Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I swear to god” Namjoon swore to himself, quietly, as he pulled on his sword’s blade and it literally came off from its handle. Not that it mattered too much, given the fact that half of said blade laid on the floor, shattered to pieces “I can’t fucking…” he breathes in to calm himself “I can’t believe I paid that much for this crap”

“You know it isn’t the blade’s fault, kid. No blade is going to resist a boonie’s strength”

The town Namjoon was in had the most ridiculous names for monsters that Namjoon had ever heard in his life, and he had to make a conscious effort not to pull a face on every villager who talked to him. The thick accent only made it more ridiculous.

He only huffed, swallowing his frustration. At least people there talked to him: it was a far away enough village that nobody had heard of Najun yet, the guy who was quite literally destroying the kingdom’s economy and burning down whole cities in tantrums for strawberry milk with his cakes or something. Namjoon guessed he didn’t burn hamlets half-lost on the mountain's side, so people there didn’t know his face. 'All the better', he thought, 'a moment of respite'.

“It was supposed to last more than one blow. The guy who sold it to me said the steel had been magically reinforced”

“Bullshit, kid. City merchants are always full of shit, your parents should’ve taught you that much” she eyed him over her pipe “you got parents, right?”

Namjoon didn’t answer, too busy assessing the weapon situation.

‘Awfully uneducated’ is what his currently living parents would have thought of Vilma, the town’s bladesmith looking at him over the smoke of her pipe, had they met her. She was a very old and somewhat decrepit-looking woman who, despite her appearance, could probably lift Namjoon and his horse - had Namjoon had one - in one hand. She was somewhat blunt and judgemental, but also honest and good-hearted, adjectives that described most townsfolk in Erian. Namjoon hadn’t requested her services, though, he’d just finished fighting the giant mountain spider the townfolk called a fucking ‘boonie’ and the rest of the world a respectable ‘lion spider’ (because it roared like a lion) and was now left standing on the town’s common plaza, staring at the remains of his brand new sword, soaked in guts and deeply annoyed at the waste of money. He’d had to stab one of the creature’s eyes with the stub and then make do with the somewhat solid scabbard as the poison in the blade did its thing. Not that he even had the stub of the sword now, which lay limp on the floor. Or the scabbard, currently in the creature’s stomach.

Vilma had arrived as the fight ended, staring down at the pieces of the sword and shaking her head in disapproval, the pipe hanging from her lips. 

“So” they had been looking at the pieces for a few minutes when she spoke, lifting her head to face him “need a new one?”

Namjoon made a face. A town-made sword? It’d crack from holding it high in the air.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll make do until I find my own. I’ve actually lost it”

“Ahh, you lost your blade? A fighter’s nightmare” she nodded understandingly, lips pursed in distaste “good luck then, kid. Better find it before a nighty catches you pissing”

What on earth was a nighty, only Vilma knew. And the rest of the town, probably. Ridiculous folk. He shook his head and smiled, dropping the empty handle of his once-sword. He eyed the monster, considering taking one of its legs as a weapon. He’d need something to saw it off, though, and he didn’t have a lot of time if he wanted to make it to the next town by nightfall. He sighed.

“Thank you, Vilma. Peace be with you”

“And with you, kid”

Namjoon headed off then, walking slowly towards the road out of town, trying to walk fast enough to avoid running into a nightwalker before reaching the next town. Maybe that’s what Vilma meant with a nighty, he mused as the grovel crunched beneath his feet. No reason to get all fancy with it adding a second word to it for context’s sake, huh?

If he ran into an early riser, he’d only have his bag filled with hard bread and a thin blanket to fend himself with, but he figured he could always climb a tree. Nightwalkers, as their name predicted, could only walk. Not that Missy’s town knew that.

“Missy” he mumbled dimly, breathing in the late afternoon’s chilly air as he entered the woods surrounding the hamlet “I wonder which blue-blooded bastard’s daughter named this town Missy ”

It was doomed before it was even given a chance.

The air only turned colder as the evening drew nearer, and Namjoon got into the next town just in time before the doors closed, closely followed by a black cat. 

The black cat was a peculiar one. It had joined him only a few miles away from the town, sticking nearby and stopping whenever he stopped, too, playing at nonchalance and washing itself as if he’d planned to stop then all along. Namjoon wasn’t one to get paranoid over animals, but witches had been extra enthusiastic about their familiars ever since mothers started forbidding their children from venturing into the woods, forcing witches to come up with new tactics or find new ways to feed themselves. Namjoon had never quite understood why they preferred children over adults, since the species was the same and adults were larger in size. Not that he had stopped to question it in detail, but he was somewhat sure that witches could have a much more varied diet than they currently did.

Why they took a taste for children was beyond him.

Either way, they’d been casting more and more familiars lately, and putting more care into training them, since they were usually the ones to trick people to fall into their traps, so Namjoon was somewhat weary of the cat.

After entering the town, though, the cat disappeared from his sight for long enough for Namjoon to worry about other stuff, namely food, a place to stay and a blacksmith’s workshop. As he’d done in Missy, he put one foot in the place and immediately knew they had nothing that would work for him, and so he was stuck for half an hour diverting the blacksmith’s conversation in an attempt to leave the place, despite the man’s overly cheerfulness and variety of conversational topics which managed to present very controversial and bigoted opinions on things he should not be telling a complete stranger.

He was musing on how to respond to the man’s ideas on how Erian’s fishermen were actually trying to poison them all because they made a truce with a neighboring kingdom when he saw the cat again, leaving the workshop, about ten minutes into Namjoon’s plotting to leave the conversation. He frowned, but didn’t think about it too much, suddenly busy rejecting the blacksmith's offer for a drink.

When he managed to slip out, he went straight into the town’s tavern and took a room for the night, right before sitting down to have a plate of food and a bottle of soju. Just when he was climbing the stairs and heading to his room, he saw the same black cat jumping out of a windowsill in the corridor. They were on a second floor, but he guessed cats had their ways. He frowned again, vaguely distracted.

He left the tavern in the morning, and spent the day shopping for necessities. It was afternoon already when he was walking out of the market street, a proud owner of a head scarf, some bread and cheese for the road, a goatskin to store water in, were he to run into the need, and a polished wooden stick with a metal core that would serve as both a staff and as good enough weapon (to survive the experience, at least), which was free since he took it from a dump near a house that had burned to the bone - it had happened recently enough that the wood was still in good state, having avoided most of the fire.

Namjoon was not paying for another weapon to have it disintegrate upon touching a monster’s skin. Most towns didn’t sell monster-worthy weapons anyway, but Namjoon was at least hoping for one of those reinforced weapons that, despite not being the real deal, had some spells that at least allowed them to handle a blow or two. He knew he was asking too much from a town’s bladesmith, but he was honestly growing nuts walking around empty handed; he felt naked to the world. A fake weapon at least gave him some false sense of security, but he'd had no such luck. 

