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geekgirles · 1 month ago

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The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 11: Intertwined

Word Count: 26,955

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Chapter Summary: "Sacred Dance Day has arrived! A starry-eyed Amalia finds herself amidst all the decorations and preparations for such a momentuous occasion, both excited and worried for what the future might hold for her and her standing with the Eliatropes. Will she be able to find the perfect way to contribute? And what about Yugo? Is it possible that this year's celebration has a special meaning for him as well? And what could it be?"

At the very beginning, there was nothing. Scientists and religious leaders alike have long theorised there was only darkness, void and lifeless. A darkness so all-encompassing it couldn’t be described. It would be senseless, after all. What was the point of speaking about the vast coldness, the neverending silence, or the seeping hopelessness if none of those concepts even existed yet?

But then, nobody knows exactly when, something nothing short of miraculous happened.

Nobody knows or will likely ever know how it happened or where they came from, but the two very first souls came into existence. Both of them beings of great power and the source of the two quintessential energies of what would later become the known universe. Both of them the other’s complete opposite in every regard.

One of them was feminine in nature. She encompassed concepts that would later become known as ‘love’ and ‘space’, with the astonishing ability to travel to any plane through portals. Her bright, turquoise hues represented life and creation, a clear symbol of her motherly nature. She was the Great Goddess Eliatrope, the source of all wakfu in the universe, of all life and mobility.

The other was masculine in nature. With his ethereal and evasive, yet reptilian, form, the first dragon was born. The powerful magenta of his form bore the power of destruction and stability. He was the Great Dragon, the source of all Stasis in the universe, the origin of death itself.

Wakfu and Stasis. The two primordial energies in the universe; two sides of the same coin. The eternal balance between life and death, of endings and new beginnings alike.

Perhaps it was because they were the only two souls in existence, or maybe it was that that old saying about how ‘opposites attract’ is indeed as old as time, or in this case, even older, but Eliatrope and the Dragon fell in love.

With not much to do during a time when nothing was everything and everything was nothing, the two beings found themselves drawn to each other. And so, they began to dance. The more they danced, the more they loved each other, until they became intertwined, both their forms woven into one, forever sealing their fate as life and death would become inseparable from that point onwards. What death did, life couldn’t undo, and wherever death visited, life would flourish anew.

It was from that dance and the unshakable balance it created that the Krosmoz was born. Where there used to be nothing but darkness, now were millions upon millions of shining stars, illuminating the endless vastness of space. Solid celestial bodies would become planets, patiently waiting for their time to harbour life. And the first ever souls, those that would eventually become the twelve gods and that would eventually spawn countless more, were first created.

The eternal balance between life and death had been established, and with it, its cycle could finally begin.

“And that is why we celebrate Sacred Dance Day.” Yugo finished his retelling, leaning over the railing in Amalia’s balcony with the doll by his side.

He couldn’t help to preen himself under her admiring gaze, shining like the stars above. Although he couldn’t take all the credit of mesmerising her to himself—the ambience had really helped. With the stellar mantle hovering overhead from where they stood at her balcony, the light coming from her room illuminating their profiles, it felt as though they had been there, witnessing the very birth of the Krosmoz.

“Amazing…” Amalia breathed. Her full attention was on Yugo, her head resting in her palm as she listened to his tale. “I don’t think Twelvians have anything quite like it. Maybe Huppermages, but they care more about the Krosmic Balance itself than its creation…” She trailed off, her nose scrunched up in thought.

The Eliatrope just chuckled softly and gave a helpless shrug.

“Well, unlike the Twelvians, we Eliatropes and our dragons actually worship the Great Goddess and the Great Dragon. It’s only natural we would take certain things more seriously than them and vice versa.” As if to emphasise his point, he opened a small portal, no bigger than the palm of his hand.

“Touché.” It was Amalia’s turn to shrug. “When did you say the celebration will take place?”

“A week from now.”

She blinked as realisation dawned on her. “It’s that why the entire village is decorated?”

She’d been meaning to ask for a while now, having first taken notice of the festive ambiance one day when she was headed to the forest located at the outskirts of town, where Glip’s training took place. Between her lessons, tending to her garden, and other distractions, she never had the chance to ask.

A wry smile made its way to her lips when he began to sheepishly rub the back of his head in that way that was so characteristically him.

“Yes, sorry for not telling you sooner.” Her smile dimmed a little when he winced. “I meant to do it earlier, but… life got in the way.”

The doll refrained from pointing out how they had actually been spending a lot of time together lately. For some reason, there seemed to have been a shift in Yugo’s demeanour, and the rest of the Council of Six’s, too, for that matter. Everyone appeared to be more… vigilant, more alert, if that was even possible. With Yugo and Adamaï choosing to spend most of their free time with her—which, while always a welcomed thing, stoked her suspicions—, and even the guards being more attentive of what she did than ever.

But seeing as such an important celebration was just around the corner, she shrugged it off as them simply being on edge trying to make sure everything went off without a hitch. She tried to ignore the small pang of guilt she felt when she realised her presence had probably derailed their usual plans quite a bit.

Instead, she simply leaned closer to Yugo and put a comforting hand on top of his, and softly said, “It’s alright. Thank you for telling me. Thinking back, I should have known, seeing as I am already familiar with this piece of your history and culture.”

Even as he drew lazy circles on her skin with his thumb, his eyebrows still shot up in surprise, “You do?”

Another shrug. “From Glip and Baltazar’s classes.” In retrospect, she was a little disappointed with herself for not connecting the dots sooner. Shaking those thoughts away, she sent her friend a coy look. “So, tell me. How do you celebrate Sacred Dance Day, exactly?”

The king was only taken aback for a few seconds before he let out a puff of air that soon morphed into quiet laughter. Holding the doll’s hand in his until they were dangling from the balcony—and secretly relishing when her mesmerised eyes followed the movement and the sweetest blush lit up her cheeks—, he started, mirth shining in his eyes:

“It’s always the same, to be honest. Although that doesn't make it any less special.” He was quick to point out.

The doll nodded. “Of course not.”

“Of course not.” His smile widened a little. “As you’ve already seen, it’s tradition to decorate our homes with silks, sheer and edged in gold, and charms carved in stone in the shape of a portal. Now that I think about it, we still have to decorate the palace—I’ll talk to Nora about it.” He added, as if thinking aloud. Then, catching himself, he went on with his explanation. “But that’s only the beginning, and it’s something we actually do before Sacred Dance Day actually arrives.

“On that day, families will spend the morning together, celebrating what life has given them. But it’s in the evening when the fun really starts.” He smiled devilishly at her, his pearly whites peeking through his lips in a way that sent butterflies to her stomach. Why, the doll didn’t know. But she did know she liked it when Yugo made her feel like that. “That’s when we all gather together around the temple, in the middle of the main square. I officially inaugurate the festivities with a little speech, and the fun begins.

“There’s games set out for young and old alike, music fills the air, and everyone mingles and enjoys themselves. Following that, we all share a hearty dinner filled with laughter, relishing in the ironic intimacy of a full-blown party. And then, the real magic happens.”

His wording had the desired effect. Amalia’s eyes were shining with anticipation. “What do you do?”

“It’s Mina and Phaeris’ turn to lead the ceremonial aspect of the festivity.” He revealed, his tone almost conspiratorial. “They deliver this wonderful, heartfelt speech in honour of the Great Goddess and thank everyone for their offerings. And then, they lead everyone in our annual reproduction of the first Sacred Dance.”

The doll positively lit up, a dazzling smile splitting her face in two. “You guys dance! Oh, that sounds so fun! I haven’t danced since the banquet at Bonta.”

Shyly looking away, Amalia allowed herself to get lost in the memories for a few instants. It really had been long since she last danced. Not only with Yugo—the thought making her heart ache with longing—, but herself. She remembered quite fondly those times where her father would lead a dance with her and her sisters. Those moments always filled her with a sense of peace like she hadn’t felt in a while.

It was funny, now that she thought about it. She hadn’t realised how much she missed it until Yugo brought it up.

Her gaze snapped back at the king in surprise when he rushed out to clarify. “Erm, well… Yes and no.” His heart dropped to his stomach when timid disappointment flashed across her face.

“You don’t dance?”

“No, no! Of course not!” He blurted, only to throw his head back in frustration when his unfortunate wording only disheartened Amalia further.

He rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated with himself. Ever since he realised his feelings for Amalia, he felt clumsier than ever. He took one deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly, trying to compose himself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t explain myself properly.” He told the doll, who hung onto his every word. “What I meant to say is we do dance, only that’s actually how the night ends. Let’s just say it’s only part of our way of honouring the Great Goddess and the Great Dragon.”

“Oh. I see…” Amalia said tentatively. Her spirits lifted at the idea of getting to dance after all, the corner of her lips twitched upwards into a small smile. “Then what’s the whole picture?”

“‘The whole picture’?” Yugo repeated, tilting his head in confusion.

“Yes, you know, if dancing’s only part of it, how do you honour Eliatrope and the Great Dragon?”

“Oh, right.” He cleared his throat and nudged her playfully. “This is actually the pièce de résistance of the whole event, Amalia, you’re going to love it.”

Giggling at his theatrics, she simply gestured with one hand for him to get on with it already.

He chuckled. “Right. Well, as I said, Mina and Phaeris lead the whole ceremony. So once they’re done giving their speech, they lead us all to raise our hands in the air and will our wakfu to manifest.”

“Wait,” The doll interrupted him, blinking rapidly. “That’s it? You guys just create portals?”

“I never said that.” The Eliatrope chastised her lightly, booping her nose a few times to get his point across. They both averted their eyes bashfully when his actions fully registered in their minds.

Amalia, who kept threading her fingers through her evergreen hair nervously, was the first to break the silence, “So, if you guys don’t create portals, what do you do?”

That seemed to bring Yugo back to reality, who jolted in place. He cleared his throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant, “W-what we do is we project our energy unto the night sky, and with Mina and Phaeris’ help, those wisps of wakfu are shaped into a representation of Eliatrope and the Great Dragon as they dance together.”

“Oh.” Was all Amalia could say. Because, what can you even say to that?

“And then we dance under them.” Yugo finished, already anticipating she’d want to know about that little detail in specific.

“Good.” She nodded so resolutely that Yugo couldn’t help but snort. “Dancing is what distinguishes good parties from mediocre ones.”

“You really love to dance, don’t you?” He smirked.

She smirked right back, though hers held a touch of mystery. “It's a Sadida thing.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Please, do.”

They managed to hold their laughter in for all of two seconds. The quiet of the night was broken by their breaking down in hysterics, with Amalia playfully shoving Yugo away when he started making faces just to make her laugh harder. All tactics that worked flawlessly, much to her chagrin. Eventually, they quieted down, although their cheeks still flushed from mirth and they were holding onto their aching stomachs.

As his uproarious cackles faded into chuckles, Yugo wiped a tear off his eye. “You’ll have to tell me what’s so important about dancing one day.”

Hiding her giggles behind her hand, Amalia returned his affectionate gaze with a mischievous one of her own. “Maybe one day you’ll find out by yourself.”

The grin he answered with was so tender she could feel herself melt. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

The doll’s breath hitched in her throat, and she scrambled to tear her gaze away from his, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she willed her heartbeat to go back to normal. Hard as she tried, she just couldn’t understand what happened to her whenever Yugo was involved. Her mouth would dry, her heart would start thumping wildly in her ribcage like an untamed Dragoturkey, she would be both incredibly comfortable and bashful in his presence, and she was constantly flushing like an idiot.

At first she thought that was normal between friends. Yugo was quite literally the first person she interacted with outside of Inglorium, where she would spend most of her time with her father and sisters, anyway. She assumed all those butterflies in her stomach were the usual elation from making a new friend, someone to spend your time with and to cherish.

But the more people she met, the more she began to doubt her theory.

Even though it was true she still spent most of her free time with Yugo, she had also been branching out to other people in the span of the last few months. People she felt comfortable with and, if not friends, she believed she could at least call acquaintances. People, who, regardless of the appropriate terminology to refer to them by, welcomed her with open arms.

Adamaï, Baltazar, Glip (eventually), the children, Chibi, Grougaloragran, Kérubim and Atcham, Alibert and Ruel… Nora was difficult to define: Amalia had the feeling the pink-eyed Eliatrope held no grudges against her, but she was bound by her loyalty to her brother, who very much hated her. All that led the doll to think of her relationship with Nora as bittersweet, even if it was no fault of hers.

She shook those thoughts away. She refused to let Efrim damper her good mood yet again. Especially when she still had much to figure out.

The truth was, she enjoyed their company, and she wanted to believe the feeling was mutual between them. And yet, despite their supposed friendship, she certainly didn’t feel the same way about any of them as she felt about Yugo.

To say the questions left her flummoxed would be an understatement. Why was Yugo so different from everybody else? Why was it that only he could lift her spirits up when she was lost in despair, at the same time as the idea of losing him felt like a knife in her heart? Would this have anything to do with what her father said about suitors and brides—?

“A little tofu told me you had a hand in the creation of the Magnolias.” Yugo’s voice cut through her pondering like a knife. Suddenly, she didn’t remember what she’d be wondering about in the first place.

Blinking blankly as she regained her bearings, all Amalia could offer was a weak, “Huh?”

“Chibi and Grougal.” He clarified. “They told me all about the Magnolias.” He smirked, leaning his head against his knuckles as he scooted a little closer to her side. “Gotta say, I’m not all that surprised. It definitely has your mark.”

Feeling shy under his praiseful look, Amalia tried to play it off by turning her back to the balcony, her hands resting at both sides of her on the railing. “Yeah, well. After we almost died in a work-induced fire, I’d say anything that doesn’t involve being burnt to a crisp is a vast improvement, don’t you think?”

Yugo’s eyes widened like saucers, his very being trembling in alarm.

“Come again?” He choked out.

But Amalia didn’t elaborate. “But really, it was a joint effort.” She waved the mere notion off dismissively. “After Chibi and Grougal explained how the Wik-Fi Network worked and their issues with finding replacements for their usual materials here, all I really did was provide them with the means necessary to achieve their goal. I’m sure they would have managed just fine even without me.”

It was clear Amalia wasn’t going to assuage his fears concerning the very real possibility that she was almost burned alive, so he chose to stow his questions for later. He’d have a word with Chibi and Grougal on proper safety measures and on finally adding some darned windows and sprinkler system to their workshop later. For now, he contented himself with squeezing the doll’s hand in his, his heart fluttering at the adorable squeak of surprise she let out at the contact.

“Nevertheless, it was a success.” He told her softly. “I know for a fact they were struggling with it, and thanks to you, my people can finally communicate just like they did back home. It’s a small taste of familiarity in a whole new world, but a needed one nonetheless.”

There! There right there was the source of her turmoil!

Oh, how in Sadida’s name was she supposed to make peace with the mysterious yet exhilarating way Yugo made her feel, if he kept making her little Ogrine heart race with just a few sweet words?!

It was downright torturous at this point. An agonisingly sweet torture.

Her mouth feeling like cotton (something she usually only experienced in her rag doll form), it was a miracle when she finally managed to change the topic. “So…um…” She coughed awkwardly. “Uh, anything else that you’d like to tell me about Sacred Dance Day?”

Mimicking her position, his back now to the railing as well, Yugo just shrugged nonchalantly. “Not really, no. That’s everything important.”

She had just given a noncommittal nod when he rushed out to add, “No, wait. Sorry. Now that I think about it, do you think you could help us decorate the palace? My siblings and I have had our hands full lately and couldn’t do it until now.”

She beamed at him. “Sure thing!” Then, she let out a wistful sigh. “Anything to get to experience Sacred Dance Day, even if it’s only a little and from my room.”

The king raised a confused eyebrow. “What are you talking about? Amalia, you’re invited to the celebration. You know that, right?”

With a small gasp, her whole demeanour lit up like the stars above them. “Really?!”

His own expression softened. “Yes, really.” He surprised even himself when his body moved on its own accord and closed the distance between them just so, enough so their faces were one breath away from each other as he whispered, “That is, if you want to.”

Amalia didn’t even have to think about her answer. Thank Sadida, because with Yugo at such close proximity she wouldn’t have been able to form a single coherent thought even if she wanted to. “Of course I’d love to go.”

And then, right before they could close the distance between them completely, a jolt went through both of them, causing them to all but jump away from each other, their cheeks on fire and hearts hammering in their chests. Whatever moment they had was now lost.

“G-great!” The Eliatrope said, his voice cracking embarrassedly. “T-then, I’ll… I’ll see you there!”

“You bet!” Amalia squeaked, wishing a carnivorous plant would swallow her whole when she realised she had just used finger-guns with Yugo, like some awkward loser with no social skills.

The king was saved from further embarrassing himself when he remembered something important.

“Oh, just one last thing.”

“Hm?”

“Since this is actually quite an important day for us, it’s tradition that we all dress to the nines for the occasion. And since you’ll be participating too, I guess that includes you.”

“I see… I suppose, then, that I can’t exactly wear my adventuring outfit to the ceremony.” Amalia guessed.

“Considering my sisters would kill me if I let you wear nothing short of regal to the festivities, I’m afraid that no, you cannot.”

Her nose scrunched up in thought for a moment as she held her chin between her thumb and index finger. “I suppose I could always come up with something else.” She splayed her hands in surrender, though her stance was resolute. “I’m sorry, Yugo, but I categorically refuse to wear the same dress as my arrival or the banquet at Bonta for something as important as Sacred Dance Day. It’s a matter of principle.” She asserted, arms crossed over her chest, indicating she wouldn’t budge on the matter.

“Never crossed my mind.” He said instead, honestly taking her by surprise. “I was actually thinking along the lines of sending the royal tailor to your chambers sometime this week so he can sew a new, custom-made outfit for you from scratch.”

The Divine Doll’s reaction was instantaneous. No sooner had the words left the Eliatrope King’s mouth, did she begin to squeal excitedly and to thank him profusely. As she prattled on and on about all the ideas she already had for her dress—because it had to be a dress, she wouldn’t take no for an answer—and that she wanted to discuss with the tailor as soon as he arrived, Yugo was rendered helpless in her presence.

As Amalia excitedly shared her plans with him, all he could do was stare adoringly down at her and privately think about his own reasons for looking forward to Sacred Dance Day.

..........................................................................................................................

Amalia couldn’t help but find it ironic how, despite being the daughter of a literal god, that is to say, an object of profound, spiritual admiration with festivities revolving around the very notion of worshipping him, she actually knew very little about what honouring a god entailed.

Mainly, she had been completely blindsided to find out part of celebrating Sacred Dance Day was a mandatory holiday period where businesses would either close early, or take the day off entirely. Same with Glip and Baltazar’s classes. Apparently, it was tradition to relax and spend the week preceding the festivity with one’s family, even when that meant putting a temporary stop to the cultivation of knowledge and physical training.

The very next day after the holiday was also free, since the Eliatropes would be too tired from partying to be productive.

And that is why Amalia suddenly found herself with little to do. With her afternoons now free from having to train (although Glip had strongly encouraged his students to work on what they’d learned the very last class before their little vacation period), the Divine Doll found herself with a lot of time in her hands. Time she mostly dedicated to her garden, but there was only so much she could do before Qilby and Shinonomé could finally pay her that one visit where they were supposed to share what kind of plants their clinic needed from her.

Normally, she would have taken advantage of her nearly empty schedule to spend more time with Yugo, and hopefully figure out what that feeling she experienced around him was at last; but he and the rest of the Council were busy preparing for their roles to play in the upcoming celebration.

According to the palace staff, while the king and Adamaï were busy overseeing everything, Mina and Phaeris barely left the temple. They would depart at the break of dawn, and return well after sunset, when the sky was pitch black except for the moon and stars illuminating the night.

While a part of the doll told her that was the Ochre Twins’ responsibility and they knew what they were doing, she still couldn’t help but fear for their health. She just hoped they ate and slept well enough.

All in all, despite her undeniable excitement over getting to witness what Sacred Dance Day was like firsthand, Amalia would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bored from the lack of activity.

Hence why, despite her reservations, she jumped at the chance to help Nora decorate the palace when she came knocking on the door that afternoon and told her Yugo had asked her to go look for her. To be honest, she had almost forgotten about that.

And that was how she found herself carrying boxes filled with delicate fabrics and ornate decorations all around the palace. Her arms ached from the weight, but it was better than tracing the murals on her wall for the umpteenth time. At this point she was probably capable of drawing those paintings herself with her eyes closed…

The two women’s efforts were currently focused on decorating the large, majestic columns lining up the main hall that led to the throne room. Amalia couldn’t help but be grateful that Chibi and Grougal’s common sense hadn't been abandoned for this wing of the building and they didn’t forget to add windows. That way, she could just summon her vines from outside for help. That made everything so much easier.

She was perched on a ramble, its ends wrapped snugly around her form like a harness, as it guided her along the height of the column she was currently working on, draping the fabrics and hanging the stone-made ornaments along the polished marble. Another pair of thinner, more manoeuvrable vines acted as a second pair of arms, rummaging through the boxes on the floor in search of more materials to hand over to her whenever her current stash ran out.

Nora completed the same task through the use of her square-shaped portals. But when the pink-wearing Eliatrope had offered to do the same for Amalia, the doll had politely but adamantly refused. At her swift yet resolute response, Nora couldn’t help but feel grateful for the mask covering her face—she wouldn’t have been able to hide her amused grin otherwise.

Thank goodness she hadn’t offered to carry the doll around as she floated in the air! She had a feeling that would have ended up doing Amalia in for good. And something told her Yugo wouldn’t take it kindly if she upset the Divine Doll, especially not after the shocking discovery he and Ad made.

Securing the knot joining two different pieces of silk together, Nora’s light mood darkened slightly as the reminder sobered her up. She sneaked a glance towards Amalia, taking in the way her tongue stuck out cutely as she directed all her focus on hanging one of the stone portals.

It was both astonishing and relieving to see how she remained unaware of the going-ons around her, especially when she seemed to be at the centre of it all.

Once their king and his dragon twin had found out about their mysterious intruder, they wasted no time calling an emergency council meeting and warning their siblings of the possible danger in their midst. They didn’t even flinch before the Council’s scandalised reactions upon finding out their—or rather, her— target had been Amalia. Even as Efrim set out to exteriorise his disapproval of the Divine Doll as per usual, it was Adamaï who promptly shut down his attempts, pointedly reminding him their top priority right now was ensuring her safety and with it, that of their people’s.

For his part, Yugo didn’t waste a second in organising everyone so Amalia would be watched over at all times. Whoever was in charge of patrolling each week would keep an eye out on her chambers in particular, and the rest of the Council was to find a way to remain close to her. For the most part, it didn’t pose a problem for anyone, since whenever Yugo himself wasn’t there by the Sadida Doll’s side, her training sessions with Glip and Baltazar meant they had it covered. But now that classes were out due to the upcoming holiday, they had to get creative.

Asking Amalia to help out with the preparations for Sacred Dance Day was an idea equal parts ingenious and subtle, Nora admitted to herself. That way, Amalia remained blissfully unaware of the potential danger she was in, at the same time as it allowed for whoever was in charge of guarding her to remain close without their behaviour coming off as suspicious or unusual.

Bright pink eyes blinked rapidly as the doll’s sweet voice broke her out of her thoughts, “So, I’ve been meaning to ask… Why fabrics?”

“I beg your pardon?” Nora raised an eyebrow, uncomprehending.

From where she was, held securely by her vine, Amalia held up the piece of silk in her hands, “Why do you use fabrics to decorate for Sacred Dance Day? I can understand the ornaments, since they’re clearly modelled after your portals, but this…?” She trailed off meaningfully.

Eyes widening slightly in understanding, Nora nodded. “It’s in honour of Eliatrope.”

It was Amalia’s turn to blink, confused. “But isn’t that what the portal decorations are for?”

The pink-eyed Eliatrope couldn’t help but laugh lightly at her earnest confusion. “They represent different things.” She said simply. Pointing her open palm at the box on the floor near her, she summoned a small portal, a piece of silk and a stone ornament landing neatly into her outstretched palm. “The portal represents the Great Goddess’ power, her gift to us; whereas the silk handkerchiefs represent the goddess herself.”

The doll’s inquisitive eyes darted back and forth between the objects in her companion’s hands and her placid smile, her mind scrambling to understand what she was trying to say, until… “Okay, I give up. How does a handkerchief represent a goddess?”

“Don’t masks represent your father?” Nora shot back knowingly, only for Amalia’s swift counter to cause her smirk to drop from her face.

“My father always wears a mask. It’s practically his trademark. And with good reason, too—anyone who stares at Sadida’s bare face suffers a fate worse than death.”

There was a moment where all the Eliatrope woman could do was openly gape, either at the revelation or the nonchalant fashion in which the doll uttered it, she wasn’t sure. In the end, all she could say was, “I suppose you learn something new every day…”

“So…” Amalia trailed off meaningfully.

Nora, recovering from her previous shock, raised an eyebrow, “So?”

“So…” The doll repeated pointedly. “How do silk handkerchiefs represent your mother?”

The other girl just chuckled. “Our mother is different from the other gods in a lot of ways. For starters, she lacks a humanoid body.”

Even though a part of Amalia couldn’t help but wonder how in the World of Twelve Nora knew that when she was pretty sure she had never met the twelve gods, she opted to stow that away for later and asked, “Then what does she look like?”

Her face scrunched up in confusion when Nora pulled a face of her own, making a so-so gesture with her hand.

“To be completely honest, like a porcelain doll’s face with a giant, bright blue wig.” She nodded solemnly when it was the Sadida Doll’s turn to pull a face. “Yeah, I know.”

“But I thought a god’s followers were supposed to take after them in terms of powers and appearance? You certainly inherited her powers, but you guys look… Well, like that,” she pointed meaningfully to all of Nora, “while she looks like, well, like you said…” She finished lamely, looking down while fidgeting with her hands.

The Eliatrope just smirked coyly. “That coming from the doll whose father always wears a mask while his followers are essentially green-haired, dark-skinned humans.” She was quick to point out.

Amalia splayed her hands in surrender. “True, true. There’s no denying you have a point there. But Sadida men do have their faces covered by their manes, and we are essentially tree people, my father’s domain. By contrast, you don’t even have blue hair, that’s the Feca.”

“Touché.” Then, seemingly processing her words, she tilted her head, unsure. “What’s up with that? Isn’t their goddess a brunette?”

The doll shrugged. “Beats me.”

