⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nationâotherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.
⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15
⨰ warnings: profanity, death of minor characters, description of gore and death
⨰ wordcount: 11.1k
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â§â§Circa Peridotâ§â§
You wake up from a horrible dream.Â
Itâs the kind where youâre falling and falling and falling into a deep, dark abyss. Except, in this abyss, there is an end.Â
Thereâs an impact.Â
Your spine tingles from the shock. You look around, only to realize youâve fallen on top of dead, bloody bodies. You scream. The bodies shift underneath you as you move. Fleshy and soggy. They mold under your touch.
Fear nearly paralyzes you, but you force yourself to flee, to do something. But when you try to escape, a cold, pale hand grasps your arm. Your head jerks backâonly to see a boxy smile. Yet the boxy smile is attached to a familiar face: the Generalâs. Itâs unnatural, uncanny to see a Darlaean smile on him. Especially a smile on a person whoâs supposed to be dead.Â
You shriek, scrambling away, only to trip over a splayed limb and tumble to the ground. You come face to face with Nayoonâs dead body. Sheâs bloody and bruised, hair seared short, eyes thankfully closed. But sheâs dead, and seeing that breaks you down.
 âNo!â you scream, voice hoarse. âThis isnât real! Sheâs not dead! She was only injured!âÂ
You blink, rubbing your eyes with your soiled hands, transferring blood onto your face.Â
Nayoonâs dead body is gone, but Hana is in her place.
Her eyes are ajar, empty, cold.Â
Opening your eyes feels like a miracle today. Youâre dazed, hurt, confused when you stumble out of your tent, trying to figure out if your dream had meant anything. Or maybe it was just a plain, old nightmare. But why? Why was the General smiling like that? And why was his hand so cold? Why did he emerge from the pile of dead bodies, so adamant about preventing you from leaving? And Nayoon. Why was she dead? Why was Hana dead? So deep in your thoughts, you accidentally bump right into Doyun, nearly falling over doing so.
Doyun laughs, helping you regain your balance. âWhatâs with the long face, Y/N? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?â
Youâre just glad you bumped into her and not the General or Nayoon.
âI just had a shitty dream,â you say, feigning a smile. You havenât found the courage to tell anyone about your first dream featuring your archnemesis: the boxy smile. Itâs too real. A little too much like a memory, rather than a figment of your imagination. It gives you chills just thinking about it. And now that stupid, boxy grin wonât leave your mind.
Doyunâs face softens. She must be used to her acquaintances struggling from nightmares. Or maybe she struggles with them just the same. âWell, you should take it easy today,â she says, patting your back. She doesnât say muchâwhich feels a little out of character for herâbut maybe sheâs assessing your current state, trying to figure out what else to say. You notice that she is rather observant, but sheâs articulate when she has to be. Her hand never leaves your back. âNightmares arenât easy to deal with.â
âYeahâŚâ
She glances at you, her eyebrows furrowing a bit. âPlease donât tell me youâre thinking of doing more work today. Youâre given four days of leave, Y/N. You havenât used any of them yet.â She talks quickly before you can reply, âAnd donât give me the bullshit about how working takes your mind off of things. Youâre just running away from your problems.â
She caught you there. You were totally going to drown yourself in work to forget about that terrible dream. But maybe Doyunâs half-right.
âIâm not going to let you faint on me again,â Doyun says with a teasing grin.
Your eyes widen. âThat was different!â
âPhysically exhausted, mentally exhausted, theyâre problems that need to be tended to,â she replies. âYou know what, Officer Ryu? Iâll give you a rare order.â
âAn order, Lieutenant?â
âYes, an order.â She nods assuringly. âItâs not much, but weâre running out of aloe ointment. They only produce that in Aithne, so we were going to send a couple of healers to bring back a generous supply. But you can go instead,â she says. She laughs at your shocked face. âItâll be good for you, Y/N. The fresh air, the new sector, the journey.â She quirks one of her thick eyebrows. âYouâll enjoy it.â
Enjoy it?
A part of you wants to agree. But do you even deserve to go?
Itâs like Doyun can read your thoughts. âAnd donât even think about questioning whether you deserve the rest,â she says. âYouâve got to learn how to take care of yourself before you try to fight for a whole nation. You and Yoongi both.â She shakes her head. âJust try to relax once in a while. Itâll make a bigger difference than youâd think.â She pats your back again. âIâll be off, but remember! Relax!â
You watch her leave, dazed. The short mention of the General has your head whirling with flashes of your nightmare, the unexpected boxy smile marring his kind, soft face. Even when youâre packing to take the tripâby packing you mean hoarding gourds full of cold waterâthe boxy smile haunts you. Youâre starting to wonder if going alone on this trip to Aithne will even help. Wonât it be worse to be stuck in your thoughts like this? How in Soohtâs name are you going to enjoy this? When youâre alone, you tend to spiral down a rabbit hole of your worst thoughts. You thought that Doyun would know this. Or maybe she wants you to face your nightmare head-on.
âBut I suppose I wonât be too alone,â you say, petting Heliâs head. âIâll have you.âÂ
Heli nuzzles your hand in response; it makes you smile, yet you still have second thoughts.Â
But you shouldâve known that Doyun always thinks things through. Because the next thing you know, Zeru is galloping up next to you, bowing slightly at Heli, who acknowledges the air horseâs presence with a small huff. And riding Zeru, saddled right on top of him, is the General.
âReady to leave, Officer?â he says in his soft voice.
Your jaw goes slack. The dreamâno, the nightmare. The boxy smile. The cold hand. The bodies. It all flashes in your mind too quickly. But you manage an awkward and feeble: âSir, youâre going too?â
âWould you not want me to come?â he asks, teasingly. His gentle smile, the way his hand continuously strokes Zeruâs wispy mane as he patiently waits for your reply, his sparkling eyes⌠When you busy yourself with small details, you momentarily forget about your bad dream.
âNo! Itâsânoâitâs not that,â you say. âI just thought I was going to go alone. The Lieutenant didnât mention anything about going withâanyways! I would love to accompany you to Aithne, sir.â As awkwardly as you had said that, you meant it.
âShe mustâve conveniently left it out,â he says with a smile. âShock value, I suppose. You know Doyun and her surprises. But how did you expect to know where youâre going?â the General asks, raising his eyebrows. âDidnât you at least think youâd need a guide to show you the way?â
Youâre sheepish. âWell, I just assumed that Heli would know.â You pat the fire tiger who huffs in confirmation. âHeâs the all-knowing fire sol, isnât he?â Swinging your leg over, you settle on Heliâs back, his soft, warm fur underneath your palms. âBut I suppose you would know the way just as well, sir. Weâre visiting your homesector, after all.â
Zeru and Heli begin to wander into the forestâZeru in a light trot and Heli in a graceful gait. But they keep their paces even so that you and the General can converse.
âI have a major battle tomorrow,â the General says.
Your eyes widen. After having such a terrible morning, youâd completely forgotten that that was tomorrow. âWith the Ember Formation, sir?â
âYes, with your formation, Officer.â
Worry lines crease your forehead. âDo you think itâs okay to tire yourself out today by traveling all the way to and from Aithne? Iâd think you would need more rest than I do, sir.â
âIâll be fine,â he replies. âBesides, Iâm going home. It shouldnât be too tiring.â
You hum in response, mind already wandering off to what could be waiting for you in Aithne. If the General is the last of his bloodline⌠You imagine an old, abandoned home in the middle of the desert. Rotten cacti decorate the exterior and cobwebs embellish the doorways inside. Sand is stuck in every crevice, every corner of the place, and by the time you leave, sand is stuck in every crevice and corner of your own body. Would there be anything to tour there?
The sols have started to gallop across Alderâs grand forest, but you and the general keep on a light conversation. Itâs mostly about workâbecause thatâs all you and he really know (and can control enough to be satisfied with).
âI still canât believe the code is repeating,â you say. âThereâs something so stupid about it that it makes me think that weâre simplifying things.â
The General nods thoughtfully. âItâs a mystery for now.â
âA mystery that I hope that we can crack someday,â you say. âBut for now, weâll enjoy the wins.â
âOf course we will.â
Talking about work gets boring, however. Too repetitive and too serious. The conversation goes dry all too quickly. So, you and the General opt for silence. Itâs the comfortable, familiar kind where neither of you feels obligated to speak, but you know if you were to change your mind, someone would listen intently.
The silence makes you think of the time you traveled to Elu with the General. Back then, you hadnât even found Heli yet, so it had been just you and him on the air horse. Your mind suddenly flashes to the memory of his hand on your waist, and you sit up a little taller in embarrassment. You can still feel the ghost of his hand there.
Quickly, you steal a glance at the General. He looks straight aheadâall duty and no-nonsenseâwhich is so like him. But you admire that. Does he never have a single tangential thought? His black hair sweeps just above his sharp eyes, the strands fluttering in the wind, and when he blinks, you see it in slow motion. The light shining from between the forest trees illuminates just the tip of his nose, giving it a warm glow. You have to look away.
Instead, you busy yourself with the forest. In the summertime, the colors of nature become rich and vibrant: emerald-green patches of grass, bronze-colored trees with chocolate swirls on their bark, ruby-red berries peppered across bushes, and enchantingly pink flowers twisting their way up the roots of large trees. Sol birds are chirping away while seated on their branches, and earth mice rustle across the forest floor in tandem.Â
Once you lose yourself in the observations, itâs hard to stop looking.
Before you know it, the vastness of Alderâs woods has come to an end. You see the smooth transition from dirt floor to sand dunes. There are waves and waves of them that seem to stretch on and on forever. Even when you squint, the only thing you can see is sand. Itâs like an endless ocean.
Then thereâs the heat.
It had begun just a few minutes before you saw the end of the woods. But youâd started to sweat through your cotton uniform and had wondered if it had something to do with the overhead noon sun. Really, it had been your proximity to Aithne.
But itâs enchanting. There is something insurmountably calming about the amber sand, undulating in the heat like ocean waves. The wind has drawn parallel lines across the mounds, and when it blows a light breeze, tiny flecks of sand rustle on the ground, threatening to disrupt the design of the current. Occasionally, you catch a glimpse of small air birds flying across the sky with no clouds. In its own way, Aithne is full of life.
