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jofulforbangpink · 9 months ago

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Great storyline

35 | Legends of Darlaria

⨰ summary: You wake up in yet another unfamiliar place. This time, however, these strangers seem to recognize you. With your previous judgments and aspirations thrown out the window, you're now forced to face where your loyalties really lie. Who will you betray? And which General will you choose to stand by his side?

⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15

⨰ genre: 70% angst, 30% fluff | war!au & magic!au

⨰ warnings: profanity, descriptions of injury and war

⨰ wordcount: 5.5k

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⧖⧗Many, Many Circas Ago⧗⧖

Time flew by quicker than you could comprehend. Before you knew it, you and Hajin were several circas away from graduating. It didn’t feel believable, considering you were only 14 when you joined the program. You were 19 now, the same age Jungkook was when he met you.

Five years.

That was quite a hefty bit of time, yet strangely, it didn’t feel that way at all. But then again, when you looked back on all the memories you made during those five years, they felt enough to fill a decade.

Sometimes, it made you wonder if the moments you spent right now would end up in your chamber of recollection years into the future. You knew for sure that Hajin’s excited (and near-daily) speeches about her approaching 18th birthday would be seared into your memory.

“It needs to come quicker,” she would always say. “I’m not allowed to go to battle until I’m 18, guys! Isn’t that so stupid? Sometimes Dad is so overprotective, ugh!” She’d huff. “Oh, but it’s still so, so close! Just a few more circas! My life goal of avenging my mother, guys!” she’d say, jumping up and down and grasping your hands. “It’s just right there! Oh, Y/N! The day we go off to our first battle together will be the day that my life will be complete! I can’t wait to kick Darlaean ass!”

Jungkook would never really comment on it to Hajin’s face, but you knew he didn’t believe in vengeance. I don’t get it, he had confided to you privately, late at night in the orchard. Who is she really inflicting revenge on? It’s not like she knows who killed her mother.

He made a good point, which he always did, but you understood Hajin as well. She hated the Solarians—she always made that clear. She was never looking to get revenge on any specific person; instead, she wanted revenge on the group of people who happened to have produced the soldier who murdered her mother. Maybe if you and Jungkook were close to your parents as Hajin was close to hers, you would want to do the same.

So, you thought it was honorable for your best friend to do what she did for her dead mother, and you also thought it was honorable that Jungkook fought for a place where he would finally belong. He’d already made a name for himself amongst the cadets.

But then again, so had you.

You whipped your head around so hard that if you hadn’t been so focused on your three targets, you would’ve completely knocked the wind out of yourself. Seokjin was charging at you with full force from your right, Taehyung was preparing to haul a heavy weight at you on your left, then Jisun was in mid-air at your center, ready to deliver a hard kick to your head.

Your ears rang as you dodged Jisun’s kick, squatting to the ground. Then, with the technique that General Son taught you himself, you swept your outstretched leg across and managed to trip both Taehyung and Seokjin. While Seokjin kept his balance, stumbling slightly, Taehyung tumbled to the ground, nearly dropping the heavy weight on his foot.

“Didn’t see that coming!” Taehyung huffed out, though he had a rather boxy grin on his face. Almost lazily, he brushed himself off, taking all the time in the world to grab a metal fork on the ground and size-shifting it so it was the size of a large dagger. “Come on now, there’s three of us and one of you!”

“Principle of dueling, Taehyung,” Seokjin reminded the younger man as he strategically moved to your blind spot with Jisun right behind him. “Minimize talking, maximize attacking.”

“But you were talking just now!” Taehyung pouted. He rolled his eyes when he caught sight of Seokjin’s unimpressed look. “Fine.”

All three of them lunged at you again, and this time, you dodged to the side, sweat flying off of your neck. You were panting heavily, not having expected this duel to last as long as it had. Stamina was never really your strong suit, and everybody knew that. You could just see Seokjin calculating your weaknesses behind those hard eyes of his. In many ways, he almost reminded you of Jungkook—but then again, Seokjin never had that gentle side that Jungkook revealed to you many times. But perhaps that was because you didn’t know him well enough. There had to be more to him than his stickler-for-rules-like personality. Or perhaps, that’s just who he was as a person and you were in no place to judge.

But wait a minute.

Focus! you scolded yourself. You’re in a fucking duel!

Yes, the duel. You needed to end it, but you also weren’t quite sure if you could accomplish three successful maskings at once. Of course, you’ve done it plenty of times in practice, but that was when your heart wasn’t beating in your head a little too loudly and the world wasn’t spinning madly around you.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Jisun side-stepping to prepare a kick to your side. Seokjin was picking up a prop from the ground, and Taehyung had already masked a gigantic ladle and was ready to hurl it at you. You didn’t have much time.

Which meant there certainly wasn’t enough time for you to start doubting yourself.

Jisun’s foot was inches away from your face now.

Use what you’ve practiced! your head was screaming at you.

What if it doesn’t work? you yelled back.

Oh, come on, don’t think like that.

The last part had been in Jungkook’s voice. He had made a habit of saying that to you in your self-doubt moments and hearing it made you feel a little better. You could almost imagine that proud look on his face when you hypothetically emerged from this duel victorious.

The imagination was short-lived, however. You just barely dodged Jisun’s kick, the force of it so strong that you could hear the wind whoosh near your head. You stumbled back a few steps, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

You can do it, Y/N.

Were you imagining his voice?

No, that was him.

Tap, tap, tap… Tap, tap.

You could recognize the rhythm of monocode anywhere.

Right. You had an audience. Jungkook was watching you, along with Hajin and General Son. He was rooting for you.

You can do it, he repeated, tapping steadily on his sword trinket. You can do it.

The repetition of his words made you want to believe it; you could do it. You could duel three other cadets and still emerge victorious; you could show General Son how capable you were. You could confirm to him that you had what it took to graduate.

Steady breaths, now.

You nodded and focused your breathing. You couldn’t hear anything anymore, save for the sound of your heart beating in your chest. Your eyes closed and your breathing steadied. Then, you let your imagination run wild.

By the time you opened your eyes, your opponents were in three wildly different predicaments. Jisun was screaming, clawing at her eyes, which had turned into two shining green gems that shared an uncanny likeness to her birthstone. Taehyung was running around in circles, though he wasn’t covering much distance as he was now the size of a well-fed rat. And Seokjin, well, his legs had collapsed underneath him, transparent and wobbling like jello—well, as jello, really.

“Y/N!” Taehyung yelled, but it came out as more of a squeak.

You did it, Jungkook spelled out in monocode.

I did it, you tapped your fingers on your arm.

There was nothing much your opponents could do as everybody quickly found out that no cadet had the skills to reverse your alchemy. Your three opponents promptly surrendered—humbly, too. Immediately, you lifted the maskings.

“Well, we tried,” Taehyung snorted, patting your back. He was always a good sport, though this must’ve been about the hundredth time you beat him in a duel. You were supposedly graduating with him in several circas—unless he graduated first. You had a feeling Hoseok wanted to hold onto you and his daughter for a little while longer. “At this rate, I won’t ever be able to beat you, Y/N!”