There was a moment where an awkward silence fell over them, neither of them knowing what to say or how to continue with their bizarre conversation. At least, until Amalia broke the quiet:

“...if it’s any consolation, Xelor’s face is on his chest. When he moves his pectorals, his eyes blink.”

“Ew.” Nora oh-so-eloquently replied. She absent-mindedly thought back to the Xelor royals and aristocrats they met at Bonta. Even with their bodies covered in armour and enough bandages that her first instinct was to wonder what kind of horrible accident they had been in, from the look of things, that was still nothing compared to their patron god’s eldritch qualities.

“I know.” Not sure if that little titbit of gossip had been of help or only made things worse, the doll just pushed through, hoping to have her curiosity sated so they could both finally move on from the awkward conversation.

“So!” She and Nora both winced, having been a tad louder than she intended. She tried again at a more acceptable volume. “So you use silk to represent the Great Goddess’ more…ethereal form?” She offered.

“In a way.” Nora said, thankful for the much needed change of topic. She turned her focus back to the piece of fabric in her hands, her fingers delicately running along its surface, the material making a rustling noise under her fingertips. “As you can imagine, Eliatrope’s unique physical appearance sets her apart from the rest of the gods.”

Even though the doll’s inner thoughts commented dryly on the fact that she was probably hairier than even Ecaflip, on the outside she was smart enough to muse, “I suppose that’s true, yes.”

“Unlike the twelve gods, who all have at least one pair of arms and a physical body, the goddess Eliatrope has neither—her vast mantle of hair stands in for both.” Taking advantage of Amalia’s momentary state of shock—and mentally lamenting she couldn’t see the look on her face, with her wide eyes and gaping mouth—, the pink-eyed council member continued. “That’s what the silken handkerchiefs are supposed to represent; her hair.” Floating closer to a still bewildered Amalia, she traced the fabric with her fingers as she explained, “See? That’s why it’s a rich shade of turquoise with golden edges, because that’s how our mother looks.” Then, softly, so softly the doll wouldn’t have heard her if she hadn’t been paying attention, she added, “It’s a small comfort during these trying times; a way to say she is still with us.”

Brown eyes softening, empathising with the meaning behind the tradition, though not without a small pang of longing as she thought about her own divine father, Amalia called after Nora as she went back to decorate her side of the hall. “Has it been long since you last saw your mother?”

While she posed her question hoping for Nora to speak fondly of their mother and assure her she was always looking over them, Amalia couldn’t shake this cynical feeling at the back of her head, gnawing at her with the possibility of the Great Goddess Eliatrope being as neglectful to her children as Kérubim, Atcham, and Harebourg accused their parents of being. A sinking feeling rooted itself in her heart when the Eliatrope’s words failed to assuage her fears.

“Since shortly before the war with the Mechasms.” She admitted, her voice distant as she once again lost herself in a sea of painful memories that threatened to drag her down below and drown her. Chancing a glance towards the doll, she winced at her disheartened expression and braced herself for the uncomfortable questions she would have to shut down. She really wasn’t in the mood to think about the war right now.

Only to be pleasantly surprised when all the doll asked instead was, “Do you miss her?”

The question still hurt, as it unintentionally opened old wounds that had yet to heal, but it was still far more manageable.

“I do. We all do, really.” She sighed, and for a moment it appeared as if she alone carried the entire weight of the world on her tiny shoulders. “She was our mother, and we all loved her deeply, almost as much as she loved us. Though I will admit we in particular shared a special bond with her, one unlike any of our siblings’.”

“Oh, you were closer to her than the rest of your siblings?”

“Yes, but even our bond was nothing compared to her and Efrim’s.”

As soon as the name rolled off her tongue, the two of them stiffened up, the air around them becoming charged with unspoken tension.

Pink eyes frantic at her slip of the tongue, Nora turned to face Amalia, her gaze searching hers, and she cursed herself when she found her rooted to her spot, completely frozen yet her whitened knuckles showing she was holding onto her rambles for dear life. The Eliatrope girl could feel the knot forming at the pit of her stomach at the sight of the doll’s bark-like complexion blanching, gaining an almost deathly parlour.

Who could blame her? Her dragon twin had become off-limits as a topic of conversation between them ever since their last encounter.

Rushing to her side, Nora reached out to the Divine Doll but never made contact with her skin, her hand hanging almost uselessly in the air as she tried to apologise. “Amalia, I… I’m so sorry. I…I mean… Forget I said anything. I just…”

As if awoken from a dream, Amalia began to blink rapidly, slowly but surely regaining her bearings. Even though she still looked mildly surprised when she took notice of the pink-clad Eliatrope’s close proximity, jolting slightly in her makeshift seat, her shock melted into understanding at the sight of her.

Taking pity on the poor girl’s frazzled state, knowing full well it was due to feeling guilty over accidentally putting her on edge, the Sadida Doll offered her a small but kind smile as she gently lowered her outstretched hand.

“Nora, I’m fine. Don’t beat yourself up about this.” She let out a self-deprecating laugh. “It’s my own fault for being so sensitive when it comes to… your twin.”

“But—.”

“Not ‘buts’.” She told her kindly but sternly, sending her a look. “Besides, I should really stop being so on edge around him, lest we risk Yugo catching wind that something is definitely wrong between us.”

While she tried to imbue her voice with some humour, it rang hollow even to her ears, causing her to wince and to avert her gaze. While she absentmindedly rubbed her arm for comfort, accidentally dishevelling one of her wristbands, Nora remained afloat, biting down on her lip behind her magenta mask and fidgeting with her fingers nervously, almost too afraid to ask.

At last, she mustered up the courage to voice the difficult question right at the tip of her tongue, begging for release. “Speaking of Yugo… Does he, you know, know?”

Amalia’s voice was distant yet unwavering. “No. He doesn’t know.” Nora flinched when she set her searching brown eyes on her. “Isn’t that what we agreed on? That we couldn’t tell Yugo what happened so as to not worry him when he’s already so busy?”

It was Nora’s turn to break eye contact, feeling uncomfortable in her own skin for some reason. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Once again, silence settled between them, heavy and oppressing as it weighed heavily over both women. Their minds elsewhere, Amalia was completely taken aback when she suddenly registered the lack of light coming from the windows. Frowning in confusion, she turned her head in search of the sun casting its rays down on them, only to start when all she saw instead was the faint glow of the moonlight and far away stars.

They must have been working on this area of the palace longer than they realised.

Hovering behind her, Nora must have reached the same conclusion. Her heavy sigh drew the doll’s attention back to her, only to see her uselessly trying to tuck a strand of pinkish white hair behind her covered ear right before she stretched, making her bones pop!, and turned around. She watched her go even as she called out to her over her cloaked shoulder, “We should really hurry up and finish this hall already.”

Despite the emotions brewing inside her, inside both of them, Amalia acquiesced. She guided her verdant helping hands in their task of finding and handing her more decorations, but the faint light of the moon wasn’t helping. Even when her sight had finally adjusted to the darkness, she still had to squint her eyes as she tried to tie the knots connecting the pieces of silk, or when she searched for the nails she could hang her stone portals from.

Noticing Amalia’s struggle—most likely due to her constant grunts of effort and frustration—, Nora peered over at her from over her shoulder. For a moment, she stared questioningly at the doll and the trouble she seemed to be having all of a sudden, not really comprehending, until one last glance over the hall helped her realise the relative darkness they were working in surely had something to do with it.

Perhaps out of the two of them it was Efrim who possessed night vision, but one didn’t get to carry out as many successful night patrols as Nora had under her metaphorical belt if they couldn’t manage themselves in the dark. That was why she hadn’t even taken notice of the fact that the torches lining up the walls had yet to be lit up since it was still early for the guards’ night shift.

Shaking her head fondly at the struggling doll, she chose to take pity on her and be merciful for once. “Amalia, do you want me to light up the sconces so you can see?”

“That’s alrig—.” Amalia began to say, only to cut herself off and do a double-take when her companion’s choice of words began to sink in. “Wait, how come you don’t have a problem with it?”

She could only gape as the Eliatrope shrugged. “I’m used to working in the dark.”

“Care to elaborate on that?” Amalia deadpanned, bemused.

A special kind of outrage rooted itself into her heart when all Nora did in response to that was smirk.

“Nope.” She said, popping the ‘p’.

Still gaping and feeling personally affronted for some reason, Amalia huffed and, arms crossed over her chest, she turned back around. “Fine. Whatever. See if I care.” Much to her chagrin, her face heated up with indignation when she heard Nora snickering behind her.

As much as Nora would have loved to laugh at Amalia’s haughty little number—if it were up to her, she would have been going at it for hours—, she knew they had a job to finish. Although she supposed there was no real rush, seeing that as long as Amalia had someone near watching over her, she was still technically fulfilling her mission of keeping her safe.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to sober up a little. “Amalia, are you sure you don’t want me to light up a fire or something?” She actually flinched at the unamused glare the doll sent her over her shoulder.

“After your brothers and I almost died in one the other day?” She deadpanned dryly. “No, thank you.” Wincing at the reminder, Nora was about to apologise when Amalia, a mischievous grin on her face, cut her off. “Besides, I got this covered.”

“Huh?”

Face scrunched up in confusion even behind her mask, the pink-eyed Eliatrope could only look on as the Divine Doll splayed one hand palms-up. Before she could question her on what she was doing in the first place, a small bud made out of leaves materialised on her mahogany palm. As it opened, revealing a small, floating orb of light, Nora’s astonishment was such that she actually lowered her mask as she stared at the sphere in awe. Her bright magenta eyes followed it in wonder when it left its creator’s hand and began to float all around the space until making its way back to Amalia, who directed it to hover above her and light up her way.

Amalia’s pride and joy at the sight of her latest development managing to render her companion speechless was somewhat doused when the Eliatrope woman blurted out, “What does light have to do with plants?!” Pointing at the luminous sphere in bewilderment, her pink eyes darted back and forth between the Sadida Doll and her… Whatever it was. Her mouth agape. “How did you even do that?!”

Huffing with a roll of her eyes at her reaction, having hoped to bask in the glory of the moment for a little while longer, it was the doll’s turn to smirk smugly. Despite everything, she had to admit she enjoyed knowing something Nora didn’t for once.

“As a matter of fact, plants and light have a lot to do with each other.” Amalia pointed out matter-of-factly. “Remember? Most plants practice photosynthesis, the natural process of changing sunlight into chemical energy—you know, food.” She snickered to herself, almost as if she’d just remembered a funny joke. “If you think about it, there are few things that are more connected to each other than plants and light.”

“Yeah, but that still doesn’t explain how you got a plant to blossom into your personal flashlight!” Nora shot back, growing a little miffed at the doll’s condescending attitude just because she wasn’t intrinsically connected to plant-life.

But Amalia just raised a finger up. “I was getting there.” She chided her playfully, earning herself a raspberry that, after a small, offended gasp, she returned quite fervently. “As I was saying,” she made sure to draw out the words to emphasise her point, ignoring her companion’s groans, “there actually are several plants and fungi capable of emitting light. As it happens, a prime, available example would be the bulbshrooms in my room.”

Nora blinked. She had honestly forgotten about those.

“Is that one of the plants capable of emitting light?” She inquired, the initial shock and aggravation in her tone replaced by genuine curiosity.

Amalia’s smile was so bright it almost put her plant to shame. “Not exactly. It’s something I’ve been working on.” She beckoned the orb closer to her and showed it to Nora, who had closed the distance between them and was hovering in mid-air. “Normal bioluminescent plants do just that, give off light. This little guy right here could be used for so much more! I just need to keep working on it.”

“Really?” Nora raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Well, if everything goes well, they could also give off heat, almost like a mini sun.” She explained. “That way, I could grow plants that only grow in warm climates even during the cold season.”

The pink-clad girl hated herself for having to burst her bubble.

“...you do know we live on a tropical island, right?” She pointed out. “We don’t exactly have cold seasons.”

But much to her surprise, the doll just shrugged nonchalantly. “I know.” Then, she flashed her a knowing look. “But not everyone lives on a tropical island, right? I figured you could establish a solid trade with the Twelvians if you offered them the chance to grow produce all year round in exchange for their alliance or whatever you need.”

Nora was so taken aback by her logic, by the way the young, naïve, inexperienced Divine Doll somehow managed to be three steps ahead, that she didn’t hear her question.

Blinking rapidly, she asked her to repeat herself almost absentmindedly.

“What do you think? Do you like it?” Amalia repeated her question. There was so much hope and anticipation in her brown gaze that the Eliatrope knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that if her king had seen it, he would have keeled over. She’d be lying to herself if she said she couldn’t relate to the feeling, to be honest…

Luckily for her, this time she could afford to be as honest as she wanted. “It’s wonderful, Amalia. Like a small Sadida star.”

Yugo’s heart would have stopped at the way she beamed under the praise. Hers sure did.

After that, the two agreed that it was high time they really focused back on their task and completed it once and for all. So, turning back to their respective pillars, the two women went back to decorating, Amalia’s little star lighting up the hall and making things easier for them. Even if Nora wouldn’t admit it was actually more helpful than her own, trained sight.

They had been working in silence for a while, making steady progress, when Nora sensed it. A rather pronounced shift in Amalia’s wakfu and the air between them. The light-hearted atmosphere had turned heavy and stifling, and she already knew what the doll was going to say before she even opened her mouth.

“Nora,” she started, and the Eliatrope braced herself. “Do you really think it’s best to leave Yugo in the dark regarding what happened with Efrim?”

Steeling herself, she repeated the same reasoning she gave her when it all happened. “Yes, Amalia. Trust me. My brother already has a lot on his plate, the last thing he needs is to worry about his little brother.”

“I know, it’s just…” A pregnant pause. Even if she didn’t turn around, Nora was listening intently. “I just don’t feel comfortable hiding things from him, that’s all.”

“Well, don’t be. You’ll see, all Efrim needs is a little time to get over himself and get used to you. Before you know it, he’ll be fully accepting of you and it’ll be like that little incident between you two never happened.” She tried to imbue her voice with as much reassurance and confidence as she could, her own concerns calming down when the Divine Doll finally relented, muttering how she was probably right.

This time, the pang of guilt she felt over her own selfishness hurt a little less.

.........................................................................................................................

There were many upsides to having her own garden. The chance to truly test her limits and explore her Sadida magic to its full potential was the most obvious one. Even if she maintained she wanted to grow her plants the traditional way and give them time to blossom on their own unless it was absolutely necessary to speed up the process, Amalia still got to experiment with them a little.

First were her Sadida dolls, all of them acting nearly independently from her despite being bound to their mistress. Those little rag dolls were the best assistants a Sadida could ever ask for! While some of them remained near her to lend a raggedy hand as she worked on her latest project, many others busied themselves around the garden, tending to its various needs—controlling irrigation, working the ground for new seeds, measuring each plant got the necessary sunlight and the ground’s pH levels, fertilising the crops…

She had yet to work out the final kinks on her explosive dolls, but since it wasn’t a priority, Amalia wasn’t worried.

Another reason to be thankful for her garden was that she felt like she could really make a difference with it. While her training with Glip and Baltazar was her way of helping herself, her garden opened countless possibilities for the Eliatropes. Thanks to her instinctive knowledge of nature and her innate green thumb, Amalia didn’t just know what to grow to meet their needs, but she was also capable of anticipating them before she was even informed there was a need for anything at all.

And right now, they needed medicinal herbs and plants they could extract healing substances from. All she had to do was wait for Qilby and Shinonomé to pay her their long-awaited visit and inform her of what exactly she had to grow. As deep as Amalia’s connection to plants was, she had to admit she wasn’t confident enough to act on her own and impose her gut feeling on them. Rather, she preferred to trust their judgement, as the Crimson Twins were their people’s medics and, judging from what Shinonomé told her all those weeks ago, their knowledge on medicine would rival even the most powerful and experienced of Eniripsas.

Perks of living thousands of years and remembering every single lifetime, she supposed. Although she could never shake the feeling that there was something more going on beneath the surface. The graveness in the dragoness’ voice as she shared their story etched onto the lines of her long, elegant face kept flashing through the doll’s mind.

Shaking those memories away, for it would be of no help to dwell on them now, Amalia focused back on the task at hand. She let out a blissful sigh as she relished the feeling of her hands coming into contact with the soft grass. That gentle coolness as the blades caressed her skin. Already they had so much to tell.

By far, the best thing about having her own garden was the fact that it allowed her to connect with nature on a much more personal level, easing her Sadida instincts as they finally answered plant-life’s call, listening intently to its soft, yet lively, voice.

As much as she’d come to like Oma Island and its many wonders, nothing could beat the feeling of becoming one with Sadida’s treasures. What good was it to know the language of the trees if you could never hear them because you were too far apart? Even as she stood on her balcony, her body leaning forward precariously to the point where she constantly risked falling down, all that managed to make its way to her were soft murmurs. There simply was no comparison with the symphony of voices reaching her now.

While a Sadida’s link to nature couldn’t be broken even by death itself, staying away from the greenery was still unnatural. Sadida knew it best—the best way to keep your feet on the ground was to go barefoot so you’d be able to feel its many wonders.

Oh, how had she missed the ever-present embrace of plant-life in her daily life! It was such a stark contrast going from being surrounded by otherworldly plants and trees in her father’s dimension, to being enclosed in stone walls here at the Eliatrope palace. Even her adventures with Yugo were but an appetiser. Something meant to make her work up an appetite as she waited for the main course.

But now, her meal was finally served, and all her needs were finally sated.

That was when she felt it, that familiar pulse going through her that never failed to disorient her at the same time as it grounded her.

A small gasp escaped her lips, not because she was genuinely surprised—she had been waiting for the next time it would pounce—, but because, even then, she could never predict when the pull would manifest itself again.

Yet, there it was. As usual, she could sense the energy radiating from it was fainter than what it should actually be, but that didn’t change the fact that it was still powerful, all-encompassing, beckoning. The pull circled all over her form like a snake, coming to rest over her heart, only she wasn’t afraid. Whatever it was, something deep inside her told Amalia she should never fear it. So, she didn’t fear it.

Instead, she followed it.

Hands still resting against the floor, she focused all her attention on the burst of energy coming from within and expelled it. Suddenly, the pull gained volume, form, morphing from a simple feeling into a thread, something she could follow and trace back. It wasn’t enough so she could have a clear reading on its origin, but it was more than she had had in months.

Taking one last deep breath to steel herself, Amalia chose to follow its lead.

She was immediately mesmerised by what she saw through her third eye. That thread, a thin, nearly unsuspecting thing of emerald green, seemed to be connected to everything! Wherever she looked, every root, every flower, every bush and tree and even weed had at least one tendril of the same strand coming out of them and convening at the same cord. That same, all-consuming cord tracing back as far as met the eye.

Using every ounce of concentration she possessed, she tried following it to its very origin. Perhaps if she quite literally followed the thread, she’d be able to unravel the mystery.

Her brow furrowed in deep concentration, Amalia followed the filament back to what felt like entire continents, each plant it was connected to telling a completely unique story. She was getting closer, she could feel it with every urgent thumping of her heart. It was as if all she had to do was reach out her hand and—.

“Did we come at a bad time?”

Just like that, like someone had cut the connection with a pair of scissors, the thread was gone. Caught off guard by the sudden change, Amalia snapped her eyes open, letting out a small gasp. Blinking wearily a few times, she turned her head every which way, trying to find her bearings. It took her a little longer than she cared to admit to taking notice of Qilby and Shinonomé looking down at her with varying expressions of intrigue.

When she finally did, it was like a slap on the face.

She hastily sprung up to her feet, muttering rushed apologies and sheepish explanations of what she’d been up to and how time seemed to get away from her, all the while she nervously dusted her clothes off.

When she finally (begrudgingly) understood she wouldn’t be able to look any more presentable than she did already—her pants stained with grass at the knees, dirt underneath her fingernails, beads of sweat pooling under her bangs, and her green ponytail askew and dishevelled—, she tried to clear her throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant instead.

“Qilby, Shinonomé! It’s great to see you again! What brings you here?” She internally winced the moment the words were out of her mouth, her brain too slow to catch up with her tongue.

As always, Qilby was kind enough to remind her exactly what brought them there.

“My, Lady Amalia! We’re here because we had agreed on coming to tell you all about the plants we need you to grow for our clinic. Do Divine Dolls have such bad short-term memory?” He adjusted his glasses smugly as he regarded an uncomfortable Amalia like she was one of his souvenirs, only to let out a yelp of protest when his sister elbowed him softly.

Without even sparing him a glance, the dragoness smiled down at the doll. “Do forgive my brother, my Lady. You know how he can be; he just loves to tease!”

“Right. Of course…” Amalia muttered, not too convinced but eager to move the conversation along. Perking up again, she gestured for the twins to follow her. “If you please, I’d like to show you the space I have prepared in anticipation of your visit. As soon as you tell me what you need, I can start working on it.”

With quiet agreements and nods of assent, Qilby and Shinonomé followed the Divine Doll to a remote corner of the garden. One look at the ground beneath their feet was enough to know the earth had already been worked on in preparation for the upcoming crops.

“As you can see, we’ve organised the ground into different sections,” she pointed at each of them. “Each one will hold a specific species you’re in need of. Thanks to this separation, they won’t steal nutrients from each other and harm their development.”

“Quite ingenious, my Lady.” At least, it would be if it weren’t because their people had been doing the same thing for generations. Qilby had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, in fear of his sister delivering another painful elbow to his side.

To his surprise, the doll just waved his praise off. “Not at all! These are all very common agriculture techniques. Even your farmers use them.”

While her twin was left floundering like a fish, Shinonomé intervened. “That is quite true, Lady Amalia. Thank you for taking it into account.”

She shrugged, smiling, “If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.” This time, both of them were taken off guard by what she said, “Besides, most plants like it better this way. It’s the most fair solution.”

“Right, I forgot she speaks plant.” Qilby noted sarcastically, his dragon twin agreeing through their psychic link.

“Well!” Qilby clasped his hands loudly to get the doll’s attention, the grin on his face just a tad too big to be genuine. “As fascinating as this all is, my sister and I would truly hate to impose on you for much longer. So if it is alright with you, we have taken the liberty of listing everything we need. We hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, no. That’s quite alright, and very thoughtful of you.” She took the piece of paper out of Shinonomé’s proffered hand and skimmed over its contents with a critical eye. Then, she snapped her fingers, summoning a group of Sadida dolls to aid her—making both siblings jump; Qilby clutching his chest— and, without further ado, set out to work.

As Amalia instructed her little helpers to get the seeds and tools they would need and they scurried off to complete their assigned tasks, Qilby and Shinonomé kept trying to sidestep the dolls as they came and went. At one point, the dragoness had to grab one by the tail and, with a stern look and a puff of smoke in warning that made it flinch in fright, set it back on the ground. Qilby had half the mind not to summon a portal and have all the enchanted toys tumble out of its other end.

They couldn’t afford to look too impatient or purposeful. They had chosen that day specifically to visit the Sadida Doll for a reason, and they weren’t going to let such a perfect chance go to waste.

None the wiser to the Crimson Twins’ struggles with her dolls, Amalia had once again crouched down on the ground, her hands gently setting the earth apart to plant the seeds she would need. At first she’d been worried she wouldn’t have everything they needed and would have to create those species from scratch—not an impossible task, but one that would require a lot more time and dedication. Fortunately, the worst didn’t come to pass; she had every plant and herb they needed right in her garden. All she had to do was grow them.

With that problem taken care of, her mind wandered to tackle the next issue. The matter with irrigation. While she had access to plenty of water and she just needed to ask the guards to fetch her some more whenever she was running low, the doll still didn’t feel comfortable relying so much on the Eliatropes for that.

It was true neither the village nor the castle seemed to suffer any sort of shortage in water, but she still had no idea how they managed. After all, they lived on an island—yes, they had plenty of water around, but it was sea water. It wasn’t exactly low on sodium.

Maybe Chibi and Grougal had developed some sort of cutting edge filtering system?

With a sigh, she shook her head from those thoughts. It wouldn’t do much to overthink things. What mattered was that she could water her garden. Although, a part of her couldn’t help but wish she were friends with a Cra. She heard from the Matriarch back at Bonta that they sometimes shot rain arrows for the Sadida whenever their crops risked suffering due to a drought.

“We really hope we aren’t keeping you away from anything too important, Lady Amalia.” Shinonomé told her kindly, coming to stand beside her before crouching down as well. The Divine Doll looked up in surprise when she began to help her with the seeds her dolls kept bringing.

Once her initial surprise had worn off, she just shook her head. “No, not at all. I’m really glad that you came to me about this.”

“We simply don’t wish to impose.” Qilby interjected, coming to stand behind his sister as he observed the scene. “You must be so busy these days…”

Amalia ducked her head shyly, an opportunity the Crimson Twins used to exchange smirks while she wasn’t looking. Through their bond, Shinonomé told her brother to wait a little while longer, for the perfect cue.

Eventually, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the doll just waved it all off. “It’s no problem, really. I’m sure you are probably busier than me, with preparing for Sacred Dance Day and all…” Unbeknownst to Amalia, the twins’ smirks widened, a sly glint in their eyes as the perfect opportunity presented itself. They quickly schooled their faces back into friendly neutrality when she turned back to face them. “Yet you still took the time to prepare this and come see me. Really, I should be the one thanking you.”

“Well, we did keep you waiting long enough…” The dragoness commented airily, standing up and dusting herself off.

“So how about we say we’re even?” Qilby offered. His eyes wrinkled from behind his glasses. “Although… It is true Sacred Dance Day tends to take a lot out of us.”

Shinonomé, reading her twin’s cue, continued without missing a beat, “How could it not? It’s such an important holiday, after all!”

“Yeah, Yugo told me all about it the other day.” She giggled excitedly. “I can’t wait to see it for myself!”

Shinonomé, golden eyes glinting, leaned closer to Amalia, her ruby-hued claws grabbing onto her shoulders like a bird of prey. “Oh, did he tell you about how everyone comes together to make the ceremony a success?”

The doll nodded. “Something like that, yes.” Then, after a moment of consideration, “He said you guys recreate your goddess and the Great Dragon’s first dance, right?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise…” She trailed off meaningfully, letting go of Amalia as she strolled around her garden, pretending to show interest for her plants. “It’s much better to see it with your own two eyes, you know. Though I suppose I should tell you the real beauty of Sacred Dance Day is how it brings all of us together.”

“Really?”

