Chapter Text
Wooyoung is in the stables, the soft sounds of horses snorting and hay rustling filling the air around him. He moves with practiced efficiency, saddling his horse, the boy he's had forever. San wanted to get him a new one, a better and faster horse, but Wooyoung had bought him with his own money. He's proud of his horse. And training another to be calm around his magic would be a hassle.
Five days. That's how long he had told San he would be gone. It feels both too long and not nearly enough time. He had spent the entire night wrapped in the king's embrace, San snuggling against him, his warmth a comfort that Wooyoung clings to. He can still feel the imprint of San's body against his, the way he had latched on as if it would be their last moment together. The memory brings a bittersweet smile to Wooyoung's lips.
In these five days, San will be busy with preparations for his son's name day celebration. Five years old—a milestone, Wooyoung thinks, but he can't help the pang of longing that tugs at his heart. But the boy isn't his. San just has to play his part. Wooyoung has to remember that as much as San has to remember he will always come back.
He takes a deep breath, shaking off the lingering melancholy as he secures the saddle and checks the bridle. Tucked inside one of his horses pouches, is San's metal sigil he had snuck in when he first left. The intricately crafted flower embedded in the metal glimmers in the sunlight, a tangible reminder that he must come home. It's a promise, a token of San's affection, and a reminder of the prophecy that lingers in the back of his mind: two sides of the same coin.
Two sides of the same coin.
Yet Wooyoung still isn't sure who is on the other side. Yeosang or San. One or the other, they both have the potential to restore magic to the land. Whatever that means.
Wooyoung sits tall in the saddle, his horses smooth, powerful gait carrying him forward as he leaves the familiar walls of Aurora behind. The morning sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the landscape, and though summer is on the horizon, the air remains pleasantly cool, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees lining the path.
He adjusts the leather straps on his back, feeling the weight of his supplies secured there—a well-worn satchel filled with rations, maps, and a few carefully chosen items for his journey. Beside his supplies, a small bedroll is rolled tightly, promising comfort for the nights he will spend away from the warmth of San's arms. His heart twinges at the thought, but he pushes it aside, focusing instead on the path ahead.
As Wooyoung rides east, the dirt road stretches out before him, flanked by fields that shimmer under the soft light. The sound of hooves striking the ground creates a rhythmic beat, echoing his thoughts as they drift to San. The king's gentle eyes and soft voice only reserved for him. The one who lets Wooyoung travel the world, even if his eyes scream 'stay, stay, stay' but he would never voice it out loud.
The rolling hills of Aurora begin to fade into the distance, replaced by the sprawling landscape of tall grasses and wildflowers that sway with the breeze. Here and there, clusters of trees break up the horizon, offering patches of shade that beckon him to rest, but he knows he must keep moving.
The world is wide open. So many people to help and things to see. Wooyoung feels the thrill of adventure coursing through him as he rides east, the sun dipping low in the sky, painting the horizon with hues of orange and purple. The familiar path unfolds beneath him, leading to a bustling town that comes alive as day transitions into night.
As he arrives, the town hums with activity. Merchants hawk their wares, the tantalizing scents of food waft through the air, and laughter spills from taverns where patrons gather to unwind after a long day. The streets are a tapestry of vibrant colors, with stalls adorned with fresh produce and handcrafted goods, the sounds of clinking coins and animated chatter filling his ears.
Wooyoung navigates his horse through the throngs of townsfolk, maneuvering expertly to avoid bumping into anyone. He's on a mission, and his heart races with anticipation as he approaches a familiar door, its wooden surface worn but sturdy. He knocks lightly, the sound barely audible over the din of the market, but it's enough.
The door swings open to reveal Soobin, his face lighting up with recognition.
"Wooyoung!" he exclaims, his grin broadening. "You got my letter."
"Been a while," Wooyoung replies, returning the smile with one of his own, warmth blooming in his chest. It feels good to see a friendly face after the long journey.