“I will say though, I did not enjoy having my legs turned into jelly,” Seokjin admitted with a frown.

“Yeah? Well, try having your eyes turned into emeralds!” Jisun laughed. “Who would’ve ever thought?”

Seokjin shook his head, though now, there was a small smile on his lips. Then, he turned around and saluted you, two fingers pressed to his forehead. “I’ve trained for two more years than you,” he said, keeping his posture impossibly rigid. “But you beat me time and time again.”

That was true. Seokjin was also quite the veteran in the Cadet Corps and was a Botswana Agate alumnus as well. He also happened to be three years older than you, but he respected you just as much as one would respect General Son. It was always admirable how seriously he took his training; there were even rumors that he would be promoted to a private as soon as he graduated, which was only in a couple of circas, the same as Jungkook.

“You’re ranked third, Seokjin,” you reminded the man with a reassuring smile. “Besides, you’re a Botswana alumnus. Stop saluting me, you’re making me nervous!”

“He’s just practicing for the future,” Taehyung snorted. “When you become the General one day.”

“Oh, that’s not going to happen,” you said, cheeks heating up. “There are far more qualified people.” By people, you mostly meant Jungkook. Hell, even Seokjin himself would make a better General than you.

As you walked back to the stands where a proud-looking Jungkook and Hajin were waiting for you, you nervously anticipated General Son’s feedback. He looked unimpressed as usual, but he wasn’t frowning, so it looked like you hadn’t done too horribly—you’d won the duel, after all. Yet with General Son, simply winning was never enough.

His black eyes pierced into yours as he cleared his throat. “Agile movements,” he began, nodding approvingly. “Good recognition of attack patterns. Subpar stamina, however. Especially don’t daydream while in battle; don’t waste your energy. And closing your eyes before casting your hexes is an inadequate practice, cadet.”

“I’ll work on that, sir,” you said.

“I see you’ve created a couple of new hexes,” he continued.

“Yes, sir.”

“Interesting,” he commented. “Not very lethal, are they?”

You weren’t sure if he was asking a rhetorical question, but to be safe, you simply nodded. “Yes, sir.”

General Son stared at you for a bit, which suddenly made you painfully aware of the sweat dripping down your back. You were itching to scratch your nose too, but in his gaze, it felt like you should be frozen in place. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the General turned away to face your boyfriend. “Jungkook, you’re up.”

Immediately, the tension left your shoulders.

“Here,” Hajin whispered as you took a seat next to her, facing the arena. She handed you a handkerchief.

“Thanks,” you whispered back, dabbing at your sweat with the cloth.

“He was way nicer to you than he was with me,” Hajin giggled quietly. “That means you did really well, so don’t sweat it!”

It was a little too late for that, the back of your uniform was already drenched in sweat, but Hajin’s words were still quite encouraging. Yet, no matter how many times you dueled, you always got a little nervous before each one—even though you knew you were capable of winning. And even after the duel—especially after private duels where only the General was in attendance—the anxiety never left. Mainly because you never knew the kind of feedback you would get. And even when you got feedback, sometimes you had a hard time interpreting it.

Jungkook and Hajin, on the other hand, were never nervous before or after their duels. They never took their feedback personally either, which you wished you could do.

You and Hajin watched as Jungkook stepped into the arena, not a single look of doubt on his face. His sword was swinging from his belt as he stood, the studded sapphire twinkling in the sunlight. His eyes swept across the arena as he sized up his three opponents. They looked terrified, rightfully so. Jungkook’s duels were intense, and even that would be an understatement.

When the duel commenced, you held your breath. Even Hajin, who normally cheered everyone on during duels, was quiet. Both of you watched Jungkook move with the wind.

He was quick, and no one could ever predict where he would be next.

His whims were violent, and if the opponents hadn’t had their lightning-quick reaction times, they would’ve been injured—maybe even worse. He had them scrambling left and right until he backed them up against the wall and forced them to surrender, just as he did with all of his previous opponents. He had the stamina to fight for longer, but he never toyed with his opponents; he won quickly, not because he was afraid, like you, but because he found it easy to do so.

Even so, General Son always had critiques. “Don’t turn your back on your opponents. Ever. Cadet, I thought you would know better. Your whims lack finesse; they’re messy, do you understand? Just because you use light magic doesn’t mean you are allowed to be sloppy. And don’t wave your sword around like it’s some rapier. You are not a swordsman; you are an alchemist. Act like one.”

Jungkook stood still, taking all of the feedback in. He normally never took these comments personally, but today, he was staring at his feet, a dark cloud cast over his face.

“Yes, sir,” he said, but he sounded frustrated.

“Hello, cadet. Sit down, yes, there, that’s fine.”

After saluting him, you carefully sat across from the General’s desk, resting at the very edge of the wooden chair. “Hello, sir. You, um, called for me?”

He had no papers out, which was strange. He always did when he called you into his study for your weekly private lessons.

General Son folded his hands and placed them on his desk; you stared, wondering if you were in any trouble. Perhaps he wanted to privately scold you for what you’d done in the three-way duel today. Perhaps you had done worse than you thought. Perhaps he was going to comment on the mediocracy of your assignments; perhaps they weren’t up to par with his standards, and he wanted to knock some sense into you. Perhaps—

“—for the battlefield.”

You blinked. “S-Sorry, sir?”

“I said, you’re ready for the battlefield, cadet.”

Your eyes widened. That was the last thing you had expected to hear from him. The world began to spin as you attempted to process General Son’s words. You tried to steady yourself, tried to get words out of your mouth, but you were unable to speak.

“You’re ready,” General Son repeated. “Do you not think so, cadet?”

You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you blurted out the first thing that popped into your head: “But s-sir, I-I still have several circas left before graduation!”

“It does not matter,” he said. “I want you to graduate alongside Cadet Kim Seokjin and Cadet Jungkook. If need be, I will convince his majesty to let you go. I know how much he wants you and his daughter to stay in the 12th city.”

A thousand thoughts were whizzing through your head. Ready for the battlefield? How? You barely felt ready yourself! To graduate after all of these years… Shouldn’t you be happy? Five years was far longer than the time any other cadet spent in the program. So why was there a sinking feeling in your stomach?

“B-But I—I mean, but sir, today, you said it yourself that my hexes aren’t lethal enough.”

General Son nodded. “I did say that, yes. And it is true, cadet. My taste in charms is more akin to your boyfriend’s. But you must understand that this particular war is about taking ground. Of course, the easiest way to do that would be to kill, but I have no qualms about your method. Clearly, it works.”

“B-But…” You began nervously tugging at your necklace. You couldn’t graduate early. Hajin was counting on you! You promised you would march into your first battle together. She would be devastated if she found out that you were going to leave her alone in the 12th city. You couldn’t do that to her.

And maybe there was another, bigger reason you didn’t want to graduate early. Maybe it was that horrible, twisting feeling in your gut that seemed to eat away at your insides. Maybe it was the urge to vomit whenever someone even mentioned the gruesome details of the battlefield. Maybe it was the occasional nightmares, too, where the battlefield presented itself as one large arena and the entire Solarian army was your opponent.