“Why, indeed!” It was Qilby who answered, adjusting his glasses. “At the height of the night, we all come together to recreate one of the most pivotal moments in our entire history! That’s why it’s so important we all work together, because it reminds us that we’re one and the same and brings us closer.”

Amalia felt her heart warm up at the sentiment. She could already picture it all so clearly. Families huddled closer together as they watched the show. Couples, young and old, celebrating by dancing underneath it all. The older generation reminiscing on the good times. Yugo’s presence by her side filling her up with comfort and that weird feeling she didn’t understand but deeply cherished… She could hardly wait.

Qilby, who had been watching Amalia’s wistful expression for an opening, had to suppress his smirk when he casually, almost too innocently, mused, “And this year promises to be quite intriguing indeed.”

Broken out of her stupor, the doll raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

He just looked at her meaningfully, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And, in a way, it was.

“Why, because of you, my Lady!” He exclaimed jovially, gesturing at her. “It’s the first time we ever have one of Sadida’s Dolls with us. And since your magic doesn’t work like ours, that means it will also be the first time not all of us get to participate in the recreation.” Wincing with fake sympathy, he crossed his arms and held his head in his palm. “Such a pity. Nothing says ‘togetherness’ like Sacred Dance Day…”

It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water over Amalia. Just like that, all of her previous fantasies had vanished in a puff of smoke. Now, instead of the comforting warmth and electric anticipation she had been feeling these past few days, all that was left was the freezing grip of disappointment cracking open her heart. She had never felt more alien to the Eliatropes as she did in that moment.

Shinonomé, sensing she was at the verge of her breaking point, schooled her calculating features into a pitying yet empathetic look. Stepping closer to Amalia, she brought a hand to her chest, her voice reassuring at the doll’s side. Eyes glinting like a snake about to swallow her prey whole, she went in for the kill:

“But don’t worry, my dear. Just because you can’t do anything for us on such a special day, it doesn’t mean you’re not part of our community. It just means that we might need more… time to get used to your presence, that’s all.”

That finished doing her in. Her Ogrine heart thudded painfully against her ribs.

There it was again, that familiar feeling of hopelessness, of uselessness. The same nagging reminder of Efrim’s cruel words as he pinned her against the cold, hard floor and his ice cold eyes bore into her soul. Mocking her and her efforts to fit in.

“You know nothing!”

“Some demigoddess you are.”

“And to think you have the gall to say you understand.”

She winced at the familiar venom that intoxicated her mind and coursed through her veins, turning her blood ice cold. Biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood, she had to suppress the urge to bring her hands to her ears in an attempt to drown it all out. Partly because she was still aware that she had company, and the last thing she wanted was to worry Qilby and Shinonomé. But mostly because she already knew that wouldn’t be enough to quiet the echoes of Efrim’s taunts.

The Crimson Twins’ words had struck a chord within her, and the chord had snapped.

They were right, of course they were! Everyone was doing everything in their power to make this year’s Sacred Dance Day truly memorable. Not only would they be celebrating it in their new home—which had yet to fully accept them—for the first time, but they were still recovering from the war with the Mechasms.

Amalia may have never been involved in a war, but even she understood trying to find joy amidst all the chaos and destruction had to be a specially grueling and challenging task. Something that truly tested the limits of your hope and faith. So celebrating their most sacred holiday now, away from home where it actually meant something? That had to be the very definition of bittersweet.

She just wished she’d realised all that sooner.

The doll bit down on her lip even harder as soon as the easily recognisable sting of tears pooling in the corner of her eyes made itself known. It took everything in her power not to cry out of frustration with herself. But she couldn’t cry, not when the Eliatropes had already lost so much and they still remained strong. She couldn’t cry, no matter how chagrined she was for not being able to do anything to soothe their pain and contribute to the ceremony.

She blinked rapidly, keeping the tears at bay still, when she felt someone tugging at her pants. Looking down in surprise, she smiled faintly at the sight of one of her dolls trying to get her attention, its large, little head tilted in curiosity as she peered up at her.

“That’s right”, she tried to tell herself. “I’m already doing my best to help them. I help the Council navigate the tangled world of Twelvian politics. My garden and my expertise are entirely at their disposal. I help around the palace whenever it’s needed…”

But a voice that sounded surprisingly like Efrim’s kept whispering at her that ‘It wasn’t enough’, and ‘She certainly wouldn’t be much help during Sacred Dance Day.’

Her hands curled into fists at her sides, her teeth gnashing together in aggravation. No, it wasn’t enough. She needed to find something to do for Sacred Dance Day, to show Yugo and his people how much she appreciated everything they’d done for her and how much she respected them, but what?

Her back turned to them as she pondered on what to do, Amalia failed to notice Qilby and Shinonomé sending each other triumphant glances as they observed her fidgeting, relishing in her internal conflict.

“She makes it so easy to toy with her, I almost feel bad for her.” Qilby smiled at his twin. His glasses glinted maliciously as he adjusted them. “Key word being ‘almost’.”

“She truly is too naïve for her own good.” Shinonomé agreed, her hands clasped before her and her back straight as an arrow. The only thing differing from her regal and composed exterior were the subtle flickers of her tail that betrayed her own self-satisfaction.

“Well, that just ensures our plans go off without a hitch, doesn’t it?” He looked at his nails, almost bored.

The dragoness’ expression darkened. “Don’t call victory quite yet, my dear Brother.” She warned, her tone growing serious and stern. “Just because she’s easy to manipulate doesn’t mean the war is already won. You forget Yugo.”

At that, the bespectacled Eliatrope couldn’t find it in himself to care about holding back a derisive scoff, clearly offended. He likewise ignored it when his dragon twin shhed him to be quiet.

“Please, Sister. You know I could never forget about anything. It’s our burden, remember?” He asked rhetorically, his words laced with a sarcastic sing-songy tone. His ironic smile dropped off his face. “Besides, with his little flower taken care of, Yugo won’t take much convincing to finally leave this dump and reclaim our rightful place amongst the stars.”

His twin hummed thoughtfully, her golden gaze watching him intently. “All I am saying is that we had better not grow too cocky. Overconfidence can cost us everything.”

But her brother just waved her concerns off, causing her to narrow her slitted eyes on him. While she was the only person Qilby actually listened to without any ulterior motive, there were times where even her warnings went unheeded. She honestly feared the kind of trouble he would get up to if she weren’t around to keep him in line.

“You worry too much, Sister.”

“And you worry too little.”

He tsked his tongue, not appreciating the interruption. “Nevertheless, the seeds of doubt have already been planted. Amalia is bound to sabotage herself in her conviction that she’s not good enough for our people, let alone Yugo. And Yugo will begin to lose faith in her when he realises his precious doll is keeping things from him.” He traced his finger over the length of one of her horns with purposeful strokes, a self-assured grin plastered over his face yet again. “Trust me. Whatever relationship might be blossoming between our dear King and Sadida’s little girl will be over before it even has a chance to start.

“And the best part of it all?” His smirk turned down-right dark, the shadows falling over his face giving it a sinister quality that sent a shiver down even Shinonomé’s back. “It will die by their own hands. Delightfully ironic, don’t you think?” Even the red-scaled woman had to admit it was kind of creepy how chipper he sounded all of a sudden, but she just shrugged it off. She was used to far bigger discrepancies when it came to her Eliatrope twin.

However, as her golden eyes settled back on Amalia as she got back to work—her almost robotic actions and nearly blank expression that contrasted greatly with the demons in her gaze a reflection of the whirlwind that probably was her mind—, all Shinonomé could do was hope her brother didn’t forget how most seeds died sooner or later without the appropriate care.

Her eyes flickering to the position of the sun as it filtered through the windows, and seeing as their job there was done, she found it was finally time to wrap the conversation up.

“You’ll have to forgive us, Lady Amalia, but we have a meeting to get to.” She began, already turning on her heel and making her way out of the garden. “The Council wishes to discuss possible ways to earn the Twelvians’ trust and, naturally, Qilby and I can’t miss it.”

“Please, do keep us informed of your progress.” The eldest Eliatrope called after her over his shoulder as he followed after his sister.

And with that, they left her alone with her thoughts and feelings of inadequacy.

....................................................................................................................

It was Adamaï who alerted him that something was wrong.

At first, Yugo feared whoever had been spying on Amalia had returned—and he told Ad as much—, but his brother was quick to reassure him it wasn’t like that. But it definitely had something to do with Amalia.

“She seems… worried about something.” He began, rubbing the back of his head as he struggled to find the words. “Like there’s something on her mind but she doesn’t know how to deal with it. And have you noticed how fidgety and intense she’s been lately? I don’t know, Lil’ Bro, but something’s off.”

Now that Adamaï mentioned it, he had definitely noticed something strange with the doll’s behaviour. All of a sudden, she was very insistent on doing whatever she could to help with the preparations for the upcoming festivity. She went wherever an extra pair of hands was needed, regardless of if she’d been asked to or not.

At first he just shrugged it off as her being very excited for Sacred Dance Day, but Ad was right. That level of overzealousness was just odd. He’d better talk to her about it.

And by ‘he’, he meant ‘they’.

Of course, Adamaï had tried to protest at first, but the moment his brother pointed out the fact that Amalia could easily brush his concerns off as him overthinking things, so he would need all the back-up he could get, he finally relented. …and he may or may not have played the King Card on him to get him to cooperate. But, hey! Ad had been using the Older Brother Card to get away with a lot of things back when they were kids. It was only fair.

She had been helping the kitchen staff carry the ingredients the chef would need for the celebratory banquet when they found her. Her head snapped up when he called out to her, a small smile that tugged at his heartstrings spreading over her lips when her brown eyes met his.

“I’ll be right back, Serviette.” She told the maid kindly, who freed her from her literal burden by opening a portal and dumping the ingredients in it (since they were close enough to the kitchen by then).

Dusting her hands off from any remaining flour or crumbs, she made her way over to the king and his dragon twin and beamed up at them. “Yugo, Ad, hi! I didn’t expect to see guys here.” She tilted her head to the side, her smile now growing tentative as she raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

After much consideration, Yugo came to the conclusion that the best course of action was to rip the band-aid off as soon as possible.

“We actually want to know if you’re okay.” He blurted out.

“Smooth…” Adamaï muttered sarcastically as he leaned closer to him.

He received an elbow to his rib for his troubles.

Amalia panicked at his question. Still, she managed to maintain a façade of calmness long enough to shoot back, “What do you mean by that? I’m perfectly fine, guys.”

Both brothers wore matching wincing expressions. Yugo sighed heavily when Ad sent him a meaningful look and nodded towards the doll with his head—saying something about how he ‘was only there for moral support’. The king was so busy pinching his nose in frustration at his brother’s lack of actual support that he almost didn’t see a bewildered Amalia begin to take a few steps back.

“Well…” she drawled out, taking measured steps and pointing behind her with her thumb. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but I should probably get back to work. See you later!” She gave them a friendly wave and was about to make a run for it when Yugo’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“Amalia, wait. Please.” There was so much feeling in his voice it physically hurt her to even think about getting away. So she didn’t. Her cheeks warmed a little when, noticing this, he rewarded her with one of his sweet smiles.

Her own smile faltered when he started talking about her recent behaviour. She had hoped he wouldn’t notice it, but one sideways look at Adamaï’s nodding form was all she needed to know everything in relation to her would always find its way back to Yugo one way or another.

The doll felt the unreasonable urge to call the dragon a traitor in her mind, even though they had never agreed on keeping quiet about anything. She fought back the urge to pout; it just made her feel better.

Unaware of her current train of thought, Yugo chose to finally address the dragon in the room (aside from Adamaï, of course). “We’re just a little concerned, that’s all. And we were wondering if there was anything you wanted to talk about?”

She chose to play dumb. “No, not at all. What makes you think that?”

She didn’t expect Ad to be so blunt.

“Because you’ve been helping out on the preparations for Sacred Dance Day.” Before she could ask what was wrong with that, he cut her off by raising a claw. “Normally, that’d be fine and dandy—the more, the merrier, as they say! But, don’t you think you’ve been a little too…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words. He doubted she would appreciate being described as ‘manic’ or ‘obsessive’...

“We think you’ve been a little too eager to help.” As always, Yugo came through for his twin, who sent him a grateful nod.

Amalia sputtered, incredulous. “‘Too eager to help’? How in the Doll Master’s name can someone be ‘too eager to help’?” She air-quoted sarcastically before crossing her arms in a huff. “And how is that a problem?”

“Normally, it wouldn’t be.” Yugo started off diplomatically. He winced when all the doll did was curl in on herself tighter, her walls coming up. That wasn’t good. She was growing defensive and that was the opposite of what they wanted. He had to do something to get her to open up, and soon.

So he did what he did best in times of crisis. He took action.

He could already feel her defences dissolve when he gently grabbed her by the shoulders, his voice impossibly soft as he tried to coax her into talking to them. Understanding what he was trying to do, it wasn’t long until Ad followed his lead, coming to stand beside Amalia and wrapping his tail around her form comfortingly.

Still, she was one stubborn doll. “I’m only trying to help.” She insisted.

“We know, and that’s great! We really appreciate it.” Yugo assured her, Adamaï nodding by her side. “We just think you might be overworking yourself.”

Amalia was about to protest when Adamaï pointed out. “Just yesterday, you were helping Bartoloblé bake some cookies for the party. The second you were done with that and you heard Marie say she needed help taking some last minute offerings to the temple, you volunteered yourself.”

“That’s not such a big deal.” Amalia retorted.

“It is when right after going up and down about two hundred steps, you offered to help set up the stands for the games.” Yugo shot back without missing a beat. “You’ve been running around like a headless chicken for three days straight with barely a break! Do you understand why we’d worry?”

His brown gaze bore into hers as he asked her the question, and Amalia could hardly stand it. Eventually, she lowered her head in shame and she began to play with her bangs. The concern reflected in Yugo’s eyes was almost unbearable, more so because it was directed at her and the last thing she ever wanted was to make him worry.

“Amalia, whatever it is that’s on your mind, you can tell us. You know that, right?”

There was so much tenderness in his voice she had to muster every ounce of self-control she possessed not to cry. More so when Adamaï leaned closer to her and whispered softly, “We’re here for you.”

The doll considered this. She considered confiding in the Emerald Twins her fears and concerns regarding the upcoming celebration and her role in it—or lack thereof. Was it really okay if she couldn’t participate in the recreation of the First Dance? Was there anything she could do to make up for it?

She had been trying to amend her shortcomings these past few days, hence why she volunteered herself to help with whatever she could get her hands into. She had baked so many cookies, she feared she had lost her appetite for them forever. Climbing and going down the stairs leading up to the temple while carrying offerings just had to count as cardio and weight-lifting, she had the soreness in her body to prove it. Somehow, she got a splinter from helping out with the stands. How was that even possible?! She was a Sadida Doll, for crying out loud! Trees and the wood they produced were her domain!

And the worst part was that, no matter how much she exerted herself, it never felt like compensation enough.

Eyes glittering, she looked up at Yugo, mouth already parted to tell him everything, when—

“Yugo won’t always be there to protect you, you know?”

And just like that, her resolve to be honest with Yugo, to burden him with her problems, was gone.

Yugo and Adamaï knew it was coming before she ever even opened her mouth. One moment, there was a resolute fire in the doll’s eyes, a determination they naïvely believed meant she would finally reveal what was tearing her up inside. And the next, that same fire flickered out of existence. Like it had never been there.

She smiled up at them—a sweet little thing, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you, but I really am fine.”

The Emerald Twins could only frown sadly as she got back to her previous task of transporting ingredients. Once she was out of earshot, Adamaï clamped a hand on his twin’s shoulder in an attempt to cheer him up.

“Don’t worry too much about it, Lil’ Bro. I’m sure she’ll come to you when she’s ready.” His heart squeezed in sympathy for his brother when his dejected gaze remained on the spot the doll had occupied just moments before.

“Then why does it feel that whenever something’s on her mind, I’m the last person she wants to go to for help?” He mused aloud, his hands going to toy mindlessly with what was stored in his cloak pocket.

His eyes following the movement, the white-and-blue dragon tried to instill some positivity into the conversation. “I’m sure all she needs is time. Deep down, she’s only known us for a few months. Before you know it, you two will be like two peas in a pod.”

The corners of the king’s lips turned up slightly, a flicker of hope returning to his eyes. “Do you really think so?”

“I know so. You’re already halfway there.” He smiled back. Then, eying the object in his twin’s hand, he nudged him playfully. “At the very least, I’m sure your little present will help you bridge that gap.”

Now smiling more genuinely, if a little bashfully, as he looked down, Yugo sincerely hoped his brother was right. They’d bridge that gap. Together.

.......................................................................................................................

Any other day, Amalia would be buzzing with excitement at the prospect of getting a fitting session with the palace tailor, Mr. Needlesworth. The idea of getting to discuss fabrics, shapes, styles, and accessories with such a knowledgeable fashion guru usually sent a thrill down her spine. It was kind of ironic, that a Divine Doll, someone who didn’t have much use, let alone opportunities, for shopping would come to enjoy the process of designing and creating an entirely new outfit from scratch so much. But there she was.

The only real downside was having to remain completely still for hours on end as Mr. Needlesworth sewed the materials together or added the last finishing touches. It was especially gruesome to feel his needles prickling her skin. It reminded her of when she was first created, and there was something odd about remembering your own birth.

But now that her mind was exhausted from dodging Yugo’s questions and battling with herself over pouring her heart out to him or not? Now that her body was sore from running around for several days trying to help, sometimes without even using her powers?

The moment she opened the door to the dexterous Eliatrope and welcomed him into her room she already knew she was most likely going to fall asleep standing while he worked on her dress.

She had already been about to nod off a few times while they were discussing how she wanted her dress to look like. Even in her half-delirious state, she had found it odd that he didn’t insist on adding anything even remotely Eliatrope to the design. Unlike the last time she had to dress up, there was no sign of even their emblem on her person.

And the worst part was that Mr. Needlesworth wasn’t dumb. On the contrary, he was acutely aware of her subdued attitude and the heaviness of her eyelids. A stark contrast to her usual enthusiastic self.

More than once, he would question her as politely as possible, “My Lady, are you quite alright? Because if you’re too tired, we could always postpone this to another day. I’ll make sure to reserve some time for you.”

And each and every time she would offer him a weak smile and insist, “Sacred Dance Day is in two days, Mr. Needlesworth; we don’t have much time left. Thank you for your consideration, but I’m perfectly fine.”

The bushy-haired, stout Eliatrope would then regard her with worried icy blue eyes, his compassionate smile small but kind even as the ends of his moustache dropped in sympathy, before focusing back on the task at hand.

It couldn’t have been more than an hour or two, but to the sleep-deprived doll, it felt like an eternity.

First, they discussed the kind of outfit she wanted. Amalia barely gave the tailor enough time to present all the possible options before she blurted out she wanted a dress. To his credit, while the doll blushed sheepishly, all Mr. Needlesworth did was chuckle and say, “Of course.”

With that out of the way, they could choose the materials. While the first thing the talented couturier did upon entering was assure the doll that she had the final say in the design of her outfit, Amalia also recognised he was the expert, so she listened intently to all his suggestions and the reasons behind them. Even though the Eliatrope holiday took place in the Twelvian month of Descendre, which marked the beginning of winter and its cold temperatures, the fact that they lived on an island meant they remained largely unaffected by the inclement weather. Meaning it would certainly be too warm for thicker fabrics; instead, he suggested cooler ones like cotton, lynen, satin… In the end, she went for georgette.

Then, came the colour.

At first, the Divine Doll wanted to go for a beige and orange ensemble, but Mr. Needlesworth wisely shut that idea down. He explained it wasn’t bad per se, but since she spent most of her time with her adventuring outfit, which combined beige, orange, and white already, she might want to choose something different and ‘spice things up a bit,’ as he said.

Amalia considered his words, her thumb and index finger holding her chin pensively, and found he made an excellent point. When she asked for his opinion, the tailor suggested she chose green instead, seeing as it matched her hair and created a lovely contrast with her dark skin, as well as the fact that she made quite an impression with her dress for the banquet at Bonta, which also included green. If she was being honest with herself, Amalia had to admit she didn’t really wear green that often, even though it was the colour of life, a symbol of Sadida and his followers. And even though a small part of her cringed at the idea of standing out as an even bigger outsider amongst the Eliatropes, the rest of her resigned herself to her fate.

What was yet another reminder of her otherness at this point?

With the basics out of the way, it was time for designing the dress itself—by that point, Amalia was fighting the urge to just drop dead with every fiber of her being. Immortality be darned.

After inspecting some sketches Mr. Needlesworth had been so kind as to bring along with him, the Sadida Doll opted for a floor-length, full circle skirt. Thinking back to what he said about tropical weather, she decided to be a little bold and, instead of a full top, she asked for the dress to be backless, while two pieces of fabric tied around her neck by a chain exposed her collarbone and midsection. Her cheeks grew warm when she realised the garment would only really cover her breasts, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t like the final result. Moreover, Mr. Needlesworth’s moustache moved alongside his approving grin, and he assured her it would be nothing but tasteful.

Now all that was left was the accessories. To be perfectly honest, the Sadida Doll was at a loss in that regard. She was used to wearing wristbands and anklets as means of accessorising, but given her dress’ overall design, combining the two would clash—her long skirt would hide her anklets from view, and her usual wristbands just didn’t match the general aesthetic.

Massaging her temple, she had to cover her yawn behind her hand. “I must admit I have no idea what I want…”

“May I offer a suggestion?” Mr. Needlesworth proposed, to which the doll smiled and nodded as energetically as she could muster given her drowsy state.

“By all means! Your expertise has already helped me so far, I’m sure whatever you had in mind will be wonderful.”

“Oh, I’m not worthy of such high praise coming from you, my Lady.” He said modestly, rubbing underneath his nose shyly. “However, if you permit me…” He took out his previous sketches of the dress and showed them to Amalia again, who peered down at them curiously. Under her intent gaze, he pointed at the chain holding up her top. “If you ask me, I would say more metal adornments might be a great touch. Not only is jewelry incredibly flattering on most women, but it would also help make the incorporation of the original chain all the more seamless.”

Amalia considered this, her eyes glimmering as she pictured it. “What kind of jewelry did you have in mind?”

The couturier shrugged, pleased to see the approval in the doll’s eyes. “Anything, really.” He pointed at the waist of the sketched dress. “I would start by adding a matching belt, and from there it could evolve into armlets, bracelets, maybe even a headband like the one you sometimes wear but with metallic pieces dangling from it…”

The poor man barely had the time to finish listing his ideas off when the doll leaned closer into his personal space, her brown eyes starry and an almost manic grin on her face. “You had me at ‘anything, really’!”

And so, Mr. Needlesworth got to work. As he traced careful lines in search of the perfect outline for the jewelry Amalia would be wearing, the doll wondered aloud if it’d be possible to add a shawl to it. At first, she winced, for she didn’t mean for that to slip out and she was perfectly aware her Bonta dress had one as well, only to do a double take when the tailor shrugged nonchalantly yet again with a simple, “Sure, we could do that.”

Perplexed, she asked if he was sure, and he explained it would be easy enough to make a shawl that would differentiate itself from the previous one. Then, without even looking up from his sketchbook, he began to list all the possibilities available to make it just as unique—it could be a different yet complementary shade of green; instead of being tied around her neck, it could always hang from her arms; they could even incorporate it into her accessories…

The possibilities were endless as far as Mr. Needlesworth was concerned.

Once he had the general outline of the dress down, the bushy-haired Eliatrope had to excuse himself for a moment as he went back to his atelier and gathered all the materials he would need, from his sewing kit to the actual fabrics from which to make the dress. When he returned, he dismissed the apparent lack of metal as his needing to ask a blacksmith friend of his for a favour, but it shouldn’t be long and, most importantly, Amalia would get her dress just in time.

(He also wisely chose not to say anything when he witnessed, clear as day, how the sound of the door closing behind him as he returned had startled the Divine Doll awake, almost causing her to fall off from her chair).

And so, the real torture began.

Amalia had to fight her tiredness with everything she possessed so as to not fall asleep right then and there as the stout yet talented man worked on her dress. Although the feeling of being pricked with a needle every down and then certainly helped her keep her eyes open.

Unfortunately, the stillness and quiet didn’t just have the unfortunate side effect of threatening to send her straight to Draconiros’ realm. They also gave her plenty of time to think. And, as of late, her every thought had been dedicated to what she could offer to Sacred Dance Day.

Preparations were officially over. Every crook and cranny of Oma Island had been decorated with the traditional portals in stone and silken handkerchiefs. The stands for the games and similar activities leading up to the pièce de resistance had been all set up. The chef had already decided on what dishes to serve as well as he already had all the ingredients and kitchen tools needed for them. Mina, Phaeris, and Yugo were all hard at work for their respective roles in the ceremony, but that wasn’t something she could help in, anyway. The temple was nearly overflowing with offerings for the Great Goddess…

Indeed, there didn’t seem to be anything for her to help with anymore.

And yet, that fact unsettled her more than it calmed her.

There was just nothing she could do for the Eliatropes on such a special day! And worst of all, Yugo had noticed something was bothering her—because he always did—, and instead of coming clean about what was on her mind, she just smiled and lied—just like she always did. The guilt had been eating her alive ever since that night, when she finally had some time to think back on the day’s events and realise what she’d done. She already felt horrible for hiding what happened between Efrim and her from him, and now she added this onto her plate.

The only reason she didn’t smack her forehead was because Mr. Needlesworth would reprimand her from moving too much.

Oh, why had she let Efrim’s words get to her yet again? Would there ever be a time where they wouldn’t haunt her?

Too tired to care anymore, she let out a heavy sigh, her gaze downcast as she pondered on whether she should go look for Yugo after her fitting and tell him everything or face the consequences of her own actions. She was too engrossed in her mental debate, she missed when Mr. Needlesworth’s gaze flickered upwards and his brows furrowed into a concerned frown at her despondency.

“A flower this beautiful shouldn't look this sad so close to Sacred Dance Day.” He thought to himself. Then, with purposeful pricks as he adjusted the fabric around her skin, he set out to cheer her up as best as he could.

“You know, Lady Amalia, I should probably thank you.” He started off casually, yet sincerely. Perking up at his words, the Divine Doll tried to look down at him, but he merely shushed her and told her not to move.

Her spine so straight it threatened to snap any moment now, Amalia breathed out, “Thank me for what, Mr. Needlesworth?”

“For letting me make your dress for you.”