A lot of things about this sector are great, in fact. Except for the heat. Itâs gotten even hotter than before; youâre sweating straight through your cotton uniform. The high collar suffocates you, and even though youâre not moving, you feel drained and sluggish. Itâs like youâre cooking in a pot full of boiling water. You wonder how the sols are faring. But maybe itâs because a component of them is magicâHeli and Zeru seem unaffected by the heat.
âYou should drink some water,â you hear the General say. âThe worst thing that can happen to you here is dehydration. That and getting lost.â
You look towards him for the first time in a while, only to nearly gasp out loudâbut you save yourself from trouble by quickly turning away. Sometime in the last thirty minutes, he had shrugged off his cotton vest and the cotton tunic underneath. Now, there he sits, in a white tank topâhis tunic tied around his waist.
âYouâre going to get a sunburn,â you say, deliberately busying yourself with taking out a gourd full of cold water to ignore the heat creeping up your face. You take a long drinkâthe cold water running down your throat and pooling in your stomach. It feels so good that you finish the whole gourd.
âI thought I could put some of our new supply of aloe ointment to use,â the General says. âAnd just then,â he says with a smile, âyou looked like Captain Goe, gulping down whateverâs in that gourd.â
You give him an offended look. âIâve never been somewhere so hot.â
âThe fact that youâre wearing three layers of cotton doesnât help,â he comments. âWeâll get you a change of clothes when we reach my home.â
You wait for that very moment, fighting the urge to completely collapse on Heli and sleep so that you can take your mind off of the heat. But finally, finally, after what seemed like endless dunes of sand, you and the General reach a large estate made entirely of red mud.
The buildings are angular, with sharp edges and smooth, red walls. A small grove of cacti decorates one side of a doorless entrance, and other desert plants you canât name sprout from the other. The estate is larger than the palace, but its simple design and color help it blend in with the sand. Around the back, you catch a glimpse of rows of aloe vera plants stretching on and on; it must be where they farm. For the most part, the place looks uninhabitedâsituated in the middle of nowhere. But not in a creepy, abandoned way. Itâs just in peaceful solidarity.
âYour home,â you say.
The General nods. âMy home,â he answers.
As you slide off of Heli and the General dismounts Zeru, a short, bald man with a characteristic mustache rushes out of the entrance of one of the red mud structures.Â
âGeneral Min! General Min! Oh no! Oh no!â he says, nearly tripping over his straw sandals in the sand. He wears years and years of age on his face, carrying wrinkles on his forehead and cheeks. But heâs still got his agility. âLieutenant Kang didnât tell me you were coming too! She said she would send a couple of healersâŚâ he glances at you, his gaze settling on the two notches around the collar of your uniform. âOh, for the love of Sahn!â He drops into a deep, ninety-degree bow. âYouâve brought the officer!â
âOh, please,â you say. âItâs fine. Thereâs no need for formalities.â
âOh no,â the man says. âIf I knew you were coming sir, I wouldâve prepared your favorite dishes.â He turns to you. âIs there anything youâd like me to prepare for you to eat, Officer?â
âWoosang, itâs fine,â the General says. âWeâre here for the ointment, not for the food.â
âOh, but you havenât been home for circas and circas, General Min!â the manâWoosangâsays. âI want to treat you well. Your mother wouldâve wantedââ
âThen the least you can do is bring my officer over here a spare change of clothes,â the General quickly says. âBefore she sweats into a puddle and eventually evaporates.â
âRight away, General!â
âMy officer and I will be waiting in the aloe plantation in the back.â
While Woosang scrambles to find you some suitable clothes for the heat, you and the General walk around the large, mud structures to the grand aloe field. Already, there are jars and jars of green ointment stacked up along the side of one of the red walls.Â
âDid Woosang do this all by himself?â you ask, eyes widening. âHe doesnât live here alone, does he?â
âNo,â the General replies. âHeâs one of the heads of the Kim Clan. Theyâve been with the Min Clan for decades as live-in workers. Iâve known Woosang since I was born.â
It seems like a lonely job, to be quite honest, stuck in a hot desert in the Min Estate with no other homes to visit, families to consult. But you donât bother to say that out loudâespecially not in front of the General.Â
âHere you go, Officer,â a new face says, holding up a bundle of fabric. Itâs sand-coloredâlike everything else around here. âIâll take you someplace to change,â the worker says, her short, black hair glistening in the sunlight. âPlease, follow me.â
You glance at the General, but he nods, wordlessly encouraging you to go. So you do, following the woman into one of the mud buildings. Inside, it is surprisingly cool, albeit a little dark. The room itself is large, embellished with woven mats and vases of all kinds. But compared to the other decorations in the room, the small bed in the corner remains plain and modest. It barely looks slept in, with how neatly the covers are tucked into the sideânot a wrinkle in sight.
âThis is my room,â the woman says, glancing around as if to see if there is anything out of place. âYou can change here. Iâll get out of your hair, sir, but please donât hesitate to call me if you need me.â
She leaves before you can even ask for her name.
You thumb the beige fabricâitâs smoothâand you wonder if this is silk. The clothes easily drape over your body, loose around your figure and letting the chill air inside cool you down. While you neatly fold your Solarian uniform, your attention hones in on the intricately woven mats and shaped vases. Does she make these herself? Maybe if you were stuck in the desert in the middle of nowhere, your room would be filled with homemade mats and vases too. The decorations are beautiful, however.Â
The vases are painted a deep, mulberry red, almost like blood, but you shake that thought away. Red is the color of warmth, of loyalty, of Solaria. You can feel the passion of the ceramist, see the indents of their delicate hands against the hardened clay. The mats look as if they have been woven with the same tenderness. Itâs so much passion, so much love that youâre beginning to think that these decorations are gifts. Then, there are the stacks of letters. They are filed right between two vasesâall opened. You wonder who they could be from. But itâs also not your business to know.
You shake yourself off from the hundreds of thoughts beginning to form in your mind. Then, before you can make any more farfetched jumps to conclusions, you quickly leave the room. The heat isnât so bad now that youâre in lighter clothes, but when you catch sight of the polite woman, you suddenly feel guilty that youâd been snooping around her belongings. Well, snooping would be too strong of a word. You were only observing⌠And coming up with outrageous assumptions.
Looking at her now in the sunlight, you realize sheâs younger than you wouldâve originally guessedâsomewhere between 18 and 19. Her hair stops before her shoulders, her bangs framing her full face. Sheâs got small freckles splattered across her cheeks and forehead. Despite her young looks, however, she sounds and acts olderâalmost older than Woosang, who, despite his older looks, acts as energetic as the children in Elu.
âIâll take your uniform, sir,â she says politely.
âO-Oh, yes, thank you,â you say.
âAnd Iâll show you the way back to the plantation, now, if you donât mind, sir.â
Youâre taken aback by her formality. Even as an officer in the Solarian Army, youâre never coddled or served in any way. This feels weird. Almost wrong, even. âHow old are you, umâŚ?â
âYou can call me Jinhee, sir,â the girl says. âIâm 23.â
You had been so off. See! This is exactly why you shouldnât jump to so many conclusionsâyou can never be sure how right you are. âAnd you work for the Min Clan?â
âYes, sir. Woosang is my grandfather,â she answers. âIâve lived here since the day I was born.â
âOh.â Her answers are straight to the point, never revealing more than she has to. It doesnât satiate your curiosity. You donât know why youâre so nervous to ask more questions; you gnaw your lip, keeping your mouth shut, though youâre filled to the brim with wonder. What has made the Kim Clan begin working for the Min Clan? Are there any more people living here, in the Min Estate, in the middle of nowhere? You canât fathom having workers for yourself. Even the thought of an adult following you around everywhere to pick up after you makes you uncomfortable. Do they enjoy their job? Are they allowed to leave?
âMy younger sister is a fan of you,â Jinhee suddenly says. âSir, if it isnât too muchâI donât want to bother you at allâwill it be all right to get your signature?â
Your turn to her, eyes wide.
The girl stays still, but she quickly assesses your reaction and speaks, âIâm sorry, sir. I stepped out of line, didnât I?â
âOh, no, no,â you say, waving your hands. âI was just taken aback.â
âThat you have fans, sir?â This is the first time you see Jinhee smile.
âWell, yes,â you say. Youâve heard of Doyunâs many fans. The General has his fair share too. Nayoon gets love letters. And if Major Ki wasnât already dating Captain Chu, sheâd get marriage proposals. But never did you think that people could look up to you.
âYouâre quite the talk amongst our clan, sir,â Jinhee says.Â
You turn to her. âI am?â
âAnd now, sir, there will be even more talk when youâre gone,â she says, an intrigued look on her face. âBecause youâve accompanied the General to his home.â
Your eyes widen even more. âWhat⌠What do you mean?â
âIf General Min comes backâwhich he rarely doesâhe always comes alone,â Jinhee says with a glint in her eyes. âAnyway, sir,â she stops in her steps, gesturing toward the aloe plantation, âweâre here.â
You realize Jinheeâs other family members have begun to transport the jars of aloe ointment to the front of the estate. There are a lot of them. At least more than twelveâages ranging from 10 to 70. In the midst, you see the General packaging some more jars with the other workers. Heâs sweating, bare arms glistening in the hot sun, the ends of his dark hair wet. But he works on. You immediately feel guilty for not contributing.
When you turn to Jinhee to tell her that youâd be happy to give your signature to her sister, you realize sheâd already left. As quick as a spirit. You didnât even get the chance to ask her about the mats and vases and letters⌠Not that you wouldâve asked if you had the time, anyway. It seems like personal matters. And besides, why would you pry so much about the history of someone youâd just met?
Still, Jinhee had left an impact on you in that short time frame. He always comes alone, her words echo in your head. Today had been different, however. He needed rest, and you happened to need it too. Itâs just a coincidence, nothing more. You shake all the thoughts off.
âSir! You started without me!â you say, rushing up to the General.
He looks up. âDonât you know, Officer? The war stops for no one.â When you give him a distasteful look (of course as a joke), he smiles a little. Then, his eyes quickly drop down to take a glance (or a lasting linger) at your change of outfitâand he tries to be smooth with itâbut youâre observant and you catch his eye. He looks away, clearing his throat. âIs it much cooler, now?â
âYes, very,â you say. âI met Jinhee, by the way.â
He nods. âIâve seen her and her younger sisters grow up.â
âOh! Sisters! I thought she only had one.â
âSheâs the oldest of three,â he answers. âThe others are in Elu.â
So maybe the letters are from them! And maybe the vases and mats are their gifts, too. Your eyes light up with the possible answers to your questions. The General notices, however, and gives you an inquisitive look. A little embarrassed, you squeak out a small, âI seeâŚâ Itâs the best you can do to ward off any questions, and the General doesnât seem to make much of it. He just nods and goes back to work.
