pulls Jisung in through the door of Jaemin’s Porthaven home, leaning against the railing of the stairs inside the castle as he tries to catch his breath.

“Are you okay?” Jisung peers up at him from the bottom step, his eyes wide.

“I’m fine.” Renjun coughs, then stumbles up the stairs to collapse in a rickety chair by the table, setting the basket down at his feet. “I just need a glass of water.”

“I’ll get it.” Jisung hurries past him to fill a glass from the tap, bringing it over and pressing it into Renjun’s hand.

“Thank you.” Renjun gives him a grateful smile as he tips the glass at his lips, the cool water sliding down his parched throat. He finishes the whole thing and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

An anguished scream coming from up the stairs has Renjun leaping to his feet in alarm, his previous exhaustion forgotten. Loud footsteps thud down the stairs and Jaemin rounds the corner, completely naked save for some soap suds clinging to his body and a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. He looks distressed. Renjun is distressed, and he covers his eyes with a yelp.

“Renjun, you’ve sabotaged me!” Jaemin wails, pointing to his hair which Renjun has just noticed is a clementine orange. It looks pretty, in Renjun’s humble opinion, but Jaemin doesn’t seem to think so. In fact, he seems as if he’s about to throw himself off the roof of the castle and hope he gets trampled by Haechan. “Look at my hair!”

“It’s a pretty color,” Renjun says.

“It’s hideous,” Jaemin cries, sinking into Renjun’s favorite chair. “I’m ruined! How can I live if I’m not the most gorgeous man alive?”

Renjun figures it’s a rhetorical question and doesn’t answer. Jaemin’s meltdown continues without his input, and his hair changes colors rapidly, cycling through pink, red, and mint green, before settling on black.

“It’s a normal color now,” Renjun tries.

Jaemin doesn’t even seem to hear him. Renjun is almost surprised to discover he’s so vain — would a great wizard not put his self worth in his skill rather than his appearance? — but he quickly loses his patience.

“What do you even have to be upset about?” He fumes at Jaemin’s despairing form. “You’re unhappy about your looks? I lost my home! I left my whole life behind!”

He doesn’t bother sticking around for an answer, shaking with rage as he stomps outside. This family drives me fucking crazy, he thinks, leaning against the railing of the steps and blinking back tears. He doesn’t mean to cry, but he gets so worked up that it’s hard to control his physical reactions.

Then it occurs to him that he had referred to the occupants of this ugly-beautiful castle as his family. Jaemin, Jisung, and Haechan — somehow his interactions with them feel more warm and familial than anything he’s ever had with his biological family. Sure, they got along well enough, but Renjun never felt understood by them.

Family. The word feels foreign to him, but suddenly, all of his anger disappears. In Market Chipping, everyone thought him a little strange, but in this castle, everything is strange. He doesn’t stand out at all in comparison, and that makes him feel more comfortable than he’s ever been in his life.

He doesn’t really miss home, he thinks. He’s just annoyed that he didn’t leave on his own terms.

And he can’t even blame Jaemin — not really. He didn’t know that saving him would make him a target of the Wicked Witch of the Waste.

Well, Renjun thinks with a sniffle. The cold mountain air sends shivers down his spine, and he thinks he needs to get back inside. He’s already missing the warmth of Haechan’s fire. Vanity isn’t the worst flaw I’ve ever dealt with.

Resolute, he heads back inside only to be met with a sight both disgusting and fascinating in equal parts. Jaemin seems to be melting, thick, green and slimy liquid covering his body, inching closer to Haechan who was freaking out, trying not to let the liquid touch his flames.

“Howl. Howl! You gotta stop.” Haechan glances at Renjun with comically wide, almost cartoonish eyes. “Renjun, you gotta help me out here.”

Renjun sighs. “Jisung, go draw water for a bath. Haechan, you’ll heat it up, won’t you?”

“Yeah, whatever, just save me, please,” Haechan begs over the sound of Jisung stomping up the steps. Renjun reaches into the green goop and grabs Jaemin by the arms, hauling him out of the chair.

Dragging him up the stairs when he refuses to cooperate isn’t an easy task, especially when he’s so slippery, leaving a trail of slime across the majority of the castle. But soon enough, Renjun gets Jaemin in the bath tub, shutting the door behind him and wiping his hands on his apron. Jisung took one look at his expression and headed into the bathroom to help get Jaemin clean.

He looks back at the slime with dismay, hands on his hips and his lips pursed. “Well, now I have to mop the floors again.”

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

Renjun knocks on Jaemin’s bedroom door, warm mug in one hand. He heard Jisung screaming earlier, and figured that the bath might have been a traumatizing experience. Jaemin’s apprentice had come downstairs with a grin, reporting that “Master Howl is all tuckered out”.

“Jaem, I’m coming in.” There is no response, but Renjun isn’t waiting for one. He pushes open the door, stepping into a room that looks more like a portal than a bedroom. The place is packed with magical items and trinkets, wall to wall full of vibrant colors and random odds and ends.

Renjun tries not to stop and stare, but there is just so much. Bookshelves and plants, clocks with eyes, swords and gems — a whole treasure trove crammed into every crook and nanny. He wonders where Jaemin got them all; there must be at least a hundred stories behind the objects in this one room, and he wants to hear every one.

Jaemin is under the covers, head nestled in the curve of a fluffy pillow. Renjun’s gaze catches on the ornate headboard, the golden silk sheets, and finally the necklace with the blue crystal sitting above Jaemin’s collarbones. His eyes are shut, thick lashes fanning out over the tops of his cheekbones, but Renjun can tell he’s awake.

“I’ve brought you some hot milk with honey,” Renjun says. “Do you want a sip?” No response. “I’ll just leave it here, then. Try to drink it before it gets cold.”

He turns to leave. “Renjun, wait.”

Jaemin looks small and tired under his massive blanket. His eyes are dark as he looks at Renjun, but the corners of his mouth are lifted in a strained but genuine smile. Renjun walks back over to the bed and resists the urge to push Jaemin’s hair out of his eyes, still an inky black shade. He thinks it looks nicer than the blond.

“Do you want some milk?” He reaches for the mug, but a gentle hand to his wrist stops him.

“The Witch of the Waste is trying to find my castle.” Jaemin sounds so dull and lifeless, and it makes Renjun ache a little despite himself. Then, his eyes widen as he processes what he said.

“I saw her henchmen at the harbor,” he says. Were they looking for Jaemin, or for me? Or is it the both of us they’re searching for, so the Witch can sink her claws into us? His thoughts are racing, a shiver of both fear and fury running down his spine. He hates her. He hates her, but he’s also afraid of her, because he knows what she’s capable of.

“I’m such a big coward. All I do is hide.” Jaemin’s eyes fall shut, and he turns his head until he’s no longer facing Renjun. “And all of this magic is just to keep everybody away.” His voice drops, breaks. “I can’t stand how scared I am.”

Renjun bites his lip. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jaemin act so vulnerable. After a moment of hesitation, he sits at the edge of Jaemin’s bed. He reaches out to place his hand on Jaemin’s arm, then thinks better of it, dropping it into his lap.

“Jaem, why is the Wicked Witch after you?”

Jaemin didn’t look at him. “She was once quite beautiful, so I decided to pursue her. Then I realized she wasn’t. So as usual, I ran away.”

Vain and shallow, Renjun amends in his head, but he can’t stop himself from smiling a little. What a stupid man. Flamboyant, and cowardly, and so, so kind.

“I can’t run for much longer, though,” Jaemin says dully. “I have to report to the castle as Pendragon and Na.”

“How many aliases do you have, anyway?”

“As many as I need to keep my freedom.”

Renjun tilts his head, pondering. “Can’t you just refuse the King’s invitation?

“See that?” Jaemin points to a piece of stationary on the wall. It’s pinned there with a pair of scissors and a jewel encrusted dagger, but Renjun can make out the royal crest stamped at the bottom. He thinks that, once, this paper held a lot of value, but Jaemin clearly resents it now. “That’s the oath I took when I entered the Royal Sorcery Academy. I must report to the palace whenever summoned.”

“I think you should see the King.” Renjun pulls his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He doesn’t miss Jaemin watching him. “Tell him off. Say that this war is pointless and you refuse to take part.”

Jaemin smiles wryly. “You obviously don’t know what these people are like.”

Renjun doesn’t. He had never left Market Chipping before Jaemin had shown up at his apartment looking like a dream. “He’s our King,” he says uselessly, picking at the hem of his pants. “Shouldn’t he want to hear what all his citizens have to say?”

Jaemin’s silence is answer enough. Renjun takes that into consideration, and frowns at the floor. It’s a little disappointing to think that the Royal family doesn’t really care about the wellbeing of the citizens of Ingary, but he can’t say he’s surprised when the King’s soldiers harass people on the street without facing consequences. It just makes him all the more grateful that Jaemin had saved him that day.

“I got it!” Renjun turns his head just as Jaemin sits up, and it’s like the next moment happens in slow motion. His eyes are so bright, twinkling with stars as his pretty pink lips spread into a grin. His hair sweeps off his forehead with his momentum, and his earrings glimmer tantalizingly from where they dangle just near his jawline. Renjun is rendered breathless, mouth parting in slight awe, and he almost misses what Jaemin says next. “Why don’t you just go to the palace for me?”

“Huh?” Renjun’s jaw drops completely. Go to the palace for Jaemin? What about the Wicked Witch?

“Yeah!” Jaemin nods vehemently, grinning like he’s found the solution to all his problems. “Just say that you’re Pendragon’s husband, and that I’m so cowardly, I can’t even show my face!”

Husband? Renjun is so stunned, he ends up nodding in agreement.

“Maybe this way Madame Suliman will finally give up on me,” Jaemin says.

Renjun blinks. “Who’s Madame Suliman?”

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

“You’re gonna wear that hat?”

Renjun doesn’t even have to look at Jaemin to know that he’s pouting. He pulls his sun hat lower on his head so the brim covers his face. He won’t admit it to Jaemin, but he’s terrified of the Witch discovering him, and he’s hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible. He refuses to back out — if Jaemin can’t be brave, then Renjun will have to be brave for him.

"I put so much magic into making your outfit pretty!” Jaemin protests. He’s wrapped up in a soft throw blanket, his feet bare on the hardwood floor. He had indeed turned Renjun’s plain clothes into a simple but elegant shirt with silver embroidery and a high collar paired with black trousers that had buttons all the way down the sides. Renjun has never dressed in anything so fancy. He can admit the hat is clashing, but he needs to lay low, so he ignores Jaemin’s complaints.

“Look after him, Sungie,” Renjun says, patting Jisung’s shoulder.

“Good luck!” Jisung replies cheerfully, beaming at him.

He descends down the steps and is about to reach for the door when he feels Jaemin behind him. A hand grabs his, and Jaemin slides a silver band identical to his own on the ring finger of Renjun’s left hand.

“This charm will guarantee your safe return,” Jaemin murmurs low in his ear, making Renjun flush as the hair rises on the back of his neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll follow behind you in disguise.” Ever the gentleman, Jaemin pulls the door open and guides him outside with a gentle hand to his lower back. “Now, off you go.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, hoping Jaemin doesn’t notice how red his ears are, and starts down the road, passing by beautiful brick buildings and steam engine cars. Kingsbury is nothing like Market Chipping, but Renjun finds he likes it. Why do I feel like this isn’t going to work, he thinks with a sigh.

“I wonder what Jaemin disguised himself as,” Renjun mutters to himself as he walks past a statue of the late King, birds covering both arms. “Surely not a crow. And definitely not a pigeon, he’s too flamboyant for that.” He almost giggles at his own joke, but then he remembers he’s trying not to attract attention. A loud buzzing captures his attention as a flying kayak soars above him. A woman in a massive yellow dress and pink bonnet is laughing so loud Renjun can hear it over the motor of the vehicle. “That could be him.”