Either way, if it was very rare for towns to have reinforced weapons; he’d had some hope because usuallly towns up the by the mountains had better defenses: creatures such as the lion spiders or nightwalkers were fairly common, and very rarely did mercenaries or noble heroes venture this up north to fight them off. No glory up in the mountains, no one to applaud them and, for mercenaries, not much money. Often, townfolk learned to fend for themselves, and they built walls and blacksmith stores, as well as sensible habits. 

Namjoon appreciated the good sense and security, but he did miss the money. As a mercenary, he was used to the gold surrounding the big cities, near portuary towns or generally in places where the grass was green and not a nimble gray.

He’d gone up north, however, on a futile mission: to recover his weapon. His huge ass, silver Dao Sword with a real fancy hilt and scabbard: both bronze with pretty green and blue stones and engravings of old runes, its ancient magic turning a simple weapon to a Regal Weapon. Namjoon remembered the weight of it strapped on his back, the certainty of sleeping next to it at night, the feeling of being safe and somebody, or something. He had a world of possibilities, back then. Now he was sad and lonely, and bitter, and defenseless. He walked around the continent picking up tree branches to hit flame worms with and charge locals just enough to survive. After all, without a weapon, in their eyes he was nothing but a broke enthusiast. 

The reason why there weren’t many mercenaries or heroes around had to do with that exact problem, actually: weapon accessibility. It was considered a noble activity, to fight off monsters, something the once-called-knights would do for recognition. Nowadays, some nobles still did it, chasing after the title of hero and prestige in court, and some other bourgeois young people did it too, chasing after money. The difference was not only what they seeked but their adherence to it, since those who called it their jobs did it around the year, and those who called it their passion only did it whenever they felt like it, probably after getting too bored staring at the flowers in their garden and thinking about their gardner’s daughter naked on top of them.

Namjoon wasn’t a noble, but his family had been well off; enough for him to learn the ways of sword fighting. It wasn’t very well encouraged, and people often looked down on the profession unless you didn’t charge and had blue blood running through your veins, which meant that Namjoon had been almost disinherited after hitting the road, but now his parents tolerated him. He was the reason they survived the recession right after Najun’s coronation, after all.

Both mercenaries and heroes were rare because it was a necessity to have access to certain commodities in order to learn the ways. Not only the teaching of the combat arts against monsters was restricted, but the weapons were almost unattainable unless you had connections. Only very specially made things could serve against monsters, be it magically reinforced and/or cursed objects, things old enough to have developed its own personality, or just things laced with rare enough materials to work as a weapon. Those were the so-called ‘Regal Weapons’. Namjoon had been lucky enough to find an old ass sword in a secret room of his house back then, and had found out some of his ancestors had dedicated themselves to killing monsters. He started studying the art and learned how restricted it was, and yet how needed it was to keep the empire’s people safe, and so he decided to advocate his life to it.

He charged, though, because it wasn’t a hobby. It was his job, and his family did not support him enough to pay for his expenses, and then after Najun rose to the throne he didn’t really have any choice because his parents couldn’t pay for him. Namjoon rose to enough success that he was the one sending them money, back then.

Even now that he didn’t have a weapon or money, his parents couldn’t really help him.

That wasn’t the worst part about Najun rising to the throne and ruining Erian’s economy, gaining the empire’s hate in the meantime. Not at all.

“Hey! Hey, you! You fucking bastard, stop!”

People turned to look at him, the baker down the street staring at him with wild eyes as he pointed at his face.

“I saw him in Peltra last weekend, that’s him! You bastard, are you playing hero again?” his face contorted in disgust, and Namjoon kept walking faster, trying to ignore him and get to the town’s doors before everyone else caught on.

Someone else’s face flashed with recognition.

“Najun! You bastard, fucking piece of shit! I saw him too, surrounded by men, barely touching the longrat as everyone fought for him!”

“Piece of shit, abdicate already!”

“We’ll make you fucking abdicate, you whoreson -”

Namjoon broke into a run as everyone started cornering him, running to catch him from various directions.

Because through god’s all reaching wisdom, apparently Namjoon had the same fucking face as Najun, and no convincing way to explain it was just a fucking coincidence.

Somebody threw him a rock, and chaos unleashed. Everyone started attacking him and Namjoon tried to get rid of them as he made his way out, but the townsfolk were closing the doors as they grabbed at him. Somebody grabbed him from the back of his shirt and dragged him, and then a punch landed on his jaw, courtesy of a very angry lady. Namjoon pulled and pushed and released himself in time to dodge another punch, and before anyone else could have a try at him, he sprinted towards the doors, swinging his staff around to push off the people who tried to tackle him. 

He should’ve been more careful, but he had thought he was still too far away from the cities to be in danger. He had completely forgotten about Peltra, only a few miles down east from where they were, and could only curse his bad luck that his döppleganger had stopped there recently.

Arriving at the gates, he raised his staff with the intention of fending off the soldiers guarding the doors when he heard a hiss and suddenly the youngest guy, the one furthest from Namjoon, had a black cat on his face, hissing and attacking him viciously. The guy screamed and distracted the others enough for Namjoon to breeze past them with only a few swings of his staff, jumping and barely making it before the doors closed. He panted and looked back at the chaos through the crack of it, a flash of a black-shaped thing jumping from one face to the other and arising screams in the darkening sky. 

Namjoon turned around, secured his bag on his back (luckily the guy who’d grabbed him hadn’t ripped the material) and, staff in hand, ran into the woods until he was far enough to be sure he wouldn’t be found by the folk anymore. He stopped against a tree, panting, and sat down to rest. He would have to sleep on a tree that night, the security of his tavern long lost, but he wasn’t as upset about it as he thought he would be. He figured he was getting used to it, now.

He thought about the cat. It was most definitely behaving very peculiarly for a cat, but Namjoon could not figure out why a witch would want to protect him. Unless the witch thought he was, in fact, Najun, and had something planned out for him? He sighed and rubbed his face. He couldn’t be sure.

He guessed he’d face the problem when he ran into it. A witch was far from dangerous considering all the things Namjoon had faced in his life; he could probably wipe them off in a blink. He had faith in himself, despite the lack of weaponry.

He’d throw the cat at her, or something. If she thought he was Najun, she’d surely underestimate him, because the townsfolk weren’t wrong: Najun, who was out of his mind, liked to play the hero but, since he was mostly useless, he’d usually have his soldiers fight for him, bring the creature to its knees, and only give the final blow, turning around to receive the applause of terrified people surrounded by Najun’s armed-to-the-teeth soldiers. Also, he’d only do it three or four times a season, which meant he was a complete and utter amateur. And yet, he boasted a collection of twelve weapons, the piece of shit bastard, eight of them laid out to be seen on the walls of the throne room.

Namjoon had heard Najun had been more active about it lately, though, even if he was doing even less physical effort than he used to. Last he heard, he touched a flame worm with his enchanted blade from his horse. A flame worm was the size of a fist, usually, and despite being fast as an arrow, once immobilized it was literally defenseless. Killing a wounded flame worm was almost like killing a normal worm, and it was even ungraceful.