You let the silence intervene. Itâs comfortable that way, anyway. You and the General work across from each other, transferring the gooey, transparent yet light greenish substance into the jars, wiping the excess off the sides, clicking the lids on. The process is menial and repetitive compared to the fast-paced work you and the General often subject yourselves to. But itâs comforting. Comforting to have such a familiar presence next to you as you do such a low-stakes job. One wrong move wonât take the lives of hundreds. One wrong move wonât break apart families, tear apart friendships and relationships alike. It makes you feel safe.
You steal glances at him from time to time, watching him flexing his arms to pour the ointment into the jars from a heavy urn. And he steals glances at you, noting the way your brows crease from your concentration, your lips slightly parting as well.
And after a few hours, itâs over.
The Kims invite you and the General for lunch. They serve heaps of delicious dishesârivaling what youâve eaten in Eluâand you become surrounded by joyous chatter. There are fourteen sitting at the table in totalâexcluding you and the Generalâthe younger ones giggling and play-fighting each other while the older ones fall into other conversations.Â
You and the General sit side by side. He barely eats, mostly watching the Kim familyâs interactions with a strange (maybe nostalgic) look on his face. You wonder what heâs thinking.
âSo!â a happy voice echoes from across the table. âHowâs Yoongi been treating you, Y/N?â You look up to see a slim-faced, kind-eyed woman who shares a shocking physical resemblance to Jinhee from earlier. Next to her, Jinhee grimaces. But it feels good to have someone finally address you by your name, and itâs even more shocking to hear her address the General by his.
âAnswer wisely,â the General says, crossing his arms over his chest in amusement.
âO-Oh,â you say, not sure if you like being put on the spot like this. âVery well,â you say. âHeâs respectful of everyone.â
âReally?â the kind-eyed woman gasps. âThatâs a very politically correct answer, dear,â she says. âTell us, how does he really treat you?â
The General snorts. âYouâre acting as if Iâm not here, Sohee.â
âI just want some gossip,â she answers unabashedly.
âNo, really,â you say, shaking your head. âHeâs a very good General.â
âHeâs never done a single thing that bothered you?â She raises her eyebrows.
âNothing horrible,â you say. âBelieve me, Iâm very lucky to be under his guide.â
âAh-ha!â the woman says. âSo he has done something!âÂ
Thatâs not quite the takeaway you wanted her to have from your words, and with the unexpectedness of her accusation of the General, you stutter a bit with your next few words. âW-Well, it was nothing bad,â you say.
âOh, pumpkin, I promise I wonât discipline him too hard,â she laughs. âOut with it! Letâs hear some interesting news!â
âIt really wasnât a big deal,â you say. Why is the room feeling so stuffy all of a sudden?
âIâm just as curious as Sohee is,â the General says, crossing his arms over his chest. âWhat could I have possibly done, Officer?â
Sohee gasps. âYouâre not even on a first-name basis, yet! You and Doyun are, arenât you?â She shakes her head, âYou havenât been treating Y/N right, Yoongi. You just havenât.â
âNow, letâs not make assumptions,â the General says, but his eyes are sparkling, which means heâs more amused than offended. Is this a good sign for you to actually say whatâs on your mind? Or do you be âpolitically correctâ until the very end?
But the thing about being politically correct is that in the end, youâll feel better about yourself, but everyone around you will feel like youâre evading the question. And youâd always rather be the less comfortable one for the sake of others. But then again, if you do tell the truth, wonât the General feel uncomfortable? Wouldnât you be throwing him under the rug? Or would he understand? Is Sohee going to lose her patience with you? And why do you care so much about a small social interaction?
Your head feels like it is going to burst.Â
With both the General and Soheeâand practically everyone elseâlooking at you expectantly, you know you have to say something. And the first thing that comes out of your mouth is, unsugar-coated and all, âIt really isnât so bad. He just ripped my stitches, thatâs all.â
When you hear that collective gasp resounding around the amber-lit room, followed by a painstaking silence, you know you fucked up. Now youâre very much regretting your choice of anecdote. You couldnât have told a white lie? Couldnât have gone with something milder? That he snores (how the hell would you know that)? Or he chews with his mouth open (he doesnât, youâd know). Or heâs so kind and attuned to your needs that sometimes, youâre not sure how to pay him back for his generosity (this one, however, is true). But no, you went with the fact that he ripped your stitches, which is the truth, but definitely not the happy-go-lucky truth that Sohee was fishing around for.
The silence is deafening, and the fact that no one can play this off as a joke is worrisome. Should you say something? Clear up the situation?
Instead, Woosang is the first to speak. Heâs thumbing his mustache, face completely white. âOh no, sirâŚâ he whispers. âDid you really do that?â
Everyoneâs eyes shift to the General.
He nods, not a lick of emotion on his face. âYes. I did.â
Even stoic Jinhee looks a little concerned.
âIt was an accident,â you intervene before the General has to explain himself. You owe it to him to fix this, now. âIâd just lost my memories. I didnât know who he was when I woke up, and I suppose, embarrassingly enough, things got a little hideous. Who wouldâve thought that Iâd suspect the General of all people? The little scuffle led to a minor injury on my part,â you say. âIt wasnât really the Generalâs fault. He was only getting me to stop flailing my arms.â
âThe General this, the General that,â Sohee laughs, and instantly, her laughter melts away the tense atmosphere. The warmth, the buoyancy are back, and people begin chuckling at your faux anecdote. âYou too are so interesting,â she says. âSo formal! Youâd think if Yoongi brought you home, you two would be more like two peas in a pod! But itâs so strictly business. Youâre not even like this with Doyun, Yoongi!â
âAuntie,â one of the younger children calls to Sohee from his side of the table. âWhy did she lose her memories?â He looks straight at you. âDo you have amenity?â
The adults around him coo at his innocent question. âItâs amnesia,â Jinhee tells the younger child. âAnd letâs not get too into that.â
Youâre thankful for her answer. Youâre not sure how festive your whole âwaking up in Solaria with zero recollection of who you were in the pastâ story would be at a family dinner.Â
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the General staring at you inquisitively. Probably wondering why youâd just fibbed right out of your ass. But this is for the better! Why get into the specifics when all youâll do is cause worry?
Unfortunately, Sohee notices the look you exchange with the General, and you get a sense that she doesnât quite buy your lie. But all she does is swiftly change the topic. âJokes aside, pumpkin,â she says, turning to you, âIâm glad that youâve been keeping Yoongi company. He just hasnât been writing as much as before! I imagine the two of you are very close. How lucky he is to have such an esteemed officer accompany him everywhere!â
âOh, Iâm not that esteemed,â you say, waving your hands.Â
She ignores your feeble attempt at humility. âWeâre all very glad that youâre here, Y/N. Oh. And you too, of course, dear Yoongi. Jinheeâs sisters are supposed to visit in a few days. Itâs a pity youâre going to be missing them. They always have so many stories to tell from their endeavors! Oh! I almost forgot! My siblings should be coming back from their errands by the end of this day, but I donât think youâll stay by then? Youâre busy people, arenât you?â
âWeâll have to see, Sohee,â the General says.
âAlways so enigmatic,â Sohee chuckles. âAnyways! Jinhee! Did you hear any updates from Sunhee? Iâve been telling her to practice her air wielding, but that girl! I never know if sheâs listening to me. Sheâs never grateful, I swear.â
âShe sent me an air hawk yesterday,â Jinhee says, shrugging. âAnd another vase wrapped in one of those mats again. Is that enough proof?â
Your eyes light up. So it had been her sister sending her the decorations!
âShe didnât send a letter with the hawk?â
Jinhee shakes her head.
âThat girl!â
âShe must be busy with her apprenticeship, Mom.â
âToo busy to contact her mother??? She never sends letters! Neither does her sister! I raised them and fed them and changed their soiled diapers, and they canât even repay me with a single message? Jinhee, you are my only good child.â
âOh, Mom. I think their mats and vases are their way of telling us how theyâre doing,â Jinhee says.
âNonsense! How am I supposed to interpret them? Language exists for a reason! Besides, there are only so many mats and vases thatâll fit in your room, Jinhee.â
It makes you wonder⌠If her sisters hadnât sent those letters, who had? But youâre not given another second to contemplate because further down, the younger children are growing cacti on the table, cheering each other on as another green, spiky head sprouts from the wooden surface. Unfortunately, the grownups donât notice until the seventh cactus, and Woosang yells a characteristic âOh no!â The children point their fingers in different directions, blaming each other.
The older members of the family are quietly spooning their porridge into their mouths, watching all the drama unfold. But their faces are kind and relaxed, and you canât help but think that this kind of fiasco happens oftenâif not every day. Itâs so lively here.Â
It doesnât even look like the Kim Clan has time to be lonely, living in the middle of nowhere. It seems that they keep each other company very well.Â
As your eyes gloss over and your thoughts take over your mind, you begin to wonder what it would be like to be a part of a family. You think about the day-to-day experiences: being scolded by your mother, being placated by your father, being laughed at by the older adults, being admired by the younger children⌠Waiting for gifts and letters from family members whoâve left the nest⌠Watching the children grow right before your very eyes⌠Having people by you who can tell you how much youâve grown and flourished over the years⌠You wonder what it would be like to know the people related to you by blood. And you wonder if youâll ever meet them again.
So immersed in your own thoughts, you donât even notice the General had quietly left his seat.Â
He traces the smooth, mud walls with the pads of his finger. Then, he lifts them up to his face to examine them. Not a single speck of dust. Everything looks the way he last remembers it. The Kim Clanâthanks to Woosangâs cleaning habitsâkeeps good care of the home he grew up in.
Itâs like a trance, the way he walks through the corridors, not knowing where heâs going but following wherever his feet take him. When he stops in front of his parentsâ bedroom, he wonders why, out of all the rooms in this vast home, he decided to come here first. He hesitates outside the closed curtains. Thereâs a hot breeze from the roomâs window that flutters the edges of the drapes, and he watches the fabric crimple, floating with the wind. Itâs like itâs beckoning him. With a deep breath, he walks into the room, gently parting the curtains to do so.Â
When he was younger, he hated this room. This was where he was scolded, disciplined, where he cried, sobbed, repented on his knees. But itâs so empty now.