"Put your horse in the stable—Yeonjun is going to be excited to see you." Soobin steps aside, gesturing for Wooyoung to enter. The smell of fresh hay and the sounds of gentle nickering from the stables invite him in.
"Thanks." Wooyoung replies, sliding off his horse with practiced ease. He leads her around to the stable, the comforting sounds of hooves and soft whinnies calming him. After securing him in a spacious stall and offering him a treat, he makes his way back to the front of the inn.
"Your letter said the river has been drying up," Wooyoung says, falling in step behind Soobin as they navigate through the bustling inn. "The last time I was here, it was fine. Does it have anything to do with the guy who bought the land upstream?"
"He blockaded the water," Yeonjun answers for him, appearing from behind a cluster of patrons. Wooyoung turns around, and the two exchange a quick hug, warmth flooding through him at the familiar embrace. Wooyoung has known Yeonjun for years, one of the first mages he met when he first left home.
"We don't know if he used magic to redirect the water or if it was done manually," Yeonjun continues, his expression serious as he pulls back.
"It would take a lot of effort to do it manually," Wooyoung replies, his brow furrowing as he considers the implications of such a move.
"But not impossible," Yeonjun adds, crossing his arms. His tone carries the weight of concern, and Wooyoung can see the worry etched on his face.
"What do we know about this guy?" Wooyoung presses, already brainstorming possible solutions. "Is he a local, or did he come from somewhere else?"
"He's a newcomer, but he seems to have some sway in the area," Soobin interjects, grabbing a mug of ale from a passing server. "Some think he's got connections with some darker folks from the neighboring regions."
"That's not good," Wooyoung mutters, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "If he's using magic to cut off the water supply, it could affect the entire town—and beyond. We need to find out how he's doing it."
"That's why Soobin wrote to you," Yeonjun sighs, glancing around the inn as if searching for eavesdroppers. "There have been whispers of strange occurrences upstream. Some villagers have reported seeing shadows moving near the riverbank at night."
"Shadows?" Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, intrigue piquing his interest. "You think he's got something sinister going on?"
"Could be," Soobin shrugs, his tone cautious. "We need to be careful, though. If he's capable of blocking a river, he could have more tricks up his sleeve."
Wooyoung nods, determination settling in his chest. "Alright, then let's gather more information. I'll talk with some of the villagers. Why don't the five of you head up to the lake? At least on the border to poke around."
"I'll go with you," Yeonjun adds, a determined glint in his eyes. "Soobin can take the others upstream."
"Good plan," Wooyoung agrees, grateful for Yeonjun's presence. He knows the mage's keen intuition will be an asset. "We'll meet back here before sunset to share what we find. Hopefully, we can come up with a strategy before night falls."
Soobin nods, rallying the others. "Alright, team, let's move. Stay alert and keep your magic ready, just in case."
With a final nod, Wooyoung and Yeonjun make their way out of the inn, the summer air greeting them with a gentle warmth. The town is alive with activity as they pass vendors calling out their wares and children playing in the streets.
"Where do you want to start?" Yeonjun asks, scanning the bustling marketplace.
"Let's head to the southern edge of town," Wooyoung replies, recalling a few friendly faces from previous visits. "The villagers there are usually more talkative, especially if they've been affected by the drought."
They weave through the streets, exchanging pleasantries with familiar faces, until they reach the outskirts of the village. The sound of rushing water becomes faint as they approach the area where the river should flow.
"So," Yeonjun begins, a teasing lilt in his voice, "how is your king?"
"Don't start," Wooyoung huffs, rolling his eyes.
"I am only asking about our lord liege. Don't take it so personally," Yeonjun retorts, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. Wooyoung shoves at him playfully, irritation bubbling beneath the surface.
"Calm down, no one knows...besides me."
"Yeah, and it better stay that way, or I'll have San throw you in the dungeons."
"Of course, Young-ah," Yeonjun replies, winking at him. Wooyoung chases after him, annoyed by the nickname that only San is supposed to use.
