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Ash burns Jimin’s cheeks in small pinpricks as it flutters down from the sky in dizzy clusters. He grips his sword in his hand, hard enough to turn his knuckles white, and stares across the battlefield before him. The field is crawling with the twisted bodies of the undead, tumbling toward his father’s army. The knot in his stomach clenches tighter than before when he spots purple pinpricks of light piercing through the darkness of the dead forest on the horizon.
They had been fighting for weeks, steadily cutting down the unending stream of reanimated bones and rotted flesh. Under the layer of burnt and disfigured bodies the soil was fertile, and as Jimin's father had put it: worth the bloodshed .
As the remainder of the army, veiled by smoke and flames, lines the ridge of the valley, the heads of the undead suddenly snap toward them with an eerie crack that echoes against the cliffs. There is a single moment of stillness, of bated breath, where life evaporates from the surface of the earth before it plunges into irreparable chaos.
The undead snake across the land in writhing masses of bone and gnarled flesh. Jimin steadies his crown, calling his army forward one last time, and they pour into the valley like a stream of molten metal. Jimin is not sure if it is his heart that hammers in his ears or if it’s the thundering of his horse’s hooves as he charges into battle.
His body jerks as his horse clashes with the frontline and arrows whistle through the air, hitting his shield with a dull thump . Hundreds of withered hands reach out toward him and rusted weapons smack against Jimin’s sword as he fights his way through the swarm.
The rivers of the valley run dark with congealed blood and Jimin can taste the phantom sweetness of victory on the tip of his tongue as they drive the horde toward the dark forest one final time. He bites his lip hard enough to break the skin as he smites his last enemy upon the riverbank.
He turns back to face his troops and his horse rears, the announcement ready in his throat.
The ground begins to shake, screams echoing through the valley and Jimin’s blood runs cold. He turns slowly to see the ground at the centre of the valley breaking apart, rumbling with the force of an earthquake. Jimin’s army scatters like silverfish, beyond terrified as a horrific beast awakens from an age long slumber.
A low, inhuman growl echoes through the valley as a large ashy skull unearths itself, followed by two more rotted skulls, all attached to the same skeletal body. Dread creeps up Jimin’s spine like cold, slimy fingers and his breath gets caught in his throat. The monster rises, casting a shadow over Jimin. It’s easily the size of a tower and emanates an odour more foul than death itself.
It’s the creature – from the ancient carvings on the ruined temple walls. A Wither .
“Run!”
There is a burst of air from the Wither’s mouth and a dark mass flies from it, exploding on the ground, sending soldiers flying through the air in pieces. Jimin’s horse bolts, carrying him across the shallows of the river and into the forest. He holds on for dear life as low hanging branches whip against his face in stinging droves. Explosions sound out in the distance, making his horse wildly buck until he loses grip. His stomach swoops as he’s flung off, tumbling down a ridge and hitting a rotted log.
His ears ring and he cannot breathe, no matter how hard his chest heaves against the phantom menace that squeezes his ribs breathless. There’s ash and dirt in his mouth and nose and blood dribbles down his forehead into his eye. He was certain he was going to die – if not now, then soon.
Sound slowly comes back to him, accompanied by his breath, but the pain and panic remain unwavering. Deep rumbles ripple through the air as each accursed projectile of the Wither explodes in putrid fashion. He knows each blow means more of his men are dead; blown to pieces and – if the ancient tales were right – withered beyond recognition by The Sickness. The valley would be gone, forever tainted by the Wither’s plague.
Not only had Jimin failed his father, but he had failed his people.
Shadowed figures dart between the trees, pulling Jimin from his hopelessness. The hairs on Jimin’s forearms stand up when he spots a pair of glowing purple eyes in the distance. He wipes the blood from his eye and locks onto the two purple orbs in the distance.
Endermen.
They are strange creatures, dark as night, twice the height of a man, but with long, gangly limbs. They wander the land aimlessly, with humanoid faces, and slaughter all who perceive them, appearing in front one moment and then behind in a flash of purple dust.
One blink and the eyes disappear.
Jimin scrambles to his feet and stumbles about, unable to find his sword. There is a sudden whoosh at his side and he cries out as stinging pain radiates from the back of his neck. He runs as the thing teleports, swiping at him with its sharp claws and ringing its husky screeches through the naked trees. He runs as faster then ever thought he could, the adrenaline making him feel lighter than air, until he trips on a bramble and sends himself flying headfirst into a pond.