“Oh, no. It’s—,” she tried to shake her head, but once again the tailor wouldn’t let her. “It’s me who should be thankful that you’d agree to take the time out of your packed schedule to sew a dress for me. I can only imagine how busy you must be these days.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, my Lady, but I beg to differ.” He looked up from his task long enough to send her a kind smile from underneath his moustache. “You have no idea of the opportunity you have granted me with your request.”

Luckily, she was allowed to raise her eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

He chuckled and threw his arms to his sides, needle and thread still in hand. “Look around you! Do you see any other races besides our own around?”

“Um, no?”

Did dragons count?

“Exactly.” He nodded solemnly. “This is the first time in my life I get to design for someone who isn’t an Eliatrope. In fact, as a designer—as an artist—, one of the highlights of my job is getting to be as creative as possible and to take my designs to a whole new level.

“Adding something new and unique to a tried and true style is challenging enough, but getting to create something based on a whole different culture?” He chuckled, his mind going back to all the suits, and capes, and hats, and dresses he’d created over his life; now that he was working for a Divine Doll, he couldn’t help but feel they would always pale in comparison to whatever he came up with for her. “Now that’s what I consider the peak of my career.”

Humming noncommittally, he abandoned his place at the foot of the stool Amalia was standing up on to pick up some scissors to cut the excess of georgette fabric off the skirt. His back was turned to her as he rummaged through his sewing kit for the necessary tools.

“In my humble opinion, your presence here does us a lot of good.” He admitted, smirking in satisfaction as he took the scissors out of the kit and turned back around to continue with his work.

The doll’s eyes widened at his words. Deep down, she already knew that. The very reason for her presence in Oma Island was to help Eliatropes and Twelvians alike in their new coexistence, and she remembered how thankful the villagers had been to her for what the banquet at Bonta meant for them. But to hear Mr. Needlesworth say that aloud, completely unprompted, without Yugo around to perhaps make him praise her out of loyalty for their king… It made warmth spread all over Amalia’s chest as grateful tears pooled in the corner of her eyes.

“You really think so?” She asked, her voice quivering with emotion.

“Oh, I’m positive.” He insisted, a huge grin on his face. “The fact that you’re a—what was the word again? A Sadida Doll?—,” she nodded, “is just what we needed: a chance to live amongst someone different from us for a change and to be prepared for when we’re finally accepted by this world’s natives.”

Then he moved his hands to work on her top, their movements careful and respectful as he deliberately kept his eyes on her face.

“It’s a real shame we didn’t take your presence into account when organising the festivities this year, my Lady.” The tailor mused aloud, threading the fabric together with an expert hand. “Sacred Dance Day could have really used a Sadida touch as a symbol for new beginnings…”

Her emerald eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “You really think so?”

‘A symbol for new beginnings’... She found she quite liked the sound of that, of being able to add her own touch to the celebration. But alas, she had to suppress a resigned sigh and her hands curled into fists involuntarily at her sides. It wasn’t like she was any closer to discovering what she could do to contribute to the celebration when her magic worked so differently from theirs.

Later, she would attribute what happened to her father looking out for her, because at that point she had been so close to just giving up…

Instead, for some reason, she smiled down at the tailor at her feet and asked out of genuine curiosity. “What’s your favourite part of Sacred Dance Day, Mr. Needlesworth?”

“My favourite part?” He parroted, taken off guard by the question. Humming in thought, he brought a thimble-clad finger to his moustache and began to stroke it best he could. “I’d say it has to be the recreation of our goddess and the Great Dragon’s first dance.”

“I see.” Amalia snickered, not at all surprised by that answer. “Anything in particular you like about it?”

His next answer, however, did succeed at taking her aback.

“I suppose I just enjoy imagining what it was like, you know?” He let out a wistful sigh, his mind distant as he tried to picture how it all began. “I wonder what those first stars after the Krosmoz was created looked like… So ironic, one of the most beautiful things in creation, and nobody was around to see them.”

It was like a lightning strike.

The moment the white-haired couturier uttered those words in his reverie, the memory from the other day echoed in her mind, her eyes widening as realisation hit her.

“A Sadida star…” She murmured, her mind already whirling as the perfect plan materialised right in front of her.

“Huh?” Mr. Needlesworth tilted his head.

Just then, however, his confusion turned into shock and even mild alarm when his model suddenly hopped off the stool and, without much of an explanation, but with a hastily uttered apology thrown over her shoulder, she dashed right out of the room with her unfinished dress still on her person, the fabric fluttering behind her.

Expertly dodging the bewildered palace staff, she made it to her garden, where, after asking Mina and Phaeris for their opinion and receiving their approval, she remained all night as she set her plan in motion. Her previous exhaustion forgotten as the exhilaration of finding the solution to her troubles finally revealed itself to her.

At some point during the night, Mr. Needlesworth had to knock on her garden’s door to politely demand she hand her dress over to him so he could finish working on it—and to prevent it from getting dirty from being in contact with grass and dirt. Amalia at least had the decency to look embarrassed as she gave in to his more than justified request.

..........................................................................................................................

The air was bubbling with excitement, the party in full swing all around her.

Finally, Sacred Dance Day had arrived, and everyone was celebrating at the town square. Located at a far corner, an orchestra played wonderful melodies that accompanied the merriness of the holiday. Women and men alike mingled about, sharing their mornings with their families and reminiscing on previous years. The children’s laughter filled the square as they ran about and played, both with each other and with the many games set up around town. A few of them almost bumped into Amalia as they chased after each other; thankfully, the doll always managed to sidestep them before laughing and gently reminding them to be more careful.

While Amalia took the chance to have a look around, her grin more genuine than it had been in days thanks to the awe she felt at the sight of the festivities, the real crowd of people formed around the Council of Six. Every single member was surrounded by their own loyal entourage of subjects, who either congratulated them on a job well done in organising everything, or tackled issues pertaining to the area of expertise of each of them.

The doll couldn't help but smile proudly as the Eliatropes congratulated their king on his opening speech. For his part, Yugo looked beyond sheepish, clearly grateful for the praise, but still feeling a little self-conscious despite his clear experience on the matter. She wasn’t the only one that could be read like an open book—his boyish grin and his near constant rubbing of his neck gave him away.

Then again, it wasn’t like his subjects were wrong for looking up to him or complimenting him for his speech. Amalia stood a little ways off to his side from her place on the temple, just enough for her to be presented to the village while making sure their leaders remained front and centre, and his words still reached her as if they’d been dedicated solely to her. Try as she might to remain composed and with an elegant smile on her face, it didn’t take long for it to turn watery and for her to blink back the tears threatening to spill.

It was a very beautiful and impactful speech about the many, many hardships they had endured and how, despite it all, they still lived to celebrate another Sacred Dance Day. Regardless of the pain, and loss, and suffering, they were still standing, and nothing would ever bring their spirits down. By the time the Eliatrope King was done, he didn’t just receive thunderous applause and loud cheering from a kingdom that certainly adored him and who resonated with his message, but even the Divine Doll was clutching at her heart in admiration.

And with that, the celebration could commence.

Now that Yugo’s attention was elsewhere—after briefly glancing around to make sure no one was watching her—, Amalia let her gaze travel over the length of him, taking it all in. Even though she hid her disappointment well, she was more than a little chagrined when Mina and Phaeris ushered them outside before she got the time to admire how he looked.

While the rest of Oma Island got to spend the first half of the day with their family and loved ones, the palace was a flurry of activity. The staff ran about from one wing to the next as they tended to their leaders’ needs and demands as a result of their being busy with last minute adjustments to their outfits or the final revisions of what they would need.

The doll knew for a fact Yugo would be busy revising his speech, as would Mina and Phaeris with theirs and the preparations for the ceremony—she could have sworn she watched them leave the throne room carrying a large chest between the two of them—, what she didn’t know, however, was what everybody else was up to. Knowing she wouldn’t be getting any answers then, she eventually just shrugged it off and focused back on her own last minute check-ups.

Would it be too vain of her to say those last minute check-ups consisted of looking at her reflection in the mirror from all possible angles? Because, Sweet Sadida, Mr. Needlesworth had done an outstanding job with her dress!

As they had agreed on, her dress consisted of a stunning floor-length skirt and a crossed halter top tied around her neck by a medallion connected to a chain and a pear-like hue, revealing her back. As promised, the look was bold and perfect for the warm weather, yet the design was nothing but tasteful, making sure to expose only what she wanted to be seen. The skirt was cinched around her waist by a matching belt adorned with the same crystals as the medallion keeping her ensemble together. But that wasn’t the only accessory she was wearing that day.

Amalia wouldn’t have been able to keep herself from whimsically flailing her arms around even if she wanted to. True to his word, Mr. Needlesworth added the shawl she wanted: a delicate, lime-green tulle cloth that emerged from her matching pair of bronze bracelets and armlets on each arm and trailed behind her. She was mesmerised by everything, but her breath was especially taken away when she saw the wonderful headband the immensely talented tailor had designed for her.

True to his word, it resembled the one she wore when she first arrived at Oma, but it was far more elaborate. The white antlers didn’t stick upwards like Osamodas’ horns, rather they curved inwardly and branched out like an Elante’s, emerging from a flower crown like two imposing trees sticking out of a garden in bloom. Dangling from the antlers were several little silver chains from which hung pendants in all shapes and forms. And to really drive the point home that she was a Sadida, Mr. Needlesworth had gone the extra mile and added leaves all over her dress.

With her long, chartreuse hair down, she seriously doubted she had ever looked half as beautiful as she did in that moment. She only felt even more pleased with herself, her cheeks colouring and heart skipping a beat, when Yugo’s eyes landed on her right before they had to leave and they widened, his face going crimson. His blush—and her giggles—only intensified when, numbstruck at the sight of her and incapable of tearing his gaze off her lovely form, he collided against the doorframe.

Amalia had never felt more smug than she did at that moment. She didn’t know why, but she received an ego boost from seeing how much power she seemed to hold over Yugo. It was intoxicating.

Although she couldn’t deny that her intoxication might have been a result of seeing Yugo in his own suit for the occasion. But alas, before she could properly drink it all in and express her own admiration (which, for some reason, made her mouth go dry), they were told they had better get in the way and she didn’t get another chance…

Until now.

Now she could feast her eyes on the elaborate ensemble the Eliatrope King wore. Because it was truly worthy of a king.

Much like she was wearing green, the colour most associated with Sadida, he wore the characteristic turquoise of the Eliatropes, the hue he always wore. Amalia couldn’t help but smirk fondly at the sight of him. One way or another, his wardrobe seemed to consist of nothing but variations of his battle suit, the only real difference being how formal or informal the garments actually were.

In this case, the doll was reminded of the iconic outfit because his ceremonial robes combined the same vivid turquoise and the darker peacock hue of his suit. Draped all over his body was a light blue tunic with white hems that reached down his ankles yet had large vertical slits for better mobility. Secured around his form and highlighting his athletic build was a matching waist belt, while his glowing tattoos were exposed thanks to the slits of his sheer bishop sleeves. If her eyes trailed downwards, she could see dark blue pants and boots underneath his tunic and through its slits.

It vaguely reminded her of Chibi’s own body suit.

And it wasn’t the only thing reminiscent of it, either. Yugo seemed to have taken a page out of his brother’s book and incorporated his hood onto his undershirt, for it was the same peacock colour as his tights, yet it was decorated with exquisite shapes and forms of a lighter hue.

There was something about seeing Yugo in formal clothing that simply set her heart ablaze. Maybe it was the way it complimented his boyish charm while highlighting his own regality. Or the way his every garment seemed to draw attention to his sculpted physique. Or maybe she just thought Yugo looked handsome in everything he wore. The doll honestly didn’t know, but it wasn’t like she cared that much about it either. She couldn’t suppress a dreamy sigh from escaping her mouth. Whatever it was, Amalia found that she really liked it whenever her friend looked his best. Almost as much as she liked it when he appreciated her good looks.

Her daydreaming was abruptly stopped when she heard snickering not far away from her. Her cheeks burning, she quickly averted her gaze from the man of the hour, hiding her face behind one hand, and began to look around for her own mysterious watcher.

She blinked blankly when she made eye-contact with Old Biju, the kindly old man from the jewelry store she met during her first visit to the village. The same man she had yet to visit again to design and purchase one of his exquisite pieces.

Normally, that wouldn’t be so bad—whether it would be mortifying or not to be caught gawking at the king was a whole different story. The weird thing, however, was the fact that he was grinning from ear to ear underneath his greying beard, followed by him sending her a double thumbs-up and a wink before walking away with his family.

Her brain still trying to catch up to the unusual interaction, her face the perfect definition of ‘confusion’, Amalia eventually just shook her head to clear her thoughts. Still embarrassed for her little indiscretion, she tried to play it cool by pretending to be as entranced by the rest of the Council’s ensembles for the night.

A small smile curled at her lips and she snorted softly. It seemed whenever it was time for them to dress up, the Council of Six always followed a theme.

Everyone was wearing similar outfits to Yugo, only in their respective colours and with very small variations. Qilby wore an actual white ceremonial robe with crimson red embroidery, the same sheer material as his brother’s sleeves was used to display his sternum. Nora wore a bright magenta leotard with matching bishop sleeves and pantalons, her toned limbs in full display. Mina wore a light teal, floor-length dress and the same kind of sleeves as her brother and sister. Chibi was clad in a black and golden, open-chested vest, with light beige pantalons secured by a striped, red and gold sash, and brown boots twirled at the tip—his sleeves were almost the same as Yugo’s. Glip was the only one who didn’t use the same material as his siblings. Instead, he simply wore an olive green tunic not too dissimilar from his usual look.

And, of course, they all had their heads covered by their hats and hoods.

Meanwhile, their dragon siblings didn’t really wear any special clothing. They looked like they usually did save for the painted markings trailing all over their bodies. The only exception was Shinonomé, who wore a yellow dress similar to Mina’s, only much shorter, drawing attention to her long, ruby-coloured legs.

It was truly fascinating how they always found a way to stand out from the rest of their siblings while keeping a common factor that made it evident they were all in this together.

“Then again,” Amalia mused to herself. “I suppose I have the same thing with my sisters. Even if I don’t really show it…”

Smiling to herself, the doll decided, albeit reluctantly, that it was high time she tried to immerse herself a little more into the ceremony. Everything was beautifully decorated, and there were so many fun things to do, she could hardly wait!

And so, she began to look for ways to entertain herself until it was dinner time.

She tried some of the games, and was pleasantly surprised to find out she was a natural at scoring a basket at the ‘Travelling Portals’ game. A very fun game that only required you to throw a ball through a blue ring. Although it was a little awkward when the man manning the stand sheepishly offered her a doll as a prize. Luckily, nobody seemed offended when she gave her prize to a little girl staring at it with glittering eyes. Instead, they all cooed as the child hugged her new toy tightly.

She also got to spend some time with a few of the adults. They asked her about her day and her daily routine, and in turn she showed interest in their lives. Apparently, one of them, Araknya, was the village’s most talented seamstress, and back in the day, it had been her who’d sewn all the silken handkerchiefs they still used as decorations. Another one, Mona, was a passionate artist who tried a little bit of everything—painting, sculpting, carving, metal work… And then, there was Trina, who was an accountant.

Honestly, from what she’d told her about her job, the doll couldn’t help but privately wonder how come there weren’t more accountant Enutrofs. Getting to count money all day long had to be paradise for them!

She also shared some pleasantries with Bartoloblé, who still lamented the fact that his children were growing up too fast for his liking when they ‘ditched’ him to spend time with their friends. But then he offered the Divine Doll some freshly baked bread to snack on while they waited for dinner, and he seemed to get over it. For now.

Then, when her guard was low, the children all worked together to take her by surprise and bombard her with requests to play with them. Amalia lasted for all of two seconds before they pulled out the big guns and she was forced to admit defeat in the face of countless adorable puppy-wow-wow looks. Before she knew it, she was gleefully dancing in a circle, hand-in-hand, with a group of giggling, singing children. Or summoning her vines to carefully lift them up so everyone would look like insects from where they were. Or even playing with them at the stands, trying to win some more prizes for them—and getting completely demolished when Grougal came strutting by and won every single game without breaking a sweat.

He had to close her gaping mouth himself once he was done handing out plushies and toys for every kid. In response, she crossed her arms and pouted. “Show-off…”

But what truly made her heart flutter and immediately improved her already wonderful evening was when Yugo would get a few minutes to sneak away from his adoring subjects and check up on her. The first few times he did it, it was small things. Like asking if she was having a good time, to which she would assure him that she most definitely was. Or he would recommend some of his favourite past times, and even go with her and spend some time together whenever his presence wasn’t required elsewhere. And other times, they’d get more time together and they would chat the night away, just like they usually did from her balcony.

Even though all the while she still felt a pang of guilt for not coming clean over her unease of the last few days, it was nothing compared to the longing that would take over her heart whenever her eyes, treacherous as they were, trailed over to what would become the dancefloor and back at Yugo. Would it be wrong to want him to ask her for a dance?

There was nothing she wanted more than to dance with him. The last time they did so was back in Bonta, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the feeling of swaying in the Eliatrope King’s arms, where she felt protected, cared for, l—.

Her train of thought was abruptly interrupted by Nora and Efrim announcing dinner was served. The corners of her lips turned upwards a little when Yugo placed a polite hand on the small of her back and led her over to her seat at the table. She was seated next to Mina, who flashed her a knowing smirk behind the rim of her cup that made her skin feel too hot even under the light fabric of her dress. Two other Eliatropes she didn’t recognise but would surely come to know by the end of the night were located at her other side and right in front of her. Even the musicians left their position for the time being to enjoy some food.

Once everyone was in their place, the royal chef listed off the many mouthwatering dishes he’d prepared for the night. Gobball stew—Amalia, Yugo, and even Adamaï shared mischievous glances; it wasn’t bad in any sense of the word, it just wasn’t as good as Alibert’s—, stir-fried vegetables, grilled Kralamoure—this time, the doll and the king had to do everything in their power not to break down laughing at the way Adamaï blanched even whiter than he already was when presented with the dish—, roasted meats with caramelised onion, soups, bread from Bartoloblé’s bakery, and the most artistically baked desserts Amalia had ever seen in her life.

As everybody ate and shared stories around the meal, the doll felt pleasantly full. Her heart in particular threatened to burst from joy as the most wonderful feeling of belonging enveloped her.

And just when she thought the night couldn’t get any better, Mina and Phaeris announced it was finally time.

Perking up with a huge grin on her face, Amalia mimicked everyone around her and stood from the table. Since they would lead the ceremony from the temple, the Council of Six were the first to make their way towards the sacred building. But not before Yugo reached out for Amalia and gently took her hand in his to make sure she wouldn’t be left behind amidst the crowd and she could be watching alongside them.

As soon as their leaders had begun making their way over to the temple, their subjects followed. They calmly abandoned their own seats and filed out of the dining area. While the Council climbed the stairs leading to one of the highest floors of the temple, ensuring everyone would be able to see perfectly, the Eliatropes all crowded around the main square. The perfect view of Mina and Phaeris as they took a step forward to address their people.

As his subjects murmured impatiently from below, Yugo’s eyes were on Amalia, watching her every reaction intently in order to file it away in his mind for eternity. He smiled at the thought of her dazzled face when she finally saw the true magnificence of Sacred Dance Day for the very first time. He knew from experience it would stick with her for years to come.

His affectionate grin faltered slightly when she caught sight of the engraved chest being passed over to Mina and Phaeris. From the look in her eyes, he could tell she recognised it, but couldn’t imagine how that was even possible. Even though she had been in the throne room before, he had never told her of the secrets the Eliatrope throne held. There was simply no way she could know about the Dofus.

As if reading his mind, the doll leaned closer to him to whisper, “I saw Mina and Phaeris carrying that out of the throne room earlier today.” Okay, that explained a lot of things. “What’s inside of it?”

Even though her unintentional explanation managed to assuage his worries, the king still understood his people held secrets he couldn’t reveal just yet. Especially when Efrim was around watching them like a hawk. As much as he would have liked to reveal everything to Amalia, he knew he couldn’t.

“Now, now, Amalia. That would ruin the surprise…” He winked down at her, relishing the way she blushed the softest shade of pink even as she pouted.

A terse but meaningful grunt from Phaeris was all they needed to know they were about to start, so it’d be best if Amalia retook her previous position and stood back. No matter how much he lamented watching her go, Yugo knew it was the right thing to do. However, he didn’t miss the way she seemed to grin impishly to herself, the mysterious action causing him to raise an eyebrow at her retreating form.

As always, he could count on his brother to ground him back to reality with a subtle, yet not-so-gentle, flick of his tail against the back of his head. His go-to method to get his Eliatrope twin to look forward and pay attention.

As soon as Amalia had returned to her previous position from Yugo’s opening speech, Mina, as if sensing this, addressed her subjects, her arms extended to her sides welcomely.

“Dear friends, thank you all so much for joining us in the celebration of Sacred Dance Day once more. Your devotion and faith in our mother, the Great Goddess Eliatrope, is not in vain.” At her words, the people gathered at the feet of the temple lowered their heads in a silent prayer, their hearts with their goddess. Mina’s smile widened at the sight of her people’s loyalty. It only lasted for a minute before her expression turned somber.

“As our king said before, I know I need not remind you of the many hardships we have endured. In what feels both like seconds and several lifetimes, we lost those we considered our friends, our world, and we were forced to begin a long voyage in search of a new place to call home.” Amalia couldn’t help but wince at her quiet admission, her heart going out to the wonderful nation that had taken her in. “In a way, even now we’re still searching.”

Although she lamented having to admit they still had a long way to go before they could say they belonged in the World of Twelve, Mina’s voice remained clear and unwavering even as bitter tears sprung from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. But the silver-haired priestess carried on, emboldened by her people’s faith in them and her brother’s silent support in the form of the comforting touch of his wing against her back.

“But today we are here to remind you how hope is not a weakness!” She declared, raising one fist in the air to show her conviction. “And neither is it to trust the Great Goddess. Now more than ever, hope and trust give us strength. The strength needed to face each new dawn with motivation and optimism, knowing we can make each day better than yesterday. Our past may be tinged with loss, but the future belongs to us!”

“And we have our goddess to thank for that!” This time, it was Phaeris who took the floor, his solemn roar reverberating throughout the space. “Even if her presence is not as powerful as it used to be, even if she does not hold the same power in this world as she did in our own, let no one ever doubt that she remains with us. Let no one ever doubt that she is still looking over us.

“For if we are all gathered here today, celebrating life despite our many losses, that is precisely because Eliatrope has led us directly to this moment. Even in her absence, us, her children, will forever be her top priority!”

The teal dragon’s conviction resonated with everyone listening. While his siblings and their subjects all cheered and loudly proclaimed their agreement with what he said, Amalia could only glance upwards. As her gaze remained fixed on the night sky, she couldn’t help but wonder if her father was also watching over her despite the distance. A small smile curled itself on her lips at the sentiment.

“That is right!” Mina concurred, stepping forward with her hands outstretched towards her kingdom. “Eliatrope has blessed us with the chance to start over. Therefore, let us celebrate her grace and compassion by honouring the event that started it all—her sacred dance with the Great Dragon that gave birth to the Krozmos!”

Amidst all the cheering and clapping, the Ochre Twins exchanged a meaningful look. Gripping each other’s hand tightly, they raised it high above their heads and exclaimed, “For new beginnings!”

“FOR NEW BEGINNINGS!” Everyone chorused immediately after.

Amalia watched from her position as Mina instructed everyone to follow her lead. Her palms facing outwards, soon enough, they turned wakfu-blue and began to emit a shapeless mass of energy that floated skywards. The doll’s brown eyes widened in awe and she craned her neck when, one by one, her fellow Eliatrope members of the Council copied her actions, their own wakfu coming to join hers high above.

And yet, that was nothing compared to the veritable spectacle that was seeing every single Eliatrope gathered around—regardless of age, size, or gender—contribute with their own energy. Before long, they were all standing under a cloud of the purest hue of turquoise that lit up the night.

The only thing that succeeded at getting the Divine Doll to tear her gaze away was the sight of Mina elegantly and measuredly waving her arms around as she commanded the wakfu cloud. It was like watching the waves crash against the shore—beautiful and calming, yet extremely impactful. Amalia could only gasp as she finally realised what the priestess was trying to do. She was moulding their combined wakfu into a more refined shape. One that, only enough, resembled a face with extraordinarily long locks of hair.

Her eyes widened in realisation yet again. “The Eliatrope Goddess!”

It was at that time that Phaeris took action. Effortlessly dragging the mysterious chest in front of him, he bent down and unclasped the lock. When he stood up, he was carrying six colourful eggs the size of boulders in his arms. But if Amalia thought that was strange, it was nothing compared to the shock she felt when he willed them into forming a rotating circle all around him.

The doll could only watch on, mesmerised, as the Ochre dragon clearly used every last drop of his concentration to keep the eggs under control even as they began to spin faster around his form and glow ominously. At last, he seemed to achieve his goal, for with a draconic roar that sent tremors down to her very core, Phaeris spread his arms and wings wide as a great burst of energy was released from both his body and the eggs.

And yet, that was nothing compared to the astonishment she experienced when the blue energy the eggs had been operating with suddenly turned purple. Her hairs stood up on end and she instinctively brought her arms around her torso to hug herself at the sudden shift in the atmosphere. She could just feel it.

But before she could so much as ask about it, the eggs—the Dofus, she realised. Just like the one her sisters and Osamodas’ dragons had created all those years ago—began to move about, purple energy trailing after them. Her eyes remained snapped open in bewilderment, for she feared missing anything if she so much as blinked, as the currents began to mount and spike up. Just as she was about to run for cover, fearing the worst, her concerns proved unfounded when the Dofus turned into a giant, ethereal dragon made out of the very same purple energy they emitted.

And even that was nothing when the Great Dragon and Eliatrope Goddess’ recreations began to dance, taking her breath away.

It was like nothing she had ever experienced. Craning her neck so far back a subconscious part of her was sure she would feel it in the morning, Amalia wouldn’t have been able to tear her eyes away to save her life. She followed the two lovers’ every movement, mesmerised, as the Ochre Twins directed them high above. All around her, the delighted murmurs coming from the Eliatropes watching from down below echoed her own sentiment.

It was truly breathtaking.

A pleasant warmth spread all over Yugo’s chest when, having discreetly flickered his eyes towards her, he got to see the amazement plastered all over the doll’s face. The Council of Six had witnessed the traditional recreation of the Sacred Dance so many times, he knew exactly what would happen next without having to look.