Not that Najun paid mind to any critiques. He’d been one to bring monsters into the empire so he could slay them, only to then immediately cower and decide he didn’t want to. Too proud a kid, though, he prohibited any other heroes from doing the killing, and so the monsters (big ass, difficult to kill creatures such as dragons and krakens) remained, and imposed fear, death and illness in Erian’s people’s households.

Everyone agreed that Najun should be killed, Namjoon included. However, this was not a very hopeful thought when everyone thought Namjoon himself was Najun wherever he went. Even his name was similar. It was something Najun could’ve perfectly come up with, given his two points in creativity, and even Namjoon himself had to admit it’d be hard to believe:

“Ah, no, I’m not Najun. I’m Namjoon”

“Ah, Namjun? So you’re just adding a word?”

“Ah, no, I mean. It’s double o instead of u”

“Ah, well. That changes everything”

Namjoon cracked his neck and closed his eyes, breathing in the night air. Nothing he could do about it now, though. If he got his weapon, people would recognize him again.

Mercenaries, unlike heroes, bonded with their weapons. That meant that the magic from these weapons seeped into the mercenary, and they became one. A mercenary was recognized immediately by name (given he was known, although most mercenaries were: there weren’t many to begin with) as long as he had his weapon with him. It was sort of like two halves of a whole, and a mercenary without his weapon was a nobody. Helpless, human.

They needed their weapon to be themselves as much as they needed them to strike.

So, Namjoon without his weapon was just a Najun lookalike.

Namjoon made sure to find a big enough tree to climb for the night, and he snuggled against the trunk, blanket around his shoulders. He could already hear the whinings from the nightwalkers, the poor souls of people who’d never found peace, not even in death, and also people who’d never been buried properly.

At least there were worse fates than his. Plus, Namjoon wasn’t disheartened; he’d only had his weapon for a year and a half before losing it, so he hadn’t bonded with it too tightly so as to not be able to rebond with a new one. And he’d only been weaponless for almost seven months.

He could manage to get another one. He had all the practical knowledge a highborn had, and all the skills a mercenary had, which was more than most could say. He had faith he could sneak around and get himself another weapon. Or his own, if he was super lucky.

He lulled himself to sleep thinking that the first thing he’d do with it would be killing Najun.

“I know you can hear me. Wake up”

Namjoon opened his eyes. Two yellow eyes looked back at him.

“I fucking knew it. You smelled different”

Namjoon blinked. The cat was talking to him. “...Cat?”

The cat tilted its head to the side.

“I’m fucking meowing right now, dude, but I know you understand me. Don’t play dumb. You smell like you’ve got magic going on”

“What?” Namjoon finally got blood to reach his brain and sat up, heart beating frantically, and the cat cursed as it was forced to move from Namjoon’s chest to a branch near him. It stared right at him from the branch, and sighed.

The cat sighed.

A single thought crowded Namjoon’s mind, and he looked around wildly in search of his staff, which sadly lay on the top branches just above his reach. He cursed and turned to the cat.

“Who’s your witch? What does she want?”

The cat tilted its head again.

“What? I’m not a familiar” It had a deep voice, which given how small and skinny it was, was a little unsettling.

“Yeah sure” Namjoon huffed “Like normal cats just randomly speak . Just tell me what you want” and then, as an afterthought, with his best brat voice: “Najun demands you to do so”

Namjoon swore that if the cat could’ve, it would’ve rolled his eyes.

“I know you aren’t Najun”

Namjoon blinked, and frowned. Then why…?

“I’m not the one who’s speaking human words, you fucking twit. You’re the one who can understand me. I already said that a minute ago. You are… You’ve got this thing-”

“What?”

“Let me finish. You’ve got this thing going on, where you can understand and talk to animals and other non-humans, including holy objects (or, you know, special objects) and, if I’m right, even turn them into humans as long as they’re near you”

Namjoon blinked again, and he felt a huff of laughter jumping up his throat.

“Why- how the fuck would I be able to do that… Cat?”

The cat blinked. “You’re Namjoon” it was a statement, but since the cat paused for a second, Namjoon nodded, still startled “Good. Then you were the owner of Yeodeolb, right?”

“...That’s the name of my weapon, yes. But I’ve lost it now, if you hadn’t noticed”

“Yeah, that’s the whole point. When you start bonding with Yeodeolb and leave it half way through, the process doesn’t just abort. The magic from the weapon lingers and finds another way to present itself. Since it was the magic that made the bond, it’s the kind that turned the life within the sword into energy, and now that remaining magic turns the life of things that aren’t human into energy that matches yours, as it would your sword. So it turns everything into humans. It’s magic that’ll linger for about a year, or so, and then disappear, don’t worry. But right now, we could use each other”

“You just” Namjoon closed his eyes and rubbed them “Shut the fuck up for a minute. You just dumped a lot on me very quickly. I know you’re a cat, but I just woke the fuck up”

“My name is Suga”

“Congratulations”

“I’m not a familiar”

“Sure. You just introduced yourself with a nickname, though, but sure you’re not”

Suga tilted its head as Namjoon kept rubbing his face and sighing.

“...My name is Yoongi”

Namjoon raised his head and looked the cat in the eye, tired but determined. Familiars couldn’t speak their name. Most animals went by nicknames, because witches could bind them if they found out their name. Once bound, the animal could not, physically, speak their name. If someone who wasn’t their witch said their name, the witch would be summoned, for one, and a fight for control would unleash: on the one hand, the witch, on the other hand, the other person who called the name and, in the third place, the own cat who would try to free itself.

Now, if it was the right name but the cat wasn’t leashed to a witch, the power to leash them would be handed to whomever said its name out loud, or at least the power to fight for it. Fight against the cat’s will, of course.

Lastly, if the name given was fake, nothing would happen at all.

Namjoon looked Suga in the eye before speaking.

“Yoongi”

The cat shuddered, and a wave of energy touched the edges of Namjoon’s mind. It was the cat’s name. And, through what Namjoon had felt, no witch was attached to it.

Namjoon blinked.

And blinked again.

“It’s your real name”

“No shit”

“Why did you tell me your real name?”

“Why, you wanna enslave me?”

“No”

“I figured”

“ You figured? ”

“But you saw I had no witch”

“How the fuck can I understand you, then? Am I the witch?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Like you’d just wake up a witch”

“Evidently, weirder things have happened. Like talking cats”

“Listen, Namjoon, I already told you why you can…”

“Really? Yeodeolb? But wouldn’t I have heard more shit by now? Like this tree, and stuff”

“The tree isn’t conscious of itself. Only smart animals and objects”

“Okay”

“And only if you’re touching them”

“I’m not touching you now”

“You were a few minutes ago”

“But not now”

“Once activated, you can’t undo it”

“ What? ”

“I need you to turn me into a human for a while. I’ll help you on the road, I can fight. I’ve already helped you before. Besides, we’re both heading the same way”

“Suga; one, I have no idea how to do that. Two, you have to give me more explanation than that, c’mon, my head is spinning right now”

The cat sighed, and turned around to jump down the tree. Namjoon shuffled around to look at it, confused.