"You better watch it," he calls out, laughter mingling with his frustration.
They finally arrive at a cluster of villagers' houses, the air thick with uncertainty. A few children play nearby, but most adults are preoccupied, casting worried glances towards the distant hills. As they approach a weathered-looking man tending to a small garden, Wooyoung takes the lead.
"Good afternoon, sir. We're looking into the river situation. Have you noticed anything strange lately?"
The man pauses, wiping the sweat from his brow, his expression troubled. "Strange? More like terrifying. The water has been dwindling for weeks now. We used to fish here, but now... it's almost dry."
Yeonjun nods, his brow furrowing. "Have you seen anyone suspicious around?"
"Aye," the man replies, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting someone to overhear. "That new landowner up the hill. He's got a nasty reputation, and I've heard whispers that he's been doing something to the river."
"What kind of something?" Wooyoung presses, sensing the urgency in the man's tone.
"Some say he's using magic to divert the flow, but no one dares to confront him. He's got a group of men who look like they'd throw you into the river if you asked too many questions," the man warns, shaking his head. "We've tried to stand up to him, but he's got power."
"Thank you for your honesty," Wooyoung says, concern knitting his brow. "We need to gather more testimonies to understand what we're dealing with."
As they move from house to house, the tension thickens in the air. Villagers share similar tales of the man's strange behavior and ominous presence. Each story builds on the last, creating a grim picture of the man who holds their livelihoods in his hands.
Finally, they reach a small group of women gathered by a well, murmuring among themselves. Wooyoung approaches, careful to keep his tone respectful. "Excuse me, ladies. We're investigating the river situation. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?"
One of the women, her face lined with worry, looks up. "It's all gone wrong since that man came. He thinks he can do whatever he likes. I've seen him at night, standing by the river, chanting to himself. It's unnatural."
Yeonjun glances at Wooyoung, unease creeping into their shared silence.
"Chanting?" he repeats, letting the word hang heavy in the air.
The woman nods, her voice barely above a whisper. "We don't know what he's doing, but I swear, it's like he's calling something—something dark."
Wooyoung exchanges a look with Yeonjun, both understanding the gravity of the situation. They need to confront this man before it's too late.
"Thank you for your help," Wooyoung says, determination flooding his veins.
As they walk away, Yeonjun's expression turns serious. "What's the plan now?"
"He is a witch," Wooyoung's mind races, pieces of the puzzle falling into place. "Likely he used some sort of mix of a spell and manpower to move the river—the question is why? Why dry out an entire town?"
Yeonjun nods, absorbing the information. "That's what we need to figure out. We can't just confront him without understanding his motives. There's got to be something deeper behind this."
"We're gonna have to find Soobin and the others," Yeonjun sighs, running a hand through his hair. "They'll have more insights, and we need all the help we can get to tackle whatever this guy is planning."
"Right." Wooyoung looks back toward the village, the worry etched on the faces of its residents fueling his determination. "Let's hurry. The sooner we regroup, the sooner we can act."
They quicken their pace, retracing their steps back to the inn. Wooyoung climbs onto his horse, the familiar weight of the saddle settling comfortably beneath him. Yeonjun joins him, and together they ride upstream, their horses' hooves thudding rhythmically against the earth.
As they navigate the narrow paths, Wooyoung can hear the distant sounds of laughter and chatter from the village behind them. The air is filled with the scent of damp earth and leaves, a stark contrast to the urgency that prickles at his skin. Yeonjun's friends have devised a clever whistling system, a series of short and long notes that echo through the woods to identify one another, ensuring they can communicate without raising alarm. It's a smart tactic, especially in their densely wooded surroundings.
"Definitely a witch," Taehyun declares, his tone matter-of-fact.
"But why dry out an entire town?" Wooyoung asks, glancing around at the group, his mind racing with possibilities. The implications of their situation hang heavily in the air, thick with tension.