Yoongi looks around. Itâs exactly how it looked like when he was a kid. There is a large bed in the middle of the room, nearby the window. The sheets are snow white. He sits down on it, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees. His mother had stopped using this room ever since his father passed. In fact, even he hasnât come into this room in years. He doesnât know why he wanted to revisit it all of a sudden.
He stares at a single corner. That had been his time-out spot. He was forced to stand there for hours, hands raised, knees scathing the ground, ashamed of not being good enough for his mother. His tears had stained his face, dried up his skin. His legs had been numb from carrying the weight of his body. His arms had ached for days after.Â
âYou are not just good enough; you are an embarrassment to the clan!â
He remembers every single word spoken. Every single punishment.
âLook at your sister, look at your brother! They are dutiful and focused, Yoongi. Most importantly, they are fire mediums. They do not waste their time with the other elements as you do.â
Heâd always cry during these times. He doesnât know why. The tears would just come, and they wouldnât stop.
âI am doing this for your own good, Son. If I donât scold you and put your head straight back on your shoulders, then who will? We have a war to fight in, an army to lead. This is not a light task, Son. Just know that Iâm doing this for you.â
Yoongi wants to laugh dryly at the memories but no sound comes out of his mouth. He sits up with a sigh.
Maybe this wasnât the best room to visit.Â
He ambles over to his sisterâs room, where he has less trouble barging in. Heâd done it a lot when he was younger.
His sisterâs room looks just the same too. He needs to remember to thank the Kim Clan for taking such good care of his home. Her 30 desert plants still decorate the parameters, flourishing despite their owner being dead for years. Woosang must be watering them from time to timeâheâs always had a knack for plants. But then again, donât all earth mediums? In this room, he can crack a small smile. His sister had been so diligent, working to someday take the place of his mother as the General of the Solarian Army, all the while helping out with the aloe farm. Sheâd always liked plants. She wouldâve been an earth medium too if it werenât for his motherâs disapproval. Yoongi stares at the room for a bit longer then swiftly vacates it; itâs best to leave early before he starts feeling sorrow.
He ignores his roomâa small, drab space heâd been imprisoned in his younger yearsâand quickly crosses to stand in front of a room with blood-red curtains. He stares. His feet freeze in place, and he is unable to enter.
He watches the curtains flutter, the sunlight delineating the soft shapes of objects in his brotherâs room. But no matter how hard he tries to part the curtains and walk through the door frame, he canât. His eyes shut, hands closing into tight fists. He canât bear the memories.Â
âSir?â
His eyes open immediately.
Itâs you.
You must have noticed he was gone, and youâve come to find him.
âAre the curtains glued shut, sir?â you say, approaching him with a grin on your face.
He wants to joke back, but all he can manage is a shake of his head.Â
He catches a hint of recognition on your face. Your grin softens into a kind smile. âWell, we were missing you at lunch, so I decided to come find you. Jinhee set up some shade outside the oasis. I was thinking we couldâŚ?â
âAh, yes, the desert oasis,â he hastily says, enjoying the change of topic. Anything to make him forget. âShall we?â
The way he says it, it almost makes you want to link arms with him and stroll down the estate side by side. But alas, the General does not offer his arm to you, which doesnât come as much of a surpriseâit had been a stupid in-the-moment fantasy, anyway. Instead, he quickly walks away from the corridor, expecting you to catch up to him. You do, but with curiosity brimming inside of you.
Whose room was he standing in front of? And why did he look so guilty when you called out to him? How much do you really know about the General?
The two of you reach the oasis in the Min Estateâs backyard in record time thanks to the Generalâs speed-walking. Jinhee had set up a straw canopy to the side, and you and the General settle down on the plush cushions and the decorative mat sheâd provided.Â
The water shimmers, silvery waves of the heat haze lifting from the soft currents of the water and soaring into the sky. You pull your knees up to your chest, resting your head on your arms. The warmth makes it hard to think too much, which is nice for once. You focus on what you see in front of you: the sparkling oasis, the sand, the mud, the GeneralâŚÂ
Itâs a serene sight. And Doyun was right. Itâs nice to relax every now and then.Â
Right next to you, Yoongi leans back, eyes closing automatically. From underneath his eyelids, he can feel the amber glow of the sun. He feels the desert breeze tousling his hair, playing with his bangs. He can even feel your presence, and for once, you look so completely relaxed that you donât seem to be overthinking.Â
Heâs glad he brought you here. Itâs been a while since heâd come home, and itâs been even longer since he brought someone with him. But he feels less empty inside like this. Coming here with you helps.Â
âThank you, Officer,â he says.
You turn to him, eyes wide. âFor what, sir?â
âFor saving my assââ he pauses ââbut also getting me in trouble in the first place.â
You laugh, though a little nervously. âI donât know why I said that,â you say. âI shouldnât have. I shouldâve lied about something. Anything, really. I was just put on the spot⌠And everyone was staring⌠I really have no hard feelings, sir. That you ripped my stitches, that is.â
A small smile slips onto his lips. âAnd Iâll apologize again for it. I shouldnât have been so rash. If you told them the true story, Sohee wouldâve had my head on a stick.â
You laugh at that, and itâs a nice laugh too. He canât help but want to hear it again.
âItâs all in the past now,â you say. âIn fact, so much has been in the past for meâŚâ You shrug. âWere you inspecting your home for any changes, sir?â
He realizes youâre changing the topic, possibly asking him what he was doing alone in the corridors of his own house. Heâs not sure how to say everything without ruining the moment, so he opts for a simple, âYes, I was, Officer.â
âAhâŚâ
Some silence.
Then:
âCan I ask you something else, sir?â
He looks to the side, cocking his head. What could you be curious about now? Surely not something serious in this heat. Regardless, he could never deny you an answer: âYes, Officer?â
âIâve been thinkingâŚâ
âWhen do you ever not?â Can nothing slow down your quick mind? Not even the heat can dull your natural inquisitiveness.
You smile. âItâs a thought that Iâve had for a while, actually.â
âAnd youâve been thinking about it all this time? I thought we were enjoying the view,â he says, teasingly.
âOh, no, I promise I was enjoying the view,â you say. âI blinked and the thought just came to me.â Which isnât a lie, either. âI hope itâs not too much of a burden to ask.â
âAsk away.â
âI know itâs something that has passed a long time ago, but itâs just thatâŚâ you sigh. âI feel like, at this point, I want some answers.â
âAnd Iâll see if I can give them to you.â
He looks so relaxed, so calm. You wonder if your question will make him tense up. Will it ruin the serene atmosphere? Should you keep work out of this? But he really does look like he wants to helpâŚ
You swallow. âDo you know who voted for and against me joining the officer meetings?â
Yoongi raises his eyebrows. Has that bothered you so much all this time? He imagines you losing sleep over it, wondering if everyone in the central tent secretly hates you, waiting for your downfallâthough he would never believe any of his officers would wish that upon someone else. But he still needs to clarify; heâs not sure if you really want to know the answer. âYou want to know who voted for and against you?â
âYes.â
âAnd why would you want to know that?â Arenât you afraid of the answer?
âIâm just curious, thatâs all.â
He sighs. âYou and your curiosity.â Itâs honestly your persistence, too. He knows you will keep him here until he answers. And though he wouldnât really mind that at all, he doesnât want to keep you waiting, either.
âYou donât have to answer,â you say, but just to be polite. You secretly wish you hadnât given him that option, even if itâs essentially the right thing to do. And you hate that youâre even contemplating your selfish needs over being polite.
âIf you have to know, I voted for you,â the General says quietly.
You laugh, cocking your head curiously at him. âYouâre the one who broke the tie. Of course I know that much.â
âDoyun voted for you too.â
As expected, but you donât say anything, nodding instead.
âMost of the majors did.â
âMost?â
âAll except Major Ahn.â
Your eyebrows raise. Immediately, youâre mentally recounting all the moments youâve spent with Major Ahn. All the private conversations youâve had. All of your interactions.
âHe takes a while to warm up to new people,â the General says. âBut heâs a large supporter of you now, you know.â
You nod, letting the Generalâs words sink in. But of course. What the officers originally voted for doesnât necessarily have to align with their opinion of you now. And you asked for this, so thereâs no reason to suddenly back out. You know most of them well enough now to not hold lasting grudges over their first impressions of you.
âWho else voted against me?â you ask in a voice barely above a whisper.
You watch the skin on his forehead wrinkle as he hesitates to give you an answer. Then: âMost of the captains.â
âMost?â
âYes,â he answers. âCaptain Chang, Captain Sim, Captain Kim, Captain Chu, Captain Goe, Captain Moon and Captain Yang,â he says, listing them off. âThey voted against you.â
Your eyes widen. Thereâs a name missing from that list. âDoes that mean Captain Yoo voted for me?â
âIs that surprising to you?â The General turns to you, an amused look on his face.
âI just always thought he hated meâŚâ
âCaptain Yoo is an interesting character,â the General says. âHe may not like you, but heâll work with you. He mustâve acknowledged that a talent like yours is hard to come by.â
You shake your head, a small smile on your face. âWell, Iâm glad to know.â
âTheir opinions of you have largely changed,â Yoongi says. âI donât want you to worry.â It comes out a lot more gentle than heâd rehearsed in his head, which is weird because he, for some reason, always wants to be gentle with you. In fact, you inspire him to be gentle with everyone, because everyone deserves at least one person in their life who can show them unconditional kindness and care. Itâs something that his family never really gave himâsomething that heâs learned through the friends heâs made in the army. And now heâs learning to give back.
His mother and younger brother would never approve of the way the Kim Clan treats him nowâas mutuals on the same level, eating together at the same table, walking side by side like old friends. Heâs tried to shake Woosangâs old habits off, but the man is stubborn, and some of his habits have translated directly to his granddaughter. Jinhee reminds Yoongi of his older sisterâalways so dutiful, so serious, always willing to helpâeven if it means sacrificing her own life. Sheâs never left Aithneâsolely on the basis of serving the Min Clan (or whatâs left of it, anyway). But because she stays, it allows her two sisters to go off and do what they want to, go off to pursue what they want out of life. They get a choice, which is something that the Kim Clan never got too much of, back when his family was still alive.Â
 But Yoongi hates the notion of being above everyone else. Because sometimesâno, most timesâhe feels unworthy of veneration. In his home, he wants to be stripped from his title. He just wants to be Yoongi. But if him being Yoongi puts Woosang and Jinhee at unease, then heâll be the General for them. If itâll make them feel better, heâll do whatever they need.