He makes it to the inner city, and sighs when he realizes how much further he has to go. Perhaps he shouldn’t have deep cleaned the kitchen cupboards early this morning, but he needed somewhere to store all their cookware.

Passing by the man on the flying kayak, his female passenger departing as he advertises for others to pay for a ride, Renjun nearly trips over a fluffy white dog. It’s rather large, though Renjun guesses it’s still young, its paws too big for its body. He thinks he remembers Dejun fawning over this breed once, but he can’t remember the name.

To his surprise, the dog follows at his heels. He walks on, and the dog sticks by his side the whole time, tail wagging eagerly.

“Jaem, you disguised yourself as a dog?” Renjun murmurs. The dog huffs, like he’s letting out a laugh. “Couldn’t you think of something a bit more useful?” Jaemin just yips, bounding forward on clumsy paws before turning around and running back to Renjun’s side. At least he’s cute, Renjun thinks with a sigh.

He’s approaching the palace when two inky black creatures in suits bearing a familiar palanquin. Renjun tries to stifle his gasp, but the creatures slow down and the curtain opens to reveal a woman that can only be none other than the Wicked Witch of the Waste. She doesn’t look anything like Renjun had pictured. In fact, she looks almost model-like, with delicate features half hidden by an ornate fan.

“It’s the little mouse from the tailor shop!” She exclaims.

Renjun does his best to ignore her, though he does side-eye Jaemin at his feet. Do something, he wills, but Jaemin just walks on, his little claws clicking against the paved cobblestone.

“Thank you for passing on my little scorching love note to Howl. How is he, anyway?” She asks, fanning herself.

“He’s acting like a big baby,” Renjun says pointedly. The dog doesn’t react. “And he’s working me to the bone as his house servant.”

“How delightful,” the Witch says in a way that means she doesn’t consider it delightful at all. “So, what business do you have at the palace?”

“Job hunting,” Renjun huffs. “I’m sick of working for Howl.” Jaemin barks at his side, bumping his nose into Renjun’s calf. “What about yourself?”

“I received a royal invitation.” She sounds like she’s bragging — Renjun wonders if she knows that he couldn’t care less. “That idiot Suliman finally realized how much she needs my powers.”

They reach the palace steps, and Renjun gapes up at the top. There’s a truly unnecessary amount of concrete stairs, and he dreads climbing up them in this heat. He’s made for delicate work, not exercise.

“What is wrong with you two?”

Renjun turns around to see the Witch’s palanquin bearers folding in on themselves, the palanquin dropping to the ground as the creatures disappear in their suits, leaving behind nothing but crumpled clothing.

“Sorry, ma’am,” one of the guards standing rigidly at the foot of the steps says, “but vehicles are strictly prohibited. You must continue on foot.”

"That damn Suliman,” the Witch curses, stepping out from the curtain. Renjun is distracted when Jaemin leaps into his arms, staggering with his weight. “Using her magic to force me to climb all those god-forsaken stairs.”

Renjun ignores her, starting upwards with Jaemin heavy in his arms. “Why do you weigh so much?” He hisses, but the dog just blinks back at him innocently. The weight of Jaemin in his arms makes his ascent slow, and his stifling fur is too warm.

“Wait.” He hears huffing and puffing behind him, and startles when he turns around to see the Witch’s appearance visibly changing. She grows larger, and her face ages and sweat drips from all over her body. Her clothes become too tight for her, soaked in sweat along the collar. She looks as if she’s going to be ill. Was it all a glamour? “I can’t make it.”

“Why don’t you give up?” Renjun asks, and Jaemin yips in agreement. “You’re killing yourself.”

The Witch almost appears to be melting. “I waited… fifty long years… to be invited here.” She stops and leans heavily against the railing, huffing and puffing. “Ever since that… damn Suliman… banished me to the Wastes.”

Renjun shrugs. “Well, good luck, then. It’s a shame my hands are full, or I’d offer to help you.” He turns around with Jaemin in his arms and starts up the stairs again. When he makes it to the top, he has to pause and catch his breath, bending down to put Jaemin on the floor.

He can see the Witch staggering, and he almost feels sorry for her. She looks on the verge of passing out, her breath coming in ugly gasps.

“Honored guest, please follow me,” an attendant at the top of the stairs says to him.

“You should go help her up these stairs,” Renjun says. Jaemin barks in agreement, wagging his tail and panting as if he’d been the one to climb up all those steps.

“I am strictly forbidden to offer such assistance,” the attendant replies, stone faced.

Renjun frowns. “Why? That’s so rude! The King himself invited her!”

The attendant makes no move to reply, just staring straight ahead. Renjun glances back sympathetically, but then remembers she’s the reason why he’s even here, and turns away. He hears the Witch moan and groan her way up the steps behind him, sweat audibly pouring from every fold of her body.

They walk in together, passing by a row of attendants dressed in red uniforms. Renjun admires the lush red carpet and ornate gold tiles, then realizes he’s lost sight of Jaemin, the fluffy puppy nowhere in sight.

“Mr. Pendragon and the Witch of the Waste!” The attendant from outside announces their presence.

“Your name’s Pendragon?” The Witch asks through laboured breaths. “Why does that sound so familiar?”

“Er, that was the name of my tailor shop, don’t you remember?” Renjun lies, scanning the foyer in hopes to find Jaemin.

“Is that what it was?”

Renjun doesn’t answer, and the attendant leads them through the halls and into a small room with a single chair facing a velvet curtain. The Witch gasps and rushes for it, but Renjun is distracted when he spots Jaemin in the corner, dashing through a small doorway on four paws.

“Jaemin,” he hisses, but the dog doesn’t return. He takes one last glance at the Wicked Witch before hurrying after him. The hall that he’s in is dimly lit, but he’s surprised when another curtain opens and a young boy bows at him.

“This way, please, sir,” the boy says. Renjun can’t come up with an excuse, so he follows obediently, hoping that Jaemin hasn’t gotten himself into any trouble. They walk down another hall of glowing lanterns, and enter a large room filled with emerald plants and brightly coloured flowers that Renjun’s never seen before.

He’s led past a small silver fountain and shrubbery that reaches up to the ceiling to an open space in front of floor to ceiling windows. There’s a woman seated in a high-backed wheelchair, a staff in one hand. The attendant walks over to whisper in her ear while Renjun stands awkwardly at a distance.

“So, you are Howl’s husband, are you?” The woman asks.

“Yes,” Renjun says slowly. “I’m Renjun Pendragon.”

“You must be tired. Please have a seat. Thank you for coming all this way.” She doesn’t sound particularly grateful, but Renjun walks over to the sole chair in front of her and sits down. “I am Madame Suliman, his Majesty’s head sorcerer.”

Renjun tries to pay attention, but his eyes widen when he spots the dog curled up beside her seat, below a table containing nothing more than a pot of ink and a stack of parchment. He’s beginning to think that dog isn’t Jaemin after all.

“Um. Is that your dog?” He asks nervously, horror slowly dawning on him.

“Yes,” Madame Suliman says. “His name is Jeno, he’s my errand dog. I had him escort you here.”

Shit. Renjun can feel his cheeks heating up and hopes the sorcerer doesn’t notice. How humiliating. The dog blinks at him like he can sense his embarrassment.

“I take it Howl won’t be joining us?” Madame Suliman’s smirk looks almost amused, but there’s something sinister lying beneath it.

Renjun nods. “He’s such a lazy husband. He even sent me in his place. I think that the King would just find him completely useless.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” Madame Suliman rests her cheek in her hand, an ornate ruby ring glistening on her finger. Renjun shifts anxiously in his seat. “Howl was the first apprentice I ever took on. I’d never seen such a gifted student. I was so thrilled that I had finally found someone talented enough to replace me.”

Renjun’s eyes widen. Replace her? As the King’s head sorcerer? Now he understands why Jaemin hides. He can’t imagine him living his life trapped in this stifling palace, forced to attend the King’s every beck and call, unable to take off whenever he wants.

“Then, one day, his heart was stolen by a demon. He never returned to complete his apprenticeship.” Madame Suliman’s voice is hard, her eyes steely as she stares Renjun down. “And from that day forward, he has been using his magic for entirely selfish reasons.” She leans forward in her chair. “Mr. Pendragon, that boy is extremely dangerous. His powers are far too great for someone without a heart. If he stays selfish, I’m afraid he’ll end up just like the Witch of the Waste.”

What does she mean by that? Renjun wonders.

“Send her in!” Madame Suliman calls, and Renjun turns to see the attendant from before wheeling in a frail looking elderly woman. It takes him a moment to realize that this is the Wicked Witch of the Waste, only she looks nothing like the woman he had watched struggle up those steps. She’s covered in wrinkles, and her body sags like a half empty sack of flour.

“What on earth did you do to her?” Renjun exclaims, horrified.

“I just restored her to the age she actually is,” Madame Suliman replies lightly. “All her powers are gone now. She, too, was once a magnificent sorcerer with so much promise. But then she fell prey to a demon of greed who slowly consumed her body and soul.

Our kingdom can no longer afford to turn a blind eye to these disreputable witches and wizards. If Howl reports to me and vows to use his magic to serve the kingdom, I will show him how to break free from the demon. If not, I’ll strip him of his powers,” her eyes narrow, “just like her.”

“That is enough!” Renjun stands from his chair so quickly it skitters across the floor. “Now I see why Howl was concerned about coming to see you. It’s a trap!” He points an accusing finger in the head sorcerer’s face. “You lure people here with an invitation from the King, and then you strip them of their powers. Howl would never be so heartless. He may be selfish and cowardly, but his intentions are good. He just wants to be free.

Howl won’t come here. He doesn’t need your help,” he says, crossing his arms. “He can fix his problem with his demon on his own, I’m certain of it.”

Madame Suliman smirks. “Ah, so you do love him. I was beginning to think it was all a guise, but you really do love Howl.”

“Howl?” Renjun jerks when hands close around the fabric of his blouse. The Witch is clinging to him, eyes wide and clear for the first time since she was wheeled in here. “Did you say Howl’s coming? I want his heart. His heart belongs to me!” She bursts into sobs, wailing at Renjun’s feet.

“Stop that, calm down.” Renjun carefully pulls away. “Howl is not coming here.”

“Oh, I think he will,” Madame Sulliman says. “You’re his weakness, Mr. Pendragon.”

The sound of a motor outside catches Renjun’s attention, but he doesn’t look away from the royal sorcerer. The doors to the courtyard open and in strolls an older gentleman in a royal uniform, and it takes Renjun a second to realize it’s the same gentleman who was promoting the flying kayak outside.

“Your Majesty,” Madame Suliman bows, and Renjun’s eyes widened. The King?

“As you were. So then, how are you feeling?” The King asks.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Thought I’d drop by rather than sit through another dull war meeting,” the King says. Renjun narrows his eyes — there’s something about him that looks very familiar, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. “And who are your guests?”

Renjun straightens up in his chair, eyes wide. There’s no way that’s…

“This is Howl’s husband,” Madame Suliman says airily, and Renjun tries not to scowl. She clearly doesn’t believe that they’re married, and she’s right, but he’s a fucking catch and anyone would be lucky to marry him.

“Thank you for coming,” the “King” strides over to shake his hand enthusiastically, “but I’ve decided not to use magic to win this war. We have tried using Madame Suliman’s magic to shield our palace from enemy bombs, but the bombs fall on civilian homes instead. That’s the problem with magic. Right, Suliman?”