First, Mina and Phaeris would wield the wakfu from the Eliatropes and the stasis from the Dofus into taking the form of their parents. Next, they would recreate their first meeting by guiding both constructs to stand (or would it be more accurate to say ‘hover’?) on opposite ends. Slowly, they would draw them both near until they were face to face. Just like Eliatrope and the Great Dragon, upon seeing each other for the first time, the constructs would lunge at each other and form a perfect spiral as they began their mystical dance. Little by little, their ethereal forms would undulate and shoot upwards, purple and blue becoming interwoven for eternity in the form of a whole new universe where life and death were intrinsically linked.

And although he was sure he would never tire of seeing it, for it never failed to be absolutely beautiful, this time it somehow still paled in comparison to getting to see Amalia see their union for the first time.

Knowing this was usually the part where his siblings let loose of their hold on the energy constructs and allowed them to move on their own as the commemoratory dance began underneath their light, Yugo felt tempted to take Amalia aside and give her his present then.

Only for something so unexpected not even Chibi would have been able to predict it to happen.

As scripted, Mina and Phaeris dropped their hold on the wakfu and stasis clouds at that moment. But then addressing their people like they did was completely unscripted.

As usually, the first to speak was Mina. “My dear people, normally, this would be the time when we got the actual dancing of the holiday underway.”

“However,” Phaeris continued, dutifully ignoring the confused glances being shared even amongst their siblings. “This time, there is one more surprise waiting for us. But why doesn’t Phaeris allow the person behind it to step forward and share her idea with us?” When he gestured to his side and Amalia stepped forward, shyly waving down at the Eliatropes, there wasn’t a single jaw that didn’t drop at the sight of the Divine Doll seemingly organising something for their special day.

Yugo and Adamaï’s were certainly only centimetres apart from the floor.

“Thank you, Mina. Phaeris.” Her nervous heart racing wildly in her ribcage, Amalia discreetly took a deep breath to steel herself as she slid up beside the Ochre Twins. Remembering what they said about projecting her voice, she addressed her audience with as much poise and confidence as she could muster. “I would like to start by thanking you all, from the bottom of my heart, for allowing me to share such a meaningful occasion with you. Truly, I am not worthy of such honour.” Placing a hand over her chest and lowering her head solemnly, she didn’t miss the way Efrim seemed to agree with her statement, but she didn’t let that deter her.

She was done letting him get into her head. That, and the soft huff of air that left his maw when one of his siblings nudged him in his side certainly helped.

“However, I have not come here today to talk about what I am lacking, rather, to share what I can provide for you instead. All I ask in return is that you place your trust in me for a few scarce moments.”

Not waiting for an answer, indistinguishable from all the chatter crowded down below, she looked over her shoulder at the Ochre Twins and offered them a curt nod.

“Do you have any idea what she’s up to?” Adamaï questioned him. His brother had to admit his stoic façade did a wonderful job at hiding his own bewilderment.

“No, she didn’t mention everything all day.” Blinking in surprise, Yugo’s gaze flickered over to his silver-haired sister and, her hand behind her back, she opened up a portal.

His dirty-blond brows shot up to the nonexistent ceiling when it became apparent she had actually created one large portal that stood amidst their mother’s offerings and it then dissolved into innumerable smaller ones all over their audience. Despite his many questions, his mind immediately drew a blank when a portal opened right in front of him and deposited a small, leaf-like package in his hands.

…did Amalia organise some sort of cabbage exchange, or something?

His head snapped over to Nora. “No way! Is this—?”

“What you have in your hands is my present to you.” Amalia continued, the only one who didn’t have a cabbage-like thing in her hands. Instead, hers were splayed at her sides, her palms up. Not unlike how Mina herself had initiated the ceremony. “This is my way of saying ‘thank you’, for everything. I know it’s nowhere near as impressive as the magnificence of the dance that created the Krosmoz, but someone made me realise that, perhaps, that was exactly what was missing—the Krosmoz.

“Now, if you would all be so kind as to raise what you’ve been given in the air…” She gestured for them to follow her motions, raising the mysterious present high above their heads. Her smile widening at the patches of green greeting her from down below, illuminated from the still moving bursts of blue and purple energy, she knew everything else was up to her.

Amalia placed her extended palms in front of her and, much like Phaeris had done before her, she began to concentrate all her energy into that indescribable source that connected all of plant-life together. The very same source she felt deep within her core ever since the Leafy Godl himself brought her to life.

In a way, she was literally pouring everything she had into this, and that alone gave her enough hope to believe it would work.

At first, she heard it rather than saw it.

A surprised gasp, soon followed by another, and another. Soon enough, the sounds of curiosity were replaced by joyous laughter, loud hollering and cheering, little kids telling their parents to ‘Look!’, and the excited chatter she had been looking for. A huge weight was lifted off her shoulders.

She could only chuckle when she heard Chibi exclaim, “What does light have to do with plants?!”

“That’s what I said!” That was Nora.

Despite everything, the Divine Doll still was almost too afraid to look. After a moment’s hesitation, she finally peeked one eye open, and soon it was her turn to grin broadly at the scene in front of her.

From where she stood, dozens of golden, little dots lit up the town square, but all she could see were the delighted expressions of the Eliatropes as they stared at the glowing orbs in awe. Amalia wouldn’t have been able to wipe the smile off her face even if she wanted to. Her plan was a success! She had contributed something of value to Sacred Dance Day all by herself!

Now, there was only one thing left to do.

“My dear Eliatropes, I give you…” With a fluid motion of her hand, her plant-based lights took off into the night sky, “the first stars in the Krosmoz!”

From where he stood, watching alongside his husband, Mr. Needlesworth had to wipe a tear off, a huge, touched grin breaking out under his moustache. He and his love leaned into each other at the view, holding each other close.

While her subjects erupted in even more gasps and cheers, Mina took the chance to draw their attention back to her once again. Her own gaze followed the orb she had previously held as it floated away.

“I believe I speak in the name of all of us when I say it is us who are grateful for you and everything you have done for us, Lady Amalia.” She placed a warm hand on top of the Sadida Doll’s shoulder, smiling warmly down at her. From the genuine glint in her dark eyes, it was easy to see she meant every word. She turned to her subjects. “And with that, may the dance commence!”

No sooner did the words leave her mouth that the Eliatropes began to celebrate underneath their Great Goddess and the Great Dragon, only this time, countless Sadida stars served as their witnesses. It was incredible how something could go from solemn to immensely festive so quickly. One minute, everyone watched and listened attentively to everything the Council of Six had to say, and the next, people were coupling up, or forming rings, or even going solo to dance the night away.

Not for the first time that week, Amalia’s heart squeezed in longing as she observed their almost crazed movements. Not only did she miss dancing in the ridges alongside her family as the breeze gently swayed flower petals behind them. But, watching the couples sway softly to the music, she yearned to be able to do the same with Yugo.

As pleasant as that feeling he elicited was, a deep loneliness enveloped her whenever he wasn’t there with her. Was it normal to miss someone you saw almost every day?

Unbeknownst to her, she wasn’t the only one observing. A little ways off from his siblings as they celebrated and congratulated each other on yet another successful Sacred Dance Day—except Nora, Chibi, Grougal, and even Baltazar; who had teleported themselves to the dancefloor—, Yugo’s eyes were on Amalia, his heart thundering against his ears.

He had long known she was beyond beautiful. One only needed to ask around for a little bit and it soon became apparent he found her to be bewitching from the very moment he first laid his eyes on her human form. As a matter of fact, with each passing day, he only found her lovelier and lovelier, proof enough of that was the way his brain stopped working as soon as he saw her in her new dress.

But after what she did today for them… He was convinced she had never looked more beautiful.

The weight of what he carried around in his breast pocket heavier than ever, the king made up his mind. He had to give it to her now before he lost his nerve. There wouldn’t be a more perfect moment.

Sliding up to her and clearing his throat, he almost felt bad at the way his unexpected company made her jolt in place. Although it was kind of adorable how it took her a little to regain her bearings and notice his presence.

“Oh, Yugo! You scared me!” She chided him lightly, slapping him on the arm without any real force behind it.

“Sorry, Amalia. That wasn’t my intent.”

“It’s alright.” She smiled. “Did you need anything?”

And just like that, his mouth went dry at the moment of truth.

“Y-yes, actually.” He stammered. He tried to hide his blush behind his fist. “I was wondering if you would come with me? I’d like to talk to you in private.” Was it just him, or did a flicker of hope just die out in her eyes?

“O-oh!” Now it was her turn to stammer. “S-sure, I mean…” She waved her hand lazily. “Lead the way.”

With a nod, Yugo did just that. He tried not to think about her squeak in surprise when he snaked a hand around her waist and pressed her flush to his side. Or how right it felt when her arms came to circle around his torso and to hold on tight when he jumped off the temple and onto a lower, more isolated platform.

The moment Amalia let go, he immediately missed her warmth.

The doll looked around in confusion for a minute, before turning back to the king with a raised eyebrow. “So? What did you want to tell me?”

She could only blink blankly at his answer.

“Remember when I first took you to the village?” Yugo blurted out.

Okay… That wasn’t what she’d been expecting, but she’d play along for now. “Yes, of course. How couldn’t I? Not only was it a great day, but I’ve been coming back quite often ever since.” She tilted her head to the side. “Why do you ask?”

“Remember when we were about to leave but we stopped for a minute to talk with Mr. Biju?” He prodded. “You know, the jeweller known for his literally one-of-a-kind pieces?”

“How could I forget? I saw him earlier.” She chose not to say anything about his weird behaviour then. But her tone grew wistful. “I have yet to visit him again to commission him something for me…”

At her words, Yugo’s smile softened. “Well, to tell you the truth, I’m kinda glad you didn’t?”

“Huh?” Amalia blinked, more confused than ever. “Really? Why?”

“Because of this.” He said simply. He brought his hand to his breast pocket and took something out of it. Something he placed into Amalia’s open hand. Her eyes flickered back to the lukewarm, sleek object in her hand for a fraction of a second, before her head snapped up back at him in wonder, her mouth slightly agape.

The king shrugged so nonchalantly it just didn’t fit what he’d just admitted to doing for her. “What can I say? I wanted to do something for Sacred Dance Day for you too.”

Still incapable of forming a single coherent thought, Amalia’s astonished gaze returned to the object currently holding her attention. There, laying in her open hand, was a beautiful pendant. While the chain itself was fairly simple, what truly caught her eye was the intricate design of the charm. It somehow managed to be both simple and breathtaking. Glinting in her palm was a golden spiral, but what made it truly memorable was how the outer lines consisted of jagged edges, highly reminiscent of an Eliatrope portal; while the inner ones curled in on themselves into the shape of a leafy vine, like the ones she would summon.

With a start, she realised it was supposed to represent them and their bond. As she reached that conclusion, words failed her, although she still gave it her best shot.

“Yugo… I… This is… I-I don't know what to say!” Her voice, though tremulous, was full of emotion.

“Do you like it?” He asked simply with a smile. If he were being honest with himself, he wasn’t faring much better.

“I love it. It's… It's beautiful!” She assured him, and he immediately felt ten times lighter. “But, I didn't get you anything…”

“Are you kidding me? You did all of this.” He opened his arms wide and gestured around. “Even though you didn't have to.”

But she shook her head. “It was the least I could do after you all took me in and were so kind to me.” At least, most of them were. “I couldn't possibly do nothing for you on such a special day for you. I—.”

“Amalia, you're a Divine Doll.” He reminded her gently, lifting her chin with his thumb so she would look at him. So she would see the seriousness and sincerity in his eyes. “You didn't even know about Sacred Dance Day until very recently! Nobody would've put it against you if you didn't do something to celebrate with us.”

“Still…”

“Is that why you’ve been so off lately?” The king finally questioned, and the doll had to suppress the urge to gasp when he hit the nail on the head. Instead, she tried averting her gaze again, but the thumb under her chin wouldn’t let her. “Amalia. Please, talk to me. Do you have any idea what knowing that you don’t trust me does to me?”

Her answer was immediate. “But I trust you!” He was probably the person she trusted most on Oma Island. Nay, the entire World of Twelve!

“Then why don’t you ever come to me when you have a problem?” Yugo prodded, hopeful at what seemed to be progress between the two.

Amalia’s voice was so small he almost didn’t hear her. “Because you’re a king, you’re already dealing with so much, and I… I don’t want to worry you.” She started when he actually snorted.

Flinching under her disbelieving glare, he tried to wave it off. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just…” He let out yet another chuckle, though a mirthless one. “If the reason you don’t tell me what’s bothering you is because you don’t want me to worry, then I’m sorry to tell you you’re being counterproductive.”

“What do you mean?” The doll tilted her head, the pendants hanging from her headband dangling with the movement.

“Amalia, if I see you’re worried about something but you don’t tell me what, I’m only going to worry more!”

Oh. When he put it like that, maybe trying to be the strong and silent type that didn’t really open up wasn’t the best solution she could have come up with.

“Yeah… You might have a point.” She winced, instantly regretting all the secrecy from the past few days. Looking back at Yugo, she let out a rueful sigh. “I’m sorry, Yugo. You’re right, I should have told you how I felt about not being able to collaborate much from the beginning. It would have saved us a lot of trouble….”

“I’m kind of glad you didn’t, actually.” Again, she was looking at him like he’d grown a second head. He could only laugh. “Don’t you see? It was thanks to that that you ended up organising all this!” He pointed at the glowing orbs high above. “It’s the first time we’ve ever deviated from our traditions, and I must say, I think this is our best Sacred Dance Day yet.” He smiled down at her, winking knowingly. “I’d say it’s quite fitting, given the circumstances.”

Knowing exactly what he meant, a soft blush on her cheeks, Amalia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m just glad you guys liked it. After everything you’ve done for me, this was the least I could do.”

They were quiet for a little while after that until Yugo broke the silence, his voice kind yet full of meaning. “But seriously, from now on, if you have a problem, don’t hesitate to come to me, okay? I feel much better knowing I can at least offer some support than watching you agonise from the sidelines.”

After a beat, a small smile stretched over the doll’s lips as she glanced back up at him. She was done letting Efrim dictate her life. If he wanted to blame her for all of his misfortunes, so be it. But she wouldn’t let him affect her friendship with Yugo anymore.

“I promise.” And just then, without a warning, she threw herself at Yugo’s arms, who, despite his initial surprise, automatically held her against his body just as tightly. Her warmth seeping into his body, her emerald hair tickled his nose, her natural floral scent with tinges of sunlight so intoxicating he had to (very reluctantly) place her back down lest he got dizzy.

Once her feet were on the floor again, he softly asked for her permission to let him help her with her necklace, which she happily granted. Tucking her hair in front of her to facilitate the Eliatrope’s access, she felt a tingle of excitement run down her back as his bare hands grazed her skin while he tried to clasp the chain around her neck.

When he finally stepped away to see how it looked on her (beyond gorgeous), Amalia picked it up and stared at it intently. However, for some reason, an unreadable expression settled on her face the more she stared at the necklace. Seeming to realise what she was doing, the doll sent her a small yet soulful smile, but that only soothed his worries a little.

“I still feel a little bad for not getting you a present.” She confessed.

Yugo frowned. He gave her that necklace hoping to convey how much she meant to him and how much he appreciated having her in his life, even if he couldn't say it out loud himself. It tore at his heart to see his gift causing her grief of any kind. All he wanted was to take all her worries away and help her enjoy herself after the absolute wonder she had just performed.

His eyes flickered away for a moment, drawn by the lights, music, and laughter to their side, and his concerned frown melted into a mischievous grin as an idea came to mind.

“Do you really want to do something for me?

Amalia blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. She nodded vehemently when the words registered in her mind. “Yes, of course! Anything!”

She raised an eyebrow when all Yugo did in response was chuckle fondly, only to let out a quiet gasp when he held her hand in his and his other one snaked around her waist, bringing her flush against him. Her cheeks burned from the intimate contact.

Her heart was thumping in her ribcage so loudly, she almost didn't hear him say, “Then come dance with me.”

An ear-splitting grin broke across her face, her brown eyes shining with elation. All night she had been staring longingly at the dancefloor, secretly hoping Yugo would ask her to dance with him. And he just did! Oh, sweet Sadida above, she was so happy she might as well burst.

Unable to contain her squeal of excitement, Amalia broke the embrace Yugo had her in. Before a confused king could ask her about it, she grabbed him by the wrist and practically dragged him to the dancefloor as she hurriedly climbed down the stairs leading to it. Not like Yugo was complaining. Only when they made their way between the throngs of spinning dancers, did they retake their previous position.

And so, they danced the night away between festive cheers and elated cries. Every time Yugo spun her away before bringing her back to his side, Amalia couldn't help but giggle, a huge grin splitting her face. And all Yugo could do whenever she came back to her senses and realised her hair must be a mess from all the dancing was stare down adoringly at her, quietly hoping that would be the first Sacred Dance Days of many they’d get to spend like this.

And all the while, the pendant around Amalia's neck would glint softly under the moonlight and party lights. A clear reflection of the connection between Sadida and Eliatrope the two of them were forging together.

57 notes · View notes

bvidzsoo · 1 year ago

Text

Salty tears, agog whispers

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, mentions of death, injuries, wounds, blood, manhandling, mentions of sex worker, human trafficking, swearing, ptsd

Pairing: Kang Yeosang x female reader

Word count: 19,9k

Summary: Kang Yeosang was forced to flee from his once very familiar life as he killed his father. He didn't mean to do it, but he harmed his mother and Yeosang just couldn't sit and watch anymore. You have never had an easy life. You were sold off at a young age, then bought, then sold, then bought again and sold again. It was a neverending cycle. You were just a toy for men to use and then disregard of; you wanted to disappear. And one man almost granted your wish, he killed you, or so he thought...and so did you. But an angel, a kind-hearted man, saved you from your terrible fate. You found a family, just like he did so many years ago. Yeosang was your angel. (Reader is called Jung Hana in the following oneshots.)

A/N: I'm baack!! *sighs* this part is a harsh one imo, nothing is very detailed but it's heavily packed with emotions; I hope I covered everything in the warnings. For better understatement, once again, I heavily advise you read San's part (why is it always about him haha) and the other parts too ofc because everything is tightly woven together and you'll have a better understanding of the whole story and world building!!! If you want to be tagged just let me know and share your thoughts! Happy reading!

Taglist: @pingyu-in-wonderland @marievllr-abg @lelaleleb @loveforred @horanghae8 @jeonghanscarat7 @orshii @mundayoonimnida @m3tavita @silentcry329 @icarusignite @cooljuni

Series Masterlist ↭ Previous Part

Everything was cold. Painfully cold. The heavy wind and salty water were freezing, numbing, as the sea pulled me further away from the cliff. From the shore. Away from the atrocious monsters called humans. A painful cough tore through my lungs as a wave crashed into my body, sending me down under, before I was pulled back to the surface by the same wave, nose and throat stinging from the salt. I wanted to scream. The pain was unbearable, but my throat was sore and my eyes so swelled up that I couldn’t see anymore. What would I scream for? For help? To be back between the evil claws of men? Then, I would rather accept my fate and succumb to the darkness. At least it was quiet there, safe, and finally…I’d have solitude. Nobody would touch me, nobody would degrade me, nobody would violate me anymore. That brought serenity upon my spasming muscles as they finally relaxed, finally giving in to the cold. There was no use in fighting against it. If the Gods didn’t find my life entertaining enough anymore, then they probably wanted to get rid of me right now. And that would mean a certain death. Lost in the sea, sinking down under as wave after wave washed me away. The thought didn’t seem too scary, nor sad, and I found myself smiling. For the first time in ages, I was smiling as another wave crashed into my body, whipping me around and around, nose and mouth filled with water. It didn’t hurt anymore as my brain seemed to shut down, the clatter of my teeth barely there. I wanted to see the sky for one last time before the darkness would take its claim on me, saving me from my misery. But when I opened my eyes, I couldn’t see much other than darkness. Everywhere. Above and around. Have I died, then? Did the Gods drag me to hell finally? Why was it still so painful then? So cold and terrifying? What if the man hasn’t had enough with me and came to fish me out the sea? What if terror would follow me even after my demise? What if I wasn’t allowed to ever rest? To ever be happy? What if the Gods hated me and were punishing me for all the wrongdoings I have done? Which weren’t many, but they hated sinners. Everyone said that. Everyone knew that. Did Heaven exist? What if they didn’t want me there? I would’ve chuckled if I could’ve, but my body wasn’t working anymore, it was dead weight. I couldn’t fight back anymore; I couldn’t hold on anymore. So, I closed my eyes and let a long breath out, emptying my lungs, not wanting to make the process longer than necessary. As if the Gods succumbed to my final cry of pity, a harsh wave sent my body underwater, cold tentacles wrapping around my body, pulling me even further under. It felt like I was wrapped up in an icy cocoon, void of air as my lungs started quickly screaming for oxygen. I didn’t feel the need to fight back, to try and swim up to the surface, to save myself. What was the point of living if life was so miserable?

If I was being used day and night to others pleasure, my wants and needs completely disregarded? What was the point of trying to save myself when I’ve been desperately wishing to die already, to just drop dead in the middle of the day or night, to be free of so much horror this awful life has put me through? If I would’ve had any tears left, I would’ve been sobbing by now, shouting in agony and asking ‘Why me?’. But I just smiled, choking on nothing but pure salt and water, body convulsing in awful ways despite my serene thoughts. There was no need to do this, to try and fight back, even if it was a normal human reaction. I welcomed it with open arms, content with the sudden turn of my fate. If the Gods wanted to drag me to hell, I wanted it too. If they wanted to do it right now, I thanked them for it. And it did feel like someone’s grip was around my wrist, strong and burning, as it pulled me towards themselves, but it didn’t feel like I was sinking anymore. It didn’t feel like I was being dragged towards Hell anymore, it felt like I was getting closer to the surface with each passing second and if my body wouldn’t have been on the verge of blacking out, on the verge of dying, I would’ve kicked and scratched, fighting the saving grip off myself. But my vision blackened and my lungs burned, skin like ice, as everything faded around me. Sounds muted, senses vaned and darkness engulfed my whole being, body going limp. Finally, I have let go.

I imagined this is what it felt like resurfacing from underwater once your lungs were left with no oxygen, gasping loudly and frantically for air as my eyes opened and I shot up in a sitting position. My heart was beating fast and my lungs burning as I took quick breaths, body panicked and on high-alert as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. It was so dark in here, not even the small window provided enough light for me to see my surroundings. My body was tense, muscles sore and screaming in pain as tears filled my eyes, realizing I was in a bed. A bed which had soft blankets and a pillow which smelled like flowers. I was back in the hands of my tormentors, but then why was this place rocking from left to right? Why did I hear waves crashing against the house? Why was the wind howling so loudly, sending chills down my back? As if reminded about my back, my body finally caught up with my brain and the pain finally seeped through my veins, to every inch of my abused body. It felt like my skin was being ripped open once again, cut with the sharp blade of the knife, abused and abused relentlessly. I couldn’t help the despaired cry which left my lips, clutching the blankets tightly in my balled-up fists as I bit my lower lip harshly, on the verge of crying out again from the aching of my whole being. It was so strong that my head started pulsing, making me light headed as I was about to fall backwards, but the only room to the door was quickly opened. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now, but the little light was welcomed as a figure walked inside the room, their actions rushed as they quickly closed the door behind them. I frowned, whimpering from the pain again, as I tried to make out who the person inside the room was, only to gasp when they stepped further inside, candlelight illuminating their face. It was a man. His features were very soft, almost as if he was carefully drawn and then painted by the Gods before he was brought to life. Perhaps in a different setting and in an earlier stage of life, this man wouldn’t have seemed like a threat. I have met too many angelic faced men with cruel intentions to not recoil from this one’s touch as his hand reached out, freezing midair as I scooted backwards. The man seemed shocked and sad at the same time, eyebrows lightly furrowing before he lowered his arm.

“My name is Kang Yeosang,” The man suddenly spoke up quietly, almost in a whisper, and his deep voice did not match his angelic features, “I’m somewhat of a doctor, I know how to heal certain sicknesses and how to patch people up, you don’t have to be scared of me. I’m just here to heal your wounds, but before I do that, I need to see if you have a fever.”

His words carried through the room, slowly reaching my brain just as Yeosang raised an inquiring eyebrow. How could I believe him? What if he was just lying for me to trust him and give in to him easier, allow him to touch me? I quickly shook my head and scooted further up on the bed, back colliding with the harsh wooden wall, a yelp leaving my lips at the throbbing ache which traveled through my spine at the contact. Tears sprung into my eyes instantly and I held a hand over my mouth, lips trembling in fear and pain.

“I’m sorry, I—” Yeosang seemed to be at a loss of words as he gazed at me with so much sadness on his face, “Your back is—very bruised, I know it hurts a lot. Your body has been through a lot, so just…please, let me heal you. I will only touch your forehead to see if you have a fever, I promise.”

Everything in my body screamed to scamper off the bed and run away, but where to? Where even was I? The candlelight wasn’t strong enough to light up the room, but it was enough to see how small it was and how little furniture was inside it. And the constant rocking wasn’t normal either. I dared to look up into the eyes of the angelic man and I found no malice in them. Could he be genuine? Or was he just a very talented actor? Before I could doubt him more, another painful throb racked my whole body and I whined, shutting my eyes tightly closed, head lightly falling forward. Yeosang didn’t reach out to me, but he tensed as he slightly moved closer to the bed. I waited a second for the pain to dissipate, but nothing happened, so I raised my head and looked at Yeosang, who was waiting patiently and keeping his distance. Did I have much of a choice? When was I even allowed to choose something? So, with a shuddering breath, I nodded slowly and Yeosang’s face instantly relaxed, seemingly glad that I allowed him to inspect my temperature. His hand reached out again and my muscles tensed as I brought my legs to my chest, body screaming at me to stop moving, but I felt exposed as he leaned closer. A small smile, which looked comforting, appeared on his lips as his fingers lightly brushed against my forehead, making me shudder, before his warm palm was pressed firmly against my skin. I stopped breathing as my lips trembled and gazed into the beautiful man’s eyes as his eyebrows furrowed, eyes slightly closing. I wasn’t cold anymore, but his palm was a lot warmer than I was and the press of his hand made my headache slightly disappear. But then, his hand was gone as soon as it came, and I looked at him surprised, not expecting him to keep his words. His eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head, mumbling something to himself as he suddenly started walking towards the door.