"We could draw him out," Soobin suggests reluctantly, his brow furrowing. "If we redirect the river ourselves, it might force him to reveal himself."
Wooyoung's eyes drift to the faded remnants of the riverbank.
"There should still be a mud path..." he murmurs, almost to himself, as he dismounts to get a closer look. The ground is uneven, marked by the faint traces of water that used to flow freely. With a keen eye, he traces the outline of the old river path, remembering how it used to meander through the landscape.
The path is still there, though it's grown over with weeds and grass, nature reclaiming its territory. Wooyoung's mind races, considering the possibilities. It wouldn't take much effort to shift the river back—it's essentially reshaping the land, something he has done countless times in Aurora to help his herbs thrive.
"You think you could do it?" Soobin asks, his voice breaking through Wooyoung's thoughts as he approaches from behind.
Wooyoung locks eyes with him, a silent agreement passing between them.
"My suggestion is you keep your boys on the main road," Wooyoung replies, firm and resolute, his voice cutting through the air with authority.
He strides to the edge of the old river path, where the water used to flow freely. Wooyoung plants his feet firmly on the ground, feeling the subtle vibrations beneath him. The earth is warm, pulsing with latent energy, as if it recognizes his intent.
Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, centering himself. He stretches out his arms, palms facing the ground, and the magic within him stirs in response. He can feel the familiar hum of power coursing through his veins, an electric current that awakens every nerve ending. He channels his focus into the earth, envisioning the water rushing back to its rightful place.
With a flick of his wrist, the ground begins to tremble. The soil shifts and buckles, creating a slight ripple that travels along the path. Wooyoung opens his eyes, and with a determined look, he gathers his energy, pulling at the very fabric of the land. It feels as if the air thickens around him, charged with anticipation.
The magic surges, and with a concentrated effort, he draws the water from the surrounding area, coaxing it to rise from the earth like a phoenix reborn.
Before his eyes, the ground erupts as water bursts forth, cascading in a sparkling rush. It flows over the newly formed banks, filling the dry riverbed with a vibrant current. Wooyoung can feel the exhilaration coursing through him as the river begins to reshape itself, each drop glistening like a jewel in the sunlight. The sound of rushing water fills the air, a symphony.
Wooyoung extends his arms wider, directing the flow with precision. The water spirals and swirls, catching the light in a mesmerizing dance. He makes it rise higher, sending waves lapping at the newly formed banks, filling the air with a mist that sparkles like diamonds in the waning light. The surrounding trees sway gently as if bowing in respect to the power he commands.
As the river continues to swell, Wooyoung feels a surge of triumph rush through him. He stands tall, no longer just a mage but a master of the elements, a protector of the land. The water flows faster now, reaching the edges of the forest, revitalizing the area that had been starved for so long. The river settles into its new path, flowing smoothly, the sound of rushing water echoing like a triumphant anthem through the trees.
"You should sit," Soobin says, approaching from behind. Wooyoung glances back at him, a bit confused, and notices the surprise in Soobin's eyes. "I forget how strong you are."
"Now we wait for our witch to show up," Wooyoung replies, looking back at the flowing water, its surface sparkling under the fading sunlight. "Doubt he'll be pleased with me."
"Just sit and wait," Soobin sighs, rolling his eyes playfully. "Isn't that what all mages are good at?"
With a soft laugh, Wooyoung shakes his head but finally concedes, lowering himself onto a nearby stone that juts out near the riverbank. The coolness of the rock seeps through his clothes, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the day. He leans back slightly, allowing himself a moment of respite, letting the sounds of nature wash over him—the rustle of leaves, the chatter of distant birds, and the soothing rush of the water.
"So, what's the plan, then?" Yeonjun asks as he joins them, standing a little ways off, still scanning the tree line for any signs of movement.
Wooyoung shrugs, trying to appear casual even as a thrill of anticipation courses through him. "We'll keep watch. He's bound to notice the water's back. The question is whether he'll come in person or send someone else."