“You’re so eloquent today, Your Majesty,” Madame Suliman muses, just as the real King walks in, a posse of guards and attendants trailing after him. To Jaemin’s credit, their appearances were almost the exact same, right down to the mustache and the amount of gold buttons on the uniform. The only difference was Jaemin’s hat and aviator goggles.

“Suliman!” The King shouts, waving a roll of parchment. “I’ve got a new battle plan. This time, we’re gonna beat them to a pulp!” He takes notice of Jaemin, still in disguise, but doesn’t seem surprised. “Suliman, that’s the best double you’ve made of me yet! Keep up the good work.”

So the King of Ingary is, lightly put, an idiot. Even a regular human could see right through Jaemin’s disguise. He can change his appearance, but he can’t change the fact that he’s intelligent and well-spoken. What a mess. For a second, Renjun feels brief fury at the thought of a king like that leading the war that has caused so much disruption and chaos to the civilians, but then he remembers where he is and that fury turns to fear instead.

“Your Majesty.” Madame Suliman nods, an amused smirk on her lips.

“Get my generals assembled!” The King barked at his guards, then led a small stampede marching confidently out of the room, leaving behind Jaemin, Renjun, Suliman, the Witch of the Waste, and the fluffy traitor dog.

“So nice to see you again, Howl,” Madame Suliman says. Jaemin steps beside Renjun’s chair, his disguise melting until his familiar head of black hair and clean shaven face appears.

“You’re looking well, Madame Suliman,” Jaemin says lightly. Renjun feels him shift closer, his hand coming to rest on Renjun’s shoulder.

“Rather weak disguise,” Madame Suliman remarks. Renjun bristles, but Jaemin doesn’t even seem to care. “Didn’t I teach you better?”

Jaemin just shrugs. “I’m not trying to outwit you. I kept my oath, and I reported when summoned. Now my husband and I must take our leave.”

“I’m afraid not.” Madame Suliman raises her staff as Jaemin lifts Renjun clean out of the chair, wrapping an arm around his waist until their sides are pressed together, just as the ground begins opening up into a void and the room fills with water. Suddenly, the water disperses, and they’re standing in the sky, the wind whipping at their clothes.

“Now whatever you do, don’t look down,” Jaemin murmurs in his ear. Renjun keeps his face turned straight forward, unwilling to see how high they are. He can’t tell if it’s an illusion, but the strong gales chilling him to the bone feel real, and the emptiness all around him feels real. But Jaemin’s arm is warm and strong around his waist, holding him securely in place, so he doesn’t let his fear get to him. His heart hammers in his chest, but

“It’s time to show your husband who you really are, Howl.” Madame Suliman’s voice is ominous as it echoes around them as if they’re in a chamber and not hundreds of feet in the air. Renjun watches as star-like lights begin falling from the sky and exploding almost like fireworks all around them. They stretch and shape until they almost look like silhouettes of humans joining hands and forming a circle with Renjun and Jaemin in the middle. Their shadows are massive and eerie, reaching as far as Renjun can see with the wind whipping into his eyes.

The hand around his waist grows in size, and Renjun looks down to see Jaemin’s fingers shaping into massive talons, then his legs doing the same, inky feathers bursting from the fabric of his trousers. His limbs extend and when Renjun glances up, Jaemin’s face is also transforming, feathers encroaching his cheeks and jaw. Massive wings sprout from his back and Jaemin snarls, though Renjun can’t tell if it’s a battle cry or a roar of agony from shape shifting.

Madame Sulliman emerges from the shadows, though it looks more like a projection of her than a real thing. Renjun panics and tries to push Jaemin away when he sees the sorcerer raising her glowing staff.

“Stop, Jaem, it’s a trap!” He cries. Sulliman throws her staff just as Jaemin’s grip tightens and with a mighty flap of his wings, they shoot up into the sky and burst through the glass ceiling of the room they were previously in. Renjun looks down, eyes wide. So it really was just an illusion?

Jaemin swoops to the ground and lands on top of the flying kayak, gently depositing Renjun into the seat before gripping the handlebars. “Hold on!” The kayak lifts into the air, and Renjun scrambles for the armrests of the seat, squeezing until his knuckles go white as they hurtle into the air on a metal machine with propellers.

Renjun startles when a big fluffy dog scrambles up into his lap, and when he turns around he realizes the Wicked Witch of the Waste is clinging to the back of his seat. He hadn’t even noticed before, but she’s hard to miss on what’s supposed to be a two-seater vehicle.

“Junnie, come sit up here,” Jaemin calls, a gentle hand on his arm guiding him into the front seat as Jeno squirms out of his lap. Renjun plops down in front of the controls as Jaemin steers with one hand. “Did you have to bring those two with you?”

He glances back over his shoulder. Jeno is now sitting on the Wicked Witch’s lap. She’s patting his head and staring blankly out into the open air. Renjun wonders what Suliman really did to her, and if she’ll ever return to her former self. He can’t help but pity her a little.

“I didn’t do it by choice,” Renjun grumbles. “I can’t believe that dog works for Suliman. I guess it’s too late to get rid of him.”

Jaemin laughs brightly, sounding so fond it makes Renjun’s ears turn red. “You're too kind to toss out anyone.” He looks back. “Here, take the wheel.”

“Are you kidding?!” Renjun exclaims. “I can’t fly this thing!”

“They’re gaining on us,” Jaemin explains patiently. Renjun cranes his neck to see royal aircrafts flying after them, soldiers in emerald green taking over the sky. “I’ll distract them, so you fly this back to our castle in the Wastes.”

Our castle. A little thrill runs through Renjun, and his hands close around the spokes of the wheel without him realizing it. “Wait. How am I supposed to find the castle? I don’t know the way!”

“Don’t worry,” Jaemin says, his free hand running briefly through Renjun’s hair. It’s so hard to believe that Jaemin can transform into a hulking, black-feathered beast when he’s so sweet otherwise. “The ring I gave you will guide you back home. All you have to do is summon Haechan with your heart.”

“Haechan?” Renjun blinks, lifting up his left hand. He thinks of the castle, of Haechan in its hearth powering the whole thing, and Jisung who must be worried by now, and the red stone on the ring sparks and shines a beam of light straight ahead. “Oh, it’s glowing!”

He looks up at Jaemin who’s smiling down at him. His left hand, still on the wheel, contains the same silver band. He moved it from his index finger to match Renjun’s. “Just keep following that light and you should be home before dark.”

Renjun shakes his head. “No fucking way I can do this. Why did you make me come here if you were just gonna come yourself?”

“Knowing you’d be there gave me the courage to show up,” Jaemin says, oddly serious for once. “That woman terrifies me, I can’t face her on my own." He bends down until his lips are barely brushing the shell of Renjun’s ear. “You saved me, Renjunnie. I was in big trouble back there.”

He’s so flustered, Renjun almost doesn’t notice Jaemin letting go of the wheel. He yelps when the kayak takes a nosedive, scrambling to take control of the aircraft when he’s not even sure how to steer it. He fumbles with the controls, barely managing to avoid a tower and slipping through the pillars of an ornate cupola.

“Wow, you’re good,” Jaemin laughs, sounding impressed.

“Are you insane?” Renjun cries, frantically twisting the wheel to try and figure out how to work it.

“But we’ve got a good lead now!” Jaemin says happily. “I can give you five minutes of invisibility, so use it wisely~” He waves a hand, and a copy of the kayak splits out from them. It’s almost unnerving, seeing someone who looks exactly like him, but Renjun knows it’s not real. More illusion magic, he guesses. Jaemin hops onto the nose of the real flying kayak, then leaps over the air to land on the fake one.

“Jaemin!” Renjun shouts, but Jaemin just grins at him, saluting with one hand as he changes the trajectory of his own aircraft.

“Good luck!” Jaemin calls.

Renjun barely has time to curse his name before the flying kayak rapidly approaches a massive tree in the forest outside of Kingsbury. He yanks hard on the wheel and the kayak goes up, barely skimming the top branches.

When Jaemin comes home, Renjun thinks darkly, I’m going to kill him myself.

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

Madame Sulliman sits in her chair and waves off one of her attendants trying to offer her some tea. Another two are pulling her staff out from the chair that Mr. Pendragon had sat in, his hat pinned to the backrest.

“That was the most fun I’ve had in ages,” she says airily. Her attendant brings her the staff, which she accepts gratefully. “I suppose Howl thinks he’s evaded me.” She takes Mr. Pendragon’s sun hat, a hole pierced through the fabric, and smirks. “But I bet his husband can help me find him.”

Back in town, and in Porthaven, the King’s forces break down the doors of Pendragon and the Great Wizard Na, only to find empty, abandoned buildings.

But of course, Jaemin Pendragon wasn’t there, because he never was in the first place. He had always been living in his castle in the Wastes.

Little did they know, Jaemin did plan on settling down. But not in the royal city of Kingsbury, nor beautiful, scenic Porthaven, but rather a tiny, practically unremarkable town called Market Chipping.

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

Renjun squints in the pouring rain, his clothes drenched and sticking to his body. The old witch is silent behind him, and Jeno’s fur is matted with rainwater. He can hardly see in front of him, but at least the ring is still leading him home.

“Oh!” He gasps when he catches sight of familiar rooftops. “We’re almost there! That’s my hometown below.” Jeno barks, pawing gently at Renjun’s shoulder. He’s a good boy, even if he works for Sulliman.

Familiar with the controls now, Renjun takes them down lower as they glide over Market Chipping, leaving the town behind glowing in the distance. The Wastes is a comforting sight, though Renjun never thought he’d find it so, and when he flies over the ridge he spots the castle, wheezing and clunking over the Wastes.

“Renjun!” Jisung is standing on one of the rickety balconies, waving his arms as the flying kayak draws near.

Renjun panics. “Jisung, help me! How am I supposed to land this thing?!” Just as he’s close enough, the castle’s mouth unhinges with a loud squeak, wooden planks like teeth prying open and closing around the kayak. They crash through the wall, Renjun’s arms flying up to cover his face as smashed debris flies everywhere.

He picks himself up from the floor, coughing as a cloud of dust rises into the air, and stumbles over the wreckage to wrap Jisung in a hug. “I’m home!”

“I missed you,” Jisung says, and Renjun’s heart warms. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine!” Renjun waves off his concerns, sinking into Jisung’s embrace and closing his eyes. What a relief, to be out of that mess. “Are you hungry? Let’s get you something to eat.”

“No, no. You’ve had a long day, you should let me make something.”

“I’m fine,” Renjun repeats. He doesn’t have many clothes, so he steals some from Jaemin’s bedroom. The flowy white shirt reaches past his wrists, and he has to roll up the sleeves so they don’t get in the way. His clothes smell like green apple and birchwood, and Renjun takes a deep breath before heading back to the kitchen.

“Why is she here?” Jisung asks, eyes narrowed at the Witch of the Wastes. She’s sitting lifelessly in Renjun’s chair by the fire. Jeno is at her feet, drying his fur with Haechan’s warmth.

Renjun shrugs. “The King’s sorcerer took her magic away. I guess she’s helpless without it. She can stay here until we figure out what to do with her.”

“Master Howl isn’t gonna like that,” Jisung mutters, but he dutifully brews a pot of tea when Renjun asks him to, and even pours a cup for the Witch. Renjun whips up a quick dinner of sourdough sandwiches, and they sit together on the floor near the hearth, Jisung snuggled into his side and a blanket wrapped around their shoulders.

“It’s late.” Renjun tries for casualness when their dinner has been reduced to nothing but crumbs and the Witch has fallen asleep in her chair. “Howl isn’t back yet.”

“He usually stays out this late.” Jisung wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Renjun has yet to get him to start using napkins. “He’s only started coming home earlier ‘cause you’re here.”