You didn’t know what to say. But you knew you couldn’t tell him you were apprehensive.

“Tell me the truth, cadet,” General Son said. “There must be a reason you’re so hesitant.” When you looked reluctant to tell him, he sighed. “I will not judge you. I want to know why.”

You looked down at your hands folded in your lap. You could tell him half of the truth. Yes, that seemed like the right move to make. “I promised to graduate with Hajin, sir,” you said, slowly, carefully and, most of all, with remorse. “I promised to march into our first battle together. I know it sounds silly… I’m sorry, sir. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

General Son raised his eyebrows. You thought for a second that he realized you weren’t giving him the full story. But how could he? You didn’t give a reason to suspect otherwise. So you thought he might berate you and call you insolent or yell some sense into you so you could change your mind, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I promised myself I wouldn’t rob you of the joys of your early life,” the General said, eyebrows furrowing. “It’ll only get harder from here.”

You wanted to ask what he meant by that, but you were too scared to, not after you’d just rejected his perfect offer to fight for Darlae; any other cadet would’ve jumped at this sort of opportunity. You felt guilty for not taking it.

But General Son was wise. He knew what he was talking about. And though he never called his cadets young or naïve to their faces, his sheer wisdom made them realize their deficiencies anyway. In a way, it was also possible he knew you weren’t telling him everything. Perhaps he already saw straight through you; perhaps he knew you were afraid and didn’t want to embarrass you. Although, sparing someone from embarrassment wasn’t exactly something you ever imagined General Son would do.

“Hoseok wants you and Hajin to stay out of the battlefield until autumn,” General Son said. “You’re saying you will wait for six circas?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He stared at you without a single change in expression. “Very well.”

You found Jungkook in your normal spot in the orchards that night. He was sulking a little, back hunched over as he sat on the grass, staring at his shoes. Jungkook was always one to mind his posture, so to see him stooped over like that meant he wasn’t in a good mood. It was rare to see him outwardly so disappointed, and you had a rather good inkling about what this could be about.

Quietly, you sat next to him, leaning on his shoulder. He didn’t move, only continued to stare at his shoes.

“You know General Son doesn’t give out many compliments,” you said. “You shouldn’t worry.”

Jungkook sighed. “He doesn’t seem to have a problem dishing out compliments for you, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened. “He said my magic’s not lethal enough. And he knows I have shit stamina, too.”

“Yeah? Well, he likes you better,” was Jungkook’s curt reply.

You frowned, eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t know about that… Look, it shouldn’t matter who General Son likes more, don’t you think? We’re all going to war, anyway.”

“Yes, but…” Jungkook paused, finally looking at you with his soft doe eyes. Tonight, they were filled with disappointment, of a slight twinge of dissatisfaction. “But have you ever considered who General Son’s successor would be?”

You blinked. Of all of the things you overthought about, never once have you considered who would be the next General of the Darlaean Army. It felt so far away… a switch that would happen in decades.

“When he dies, you’ll be named the new General,” Jungkook said, matter-of-factly.

You frowned. Did he read a few of his runes again? Why did he sound so sure about something that seemed almost impossible? You could never be the next General. You were definitely not what General Son was looking for; he said it yourself that you weren’t lethal enough. You lacked stamina and charisma, too. If anything, you always thought Jungkook would be the next ideal General. He was almost exactly like General Son, anyway—in fighting style, strategy and personality.

“I… I could never be the General,” you said, shaking your head. “It just doesn’t… I don’t know, General Son’s only training me so I could possibly become a private one day. I’m only good at battle plans, Jungkook. I don’t have what it takes to be the sole leader of an entire army. I think you have what it takes to be the next General, though. I’ve told you that before, and I’m telling you again.”

Jungkook just shook his head. “I may have the traits, but I’m not what General Son is looking for. At most, I’ll become a Lieutenant General.”

Your mouth opened to question the assurance in his voice, but he stood right up, offering his hand to help you up as well. “Let’s take a walk,” he said before you could get a word out. “I need to clear my head.”

It was times like this when you realized how ambitious Jungkook really was. It was no secret that he dreamed of becoming the General of the Darlaean Army one day; he didn’t have many obstacles to achieving that dream, either. He was already getting private lessons from General Son; every cadet and some soldiers from the 1st city knew his name. He was insanely talented and easily the best dueler in the squadron. The thought that you might be an obstacle never even crossed your mind.

But he was frustrated, and you knew how much he wanted to be the best version of himself. It was simply a part of his journey.

You tried to understand.

Nearly two years into your relationship with Jungkook, your parents finally somehow found free time out of their busy schedules to meet him. You were nervous, wondering if they were going to approve, or worse: if they would even care about him at all. Jungkook, on the other hand, was overjoyed to meet them.

“They asked for me,” he kept saying the entire way to your parents’ fancy home. “They specifically told you they wanted to meet me!” He wore his best clothes, though they were slightly offset by the sword he kept around his belt. “I hope they like me,” he said. When he noticed you tugging anxiously at your necklace, he interlaced his fingers with yours; the coolness of his hand helped ease some of your stress. “Hey, it won’t be the end of the world if they hate me or something. I’ll work on what they tell me to fix.”

But it turned out that your parents saw no flaws in your boyfriend whatsoever. In fact, it almost seemed like they liked him more than you. You told them a while ago in passing that Jungkook was an innate divinist, but you didn’t think they’d care so much that they’d gift the two of you matching divination-charmed canvases.

You stared at your canvas in confusion. The deep purple threads undulated like the waves of the Sapphire Lake; it was pretty, but you had no idea how to read it. Jungkook, on the other hand, was delighted.

“I’ve always wanted one of these,” he said with a genuine smile. He rarely smiled like that in front of people he just met. “Thank you.”

One hour in, he was already calling your parents by their first names.

Two hours in, your parents were practically swooning over him and asking him when he would become their son-in-law.

Three hours in, they were devastated when they found out he was going to battle in just two circas.

“You have to take care of yourself, honey,” Ma told him. “Oh, I wish you had chosen another career… You would truly shine as a royal divinist.”

Jungkook just smiled, shaking his head. “It takes patience to become a scholar,” he said. “I commend you for the research you’ve done, but I want to help your daughter fight for our nation’s liberty from this harrowing war.” He spoke so eloquently, in the kind of scholarly language that you knew your parents would fall head over heels for.

“Even risking your own life?” Mother asked. She was frowning, but she didn’t necessarily look like she disapproved—only a tad bit worried. “What a brave young man.”

“Our nation is lucky to have someone like you on our side,” Ma gushed.

A spike of annoyance shot through you, though you tried to chase that feeling away immediately. But you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking scornfully, What about me?

“I’m sure you can see it too, Sura,” Mother said, nodding in approval. “This man has the makings of a king.”

“Yes, of course, Eunbi!” Ma nodded. “I can see it as clear as day. He must be able to see it too.”

“Such a splendid thing, divination is.”

Jungkook’s eyes sparkled.

You couldn’t wait to go back to the training grounds.

It was now Circa Ruby and Hajin’s birthday was just around the corner. But neither of you felt too festive. Jungkook had gone off to battle, moved entirely to the 1st city, and you were worried sick, while Hajin couldn’t wait to hear about his experience.