"Let's hope it's him," Soobin adds, squatting beside Wooyoung, his expression serious. "We need to confront him about this before it escalates further."
"I wonder what he wants," Wooyoung murmurs, staring into the flowing water, his thoughts swirling like the currents. "A witch doesn't usually act without a reason. Drying up a river isn't just a show of power; it must serve a purpose."
"Like all witches, they crave something—control, influence, or perhaps something more," Yeonjun muses, glancing over his shoulder to where the path winds through the trees. "Whatever it is, it likely involves us, or this village."
"Then let's make sure he knows we're not afraid to fight back," Wooyoung says, fire igniting in his chest as he sits up straighter. He feels the energy still buzzing in his veins, a reminder of the magic he just wielded so effortlessly. "This is your town and you will defend it."
They're supposed to be keeping watch, listening and waiting, but the tension in the air gives way to playful energy as Wooyoung, Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai find themselves gathered on the riverbank, laughter bubbling up amidst their lighthearted banter.
"I call dibs on the next round." Beomgyu exclaims, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he twirls a small orb of water between his fingers. The orb glimmers under the fading sunlight, reflecting the colors of the sunset as he tosses it from hand to hand.
"Not if I get to it first." Wooyoung retorts, summoning a gust of wind that makes Beomgyu stumble back with a laugh. The wind lifts a few strands of grass and twirls them around, creating a playful little cyclone.
"Come on, Wooyoung, This is supposed to be a competition, not a derby," Yeonjun chides, though his smile betrays his enjoyment of the antics. He flicks his wrist, sending a few pebbles flying into the air, forming a small barrier around them. "Let's keep it civil, shall we?"
"Oh, please!" Taehyun smirks, conjuring tiny flames that dance at his fingertips, illuminating their faces with a warm glow. "Civility is overrated. Let's see who can create the best display."
"Alright, alright." Wooyoung grins, relishing the challenge. He focuses, gathering energy in his palms as he creates a series of shimmering lights that twist and turn like fireflies. The lights dart around the group, illuminating their laughter and camaraderie as they chase after the flickering orbs.
"Impressive," Kai chimes in, his voice enthusiastic as he summons a burst of colored smoke, creating a vibrant cloud that envelops them momentarily. When it clears, he strikes a pose, arms wide like a victorious performer.
"Alright, magician, let's see how long you can hold that," Soobin teases, sending a gentle wave of water from the river that splashes against Kai, breaking his pose and causing everyone to erupt into laughter.
Despite the warm atmosphere, Wooyoung's mind occasionally flits back to their purpose, the river's recent restoration, and the looming threat of the witch. But as he watches his friends, their carefree spirits and shared magic filling the air, he can't help but feel a sense of normalcy, a welcome distraction from the weight of their mission.
This is what he loves about being with them—his friends back home don't have magic like this. They don't understand the thrill of harnessing the elements or the camaraderie that comes from it. Here, with his fellow mages, he feels a sense of belonging, of shared experiences that tie them together.
But they aren't his home. Wooyoung feels a pang in his chest as he reflects on it. The five of them are already a handful. Soobin's letters are filled with tales of their antics, each one a mix of exasperation and affection. He complains about Kai's recklessness, Beomgyu's incessant teasing, and Taehyun's impulsive magic tricks that often result in minor chaos. Wooyoung can't help but smile as he imagines it all, even if Soobin's frustration is palpable through the ink.
Yeonjun writes to him, too, but his letters are a different kind of amusing. They're often filled with complaints about Soobin's lectures, detailing the many ways he tries to rein in the chaos of their group. Yet, woven between those complaints are hints of affection—Yeonjun's own way of expressing his care. The friendships forged in laughter and mischief linger in Wooyoung's heart like a warm glow.
Still, Wooyoung sighs, looking at the river as it rushes by. He knows where home is, a place marked by warmth, love, and familiarity. A place where Yeosang waits, with his bright smile and reassuring presence, always grounding him. Wooyoung longs for the moments spent together, Yeosang working hard as mage council and talking through issues while Wooyoung packs away remedies.