The water ripples around his palms as he drags himself upright again with trembling arms. He can feel his strength fading as weeks worth of battle, sleepless nights and injury, buried deep within his bones, starts to seep back into his muscles. He waits, shivering as the distant sounds of battle are muffled by the heartbeat in his ears – until it is all he can hear.
There is a whoosh and a splash beside him and the enderman howls as its feet touch the water. It vanishes, reappearing at the edge of the pond, mouth wide open, jaw unhinged.
It can’t reach him.
The enderman’s ankles are steadily smoking and burning away the pigment as it swipes at him from across the water. The world blurs around him as he waits for the enderman to tire and leave.
He is dangerously close to fading away when the enderman gives up and disappears in a flash of purple. Jimin finally remembers to breathe and falls back into the water, clutching at his chest. His wounds burn as he drags himself to the shallows with the last of his energy.
As Jimin crawls through the mud, he hopes to the gods someone will find him before nightfall or before he freezes to death – whichever came first. He catches a glimpse of purple in the corner of his eye and freezes. He can see long, gangly legs and large, boney claws nursing a handful of dirt. His arms shake as he collapses forward, embracing the darkness that calls for him.
🗡⚔🗡
Death feels a lot worse than Jimin ever imagined. It’s not the hellfire that had been rumoured amongst the clerics, it’s unexpectedly cold and damp, so much that Jimin’s muscles ache from shivering. His skin burns like hundreds of tiny mice are biting through his skin. His eyes flash open and he startles when something touches his cheek.
Two bright purple circles hover above him in the darkness. A scream builds in his throat, but a long, cold hand covers his mouth, muffling the sound as it ricochets through his throat. His body seizes from agony, so he lies there catatonic, as the eyes glance away for a moment.
A low, throaty vwoop comes from the creature’s mouth and Jimin is unsure why it makes his body go limp. Long, pointed fingers run down his body and peel large, damp leaves covered in salves from his bare skin. The enderman disappears in a flash of purple and moments later is back with replacements.
The eyes are the only thing in the darkness he has to hold onto. This enderman – this thing – is tending to his wounds with a delicacy unseen by the human eye, while the rest of its kind mercilessly attack his people.
It’s rather peculiar.
Jimin startles when the creature vanishes again, leaving him with nothing but the night around him.
It takes all his strength to lift himself to his feet and he stumbles unceremoniously until he steadies himself against a twisted tree. He peers through the darkness, hoping to grasp a single clue of which direction he should head – he just knows he doesn’t want to return to the battlefield where that monstrosity was.
A glimmer of purple in the distance catches his eye. It makes his chest tingle horribly with anxiety, not knowing if that’s the friendly enderman from before. He has no hope of getting out of here alone.
He trudges toward the faint light, stumbling over the twisted brambles that snake across the ground. As he closes in on the purple haze of particles, they suddenly implode with a strange sound, before reappearing further away. He follows to somewhere unknown, where death or serendipity awaits his misplaced footsteps.
After trudging through the near darkness, limping from tree to tree, Jimin hears voices that bring warmth to his chest. It imbues him with energy he did not know he had and he picks up his shuffling pace, desperate to meet the source.
Amber light glows through the trees, flickering like beckoning fingers, and the voices become clearer.
“Hello?” Jimin calls out as best he can with his voice torn to shreds. He staggers forward like a moth drawn to a flame until he spots silhouettes amongst the trees. The armour they wear is familiar – his people.
“Your highness!” a voice shouts over the murmuring. In a flurry of movement, there are soldiers at his side, carrying his weight on their shoulders.
“We thought you were dead,” someone murmurs into his ear. “We are so happy to have found you safe.”
Jimin relaxes in the arms of his soldiers, glimpsing a flash of purple particles in the distance before his eyes slip shut. The relief is short lived when he realises he will have to face his father and tell him of their losses that day.
Death would have been kinder.
🗡⚔🗡
“You lost the valley?” The King spits incredulously as Jimin enters the chamber. He left his crutch at the door and held his breath to inflate his crumpled body. There would be no sympathy from his father – he was the King, first and foremost, which had been made abundantly clear to Jimin since his older brother ‘fell’ from the belltower. Jimin knew it wasn’t an accident and their father refused to believe it.
“Father, it was doomed from the beginning. It awakened a Wither . We must look elsewhere for land,” Jimin suggests tensely.