Renjun smiles and ruffles Jisung’s hair, earning himself a sleepy scowl in return. He rests his head against Jisung’s shoulder, drawing the blanket tighter around them. Jisung gives out affection so easily, and it makes happiness bubble up inside of him. He’s never had that kind of relationship with his family, as much as he loves them. He wonders if Jisung has always been like this, or if it’s something that Jaemin taught him as well.

“How did you meet Jaem — er, Howl — anyway?” Renjun asks, when the Witch has moved to the couch and they’ve relocated to Renjun’s mattress on the floor, tucked away in the corner of the living room. Haechan is crackling quietly in his hearth; he hasn’t said much all night.

“Oh. Um.” Jisung falters for a moment. Renjun is about to tell him to forget it when he visibly swallows and powers through. “I’m an orphan from Porthaven. He found me sleeping on the castle’s doorstep and invited me inside. I haven’t left since. Master Howl is weird but… he loves me, I think.”

“He does love you,” Renjun says confidently. Jaemin is a mystery in many ways, but this is one thing Renjun is sure of. The way he speaks to Jisung; how he treats him so tenderly. Even though he rarely seems to eat, Jaemin leaves the kitchen stocked and plenty of money behind should Jisung need to take a trip to the markets.

“Oh.” Jisung ducks his head, but Renjun can see the pink in his cheeks, illuminated by the firelight.

“You should get to bed,” Renjun says, and Jisung obediently worms his way out from the blanket. He offers a sweet goodnight, and Renjun hears his footsteps padding up the stairs. He sighs, stretching out on his thin, lumpy mattress and pulling the blanket over himself. Haechan crackles away in the fire, and the Witch of the Waste snoring grows louder. Renjun rolls over and buries his face in the pillow.

Jaemin still isn’t home.

Renjun doesn’t even realize he’s dreaming.

He hears the door open and close, and heavy, foreboding footsteps thudding across the room, the floorboards reverberating. Renjun manages to catch a glimpse of a hulking black shadow on the stairs.

“Jaem?”

No response. The heavy, rasped breathing fades, and Renjun pushes the covers off, reaching for his slippers and tying his hair back with a ribbon. He hurries over to the stairs, and gasps when he catches sight of dark red blood dripping down the wood, surrounded by a mess of black feathers.

He makes his way to Jaemin’s room and knocks on the door. That shuddering, gravelly breathing sounds even louder now, rattling the door frame. Renjun reaches for the knob, then hesitates.

“Jaemin, I’m coming in.”

No answer. He pulls open the door and gasps. The room looks different now — gone is Jaemin’s bed and furniture. The trinkets and antiques no longer look glittering and pretty, but rather ominous and crowded. There are two black hole tunnels on the other side, and Renjun pauses briefly. Which one is Jaemin down?

The breathing turns to growls, and Renjun follows the sound until he finds a massive black cloud of feathers curled up and shuddering with every snarl.

“Jaemin, are you alright? Are you in any pain?”

“Go away.” It’s the most harsh Jaemin has ever been with him, but he doesn’t sound like he wants Renjun to leave. He sounds anguished.

“Please,” Renjun says, stepping closer. “I want to help you.”

“You can’t.” Jaemin curls up even tighter. “Just leave me alone.”

“But you don’t understand,” the words that rip from Renjun’s throat don’t feel like his own, but he means them all the same, “I love you.”

“Renjun.”

He turns around and Jaemin is standing there, his hair blond and his pink and purple cape around his shoulders. He smiles, but it looks sad.

He lifts a hand to cup Renjun’s cheek, and his touch is cold. Behind Renjun lingers an ominous presence, growing larger by the second, but he can’t look away from Jaemin’s face. He’s speaking, or at least, his lips are moving, but his words are distorted. It takes him a second to realize what he said.

“I’m sorry.”

There’s movement from behind him, and suddenly he’s shoved backwards just as a mass of black feathers and hulking muscle rush past him, and the shadows of the tunnel wrap around Jaemin just as the feathers obscur his vision. There’s a flash of sharp teeth, a sickening crunch.

Renjun screams and—

He shoots up from his mattress on the floor just as the sound of a door closing echoes from above, his chest tight as he breathes heavily until his vision clears. He’s still opposite the hearth, Haechan crackling away on the other side of the room. He tries to slow his breathing, closing his eyes until his heart rate returns to normal.

Just a dream, he tells himself.

“Haechannie, did Jaemin just get back?” Renjun asks aloud.

“Yeah, and he looks terrible. Renjun, you gotta break the spell between me and him. He’s running out of time.”

Renjun narrows his eyes at the fire demon. “Madame Sulliman said that Jaemin’s heart was stolen by a demon. Tell me now, what do you know?”

“Oh come on, Renjun, you know I can’t tell you the details, it’s confidential information.” Haechan rolled his little fireball eyes. “You should know that by now.”

Renjun scowls. “What if I dump a bucket of water over you?”

“Hey, if I die, Howl dies too,” Haechan says. “You don’t wanna kill Howl, do you?”

“It’s tempting sometimes.”

“Well, that’s rather unfortunate.” Renjun whirls around to see Jaemin leaning on the railing of the staircase, a gorgeous grin on his face. He looks tired, but happy. Renjun has never felt so relieved in seeing him. “Good morning, Haechan. Renjun.”

He says Renjun’s name like it’s something precious, his smile getting wider. Renjun’s heart skips a beat in his chest.

“Good morning, Jaemin,” Renjun says as Jaemin glides down the stairs. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I did, thank you.” Liar, Renjun doesn’t say. “The Witch of the Waste and Sulliman’s dog in my castle? What possessed you to let them in, Haechan?”

Haechan bristles as much as a fire can. “I didn’t let them in, Renjun crash landed his plane into my face!”

Jaemin throws his head back and laughs. “I knew he’d make a great pilot.”

“Stop making fun of me,” Renjun says crossly. Jaemin just grins.

“Would you like to have breakfast with me, Renjun?”

Renjun is surprised at the offer, but he says yes. By the time Jisung has made his way downstairs, puffy-eyed and still sleepy, Jaemin has assembled them sourdough sandwiches with avocado and thick slices of tomato and ham.

“Oh, wow, we’re having breakfast together again?” Jisung brightens up, suddenly looking wide awake as he scampers over to his chair just as Jaemin sets out a plate for him. “Renjun, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to this family.”

Renjun sputters, flustered, but Jaemin just winks at him from over the brim of his tea cup. He hides his flushed face behind a napkin, but he’s never felt so happy.

“What are your plans for the day, Renjun?” Jaemin asks when their breakfast has been reduced to crumbs and Jeno is eating chunks of raw beef at Renjun‘s feet.

“I was thinking of sewing some new curtains for the bathroom windows,” Renjun answers, raising his voice over the sound of Jisung trying to feed the Witch of the Waste a bowl of rice porridge. She keeps staring at Haechan in the hearth, ignoring the young apprentice completely. “Why?”

“Oh.” Jaemin gives him a mysterious smile. “There will be no need for that.” He pushes his chair back and stands from the table. “First, let’s get rid of this.”

He walks over to the massive hole in the wall where Renjun crashed in on the flying kayak.

“Told you I can’t fly,” Renjun grumbles, but Jaemin just laughs.

“Open up, Haechan,” he says, and the mouth-like opening gets wider. With one single push, the flying kayak rattles and flutters as it glides down the tongue shaped ramp, crashing in a heap at the bottom. He dusts his hands off while Jisung and Renjun peek out of the hole, exchanging surprised glances. “Okay, that takes care of that.”

“What a handsome man,” the Witch of the Waste says, ignoring Jisung’s attempts to feed her.

“We’ve got a lot of work today, everyone,” Jaemin announces with his hands on his hips. He looks so happy despite the circles under his eyes, his whole face lighting up. “We’re moving!”

“Moving?” Renjun repeats dubiously.

Jisung cheers. “That’s great, I’m sick of being stuck out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“Madame Sulliman’s hot on our heels, so we’re gonna have to hurry.” Jeno barks, darting out from under the table to ram straight into Jaemin’s ankles. He softens, crouching down to pat his head. “You’ve got a nasty spell on you, hm? Seems like everyone in our family is running away from something.”

Huh? “A spell?” Renjun asks, but Jaemin is already straightening up.

A few moments later, Renjun is sitting on the front stoop watching Jaemin wheel around a contraption that paints clean white lines on the grass. It takes him a moment to realize that Jaemin is painting a spell circle, one almost as big as the bottom of the castle.

“All right, Haechan! Line her up!” Jaemin yells. There’s a loud, metallic creak as the castle clanks and clatters its way over to the spell circle, cantering itself above the middle.

Inside, Jaemin draws another spell circle on the floor in chalk, white dust clinging to the black fabric of his pants.

“There, that should do it.” He tucks the chalk piece into his pocket as Renjun and the others peer at the floor from where Jaemin has seated them on the table. “Sit tight for a sec.”

He walks over to the fireplace and scoops Haechan out with a metal dustpan, and Renjun watches, fascinated, as he steps into the middle of the spell circle.

“On my mark,” Jaemin tells Haechan. He waves hand in one swift motion, sticking it out at his side as a gust of wind from seemingly nowhere makes his hair fly up and his shirt billow around him. Black feathers twist and turn in the air as Haechan’s fire increases in size, turning a blinding white-blue.

Renjun gasps when the room begins to bend and waver, the walls turning different colors and stretching and shrinking around them. Suddenly, things begin to transform. The rickety windows turn into beautiful polished wood and glass. The walls go from dusty and plain to clean and decorated with ornate trim. Even the stairs change, and furniture pops up everywhere.

When the fire settles with a hissing noise, and Haechan shrinks back to his original size, the castle looks completely different.

Renjun sits, stunned. The kitchen is fully functional, and there’s so much natural light. The room itself looks more like a fairytale cottage than the cluttered mess it used to be. There’s a comfortable sofa right in front of the fire, and the front door is a gorgeous solid oak.

“Moving’s done!” Jaemin declares as he puts Haechan back in the hearth. “You can get down now.”

Jisung jumps up immediately, running around with Jeno at his heels. “This is great, Master Howl! It’s huge!” He spreads his arms out, spinning around with a massive grin on his face.

“Oh, what a pretty fire,” the Witch of the Waste says, but Renjun is distracted by the familiar sound of a bell toll, and an even more familiar train whistle.

He runs over to the window, his eyes going wide when he realizes where Jaemin has moved them.

His hometown has never looked so beautiful, the red roofs and trains and busy streets soothing an ache he didn’t realize he possessed.

“Jaemin, this is…” Renjun’s at a loss for words.

“Renjun.” Jaemin comes to stand at his side, looking out at the bustling town before them. “There’s no reason for you to run anymore, is there? Welcome home.”

Renjun thinks he could cry, but Jaemin is already taking his hand to give him a tour of all the new additions.

“I even added another bathroom,” Jaemin says happily, “since our family keeps getting bigger.”

He guides Renjun to the stairs, and there’s a door in front of them that wasn’t there before.

“I added another bedroom, too.” Jaemin pushes open the door just as Renjun steps forward. “Have a look.”

The room is beautiful. It’s small, but spacious. There’s a comfortable looking bed taking up one wall, and a big desk next to a window that illuminates the whole room with sunlight. Renjun walks in with his hands clutched to his chest, taking in the pretty yellow walls and flowing white curtains. His bedspread is covered in little daisies.

“Jisung mentioned that you like to do art, so I thought a big window would be best. Lots of natural light,” Jaemin says, grinning proudly.

Renjun’s practically at a loss for words. “Why’d you… do all this?”

“So you could have a room that suits you,” Jaemin tells him, expressing nothing but honesty. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Renjun whispers. “Thank you.”