Here, with these mages, he feels a sense of adventure, a pulse of excitement that beckons him to explore. But the comfort of home, with its gentle routines and the steady heartbeat of San beside him, is a different kind of magic—one that tugs at his heart and keeps him anchored. Wooyoung longs for the moments spent together, snuggled under blankets or sharing quiet laughter over shared meals.
The sound of rustling leaves slices through their laughter, drawing Wooyoung's attention away from the game. The playful banter between him, Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai fades into a hush as they all turn their heads, ears perked up like attentive hounds. It's then that Wooyoung spots it—a flash of bright orange darting between the trees.
A fox.
It's small and quick, its fur glistening like fire against the lush greenery. But there's something more, something that makes the hairs on the back of Wooyoung's neck stand on end. He squints, trying to pin down the strange energy radiating from the creature. There's a shimmer, a flicker of magic that dances around it, wrapping around the fox like a protective aura.
"Warging," Wooyoung huffs out, his voice a mix of awe and excitement. "He's warging."
The realization hits him with the force of a thunderclap, and his heart races. The fox doesn't just run; it weaves through the underbrush with purpose, its eyes gleaming with intelligence far beyond that of a mere animal. Wooyoung feels an overwhelming urge to follow, to uncover what this magical creature is up to.
"Wait, Wooyoung!" Soobin calls after him, but he's already in motion. The game forgotten, he bursts into a sprint, his feet pounding against the earth. The others hesitate for a moment, their curiosity piqued, before they scramble to catch up with him.
Wooyoung pushes through the dense foliage, branches brushing against his skin as he tracks the fleeting fox. Each leap it takes is graceful, effortless, and he marvels at how the creature seems to dance around the obstacles of the forest floor. The distance between them narrows and widens as the fox leads him deeper into the woods.
He can feel the magic swirling around the fox, a strange allure that compels him forward. A flash of orange darts through a thick cluster of bushes, and without hesitation, Wooyoung dives after it, ignoring the pangs of branches snapping against his skin.
Wooyoung skids to a halt, the suddenness of the fox's change in demeanor catching him off guard. The vibrant orange creature spins around, teeth bared in a snarl, its hackles raised. For a heartbeat, fear clutches at his chest, but he quickly steadies himself, focusing on the surge of magic coursing through him. He holds out his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his energy crackling at his fingertips.
"I don't want to hurt you," he says, his voice steady despite the tremor of uncertainty lurking in his gut. "I'd hate to kill this vessel you worked so hard on."
The fox's growl rumbles through the air, low and fierce, a clear warning that it's not intimidated by his presence. Wooyoung can feel the tension building between them, a dance of power and instinct, and he knows he must tread carefully. Warging is rare and difficult—a skill that requires an intense bond between human and animal. To choose a fox, a creature known for its cunning and agility, speaks volumes about the kind of magic at play here.
"Take us to your human body," he demands, his voice ringing with authority. There's a flicker of recognition in the fox's eyes, as if it understands his words, weighing the merit of compliance against its instinct to flee.
For a moment, they lock eyes, Wooyoung and the fox, two beings caught in a precarious standoff. He feels the magic swirling around them, the air thickening with anticipation. The fox's growl dissipates into a low whimper, and for a fleeting moment, Wooyoung thinks he sees a flicker of understanding pass between them. With a cautious tilt of its head, the fox takes a tentative step forward, its body relaxing just a bit. Wooyoung seizes the opportunity.
The fox hesitates, glancing back as if to gauge whether Wooyoung is truly trustworthy. Then, with a quick dart of its head, it takes off again, racing through the trees with renewed purpose. Wooyoung follows closely, matching its pace, heart pounding with excitement and curiosity.