“I don’t suppose you’d rise to the occasion of invading our neighbour’s cabbage patch?” the King mocks, stabbing a carving fork into the roast beef resting amongst golden potatoes beside him.
“I will take what is ours, no matter the cost. As long as it enables us to push forth into the fire and brimstone for netherite – your army will be invincible.” Jimin hopes that rerouting the discussion to that godsforsaken place would draw his father’s attention away from his failures. He had been obsessing over the land beyond the violet veil since he had learned of tales of an unbreakable metal: netherite. Mining it was beyond costly, but in the King’s mind, the benefits far outweighed the personal costs – if any.
“Good. Then, begone! Out of my sight,” he shoos Jimin away, lips still curling with disgust.
“Yes, your majesty.” Jimin bows as low as he can manage without doubling over in pain and turns to leave.
“I expected better of you.” His father’s voice echoes through the chamber, pounding against Jimin’s eardrums. The disappointment weighs heavily, rifling with the feeling of injustice that wells up inside him. “You are dismissed.”
Jimin turns away from his father, bitter that the weight of the kingdom rests on his shoulders whilst his father lounges in his absence. He leaves in silence and returns to his chamber with his crutch, eager to finally rest and recover from his injuries.
The royal nurse tends to his wounds, marvelling over how well he’d been treated before he arrived home. She sets him up to rest with a pitcher of water and a numbing tonic for later, telling him to call for her if anything happens.
Jimin melts into his bed the second the nurse leaves, his consciousness slipping away as the world fades into inky nighttime. He passes in and out of reality, through strange dreams and hallucinations brought on by the tonic and memories of the valley. Odd colours and voices twisted and faded around him and the world wobbled nauseatingly as he tossed and turned. He remembers seeing the sun through his window a few times when he was certain he was awake. The sun and the sweat stained sheets sticking to his skin and careful hands changing his bandages became the only wakeful moments in his memory.
It is the following night when Jimin thinks he awakens, unsure of how long he had been drifting in and out of sleep. The pain had returned, dulled with time, but awful nonetheless. He takes a swig of the disgusting tonic that was left on his nightstand and lays back. He begins to feel restless, like something is itching beneath his skin, so he slides out of bed to light a candle.
The city is laid out before his window, drenched in shadow save for the smatterings of glowing lanterns and torchlight. The world beyond remains an unlit mystery without the moonlight, even more so when Jimin spots a faint glimmer of purple between the trees of the forest beyond the kingdom walls.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, reverberating through the ground, and raindrops begin to tap against the open window pane. The drizzle remains light for some time and the purple glow endures, flashing around the same area, always half masked by branches.
A throaty howl sounds in the distance as the downpour begins and the purple incrementally flashes closer, making that same sound he heard from the forest. It makes his stomach clench, unknowing of the fate awaiting him. He grips the windowsill hard enough for his knuckles to turn white.
Something rushes past his ear and he turns, shrieking as he spots a tall, dark figure behind him. When it doesn’t move, Jimin allows himself to breathe again, realising this must be the enderman that helped him. In the half-light of the candle, he can see its features better.
The enderman stands tall, flecked with white from the rain, with a fluffy head of black hair. Jimin can just barely see the outline of large black fangs that seem to be part of its jaw, unhidden by its non-existent lipline. It holds a perfectly intact tuft of grass in its long fingers and places it down on the floor of Jimin’s chamber, face completely blank.
“W-why are you here?” Jimin asks hesitantly as the enderman shuffles toward the dresser opposite his bed. It doesn’t reply, instead it gently runs its sharp fingers along the map on the wall, deep in thought. The creature hums to itself, a low trill in the back of its throat, and takes a golden totem, with two large emeralds inlaid where the eyes were, and cradles it in its hands. Jimin wants to arc up about the theft, but the lack of intention upon the creature's face convinces him it’s not worth upsetting it over.
“That was you last night, right?” Jimin asks, gesturing to the enderman. “Thank you?”
The enderman makes a low vwoop sound in reply and finally turns toward Jimin. Even in the candle light, its purple eyes glow brightly, mesmerising and wise beyond ages Jimin’s people have never seen. Its eyes begin to widen, unlatching its jaw, almost screaming with its voice stuck in the very back of its throat.
It’s the telltale sign that they’re going to attack, so Jimin stumbles back, trying to find his feet before he lands in his armchair. He screws his eyes shut and waits.