“Well, let’s get going then” the cat called from below “I’ll answer your questions on the road. At nightfall, if you feel like accepting the deal, you turn me into a human”

Namjoon blinked at the cat twice before sighing and rubbing his face, turning to gather his things.

“Why do you want to be a human?”

“I can’t do things and get places as a cat, not all things or all places. It’s personal, but I need to get through a mission”

“Being a human isn’t a lot more fun”

“I know, I assure you if I could I’d never turn into one of you”

“Okay. So I turn you into a human and that’s it? You go your way, I go mine?”

“You’re looking for Yeodeolb, right? Or another weapon”

“Sure”

“I’m looking for something, too. We’ll walk the same path, and I’ll pay you back by protecting you. I’m good at fighting”

“...Will you be, as a human?”

“Better, even”

“...Okay. How do I know that you won’t just disappear one night?”

“The spell would be undone if I went longer than three hours without being by your side”

“Romantic”

“Not at all”

“Okay. How do I know you’re good at fighting?”

“I literally saved your life back there”

“Okay. Where do you want to go? Which path is it that you talked about?” Namjoon already had one planned out.

“Cities. I need to find a valuable object. So wherever you deem like a likely place”

“Good” Good, Namjoon was leading. That gave him some certainty “You know, I need some proof that you won’t just turn against me and kill me in the middle of the night, or lead me to a trap or something. You’re telling me a lot of shit, how do I know I’m not being lied to?”

Suga didn’t answer immediately, and then he sighed. He, because Namjoon had gathered it was a male cat through the deep voice and general vibe.

“Okay. But I’m not becoming your familiar”

“Wouldn’t want you to”

“Good. Carve my name into your skin. If you do that, I cannot physically ever hurt you”

Namjoon raised his eyebrows, turning around to look at Suga. “Excuse me?”

“It’s the only way” Suga kept walking nonchalantly, paying no mind to Namjoon’s distress “If knowing my name isn’t enough, which I can understand can be a little tricky, carving it will assure you safety”

“Don’t I like, own you or something if I do?”

“Nah, you need more complicated voodoo for that. Magic shit”

“I don’t want to carve your name into my skin”

“Write it small”

“Yoongi. Are you telling the truth?”

Yoongi shuddered. Calling his name forced him to speak truthfully. It wasn’t good enough on a cat, who changed its mind daily, but it was good enough for this.

“Yes”

Namjoon looked at him for a few minutes, and then sighed.

“Why do you trust me so much to give me your name, anyway?”

“...You’re Namjoon”

“And? You don’t know me”

“I know Yeodeolb, and I know the kind of people it chooses”

“...Alright” Namjoon wasn’t about to question a cat’s knowledge on weapon’s personalities. Honestly, he didn’t quite feel like knowing more about Suga, because every question answered aroused twenty more and he was feeling a little tired already. Too much for one day. For half a day, actually, he thought as he looked up at the midday sun.

There was a minute of silence, leaves crunching under Namjoon’s feet as they walked, before a question itched him too much not to be asked.

“Also, how the hell did you know my name?”

“I did my research. A mercenary’s name is public knowledge, Namjoon”

“...Nobody seemes to fucking remember me now, I’ll tell you that much”

“You know what’s funny? Even your names sound similar. I might be a black cat, but your luck is so bad it can only get better with me by your side”

“You have no idea”

Chapter Text

Apparently, Namjoon had to touch noses with the cat and, while focusing on imagining Suga as a human, blink twice for the transformation to happen, which was extremely random to him. He barely had time to think about it, though, before he found himself staring into two very human small eyes that blinked back at him with the same surprise he felt, like he hadn’t fully expected it to work.

“Why are you surprised too?”

“I don’t know. I feel weird” he was speaking normally, at least. Namjoon guessed that was the magic’s doing. Suga looked down, assessing his body.

Namjoon stared at him. It wasn’t fully dark yet, and the last rays of the evening’s sun served to reveal Suga’s new human appearance. Black long-ish hair, pale skin, cute as hell round face and a very feline air to him, in the corner of his eyes and his mouth. Small and short, skinny and the palest human Namjoon had seen, all of which contrasted against his fierce vibe: he looked like an aristocrat’s child who’d been raised by… Well, cats. He was also in desperate need of clothes, which Namjoon was quick to provide him, and that he then had to help him put on.

Turns out, he had to help Suga learn everything .

How to walk, how to eat, how to move around. He was very quick at learning, though, to the point where one week later, when they ran into a nightwalker in the dim light of the early dusk, Suga obliterated it in a second with Namjoon’s staff (which he almost broke, thank you very much. Namjoon had to lecture him on the value of things and what money and the lack of money meant. ‘I could’ve done the same thing, but if I did that every time I ran into a small monster I wouldn’t have any staff left by the third one, would I?’ ‘I can make you another staff’ ‘No, you can’t. Do you know how to reshape metal?’ ‘...’).

Also, he’d learnt he wasn’t fully human, even now. If the need arose, his body could produce fangs and claws, and he was much more agile and flexible than any human was entitled to be. He was still, essentially, a cat, but in human clothes.

Mogar was the third largest city of Erian, and it took them a week to get there. Namjoon had plans of contacting some of his old folk’s friends there, get them to take them in as guests. He’d convinced Suga that turning back into a cat would be most useful, and the cat had agreed quite easily. Truthfully, Namjoon didn’t quite understand yet why Suga would ever need to be a human in order to get things - a cat was much more sneaky and unassuming. It was clear Suga didn’t want to share further information, though, and Namjoon didn’t ask - Suga had, surprisingly, turned out to be quite an excellent fighter as a human, and had gotten rid of at least five monsters on their way there. Might be a cat, but he seemed to be an honest one, fulfilling his part of the deal.

Honest enough that Namjoon didn’t carve his name into his skin. Like he was ever going to. God.

Despite his plans, Namjoon discovered upon arrival that his family’s friends were no longer living in Mogar, because Erian’s kraken (courtesy of Najun) had moved down the river to calmer waters - that is, right down Mogar’s shore. It was a somewhat peaceful kraken, thankfully, unlike the dragon up the west end of the empire, but it was still somewhat intimidating. It had also forced most of the shore’s activities to move a little to the south, which limited not only the amount of fishing spots but the actual fish, given that they all got to be tasted by the kraken first. Also, the kraken in itself made the ecosystem change: less diversity, muddier waters, undrinkable in most places - probably all the reasons that led that blacksmith in the town up north to claim that fishermen had struck a deal with another empire and were trying to poison them.

Once upon a time, Mogar flourished because of its location up where the river started to widen, with the freshest water and best fish, great views and flourishing commerce. Now, the whole city seemed to be holding in a breath, looking over their shoulder and cringing at where the kraken lay, indifferent to whatever consequences its presence had on the people there. ‘You brought me here’ he seemed to say, stubbornly fixated on its spot, ‘now I’m going to make do with this’. Namjoon was somewhat sure that the reason Najun hadn’t visited Mogar in almost seven months, despite his favorite vacationing house being there, was because the kraken had moved there and he knew no soldiers would be enough to keep the people from annihilating him. He was sure that most dreamed of offering the emperor to the kraken, so it would finally leave.