As they weave through the woods, the surroundings blur into a mosaic of greens and browns, the scent of damp earth and wildflowers filling the air. Wooyoung can't shake the feeling that he's on the cusp of something monumental—a revelation that could change everything.
Finally, the fox slows, its form gliding to a halt at the edge of a small clearing. Wooyoung skids to a stop beside it, breathless, and takes in the scene.
Before him stands a figure draped in shadows, their back turned, almost ethereal against the backdrop of dappled sunlight. The fox's body shivers slightly, as if ready to leap back, and then relaxes. It shakes off it's body and then runs off into the forest.
"Why dry out the river?" Soobin asks, panting slightly, still trying to catch up from their pursuit.
The man turns to face them fully, and Wooyoung feels an unsettling chill sweep through the clearing. His pale complexion glows unnaturally against the shadows, while his dark hair hangs in disarray, framing a face that is both alluring and dangerous. But it's his eyes—piercing blue, like the depths of a glacier—that hold Wooyoung's attention, capturing it with an intensity that makes the air around them feel electric.
"Jung Wooyoung," the man grins, a predatory smile spreading across his lips. "It is hard work getting your attention."
"You have it," Wooyoung replies, shifting his weight, his stance unwavering as he hardens his gaze. "Use it wisely."
The man chuckles softly, a sound laced with mockery.
"Tell me how one of the strongest mages of our generation has come to work for Aurora as a physician, no less. You are wasting your talents on the likes of a king who, less than a decade ago, would have had you hanged." Wooyoung's fists clench at his sides, the mention of his past striking a nerve. He knows what the man is doing—trying to provoke him, to undermine the choices he's made.
"I do what I want," Wooyoung snaps, letting a hint of his magic flare at his fingertips, a warning.
The man's smile widens, amusement dancing in his piercing blue eyes as he observes Wooyoung's defiance. "Ah, but isn't it interesting? You're willing to bend your knee to a king who has tasted your kind's blood. It's almost tragic, really. A powerful mage reduced to a healer, while the world outside is rife with chaos."
Wooyoung's heart races, an anger igniting within him. He wants to tell this man that San has never made him kneel. Not once. That San respects him, values him as a partner rather than a subordinate. It's never been about power.
"What do you want?" Wooyoung demands, his voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside him.
"You are wasting your potential," the man leans in closer, his voice a silken whisper that drips with temptation. "For some kingdom that reduces you to what? To nothing but a healer, on the same level as that stupid physician."
Wooyoung narrows his eyes, refusing to let the man's words take root.
"It was you," Wooyoung breathes, a sickening realization washing over him. "You hurt Yeosang."
"Ah, I only helped you see the truth," the man shrugs, his tone flippant. "They make you doubt everything about your power, Wooyoung. You could have helped him from the start, and yet—"
"Take them home, Soobin," Wooyoung cuts through the air coldly, his heart racing as he feels the weight of the situation.
"Wooyoung," Soobin warns, concern etched across his face, but Wooyoung doesn't waver.
"You said it yourself: you forget how strong I am," Wooyoung states, locking eyes with the witch, a fire igniting in his chest. "He is going to find out."
As they retreat, Wooyoung doesn't take his eyes off the witch, the air between them thick with unspoken threats and challenges. He knows he's stepped onto a battlefield of wills, and he's ready to fight for what he believes in. The moment the others are gone, it's just him and the witch, the tension electrifying the space between them.
"You disrupted the river to get my attention," Wooyoung accuses, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions. "Just to fight me? To show off how strong you are?"
The witch leans back slightly, an amused smirk dancing on his lips.
"You are better off alone," he enunciates with a mocking lilt. "Isn't that why you come and go from Aurora? You know you're poison, so you wean them off, only to come back full force days later. It's torture, really."
"Enough," Wooyoung growls, fists clenching at his sides. "I am done discussing this, and if you continue to press, I will kill you where you stand."
"Then my fate has been chosen," the witch shrugs, unfazed, his demeanor infuriatingly calm. "Just like yours already has."