“I got you some new clothes, too,” Jaemin says, gesturing at the stack of boxes wrapped in pretty paper on the desk. “But you can open those later.” He disappears, and Renjun hears him calling his name from the front of their home.

He takes one last look around the room before meeting Jaemin at the front door.

“A courtyard!” Jisung says, rushing outside with Jeno at his heels. He looks like he’s having the time of his life, but Renjun can hardly believe himself. He’s looking at his tailor shop after so long, and every part of him feels warm like flowing gold.

“That shop over there is ours too.” He closes the door, and points to the dial next to the door. There’s a new section, colored a bright yellow. Renjun’s favorite color, to be precise, but he doesn’t remember ever telling Jaemin that. It spins around until the arrow is pointing at the yellow with a ding. “There’s a new portal.”

Jaemin pulls open the door to reveal a meadow filled with beautiful flowers. Renjun gasps, his eyes going wide as he takes in the beautiful scenery. He’s never seen anything quite like it before.

“It’s a present for you,” Jaemin tells him, eyes sparkling. “Come see.”

When Renjun steps outside, he’s immediately met with warm sunlight and the sound of birds chirping their sweet songs. The door looks like a tiny fairy house, its rusty red shingles covered in moss and vines.

“Oh, wow,” Renjun breathes. The meadows extend as far as the eye can see, the only obstruction being the snow capped mountains in the distance. There are ponds and small lakes everywhere, and the whole place is so serene, completely untouched for humanity.

Jaemin extends an arm for Renjun to hold, his small fingers nestling in the crook of Jaemin’s elbow as he guides him across the grass. “Do you like it? It’s my secret garden.”

“It’s… incredible,” Renjun says, still in awe. His fingers itch for a paintbrush and a canvas to capture the world before him. “Did you… did you use your magic to make this?“

Jaemin smiles. “Only a little. Just to help the flowers grow.”

He hops over a small stream, then helps Renjun cross too, his boots thudding softly in the mud. He gasps when he sees the biggest lake yet, ditching Jaemin to run to the shore. The water is so clear that it completely mirrors the bright blue sky, right down to the puffy white clouds and the shining sun that sends sparkles along the surface.

“This place is gorgeous, Jaemin,” Renjun exclaims, laughing a little in disbelief. He whirls around, unable to keep his smile off his face. “It’s like a dream.”

For a second, he’s caught off guard by Jaemin’s expression. His smile looks so fond, his gaze adoring and his eyes only on Renjun despite the scenery before them.

Finally, he seems to snap out of it. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” Renjun says quietly. Jaemin’s hair is rifled by the breeze. A ladybug sits on his shoulder, spreading its wings when it reaches the top and taking off, soaring into the air until Renjun can’t see it anymore. He’s never felt so at peace. “It all seems so familiar even though I know I’ve never been here before.”

“Come with me.” Jaemin takes Renjun’s hand once more, their fingers slotting together perfectly. Jaemin’s hand is warm in his as he leads him to the top of a hill. “Look over there.”

He points, and Renjun follows the direction of his finger until he sees a tiny cottage at the edge of a pond, made of white brick and stone. It’s small, but it looks cozy. The grass looks even more vivid in comparison to the wooden door and dark gray shingles, a myriad of colorful flowers dotting the property as a water wheel rotates at the side of the house.

“Oh, what a beautiful cottage,” Renjun breathes.

“I used to come here all the time when I was young. It was like my secret hideaway,” Jaemin explains.

“You were alone?” Renjun’s unable to keep the concern out of his voice, and it makes Jaemin smile fondly.

“My uncle, who was a wizard, gave me this place as my private study. And now, you can come here whenever you like.”

Renjun can’t help it; his face falls.

“What’s the matter?” Jaemin asks.

“I just… you’re scaring me. It sounds to me like you’re going to leave,” Renjun whispers. “Jaemin, what’s going on? I know that—I know that I can be of help to you, even if all I’m really good at is cleaning and sewing.”

Jaemin pulls him in close, and Renjun stumbles until hands settle around his waist. His heart leaps in his throat, and he can feel a furious blush taking over his cheeks.

“You are everything to me,” Jaemin murmurs. “I don’t care about how useful you can be, that is not what I want from you.”

“Then what do you want from me?” Renjun asks, eyes searching Jaemin’s for any hesitation and finds nothing but adoration. It’s almost suffocating, but in the best way possible.

“I would like for you to stay, if you’d like,” Jaemin says. “But other than that? I’d like to see you happy. I want to see that beautiful smile of yours every single day.”

Renjun smiles helplessly now, ducking his head immediately. For a coward, Jaemin is brave to say what he’s thinking like this.

“I want that too,” Renjun tells him sincerely, unable to tear his gaze away from the ground. They’re standing toe to toe now, his worn brown boots touching Jaemin’s polished leather shoes, somehow still pristine despite the mud.

Jaemin’s smile is slow and beautiful. “Dance with me, Renjun.”

He seizes Renjun’s hand in his own, the other still at his waist, and spins him around, laughing when he stumbles.

“There’s no music!” He cries, but he’s laughing too. Jaemin helps him with the footwork, uncaring when Renjun accidentally steps on his toes, until they’re waltzing across the grass to the soundtrack of their giggles.

“You’re a natural,” Jaemin tells him, his lips stretched in a charming grin. He tucks a lock of hair that’s escaped from Renjun’s ponytail behind his ear. Their faces are so close.

“You said that to me on the day we met,” Renjun says once he’s caught his breath. “Do you remember?”

“I could never forget a moment I spent with you.”

Renjun wants to kiss him. His cheeks are aching from smiling too hard, his hand is too warm, wrapped up in Jaemin’s, and he’s never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his life. It’s not like he’s got much experience — there aren’t a lot of options in Market Chipping — but he almost craves it now, Jaemin’s lips against his own.

He thinks Jaemin might be thinking the same thing, because his gaze flickers down to Renjun’s mouth, but they’re interrupted by the roar of an aircraft, and Jaemin is immediately tearing his gaze away.

“That’s one of the King’s ships, isn’t it?” Renjun’s brow furrows. “What’s it doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Jaemin says, mouth set in a hard line, “but whatever it is, it can’t be good.”

“Is it the enemy’s? Or ours?”

“What difference does it make? They’re all murderers. We can’t just let them fly off with all those bombs.”

He lifts his hand with something akin to fire in his eyes, and with an ear-piercing screech, the metal on the hull of the ship crumples, and the aircraft emits an ominous groan.

“What did you do?” Renjun demands.

The corners of Jaemin’s mouth quirk up. “Just messed with it. It won’t crash though.”

Renjun watches as a hatch in the bottom of the aircraft opens up, and out pours a flurry of modified flying kayaks.

“Jaem!”

“Oh, here they come~” Jaemin sings. “Those are Sulliman’s henchmen. We better get going.”

Massive black wings sprout from his back, and it’s the only warning Renjun gets before he’s scooped up from the grass, hurtling towards the door to the castle.

“Are you insane?!” Renjun shrieks over the wind rushing past his ears, his legs flailing in an unsightly manner as he tries to cling onto any part of Jaemin he can reach. They’re inches from the door when Jaemin practically tosses him inside, the door slamming behind him as he tumbles down the stairs.

“Ow,” he moans pathetically as Jisung scrambles over.

“Renjun, are you okay?” He helps Renjun to his feet, and Renjun rubs at his aching tailbone and sore elbow from where he jammed it against the stairs.

“I’m too old to be treated like this,” Renjun complains.

“You’re only twenty one!” Jisung protests. Renjun ignores him and stomps into the kitchen, huffing as he pulls out cookware from the new cabinets.

Since he’s back in the castle after having been so rudely thrown on his ass, he might as well get started on lunch.

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

The sun set and rose, but Jaemin was still not home.

Renjun finds himself constantly checking out the window or turning to the door at every little noise, hoping that Jaemin will return safe and sound.

Jisung is practicing drawing spells, sprawled on the ground after a hearty breakfast. Haechan is unusually silent in his hearth. Jeno is curled up at Renjun’s feet, his fluffy fur tickling his ankle below the cuff of his trousers.

“Don’t worry, Renjun,” Jisung says when he catches Renjun staring at the door once more. “Sometimes Master Howl goes away for a few days, but he always comes back in the end.”

“Thank you, Jisung.” Renjun reaches out and strokes at the soft hair on Jisung’s head, smoothing down the pieces that were sticking out. He still can’t get him to comb his hair in the mornings. “That’s good to know.”

But he hoped Jaemin would come home soon. Evening came, bringing the soft rays of sunset through the windows, and he sighed as he leaned against the counter, a chipped mug of tea in his hand.

“Someone’s in love,” the old witch coos from her rocking chair near the fire.

“What?!” Renjun startles, his face going red. Jeno lifts his head to peer around the room sleepily, then settles back down when he realizes the only threat is Renjun’s heart jumping out of his chest. “I’m—I’m not in love!”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” the Witch of the Waste says, shaking her head. “You’ve been sighing all day.”

Renjun sighs again. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes, dear. In fact I’m still in love.” The old witch gives him a wrinkled smile, folding her hands over her chest. “Strapping, young men are so difficult to deal with, but their hearts I just adore.”

“You’re terrible,” Renjun informs her with a scowl. He’s never met such a horrid being, even if she can barely walk or eat now. But he does feel bad for her. What must it be like to be snubbed by the royal palace for fifty years, only to have your powers drained the moment you step foot in the castle?

A loud warning blare wails outside, sending the window panes into a tremble. Renjun whirls around, startled. “What was that?”

“It’s an air raid siren,” the Witch says mildly.

“Air raid?” Renjun echoes, eyes wide.

“It’s a long way’s off,” she replies, then shakes a finger at him. “But you better not go outside tonight, dear. I’m sure Suliman’s henchmen are looking everywhere for this place.”

Renjun falls quiet, shuddering. Suliman’s henchmen scare him more than the Witch’s ever did. He thinks about how Jaemin, instead of commanding an army of henchmen, chooses to be a one man army himself. He wonders if there’s a reason behind that.

He thinks Jaemin isn’t really so cowardly after all.

“What a good fire,” the Witch of the Waste says once Renjun has helped her into bed. She gazes adoringly at the hearth through the door of the bedroom where Haechan is flickering away. “He keeps this house so well hidden.”

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

Thick black smoke clogged the skies, the ground below a barren wasteland as royal aircrafts dropped bombs below. Fires roared wherever they landed, reducing everything to ash.

Jaemin soared between the fleets in his bird form, mouth pressed together in a grim line.

The war was starting to move towards Market Chipping. Of course, the royal air force had no qualms when it came to blowing up civilian homes, but Jaemin was still surprised at how they would stop at nothing to win this battle.

Allegedly, the war had broken out over a missing prince from a neighboring kingdom, but Jaemin knew better. The prince’s disappearance was just an excuse. The kings of both kingdoms have been waiting to start a war.

He considers leaving.

As soldiers pour out of their aircrafts on flying kayaks and the whirring of their propellers fills Jaemin’s ears, he thinks about taking Renjun and Jisung and going far, far away.

But he’s already uprooted Renjun from his whole life once, and he’s reluctant to do it again.

Besides, he promised Renjun that he wouldn’t run anymore. And he was nothing if not a man of his word.

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

It is morning again, and Jaemin has still not returned home.

Renjun is sweeping the floors while Jeno pushes between his legs and trips him up. Jisung is playing outside in the courtyard, and the Witch of the Waste is rocking in her chair. Renjun wonders how he can politely get rid of her, then decides to leave it up to Jaemin when he comes back.

“Renjun!” Jisung yells from outside. “Renjun!”