They were lucky that the kraken was peaceful, though, which had made everyone live life stepping on eggshells, eternally waiting for the peace to end, but had also allowed them to keep going mostly like normal. They could even fish and continue the commercial trades, despite the fish quality, because the kraken had been nice enough to stay up the river, right where it started to widen. If anything, Mogar was lucky.

The problem was, however, that the economy was worse, and as a vacationing site, Mogar had lost rating stars; hence, Namjoon’s rich family friends had moved back to the capital. He thought he could make do, though, because even if they weren’t there, their houses were, and he told so to Suga as he spent the last of his money on a room for the both of them - not enough money for two rooms, but they would make do. 

“I know all about the security in these houses. If the patron isn’t home, there isn’t a lot of it” Namjoon assured as they dragged their feet upstairs, a belly full of the lamest dinner they’d had - or at least, that Namjoon had had. Couldn’t account for a cat. “We can sneak in, look around. I found Yeodeolb by chance in a secret room at my house, and then I found out it was the only one in my family - who hadn’t even known about it - but they are richer than us. We might find they’ve left a weapon behind, maybe”

“Won’t there be magic protection or something?”

Namjoon rounded a corner “In a vacationing house? At most there’s a- humf”

Namjoon ran straight into a guy who’d walked out of one of the doors down the corridor, and who had to reach out to the wall not to fall.

“Shit, I’m sorry, are you all right?”

The guy looked up, surprised. He was young, at most in his early twenties, skinny and bright-eyed. He smiled, and Namjoon had to blink twice, blinded.

“Oh, don’t worry, I was being careless, not looking where I was going. I just came from talking to the owner, and he asked me to return this from room four” he showed them the dirty bowl and mug he was holding “Some people just don’t clean up after themselves. I don’t remember seeing you before, are you new in town? Are you staying tonight?”

He said a lot of things in a very short amount of time, and both Suga and Namjoon were left staggering for a couple of seconds, before Namjoon stuttered “Ah, yes. Well, actually, I’ve been to Mogar before, but the people I was going to be staying with aren’t home, you know, so now we are only visiting for a couple of days. Do you work here?”

“Oh, I see! That’s not very fun, huh? Ah, no, I don’t work here, I’m just friends with the owner - Kim Baekhyun, a friend from childhood. I actually work at the school down the block, I teach kids” he tilted his head “although I have to say, you do look familiar. Might we have met before?”

The ‘school down the block’ was Bissan Yuchiwon, one of the most expensive, high-class elementary schools in Erian, right behind Maeubissan Yuchiwon in Gaon, and Deobissan Yuchiwon in the capital, Hero.

“Ah, I don’t think we have, although I have a couple of my cousin’s children up in that school, I think they’ve just turned eight and twelve, so you might’ve seen me visiting them before” he was lying, desperately trying to distract him from thinking of Najun at all “Kim Dahyun and Kim Jiho”

“Oh, the Kim family! I had Kim Jiho in my group last year, a delight of a little girl! I do remember she had an older brother, although I don’t think he’s been in my class. So you’re related to them? Oh” he smacked himself in the head “How rude of me, I am talking nonstop without even introducing myself. I’m Jung Hoseok”

Namjoon eyed Yoongi and took Hoseok’s extended hand.

“Pleasure meeting you. Yes, I’m related to them, name’s Namjoon, Kim Namjoon” he over pronounced the “m”, trying to leave no doubt in Hoseok’s mind. He eyed Suga, who seemed to startle and realized he had to introduce himself too.

“Ah, I go by Suga. A pleasure meeting you”

“Suga! What a unique name. Suits you, almost like a kitten’s name” he laughed as he shook Suga’s hand, and Namjoon saw said kitten press his lips tightly together.

“Well, it’s been nice. I hope we meet again tomorrow, Hoseok”

“I surely hope so! Do rest well, nights are getting colder this time a year”

“Do you think he knows I’m a cat?”

“I think you’re being paranoid”

“Am I? He could’ve used any expression. He said ‘a kitten’, almost to intentionally insult me”

“I think you’re exaggerating. He seemed perfectly nice”

“He could be a witch, you know? They can tell immediately, it’s impossible to hide from them”

“Okay, Hoseok, a witch? Doesn’t look the part. I bet it’s nothing, Suga”

“...Okay”

Namjoon sighed. He didn’t know how paranoid cats could get about witches, but he did guess it made sense. Witches were worse than death: it was slavery, manipulation, the loss of the self. He thought about how blind Yoongi’s faith had been when he told him his name.

“Don’t forget to grab the staff”

“You said there wouldn’t be any security”

“I said there would be practically no security”

There were a total of eight spells in the mansion, and about three guards, all sleeping. Namjoon was able to easily deactivate three spells, walk around the fourth one without triggering it, counterrest another two with spells of his own, and get blasted in the face with the last two.

By the time they had finished ripping off the remnants of the web that had trapped them to the wall, intended to trap them there as the other wall closed in on them in an attempt to crush them, they were in a sour mood. The fact that they were dripping wet from running away from a live sea creature after a trapdoor dumped them into the hidden lake below the main salon didn’t help.

“There’s no fucking weapon here, Namjoon”

Namjoon was still panting, and he frowned. “How would you know?”

“I can sense weapons. They’re living objects”

“Maybe it’s dormant or something”

“I would still be able to sense it” Suga showed his teeth in a scowl, looking every bit of a wet cat. Namjoon eyed him and sighed.

“Well. Disappointing. Let’s see if we can find anything of use”

By the time they made it back, all three guards still asleep, they were munching on some fancy sweets they’d taken from the house, as well as carrying two bags full of coin and a couple of decent-looking, enchanted weapons: a sword and a long knife. They weren’t Regal Weapons, but they’d do.

“That’s some real shit security, though. I don’t understand how rich people’s vacationing houses don’t get raided all the time”

“Because most people don’t know how to cast, deactivate or do much about spells. I only know because I was raised by people who could afford such an education”

“Hmm”

They had only opened the front door of the tavern when they were greeted by someone still, impossibly so, sitting at a table, reading some papers. Hoseok looked up, surprised.

“Oh! Suga, Namjoon. Still up?” he scrunched his nose “Ugh, you smell like spells. Should I bring you up a bath?”

Namjoon felt Suga almost bristle next to him.

“Ah, what do you mean we smell like spells?” The mercenary laughed nervously, but Hoseok was already slipping behind the bar, looking for a bucket to go fill it with warm water, and he gestured at them with his hand distractedly.

“You smell all weird, like electricity. Have you had a run with a witch or something?” And Hoseok looked up to smile at them in a conspiratory friendly manner, and Suga was absolutely sure he had looked at him specifically, then, and he couldn’t handle it anymore. Looking cornered and humiliated, Namjoon watched him stride over to Hoseok and grab him by the arm that was now holding the empty bucket. Suga stared right into his eyes before speaking.