“We’ll be out there doing the same in Circa Opal!” Hajin said, grasping your hands excitedly. “I can’t wait, Y/N! Oh, I really can’t wait! Can time go any faster? I might die in anticipation!”

Conversely, you hoped Circa Opal would never come.

You knew what the Solarians were capable of. You’ve visited the infirmary wing so many times that you’ve completely lost count. If anything happened to Jungkook, you didn’t know what you would do… He was only 21; much too young to have his life cut short. You didn’t want him to suffer.

Now, everything felt so real… Going to battle wasn’t just a simple phrase, it was an action that could get you killed. And you didn’t want to die—not from asphyxiation, not from burn wounds, not from being lit on fire. It terrified you so much. You thought about being burned to death so often that you dreamed about it, sometimes waking up in your private chambers in the castle screaming and sweating.

You hated it. Why were you so afraid? Why couldn’t you be brave like the others?

And even worse, the thought of someone else’s blood spilling on your hands… It was horrifying. It didn’t matter if they were the enemy; the Darlaeans and Solarians looked indistinguishable. It would feel like you were killing your own people. Your skin crawled just thinking about it. Unfortunately, you thought about it quite often, especially when Jungkook finally found the time to come back from the 1st city and had a plethora of battlefield stories to tell.

“And then,” he said, making a slicing motion with his hand, “I completely severed his arm off!”

Hajin gasped, her eyes turning wide as she looked ready for him to say more. You felt like throwing up.

“It was amazing,” Jungkook said, his doe eyes sparkling. “The adrenaline rush, charging forward in perfect formation, paving my own path ahead… I would do it over and over and over again. Needless to say, we won the last few battles we’ve had over this past week,” he said quite proudly. “I heard the enemy forces have been retreating. Too many casualties.”

“Damn right, those helluvians should be retreating!” Hajin said, pumping her fist in the air. “You’re so lucky, Jungkook.”

“Hm, I suppose,” he replied. “They’re thinking about promoting me to private soon.”

“It’s only been a week!” Hajin gushed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m happy for you!”

You were proud, too. But soon after, worry superseded that sentiment.

Jungkook spent most of his time in the 1st city now, as a soldier, soon to be private. You only got to see him during the weekends, when he came back for his lessons with General Son. For days, you were left in the dark about his well-being and it scared you to think he could be dead at any second and you wouldn’t even know. At one point, you were so worried that you hung the charmed canvas your parents gifted you on your ceiling and attempted to read it. But you were never good at divination, and those enigmatic swirls of thread never meant anything to you.

Every time he came back from his duty in the 1st city, Hajin bombarded him with questions. You stood to the side, looking him over for any cuts and bruises. But he always came back unscathed.

“Are you ever tired?” you asked him once, while the two of you took a walk in the orchard. He was now a private, with control over subordinates, and got to report to a sergeant. “Is it ever tiring?”

“No,” Jungkook said, cocking his head. “I feel… awakened.”

Awakened…

You were silent for so long that Jungkook had to gently tap on your arm, You’re worried. Talk to me.

Of course you were worried. You were worried about his safety, your damn safety when you eventually marched off to battle, and hurting people who didn’t deserve it—even if they were the enemy… You hesitated. Would he judge you for all of these worries? Would he even understand? Would he condemn you for being weak? No, Jungkook would never do that. He loved you.

“I don’t know if I can ever do it,” you whispered. You didn’t know what else to say.

Miraculously, Jungkook seemed to understand. At least partly. “You don’t have to kill anyone if you don’t want to,” he said gently. “I just find it easier.”

“Easier?” Your voice raised an octave, although you didn’t really mean to do it.

He turned to you, an unreadable look on his face. “It’s a war,” he said. “It becomes easier when you realize that if you don’t kill them first, they’ll kill you.”

“I don’t understand,” you said. “If the war is about gaining territory, then why do we kill?”

“You know why,” he said. And you did; you and he have read hundreds of books about politics and warfare. But perhaps you had to hear it from him, and he realized that. “What would we do with all of those prisoners? It’s unsustainable to keep them all. What if they escaped? If we don’t kill on the battlefield, we’re not affecting the enemy’s forces. They’ll come back again and again with full force, and we’ll tire ourselves out. We can’t believe that they’re human, Y/N.”

You understood what he was saying, and you knew you had to agree. But… There was something else in the back of your mind. The lurking trepidation that visited you in your dreams and manifested itself as a black hole in your guts. It was something that you weren’t ready to share just yet—not even with someone you loved; it was simply too humiliating. So, you settled for a defeated, “Yeah… That makes a lot of sense.”

“But you don’t have to kill,” he reassured you once more. “With your talent, you won’t need to.”

You tried to smile. “Right… Thanks, Jungkook.”

“No problem,” he said, but he was frowning.

You know you can tell me everything, right? his eyes were saying.

I know, you thought. I know.

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⨰ a/n: i refused to be a day late again!! here it is :)) drama will ensure soon hehe

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jofulforbangpink · 9 months ago

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06 | Legends of Darlaria

⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nation—otherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.

⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15

⨰ genre: 70% angst, 30% fluff | war!au & magic!au

⨰ warnings: mentions of death

⨰ wordcount: 6.3k

⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)

⨰ a/n: thank you to @the-berry-named-ari for beta-reading <3

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⧖⧗Circa Zircon⧗⧖

Wintertime finally catches up to Alder. Blankets of snow cover the grass, even decorating the tops of the scarlet tents scattered about the terrain. Soldiers stay inside their homes, lighting their own fires and rubbing their hands together to keep warm. Snow falls steadily from above, veiling the last of the autumn colors with whiteness.

But the cold does not stop the war.

With a swift movement of your hand, you splay out your latest battle plans, the various papers fluttering for a second before settling down on the wooden table—spread out, like a falcon’s wings.

You clear your throat, delicately placing the back of your hand over your mouth as you do so. “There’s a lot to go over today,” you say. The officers nod, agreeing with your words. As per your routine, you survey each and every one of them, taking a mental note of their facial expressions and attitudes for the day.

Strange.

There’s a face missing in the crowd.

You wonder what kind of emergency made Captain Im miss a very mandatory officer meeting. Maybe the General sent her on another trip to Elu for whatever reason he found important. Or maybe she’s running a little late. The meeting’s only been going on for a few minutes. Maybe she has some last-minute fourth sector business to take care of. Or maybe she’s healing in the medical tent? But if she was, the General would’ve announced something at the beginning of the meeting.

You glance at him, and to your surprise, your eyes meet. He looks at you expectantly—as if he’s waiting for you to say something.

It’s then that you realize that you’re supposed to be presenting your battle plans. Awkwardly, you clear your throat again. “S-So! Um, yes, first and foremost, if we can get some earth mediums here,” you say, tracing a particular formation with your index finger, “then we could—”

“Forgive me for interrupting!” A red-faced Captain Im rushes into the central tent.

So there she is.

Her jet black hair, which is usually neatly combed, is in visible disarray as she pants, trying to catch her breath. She waves a cream-colored paper—a letter in the air.