“I’m coming,” Renjun shouts back, rolling his eyes. He sweeps up the last of the dust and debris and tosses it out before abandoning the broom to step outside.

He squints into the morning sun, shielding his eyes with one hand to find Jisung sitting with an unfamiliar boy that looks to be the same age as the little apprentice.

“Oh! Hello!” he greets, dusting off his clothes as he surveys the newcomer. He’s so small, and his clothes are covered in dust.

“This is Chenle,” Jisung introduces them. “He’s just like me. Can he stay with us?”

“Just like you?” Renjun echoes before his brain catches up to his mouth. “Well, I don’t see why not. Why don’t the two of you come inside and have some breakfast?”

Jisung lights up, dragging his new friend inside as Renjun contemplates whether or not he’s made a good decision. But what’s done is done, so he goes back inside and makes pancakes.

“My mom died when I was young,” Chenle explains when Jisung goes upstairs to take his bath. “And my dad is a royal soldier.”

He doesn’t say what they both know — the likelihood of his father coming home is slim to none. Not when the king so easily sacrifices his people like pawns.

“What have you been doing since then?” Renjun asks softly as he clears away the plates.

Chenle shrugs. “Staying in abandoned houses, mostly. Or sleeping in courtyards on benches. That’s how Jisung found me.”

He’s so nonchalant about it. Renjun’s heart hurts for him. “How much did Jisung tell you?”

“As much as he could. He talks a lot, surprisingly. I think we were out there for a couple hours before he thought to invite me in,” Chenle explains.

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “I’ve never known Jisung to be such an early riser.”

“He says…” Chenle hesitates, looking over Renjun’s face carefully. His teeth dig into his lower lip, and Renjun isn’t sure if it’s his place to reprimand him. “He says that it was fate. That brought us together, and I know it sounds dumb but…” he straightens up, squaring his shoulders. “But I think so too.”

He spits out that last part like Renjun might make fun of him for it. But he believes in fate, too. How could he not, when fate is what brought he and Jaemin together that very first day, on that little side street where Jaemin rescued him?

“Well,” Renjun says cautiously, reaching out to push a lock of hair out of Chenle’s face. He needs a trim, Renjun notes. “I’m glad fate has brought you to us. Let’s get you a change of clothes, so that you might have a bath as well.”

Chenle’s answering smile is blinding.

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

Renjun is drawing a bath for Chenle when the Witch of the Waste pushes herself out of her chair, suddenly spry as if she had never had her magic drained.

Chenle had one small knapsack with him, which he left on the table. The Witch opens up the latch and digs inside, pulling out a little black worm-like creature, writhing between her fingers.

“A peeping bug?” She says aloud, rolling her eyes. “Can’t Sulliman do better than that?” She tosses the bug into the fire demon’s mouth, listening as Haechan sputters and shrieks before shrinking to nothing more than a small pile of glowing embers.

Sulliman has taken so much from her already. Her powers, for one. Her pride. The apprenticeship that she gave to Howl; the reason she sold her heart to a demon to gain more power in the first place.

The Witch of the Waste is not going to let her take Howl too — not when she has yet to find his heart. She doesn’t really want it, but she doesn’t want anyone else to have it.

Not when he broke hers beyond repair when he left her because she wasn’t beautiful enough. When he found out what she really looked like beyond the magic and glamor.

Although, the Witch muses, it looks like his heart already belongs to the little witch upstairs.

Said witch plods down the stairs, adjusting the strings of his apron so it fits better around his waist. She watches as he ties his hair into a ponytail, tripping on the last step and stumbling into the living room.

“Do you want me to make something for you to eat?” Renjun asks gently when he catches her staring. “You didn’t have any pancakes.”

He’s too kind for his own good.

“No, dear. That’s alright,” she says, and earns herself a pretty smile. She can see why Howl loves him.

It’s a shame that she’s always been known for her selfishness.

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

“That’s a very pretty top, Renjun.”

“Oh, thank you, Chenle.” It’s one that Jaemin gifted to him. Renjun pauses to adjust the flowy lavender sleeves, tugging self consciously at the low cut hem that drapes just below his collarbones. It’s not something he would have ever worn on his own, but he likes it.

He used to dress so plainly, but Renjun thinks that plain and simple is not in Jaemin’s dictionary. Today, though, he doesn’t have much cleaning to do, so he can wear something nice without fear of getting it dirty.

Chenle and Jisung have their chairs pressed together at the table, almost no space between them while Renjun puts together their breakfast. But try as he might, Renjun can’t get Haechan going.

“Haechannie?” Renjun puts down the bellows pump and bends over the hearth. The fire demon is no larger than the palm of his hand, and he doesn’t respond when Renjun calls his name. Renjun has never seen the fire look so weak.

He backs away from the hearth even though he is worried, and resolves to serve sweet bread and marmalade instead to the two hungry boys in the kitchen. There’s no hot water for tea, so he squeezes fresh orange juice instead, staring out the window as if the answer to his problems could be found outside in the cloudless sky.

Jaemin is still not home, and something is wrong with Haechan. He’s at a loss for what to do.

“Aren’t you going to have some too?” Jisung asks, breaking Renjun out of his thoughts. He tries for a smile, not wanting them to worry.

“My stomach is a bit upset with me today,” Renjun lies. “I’m sure it’ll feel better after some rest.”

“You should go lie down!” Jisung suggests, jumping up from his chair. “Chenle and I will do the chores, don’t worry!”

Renjun is more worried about the kids doing the chores than actually doing them himself, but it would be nice to relax a bit. Their home isn’t as dusty and cluttered as it once was, but it’s still big enough that it’s difficult to clean by himself.

Surprisingly, they do a good job. Chenle is especially helpful, washing the dishes and polishing the wood floors after Jisung mops.

Renjun has them sit down for lunch, and Chenle tells them all kinds of stories of what happened to him while he was living on the streets.

“My grandma hates me,” he proclaims through a mouthful of salad. “So she kicked me out as soon as my dad left. She told me he wasn’t going to come back. So I stole her gold jewelry and sold it at the market for money. It’s a good thing you found me though,” he tells Jisung who has been shocked into silence, “I was almost running out.”

“Master Howl is going to like you,” Jisung tells him. “You can learn how to do the same spells as me.”

A loud commotion outside grabs Renjun’s attention, and he hurries to the window to see a massive crowd moving through the streets of Market Chipping. All running away from their homes in hopes of escaping the war.

“Whoa,” he says as Jisung and Chenle’s heads pop up beside him, like curious meerkats. “Look at all of them.” It looks so much like the royal parade, but instead of celebrating the king, they’re cursing him. “At this rate, the whole town will be empty. It’s good that they’re evacuating, I guess.”

He feels a tug on his sleeve, and turns to see Jisung staring at him, eyes wide and shiny. He used to be shorter than Renjun, but now they’re the same height. “Do you want to leave too, Renjun?”

Renjun blinks. “What?”

“I mean… you’re from here, right? You could go with your family…” Tears begin to well up in his eyes and he launches himself into Renjun’s arms. “Please don’t leave us! W-we’re a family, now. Please stay. I love you, you have to stay.”

“Hey, hey,” Renjun says quickly, aiming for soothing. He holds onto Jisung as tightly as he can. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you too.”

Chenle joins in on the hug, and despite the fact that Renjun has only known him for about a day, he feels his heart melt. These are his boys, and he’d never leave them behind.

Woof! Jeno’s claws click on the floor as he charges at them, barreling into their legs with his full body weight and sending them stumbling.

“Okay, okay!” Renjun crouches down to scratch at Jeno’s ears, giggling. “You’re a part of this family too.”

They curl up on the couch in the living room, mostly because Renjun is afraid to leave Haechan alone when he’s barely more than a handful of glowing coal, and Chenle tells them more about his previous life. Renjun shares stories about working at his tailor shop, and Jisung adds on with tales of how his apprenticeship with Jaemin began.

Renjun has heard most of it already, but he listens idly, stroking Jeno’s head resting in his lap. Jisung is so cute when he talks, his hands just as expressive as his face. Chenle seems to adore him too, his smile never leaving his face as he leans his hand in his cheek and watches Jisung.

He wishes Jaemin were here right now. It’s hard to consider this a family bonding moment without him, not when his presence lights up every room. Even Jisung, who has always been bright, becomes happier whenever Jaemin is around. He can’t shake the feeling that something is missing — like Jaemin is the puzzle piece needed to complete the whole picture.

BOOM!

Out of nowhere, an explosion rocks the house, and Renjun immediately puts his arms around Chenle and Jisung just as a series of even more explosions shake the floors. Jeno whimpers and jumps fully into Chenle’s lap.

“Stay here,” Renjun says hurriedly as he climbs to his feet. “Don’t move from this couch, okay?“

He rushes over to the door and yanks it open, stepping out just as an aircraft roars over the building. He can’t tell if it’s theirs or the enemy’s, but it doesn’t matter when both drop bombs indiscriminately.

Renjun flinches when another aircraft flies above, but he barely gets a glimpse of the bombs being dropped over him, fear pounding in his heart, before a massive black streak obstructs his view.

“Jaemin, no!” Renjun shouts, but Jaemin plummets down from the sky and wraps him in his arms, shielding him from the explosion.

Renjun has always thought Jaemin’s winged form was pretty. Obsidian feathers framing his face, wings like an angel spanning twice the length of Renjun’s forearms. But now his feathers are singed and smell of smoke, all because he came to protect Renjun.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing out here? It’s dangerous, you should get back inside.” He shifts into his human form, but it looks painful, a wince that he can’t hide on his face as his wings retract and the feathers disappear from his skin.

“God, just—“ Renjun pulls him into a hug, trying to hold back the tears that spring to his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Jaemin holds him close, pushing the hair that escaped from his ponytail out from his face with an expression so tender that Renjun has to look away.

There’s a horrible hissing and squelching coming from the doorway of the courtyard, and Renjun glances over to see Sulliman’s goo henchmen squeezing through, hollow growls escaping from their unhinged jaws.

Unbothered, Jaemin guides Renjun back inside, and when Renjun turns back, the henchmen can’t get through, trapped by an invisible barrier. They’re sucked out like a vacuum, and the door swings shut behind them.

“Master Howl! Renjun! You’re okay!” Jisung exclaims, running up to Renjun to hug him.

“Haechan, honey,” Jaemin coos, bringing one hand over the hearth. “Come on, hang in there now.” With his own magic, the fire demon grows, turning pink and then orange as he coughs up smoke and a little star explodes over his head.

“Howl, she fed me something gross,” Haechan complains. “I feel sick.”

Jaemin turns and walks over to the rocking chair, where the Witch of the Waste is waiting for him. “Why, if it isn’t Howl,” she croons, as Renjun watches with wide eyes. “I think you and I need to have a nice, long heart-to-heart.”

“There’s nothing I’d like more than that.” Jaemin’s smile is so, so gentle. Renjun can’t tell if he’s lying. “But right now, there’s a war going on.”

“Oh, how unlike you, Howl. Not running away anymore.”

Jaemin just shrugs, straightening up and making his way back to Renjun. He rests a hand atop his head, their faces only inches apart. Renjun waits with bated breath. He thinks Jaemin is going to kiss him, and his eyes flutter shut. There’s a brief press of lips to his forehead, and when he opens his eyes, Jaemin is smiling sadly at him.

“Stay here. Haechan will protect you from Sulliman’s henchmen.” He strokes Renjun’s cheek, his body already crackling as he shifts back into his bird form, bones snapping and rearranging inside him.

He starts to leave before Renjun can even say anything. “No, wait!” Renjun stops him at the stairs, flinging his arms around his waist and holding him from behind. “Don’t go out there, it’s too dangerous!”