“I’ll be right back, don’t be scared.” He said softly and I just looked away, hoping he wouldn’t see the tears in my eyes. It wasn’t that easy to not be scared. So far, he seemed to be honest and do as he said, but I couldn’t trust him. Not yet, not when I was so vulnerable and he might be acting just for me to start trusting him. I couldn’t fall in his trap. Men were sly and they used anything they could against you, I wasn’t in the physical state to fight back if he tried to harm me more, not that I usually could. As I sniffed, wiping a few tears off my cheeks, the door opened again and I looked up alarmed, watching as Yeosang walked in with two different cups in his hands, shutting the door quietly behind himself. He paused for a second, his eyes running over my face before he quietly sighed, licking his lips as he spoke up, “I brought you two different herbal teas. One is to boost your immune system and help your wounds heal faster, and the other is to lessen your pain and allow your muscles to build themselves back up faster.”

I gulped once he finished explaining and my eyes looked between the two ceramic cups, gulping thirstily. It only occurred to me now how thirsty I was and how sore my throat felt. Even if I wanted to speak, I probably wouldn’t have been able to. I looked back at Yeosang, who was watching me expectantly but very patiently, slightly extending his hands towards me to take the two cups. What if he tried to poison me? To kill me? Wouldn’t then my wish become reality? I’d be finally free. The thought of that and the constant aching of my back and muscles made me take a rash decision as I blindly trusted this angel faced stranger and took the cup in his left hand, an encouraging smile appearing on Yeosang’s lips as I brought the cup to my lips. It was still steaming, the cup warm to my touch, and I smelled it first, only to be met with a pleasant flower like scent. It was sweet and I allowed the warm liquid to pour down my throat, almost crying at the soothing feeling, thankful to have something finally hydrate my wrecked body. The taste was velvety and sweet, like I had expected, for a herbal tea it didn’t taste too bad. Yeosang’s smile seemed to widen as he watched my reaction and then eagerly handed me the other cup, taking the empty one as I quickly drank the contents of this cup too, desperate for something which would relieve me of the pain. This one’s taste was bitter and sour at the same time, it made me gag a little bit as I shuddered, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. I heard a chuckle and as I opened my eyes, Yeosang had an embarrassed look on his face. He took the empty cup as I handed it to him and cleared his throat.

“Sorry, this one tastes a bit awful; I know, I haven’t found the matching ingredient for it yet to sweeten it.” I nodded upon Yeosang’s explanation and watched him for a second longer, taking in his features. He seemed tall, at least taller than me, and his frame was well-built but his muscles weren’t bulging uglily. His black hair was longer and beside the few strands which framed his chiseled face, the rest was pushed behind his ears. His round eyes watched me softly and his pink lips were pulled in a comforting smile, he looked like he was pitying me. I watched the discoloration next to his left eye and cheekbone, wondering what caused the redness of his flawlessly frail skin. He was tanner than me, but then again, I was as white as a wall. I averted my eyes, realizing that I was staring and he could see it and noticed how drowsy I started becoming. My headache became dull and I noticed how the aching of my body didn’t seem so unbearable anymore as I lay on my side, feeling Yeosang’s watchful eyes on me. He didn’t move and I didn’t have the energy to stay alert as my body succumbed to fatigue. My eyelids fluttered shut and I sighed loudly, feeling the weight of the warm blanket fall over my petite form. Darkness abducted me for a second time tonight, but this time it didn’t feel so menacing, so final.

Normally, I would have never slept through the night without waking up shaking in fear, having to wipe my tears away as my mind was plagued with nightmares. Normally, I wasn’t even allowed to sleep throughout the whole night as men came and went whenever they wanted to, no such thing as rest was allowed at the brothel. Or the torture house, as I had started referring to it years ago. But something in the teas Yeosang offered to me must’ve had some anesthetics as I hadn’t even woken up to the thunderstorm ripping through the place currently. There was something very comforting about storms, but I could never truly sleep during one, the thunder oddly reminded me of screaming men who berated you and then punished you for not listening to them. I only woke up when the faint clanking of porcelain registered not far from my head, which was still pounding, but not as painfully as last night. My eyebrows furrowed as I shoved my face further into the flower-scented pillow, until the aching of my back caught up with my brain and I realized where I was. Eyes flew open and I shot up, scrambling back into the wooden wall when I realized how close the angelic faced man was standing to me. Yeosang, was his name, I remembered. He looked just as startled as me as he stared back wide eyed, hands hovering in the air above the tray he was holding seconds ago. My heart was beating fast as I stared at him, biting my bottom lip as the entirety of my back was pulsing, thighs sore and right ankle throbbing.

“Oh,” Yeosang mumbled, looking lost as he looked between himself and the bed, he was standing by the bedside table, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you awake.”

I remained silent as I watched the man fumble around for a second until he stepped back, scratching the back of his head, “You really shouldn’t press your back against anything right now, Miss.”

He said he was a doctor; his constant attention to my actions was probably because he knew better what was wrong or right for my body, but I couldn’t move. I was scared to. What if he really was just acting to gain my trust and then use me like so many others have before him? My brain was screaming at me to move away from the wall, the pain was becoming too much, but then I would get closer to him, making it easier for him to reach out for me. I couldn’t do that.

“Alright,” Yeosang mumbled a little defeated when he realized I wouldn’t move and he looked around at a loss before his eyes fell back on the tray, “I brought your breakfast. We don’t have much food on the ship right now, but I saved some rice for you.”

Ship? For the first time, I allowed my eyes to look around the room, to take in my surroundings. Everything was made out of dark, sturdy wood. The room was relatively small, but still bigger than the room I was allowed to inhabit back at the brothel. It had the necessities only, the bed I was sitting on, a nightstand with a vase and a white lily in it, a desk which was full of chests of different sizes, a chair next to it, and a wardrobe. The house was still rocking from left to right, albeit a bit harsher compared to last night. But I wasn’t in a house, I wasn’t on land anymore. I was on a ship, trapped here even if I wished to run away. The thought sent panic through my veins and my breathing accelerated, but as I looked at Yeosang, the helplessness in his eyes somehow calmed me down. He really didn’t seem harmful, but I could never be too sure. He looked like he didn’t know what to do as he stared at me and I looked away, embarrassed. My eyes fell back on the nightstand and suddenly, my stomach rumbled loudly. I bit my lower lip and refused to look at Yeosang as my cheeks flushed. I haven’t even realized up until now how hungry I was.

“It’s simple rice and a boiled egg, you really should eat, Miss, your body is too weak. It won’t recover if you don’t feed it.” His voice sounded desperate as he spoke up and I nodded wordlessly, reluctantly reaching for the tray. But it pulled a muscle in my back and I hissed as a strong pang of pain traveled from my shoulders to the center of my back, making Yeosang slightly step towards me, but when my wide eyes looked up at him, he froze. He bowed his head and took a step back, a good four steps away from the bed now. He was standing in the middle of the room, hands clasped in front of him and head bowed. For a second, the image of him almost covering in front of me made me feel bad, but it didn’t last for long as I realized it could be an act. I reached for the bowl of food and fork, quickly pressing back against the wall, ignoring the pain, inhaling the food in mere minutes. Yeosang remained quiet as he watched me eat, I couldn’t care less what I looked like since I hadn’t had a meal in three days. Despite the rice being simple it tasted amazing, and it wasn’t because I was so famished, it was because the cook did a very good job. I ate the egg too, licking the fork clean once I was finished with my breakfast, looking back up at Yeosang with grateful eyes. I was still a bit hungry, but it was nothing I couldn’t deal with, I was used to it. A big smile appeared on Yeosang’s face and he nodded happily, reaching out to take the bowl, but I quickly placed it on the edge of the bed, scared of any contact. His smile slightly fell, but he quickly fixed his expression and took the bowl, placing it back onto the tray, and cleared his throat.

“Wooyoung is quite the cook, isn’t he?” I glanced at him but said nothing, and after waiting for a few seconds, he continued awkwardly, “Yeah, uh, I brought some more medicine. It’s the same from last night, but I added a little ginger into the sour one so it won’t taste good still, sorry. But it’s important for your immune system, anyways, it will make you sleepy but it’s good if you sleep, you heal faster, did you know that?”

Yeosang’s eyebrows raised in question and I shook my head no, the information new to me. Yeosang grinned and extended the two little cups towards me, which I took cautiously, making sure our fingers didn’t touch by accident. I drank the contents of it, cringing more from the taste of ginger, making Yeosang chuckle as he took the cups back once I placed them on the edge of the bed.

“I know not everyone likes ginger, it once made Mingi throw up when he was sick and I prepared a tea for him, but I personally really like it. It’s a bit spicy, but very tasty, and—” Yeosang sucked in a deep breath as I stared at him wide eyed, taken aback by his chatty personality, “Sorry, I ramble a lot. I figure you might not be used to that, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable by any means.”

I fought the muscles of my face as they threatened to pull up into a smile and instead lowered my head before I nodded, uncomfortable silence engulfing us. Yeosang hesitated for a few seconds before he cleared his throat, “You should lay down, take pressure off your back. I’m going to leave you alone until lunch. Nobody will bother you; do you want me to lock the door?”

If he locked the door, did it mean nobody but him could enter? He would also trap me in here, defenseless, but once again, we were on a ship. It’s not like I could run away. The most I could do was jump into the sea and die. The thought of dying, all of a sudden, didn’t sound as comforting as last night. It was foreign. Peeking up at Yeosang through my lashes, I nodded to let him know that I wanted him to lock the door. Yeosang humped and grabbed the tray off the nightstand, eyes falling on me when I moved to lay on my back, wincing and gasping at the pain, tears springing into my eyes. The headache was still dull, but it couldn’t be compared to the ache of the rest of my body, I could only hope the medicine would make its effects quickly, lulling me to sleep where I wouldn’t feel anything. I could only hope to have a dreamless rest, my body probably wouldn’t be able to cope with torment even in my dreams. I let out a shaky breath as I tried to relax against the sheets, but my back was burning, and a few tears started rolling down my cheeks.

“Stop laying on your back.” Yeosang’s soft voice suddenly turned stern and my eyes snapped up to look at him, his eyebrows were furrowed and he looked distressed. He also looked angry. I have misbehaved. Punishment would follow. My lips started trembling at the thought, knowing very well my body wasn’t able to take any more abuse, and all I could do was start crying harder, shaking my head no and looking at Yeosang pleadingly. His anger dissipated instantly and his eyes widened as he took a step towards me, but I whimpered and he froze again, looking confused and guilty at the same time, “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—please don’t be scared of me.”

His voice was pleading and his lips were downturned as his eyebrows furrowed, looking at me with sadness written all over his face, “I won’t harm you; I just don’t want your wounds to worsen. You should stop laying on your back and pressing it against the wall until it’s somewhat healed, please. Sleep on your front, if you can, or turn to the side—nothing will happen to you while you’re here, alright?”

His words did no good as my mind was ready for anything, ready to take the blows and the screams. I couldn’t help but cry more as I struggled to turn onto my stomach, muscles screaming in pain and body trembling. Yeosang watched me speechless, grip tightening around the tray. His words were my command, there were few things I wouldn’t do if he asked me. I buried my face in the pillow, my tears wetting it as I felt movement next to me and before I could turn and look, the door to the room opened and closed, a key locking it before I could hear Yeosang’s footsteps walking away hurriedly. He was the first man who didn’t yell at me for not listening to him. He was the first man who walked away instead of antagonizing me.

The day passed by in a blur, Yeosang was back when it was lunchtime but he didn’t stay for long and he didn’t say much. I took the medicine, a different kind of tea this time, and went back to sleep as the rocking of the ship was making me feel nauseous. Besides, I had nothing else to do and the dull ache of my body exhausted me beyond like anything else, even if all I did was lay in bed all day. But I woke up a few hours after lunch and found myself wide awake for the first time. The wounds decorating my back were pulsing, but it wasn’t as unbearable as the sharp pangs of pain which seemed to plague my system before the medicine I took during lunch. My head stopped thumping and for the first time it felt like it was truly above the surface. My thighs were sore and despite me trying to massage them nothing much happened. I also noticed for the first time the bandages wrapped around my ankle and around the few cuts on my biceps. I finally felt the soft cloth pressed against my back, and I realized Yeosang had bandaged me up the second he found me. My heart warmed at the thought, but I couldn’t trust him just yet. He could be acting. He could be playing me. He could be helping me just to sell me off once again once I get better. Men weren’t trustworthy, I have learned that a long time ago.

Having turned onto my side, I was facing the little circle window of the room and I could see the cloudy sky and the sea when a wave crashed against the ship. I was curious as to where we were, whether we were close to the shore or far away; I have never been on a ship before. I had no idea what the sea looked like once you were sailing it. I never had the luxuries of trying out such mundane things as travelling. It was truly depressing. Feeling curious and courageous, I pushed myself up into a sitting position and allowed my feet to dangle off the bed. My pink dress was dirty and torn, I hadn’t even thought about that until now. But I had no spare dresses, so I couldn’t change into anything else. I looked down at myself and noticed the fabric was ripped around my breasts, the outer layer missing, a sheer cloth the only thing hiding my body from view. I was used to being naked, it meant nothing to me, it brought no feeling of shame anymore. I took a deep breath and looked towards the window once again, dusk and the stormy clouds casted a gloomy veil over the room. It wouldn’t hurt anyone if I looked out the window, so I scooted lower on the bed until my feet touched the wooden floor. It was cold at first and I hissed as I stood, suddenly remembering all the shards I ran over when I was trying to get away from that monster. My feet were cut up. It made me wonder if there was at least one little nook on my body which was healthy, untouched currently. Probably not. I bit my lower lip as I slowly took off towards the window, it felt like I was walking on shards all over again, yet there were none here. I barely got to the desk, when I heard the door being unlocked and it swiftly opened behind me. My body went rigid, goosebumps erupting on my skin as someone walked inside, slamming the door shut behind them.

“Miss! You can’t do that!” The deep voice whisper-shouted at me and my hands curled up into fists, body starting to tremble as panic and annoyance oozed from Yeosang’s voice, “Your feet are all cut up!”

I heard him shuffling behind me, but I couldn’t move. I was frozen to my spot, closing my eyes and awaiting the repercussions of my mistakes. After all those years, I really should have known better. You never disobey your master. You never step out of line and you never do anything by yourself, unless you were previously told to. If a beating followed, I would truly deserve it. Yeosang never said I couldn’t walk around before, but he also never said I could. So I took a deep breath and braced myself for the blows as I heard him place the tray on the nightstand forcefully, footsteps storming towards me. My body couldn’t take much, perhaps, I would die tonight at the hands of the doctor. But the expected pain never came as suddenly I felt an arm bending my knees from behind meanwhile another arm went around my shoulders. I was hoisted up into the air before pulled against a firm chest, strong arms holding me snugly against his body as if I weighted nothing. I didn’t think my body could tense even more, but my muscles were screaming at me from how tense I was, it felt like my wounds were opening up once again. My whole body trembled as Yeosang’s warmth seeped into my cold skin, his flowery scent dominant now that I was so close to him. He seemed tense too as he hurried us over to the bed and I closed my eyes when I felt myself being moved again, and I still didn’t open them when I was sat on the edge of the bed, Yeosang’s breathing loud as he stood close. Too close. My body shivered at the loss of warmth and suddenly, the flowery scent was gone and so was the nerve-wrecking proximity of Yeosang. But his gaze was still on me, I could feel it, it was burning into the top of my head as it was lowered. My lips trembled as I fumbled with my fingers in my lap and as the silence was even more prolonged, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m—I’m sorry—” My voice sounded hollow, croaked as I hadn’t spoken in two days. It seems like my throat was still healing from the gut wrenching screams I let out just days ago, “I didn’t—I didn’t know I wasn’t—”

“Miss.” Yeosang’s deep voice was soft and coated with anguish as he cut me off, “Don’t apologize. I didn’t tell you that you shouldn’t walk for now, I am the one sorry. I shouldn’t have frightened you like that nor carried you—I’m sorry, I just panicked. Your wounds are fragile and they can open up anytime, especially the ones on your feet.”

My skin tingled and didn’t feel as cold as before, but I didn’t dare look up at Yeosang. He exuded no negative feelings, but I didn’t want to test my luck. Eye contact could be a show of defiance, of provoking, and I hoped to avoid both.

“I brought you dinner and medicine.” Yeosang mumbled quietly and I nodded as I looked towards the tray on the nightstand. Indeed, there was some rice and stew in a bowl. I reached for it and the fork and quickly dug into it, eyes filling with tears. I sniffed a few times as I devoured my dinner, so thankful to have three meals a day after so many years. My tummy hurt from so much food, but I refused to let even a drop of rice go to waste. Food was precious and I wasn’t going to act ungrateful even if my body refused to intake anymore. When I finished my dinner I dared to look up at Yeosang, and surprisingly he was smiling as he grabbed the two cups of tea. I quickly placed the bowl back on the tray and took the cups from him, hurriedly chugging them down. I noticed another jug in plus and figured it was just water as Yeosang went to place it on the nightstand instead of the tray. My eyes widened once I realized there was no sour taste this time and Yeosang smiled sheepishly, taking the cups from me and placing them back on the tray.

“I finally found the combination,” He said with a chuckle, grinning, “It’s unfortunate that it’s because of your injuries, but it’s also good because from now on it’ll taste good.”

I nodded once and watched Yeosang as he slightly blushed before turning around and grabbing something off the wooden chair. They were clothes. He turned back to face me and took a step towards me. My body tensed, but I didn’t scramble away like before. Yeosang seemed hesitant to take another step, but as I watched him wide eyed, he did, and then extended his hand. I looked at the clothes before back at him, confused.

“I figured you’d like some fresh clothes, yours are…quite damaged.” Damaged was a nice way of saying it, I took the clothes from him with a nod of gratitude, “There are two girls on the ship, so the undergarments and the pants are from them, I figured those would fit you better than mine. I also brought a clean shirt of mine, you can feel free to wear it, I have many more of those.”

Two other girls on the ship? What kind of ship was I on if only two other girls were here besides me? Perhaps I didn’t want to know the answer to that. I bowed my head at Yeosang once again and he smiled, pausing for a second. I placed the clothes next to me on the bed and gripped the front of my damaged dress, tearing the fabric apart, not that it mattered much. That dress was worth nothing at this point. I wore nothing underneath it and goosebumps erupted on my skin as the cool air hit my exposed chest. A gasp left Yeosang’s lips and as I looked up, his face was red and he whirled around rigidly, body tense. My eyebrows furrowed as I paused, looking at him confused. What happened? Did I do something wrong? Did he…not like my body?

“Why…” My voice faltered as I stared at the back of Yeosang’s head, “Why did you turn around?”

“Why—” Yeosang almost exclaimed, voice alarmed, “Because it’s inappropriate for me to watch a woman undress! You’re naked, I—I need to offer you privacy.”

My eyes remained on his strong back, mouth slightly opening in amazement. I watched as the back of his neck flamed, ears turning red too. This man had turned around because I was undressing. Because I was exposing myself to him. Because he was offering me privacy? My lips started trembling and I took in a shaky breath, about to speak up, but Yeosang beat me to it, “I will see you in the morning, Miss, sleep well.”

Sleep well? Since when was the last time anyone wished me that? My eyes were glued to Yeosang as he stormed out of the room, not even once trying to peek at me, he even brought his left hand up to shield his eyes from my naked torso. As soon as the door was locked, I broke down, tears falling freely as my body rocked with sobs, hands working gently to undress myself, having to stand for a little while to wear the undergarments and the pants. I have never been offered privacy before. Not by men, not by women. I couldn’t help but allow my heart to warm a little, silencing the voices in my head. If he truly was just acting, why would he show respect? Men never did that, not even when they were acting. As I buttoned up Yeosang’s clean shirt, I realized that too smelled like flowers. As I got under the thick covers, I couldn’t help but cry myself to sleep as my body has never felt so warm and comfortable before. The alarm bells silent in my mind for the first time.

It was my second day on the ship, and despite the freshness of my wounds, they didn’t hurt as much as I was expecting them to. Yeosang truly was a doctor, his teas were already making their effect. I still couldn’t trust him, but the way the burning of my back would fade into a rhythmic pulsing after each time I drank the medicine was confirmation enough that he wasn’t lying about his identity. I felt grateful, but I couldn’t trust him just yet. It was too soon. I was laying on my side, gazing out the window, thoughts wrapped up in a fantasy world where I was on a boat, out on the sea fishing, on a blazing hot summer day. I haven’t been to my home Kingdom in ages, I wondered if my parents were still alive, if they even remembered me. I couldn’t remember them much, but I could recount the path to our house, and I still remembered the days when my father would take me fishing with himself. These were the only memories of my childhood; these were the only escape my mind could grab onto when things became too hard to cope with. I slightly tensed when I heard knocking on the door, wondering who it could be since Yeosang never knocked before unlocking the door. It also couldn’t have been lunch time, he usually brought food later in the afternoon. I grimaced as I quickly sat up when the door was unlocked and watched with wide eyes as Yeosang slipped inside the room, peeking out cautiously before he closed the door softly and locked it again. Whenever he brought food he didn’t lock the door. My heartbeat picked up as I stared at him, taking in his attire. He wore black leather pants with a black sleeveless t-shirt tucked inside them, a brown leather belt snug around his waist. His black hair was pushed behind his ears and I just noticed two bobby pins securing them. My eyes fell onto the tray he was carrying and my heartbeat picked up even more as there was a big bowl of water and a few rags next to it. What did he plan on doing to me?

“It’s not yet lunchtime.” Yeosang spoke up, seemingly frozen in front of the door, “But I have to change your bandages so that your wounds don’t get infected. It’s the only free time I have from my duties, I hope I’m not intruding.”

Intruding on what? I almost chuckled, but instead just lowered my gaze to the bed and shook my head no, making Yeosang nod to himself. He walked further inside the room and placed the tray down on the nightstand. It looked heavy, the muscles of his biceps were bulging until he placed the tray down. Wasn’t he doing too much for me? At the brothel no one would even check up on me, let alone try and change my bandages. I pushed the warm blanket off my body and sat up fully, scooting towards the edge of the bed, not quite knowing how Yeosang wanted to proceed with this. I watched as he walked up to the desk and opened the largest chest, which was full of gauze. He took one roll into his hand before closing it, then opened the one to its left, slightly smaller than the previous chest. This one was filled with vials and different little metallic containers. Yeosang’s lips pursed as his eyes ran over the different contents, until they stopped on a black tin can. He hummed and took that one out, closing the chest and opening the smaller one in front of it, swiftly grabbing a lidded tube which contained a yellowish liquid. Yeosang turned to face me and froze for a second, seemingly taken aback by me watching him and waiting for him at the edge of the bed. My face remained expressionless as he blushed, even though I was trying very hard not to smile. He seemed cute for a second, until my brain decided to remind me that he was just acting. Trying to gain my trust.

“So, uhm, I will start by patching up your feet,” He mumbled as he came closer, making my body slightly tense at the proximity. He gently placed down every item in his hands on the floor before grabbing the bowl and rags and doing the same. I watched with furrowed eyebrows as he sat on the floor, right where my legs were dangling. Why was he sitting there? Shouldn’t he have gotten on the bed instead?

“Is it fine if I touch your feet?” My eyebrows furrowed as Yeosang looked up at me expectantly, and I nodded dumbly, trying to asses the situation. Why was he even asking for permission? He was only touching my feet, “Alright, I will clean your feet with water first and then apply a minty ointment on them, it might sting at first, but it’s very good for inflammation. It kills anything which isn’t supposed to be inside your wounds.”

The last bit sounded disgusting and my face scrunched up involuntarily, making Yeosang chuckle. He scooted a bit closer and then looked up in my eyes, gaze soft, “Ready?”

“Ready.” I found myself whispering back, enticed by his gaze and his deep voice, making Yeosang’s eyes widen at the sound of my voice. He smiled to himself before he quickly looked down and tentatively touched my left foot, his hands slightly colder than my own skin. I flinched a bit and Yeosang muttered a quiet sorry, before he grasped my foot firmly, raising it so he could inspect it. His eyebrows slightly furrowed and then he dipped the rag into the water and quickly got to work, cleaning my foot.

“They look a lot better compared to when I found you, Miss.” His voice sounded happy as he informed me, gently pressing against my skin here and there with the rag. The water was warm, and it felt actually nice to have my feet cleaned, after walking on it, I’m sure I had drawn a little blood. Yeosang’s calloused hands were soft and very careful as he slightly massaged my ankles once he disregarded the rag and then grabbed the tin can, opening it with one hand. He scooped out a copious amount of white ointment and then gently started rubbing it against the cut wounds. My eyebrows furrowed and I hissed as I went to yank my feet away, but Yeosang was faster and caught my ankles, keeping me in place. It did sting, a lot, actually, but as soon as it came it was already gone, leaving me flabbergasted.

“It’s an uncomfortable feeling, I know. I’ve had my fair share of this ointment as well,” Yeosang explained as he applied some more, this time the sting less intense, “But trust me when I say this…it does wonders, your feet will be healed in no time!”

Yeosang’s little exclamation made my eyebrows raise in surprise and he blushed again as he looked up at me, averting his eyes quickly as I tried to fight the smile off my lips. How was it possible that he could make me smile so easily? Why did my body feel like it was buzzing with life in the mere presence of him? He was a man I couldn’t trust yet, but his demeanor made that rather hard to accomplish. However, the walls built around my heart and mind were stronger than this, they wouldn’t allow me to slip and blindly offer my trust to him. I just couldn’t.

“Your feet are all done.” Yeosang said with a smile and scooted back, looking up at me, “How are your thighs? Still bruised, right?”

I nodded wordlessly and lowered my head, hiding my embarrassment as Yeosang just hummed and got up from the floor, walking to the desk. I peeked at him and watched as he opened the drawer of the desk and grabbed a black tube before he walked back to me. My body tensed at the proximity again; I couldn’t help it; it was a subconscious answer at this point. If Yeosang noticed, he said nothing about it, just placed the tube on the nightstand and pointed at it, “You should smear this over the bruises—after I have left, of course!”