Everyone pauses to stare at her, wide-eyed.

“A message?” the General asks.

You cock your head. Who could it be from? It must be important enough to get Captain Im—who is usually exceptionally calm—teeming with excitement. Her eyes sparkle as she uncharacteristically slams the paper on the wooden table. The movement causes some of your battle plans to disperse across the table, but nobody minds. Instead, everyone leans in synchronously to squint at the writing etched onto the letter. “A message from the Darlaean General!” Captain Im announces. “They’ve agreed to call a temporary truce for the rest of winter!”

You blink. You blink again. Then you’re suddenly gasping with happiness, along with your fellow officers. Someone pats your back and another person links their arm around yours. Others are crowding around and hugging Captain Im for delivering the news. Some even cry tears of joy. It surprises you to see so much emotion on their faces. The officers are usually so incredibly stoic—so stern and serious. Through the corners of your eyes, you catch Major Ki and Captain Chu sharing a passionate kiss, and you even see Captain Yoo slapping Captain Chang on the back while grinning so hard that you can see his whisker dimples. But you suppose that they’re just as human as everyone else. When someone bears good news, and the news is as good as this, they can’t help but celebrate.

The battle plans are long forgotten.

“They’ve never accepted our offers before!” Doyun exclaims as she tightens her grip on your arm. She looks incredibly happy, eyes wide and sparkling as her mouth sets in a wide grin.

Never? Amidst the celebration, you begin to wonder… Are they only accepting a temporary truce now that they’re losing? If so, what will it take for them to agree on a permanent truce?

The cheering officers begin to lift Captain Im up on their shoulders, and that action alone brings you back to reality.

You let out a small sigh. This is the time to celebrate; there’s no place for doubt.

So you join the happy crowd, a semi-worry-free smile on your face.

The night before the soldiers are permitted to visit their families back home, there is a feast. Rumor has it that the General pulled some strings and brought over the king’s chefs from Elu. There are piles and piles of steaming rice, heavy pots of spicy soups and endless bowls of delectable side dishes. Soldiers eat until they can consume no more. But they drink like their stomachs are bottomless pits. They stumble about inside the large medical tent, drunk smiles on their faces, slapping their friends’ backs and talking loudly over each other.

You spot Doyun playing a competitive game of cards with some of the other officers. It looks like they’ve bet some solarins too because there’s no way kind Major Hyun would be yelling across the table at poor Major Ahn like that if there weren’t a couple of coins involved. You smile a little and fix your gaze toward a group of healers (including Namjoon) in deep discussion. But with their swaying bodies, red, sedated faces and empty bowls, you really doubt that anyone there is cognizant enough to have a coherent string of thought. Even so, you like to imagine that they’re talking about their families, whom they’ll be going home to see tomorrow. You can’t imagine how happy they must be. And you’re happy for them, too.

The feelings of jealousy you’ve felt during the last celebration are gone. Because this time, you have a home too. It might not be your alleged birthplace of Elu, but it’s a place where you feel safe. A place where you seem to know best. A place that you can proudly call home.

“Now, what are you doing, Y/N??”

You jump a little, startled to find Hana waving a loaf of bread right in front of you. One look at her and you know she’s drunk, which is surprising considering the fact that she’s a heavy drinker. She must’ve had at least ten bowls of Takju.

“You’re just standing in the corner watching everyone!” she yells. “Come out and have some fun! Grab a drink and some bread!” She boops your nose with the end of her loaf.

Giggling, you shake your head. “But I like standing in the corner.” Besides, you’re too sober to walk up to complete strangers and strike up a fascinating conversation with them that they’ll inevitably forget in the morning.

Hana makes a face. “Who the hell likes standing in the corner during a celebration?” she says, flinging her arms out dramatically. Consequently, the loaf of bread flies out of her hand and rockets straight into a crowd of soldiers.

There’s a small thump! and someone yells out a displeased, “Hey!”

Hana’s eyes grow wide as she looks around in panic. “Oh no.”

She grasps your hands, hers instantly warming your colder ones. But you feel that shock again. The same, strange feeling from before. It washes over your entire body, drenching it in a strange, staticky sensation. But before you can really comprehend what this could possibly mean, Hana pulls away.

“I have to run,” she says. “No. No. That would be silly. Why would I run away from that very obviously angry soldier? No. I have to find that loaf of bread. You know how rare a good loaf of bread is around here? The last time I’ve had some good bread was a week ago when you brought some back from Elu.” She smiles, her head lolling to the side as she looks at you. A strand of her dark hair falls in front of her face, and she waves her hand, the wind following her lead and moving it out of the way. “I appreciate you, Y/N,” she says. “I’m going to miss you.”

You snort. “You’ll be back by Circa Garnet, Hana.”

Her button nose wrinkles. “That’s too far away. I’d rather fight!” She pumps her fist in the air. “I’m going to fight until we win this damn war!” And before you can even react, she gasps. “My bread! I’ve got to go! Goodbye, Officer Ryu!” Hana gives you a ninety-degree bow (nearly falling over while doing so), and then quickly rushes to find her loaf of bread somewhere in the crowd of drunk soldiers.

You watch her leave, amused by how much someone can change with some alcohol in their system. It makes you wonder how you would be perceived if you were drunk. But that thought isn’t too pleasant.

After your encounter with Hana, you begin to survey the vast medical tent, eyes shifting through the soldiers and healers and officers to find anyone you recognize. There, around the middle of the tent, you find Hyojung and Captain Im dancing passionately in what looks like an unofficial official dance battle. There’s Jeonwoo on the sidelines, cheering Hyojung on, and quite a crowd of young soldiers chanting for Captain Im’s victory. Even stoic Captain Yoo looks content for once.

“Captain’s quite the dancer, isn’t she?”

You don’t recognize that voice, so you turn around to see an attractive woman, leaning on one leg and crossing her arms over her chest. With her wavy, brown hair and cat-shaped eyes, she emanates confidence and allure. You reason that she must be a soldier, judging from her uniform. She doesn’t seem so drunk, but there’s a flirtatious look in her eye, and you can’t seem to look away.

“I didn’t know Captain Im could dance like that,” you reply with a polite smile.

“She’s a jack-of-all-trades,” the woman replies. “But I’ve heard the same about you.”

Your eyebrows raise. “You have?”

“A prodigy rivaling Captain Im’s intellect,” she says with a smirk. “A soldier one circa and an officer the next. I’m impressed, sir.”

“Um… thank you.”

She laughs and tosses her hair back behind her shoulder. “You can be more arrogant than that, Officer. It’s more attractive when someone knows their worth.”

You blink rapidly, processing her words before making a comment of your own. “Then I suppose you know your worth quite well.”

“Oh, I do.” She grins. “I know my worth very well.”

How strange.

Is this what they call flirting?

In that case, there is no doubt about it that she’s interested in you. And sure, you may be interested, too. But why does this feel so… so foreign? And it’s not just foreign; it doesn’t feel right. Not because you don’t find her attractive—she, indeed, knows her worth—but because this is a war. You’ve seen how many times a couple is torn apart. How many times a soldier mourns over the death of their lover. You don’t want that pain. Nor are you ready to dedicate yourself to someone, only to have them torn away from you.