“Another wave is coming,” Jaemin explains. “Haechan is too weak to stop the bombs. I have to go.”

Renjun shakes his head. “Let’s just leave. Don’t fight them anymore. Please, Jaemin.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaemin’s voice is warm, but his words make Renjun’s blood go cold. “I’ve had enough of running away, Renjun. Injunnie.

And besides. Now I’ve got something I want to protect.” He cups Renjun’s face, touching so tenderly despite the talons adorning his fingers. “It’s you.”

He disappears in a rush of feathers, leaving Renjun stunned at the top of the stairs. The door closes behind him, and Renjun doesn’t hesitate to run down and fling it open again, dashing out into the courtyard despite the danger. He looks up to see Jaemin disappearing into the sky, nothing more than a black dot against the red horizon. Groaning and squelching catch his attention — more of Sulliman’s henchmen.

Renjun presses his lips into a determined line, eyes hardening as he storms back inside the house, flinging the door shut behind him. There’s banging on the door, Sulliman’s henchmen trying their best to get in. Renjun stands with his hand on the lock and his eyes closed, formulating a plan. Another loud bang has his eyes opening and his breath hitching. He twists the dial for spinner just as the ground tremors with more explosions. The world goes silent around them, and when he opens the door again, they’re in the Wastes, looking over Market Chipping from the mountain ridge.

He squints to see the area where the shop is, and directly above it he can see Jaemin, destroying an enemy bomber as strange magical creatures fly around him. Renjun can’t see much, but he doesn’t even recognize Jaemin’s bird form anymore. It’s no longer majestic, but beastly.

“Jaem, look out,” Renjun whispers, but ultimately can do nothing as the aircraft hurtles to the ground and disappears in the smoke. There’s a distant boom, and Renjun doesn’t want to think about how much pain Jaemin is in right now.

“What’s going on?” Renjun turns around, and Jisung and Chenle are crowded in the doorway of their home, looking distraught. Jeno pokes his head between Jisung’s legs, tilting his head in concern.

Renjun makes up his mind. “Jisung, I need your help.” He dashes back inside, his boots kicking up soil as he tells Haechan his plan.

“Are you crazy?” Haechan says as he stacks another log from the pile Renjun gave him on top of his flames. “I can’t move the portals without Howl’s help.”

“You have to,” Renjun says, desperate and determined. “Please, just try. If we stay connected to the tailor shop, Jaemin will keep trying to protect it. We have to break away now.” He grabs his cloak and wraps it around the Witch’s shoulders, easing her out of the chair. Jeno follows behind, nosing at the Witch’s legs as if he’s worried she’ll fall. “I almost preferred him as a coward.”

“Where are we going?” The Witch mumbles, but Renjun ignores her.

“We can’t do that!” Haechan cries out. “It’ll make us vulnerable.”

“We already are.” Renjun stomps his foot. “And if we don’t move now, Jaemin doesn’t stand a chance.”

"Renjun!” Chenle stumbles in through the door. “They’re about to bomb the shop!”

He allows himself a half second to mourn. His father’s shop, everything he worked hard for, will be gone in an instant. But he can’t let Jaemin risk his life to protect it. “Quick, help her outside, okay?”

Chenle runs up the stairs and grabs the Witch’s arm, guiding her outside the castle. Renjun grabs the shovel they use to clean up the hearth, and carefully digs the tip underneath the pile of coals Haechan is sitting on.

“You’re coming with us. Hop on,” Renjun says.

“I can’t. It’s impossible. No one but Howl can take me out of this hearth. “

“There’s no time to lose, Haechannie.” Renjun begins scooping him up, ignoring his protests. He manages to get a good amount of wood on the shovel for Haechan to burn, and hopes that’ll be enough. “We have to try something.”

“No, no!” Haechan wails. “Help, help. Crazy witch with a shovel.” Renjun follows Chenle to the door, where Jisung and Jeno are waiting outside. “If you take me out that door, the castle could collapse.”

“Good!” Renjun yells back. They can always find another home, but they could never replace Jaemin. He doesn’t hesitate to bring Haechan through the door as soon as Jisung and Chenle have the Witch and Jeno far enough away.

It only takes a second, but the interior of the castle seems to melt away before the whole thing folds in on itself. Renjun doesn’t even have time to mourn the loss of yet another one of his homes, because it’s beginning to rain and Haechan is in danger.

“Chenle, Jeno. Help me find a way in. Jisung, look after her, okay?” He leaves the Witch with Jisung and runs around the wreckage until he founds the mouth shaped opening where he crashed his flying kayak. He calls Jisung inside, then returns Haechan to the hearth. There are holes everywhere, and water drips all over the interior from outside.

“Ugh, it’s all damp!” Haechan complains. “Oh, it’s leaky. Very leaky. Renjun, don’t let me get wet.”

Renjun runs over to the closest piece of furniture — a wooden bookcase, once filled with Jaemin’s trinkets — and pries apart the wood until he has a stack of pieces in his arms. He drops them in the hearth for Haechan as Jisung leads the Witch of the Waste back inside.

“The castle’s a wreck,” he says, eyes wide. It must hurt him, too, but he’s stronger than he looks, Renjun muses. He’s so proud of who Jisung has become. Chenle brings over a stool, luckily still intact, for the Witch to sit.

“I told you we should have stayed put,” Haechan complains loudly from the hearth. Jeno brings over a small splinter of wood in his mouth, gently dropping it on the pile and sitting back on his haunches. “Good boy, I guess.”

“We have to tell Jaem that we’re not connected to the hat shop anymore,” Renjun says. “Move the castle and take us to him.”

“What?” Haechan shouts, outraged. "I can’t do that!”

“I know you can,” Renjun says, giving Haechan his best smile. “I’ve never seen a fire with more spark.”

“B-but,” Haechan sputters. “But it’s wet. There’s no chimney, and-and the wood’s all damp and I keep getting dripped on.”

Renjun leans onto the hearth, his hands propping him up as he ignores the ash that clings to his skin. “They say that the best blaze brightest when circumstances are at their worst.”

“Yeah but no one really believes that,” Haechan replies with all his snark, rolling his eyes. Jisung helps the Witch over to the fire to get warm as Haechan finishes with, “come on, let’s be honest.”

“Ooh,” the Witch coos, staring adoringly at the flames. “What a pretty fire.”

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Jisung tries, directing her to the stool that Chenle had retrieved. Renjun looks over his shoulder to see Chenle placing buckets under the worst of the leaks, Jeno trotting at his heels.

“Alright.” Haechan heaves a great sigh, wiggling his little flame body over the logs. “I need something of yours, Renjun.”

Renjun blinks. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“I can’t do it by myself,” Haechan explains. “How about your eyes?”

“Huh?” Renjun stares, dumbfounded. “I’m not giving you my eyes!”

“Fine, fine. Turn around,” Haechan instructs. Renjun eyes him suspiciously, but turns around. He feels Haechan’s heat come close to him, but he’s unafraid. He knows Haechan wouldn’t burn him. There’s a small tug, and when Renjun turns around, Haechan is swallowing a long lock of dark hair, Renjun’s ribbon still wrapped around one end.

“Oh, my hair?” Renjun says, reaching for his head and feeling the ends of his hair. It’s been a long time since he’s cut it short.

“Whoa, Renjun. Your hair is grey now!” Jisung exclaims, but it’s hard to pay him mind.

“Will that work?” He asks the fire demon, unsure.

Haechan responds by turning black and shrinking. Renjun peers over with concern, his hand held close to his chest, until the fire demon grows in size and lets out a massive billow of smoke, roaring so high his flames reach the ceiling. Haechan pushes at the castle’s roof until it unfolds itself, restructuring enough that he can get them moving.

Jisung and Chenle shout when the floor breaks apart in certain spaces, running to Renjun’s side and clinging onto his arms. Jeno pushes in between Renjun’s legs even though he’s starting to get much too big for it, and Renjun holds onto his boys as tightly as he can when the castle starts moving — or, what was left of it anyway.

The castle scuttles down the mountain with its spider-like legs, and Renjun looks through one of the gaps in the floorboards to see that they’re getting closer to his hometown. “Oh, thank you Haechan!” He cries, unable to control the smile on his face. “You’re fantastic!”

“Imagine what I could have done with your eyes,” Haechan bellows. “Or your heart!”

“That’s it!” The old Witch exclaims, drawing Renjun’s attention. “You’ve got Howl’s heart!”

“Look, there’s Master Howl!” Jisung grabs Renjun’s arm, distracting him from the Witch. He points through the hole, and Renjun can see Jaemin flying in the sky, surrounded by a spiral of those flying creatures. There’s just so many, like a daunting, ominous cloud. Lightning strikes from the sky, and Jaemin’s shriek of pain rings true all the way to the Wastes.

“It looks like he’s trapped,” Chenle says softly.

“Oh, no. Haechan, please hurry!” Renjun begs, whirling around just in time to see the Witch grab the shovel that Haechan is still on, pulling him out from the hearth until he shrinks in size.

“Put him back!” Renjun screams, tripping over Jeno in his haste to reach the Witch. He grabs at her just as she picks up the demon from the shovel, cupping him in her hands. She doesn’t even seem to care about the fact that she’s burning. “Let him go! Stop!”

Haechan screams, and suddenly the castle begins collapsing all over again. Renjun tries to hold on, but he goes flying as they tumble down the ridges of the mountain. He slams into the wall and groans, struggling to get to his feet.

“It burns!” The Witch cries, and Renjun reaches into the flames to try to take Haechan away from her.

“You’re catching on fire!” He cries, a desperate attempt to persuade her into letting go. White hot pain flashes over his fingers, and he pulls back, his hands pink and shining. It’s a mild burn, like grabbing a hot pan out of the oven, but he’s never been hurt by Haechan before.

I could let her burn, he thinks. She’s hurt me, she’s hurt everyone. But then he thinks of Jisung and Chenle, and how they don’t deserve to witness that, and grabs one of Chenle’s bucket, dumping water onto the Witch before he can think it through.

He pants heavily, clinging to the metal bucket even though it hurts his wounded fingers. The Witch is covered in red burn marks and blisters, but she’s alive. In her hands is a small blue flame, almost liquid in state, but Renjun doesn’t get more than a second glance before the castle is crumbling again.

“Renjun!” The last thing Renjun hears is Jisung screaming his name, but the house splits in half, and Renjun is falling, falling, falling.

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

Renjun wakes up at the bottom of a gorge.

He pushes himself up, his arms nearly giving out on him. He’s not gravely injured, but as debris falls off of his back and legs, he realizes he’s going to be covered in bruises. His elbows are scraped up, though his clothing is still intact, charmed by Jaemin to never get torn or dirty. His knees are bleeding as well. But nothing can compare to the pain in his heart.

“Oh, what have I done?” He whispers to himself. Tears drip down his cheeks, and they taste of salt and ash. He hears snuffling behind him, and turns to see Jeno, luckily unharmed from the fall. The fluffy puppy wriggles his way into Renjun’s lap, licking at the tears hanging off his chin. Renjun rubs his head, unable to take comfort in the sweet gesture. “Jeno, I… I poured water on Haechan. What if—what if I killed Jaemin, too?” He buries his face in his hands, finally letting out the sobs he’s been keeping bottled up since he lost his tailor shop.

Woof! Renjun almost doesn’t hear Jeno at first, but then he feels a paw on his leg, tapping gently, then more desperately. Renjun stops crying, lifting his head to see the ring on his finger vibrating and pulsing a soft blue.

“It’s moving?” Renjun whispers to himself as Jeno wags his tail and barks. “Is Jaemin still alive? Can you take me to him?” He almost feels like an idiot, speaking to a ring but — Jaemin had said it was magic, hadn’t he?