“You’re a witch” he affirmed, gravely. Namjoon was paralyzed near the door, taken by surprise and at a loss on what to do.

Hoseok blinked, and then he smiled very benevolently.

“Why, yes sure, my dear. A witch I am. Now would you let go of me so I can fill this up while you prepare the bathtub upstairs?”

Suga blinked, confused, and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before Namjoon took him by the arm and, thanking Hoseok over the shoulder, dragged Suga upstairs.

“Well, why would he need any familiars, Suga? He works at a school”

“But he can’t be eating those kids, Namjoon. They’d notice”

“He could have access to families, though. I mean, if he’s inserted himself in society, he has access to a lot of places. I don’t know how he managed to sneak through or hide his magic but, once in, he could walk into any poor neighborhood and get his fill”

Suga winced, and Namjoon could only sympathize. He had turned Suga back into a cat (same procedure as before) so that he could lick himself clean, since he refused to partake in bathing, and now the cat was still licking his leg on the bed while Namjoon sat in the bathtub, water still comfortably warm.

A knock on the door startled them, and Hoseok’s head peaked in. “Everything alright? You let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“Yes, thank yo-”

“Oh my god!” Hoseok shrieked, having spotted Suga, who stopped licking for a second, a horrified look in his face as Hoseok got nearer. One look from Namjoon was enough to deter him from running, though; they both knew it would be impossible for Hoseok to know his name without some complex rituals and, if he already knew it, there would be no use to running. Better save the energy for the fight.

“You’re so cute !” 

Suga didn’t move a muscle even when Hoseok sat next to him and started to pet him, rubbing under his chin and behind his ears very enthusiastically. Hoseok turned to Namjoon, who was still immobile in the water, more confused by the minute.

“I didn’t know you two had a cat! Was he here the whole time?” 

What?

Hoseok then seemed to take account of his surroundings, and he frowned, confused.

“Oh. Where’d Suga go?”

“Namjoon, that’s impossible”

“It’s the obvious answer”

“He can’t be a witch and not know I’m a cat”

“Dude, you’re the one who knows about this voodoo magic thing. Could Yeodeolb’s thing cover it up?”

“Not so perfectly, it can’t”

“Maybe this one’s stupid”

“Namjoon, he could sense the remains of magic on us the minute we walked in”

“That has to be much easier to detect, though”

“I’m so not risking this. We’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Listen, maybe he’s dumb, but maybe he’s good. Have you thought about that? Maybe he’s progressive”

“Oh I’m sorry, you mean to say maybe he doesn’t eat kids? A witch ?”

“I never understood why kids, anyway”

“More nutrients. Stronger magic, because of all the innocence or whatever, I just know the bigger the sacrifice the tastier and more nutritious the meal”

“That’s fucked up. How the fuck does that work?”

“I don’t know, they are magical beings and need magical shit to live”

“Maybe this one’s given up magic?”

“So he’s just a frustrated human? Namjoon, would you give up your weapon voluntarily? Why on earth would someone make such a decision?”

“Maybe he loves kids, maybe he hates killing people and isolating himself in the woods. Maybe he-dude, he likes people, that much is obvious. He enjoys being around others. I can’t imagine him settling for a life as a regular witch”

“You do know witches sometimes form covens, right?”

“Suga, think about him. Hoseok looks like the kind of guy who would hate other witches. They're more or less everything he's not”

“Maybe he’s excellent at acting. Have you forgotten witches excel at pretending?”

“It doesn’t make any sense! Also, I asked around. There have been no cases of children disappearing in Mogar”

“One, no one notices kids who sleep on the street or who live in houses with holes in the ceiling and another nine kids. Two, what on earth would he be eating if not children? If he doesn’t consume anything that might fuel his magical power he’d be weak, not just powerless but weak physically”

“I don’t know, doesn’t deflowering virgins count?”

“You were the one saying ‘oh look at him, he’d never do such a thing’, and now you come up with that?”

“Well, I don’t know! If it’s consensual… Oh, I know! Maybe he eats puppies!”

“Lame. So he ain’t gonna enslave me, but he might eat me or fuck me, is that it?”

“Oh my god, Yoongi! You are definitely far from innocent, what kind of sacrifice is that?” he sighed “Maybe he’s just found a way to absorb these nutrients without consuming them, huh? Like, through teaching, maybe”

“Which defeats your plan entirely”

Namjoon sighed again.

His plan was simple. They were on a complicated journey, and they needed as much help as they could get. Hoseok, if he was a witch, could help a lot. And he was very nice, and very lovely.

“Maybe he feeds off of his own innocence” Namjoon muttered, spread wide across the bed. Yoongi stood next to the window that faced the street. He scoffed.

“Then where’s the sacrifice?” he paused, shaking his head slightly “You’re so easily tricked, human”

“Am I? I swear something tells me he’s alright. I don’t know why, but he’s got this vibe, you know? Like he’s safe”

“Witches are really good at tricking”

“Except not really. Not me, at least. I can always tell”

They didn’t say anything. 

“Maybe he just hasn’t figured out my name yet, and he was pretending, earlier, in order to make time”

“Mmm…” Namjoon pondered “If he’d been there, we would have been in and out of that house in a heartbeat. Dry and well. He could spell off nightwalkers, too”

Yoongi sighed, his voice flat and emotionless. “Am I not enough for you?”

“You know that’s not it; this benefits you too. He can definitely protect you against other witches, too”

“You can do that”

“Not as well. I’m not a magic user, Suga. I can only play around some basic stuff”

“I don’t need it anyway”

“Alright”

Najun had a vacationing house in Mogar. They’d known this, of course, but the penny didn’t drop until they walked right past it.

Namjoon stopped in his tracks and turned towards the building.

Grey stone spread far and wide; the house rose up to six floors and it stretched for, what? The length of ten regular houses lined up? There was a path leading to the entrance, surrounded by the greenest, most luscious yet neat garden Namjoon had seen. What an extravagance. Cypresses on each side of the path, a bed of flowers covering the grass. All kinds of fancy trees heavy with fruit, colorful bushes and different plants spread out. Balconies on every window. Two white carved pillars guarded the gate; two dragon heads on top of each. Lucky he hadn't gone for the kraken heads when he was building his Mogar residency.

Namjoon kept looking. All the windows of the house were dark.

He made up his mind and turned to call Suga over, but the small man was already standing a few feet ahead of him, looking straight at him. Not saying a word, just waiting. Namjoon blanched. Damn. I keep forgetting he’s a cat.

Suga tilted his head in question.

“This is Najun’s vacationing house. Najun currently owns twelve Regal Weapons, but even if he didn’t, a noble’s house is bound to have something in it”

Suga smirked. “I like it. A last raid before leaving the city”

“We’re not raiding it…” he muttered, and turned to look at the mansion again “but,”

“I don’t like where this is going”

“There’s bound to be a lot more protection in this house than in the last one. A lot more; this is Najun’s”

“It’s a bad idea”

“Is it? That way we can test him”

“He can go along with it just to pretend”

“Suga, how long can it take a witch to figure out a cat’s name?”