But there you go again, overthinking about everything when there was practically nothing said. This is just what they call ‘casual flirting.’ And if you’re understanding that correctly, it’s a fun, one-time thing. So you’re definitely getting ahead of yourself. But then again, do you really want to have such a fleeting connection with a dedicated soldier in the army? Wouldn’t it be awkward if this were a one-time thing, and the next time you see each other, one of you is dead? In fact, it wouldn’t be just awkward. It’d be fucking miserable.

The soldier notices your hesitation, which you may or may not have made very obvious. And to your relief, she grins, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s all right, Officer. We can’t all be interested in love and war.” Before you can say anything, she bows slightly, that alluring grin still on her face. “Then I suppose I’ll see you around, sir. The alcohol is calling me.” She’s gone so quickly—slipping into the crowd—that it almost feels like your encounter had been a dream.

But she’s right. And she was right to leave, too. You’re definitely not interested in love and war. How can you be? You’re married to the idea of creating battle plans and nursing injured soldiers back to health. What do you know about love, anyway? You only know sacrifice when it comes to your nation. But how do you sacrifice your heart for a partner? How do you cope with the fact that someone will want to sacrifice themselves for you? And what about the necklace?

Oh, the necklace.

It had slipped your mind for circas and circas. The only piece of evidence of your past. How fast your present must’ve moved for you to forget such a core detail of your old identity. So what about the person who gifted you the necklace? You should wait for them. But what if they’re dead? Would they have wanted you to move on?

But why are you so fixated on this fantasy anyway? You already thought of it yourself that you’re not one for love and war. Now as a Solarian Officer, you’ve dedicated yourself to the army, to the people, to the General. This is the new you.

But what about the old you? Are you going to abandon her, just like that?

It’s too much. Your thoughts begin to suffocate you. Though your surroundings are festive, you can’t seem to match the atmosphere. While soldiers are drinking away their problems, you seem to be giving yourself more by doing your usual overthinking. So you find reprieve by escaping into the night.

The winter air is cold, nipping at your exposed skin. You shiver, wandering into the darkness. The moon hides behind thick clouds, and only a few stars have come out to greet the night. The icy frost on the grass leaves wet prints on your thick uniform, goosebumps dotting your skin.

It’s cold, yet you feel oddly calm—an overwhelming contrast from the loud, hotness of the tents. Out here, you feel like you can breathe.

Further and further you wander into the darkness. You’re not sure why, but your legs persistently carry you forward. Out here, your thoughts are clear, no longer muddy and tangled and twisted. Out here, you feel free. You feel adventurous. The darkness, for some reason, fuels your desire to explore. And before you know it, you’ve wandered past the tall grass and just at the edge of the great, dark forest.

But then, there is light.

You see the amber glow coming from behind the trees, casting a dark shadow over the ground. It is the same brightness you remember seeing in the forest when you and the General were riding to Elu just a week ago. The swift brightness that had disappeared when you’d blinked. But this time, even when you blink, the mysterious light stays.

You take a step forward.

It takes a step forward.

And soon, you realize the amber glow is not just a light but an animal.

A tiger.

Your eyes widen as it reveals itself from behind the tall trees. It’s majestic. Warm.

The tiger burns, scarlet flames emanating from its entire body, yet never scorching anything around it. It stands tall, gazing up at you with sparks in its kind eyes.

You feel entranced. Hands carefully outstretched, you begin to walk slowly towards the tiger, and it lets you. Calmly waits for you to reach it. And once you’re in close proximity, it bows its head. As if it wants you to touch it. You stare at the orange flames blazing on its fur, hand hovering right over it. It seems dangerous. Why would you stick your hand into fire? But then again, there’s something about this tiger that calls to you. Something that feels safe. Something that doesn’t seem logical and all but still feels right.

Your hand falls onto the flames. But it’s warm, and the light casts pretty shadows on your arm. You run your fingers down the tiger’s head, petting its soft fur. It lets out a gentle huff, nuzzling into your hand.

So this is a sol. A fire sol. A sol that found you. They’re free animal spirits, supposed to roam about Solaria’s vast lands. But why has this one come to you? Has it been watching you? And why do you feel so calm and safe around it?

The tiger huffs contentedly as if to tell you he appreciates the attention he’s getting. Then, he—not an it—stands up, his head reaching just a little above your waist. His bright eyes speak to you. As if to tell you that he’s been waiting in the cold for you.

“Well then, I hope you didn’t wait for long,” you whisper, scratching behind his ear.

The tiger huffs again.

“I… I’m just… I needed some air.”

Why does it feel like you’ve known him forever?

“Have we met before?”

But the tiger raises his blazing paw, leaving your question unanswered. You begin to think taking his paw in your hand will help you understand something, but then you realize the sol has been trying to point behind you. “Oh. Oh. Something’s behind me?” Quickly, you turn around to see—

“Sir!”

“I see that you’ve met another sol,” the General says. He walks closer to you and the tiger, seeming oddly accustomed to the animal. “This one here is the physical embodiment of fire. He’s known to wander around Alder’s woods.”

But you’re barely able to hear his words. “Sir, I’m surprised to see you here. You’re the General that led hundreds of battles the past several circas. I thought you’d be celebrating your victories.”

You didn’t think anyone else would have wanted to forgo an excellent celebration for some alone time outside. Besides, you and the General have barely exchanged words since your trip to Elu together. Why is he suddenly approaching you, anyway?

“I don’t like to celebrate doing my duty,” the General replies without missing a beat. He stares behind you, at the blazing tiger, and shrugs. “With your logic, you should be celebrating too, Officer. You were the one who came up with our most successful battle plans.”

You cock your head. “Maybe I don’t like to celebrate doing my duty either, sir.”

The General makes a noise that sounds somewhat like a laugh and a snort. But he shakes his head, instead. “The sol seems to take a liking to you.”

As if to prove the General’s words, the tiger nuzzles you again, then sits down right next to you. “I like him too,” you say, reaching down to pat his blazing fur.

“He must see your potential to wield fire,” the General says. “Or he’s gotten tired of roaming about the forest alone.”

You smile, kneeling down to scratch behind the tiger’s ear. Its warmth seems to melt your insides, making the same kind of heat emanating from your body. “It’s a good thing that we can keep him company for tonight.”

The General raises his eyebrows. And for a second, you think he might say something on the lines of, ‘Well, maybe you can keep him company, but I’m going to go not celebrate my duty somewhere else.’ But the next thing you know, he’s kneeling down too, sitting cross-legged on the grass straight across from you. When you look at him in surprise, your eyes meet, his dark ones reflecting the red flames of the tiger. However, he quickly looks away and clears his throat. “I suppose you won’t be leaving camp tomorrow.” Then, he looks even more embarrassed that he had said anything.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t really have anywhere to go,” you say. You gaze up to the sky, watching the sparse stars sparkling in the distance. “Besides, as far as I know, Alder is my home.” Your gaze falls down to the man sitting in front of you. “And what about you, sir?”