But death doesn’t come. The noise stops and Jimin cracks an eye open to see the enderman hugging its sides, seemingly disturbed by its own actions. They remain silent, not daring to move and shatter the tension between them. Jimin gulps down the fear lodged in his throat and speaks gently.
“Do you have a name?”
The enderman perks up and replies with two syllables, something Jimin cannot understand or replicate with his own tongue. Timidly, he rises from his chair and quietly pads around to the dresser to prepare a sheet of parchment and a quill. He lights another candle and it illuminates the remainder of the room, showing the enderman running a finger along the words in an open book.
“Can you write your name for me?” Jimin gestures to the paper. As the enderman approaches, Jimin writes his own name, points to it and then himself. “I’m Jimin.” He moves away to allow the enderman some room.
It doesn’t pick up the quill, but rather dips its long finger into the inkwell and writes with its claw scraping across the smooth surface, flicking dots of ink around the lines of the symbols. It finishes and steps away, leaving a few drops of black ink to fall to the floor. Jimin approaches the parchment, unsure of what he will find written.
In thick black ink, the word ⊬⍜⍜⋏☌⟟ is written clearly. It’s puzzling, to say the least. Some of it is similar to his own kingdom’s script. Perhaps a root version of the script? ㅏㅣ으으ㅅㅇ오 made no sense to him, “a-i-eu-eut-ng-oh…” he murmurs to himself.
As he mulls it over in his mind, he can hear the enderman quietly poking about his chamber, dropping the heavy golden totem and opting to nurse the half-filled water pitcher in its large, spindly hands.
Just as Jimin was about to give up decoding it and settling on calling the creature ai-eut, a single thread of thought catches him off guard. He follows it in his mind until he is brought to an old memory from the brief time in his childhood where a scholar named Namjoon tutored him in whatever he was interested in, rather than following the directions of his father. The script looks similar to a writing system he had studied before the scholar Namjoon was banished. He writes beneath each letter Y O O N G I and points to it.
“I’ll give you a name in our tongue,” he announces, carefully writing 윤기 beneath it. He points to the parchment and then to the enderman. “Yoongi.”
The creature – now satisfactorily named Yoongi – seems to be in agreement with Jimin, ears perked up and and eyes glowing more brightly. Jimin smiles, finally feeling like there might be a mutual understanding between them. There seemed to be more to enderman than what meets the eye.
Jimin also belatedly realises it may not be entirely appropriate to refer to his newfound acquaintance as “it” in the object form. He looks the enderman up and down and can’t come to a definite conclusion.
“I, uh, I don’t–” Jimin trails off, embarrassed. “I don’t really know how to refer to you.”
Yoongi continues to wander around the room, taking interest in the pillows on Jimin’s bed. It drops the pitcher of water onto the sheets, narrowly avoiding spilling it. They take one of the pillows and squeeze it between their long fingers appreciatively before taking it.
“You’d assume that endermen are men, seeming that it’s in the name, but now that I think about it, I’m beginning to question it.”
Yoongi looks back at him for a moment and then directs their attention out the window. Perhaps there was no definitive answer. The rhythm of the rain has eased somewhat and tiny pinpricks of light can be seen in the distance where the clouds have started to clear.
“The rain burns, doesn’t it?”
Yoongi’s long, pointed ears seem to droop at Jimin’s words. Yoongi will have to leave soon – endermen were nocturnal creatures as far as Jimin understood. They stand in silence, listening to the rhythm of the rain become sluggish.
Yoongi looks back to Jimin for a short moment with his big eyes trembling like the surface of a lake disturbed by a stone, before disappearing in a puff of purple particles, taking Jimin’s pillow with him. Jimin rushes to the window and watches Yoongi teleport from rooftop to rooftop until they disappear into the night.
🗡⚔🗡
Even weeks later, in the midst of battle, Jimin’s mind continues to wander to his encounters with Yoongi. Always in dark rooms, infused with the ambience of rain with nothing and everything left unsaid.
He steadies his horse as his troops rush into another battle, leaving him remembering the strangely smooth feeling of Yoongi’s skin beneath his fingers. This battle is a reluctant attempt to win his father’s favour once more. This time it is against their neighbouring kingdom for their farmland to fuel the netherite miners.