“If he’s dumb, quite long, since I’m very sneaky”

“Then it wouldn’t be of any use, because if his magic isn’t strong enough to find your name it’s not strong enough to bind you for long”

Suga didn’t answer. Namjoon was right; it had been almost two days already, any witch would’ve known Suga’s name by now. Unless he was incompetent, in which case he wouldn’t be able to bend Suga’s will for long. And either way, he had Namjoon to protect him, too.

Suga sighed, defeated.

“What would this prove, anyway?”

“That he’s of use”

‘And what after?’ ‘After, we take him with us.’ ‘Why is it so necessary?’ ‘Because we’re heading across the sea and the land there is five times more dangerous.’ ‘We can fend for ourselves.’ ‘Why risk it?’ ‘What kind of witch would say yes to this deal anyway? What’s in it for him?’ ‘Adventure, friends. We can ask him if he’d be interested and that’s it, really.’ ‘That’s so stupid. He’s gonna make something up.’ ‘What if he does? To be fair, I have no idea what you’re up to either.’ Silence. ‘ What’s he even gonna eat?’ ‘We can ask him what he’s eating now.’ ‘Like he’d be honest!’ ‘I told you I’m very good at figuring out if someone’s honest, right? Also, there’s no children on the west of Erien. Or like, not many.’ ‘Are there any virgins, though?’ ‘Oh shut up.’

Namjoon was actually barely nineteen when he asked Hoseok to help them break into and steal from Najun’s house. He didn’t say what they were looking for, though.

Hoseok was nineteen, too, when he said yes. He loved a good adventure, and he wholeheartedly hated Najun, so he’d help with the cause.

I'm not saying their ages because it's relevant to the story. I'm saying their ages to excuse the stupid decisions. After all, we were all nineteen once.

Namjoon eyed him carefully.

“So, could you take care of the curses?”

“Oh, sure. I did take some classes on magic when I was young” Hoseok winked and Namjoon saw Suga scowl next to him.

“Great! That’d be so helpful, actually”

Suga took care of the guards. They were careful to avoid him transforming to or from a cat near Hoseok, just in case, but there turned out not to be issues in that department, since the witch seemed to be delighted by everything else going on at the mansion.

“The front yard is so big, Namjoon. I wish I had a garden like this one one day”

“Yeah”

“With all of these flowers”

“Mhm. Listen, Hoseok, there’s gonna be a spell on the door. Can you take care of it?”

“Oh, of course" he eyed the double doors " Blavitika ” he waved his hand around, and said doors creaked, shuddered, and opened wide. Namjoon tried to control his breathing.

“Wow, that’s great. You’re very good”

Hoseok smiled from ear to ear. “Thank you! I come from a pretty magical family, you know?”

“Yeah, of course you do. Alright, let’s get in. Are there any more spells near the entrance?”

Hoseok kneeled and touched the floor a little ways from the gate. He whispered something and spelled ‘fortune’ on the floor, and Namjoon heard wood creaking and the sighing of furniture, despite not seeing anything. He eyed Hoseok before joining him.

“Fortune?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah” Hoseok got up and smiled. He looked slightly more tired “Most spells that mean to trap use the ‘unlucky’ form. So, fortune takes care of them”

“Oh. What about the ones that mean to eject instead of trap? Or kill, or something”

“The only ‘eject’ one, or rather, ‘to keep out’ so ‘impenetrable’ one, was on the door. The ones like furniture moving to crush you or so are meant to kill or at least harm, but since they mean to trap you first they use the unlucky form”

“Ah, I see. You know a lot”

“I told you, I come from a magic-lathen family”

“Of course”

“Where’s Suga?”

Suga had just finished outing the last of eight guards across the first wing of the mansion, and blinked at Namjoon from the shadows of the living room as Hoseok oohed and aahed at the first salon, which was small but fancy, as any reception room was bound to be.

Namjoon blinked back. They had figured out that, after the first few times, it was enough just to blink at each other for the transformation to happen. Or rather, for Namjoon to blink while imagining Suga as a human; he guessed it was because the image of Suga as a person was infinitely easier to conjure now that he had seen and lived with human Suga.

The former cat came out of the shadows and approached them, fully dressed. That was another problem they’d encountered: every time he shifted shapes he left his clothes behind, and when he turned back he was without them. It took quite a bit of research (at Namjoon’s family friends’ library) but he figured out an enchantment that could make the clothes merge with Suga’s fur so that when he turned back, the clothes would also turn back.

The problem was that the enchantment was well beyond Namjoon’s magical abilities, so Suga had to settle with Namjoon's enchantment to shrink the clothes on him while he was a cat and then unshrink them when he turned human. Suga hated it, because he hated wearing anything as a cat, but until they figured a better way for it to work, this would have to do.

Or, in other words, until Namjoon convinced Suga to accept Hoseok in their group. The witch would clearly be able to cast the first enchantment.

They broke through all of the magical bounds of the first part of the mansion very easily (Hoseok did) and moved onto the second wing. Namjoon stopped just short of it to ask Suga if he could sense any Regal Weapons (“Regal Weapons?!” Hoseok whispered excitedly “You’re looking for Regal Weapons? Do you want to be a mercenary?” “I already am, I lost mine” Namjoon whispered back “What?! That’s awesome!”), but there was nothing on the first wing. The magic bounds of the other wings were blocking his vision, though, so they stepped into the second part of the house.

Namjoon was leading them, and he asked Suga to take care of the guards (even as a human, he was sneaky and silent) while Hoseok focused on the spells, and he guarded his back.

Hoseok looked exhausted by the end of it.

“There were many more in this wing, more powerful, too. One of them was a pain, let me tell you… Is there anything here?”

Suga was silent. Namjoon held his breath.

“Not here. Not here, but I feel something nearby…”

Something…

They still raided the wing of the house for anything useful before moving onto the next one, pockets full of gold trinkets to sell later. They would sell well; Namjoon was sure anyone would love to have the pleasure of melting Najun’s property and reselling it.

Hoseok stopped short of the entrance to the third wing. He looked a bit paler, and Namjoon exchanged a look with Suga.

“How many wings are there?”

“About eight” Suga answered.

Hoseok winced. “I don’t know if I can do them all, guys”

Namjoon gave Suga a triumphant look, trying not to be obvious. He’s weak, he wanted to say, he’s weaker than any other witch would be, which means he is not eating children on the regular.

Suga raised his eyebrows. But he does have magic, and quite a bit, so what’s he eating, Namjoon?

Namjoon sighed.

“Hoseok… Do you have any nicknames that you’d like us to call you, or is Hoseok alright?”

He saw Suga sigh imperceptibly and shift to look away, but Hoseok brightened and his smile shone like a sun in the dim lights of the mansion.