With that, the air around them shifts, charged with raw energy. Wooyoung feels the surge of magic like a living thing, thrumming against his skin. He channels his power, drawing on the depths of his training, and with a flick of his wrist, he sends a wave of shimmering energy toward the witch.
The witch responds almost instantly, his own magic weaving through the air in a serpentine dance. The two forces collide in a brilliant explosion of light and shadow, illuminating the clearing around them. Wooyoung narrows his focus, deflecting the witch's spell with a shield of golden light, the impact rattling his bones but pushing him further into his resolve.
He spins on his heel, redirecting his energy into a spiraling burst of flames that engulfs the witch.
But the witch is quick, dodging to the side and sending a pulse of dark energy hurtling toward Wooyoung. He barely manages to block it, the force knocking him backward, but he steadies himself, determination etched on his face.
"Your magic is strong," the witch hisses, frustration creeping into his voice. "But it's clouded by your ties."
The ground trembles beneath him, energy crackling in the air as he gathers the light around him, forming it into a spear of pure energy.
"You are nothing!" the witch roars, extending his hands to conjure another dark spell, but Wooyoung is faster. With a final shout, he thrusts the spear of light forward, piercing through the witch's defenses and striking him squarely in the chest.
The witch gasps, eyes widening in disbelief as the light consumes him, his body disintegrating into a shower of sparks and shadows. Wooyoung watches as the remnants of the witch fade into the air, leaving behind only silence.
Breathing heavily, Wooyoung stands alone in the clearing, the echo of their battle ringing in his ears. He's won, but the victory feels hollow. The weight of the confrontation lingers, the words of the witch echoing in his mind. As the remnants of the magic dissipate, he feels a pang of loss—not just for the witch, but for the reminder of what he might lose if he isn't careful.
Wooyoung gulps as he marches back to his horse, the forest settling into a tense quiet behind him. He can still feel the dark echoes of the battle, as if the ground itself remembers the clash. The others had left, just like he told them, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the prickling unease that the witch's words had stirred up.
He digs through his horse's saddlebags, hands brushing past his supplies until he finds it—the metal sigil San had given him. He turns it over in his fingers, the familiar weight of it grounding him. It's slightly bigger than a coin, engraved with San's kingdom's crest, a delicate flower embedded in its center. It's a reminder of everything San expects him to return to, everything that waits for him at home.
But the witch's words echo through his mind: poison.
Wooyoung clenches the sigil, a bitter lump forming in his throat as the visions from the goblin resurface. The two chalices, a warning of betrayal or loss. He doesn't know yet if it's a curse or a warning, but it feels like it's burrowing under his skin, his heartbeat uneasy and raw. For now, he climbs on his horse and rides back to Soobin's inn, glad there will be some familiar faces waiting for him.
He holds the sigil in his hands, flipping it over and over, feeling the cool metal press against his fingers. Each side gleams faintly in the dim light, and no matter how many times he turns it, he can't shake the feeling that it's mocking him with its silent, unyielding surface. Two sides of the same coin. The words drift through his mind, steady as a heartbeat, haunting him.
He traces the flower embedded on one side—the symbol of Aurora, and of San. It's a reminder of the life he's built, of the people he's vowed to protect, yet it feels heavier tonight.
The prophecy had never given him clarity, only questions. Who is on the other side? Yeosang or San? Wooyoung knows it was San he saw in the vision, but that only lead him to more questions.
As dawn breaks, Wooyoung rises from the stiff inn bed, his bones weary yet his resolve sharpened. He makes quick work of packing, slipping the sigil into his pocket before saddling his horse in the early light. With the chill of morning air pushing him forward, he sets off again, heading east.
The third day finds him pushing his pace, barely stopping to rest as he races against time. He knows San will be counting the days, each one heavier than the last, and Wooyoung is determined to keep his promise to return in five. Eastward, the landscape blurs past him, fields fading into thick forests, and rivers snaking away into distant lands.