Dried blood sticks to Jimin’s face as he slashes his way through the frontlines, edging the enemy troops toward the cliffside. Stacks of parchment flitter through his mind, covered in Yoongi’s strange symbols and splotches of ink cracking like dried blood. Voices clash and echo in a thoughtless cacophony amongst the clang of metal. It’s chaos and all Jimin wants to do is retreat to the back of his mind.
It was a mistake.
One minute he is on his horse, arm shaking with the force of parrying a hit, the next minute he is on his back with the breath knocked out of him.
“Park Jimin!” a voice roars over the others. Jimin wishes for the comfort of a violet embrace as he trembles.
The field clears around him as a giant of a man approaches him. Jimin recognises him as the renowned warrior, The Wolf, stronger than ten men and the bloodlust of a starved wolf. He is barrel chested and smattered with twisted pink scars.
Jimin scrambles to his feet and brandishes his sword. He is almost certain he catches a glimmer fleeting shadow in the blade’s reflection.
“You dare think you can claim our land, Prince?” the beast spits, lips curled back in a viscous snarl.
Jimin does not grace him with a reply, instead he charges at him, hoping to catch him off guard. He is met with a crushing blow against his shield that reverberates through his entire body and is then sent flying backward when The Wolf lunges at him.
As Jimin recovers, The Wolf howls manically and the troops beside him snicker, bathing in premature glory. Jimin grits his teeth and steadies himself, looking for an opening. The memory of Yoongi in candle light flickers in his mind as he parries blow after blow, slowly being corralled toward the cliffside as they fight.
Blow after blow rings against his shield until he is crouched on the ground whispering his last prayers to the gods. The Wolf’s feet are right in front of his face and as he begs for forgiveness for his sins, he spots a fault in The Wolf’s stance. His mind clears and he hones in on it, slicing through the Wolf’s prone ankle with his sword as he is knocked flat by the weight of another blow against his shield. The Wolf howls again, but this time in pain. His eyes no longer look human and he foams at the mouth. He means to tear Jimin limb from limb and eat him for victory now.
All Jimin can do is brace himself as he is struck down at the very edge of the cliff, feeling the ground crumble beneath his shoulders. Blood fills his mouth and his body feels close to breaking. In his last moments, he can hear the roar of the waves below before The Wolf’s sword breaks through his shield, inches from his chest. He screws his eyes shut and with the last of his strength, he rolls, plunging towards the water.
He will not give The Wolf the satisfaction of killing him.
Hitting the water feels like hitting solid ground - the only way Jimin can tell he missed the rocks was that he was still alive. The air is forced out of his lungs, paralysing him. Then the panic and the deep-set fear of drowning take hold.
Water fills his lungs, trickling in with each spasm of his chest and the light fades around him as he sinks. He doesn’t want to die, but perhaps the world would be better without him as his father’s chess piece. As the final twitches and spasms ripple through his sinking body, a singular memory comforts him: the scent of petrichor, the cool touch of a spindly finger curiously caressing his cheek, the fizzle and pop of tiny purple particles bursting against his bare skin.
The final bubble of air leaves Jimin’s mouth and darkness envelops him. Something long wraps around his arms and he can feel bubbles and movement against his face. Suddenly, he feels himself being pulled upwards into a fading twilight.
He breaks through the surface and is blasted with an ear splitting scream. He gasps for air and struggles to keep afloat as whatever has grabbed him out of the water begins to swim for the rocks. His vision blacks in and out of haze and he struggles to keep his head above the water with wave after wave crashing over his weak and beaten body.
The matte black basalt of the rocks comes into view, the screeching continues. A wave washes over Jimin, smashing him against the rock, scraping barnacles across his exposed skin. True darkness takes over.
🗡⚔🗡
Jimin does not remember how he ended up in the cliffside cave. There was certainly something missing from his memory, but when he comes to, he coughs up sea water. He’s almost too weak to roll on his side to spit it out. His skin is deathly pale and he’s sure his lips have almost turned blue by the way his entire body is shivering uncontrollably.
Beside him, distraught with hideously hushed screams, is a steaming white figure, crumpled over completely.
He reaches out with shaking hands, to meet hot, wet skin. The figure releases an ear splitting howl and pulls away. Jimin weakly pushes himself upright against the cave wall and when his vision finally focuses, does not expect to come face to face with Yoongi’s glowing purple eyes. It breaks his heart to see tears streaming down Yoongi’s now-pale cheeks in a violet mess. Jimin shuffles closer, unsure if it would hurt Yoongi more to hold him. He bites the inside of his cheek to hold back his own tears.