And maybe thatâs due to years and years of attempting to please his mother. Maybe itâs years and years of attempting to be the General of the Solarian Army when he never really deserved it. Maybe itâs years and years of being terrified of letting his majors and captains and soldiers down because heâs a giant phony.
But with you, he never feels like heâs a fake. With you, he feels safe.
You care about othersâeven if youâve just met them. He saw you slip your autograph to Jinheeâno doubt for her sisters. And he sees how you treat the others of the Kim Clan. He sees how you treat the other officers, the soldiers, the healers. Who wouldnât feel safe with you?
How do you do it? How do you so effortlessly care for everybody? How do you make everybody your friend? Even a blade of grass would have nothing but kind things to say about you. As does he.
He watches you, a strange feeling building up in his chest. The desert breeze is gentle, smoothing back your hair and softly kissing your cheeks. He gets the sudden urge to be closer to you. But if he moves, heâll ruin everything. So he stays, looking at you like youâre an oasis and heâs someone lost in the desert.
You can feel him watching you. But heâs probably just thinking. Itâs what you and the General do. Because even if the General often jokes that you overthink, he does it just as often as you do. Hm⌠How hypocritical. But you could never put that against him. Because something inside you knows that what the General has shown you so far is not even half of who he really is and what heâs really been through. How can you judge him when you donât know the full story?
But then again, you have already judged him. You like him. Thereâs a strange, heavy feeling in your stomach. That has to mean something, right? The feeling of wanting, the feeling that you need to be close to him. You like him. Maybe not like, like him. But if you were to ever lose your memory again, youâd want to get it back just to remember him. Because he makes you feel safe.Â
So why was he in your nightmare? Did the dream mean anything other than the fact that youâre terrified of Darlaeans and the grinning man who seemed to recognize you? Youâre terrified of the death of your friends. Youâre terrified of the abyss. But the General? Why was he grinning at you?
Or maybe it was just a stupid dream. A dream with little to no meaning. Not everything has to have a meaning, right?âas much as admitting that breaks your heart.
âWould it be rude if I asked you what you are thinking?â
His voice is soft, husky. You blink, your gaze focusing on the General. His dark bangs sweep just across his brows, his lips pink, albeit a little dry, and his eyes sparkle with curiosity. How can you deny him? But also, how would you explain to him that your nightmare includes him?
âIt wouldnât be rude,â you say. âI was just thinking about my dream today.â
âAh,â he says. âDo you dream often?â
âYes, I do,â you admit, âbut theyâre usually abstract and nonsensical.â What you really mean to say is that they donât usually interfere with your daytime whereabouts.Â
âBut today it wasnât?â the General asks quietly.
âItâs not a big deal,â you say with a small smile. âIt was just a little nightmare, thatâs all.â
The General nods solemnly. âI understand.â He doesnât push you to elaborate, doesnât even ask for you to explain. But youâre glad that he doesnât. You donât know how you wouldâve fibbed your way outânot in front of him.Â
âDo you have nightmares?â you ask the General. Surely he must for him to understand that you donât want to talk about it.Â
But he shakes his head. âI donât dream,â he replies.
âDo you wish you did?â
âNo,â he says. âWhy would I want to be awake in my subconscious when I am trying to sleep?â He pauses. âNot that I get any in the first place.â
You smile at his joke. âYouâre right. You need the rest.â
âWhat about you?â he asks. âDo you wish you didnât dream?â
Itâs actually a question that youâre not sure how to answer. Your dreams are often exciting, exhilaratingâyouâre soaring in the air like an air hawk or youâre swimming in a deep lake along with the fish. You love waking up and recounting the fantastical details and then wishing that youâre relocated to that same dreamy place the next time you sleep. But other times, your dreams are terrifying. Sometimes a little too real. Like today.
âI donât know,â you finally say. âI love having dreams⌠Anythingâs possible in them, you know? I can do what I canât in real life, I can try things that Iâd probably never be able to do, and Iâm essentially free from all constraints that come with living in reality. But I donât know⌠Dreams can be so⌠odd.â
He nods. âI know what you mean.â
You cock your head at him but decide itâs better not to pry.
And meanwhile, Yoongi canât help but dive deep into his memoriesâthe memories heâd buried away for good reason.
âI had the best dream, Brother!â
âThe one where youâre the General of the Army?â heâd said, teasingly. âItâs gonna be a long time before you become the General.â Heâd messed with Yoonsooâs hair. âYouâll earn that title after I die.â
Yoonsoo had huffed. âYou donât know that. Mother says that Iâm almost as good as you now.â
âDid she?â Yoongi had spooned some porridge in his mouth, so nonchalantly, not finding his younger brotherâs words threatening at all.
âI heard her say that too.â
âSister!â Yoonsoo had said. âYou never eat breakfast with us!â
âI apologize,â sheâd said with a tight smile as she sat down next to Yoonsoo, across from Yoongi.
But she and Yoongi both knew that she was too busy to ever take part in these trivial conversations. Their mother had her in a tight grip, for she was next in line to be the General of the Solarian Army. Sometimes, Yoongi wondered how she dealt with that pressure.
âI canât believe Mother let you go from practice!â Yoonsoo had said. âDo you want to hear about my dream, Sister? I was just about to tell Brother!â
At the time, Yoongi thought she would refuse. They were merely visiting their home in Aithne to bring back supplies to the camp; his sister, of all people, would not want to waste her time dilly-dallying and listening to dreams.
But to his surprise, sheâd nodded. âSure, Yoonsoo.â
âIt was marvelous!â Yoonsoo had said, jutting out his chest and splaying out his arms dramatically. âI had on the uniform with the gold emblem at the front! The one that Mother wears! I looked older too. Even more handsome than you, Brother! I was as tall as Father and as charismatic as Sister. Wait, no! I was taller than Father and more charismatic than Sister!â
Yoongiâs sister had laughed at that. âIâm not that charismatic,â sheâd said. But she was the most charismatic person Yoongi has ever seen in his life. When she spoke, the wind quieted down to listen.
âOh but you are,â Yoonsoo had argued. âI was eating green grapes, lounging in Motherâs seat in her private tent! Except it wasnât her tent anymore, it was mine!â
âGreen grapes,â his sister had said. âThat means wealth and prosperity, Yoonsoo,â she said. âMay happiness come your way.â
âReally???â
âThatâs enough.â
Everyone in the room had frozen. And in walked Yoongiâs mother, the General of the Army.
âYoojin, what did I tell you about talking to your brothers?â
Yoongiâs sister stayed silent.
âYouâre going to be the next General. Arenât you already my lieutenant? This frivolous behavior must come to an end, Yoojin. Please, focus. Donât put our familyâs name into flames.â Sheâd barely glanced at Yoongi and Yoonsoo before saying, âHow disappointing.â Then, sheâd left.
Yoongiâs sister had given her younger brothers an apologetic look, but she didnât say anything else before quickly following after her mother.
Yoongi and Yoonsoo were left in silence. Before Yoonsoo had spoken.
âIâll show her,â heâd said. âIâll show her one day.â
Yoongi never thought that Yoonsooâs dreams would ever come true. But itâs funny how a mere dream could turn into a reality.
The ride back home is quiet. Peaceful.
Though you wanted to stay with the General a little bit longer, watching the oasis shimmer in the sunlight, the workload you left back at camp was calling to you. And you didnât have to ask the General to know that his work was calling to him too.
So the two of you left with the large supply of aloe ointment. You noticed that the General never looked backânot even once.
And now that youâve finally reached the camp, you donât know what to do with yourself. There are healers who come to greet you and relocate the ointment to some storage. You slide off of Heliâs back, scratching his ear as a thanks for his hard work today. The General does the same, petting Zeru before the horse lets out a soft neigh and gallops into the forest.
Heli is reluctant to leave, nuzzling your side as you stand awkwardly next to the General. Itâs always so weird to part with him. Is it because you donât want to? Or is it because you and he are awkward by nature? Maybe itâs even both.
âItâs late, isnât it, Officer?â the General says. âI didnât mean to keep you out this long.â
âItâs okay, sir,â you say. âI had a nice time.â
Another bit of silence. Heli paws at you. âI think he wants you to go to bed,â the General says with a smile. Itâs illuminated by the soft light radiating from the fire tigerâs flames. âIâll leave you to it, then. Good night, Officer.â
âSir?â you say.
âYes?â
âDonât stay up too late, sir,â you say. âYou have a battle tomorrow.â You donât know what possessed you to say something so boldâand to the General of the Army!
His eyebrows raise. âIâll try,â he answers. âBut you would do well to follow your own advice, Officer.â
You smile. âIâll try too, sir.â
It doesnât feel too bad to part like this.Â
And as the two of you begin to walk away from each other, Yoongi pauses to look back, watching you retire for the night.
Thereâs a letter waiting for you outside your tentâfrom Hana. Excited, you quickly settle down on the grass, snuggled up with Heli, and open it. Inside is Hanaâs usual bright, cheery, exclamation-filled writing:
HELLO MY FRIEND!!!
NOT ONLY HAVE I FIGURED OUT EXCLAMATION MARKS, BUT ALSO I HAVE RECENTLY REALIZED THAT WRITING IN CAPITAL LETTERS CAN ALSO RELAY MY EXCITEMENT AND ENTHUSIASM TO YOU! SO HERE IS A LETTER WHERE I AM ETERNALLY SCREAMING!!!
HOW EXCITING THAT YOUâRE COMING UP WITH ALL THESE COOL FORMATIONS FOR THE SECTORS! IâM SO JEALOUS OF THE SOLDIERS THERE. I WISH I COULD FOLLOW YOUR ORDERS, MY DEAR OFFICER! BUT HERE I AM AT HOME, GIVING OUT MY OWN.