“Oh, you can call me Hobi! All my friends do”

Namjoon smiled. He was such a sunshine, no way he meant any harm.

“Hobi, then. I was meaning to ask you earlier, but is there something you need to fuel your magic? Is there something we could help you with?”

Since he was the one asking, he’d force Hoseok to think of alternatives that were… vegan, let’s say.

“Oh” Hoseok frowned slightly, thinking. Suga was as tense as a bow. Or tense as a cat about to bolt, too “I guess, if you had some food… I didn’t have time to eat breakfast today, actually, so I’m a bit hungry”

“You haven’t eaten anything the whole day ?!” Suga turned to him, outraged “And you’re doing next level magic? Are you stupid? Sit down, oh my god”

Hoseok seemed surprised at this reaction (to be fair, Namjoon was, too), but he did as he was told, and Suga ushered Namjoon to pull out the bread and cheese they had packed for the road. 

“Here” Namjoon handed it over, and Suga kept bickering at them before pulling a goatskin from an inner pocket (that Namjoon had no idea he carried) and handing it to Hoseok, not looking at him. The witch thanked them and downed a bite of bread with the goatskin. He choked.

“Oh my god! It’s milk!”

“What?” a ripple of laughter escaped Namjoon as Suga’s face turned red “You carry a goatskin with milk on you?”

“Shut up” Suga muttered before saying something about keeping guard and walking away. Namjoon was too busy laughing to answer, and Hoseok giggled a little, too, looking a bit confused.

“Maybe he just really likes milk. I’m actually very grateful he shared it with me; I thought he hated me”

Namjoon sobered up some. Hoseok had no idea just how funny it was that Suga carried milk with him. Is this why he wanted to be human? To carry milk with him? Before he could answer him, Namjoon had to fight another burst of laughter.

“Oh, Hobi, after you get to know him more you’ll understand how funny this is”

“I imagine” Hoseok laughed a little more, awkwardly, and then brightened back up “Wait, does that mean you’re staying?”

Namjoon’s laughter decidedly died down, and he cleared his throat.

“Um, no, we’re gonna keep going. Hey, eat” He motioned him with his hand, and Hoseok resumed eating “We’re planning on crossing the sea, you know, to the west. As I'd told you, I’m a mercenary, but I lost my sword some months back. I went north looking for it but I couldn’t find it…”

“North? Why? There’s not much up there”

“I thought maybe a mountain giant had taken it, since I lost it around there. Woke up without it. But I skirted the bottom of the mountain chain and felt no connection, so it wasn’t there”

“Hmm” Hoseok chewed and swallowed “I’m sorry to hear it”

“It’s okay. Now I’m just looking for any Regal Weapon, really; I didn’t use mine for long enough that it’d be a problem to bond with a different one”

“Of course, that makes sense. And you’re traveling west?”

“There’s always been more magic in the west, as well as more dangers. But it’s my best shot, really”

“I see. And what about Suga?”

“He has his own interests, which I’m not sure about, but we struck a deal. For now, our paths align, and he’s coming with me”

“Oh, that’s good”

“I was wondering if you’d like to come, too”

Hoseok choked on his bread.

“What?”

“You’re very good at magic. You’d be a great help”

Hoseok swallowed and drank more milk.

“I’m not much, Namjoon. I’ve never been a fighter. I teach kids, for god’s sake”

“Would you not like the adventure? I understand if you don’t, but if you do…”

Hoseok seemed troubled.

“I can’t leave everything behind” he muttered.

“Do you have family here?”

“No, no, but… The kids are my family, the school is, too. And, regardless” he seemed ashamed when he whispered it “I’ve never left Mogar. Not further than Liliath, or Peltra”

Namjoon smiled wide.

“Well, this is your chance, then” Wait. “Were you born here?”

“A little ways from here, actually, in the forest up north. Emergency delivery” he gave a small smile. Okay, Namjoon thought. He is a witch, but I’m starting to wonder if he knows it.

“Oh. Who taught you magic?”

“My grandma. She was very good  at it, and I grew up in her cabin a little ways from Mogar, learning the ropes. She died when I was ten, and I came to the city. Found some family members willing to host me, and attended school. I did well, and ended up as a teacher there once I finished, teaching elementary schoolers; then, a teacher at Bissan Yuchiwon resigned and somebody recommended me. And that’s about it”

So, he was poor but well educated. Probably middle class, then. His ‘grandma’ had been a witch, not that he’d figured it out, and his family members decided not to touch the subject. Now Hoseok knew magic but didn’t know why.

“Did your mother know magic, too?” 

They turned around; Suga was leaning against a pillar not far from them. He’d probably been listening. Hoseok nodded.

“Yeah, runs in the family. My grandma, then my mother, then me. My aunt can also do some spells, but not a lot; she told me she was often jealous of mom because of it”

“And why did your grandma live in the woods?”

Hoseok shrugged and bit into his piece of cheese.

“She said people were annoying”

“You mom did live in Mogar, though, didn’t she?” Namjoon peppered in.

Hoseok nodded and swallowed. “Yeah, she loved people. Couldn’t stand life isolated”

“How did…” Suga paused and shifted, looking for a way to ask what he wanted.

“Did your devotion for animals come from your mom, then?” Namjoon smiled innocently. Suga stared at him. Smart bastard.

Hoseok brightened.

“Oh, you mean because of the cat in your room the other day? Yes, I love animals! They’re so fluffy and lovely… I’m not sure if I do get it from my mom, but I’m gonna guess so, since she’s always been so lovely herself” he smiled and his eyes thinned into crescent moons “My grandma certainly wasn’t an animal person; no pets in the house, or whatever. I honestly don’t know how she could bear with me”

Namjoon laughed, relieved. “That can be a drag; in my house, they didn’t allow pets either. If you don’t mind my question, what did your grandma died of?”

Suga winced, and Hoseok smiled sadly.

“I see you’re doing me a job interview before inviting me to join your adventure” he joked, not knowing he was absolutely right "Don't worry, I don't have any hereditary or contagious diseases"

“Sorry” Namjoon laughed. You have contracted witchcraft, though, Suga thought.

“It’s no problem, I have no issue sharing, really. My grandma died… I don’t know of what. She just kind of… faded. Grew thinner and more tired and greyer. She just seemed to fade, and one day, she didn’t wake up”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Hoseok…”

“It happened a long time ago, it’s alright. She did try, though. I think it had to do with food, because we’d eat something different every week. But I mean like, wildly different. One time we ate flowers. And sometimes she seemed brighter after, more lively, and then she would dim again. I’m not sure”

“Mmm. Did you feel any different while eating the meals?”

“Mmm? No. Well, actually…” he laughed, looking embarrassed, and fixed his eyes on the last bite of bread in his hands “I did like the flowers. Eating flowers, I mean” a pause, and then, a guilty whisper “...I still do it, sometimes”.

Both Namjoon and Suga deflated against the wall, the sigh of a forty-year-old with three kids at his care on the tip of their tongues. 

Of course he eats fucking flowers.