Yoongi braved what would be Jimin’s equivalent of molten lava to save him. Yoongi – a being that he had been taught was heartless and dangerous – had shown him more kindness than any human ever did.
In the torturous hours that passed, Yoongi’s scratchy sobs eventually faded into quiet mewls and Jimin had decided he was never going back, certain he was believed to be dead. It was almost dark now and the tide had come in. Waves smashed close to the cave entrance, spraying ice cold salt water across Jimin every few moments.
Tentatively, Jimin places a trembling hand over Yoongi’s hair, feeling the enderman’s body tense for a moment before relaxing. Eventually, Yoongi shuffles closer to Jimin, still huddled over himself despite his ridiculously long extremities. The unusual heat of Yoongi’s body radiates finally seeps into Jimin’s bones and finally stops him from shivering and worrying about dying from hypothermia.
Neither of them sleep through the uneasy night. The roaring of the tide echoed through the cave and in their ears and the cold of the basalt eventually migrated through both Jimin and Yoongi, killing what little warmth Jimin had to cling onto, but likely bringing Yoongi some form of relief. By dawn, they were wrapped tightly around one another, resting their burning eyes and parched from the salt in the air.
Jimin cracks one eye open as the blessed warmth of a sun ray blooms across his cheek. The sunlight bathes the basalt wall of the far end of the cave in light. Jimin notices the wall is unexpectedly flat and smooth. He cracks his other eye open, wincing at how the dried blood from the side of his face had caked in the crease of his eye. A single glint from the far wall snatches his attention as the sun rays slowly illuminate the entire wall.
The last thing Jimin wants to do is get up and leave Yoongi’s side, but he is too curious for his own good. His slight movement is enough to draw Yoongi’s attention, but he squints painfully when he raises his head, bathing him in gold. He scrambles to the back of the cave behind a column, safe in the shadows. Jimin follows, stiff and slow, noticing the pale grey patches on Yoongi’s skin around his hands, shoulders and cheeks, where he was healing.
The glint from the wall wasn’t a gem like Jimin thought it may have been. At first, he mistook it for an emerald but upon closer inspection, it was something he had never seen before. The cave wall had been smoothed down manually and pockmarked by natural corrosion of the elements. Jimin runs his fingers along the thin lines radiating outward from the centre point toward clouds of symbols eroded by time. Other illegible details were present, but all Jimin could stare at was the captivating stone at the centre. It looked like a green cat’s eye, drawing Jimin’s attention in the most hypnotising of ways, he almost didn’t notice Yoongi right beside him.
Yoongi was also captivated, but not by the eye, by the wall. They ran their long fingers along the wall, following the soft intents of lost text, eyes wide with wonder in a way Jimin had never witnessed before. The enderman’s jaw slowly fell open and a strange humming sound emanated from the back of Yoongi’s throat – perhaps what Jimin could assume was excitement.
“What does it say?” Jimin whispers, voice broken from yesterday’s screams.
Yoongi chitters intelligently, slowly pointing to the beyond faded markings on the wall before resting a slender fingertip on the cat’s eye and dragging his claw against the rock to a figure beneath it.
“I don’t understand… What is it?”
Yoongi makes another sound, louder, more insistent this time. Jimin just stares at him unknowingly. He would give anything to be able to understand Yoongi. Meanwhile, Yoongi begins to scratch at the rock face in frustration.
“I’m sorry, Yoongi. I really am.” Yoongi ignores him and after a moment, Jimin realises he is renewing the markings on the wall with his dagger sharp claws. Beneath the cat’s eye, Yoongi had chiselled in a ring of 9 circles, one of which was filled with a cat’s eye stone. Yoongi stepped back, pointed to the cat’s eye in the centre, then the drawn eye in the ring of nine, then to himself and finally to the centre of the ring of nine.
The realisation dawns on Jimin and he feels imbued with purpose. He fumbles around his hip to find the small knife he keeps beside his now-empty sword sheath. He jams the blade between the rock and the cat’s eye stone and it comes loose with a pop . He raises his hand and offers the stone up to Yoongi, like one would offer a ring to their beloved.
“Wherever you need to go,” Jimin muses with bright eyes, “I will follow.”
Yoongi clasps Jimin’s hand in his and does not let go.
I will follow.