IâM MAKING PROGRESS WITH MY SPEECH, BY THE WAY. WELL, IâM HAVING A LITTLE TROUBLE WITH THE VOWELS, BUT IâM GETTING THE CONSONANTS DOWN! AND THERE ARE MORE CONSONANTS THAN THERE ARE VOWELS, SO IâD SAY THIS IS A PRETTY FUCKING GREAT ACCOMPLISHMENT.
OH! YOU SHOULD SEE HOW FAST I CAN WALK NOW. TAEHOON CARVED ME A WOODEN PROSTHETIC LEG! IT TOOK HIM TWO WEEKS, AND HE FORBID ME TO TELL YOU ABOUT IT EARLIER BECAUSE HE WAS SCARED IT WOULD FAIL. IT DID NOT! SO IâM WALKING AROUND JUST FINE NOW! MAYBE IâLL LEARN HOW TO RUN SOON. TAEHOON SAYS HEâLL RACE WITH ME ONCE I GET THE HANG OF IT. HE BETTER NOT GO EASY ON ME! I WANT TO WIN BECAUSE IâM GOOD, NOT BECAUSE I WAS ALLOWED TO WIN!
WEâVE ALSO BEEN talking about having a family. (Sorry!! My hand got tired of writing all these capital letters!) And I confess that the idea sounds really niceâI mean, to be a mother! Wow! But that would mean Iâd at least have to sacrifice a part of the time Iâd be spending in the army. I donât know if Iâm ready to do that. You know itâs always been my dream to become an officer. But itâs also my dream to be a parent. But I donât think I can handle both. Taehoonâs been really understanding. Heâs already building a home just for the two of us! Iâm so excited to live with him, Y/N! But itâs my dream to come back to camp. I havenât told my family or Taehoon this, though. Theyâd probably oppose it. But I swear! Iâm coming back!
Anyways! I miss you! Youâre amazing! Iâm so proud of you! Write back soon!
LOVE, LOVE LOVE,
HANA
⨰⨰⨰
You set down Hanaâs letter, staring blankly into the nighttime darkness. Youâre glad that sheâs doing well and that sheâs happy. But youâll want to address her internal dilemma in your next letter to her. To be a mother or to fight for your nation? Such interesting, opposing dreams. It almost makes you realize how strange your life has become. Youâre eating, breathing, sleeping, spending every waking moment for the war. This is your only goal. To see the end of the war. But others have other reasons to liveâwhether it may be for their partners, their family, their future aspirations⌠You wonder how they manage to make a balance in their lives, and you wonder if they ever get tired of it.
You hate to admit it, but even you feel tired attending meeting after meeting, reading file after file, writing plan after plan. Sometimes, you feel like your only reprieve is when you sleep. Because thatâs the only time when youâre not overthinkingâthe you in your dreams doesnât have that many thoughts.Â
Even now, there are too many things in your head, and youâre a little too tired to write back to Hana. Maybe in the morning, when your thoughts have settled down, you can write your response. You kiss Heli goodnight. He stands guard by your tent as usual as you climb into your futon, tucking yourself in.
That night, you have a dreamless slumber. And when you wake up, you feel almost empty, a little disappointed. You realize that you do know the answer to the Generalâs questionâthe one heâd asked you the day before.Â
Of course you want to dream.
How else do you escape reality?
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⨰ a/n: i recently moved into my new apartment so things have been SO hectic! while i'm adjusting to #adultlife, i've still been able to find time to work on lod. i hope you enjoyed this chapter (did you like the oc x general's interactions?? đ) and who could those letters be from đ
please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!
⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nationâotherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.
⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15
⨰ warnings: profanity, death of minor characters, mentions of blood, severe injuries
⨰ wordcount: 5.6k
⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)
⨰ a/n: thank you so much @the-berry-named-ari! for reading this through and fixing all my silly mistakes <3
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â§â§Circa Emeraldâ§â§
The General is silent.
Time ticks by and with each passing second, you feel more and more anxious. You begin to gnaw on your lip, chewing on the cracked skin, drawing and tasting blood.Â
You expect the General to blow. Or maybe heâll scoff and say, âI knew it.â Or what if he laughs at you? What if he doesnât take you seriously? What if he tells you that your mind is playing tricks on you? And what if heâs right? Do you really know what you saw? But no⌠Youâre so sure. Why would you make up that illusion in your head? How would you?
Before you can doubt yourself even more, the General speaks.Â
âHe recognized you?â he says, oddly calm. âHow so?â
You chew on your lip some more before answering, âHe grinned at me.â
The General stares at you incredulously. âWell, grinning and recognizing are quite two different things, Officer.â
He doesnât understand. He wasnât there.
âNo, sir. He⌠He grinned because he recognized me. And when he realized that I didnât remember who he was⌠Sir, I wish you couldâve seen his face. He looked so⌠horrified,â you say. âBut horrified wouldnât even be the right word. Iâve never seen someone look so devastated. No, petrified? Sir, I canât describe it, but I was just⌠It was almost as if he expected me to know who he was. And he couldnât even properly fight back. I donât think he had his magic. It was like watching a flame slowly flickering outâŚâ
You didnât know you were shaking so hard until the General places a steady hand on the trembling desk.Â
âI see,â he says. âIt looks like my soldiers had already confiscated his gemstone.â He hums. âThe Darlaeans are interestingly weak, Officer. Without their gemstones, they are nothing. But their stones are quite valuable for trade outside these realms⌠Until the Darlaeans threatened war on any nation that would dare to trade with us.â The General sighs and he looks up to stare into your eyes. You canât help but feel strange comfort in the familiarity of his gaze. âI donât suspect you, Y/N,â he finally says.
âYou donât, sir?â
âIf you donât remember being Darlaean, are you really Darlaean at all?â
âSirâŚâ
âIsnât that what youâd been implying? That the fact that a Darlaean war prisoner recognized you means youâre of Darlaean blood?â
âWell, yes⌠But⌠Well, you didnât have to say it out loud,â you whisper. âItâs almost embarrassing.â
âIf I had not said it out loud, would I have thought it in my head, and you wouldâve magically heard me?â
â... I mean, I was sort of hopingâŚâ
The General shakes his head. âYouâre not Darlaean, Officer.â
He would never feel for a Darlaean.
So you must be the furthest thing from being one.
âYouâre a fire mediumâa Solarian. There is no reason to doubt your alliance, Officer. And to be quite honest, there is a large chance the war prisoner was hallucinating,â he says, crossing his legs. âThey find it traumatic to be stripped of their magic. Who knows? The man you saw probably wasnât seeing the real you.â
Oh.
You havenât considered that at all. Itâs an explanation that seems to ease your spiked nerves. Or maybe itâs the way he tells you this explanation. Or maybe⌠itâs the way he looks at you. With trust. With fondness.
âThank you, sir,â you say, your tight grip on the edge of the desk loosening.
âThere is no need to thank me, Officer,â he replies. âIâve done nothing at all.â
You smile, shaking your head. âYou reassured me, sir.â
âDid I?â Heâs either pretending to look oblivious or he really is oblivious.
You nod your head, smiling so brightly that itâs actually hard for him to keep eye contact. For Soohtâs sake. Why are you smiling like that? He didnât even say anything mildly funny.
But itâs your smileâyour bright grin that makes Yoongi suddenly realize why heâd been so cold to you during your investigation.Â
Youâre dangerously easy to like. Dangerously easy to care for, too. If heâs not careful, he might justâ
âBut what will happen to him, sir?â
His eyes flit to meet yours. âHim?â
âThe war prisoner,â you say with curiosity. âWhat will happen to him?â
He wishes you hadnât asked.
He clears his throat. âWellâŚâ Why does he feel embarrassed admitting this to you? Itâs almost as if he knows youâre going to tell him off for this. And why is the lighting in his tent so unbelievably soft right now? It perfectly outlines the gentle curves of your facial features, and he canât help but stare for a second longer than usual. âDo you really want to know, Officer?â
âIt sounds a lot like you donât want to tell me, sir,â you say, raising your eyebrows.
Thereâs a long pause.Â
Then, the General sighs, looking down at his knees. âItâs hurt them or get hurt ourselves,â he finally says. âKill them or get killed ourselves.â
In some twisted way, that had answered your question. He looks up hesitantly as the realization sets on your face.
âOh,â you say. The smile is long gone. You begin to chew on your lip. Heâs scared that youâll storm out of the tent, upset about the unnecessary loss of lives, but heâs even more terrified that youâll judge him for being so cruel. But he canât help it. Heâd meant what he said.
You take a long time to answer, seeming to mull over your thoughts in your head. All Yoongi can do is patiently wait, which is fine for him. He listens to the quiet ambiance of the nightâthe gentle fluttering of the summer wind against the tent, the dull flickering of the lamplight. Then, he finally hears your voice, soft, as if spun out of silk.
âWell, sir, I suppose⌠I suppose this is war,â you say.
Heâs pleasantly surprised at your response.Â
âI suppose it is.â
He gazes up at you, comfortably perched on his desk, legs slightly swinging back and forth. You look like youâre lost in thought again, eyes glazed over and lips slightly parted. He wonders what you could be thinking of.
He hopes youâre not overthinking too much. After all, the Darlaean that you claim recognized you is a desperate, pathetic (slightly delusional) soldier who wonât be alive by tomorrow morning. But alas, he just knowsâas your General, mentor and colleagueâthat youâre rethinking the moments when youâd met the war prisoner. For Soohtâs sake, he hates seeing you in agony over things that arenât your fault.
But you canât seem to get that innocent, boxy smile out of your head.
Sure, of course youâre not Darlaean. Of course youâd never plan to go against your own nation. You wouldnât want to betray your friends here. And you would never dream of betraying the Solarian General.
That stupid necklace is definitely a gift. Maybe it was a Darlaeanâs gemstone decades ago. But itâs yours now. You donât care who gave it to you or why. Because your past is not your problem anymore, and youâre Solarian through and through.
The boxy smile flashes in your mind again.
You flinch.
So why the hell does the face of a Darlaean war prisoner haunt your mind? Heâll be dead by tomorrow morning. Dead. You hate to think of it. What if he has a family? What if someone is waiting for him to come back to his nation? What did he do wrong to get himself killed so mercilessly?
Hurt them or get hurt ourselves. Kill them or get killed ourselves. Does this apply to torture?
Does he even deserve to be killed?Â
But⌠heâs a war prisoner. Youâd rather himâa strangerâdisappear off the face of this nation than anyone you know and have come to care for. Itâs a thought that fills you with immeasurable guilt: who are you to dictate who deserves to die and who doesnât?Â
âYou should be careful,â the General says.