Will he go back to Aithne, his homesector? Just to visit? But visit who, exactly? He’s the last of his bloodline… Does that mean he will stay here with you?

The General shakes his head, an unreadable look on his face. “Alder is my home as well.” He finally looks up, the brightness of the tiger’s flames and the shadows dividing his features in half. And this time, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he stares into your eyes—curiously. “You don’t like to drink, do you, Officer?”

It’s a question that catches you off guard. “Drink? I mean, I just… I don’t want to be perceived in a way that I cannot control,” you admit sheepishly. “I also get the impression that some drink to forget, but I don’t want to forget any more than I already have, sir.”

“Being in control, huh?” he says. He seems to nod to himself as if to fully digest your words. “I really do wonder where you were after all these years. Why you didn’t join the army sooner when you’ve got the talent and personality. But,” he says, back slouching as his hands graze the cold grass, “don’t you believe that it’s thanks to your memory loss that you’re now my officer?”

You cock your head. “That’s also very true,” you say. But for a split second, your thoughts flit to the abandoned necklace in your tent. Yet you shake those thoughts away. “Then I’m very lucky to be able to work with such talented people.”

The General smiles, his features glowing in warm light. “And we’re lucky to work with you.”

You shake your head though smiling at his compliment. “I’m pretty sure if you knock anyone out hard enough that they lose their memories, they’ll voice the same polarizing ideas that I have. It’s just something about not being able to remember anything that makes you feel like you have nothing to lose.”

The General’s eyes sparkle in amusement. “Hm… Nothing to lose,” he echoes. “Isn’t that quite a mindset?”

“It is.”

“Then you must be ready for the new year, Officer,” the General says. “It may seem peaceful now, but we’ll go right back to fighting in the next circa. Nothing to lose, huh?” He shakes his head. “You must not be afraid of death.”

“I feel like I should be,” you say, leaning back against the warm tiger who huffs happily in response. “But I don’t remember who I’ve loved, and I’m starting to think whoever they were—if they even existed at all—they’re already gone. So it doesn’t matter, I guess. If I die, no one will feel like they died with me.”

“Together, love and war is dangerously precarious, anyway,” the General says in agreement. “Do you wish you remembered, though? At least their face? Maybe faces?”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about your past lover, or lovers, as he phrases it. “I’m not sure,” you reply. “It could be both a blessing and an agony to know.”

The General nods. “Forgive me if that was too personal.”

“It’s fine,” you say, then you grin, an idea lighting up your mind. “I can ask you a personal question, sir. Maybe it will cancel out.”

He snorts. “If you’d like.”

“Are you afraid of death?”

The General visibly grimaces. You raise your eyebrows. “I’m sorry, was that too personal?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I just didn’t want my answer to kill the mood.”

The mood? Is he referring to the quiet calmness of being outside? Or the exhilarating curiosity you’re sensing that you have towards each other? Either way, the General likes the current atmosphere, and he’s cautious enough to not want to ruin it. You find that rather interesting.

“I’m sure we can manage,” you reply. “One answer won’t kill the mood, will it?”

The General seems to think. Then: “I suppose I agree with you. In that case, the short answer is no.”

“Looks like we have something in common.” You grin. “Do you mind divulging to me the long answer, sir?”

There’s a short, deliberate pause, where the General makes it quite obvious that he is in deep pondering, his forehead wrinkling and his posture worsening. But he finally decides to answer in the end. “My death will inevitably bring the burden of leading the Solarian Army on another person. I’m not afraid of death itself, but I’m very wary about the effects of my leave.”

“See, sir? That didn’t kill the mood. You were just being thoughtful and honest,” you say, smiling. “I also don’t think we’ll die anytime soon. So there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Not die anytime soon?” the General says. “Pray tell why you think so, Officer.”

Your fingers also graze the ice-cold grass, playing with the droplets of water before looking up to answer. “Because we’re going to crack the code. We’re already almost halfway there. I’m starting to think they’ll have a new code for every circa. It’s to the point that I’m wondering what the next word will be.”

The General nods. “I wonder, too.”

“Sir? Can I ask you another personal question?”

His eyes sparkle. Yes, losing your memories makes you feel like you have nothing to lose at all. His other soldiers wouldn’t dare be as upfront toward him as you are. “Are you going to inquire about my love life, next?” he asks half-jokingly.

You pretend to think. “Though that sounds tempting, I was really going to ask what your reason to fight is, sir. And I realize I never told you my reason, either, though I did tell you that you helped me find it.”

“Then why don’t you tell me your reason?” the General says.

“But sir! I asked you first.”

“And I’ll answer you after you tell me,” he responds, smiling. “Did I not help you find your reason?”

“Well, I suppose it’s nothing to hide,” you sigh, yet clearly amused. “But I did want the advantage of going last for the shock value.”

He snorts. “If it were a shocking reason, then it should shock me regardless of the order we share it.”

“Fine then. I fight for the end of this war.”

“The end?” He sounds incredulous, eyes slightly wide as he stares at you. As if you’d just uttered the impossible. You’ve shocked him all right.

“I know it sounds preposterous,” you say, attempting to explain yourself. “But even if I end up dying in the process, I want my efforts to have brought us just a step closer to the end. And it’s stupid.”

“Stupid?”

“It’s stupid that we fight for peace.”

“Of course it’s stupid,” the General says to your surprise. “But what better way is there to measure our egos?”

You scoff. “Do the Darlaeans even know that they’re fighting a nation run by a child?”

“They don’t,” the General replies. “If they did, they would be out for blood. More than they already are.”

It doesn’t make sense. Why not leave the Solarians alone? Why not embrace peace? “Why do they hate us so much?” you say. “I don’t understand.”

“The Darlaeans?” the General asks. “It’s because they love power. They can’t stand the thought of their ancestors abandoning Darlaean magic for elemental wielding because that would imply that Darlaean magic is not enough. If they win, Solaria will die.”

“Then we can’t possibly let them win.”

The General nods. “It’s why I fight for our freedom.”

“Freedom…” It sounds so nice saying it out loud.

“I’ll sacrifice anything so we can be a free nation with free people,” the General says. “Because like you, Y/N, I have very little to lose.”

“I guess we have more in common than I first thought,” you say, absentmindedly reaching back to pet the tiger. The sol huffs happily, his tail swishing in the cold air. “Truth be told, though, you scared me a lot when I first met you.”

You’re not sure what’s prompting you to be so honest in this hour. Maybe it’s the secure warmth of the fire sol behind you. Or maybe it’s the serene atmosphere of the night. Or maybe it’s the General who gazes at you like you’re the most interesting person he’s ever had the pleasure of talking to.

“I can’t blame you,” he answers, the corners of his lips twitching upward. “I shouldn’t have been so brash.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I know that it’s all a façade. I’ve seen how you act with children.”

The General snorts. “You’re peculiar.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Would I have been talking to the sol behind you?”

“Well… it could have been a possibility. But how so? How am I peculiar, that is?”