It takes a moment, but the ring’s blue light brightens, then turns into a laser streak, a line leading all the way to the wall of the gorge, pointing directly at a large piece of metal that looks like it was once part of the castle roof.

Renjun climbs to his feet, following the light, and pushes the metal off with a great heave of his sore arms. “The front door?” He says to himself, glancing down at the ring as if for confirmation. It is definitely pointing at the door. He grabs the handle and pulls it open, only to be met with nothing but pitch black. A gust of wind comes from the swirling vortex of darkness, and when Renjun lifts his hand, the beam of light shines into the portal.

I have to go in, Renjun thinks, but he can’t deny that he’s afraid. He looks around, and startles when he sees a figure, only to realize it’s his reflection in half of a mirror from the castle. He hardly recognizes himself, and it takes him a moment to realize his hair is no longer black, but ash gray, almost silver in the moonlight. It’s also much shorter than he’s used to, much more of a “boyish” cut like his brother, Dejun’s. He had kept it long so he could hide behind it, but now he finds he doesn’t mind it short.

It’s not just the hair, Renjun realizes. It’s his clothes, too. They’re much flashier and more colorful than anything he would have ever worn back in Market Chipping, before he had met Jaemin. The kind of high fashion stuff his brothers would wear. He would have never had the confidence. But Jaemin… gave that to him. Jaemin made it so he didn’t think twice about what he wore — he always had other things to think about. But now, he likes the way he looks. He’s content with it, and more importantly, he’s comfortable.

“I have to do it,” he says resolutely, turning back to the door. “He’s already given me so much.”

When he pushes his hand inside, it disappears into the darkness. But he can’t be afraid, not right now. So with a deep breath, Renjun steps into the black and lets it consume him, holding the ring out to guide him through.

He walks in the shadows, taking one careful step at a time. He can’t see any floor beneath him, and it doesn’t seem solid under his boots, but he’s not falling, so it has to be enough. His ring just barely illuminates around him, but it doesn’t penetrate the thick black. Jeno is walking alongside him, and Renjun can only hope that he’s not leading the puppy to his death.

Renjun sees light up ahead, and when he hurries forward, he finds himself in a room. It’s so bare, just a table, a fireplace, and a single coat on a hook on the wall. Renjun peers at the table to find a pile of notes, a quill and ink set, and a book of spells. The handwriting looks familiar. It looks almost like Jaemin’s, but shakier. Less confident in the strokes.

He hears a scratching noise, but when he turns around, heart in his throat, it’s just Jeno, clawing at the door and bumping his nose into the wood.

“Jeno?” Renjun walks over, pushing the door open and stepping outside. It takes him a moment to place where he is, as he’s only ever seen it during the day, but he’s in Jaemin’s secret hiding spot — the meadows of flowers just as beautiful at night. So this was Jaemin’s adorable little cottage which he used as a study.

He looks up at the sky to see streaks of light soaring through the air in a downwards trajectory, reaching the horizon and then dissipating with a twinkling sound. More and more follow, like a meteor shower.

Renjun follows one until it reaches the ground, illuminating a boy walking along the meadows. He’s much younger here, and his hair is dark unlike when they first met, but Renjun recognizes him instantly.

“That’s Jaemin!” He cries softly. He thinks back to when they were surrounded by Sulliman’s spell, and realizes what he’s seeing. What the lights are, falling out of the sky. He breaks into a run, but his boots sink oddly into the grass, like there’s thick layers of mud beneath them. “I know where I am. I’m in Jaemin’s childhood!”

More stars fall, skipping across the water and dissolving into nothing. Renjun stops to watch, but the ground swallows up his legs, keeping him in place before he can reach Jaemin. He can only watch as one particularly bright star falls out of the sky and into Jaemin’s cupped hands. He can’t do anything as Jaemin brings the star to his mouth and swallows it. He stares as Jaemin gags, buckling over, but when he pulls his hands away, a familiar fire is seated in his palms.

I understand now. Renjun tries to move once more, but the ground opens up beneath him, and he starts to fall. The world distorts around him, and there’s nothing he can do but yell.

“Jaemin! Haechan!” Renjun screams, and the young Jaemin turns to him, eyes wide in surprise. “It’s me! Renjun! I know how to help you now. Find me in the future!”

The meadow disappears, and Renjun finds himself falling through the sky. Clouds swirl around him, and he can see the sun kissing the horizon in the distance, but he can’t tell if it’s setting or rising. He floats gently, flipping over until his boots touch something solid. Jeno is in front of him, guiding the way back. He keeps glancing behind him, huffing ever so often as if to say hurry up!

“I’m sorry, Jen,” Renjun says, wiping at his eyes as he runs. “I’m trying to hurry. I just can’t seem to stop crying.”

There you are, sweetheart. Sorry I’m late. I was looking all over for you. How long had Jaemin searched for him? And this whole time, he was suffering from his curse, waiting for Renjun to figure out how to help him.

They make it back to the front door, and when they step out, Renjun finds himself back in the gorge like nothing had ever happened. Half the castle still sits all over the ground, completely wrecked, but Renjun only has eyes for the hulking mass of feathers before him. Jaemin’s breathing is heavy and ragged, just like a dream he had once upon a time, but Renjun isn’t afraid. He walks up to Jaemin in careful, deliberate steps, pushing aside the feathers until he finds Jaemin’s face. Blood drips from his forehead, and his eyes are empty, staring straight ahead, but he’s still beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” Renjun tells him as sincerely as possible. “Did I come too late? I didn’t mean to make you wait this long.” He’s not just talking about now. Renjun leans up on his toes, one hand cupping Jaemin’s face. His cheek is soft under Renjun’s fingers, and though he looks terrifying, Renjun has never been so glad to see him.

Renjun kisses him gently, so in love, and says, “I need you to take me to Haechan, please.” Jaemin is unresponsive for a moment, but when Renjun holds on, Jaemin sweeps him and Jeno onto his singular, massive clawed foot. He flies up into the air, out of the gorge and across a mountain ridge. They find what’s left of the other half of the castle walking along on two spindly legs. It’s barely more than a square of floorboards, but Chenle and Jisung are sitting cross-legged, safe and sound.

He breathes a sigh of relief as Jaemin takes them down, his feathers dissolving until he’s laid out on the floor, face down. Renjun rushes over, gently rolling him onto his back and pushing his hair out of his eyes. He’s worried, but he tries not to show it as Jisung runs up to his side.

“He’s dead?” Jisung asks, and Renjun shakes his head.

“No, Jisung.” He straightens up and walks over to the Witch of the Waste who still has the blue flame clutched to her body. “Howl needs that back now.”

“Don’t look at me, I don’t have it. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please,” Renjun begs, dropping to his knees. “Please give it back.”

“You really want it that badly?” She asks.

“Yes.” Renjun has never been so sure of anything in his life.

“All right then. You better take good care of it.” The Witch cups the little blue flame and drops it into Renjun’s hands.

“Thank you,” Renjun says sincerely. “You have a big heart.”

He stands back up and walks over to Jaemin who hasn’t moved. Jisung is still kneeling diligently at his side, watching Renjun curiously.

“Haechannie,” Renjun calls softly to the fire demon, sighing in relief when his little eyes pop up.

“Renjun,” Haechan whines. “I’m so tired.”

“If I give Jaemin back his heart, what will happen to you?” Will you disappear?

“I’ll be okay if you do it, I think,” Haechan muses. “I mean, you dumped water on me and Howl and I both survived, right?”

“I better try then,” Renjun says. He closes his eyes and lets the heat of Jaemin’s heart encapsulate him, a steady pulse vibrating through his hands, matching his own heartbeat. “It’s so warm. And fluttering like a bird.”

“It’s still just the heart of a child,” Haechan tells him.

Please, Renjun thinks. Please, help Haechan live. And please help Jaemin take back his heart. He kneels over Jaemin and carefully places the flame on his chest, slightly to the left.

The flame disappears, absorbed into Jaemin’s body, and a star pulls out of his chest, flying into the sky. Even though he looks different, Renjun knows it’s Haechan.

“I’m alive! I’m alive!” The star repeats over and over, flying up into the sky. Renjun watches him go, but a soft groan catches his attention, and he looks down to find Jaemin stirring, his brows furrowed in a grimace.

“He moved!” Jisung exclaims, and Jeno barks excitedly from his spot on Chenle’s lap.

Jaemin’s lashes flutter, and another whine falls from his lips. Renjun gasps when his eyes open, blinking rapidly before finally focusing on Renjun’s face.

“What’s going on? What am I doing here?” He tries to sit up, but grimaces in pain. “I feel terrible! Like there’s a weight on my chest.”

Renjun laughs in relief. “A heart’s a heavy burden.”

The smile that grows on Jaemin’s face is nothing short of brilliant. “Wow! Renjun, your hair looks just like starlight. It’s beautiful.”

“You think so?” Renjun beams. “So do I!”

He tackles Jaemin into a hug, and doesn’t hesitate to bring their lips together for a kiss that’s been long since overdue. Jaemin immediately kisses him back, his arms settling around Renjun’s waist easily.

Woof! Renjun laughs when Jeno noses into his side, letting go of Jaemin to scratch him behind the ears.

“Thank you for guiding me home, Jeno,” he says, pressing a kiss to Jeno’s snout. He’s startled by a flash of white, and there’s no longer a fluffy, oversized puppy before him but a handsome young man.

“Hi,” he says, eyes curving into crescents. His dark hair flops over his forehead, similar to Jeno’s furry ears. “I’m Jeno, I’m the prince from the neighboring kingdom. I ran away, and Madame Sulliman turned me into a dog.”

“I know that spell!” The Witch of the Waste says. “Only a kiss from your true love can break it.”

“Yes.” Jeno’s cheeks turn red. “But, it’s not like that. It can be platonic too. I just… I guess I just wanted to know what it was like.”

“What?” Renjun can’t help but ask.

“To be with a family who loves me,” Jeno says quietly, and it makes sense now. The reason he left home is clear.

“Well,” Jaemin says, his arm still wrapped comfortably around Renjun’s waist. “Once we rebuild, we’ll have plenty of room for you. It seems like our family just keeps getting bigger.” With this, he eyes Jisung, who’s smiling innocently while pressed to Chenle’s side. “What’s one more?”

“Make space for me too!”

Renjun looks up to see Haechan descending from the sky, no longer falling but travelling purposefully. He cups his hands and lets Haechan settle on his palms.

“Oh, Haechan! You didn’t have to come back,” Renjun says, but he’s delighted. He can’t imagine what life would have been like without the snarky little fire demon living in their hearth.

“I kind of missed you guys,” Haechan says, shifting back into his fire form. “Besides, it looks like it’s gonna rain.”

Renjun smiles. “I missed you too.”

Now their family is complete.

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

Rebuilding doesn’t take long.

Jaemin still has his magic, though it isn’t as powerful now that he’s separated from Haechan. The castle is built bigger and better than ever, only instead of wandering the Wastes, it flies in the sky, mechanical wings bringing them to soaring heights.

On the balcony, Jisung, Chenle, and Jeno sit at a round table, playing a game of cards. The Witch of the Waste sits on her rocking chair, knitting a scarf.

And leaning against the railing, their hands intertwined, are Renjun and Jaemin, the wind whipping at their clothes as they watch the land of Ingary pass down below them. Matching rings sit on their fingers, gleaming in the sunlight.

“It’s so beautiful, it’s almost magic,” Renjun says with a laugh. It dies in his throat when he sees the way Jaemin is looking at him — like he’s the center of Jaemin’s universe.

“You know, Renjun,” Jaemin says, smiling wide. “I think you might be the most magical of us all.”