It freezes your frenzied thoughts.
âCareful, sir?â
âDoubt has little place in the army,â he says. Itâs almost as if heâs in your head. Or he knows you too well. But before you can even make up some excuse for your doubting, the General tugs at the collar of his uniform and clears his throat. âItâs getting hot these days, isnât it?â
Is he really changing the subject to the weather? But youâd rather talk about that than dwell on the topic before.
âI guess it is, sir,â you say, humoring him. âIt feels like autumn was just yesterday.â
The General nods. âSummer is always a bloodbath,â he says. His sharp eyes flit up to yours. âThe heat agitates people.â
âA bloodbathâŚ?â
When you blink, you see a flash of unmoving bodies piled on top of each other on a bloody battlefield, and shivers run down your spine.
âItâs a good thing Iâm not afraid of death,â the General says with a snort.
Your eyes widen. âSir!â
âItâs a joke,â he says, cocking his head, an amused smile on his face. âAnd didnât you think the same?â
âWell, on second thought, maybe Iâm not in a position to say such a thing,â you say, chewing on your lip. âI donât remember being in life-threatening situations. So who am I to say Iâll be afraid of it or not?â
âEasy,â the General says. âYou ask yourself, âWill I care too much if I donât exist anymore?ââ
âOf course I wouldnât be able to care about my existence if Iâm already dead,â you say, shaking your head. You let out a small smile. âSir, this is getting too dark, donât you think?â
âWould you rather we talk about the weather?â he asks so seriously that you almost miss the sarcastic glint in his eyes. âItâs not too humid, this time around, and I do appreciate the coolness of the mornings.â
âOr I can ask you a question and you could answer it,â you say with a grin.Â
âAh, is this payback for the investigation?â
âYou were quite cold to me in the interrogation room, werenât you?â you say, upturning your nose. âMaybe it is payback. What was it that you said to me? âAnd what makes you think you can ask the questions here,â was it?â
The General lets out a small laugh. âI was trying to set a somber mood!â
âOh, it made me somber all right,â you laugh. âAre you ready for my question?â
âOf course I am.â
He almost flinches back in shock when you suddenly lean into him, glaring just as he did when he had questioned you in the interrogation room. The playful look on your face is goneâreplaced with quite a serious expression. Your eyes search his, and he hopes you donât notice his Adamâs apple shift when he involuntarily gulps. He didnât know you could be so intimidating.
âWhen you first met me in Circa Sapph, what did you want to know about me?â
He blinks.
You stare.
He blinks again.
Then:
âWhat kind of question is that?â
His inquiry has you spiraling out of character. You immediately lean back from him and sigh. âYouâre supposed to answer the question, not question me right back! What was that thing you said again? And what makes you think you can ask the questions here?â
Yoongi laughs. âWell, weâre not in the interrogation room, are we?â
âI worked up the courage to ask you that question sir,â you protest. âIf you could answer it, that would be great.â
You worked up the courage to ask him? He wonders why. He thought personal questions always came naturally to you. In fact, you seem to have a penchant for coming up with the most arbitrarily invasive questions. Not that he minds.
âWhat did I want to know about you? When I first met you?â Yoongi says, tapping his chin in mock thoughtfulness. âI wanted to know what the hell you were doing in my tent.â
âRiveting.â
To be quite honest, he remembers more than that. But why would he share those thoughts out loud?
âIf that was an unsatisfactory answer, you could use the wonderful interrogation tactic of threats,â he says half-jokingly.
âI donât think Iâm cut out for interrogating,â you snort, swinging your legs. âBesides, what would I even threaten you about? That Iâll constantly bother you so you wonât get any sleep? Youâre already sleep-deprived.â
Yoongi laughs. âIt sounds like a very pleasant threat to me. A tiring task for you, however.â
You roll your eyes. âWhatever. Iâll tell you what I thought when I first saw you.â
Yoongi raises his eyebrows. âYou will?â
âI thought you were royalty.â
âMe?â
âYes! You walked in all seriously with a trail of blood running down your face and for Soohtâs sake, you looked terrifying. I also noticed the shitty posture right away.â
Yoongi laughs. âOf course you did.â
âIt was actually a very pleasant initial impression. Until you stormed straight towards me and undid all of poor Namjoonâs hard work,â you say with a teasing smile.
âOh, really?â Yoongi says. âI canât say I had the same initial impression as you did.â
You raise your eyebrows. âWas it unpleasant, then?â
âNot that, either,â he answers. âIt was a⌠confusing initial impression.â
âAnd how can an initial impression be confusing?â
âBecause I felt like I wouldâve remembered someone like you.â
Silence.
For a second, he wonders if he overshared, which is a problem he rarelyâor neverâhas. Maybe in some weird, twisted way, you are a good interrogator.
âIâm pretty unforgettable, arenât I?â
But immediately after those words leave your mouth, he sees a look of embarrassment creeping over your face. You quickly stare down at your knees.
âNo, no,â he says. âCrazy enough, youâre right. You are unforgettable.â
âOr you just have a good memory.â
âMaybe that too,â he snorts.
Either itâs the summer heat in his tent or his cheeks are warm for apparently no reason.
âWhat ifââ
Before you can get your full sentence out, the water clock chimes, interrupting you.
Your eyes widen when you realize the time. âOh!â you say. âItâs so late. I didnât mean to stay here for so long. You must have a lot of work to do, sir.â
The words, âYou can stay for longerâ get caught up in his throat. And by the time he almost utters them, youâve already hopped off his desk, straightening out your uniform. Itâs too late.
âIâm sorry for bothering you with so many useless dilemmas and invasive questions,â you apologize. âIâll get out of your hair now.â
He nods. âRight. Well, then. Goodnight, Officer.â A pause. âAlthough you and I both know neither of us will be sleeping any time soon.â
âYouâre right,â you smile. âBut goodnight anyways, sir. Thank you for reassuring me.â
For a moment, you linger at the entrance of his tent, and he holds his breath. Are you going to ask him one last intrusive question? Or will you leave him in silence? And why does he wish it were the former?
But alas, you give Yoongi one last smile and exit.
He watches the red curtains flutter and your figure disappear into the darkness.
âHey!â
Youâve taken just two steps from the Generalâs tent when you hear a familiar voice. When you turn around, you see Captain Im waving at you, jogging up to you with a book under her arm.
âNayoon!â You greet her. âWhat are you doing out so late?â
She smiles. âSome light reading. But itâs a little difficult to read in the dark, so I was just about to retire to my bed.â Nayoon glances at the short distance between you and the Generalâs tent. âWhat about you? What are you doing out so late?â
Itâs an innocent question, but for Soohtâs sake, where do you even begin? How can you possibly explain to Captain Im that you rushed to the Generalâs tent to inquire about a serious matter questioning your possible allegiance and then left with a strange, warm feeling growing in your chest?
You donât explain, thatâs what.
âWe were reviewing battle plans,â you say nonchalantly.
âAlways busy, as usual,â Nayoon chuckles. âYou two never get any rest.â
âSays you!â you laugh. âWhat were you reading about this time? The history of the universe?â
âOh, no,â she replies. âThatâs what I would consider medium-weight reading,â she says with a teasing lilt to her voice. âI was only rereading some Solarian folktales.â She holds up her book, and youâre surprised to see how frayed it isâalmost falling apart at the seams.
âSolarian folktales?â
âJust something we all grew up with,â she says before her expression softens when she comes to the realization. âI can retell you one if youâd like.â
âOh, Iâd love to hear it.â
Before you know it, you and Nayoon are settled in your tent, the light of the oil lamp radiating a soft glow. She looks up to the ceiling, leaning back as if to gather her thoughts. Her long hair brushes against the straw mat as her head tilts up, and she blinks slowly, seemingly visualizing the story unfolding before her eyes.Â
Her voice is light and silvery when she begins:
âOnce upon the spiritsâ time, there was a young orphan named Haneul. She was about eight or nine years old with bright, curious eyes and a passion for knowledge that kept her warm on the coldest of nights. She wandered the streets of Elu alone, often begging for food and a place to sleep after a long day. Sheâd just barely scrape by with the little money she collected daily from doing odd jobs around the village. And more times than she could count, sheâd go to bed hungry. Yet even with her struggles, Haneul never lost hope.
âShe had a dream. A dream so strong and bright and vivid that it allowed her to wake up the next morning and jump onto her feet with determination. A dream where one day, Haneul would own a book. Just one single book that she could call hers. In reality, she owned close to nothingâthe clothes she wore every day, a tattered cotton bag and a small gourd for water. But those were her essentials. She wanted to own something that would bring her happiness.Â
âAnd so every day, she would visit the village library to read whatever caught her eye, wishing and wishing that one day, she could walk out after having purchased a book.
âThe year Haneul turned eleven, however, was the year that the Park Dynasty was throwing a celebration for their sixtieth anniversary of connecting with the spirits of earth. Wanting to look her very best for the feast, the maternal king announced that she would like to have a beautiful wig made for herâone with luscious braids and silky, black hair. She would pay a generous sum to anyone who would donate their hair. A sum so generous that if Haneul were to acquire it, she could buy the whole library!
âHaneul ran her fingers through her tangled hair, which stopped just below her shoulder. With her dream just one haircut away, her fingers began to tremble with excitement. She quickly borrowed a knife from a kind shop owner and carefully slid the dull blade across her dark strands. She cut off as much as she could without injuring herself. And then she stared, a mass of black hair sitting in her palms.
âHer head felt so light. And she could feel the afternoon breeze tickling her exposed ears, for sheâd cut her hair so short that it barely reached the bottom of her nose.Â
âThen, Haneul ran. She ran to the royal palace, squeezing her hands around the loose strands of hair that had once belonged to her. However, she was stopped at the entrance by the guards.
ââWhat are you doing around here, young one?â they asked her.
âAnd Haneul replied, âIâm here to donate my hair for her majesty!â She lifted up her hands to show them.
âThe guards looked at her with sympathy. After a little bit of quiet staring, one guard finally spoke up. âWell, dear⌠The maternal king is looking for a donation of hair that is at least the length of a dwarf sunflower. You know how tall those can get, child.â
âAnother guard piped up: âTake good care of your hair, and maybe weâll be able to accept your donation in another decade.â
âHaneul was heartbroken. Even as an eleven-year-old girl, she understood the longevity of ten years. Ten years for her hair to grow back. Ten years for her to grow silky, lustrous hair fit for her majesty. But Haneulâs eyes were set on her dream, and she wasnât ready to let go just yet.