He was quick to add that in, eyes widened, probably remembering how quick and unashamed I was to undress in front of him. I couldn’t help but grin and as Yeosang blushed, again, I bit my lower lip and averted my eyes, waiting for what he wished to do next. Yeosang cleared his throat and pushed the stray hair strands out of his face as he leaned down to grab the wet rag and the vial of yellowish liquid, “I’m sorry, but I have to clean your back too. You—you have to take off your shirt for that…”

Yeosang and I looked into each other’s eyes as his words seemed to hang in the air between us, filled with tension. I had no problem with taking off my shirt, but he seemed uncomfortable. It was very strange, uncommon. Yeosang’s eyebrows were furrowed as I went to unbutton the shirt and he quickly looked away, “I normally wouldn’t ask such thing of you, Miss, but there’s no other way to treat the wounds on your back. You can lay down on your front or stay sitting and hold the shirt to your chest, whichever makes you less uncomfortable.”

“I don’t have a problem with you seeing me naked.” I couldn’t help but let the words slip out as I stared at Yeosang’s profile. He sucked in a harsh breath and shook his head, eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s—that’s not how you’re supposed to think, Miss.” Yeosang mumbled and my own eyebrows furrowed, “It’s your body. Nobody should be able to see you so vulnerable unless you want them to. Everyone needs to be respected, you included.”

I stood staring at him, mouth slightly falling open as his words whirled around in my head, something deep in my chest breaking. Respect? I can’t remember a time when anyone respected me. The tears in my eyes were quick to surface, but I managed to keep them from falling, managed to gulp and suppress the urge of wanting to sob into his chest. He was being so nice. He was treating me like a human being, not like an item.

“I’m making you feel uncomfortable.” I suddenly realized, “I keep acting like a harlot.”

“Miss, don’t say that!” Yeosang was quick to interject, eyes widening as he finally looked at me. There was a fire in his eyes, so strong and burning, that for a second I was left breathless. He looked angry, sad, and determined at the same time as he shook his head, “Don’t ever say that about yourself! Don’t let anyone make you feel something you’re not. And don’t degrade yourself.”

The intensity in his eyes made me nod without much thought, drinking in his words. Even if I wanted to contradict him, I wouldn’t have been able to. He seemed to firmly believe his words, and I couldn’t help but believe him. I settled for a simple question, instead, “Do you mind if I don’t lay down?”

It brought back unpleasant memories and I couldn’t do it right now, not when my mind felt like a mess. When my heart couldn’t decide what to stand for. Would a man who was acting be so sincere and fired about what a woman calls herself?

“Of course not, as long as it makes you comfortable, I am comfortable too.” Tears sprung to my eyes again and I nodded, biting my lower lip and averting my gaze from him. My fingers went to grip the buttons of my shirt again, but this time I paused, and cleared my throat quietly.

“Then, I’m going to take off my shirt.” Yeosang said nothing as he turned around, his back facing me. I stared at him for a few seconds before undoing the buttons, fingers lightly shaking from the flood of emotions I was experiencing after such long time of feeling nothing but numbness. These were positive feelings; I couldn’t even decide whether to cry or laugh. Instead, I settled on chewing my lower lip nervously, fighting those tears from falling. My chest felt heavy, but I ignored it as I turned to the side, facing the wall, and pressed the shirt to my chest to make Yeosang feel comfortable, concealing my naked chest, “I’m ready.”

“Good, I will sit behind you then.” Yeosang informed and turned to the left without looking at me, keeping his eyes fixed to the floor. I watched him closely, the red spots on his temple and cheek catching my eyes again. I wondered what those were. I have never seen anything like it on anyone else. I turned my head towards the wall when I couldn’t watch Yeosang anymore and I felt the bed dip behind me, flowery scent invading my nostrils as my body tensed up once again. My arms were covered in goosebumps and I took in a shaky breath when Yeosang shifted closer, his knee lightly grazing against my waist. I knew he had to get close in order to change the bandages, but it still felt nerve-wracking.

“May I touch you? Are you alright?” A stray tear rolled down my cheek and I nodded wordlessly, knowing that my voice would betray me right now. His attentive behavior and constant asking for consent was becoming too much. I felt Yeosang sighing behind me, his hot breath hitting my left shoulder, before careful fingers started peeling the gauze off my back. I shuddered at the feeling, despite it not being painful, my skin burned as the protective layer disappeared. I felt exposed and I couldn’t help but sniff loudly when the gauze was fully off my back. Yeosang paused, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, continue.” I whispered, clutching the shirt tightly in my hands as I felt Yeosang moving behind me. The dirty gauze was dropped to the floor and I dared take a glance at it, it was almost fully covered in blood. The sight made me nauseous. I should’ve listened to Yeosang, he was probably trying to avoid this from happening, but I couldn’t help how my body reacted when it thought it was in danger.

“I’m going to clean your back now, may I?” I nodded and felt the press of the rag against my raw skin, hissing as even the warm water made it sting. My back was burning as Yeosang carefully washed it clean, having to scrub gently in some places, but I could take it. My body has been through so much worse. He was doing this to help me too, I would never complain.

“I know it hurts, I’m sorry, but I have to thoroughly clean it otherwise it will get infected and then I can’t help you anymore, Miss.” Yeosang explained and I nodded in understatement, realizing I have never told him my name. That’s why he kept calling me Miss. I knew his, meanwhile he didn’t know mine, yet he never asked nor demanded for it.

“I’m going to pour some oil like serum on your back now, it won’t sting like the minty one.” I heard him open the vial, it made a quiet sound when it was popped open, “It has aloe vera in it, so it’s supposed to calm the burning feeling and it’s also an amazing antioxidant for open wounds. Your wounds aren’t deep enough to be stitched up, that’s why we have to take close care of them, Miss.”

“Alright, thank you for telling me.” I voiced my gratitude for the first time and Yeosang hummed lowly, a sound which tinged my cheeks red. His voice could get incredibly deep, it was quite unexpected.

“May I proceed then?” Yeosang inquired quietly and I nodded, biting my lower lip as he poured the serum over my wounds, fingers carefully massaging it into the skin. It slightly stung, but I was surprised at the warm feeling which engulfed my whole back as Yeosang kept rubbing it deeper into the wounds. It felt so good, the pain finally subsided for even a little bit and I could feel my body relaxing, muscles finally crying out in relief as I let out a shaky breath. My head hung low and more tears started falling down my cheeks. It felt so warm and relieving, I wanted to thank Yeosang a million times, but instead, I asked the question which was burned to the forefront of my mind.

“Why do you keep asking for consent when you want to touch me?” Yeosang’s fingers froze mid massage and I tensed slightly, wondering if I pissed him off this time, if he would break and show his true intentions. But nothing happened, he resumed his ministrations and then sighed long and deeply.

“Because I keep touching you.” His words held a finality to them, they were hard but not harsh, “Because if you told me to stop, I would. Because I would never touch you inappropriately or against your will. I’m a doctor and my duty is to heal you, Miss, not damage you more. And even still…I would never lay a finger on you…I just—I couldn’t hurt you—or anyone. No human being is capable of doing such horrible things like what was done to you, I—I’m sorry. I promise to heal you and then let you go, Miss, once we hit land you’ll be free.”

His words sounded too good to be true. As if I was in a dream. As if he was a prince talking to his princess. And he sounded so genuine. I couldn’t find anything but sincerity in his voice and that just made my lungs feel even more restricted, brought more tears into my eyes. People like him existed? They were real? Could he be not acting? As his fingers disappeared I knew he was done massaging the serum into my skin and Yeosang leaned down to grab the fresh gauze.

“I’ll wrap this around you and you’re good to go.” He said and I couldn’t help but start crying, trying to keep quiet, but I couldn’t when hiccups started leaving my mouth. Yeosang seemed alarmed, thinking he had hurt me, but I just muttered for him to continue and ignore me, too overwhelmed by my own feelings. He worked quickly, probably scared that he was the cause of my breakdown, and while he indeed was, it wasn’t from any ill-intention. It was because for the first time in my life I felt like I was being treated like a human being. Like I was being respected and given a choice.

“My—my name is—” I spoke up between sobs, wiping the tears off my cheeks only for new ones to roll down, “It’s—Y/N.”

Yeosang sucked in a harsh breath of air before humming, careful to not touch my skin as he wrapped the gauze around my torso. I allowed the shirt to fall to my lap, he couldn’t see me from behind, it was fine, “Glad to meet you, Y/N.”

His voice was sweet as he said my name and I could hear the smile in it, making me sniff even more and cry harder, “You too, Yeosang.”

When he was done with the gauze, he tied it tightly against my back, patting his hands down to make sure it fit correctly against my small form. I felt him moving behind me and his warmth and flower like scent disappeared as he got off the bed, but didn’t move. He was waiting for me to dress myself. I bit my lower lip and tried to stop crying, but it was hard, as I wore his shirt and did the buttons with a shaky hand.

“I’m from the Sun Set Kingdom.” I muttered as I did the last button, Yeosang moved to place the items he used before back to their place. He made a surprised sound and then looked at me with a smile, ignoring how pathetic I looked right now, tears still flowing down my cheeks.

“Me too!” He seemed happy as he closed his chests filled with medicine, “We’re both far away from home, then.”

I nodded and watched as Yeosang gathered the dirty rugs and bowl of water, placed them back on the tray and stood up straight, walking to the door. He unlocked it and before he opened it, he peeked back at me over his shoulder, “Don’t forget about the ointment for your thighs.”

“I won’t.” I nodded as he slipped out the door, locking it behind him before he walked away. I face planted into the pillow and allowed the sobs to wreck my body, for my heart to ache just like the rest of my body.

My body felt exhausted for the rest of the day after Yeosang placed on the new bandages, my mind wrapped up with thoughts and heart clenching with unwanted feelings. I didn’t know how to feel anymore. I knew I couldn’t trust Yeosang so quickly, but he sounded genuine. His eyes reflected nothing but honesty and purity. Would he treat me so gently if he was just acting? Would he get mad or tense even at the little implications of why I was in such state? Would he respect me so much if he truly was just acting? I couldn’t tell what was real or not anymore. I have never been shown so much care and respect before, my body and mind yearned for it. It screamed out for Yeosang’s tenderness and warmth. He radiated calmness and safety. I have barely known him for three days, yet I wanted nothing more but ask him to protect me from the horrors of the world. Would he do that? Could he do that? Everything hurt as I tossed around sleepless, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted in constant huffs as my mind kept racing with questions. Dinner was hours ago; the medicine has made its effect and the pain felt dull. The rocking of the ship wasn’t as bothersome as up until now, it didn’t make me feel nauseous anymore. Perhaps I was getting used to it. Or perhaps the waters have calmed down, the storm passing by us. I yearned for fresh air, but I was scared of what the men on this ship would do to me. Or was everyone like Yeosang? My ears perked up when I heard shuffling just outside the door, body tensing when I heard a faint knock. It was quiet, barely there, and I gripped the blanket and pulled it up to my nose, curling up in a ball despite Yeosang’s warnings not to do so. I could only hope the wounds wouldn’t bleed. My heart started thumping wildly as the key was inserted into the keyhole, slowly, carefully turning without making any sound. Yeosang never bothered me after dinner. Did someone else take the key? Did he give it to someone else? Of course, I have started trusting him too fast and now I was about to get treated like on the mainland. My breath stuttered and I tried to make myself even smaller as the door cracked open just a little, dim light flooding inside the room. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and stopped breathing altogether. If I made no sound, perhaps they would think I wasn’t here.

“Y/N,” The deep voice was familiar, “It’s Yeosang.”

I released a deep breath and opened my eyes, peeking at him as he swiftly entered the room and quickly locked the door. He stood frozen in front of it as we stared at each other, both of our eyes wide, “You shouldn’t curl up like that…”

He whispered, eyebrows furrowed, breaking the tense atmosphere. I nodded and straightened my body, laying on my side, heart still beating fast. Yeosang scratched the back of his head and took a step further inside the room, seeming very hesitant and nervous. It was rubbing off on me as I waited tensely for him to say anything else.

“I’m sorry, I know this is unexpected, but—” Yeosang cleared his throat before continuing in a whisper, “Nobody besides myself and the two other women know about your presence on the ship. If I keep sleeping in Jongho’s room they will come and inspect mine, thinking something was wrong. The other pirates started getting suspicious already, I can’t—I have to sleep in here, Y/N. It’s my room, you know.”

My brain seemed to be hung up on one thing only, “Pi—pirates?”

I’ve only heard about them when the other ladies at the brothel would whisper about them, dreading their time with them. They sounded ruthless and aggressive, had little care for anyone else besides themselves. I exhaled shakily as Yeosang approached the bed, but stood at the end of it.

“Yes, we’re Ateez.” Yeosang answered and watched me expectantly, as if I was supposed to know what that meant. But I have never heard of that name before, so I just raised my eyebrows, lowering the blanket from my nose. There was no need to hide myself anymore.

“Do you not know Ateez?” Yeosang asked when I stared wordlessly and I quickly shook my head no, “Oh, well then, uhm, yeah. We’re like…well-known for the things we do, you know? On the sea, we’re—quite famous? I mean, people tend to stay away from us because we’ve created a reputation for ourselves and our Captain is quite fearless. He’s a well-respected man amongst pirates.”

I nodded and chewed on my bottom lip, taking in his words, “Are you dangerous? Do you hurt people?”

My voice sounded too small, but I couldn’t help the shudder which followed. I knew Yeosang saw it as he rubbed his chin, trying to smile, “We never hurt innocent people—we don’t hurt women.”

I averted my eyes when his stare felt too much, eyes boring into mine. I understood what he was saying. He wouldn’t hurt me, but I couldn’t be so sure of that just yet. I nodded without looking at him and he walked further inside his room, headed towards the wardrobe.

“I will sleep on the floor, don’t worry—”

“I can’t let you do that, it’s your own room.” I quickly interjected, sitting up quickly, wincing at the burn of my muscles. I should be more careful; my wounds weren’t even half healed.

“I’d rather you feel comfortable, Y/N, sleeping on the floor is nothing I can’t handle.” Yeosang’s lips pulled into a reassuring smile and I gulped, looking down at the bed. His eyes were soft. And once again, he was putting me before himself. Wanting me to feel comfortable. He was caring about how I felt, instead of how he would feel.

“Please,” I said quietly, looking up into his eyes, “I would feel horrible if you slept on the floor. It’s—it’s the least I can do to show gratitude for everything you’ve done for me.”

“I haven’t even done anything, Y/N, I’m just healing you.” Yeosang’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head, “It’s my duty as a doctor.”

“I know,” I pressed, biting my lower lip, “But I—please, just let me do this. I have no money to pay you.”

“I don’t need money.” Yeosang muttered, eyes lit up with a fire I couldn’t recognize, “I just want to see you healthy and walking away from here.”

I said nothing as my heart clenched and I licked my lips, staring into Yeosang’s eyes pleadingly. I really had nothing with what I could pay him back, this was the least I could do. It was his room after all. I didn’t want to deny comfort from him, he wouldn’t deserve it. In this moment, I decided to blindly trust him. Yeosang seemed to be fighting with himself, eyebrows furrowed as he ran his fingers through his hair, which was framing his face without the bobby pins. He glanced back at me and then suddenly sighed, shaking his head, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” My voice sounded firm for the first time as I nodded and Yeosang nodded back, slowly approaching the bed. I scooted closer to the wall and laid on my back, making space for him. The bed wasn’t big, but I was small and so Yeosang had enough space. I closed my eyes as I felt the bed dip and then the blanket was slightly lifted as Yeosang sat on the edge of the bed. He shuffled around for a bit and then his body was laying next to mine, mirroring my stance, blanket pulled over his body too. I tensed without meaning too, breath catching in my throat for a second, used to this, yet the feeling so unfamiliar. His warmth seemed to quickly envelope mine and I found myself breathing in his familiar flower scent. Yeosang didn’t seem to be tense, he was staring up at the wooden ceiling, jaw clenching and unclenching. I turned my head and allowed myself to stare at his profile in the darkness, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Despite the bed being small and Yeosang a buffer man, his body never touched mine. Not even his hands as they were intertwined and placed on his stomach. He seemed to be deep in thought and my eyes traced the outline of his sharp nose, eyes having long adjusted to the dark. His lips were slightly parted and as he blinked, he suddenly turned his head and looked at me. I jumped and quickly turned my head away, towards the wall, embarrassed. Yeosang made no sound and didn’t move as he continued looking at me. My cheeks were burning and I cleared my throat, fingers flexing and unflexing as I turned my head to stare at the ceiling. Yeosang didn’t look away and I took a shaky breath, so many feelings stirring inside my heart. Any other men would’ve been on top of me by now. They wouldn’t even bothered asking before they got in the same bed with me. Yeosang didn’t even ask, he offered to sleep on the cold, hard floor. My eyebrows furrowed at the thought and I couldn’t help the words which bubbled out.

“I was kidnapped by a man at a young age and was soon sold off to a family.” My voice sounded too loud in the quiet room, but it was barely above a whisper, “The family wasn’t too bad, until the father started becoming handsy. I ran away, and the man who kidnapped me found me somehow and took me with himself once again. But this time he sold me off to an old man, who was—not a good person. I lived with him for two years, until he died. Until I—I—killed him.”

My hands started shaking as all the repressed memories were resurfacing. Yeosang sucked in a sharp breath next to me, but I continued, a newfound braveness seeping through my veins, “His son found me and well—I survived. Barely, but I did. I was forced to be his maid for too long, and when he got bored he made me work at an Inn. I don’t know how it happened, fate was probably laughing in my face, but the man who kidnapped me showed up again at the Inn—years after, he recognized me. I felt so helpless as he took me with himself and sold me off again. To a brothel this time, and I’ve been working there up until three days ago. My last client—he wanted me to go to his house. I’ve always been afraid of him; he’s always been so scary and just—not sane. I didn’t do anything, but he just—started to take his anger out on me. Promised I’d never see the daylight ever again. I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to fight him off and run away, but he found me at the cliff. He didn’t even think twice before pushing me down. I think he once said I resembled his late wife whom he hated, it was a long time ago, I don’t quite remember. I was sure I was going to die in the sea that night, you know? And when I felt someone pulling me to the surface—I wanted nothing more than for the sea to swallow me up, to save me from humans. But I don’t know anymore how to feel. What to think. You’re—not like them. You’re gentle and you respect me. Want to heal me, help me. I want to trust you, Yeosang, but the voices in my head keep whispering that you’re just acting to earn my trust, I can’t help it.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, biting my lower lip as I didn’t dare move. Yeosang seemed stiff next to me, I couldn’t hear him breathing anymore. I was afraid to look at him, so I didn’t, I just stared up at the ceiling and blinked rapidly, the tears in my eyes sudden. I didn’t want to cry, but my chest felt heavier the longer the silence stretched between us. And then, finally, Yeosang sighed. Deep and long. I heard the movement before I felt a warm hand grabbing mine underneath the blanket. My body felt too exhausted to react, I couldn’t help but cling onto Yeosang’s warm hand, fingers intertwining with his. Nobody has held me like that before. So firmly yet tenderly.

“We all make mistakes, you had to kill that man because he gave you no other choice.” His words surprised me and a few tears were quick to roll down my cheeks. I had always felt so horrible about what I had done. I wasn’t a murderer, yet I took a life. I wasn’t a God, yet I was playing God. I wished for forgiveness every day after that, but I never got an answer. I have sinned so severely that not even the Gods wanted to give me another chance. I was doomed a long time ago, yet I could never truly accept my fate. Yeosang’s words carried weight, almost as if he understood the feeling, “Sometimes we’re pushed to do things we never knew we were capable of doing. My mother placed me on this ship and paid a lot of money for the Captain to take me in after I’ve done something horrible—after I—I killed my father.”

My heart stuttered for a second and I felt my grip tighten around Yeosang’s fingers, lips parting in surprise.

“If he wasn’t abusive I would’ve never hurt him, but he almost killed my mother. He beat me up too and I just—snapped. It was my mother’s way of saving me by sending me here. I was lucky enough to find a family here within the nine pirates.” I quickly wiped my tears with my free hand and turned my head, to look at Yeosang. He turned his head too, eyes glistening with unshed tears. My breath caught in my throat for a moment, he looked so soft. So warm and gentle, “When you’re all healed up and healthy, Y/N, you are free to go. To get off this ship on a land where nobody knows you, where you can start again. New. Build a life for yourself. Somewhere you’ll be safe.”

“Thank you.” I whispered and Yeosang nodded, determination coating his eyes as he squeezed my hand, before turning his head away and slowly retracting his hand from mine.

“You shouldn’t sleep on your back, Y/N.” He muttered as he turned onto his right side, back facing me. I couldn’t help but smile as I turned onto my left side, facing the wooden wall. Despite being underneath the same blanket, Yeosang’s presence didn’t feel threatening.

“I know.” I whispered back before closing my eyes and allowing the gentle rocking of the ship to lull me into a deep sleep.

Things seemed to change after Yeosang and I started sleeping in the same bed. I wasn’t so tense around him anymore and my body stopped reacting to him as if he brought danger with himself. Yeosang always remained respectful and careful. He never stepped out of line and never touched me unless it was necessary, and even still, he always asked for consent. A week has passed since he found me and saved me and my wounds were healing just fine. My feet felt as good as new, nothing but little scars decorating them. The ointment was like magic and the bruises have been gone from my thighs in just a few days. However, my back was still in the healing process, three wounds still not having fully healed, but I was doing better. The pain had turned into discomfort and the wound would only burn when the aloe vera serum was massaged into it. My muscles have finally eased up and I could move my body freely. I could barely recognize my body, and my mind as well. I was still alert when I heard movement outside the door, but I didn’t flinch nor tense anymore when Yeosang would come close. I stopped questioning his genuineness and allowed my heart to trust him. He would constantly reassure me that he had no malicious intentions and I believed him. I hoped the safe haven he had created would never break, that he truly was the man who he seemed to be. I knew I wouldn’t survive it if he was lying, but I have also decided that if Yeosang wasn’t the man he preached himself to be, then I would just end it here on the ship. At least the sea would take me away quickly, would allow me to go peacefully, to float away into nothingness. Yeosang had told me that nobody on the ship except for Taeri and Ara knew about my existence, so that’s why I had to stay in his room. After I was allowed to walk it wasn’t even too depressing, I could lean against the wall and stare out the window all day long, taking in the beauty of the sea, watching as the waves crashed against the ship, as the sun shone high up in the sky. Despite yearning to feel the warmth of the sun, Yeosang’s room brought comfort and safety and made me never want to leave the ship. Despite usually being a quiet person, Yeosang brought out a side of me I didn’t even know I had, and we were often giggling about peculiar stories we shared with each other during lunch and dinner, sharing the lives we had before we became the way we are.

When Yeosang found out I couldn’t read he made it his personal mission to teach me and the next morning he came to our room with two different books, one thin and the other very thick. They were tale books from the North, talking about folklore and creatures which only existed in fairytales. They were interesting and my curiosity fueled the want to know more, to learn more. Reading proved to be difficult, I wasn’t too good with memorizing things, but Yeosang was patient and calm. He never raised his voice; he never made fun of me or made me feel stupid if he had to help me out with a certain letter. He just explained calmy, patted my shoulder reassuringly, and then allowed me to read. I stuttered quiet often and after whispering how cute I was, he walked off with a blush on his cheeks, excusing himself as he had a lot of work to do, but encouraged me to read the chapter on my own and narrate it to him in the evening. It was the same evening my curiosity got the best of me and as Yeosang and I were sat on the bed, knees touching as our bodies huddled together, book between our laps, I blurted out the question I tried to keep to myself.

“What’s that?” I wondered loudly as I poked his temple carefully, Yeosang’s eyes widening as he turned his head to look at me.

“What is what?” He asked confused and as his eyebrows furrowed, I couldn’t help but think how cute he looked.

“The red mark on your temple and cheekbone.” I explained and cleared my throat, realizing I might’ve been rude for asking such a thing. Perhaps it was something he was uncomfortable with, I didn’t know how he got it after all, “I’m sorry if that was rude—”

“It wasn’t.” Yeosang quickly shook his head with a smile, “The redness is called a birthmark. I was born with it.”

My eyes widened and my lips formed an o shape, never having heard of such a thing before. It was my first time seeing it too on anyone. Yeosang watch my reaction and chuckled to himself with a grin before he turned his head, looking down at the book again. He took it in his hands and hummed, fingers brushing against the last sentence I have read, “Do you believe in it?”

My mind was still stuck on the new information as my eyes bore into the side of Yeosang’s face, eyes glued to the red birthmark. It was special, just like Yeosang. When Yeosang suddenly faced me again, I jumped, realizing he had asked me something. I quickly looked down at the book and re-read the last sentence I have read minutes ago and hummed. The tale was talking about a red string which was similar to fate, but talked about binding two people together. Two people who were supposed to find each other in every lifetime they shared. A bond which could never be broken,

“I’ve never really believed in anything like folklore and tales, but—perhaps if there are Gods then this is real too.” I voiced my thoughts freely, having realized that Yeosang was always curious of what I was thinking, quite often asking for my opinion. Nobody has been interested to hear what I had to say, nor would listen as intently as Yeosang.

“I believe in it.” Yeosang muttered quietly, his deep voice making goosebumps erupt on my skin, “I always thought we had a purpose in life and that the people we come across aren’t coincidental.”

His words carried a nuance I couldn’t quite understand, but couldn’t help but agree with. If Yeosang never came into my life I would be long gone, dead, forgotten.

“You’re the best part of my life, Yeosang.” I found the confession tumbling through my lips, eyes slightly widening when I realized I had said aloud what I was thinking. Yeosang’s lips pulled into a wide smile as we made eye contact and he nodded his head, looking humble and grateful.

“I hope you find more people like me one day, then.”

“I don’t think I will.”

The silence was heavy as we stared into each other’s eyes, mesmerized by Yeosang’s stare. It was soft and warm, filled with gratitude and happiness. I didn’t know what made me do it, but my body yearned for the familiarity of his warmth and I reached out hesitantly, slowly reaching for his hand. Yeosang glanced down when I gently poked my fingers against his hand and a shy smile stretched onto his lips as he opened his palm, facing up. I pressed mine down against his and our fingers intertwined as my face suddenly flushed red, becoming embarrassed. Perhaps it was a normal reaction for your body to yearn for something as simple as holding a hand, but the feeling was foreign and I couldn’t decide whether it was normal or not for Yeosang. His smile got even wider and he hung his head low, the flush on his cheeks matching the redness of his birthmark.

“I have never asked, I just realized this,” He spoke up after he seemed to collect his thoughts, still hiding his face from me, “But did you have anything you enjoyed doing before—before I found you?”

When I was still living in the brothel. And even before that. But Yeosang didn’t have to say that for me to understand, “I love to draw, actually. The brothel paid enough that I could afford some parchment and cheap pencils. It used to help me take my mind off things.”