“I don’t know… You just are.” But he does know. Well, he has a small idea. You walk without weight on your shoulders. You talk with a sparkling glint in your eye. You approach him like you and he are acquaintances. You talk to him like he’s your friend. But you treat everyone the way you treat him. You’re a master battle planner, yet you think the war is stupid. You’re intimidating when you want to be, but when you smile, your face lights up and you begin to glow. You’re kind to the people who do not like you, but you can be mean when somebody pushes you too far. You showed up on his campground memoryless and innocuous, yet you’ve somehow made it as an officer. You’re an enigma.

Across from him, you get an inkling that the General knows exactly how you are peculiar. But you realize he must feel a little awkward verbalizing it. Or maybe he wants to keep being the enigma that he is. “You’re peculiar, too,” you say. “Very peculiar.”

His eyebrows raise. “How so?”

“I don’t know,” you echo with a grin. “You just are.”

He rolls his eyes. “Must you always repeat what I say?”

“Yes, but unlike you, I’ll actually elaborate,” you say, laughing at the General’s exasperated expression. “You’re an interesting balance of authoritative but receptive. You’re intimidating, but you know, when you smile, your whole face does this thing where it lights up. Maybe it’s the fire medium in you? You’re graceful yet awkward. You’re a leader but you also know how to follow. You’re my superior, but you treat me like we’re equals. Maybe like we’re acquaintances. Is that enough?”

The General is rendered a little speechless. You think the same of him when he smiles like he does when you smile. How peculiar.

“That’s more than enough. And for the record,” he says, “we are equals. Everyone in this camp stands on the same level. My life costs the same as everyone else’s. And…” he trails off, unable to help the grin that stretches across his lips. “Am I really that awkward?”

You laugh, shaking your head at his question and refusing to answer. “You’re lighting up again.”

“It must be because I enjoy your company.”

The General? Enjoys your company? You’re so shocked that you accidentally utter a: “Who wouldn’t?” It’s so out-of-character that even the General’s eyes widen at your words.

“I mean! I enjoy your company, too. Sir,” you quickly add. “I don’t know why I’m acting so inebriated. I haven’t had a single bowl of Takju.”

The General smiles. “It’s the atmosphere.”

Again, you’re not too sure what he means by this. The atmosphere of the night? The cold winds juxtaposed with the warmth emanating from the fire tiger? Or the atmosphere between the two of you? Either way, you don’t get an answer because there’s someone calling for the General, waving at the entrance of the main medical tent.

“General! I’ve been looking for you! We want you to make a toast!”

The General meets your eyes. And for a second, you see disappointment in them. But that emotion is gone the next time you blink. Quickly, he stands up. “Would you like to come?”

Oh, would you? You hesitate. Do you really want to go back in that stuffy tent?

Besides, you have a fire sol willing to keep you company for the night. If you leave now, you’re not sure if you’ll ever see him again. The tiger, sensing your predicament, huffs, rubbing his head against you. It helps you make your decision.

“I’ll stay, sir,” you say. “I don’t know when I’ll see him again.”

The General nods. “Don’t stay out too late, then.” He looks at you one last time—as if something’s on the very tip of his tongue. But he turns at the last second and walks away.

You watch him leave, huddling closer to the fire tiger.

What an interesting conversation you just had with the General. The more you get to know about him, the more you come to admire his character. And the more you want to uncover.

He said he has little to nothing to lose. It makes sense. How would it feel to be the very last of your bloodline, knowing your death would be a bigger deal than you’d like? Who has he lost that makes him the person he is today? What kind of past does he have for him to take on such a burdening role? What makes him want to fight for the freedom of Solaria?

You reach behind to scratch the tiger’s ear, and he huffs, nuzzling into your hand. “I should stop overthinking, huh?”

His tail thumps on the ground in agreement.

“It’s so beautiful tonight,” you sigh. “It feels like everything that’s happened so far—from the moment I woke up in that medical tent to right now—is a dream. I’ve learned so many things. Met so many great people—and animals,” you add with a laugh. “It sounds silly, but this almost seems too good to be true. I know we’re in the middle of a war, but there’s no way my past life was better than this. I’ve become a better person after I lost all my memories. Maybe… Maybe it’s time to really let go. Embrace that this is the new me.”

You close your eyes, taking in the crisp air and breathing out slowly. “I don’t want my old memories anymore.” It feels great to finally admit it. Your eyes open wide, a new kind of determination set in them. “Thinking about my past always weighs me down. And I don’t want that anymore. I don’t need my old memories to reconnect with fire. Hell, I can make new memories for that. I think I can relearn. I want to fight. I want to become a fire medium again.”

The tiger’s tail thumps rapidly on the ground—as if he is cheering you on.

“Thanks,” you say, smiling. “Do you have a family to go to? Am I keeping you away from them?”

The tiger paws at the air, and you interpret that as a no. “Are you going to keep me company for the night?”

He snorts—a happy-sounding yes.

You smile. “Thank you.”

With your fingers tangled in the tiger’s burning mane, you watch the nighttime clouds grace the sky, floating slowly to their next destination. The warmth against your back, the honey-colored flames of the sol and the quiet tranquility of the outside world begin to soothe you. Your eyelids feel heavy and your breaths start to slow. You fall asleep with the midnight sky gazing over you, and the blazing tiger keeping you guarded.

In a few hours, you awake along with the chimes of the water clock. It’s still early, the fog hiding away the dawn light, but you find that there’s something soft and bright supporting your back. When you turn around, you see the fire tiger. He’s awake too, staring at you with his round eyes.

“You stayed.”

He snorts as if you’d just uttered the obvious, which you sort of did.

“I just thought I wasn’t going to see you again,” you say. “You can go if you want. You’re not obligated to stay.”

The tiger lets out a soft growl as if he disagrees. He stares at you, mane blazing even in the early morning hours. His stare makes you feel like electricity coursing through your entire body. Again, there’s that feeling inside of you. That feeling where you swear you’ve seen him before. But that doesn’t matter anymore.

The moment right now is what counts.

With reinvigorated energy, you stand up with the tiger. Placing a hand on his back, you look around at the vast Alder territory. It’s so early that no one has come out of their tents yet. Gray fog weaves between the scarlet homes, and a wintry breeze still permeates the air, but for the most part, it looks like the frost from last night has melted. The scenery feels so raw, and the barrenness feels so intense. You feel the determination again. The passion and the ambition.

You take a deep breath of the fresh air. It stings your nose but you feel so awake. So alive.

“It’s a new day,” you say. “Are you ready for it?”

The tiger takes a step forward, tail swaying from side to side. He throws you a happy look with his soft eyes reflecting the flames of blazing fires. Then, he roars. The sound shakes the trees, reverberating across the land and stirring those who had been asleep. He roars and it wakes you up, too. You feel amazing. Like you’ve woken up from an amazing night’s sleep and came across a thousand epiphanies.

For Sooht’s sake. You’ve never felt so good before.

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⨰ a/n: i've been balancing a social life with clubs, research and classes and it's been a little difficult 😭 please bear with me (and my characters LOL). i hope you like this new chapter because things are going to be picking up from here! 👀

⨰ taglist: @shrimpmsg @chimchiekookie @eternita3 @staerryminimini @yunkichiee

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