Yeosang’s fingers twitched slightly and his thumb started rubbing my knuckle, making my heart almost jump through my chest. What was this feeling? Was it normal? Was I about to die?

“I’ll see what I can do about that.” Was all Yeosang said before he picked up the book and continued reading the story about the red string, his thumb stroking my knuckle in an even rhythm, my heartbeat frantic until it finally calmed down to an even beat, the only evidence of feeling flustered the flush on my cheeks.

And this is how I found myself a day later sitting at Yeosang’s desk with a fresh piece of parchment and five pencils. He even had something I could erase the lines with, something I have never even heard of before. I was shocked as he walked in with all the items and made place for them on his packed desk, placing two chests down onto the floor, next to his desk. He led me to the chair and asked me to sit, undoing the bindings around the surprise he had for me. I gasped and thanked him a million times as I opened the parchment and grabbed a pencil, feeling it between my fingers before I started drawing fine lines. Yeosang watched for a little before he excused himself, saying he was needed on deck by his Captain and that he would stop by with lunch. I was taken by the new activity I enjoyed dearly and only hummed at Yeosang as he left the room, leaving it unlocked. He stopped locking the door after I told him I trusted him and felt comfortable with an unlocked door, having realized that nobody other than Yeosang ever came to his room. He seemed reluctant at first, but obliged after a while, telling me that if this is what my wish was, he would respect it. But perhaps I had been too naïve and trusting, because the safe haven Yeosang and I have created in his room, came crashing down as I heard a manly voice echoing down the hallway.

“Kang Yeosang!” The man shouted and I tensed, barely able to react as the door to our shared room was thrown open. I froze for a second and all I could hear was my own breathing as my body tensed, pencil clutched tightly in my hand. The other man said nothing as he took a few steps inside the room. He seemed to forget to close the door, it brought little consolidation to my racing heart.

“Oh,” The voice sounded taunting, “You’re not Yeosang, are you?”

I pushed the chair back and stood up; hands turned into fists as my body lightly shook. This stranger could be just like Yeosang. I shouldn’t be so quick to judge, but I couldn’t help myself. Perhaps the pencil clutched in my hand could be used as a weapon if the man turned out to be another monster from the mainland. I swiftly turned around, trying to ease a smile onto my face and ready to speak up, but I paused. I froze as I stared at the man standing a few steps into the room, one eyebrow raised. His sharp eyes were quick to run over my body and I couldn’t help the instant reaction of my body as it tried to make itself small, shielding my face with my hair as I lowered my head. My body was visibly trembling as my brain quickly placed a name to the face of the man and all the history between the two of us. I suddenly couldn’t breathe as he took more steps further inside the room, feeling like the wooden structure of the room was closing in on me, ready to swallow me up whole.

“Don’t you have a mouth you can use?” The tone of the man was sharp and words harsh as I felt his intimidating glare bore into my head. I bit my lower lip, trying to find courage and speak up. But nothing came out as my lips opened, breathing through my mouth loudly. I was terrified. Perhaps if he didn’t see my face he wouldn’t recognize me.

“I’m looking for my little doctor friend, Yeosang, where is he, don’t you know little mouse?” I cringed at the nickname and closed my eyes harshly when his boots came into view, body freezing at the proximity between the two of us. I stopped breathing as I heard shuffling and suddenly, a harsh hand gripped my chin and raised my head up. I gasped loudly and started hyperventilating as the man shook my head by the grip he had on my chin.

“Open your eyes, little mouse.” My lips trembled as I opened them, but I looked anywhere but at the man’s face. I couldn’t. My body was full on trembling, mind screaming at me to run away. To get away. My grip tightened impossibly more on the pencil, mind racing with thoughts. Could I stab him in the neck if he tried to do anything to me? The atmosphere was tense as neither I nor the man spoke, up until his grip started tightening, making me wince in pain, “Little mouse—or shall I call you Y/N?”

My eyes widened as they snapped back onto the man’s face, terror written all over my face. I could see the same smirk in each one of my nightmares as the man’s lips were stretched into a sneer, looking incredulous but livid at the same time, “Aren’t you a bit far from your little brothel, Y/N? Walked into my little cage willingly, little mouse?”

I shook my head no as tears fell down my cheeks, trying to breathe properly, but I couldn’t anymore, “I—I didn’t know—please, I’m sorry. I—I will go back, just don’t hurt me again—please, San.”

“Weren’t you paid enough at the brothel, is that why you’re here?” San quirked an eyebrow and I quickly shook my head, but he didn’t let me speak, “Or did you come willingly to me, Y/N? Have you finally decided to work for me and only me?”

“No—I—” San chuckled and yanked me forward, faces mere inches away, making me choke on my terribly stuttered words.

“Wrong choice, little mouse.” I let out a sob as San’s wide smile looked sinister, and I knew it only promised more anguish to come, “I know just the perfect client for you. And he’ll pay me lots of money since you’re still good to be used—”

“Let her go!” A deep voice cut off San’s words and my eyes were instantly drawn to Yeosang. He stood in the doorway, chest rising and falling quickly as if he had been running, hair disheveled, and for the first time Yeosang looked scary as his lips were pulled into a scowl and his eyes held sharpness as he glared at the back of San’s head, “Let her go, San, I’m not going to ask again.”

San’s eyebrows were pulled up and he looked at me with amusement written all over his face as he tilted his head slightly at me, a question swimming in his eyes. I shook my head barely, but I knew San caught it as he glanced back at Yeosang with the same amused expression. It made Yeosang livid as he stormed inside the room and grabbed San’s bicep hard and yanked him away, San’s firm grip from my chin disappearing. I gasped as I fell back into the desk, holding tightly against it as my heart raced and I struggled to breathe.

“What the fuck do you want?” I have never heard Yeosang swear. The sweet Yeosang I knew was gone and was replaced by someone I couldn’t recognize. He looked dangerous in his all-black attire, veins on his arms bulging visible as he wore another tank top. His hair fell into his eyes and hid his glare, making him look even more menacing.

“I came to find you, mate, because thanks to Taeri, Ara has managed to actually injure me.” San hissed out, jaw clenched as he gripped the top of Yeosang’s tank top, “And what do I find instead of you? A whore sitting at your desk and drawing.”

It happened barely in a few seconds and I gasped loudly as Yeosang’s punch threw San off balance, head whipping to the side, and if Yeosang wasn’t still holding him, San would’ve stumbled to the floor. My hands flew to my mouth as I watched San raise his head back up slowly, getting all up in Yeosang’s face, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Talk like that ever again about Y/N and I will kill you with my own hands—” The cackle San let out was shrill and it made Yeosang’s head thump as he sucked in a harsh breath, “Touch her again, and it will be Hongjoong who kills you, not me, San.”

“Hongjoong doesn’t give a shit about a whore, Yeosang—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Yeosang screamed, making me flinch, “I thought you learned your lesson with Taeri and Yunho, but it seems like you haven’t.”

“I own that whore!” San screamed back, pointing his finger in my direction, making me sob as Yeosang looked at me, he was breathing harder and harder, “She’s mine, Yeosang, and when we hit land I’m going to sell her off like the good little whore she is—”

“Get the fuck out right now, San.” Yeosang suddenly sounded too calm, face void of any emotion. It even threw San off guard as he stared at him, stumbling forward as Yeosang released him while hauling him forward. San didn’t cast a second glance our way as walked out the room as if nothing had happened. When he was gone, Yeosang finally looked at me, and I couldn’t help but break down in front of him, fall to the floor as I started sobbing loudly, clutching the pencil to my chest as if my life depended on it. Yeosang was frozen until he slowly approached me and crouched down in front of me, his own eyes filled with tears. I was heaving and my body was shaking badly, but his flowery scent was able to clear my mind, to silence the fear inside my brain as I looked up at him. He looked just as broken as I felt. It made me hate myself. Everything was so perfect. And now it was all ruined by San.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve—”

“Stay quiet, Y/N.” Yeosang’s voice was hard and it made me flinch, “What are you apologizing for? That you’re on the same ship as your tormentor? The one who continuously sold you off? That you’re here because of me? Because I am in the same crew as San? Because I’m a horrible person?!”

I shook my head quickly and reached out to hold Yeosang’s face, action foreign, “You’re not a horrible person, Yeosang. You’re anything but that, please—you couldn’t have known that San—You saved me, Yeosang. I’m alive because of you.”

Yeosang’s lower lip trembled as he lowered his face and placed his warm hand over mine, letting out a shuddering breath, “We’ll get to land in a week. Then you’ll be free. And San will never again find you or touch you again, I swear.”

I nodded my head furiously, sniffing as Yeosang suddenly pulled away and stood, storming out the room. I was left alone, trembling and gasping for air as repressed memories of San came back like a violent blow.

Another week passed by like nothing, the days seemed to blur together here on the ship. After what happened with San, Yeosang barely left my side and would lock the door even if he was inside in the room with me. He seemed to be always on high alert and tense if someone walked by his room. It took me a few days until I let Yeosang in again, having seen San and realizing we were on the same ship has messed up my mind. I couldn’t feel as safe as before, but with Yeosang by my side, I knew nothing would happen to me. He stopped San the last time. I knew he’d do it again. Yesterday night when Yeosang came to bed he had told me that we have finally reached land and that while the others would be out tomorrow he’d like to take me to the market himself. The idea sounded exciting and I barely got a wink of sleep all night, tossing and turning freely as my back was all healed up now, scars the only reminder of what was once done to me. The clothes Yeosang brought for me to wear in the morning were a bit foreign and I didn’t know how to feel about them, but I thanked him and wore them nonetheless, almost daring to think that I looked like a real pirate in them. The leather pants I wore were slightly longer than my legs but I managed to tuck them into the worn-out boots Yeosang found for me, they were my size thankfully. The black shirt I wore was silky against my skin and I gaped at it when I pulled it on, feeling the fabric with my fingers in awe. The corset I had a little difficulty with wearing it, foreign and uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to seem ungrateful to Yeosang so I quickly put it on and laced it up myself, leaving it looser since it felt like a reminder of the wounds littered around my torso, a reminder of the suffocating pain they have once caused. When I was done dressing I knocked on the door and Yeosang opened it, a wide smile on his face. His eyes quickly ran over my outfit and he grinned happily, complementing me. I blushed furiously and looked away, having noticed that he also wore all black, our outfits matching in color. It seemed like black tank tops were his favorite as he wore one again, this time a black ribbon tied around his neck. He styled his hair in a way to cover his birthmark and a very obvious sword sat secured around his hips.

“Shall we go then?” Yeosang’s soft voice brought me back from my thoughts and I looked at him and nodded quickly, excited to get off the ship. Excited to see an unknown world. Excited to breathe in some fresh air finally. Yeosang led the way as I kept close behind him, fingers itching to hold onto the back of his tank top, but I stopped myself and just followed close, his bigger frame hiding me from anyone’s view. The corridor we walked down was narrow and long, doors leading to rooms on both sides until we reached wooden stairs leading upstairs. I sucked in a harsh breath when the sound of the waves crashing became louder and the salty air hit my nose, the light almost blinding as I padded after Yeosang. The moment we got on deck I paused, looking around with big eyes, taking in the place I’ve been living in for the past three weeks. The ship was huge. If you were to run around the deck you’d get tired. Yeosang started moving and I followed after him, turning around noticing some more stairs which lead to the quarterdeck, a round wheel sitting highly on top of it. I smiled as the sun shone down upon us, closing my eyes and throwing my head back as I stopped walking, basking in the warm sunlight. Seagulls screamed above us and I chuckled, thankful that I tied my hair in a low ponytail as the wind was strong up here. I felt like I was alive once again as I realized how much I have missed fresh air. It was nice to be out of Yeosang’s room. As I opened my eyes Yeosang was watching me silently, having stopped as well to wait for me. I grinned at him and ran up to him, allowing him to lead the way. We were the only people on deck, I found that weird since this ship was so huge, but I figured Yeosang might’ve arranged it to be this way.

After getting down and in the boat, Yeosang paddled towards the shore and I leaned over and dipped my hand in the sea, yelping at how cold it was. It made Yeosang chuckle before he focused on paddling and once we got to the shore he tied the boat securely and then helped me out of it. The water felt cold against my boots and it made me run quickly towards the sand, away from the water. Yeosang shook his head at me and then caught up, watching me as I twirled around with a smile on my face. Before either one of us could say anything, Yeosang led the way again as I stuck close to him, walking further and further away from the beach until we reached cobblestone covered streets. Little cottages started showing up too and I took in the beauty and simplicity of them, different from the houses I was used to seeing in the nasty city I was forced to live in while working at the brothel. Everyone was dressed in bright colors here and despite being strangers, people greeted us with a smile on their faces. There were a few people who recognized Yeosang, but we never stopped to talk with anyone. Everyone seemed too busy with whatever they had going on. As we neared the heart of the city, the streets became crowded as people roamed around, not quite paying attention to us anymore. It was a little stressful as I had to pay extra attention to not lose sight of Yeosang, but he slowed down his steps and paid attention for me to be always by his side. I almost got lost at one point so I gripped the back of Yeosang’s tank top and he sent a smile my way before walking with purpose, headed towards a boutique.

“What are we doing here?” I asked curiously as he pushed the door open for me, then followed me inside. The place was nicely decorated and many pretty dresses were placed on display. An older lady greeted us with a big smile, eyes fixated onto Yeosang as if she knew him.

“We’re here to buy you some new clothes,” Yeosang explained before he turned his attention onto the shopkeeper, “Hello, Mrs. Yang.”

“Long time no see, my boy, how have you been?” The lady asked with a fond smile and Yeosang shrugged nonchalantly.

“Just the usual, busier than before.” The lady hummed and then turned her attention onto me, eyes twinkling.

“What a beautiful girl, finally someone has charmed Yeosang.” I blushed at the lady’s words once I realized what she was implying, but before she could say more, Yeosang cleared his throat.

“Do you have dresses in her size?” He asked with a smile.

“Of course, follow me, my dear.” She extended her hand and I hesitantly placed mine in hers, glancing back at Yeosang to see if he was still here. But he just gave me a reassuring nod and followed after us, the lady showing a multitude of dresses, making it hard to choose. At last, I settled on a lavender breezy dress, perfect for a warm day. A white floral dress and a soft pink silk like dress. However, as she stated the prices of the three dresses I realized I had no money, yet Yeosang was quick to open his pouch and offer the lady the pennies she asked for. I looked at him surprised as the lady quickly packed the dresses into a big wrapping paper, biding it together by a rope. Yeosang took the package from her and carried it for me, ushering me outside the boutique as the lady opened her mouth to say something. Once we were out he shook his head.

“She’s a very nosy person, I don’t like discussing my affairs with her.” Yeosang explained and I nodded, pointing towards a little shop I had just noticed.

“Is that a bakery?” I asked in awe and Yeosang hummed, motioning for me to lead the way. I bounced towards the bakery in excitement, having not been to one in ages. The food was extremely good on the ship, but I missed the taste of pastry. It smelled heavenly as Yeosang and I walked through the opened door, another lady greeted us with a friendly smile. She stood behind a long desk, pastries displayed on it.

“Welcome, would you like some?” She motioned towards the yummy looking food and I nodded eagerly, eyes running over the pastries.

“Do you have anything vanilla flavored?” I asked and the lady nodded, pointing at a heart shaped pastry. I gave her a smile and she motioned for me to take it, which I did, and quickly turned to face Yeosang.

“I love anything vanilla flavored!” I beamed up at him and he chuckled, looking at the lady.

“May I have then one too?” The lady nodded her head and Yeosang quickly took one too, dropping four pennies on the table for the lady. She wished us a good day and we exited the shop, standing a little to the side as I took a big bite of the pastry. The rich taste of vanilla exploded in my mouth and I hummed contently, closing my eyes as I savored the delicacy. I haven’t had something this good in ages.

“You like it?” Yeosang asked as I opened my eyes and nodded at him eagerly, happy to be eating the pastry. He took his first bite and his eyebrows raised as he looked down at his own delicacy, finishing it in mere seconds. I started laughing loudly as Yeosang’s cheeks were stuffed with the vanilla pastry, cheeks hurting from how widely I was smiling once I have calmed down. Yeosang’s cheeks flushed and he rubbed the back of his head as he chewed the food with difficulty, eyes widening when he realized it might’ve been a mistake eating it all at once.

“Have you never eaten something like this?” I asked as I took some more bites of my own pastry and Yeosang shook his head no as he wasn’t able to speak just yet. I chuckled and quietly munched on the food, waiting for Yeosang to finally speak up.

“This was my first time,” He admitted with a chuckle as he had successfully gulped down all the food he had in his mouth, “and it was amazing, thank you for recommending it. Now come, I have a surprise for you.”

“Really?” I asked wide eyed and he nodded, gently grabbing my free hand and interlacing our fingers as he started pulling me further down the market. My cheeks were burning as I lowered my eyes and stared at the cobblestones, making sure I wouldn’t trip, but also to hide my own blush. Yeosang’s steps were quick and I realized he was eager as he was grinning from ear to ear, quickly stopping when we reached our destination. I almost ran into him, but managed to stop last minute. I looked at the boutique we have stopped in front of and my eyes widened as I looked back at Yeosang in shock.

“After you, Y/N.” He didn’t have to repeat himself as I basically tumbled inside, scaring the poor man sitting in the corner on a chair. He jumped up to his feet and relaxed once he realized it were just two regular customers, but didn’t smile nor speak to us as I took in the place, mouth hanging open. It was a crafts boutique. It was littered with blank canvas and pencils and so many colors. This was a painters dream. I went and touched a canvas as I heard Yeosang approaching, stopping next to me.

“You can buy anything you want, don’t worry about the price.” I looked at Yeosang with big eyes and bowed my head slightly in gratitude before picking up the canvas and clutching it to my chest. It has always been my dream to own enough utensils to be able to make paintings. But I never thought one day that dream would become reality. I was overwhelmed by many feelings as I picked up a few colored pencils, you didn’t have a big variety to choose from, but it was more than I have ever owned. My hands weren’t big enough to hold onto so many items at once, but I refused to let Yeosang help as I showed the men what I have chosen to take back to the ship. He seemed to count in his head before he asked for ten pennies and Yeosang handed it to him without many words, nodding at him as we left the boutique. I realized I could store the pencils in the pockets of my pants and quickly stuffed them inside, hugging the blank canvas to my chest. Yeosang hid his smile as there was a bounce in my step as I followed after him, allowing him to take me wherever he wanted to. Surprisingly we stopped by a flower stand and Yeosang greeted the seller with a smile before he leaned down and picked up a freesia and brought it up to his nose, inhaling its fragrance. He handed the seller two pennies before turning towards me and handing me the flower. My eyes widened and I blushed as I quickly took it from him, thanking him shyly. Yeosang grinned as I smelled the flower, eyes widening at the familiarity of it. As our eyes connected, Yeosang had a fond look on his face.

“They are my favorite flowers.” He explained and I nodded, realizing that this whole time Yeosang smelled like freesias. A tiny voice in my head whispered that they had become my favorite flowers too, the fragrance bringing comfort and safety as it calmed my nerves and racing mind. They felt like home. Yeosang and I stared at each other for another moment before he cleared his throat and went to lead the way again, but had to pull me back, into himself, as a man raced down the street, crashing into people. Three more people chased after him and I realized they were the constable’s men. Yeosang’s face was suddenly lowered and his breath hit my neck as he hid his face, suddenly the smell of freesia stronger with Yeosang so close. For a moment I was confused, until I realized why Yeosang had done that. He was a pirate. And constables didn’t like them. He was trying to hide his identity. But when nobody seemed to notice him, he straightened up once again and mumbled an apology, asking me to follow him as he led us away from the busy street.

My day spent with Yeosang has been magical. We spent it wandering around the little city, which I learned was a village by the sea on one of the South Kingdom’s islands, close to the Irenic Sea. It was completely on the other side of where Yeosang had found me. It was a comforting thought that I was far away from where once I have lived through torture and hell. Yeosang and I bought some more pastries and then we sat down by a cliff, looking over the sea and talking about our day together. Yeosang seemed to be content, serene even, as he had laid down in the grass, staring up at the blue sky. I mirrored his actions and started seeing shapes in the clouds, pointing them out to him and giggling when he wouldn’t see what I could. We talked about anything that came into our minds and Yeosang shared stories about all the times he was clumsy when making his medicine, making me laugh when he retold failed experiments. All the worries I previously seemed to have disappeared the longer I was with Yeosang. I seemed to find nothing too worrying in his presence. He placed a blanket of safety over me and I couldn’t help but want to snuggle closer to him. He suddenly sat up and then grabbed something from his pouch, it was the book we were currently reading. I continued laying on the grass as Yeosang started reading, his deep voice warm and lively as he read a conversation out loud. I closed my eyes and allowed his voice to take me to a land I’ve never been to, finding myself smiling.

But when you are enjoying yourself, it always feels like time flies by. It was the first time I have experienced the saying. I truly wished for the day to be longer, but as the breeze calmed and the sun slowly started setting over the horizon, I knew it was time to head back. We were walking down a dirt covered path, at a crossroads towards the beach and some homey looking cottages, when Yeosang suddenly stopped as I went to walk towards the beach.

“I hope today was as beautiful as I planned it to be.” He said with a smile and I turned to look at Yeosang with a chuckle.

“Of course, it was, Yeosang. I couldn’t have asked for anything better!” I beamed up at him and he nodded happily, running his fingers through his hair.

“Good, I’m glad to hear, I also had an amazing time with you today, Y/N.” I looked away shyly.

“We should head back now.” I said quietly, avoiding Yeosang’s eyes, but his next words made me pause.

“I am heading back, you are not.” I looked at him alarmed, eyes wide as he grabbed his pouch and undid it from his belt, “There’s enough gold in here to last you for three months, Y/N. That’s enough time to find a nice house to live in and a job which pays well. You could even work at the bakery or perhaps sell flowers.”

I gulped as I looked at Yeosang, eyes falling on the pouch, “Are you saying…that I’m staying here? And you’re leaving with…Ateez?”

Yeosang nodded wordlessly and suddenly my mouth went dry as I reluctantly took the pouch when he nudged it towards me. I watched as he fidgeted with his fingers for a bit before he pulled a ring off his finger. I have noticed it a long time ago, but never gave it much attention. Yeosang stared at it longingly before handing it over to me, my palm closing around it tightly, “Keep that ring on you at all times. Wear it as a necklace so that everybody can see it. It will keep you safe, I promise.”

“A ring will keep me safe?” I mumbled as I opened my palm and looked at the ring closely. The letter A was craved inside it. Perhaps from Ateez? How could a ring keep me safe?

“It will, trust me, everyone knows about the meaning of this ring. So it will keep you away from unwanted people.” Yeosang explained further when he noticed my hesitancy.

“I don’t—I don’t want your ring, Yeosang.” I whispered as I looked at him pleadingly, “Don’t leave me behind. I—I can’t be on my own. You can keep me safe, not this ring—”

“No, trust me, it will!” Yeosang quickly exclaimed as his eyebrows furrowed, “I would never lie to you. This place is safe and pirates rarely come here. I suggested sailing here specifically to drop you off here. Y/N, please. I promise nobody will find you here. You can start your new life right here. People are welcoming and friendly. You will be safe. And you will find happiness.”

My eyebrows furrowed at Yeosang’s words and I quickly shook my head, walking up to him, feeling dread pool in my stomach. I wasn’t safe anywhere. San will always find me. Men will always be around me. They will use me. They will sell me. Yeosang was the only safe person. He was the only genuine man I have ever known.

“That’s not true, I don’t want to stay here, Yeosang.” I couldn’t even continue my argument because Yeosang sighed and started talking again.

“Just listen to me one last time, Y/N. You have to stay here—”

“No, because I—I feel like I’m about to die if you leave me alone here!” I exclaimed and my eyes widened at the confession, but my heart was racing and my mind was a mess again, “I’m scared of people if you’re not with me, Yeosang. I can’t trust anyone, no matter how hard I try. I just—my mind is full of these thoughts that are only silenced if I’m around you, Yeosang. Please don’t push me away. Don’t leave me here. I can’t—I can’t live without you. I really mean that. If you go, I might just—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Yeosang gasped out as a hand was placed on the side of my neck, holding me gently. I gulped and felt my eyes fill with tears as Yeosang looked at me alarmed, eyebrows furrowed as we gazed into each other’s eyes, “You won’t be safe on a pirate ship. You will be a wanted criminal by association. You will witness gory fights and heavily injured people often. You might become friends with someone who you might lose the next day. The life of a pirate isn’t easy, Y/N, it’s demanding. Both physically and mentally. There will be days when I won’t be able to look at you or even talk to you. I shut down sometimes, when I can’t save someone, I want to die with them. I have outbursts and sometimes struggle to remain calm. I’m not always so gentle and I can’t lose an argument, I—I can hurt you. And that’s the last thing I want to do. I could lose you and then I—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” A tear rolled down my cheek, “I will stand by your side, no matter what, Yeosang. Always. I will wait for you patiently when you need time. I hate arguing so you won’t have to win that from me. I will try and be strong, I will learn how to fight, and how to help you with healing others. I won’t allow you to spiral into guilt and self-hatred. We’ll work through everything, together.”

Yeosang sucked in a deep breath, his grip tightening on my neck. I offered him an encouraging smile and he shook his head, almost disappointed at himself, “You really want to come with me? San will be always there.”

My jaw clenched at the mention of that terrible man’s name, but I shook my head, “I don’t care where San is as long as I’m by your side, Yeosang. You’re my home now. You make me feel safe and appreciated. You listen to me and care about me. You showed me respect when nobody else did, you—you treated me like a human being when nobody else has.”

Yeosang let out a shuddered breath, sniffing as he nodded slowly, eyes boring into mine. They were filled with warmth and determination. His eyes were twinkling with a newfound purpose and I felt a smile creep up onto my lips, “Let’s go home, Y/N.”

“Let’s go home, Yeosang.” I whispered with a big smile on my face and allowed myself to act without second guessing everything as I leaned up and pressed a kiss against Yeosang’s birthmark. Both of our faces were red when I pulled away and I couldn’t help but giggle shyly as I stepped back from Yeosang’s reach and raced down towards the beach, a newfound freedom lacing through every inch of my skin.

A new chapter of my life has just begun. I was Jung Y/N, a woman who’d start the journey of her life starting from…right now.

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