âFrom then on, Haneul spent every single solarin she made on spinach and sweet potatoes, which consisted of her diet for the next ten years. She never tied her hair, washed it often in the stream a dayâs walk from the village, and brushed it regularly with a comb she traded three daysâ worth of food for. Then, she waited.
âShe waited without complaints, without agitation, without impatienceâonly hopefulness. She waited and waited and waited. She watched the leaves change color from verdant green to golden yellow to fiery red several times over. She watched a little cherry seed grow into a grand, blossoming tree. She witnessed a baby being born and watched him become old enough to do small chores all by himself. And as the years passed, her hair slowly grew back. For ten years she waited, spending two hours a day meticulously brushing her silky tresses. Compared to her ragged clothes, her hair shone like an onyx stone.Â
âThe villagers were astounded by Haneulâs progress over the years. Sheâd also grown into an intelligent young woman, admired by every person in Elu. And as the days of the seventieth anniversary of the Park Dynasty and their connection with Sahn came close, Haneul began trekking to the stream every day. She found it peaceful there, often sitting on a rock nearby and dipping her feet into the cool stream.Â
âThe day before the maternal king was expected to announce her desire for a new wig for the celebration, Haneul visited the stream for the last time. There, she sat, carefully combing her hair with her brush, eyes closed and feeling the silky strands against the fingers. Her hair was so long that it trailed to the back of her legs, and if she was not careful, it would also drag on the ground when she sat.
ââThis is it,â she said to herself. âMy dream will finally come true.â But there, at that moment, a small breeze swept across the vicinity, playing with the strands of Haneulâs hair. She paused. For a moment, she thought the wind was trying to communicate with her. But that would be silly. The wise spirits of Sori had no interest in mere human affairs. And they would certainly not entertain the thought of connecting with someone as unimportant as she is.
âSo Haneul began imagining how she would rearrange the library after she would buy the property. Maybe she would rebind some of the books that were beginning to fall apart. Or maybe she would reshelve the disorganized books into separate sections. Or maybe!âa real ideaâshe could host reading classes for the children in the village. How wonderful would it be to share her love and knowledge of reading?
âThe wind rustled her hair again. Haneul paused. This couldnât be a coincidence, could it? Was she being silly? For the love of Sori, why would air want to communicate with her?
âBut Haneulâs waited for ten years, and she decided that she can wait some more for the spirits of air. Slowly, she outstretched her hand, and she waited, heart beginning to beat quicker in her chest.
âTo her complete and utter surprise, the leaves on the ground began to stir. She felt another breeze caress her hair, and she gasped, nearly falling off her rock in shock.
âSheâd found the connection with the spirits of air. The first Solarian to do soâjust about seventy years after the Solarians connected with earth.
âIn the end, Haneul bought the library sheâs always wanted and still had money left over to build a schoolâendorsed by the maternal king, of course. Sheâd read her own books every day, and listen to the peaceful sounds of the warm, afternoon breeze turning the pages.â
Nayoon smiles. âItâs the story of how a young woman connected the Solarians with Sori, the spirits of air,â she says, running her fingers through her own silky hair.
âIt was so beautiful,â you say. âBut for Soohtâs sake, talk about patience. I like spinach, but I donât think I could eat it for ten years straight.â
âItâs what makes her Solariaâs very own legend,â Nayoon says with a smile.
âI can see why,â you say, nodding in agreement. The mental image youâd conjured of Haneul flashes in your mind, and for a moment, the picture aligns with Nayoonâs face. What an interesting thought. âYou know, it sounds crazy, but Haneul reminds me of you. Itâs not even just the hair, but itâs the⌠how do I put this into words? The feel of it,â you say, gesturing toward your friend. âYou two feel so similar. It was almost like you were telling your own story.â
Nayoon laughs, tenderly twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. âHm⌠Youâre not crazy for thinking that at all. I really do see myself in Haneul a lot.â She pauses a little. âItâsâŚâ She sighs, a hundred emotions flashing across her face. âTo be quite honest, âHaneulâs Taleâ has resonated with me for years. Itâs the reason I learned to wield air.â
You cock your head. âReally?â
âYes, wellâŚâ She stares at her hands. âItâs a little embarrassing to admit, but I was born without elemental wielding.â
âThen youâre very accomplished for having learned two elements after birth,â you say, reassuring her with a small smile.
âI wouldnât say accomplished,â she says sheepishly. Another small pause. âWell, Iâm from a family of fire mediums. It didnât really take that long until I could wield fire.â
âOh, really?â you say. âThen how old were you when you began?â
âI was nine.â
âThatâs fairly early!â
She hums. âI suppose soâŚâ She stares up at the ceiling of your tent, eyes glossy and a little clouded over. She seems to be reminiscing and seeing how comfortable she is with her thoughts, you almost want to leave her with them.
âOh, Iâm sorry,â Nayoon says. She sniffles a little, shaking her head. âI spaced out a little there.â
You smile. âItâs all right. You looked like you had a lot on your mind. I didnât want to interrupt you.â
âTheyâre not-so-great thoughts, though,â Nayoon says. âIâm actually really glad that I snapped out of it.â
âNot so great thoughtsâŚ?â
âAh, yesâŚâ She hesitates a little but lets a deep breath out and decides to elaborate. âI donât talk much about it, but my entire family perished in the war when I was very young.â
âYour entire family?â Your eyes widen. âOh, Nayoon, Iâm so sorry.â
âOh, no, itâs really fine,â she says. âI donât remember too much.â She sighs, and itâs the kind that holds so much weight to it that you canât even begin to imagine how much her familyâs death had impacted her. âWho am I kidding?â Nayoon says. âI remember it so vividly, Y/N. Like it happened yesterday. My parents died in the same battle. I cried in my older sisterâs arms the night we got the news. Then the next day, she set off to avenge them. I cried alone when I got the message that she didnât make it⌠So, yes, I do remember everything. But itâs fine,â she says again. âIt really is. You shouldnât worry.â
âOh, NayoonâŚâ
âItâs fine,â she repeats. âI was very fortunate that a kind woman took me in. She showed me her collection of booksâbooks that sheâd collected for her entire life. And thatâs when I found this one,â Nayoon says as she holds up the frayed storybook. She smiles wistfully. ââHaneulâs Taleâ was the first story in here, and I read it so many times that I memorized every word of it by the time that I was ten. I wanted to be just like her. Well-read, patient, diligent, passionateâŚâ
âAnd you are,â you say. âYouâre the fourth sector captain of the Solarian Armyâmight I add the youngest captain to ever set foot in the central tentâand an Elunian prodigy. I think youâve succeeded.â
âThanks,â she says with a grateful look on her face. âBut Iâve still got a long way to go.â She sighs before laughing a little. âIâm sorry. You didnât ask for my autobiography, but here I am, spouting it out for you.â
Crazily enough, thatâs not the first time thatâs happened to you.
âOh, no,â you say. âI find all of this fascinating. Youâre here because of everything that has happened in your past. Itâs interesting how much of your present can be shaped by your memories.â
âInteresting, indeed,â she says. âAnd thank you,â Nayoon adds. âIf I may be honest, youâre a wonderful friend, Y/N. Itâs just so easy to talk to you.â
You smile. âAnd thank you for trusting me. Itâs difficult to open up about your past, but Iâm grateful that you decided to share it. And that fairy taleâit was beautiful. It makes me want to become an air medium, too,â you laugh.Â
Nayoon giggles. âI can let you borrow my book, then.â
You gasp. âOh, no. I couldnât do that. You cherish that book, donât you? I wouldnât want to fumble through it with my awfully clumsy fingers.â
Nayoon laughs. âOh, Y/N, just take it,â she says, handing you the old book. âIâve memorized all the stories, anyway. You can return it after youâve finished reading to your heartâs content. Besides, how can you say no to some of Solariaâs most classic tales? Arenât you curious about how we connected with the other elements?â
When she puts it that way⌠Itâs a little hard not to resist.
Soon, youâre alone in your tent, tucked in your covers with Nayoonâs book in your hands. The detailing of the book is fascinatingâthick, creamy pages, crisp, black ink, beautiful watercolor illustrations to accompany the stories⌠Yet you still find yourself nodding off to the vivid images.
As interesting as the book seems, youâre a little more worried that youâll fall asleep and somehow crumple up the pagesâyou couldnât do that to Nayoon! So, you set the book aside and look up at the red ceiling of your tent, sleep almost overtaking your senses.
So much has happened tonight. More than you bargained for when you slipped out of your covers this morning. But then again, it has been quite a productive day. Your conversation with the General, with Nayoon⌠And now you have a wonderful book that you can read in your spare time.
Thereâs a breeze outside that flutters the curtains at the entrance of your tent. The night air is warm yet gentle, and it lulls you to dreamland all too quickly. But maybe the ease of slumber that youâd coveted for circas isnât so great after all.
You have a dream.
Not a wondrous milestone like Haneulâs, but a nightmare. One that mars your thoughts and puts a deep frown on your sleeping face.
The stench of blood. The horrid sight of dead bodies with missing limbs and heads. The sound of cries of help and pain. The foreboding feeling of danger.
Your feet feel heavy, sweat and blood dripping from your forehead. Your hands are grasped around another. A womanâs. But her skin is cold, and she has no pulse. Itâs then that you realize youâre crying. Your eyesight is blurry. You taste blood on your tongue. And youâre hurt too. A sharp stinging pain pervades your entire leg.
You limp, arms straining to drag the dead soldier across the battlefield. Trying your best to carry her back homeâwherever that is.
You know this is a dream because you canât sense your own thoughts. Or maybe youâre so scared that you donât have any at all.
A strangled scream leaves your lips. âHelp!â
It doesnât even sound like you. You canât recognize your own voice.
But the other soldiers are a blur in the background. No one even gives you a second look.
Your hands shake, yet you refuse to let go of the soldier.
Then, you feel a presence.
A familiar presence.
Heâs tall and bloodied from battle, but he grabs the soldierâs legs and helps you lift her up from the muddy ground. A rather shadowy figure, but you seem to know him. You seem comfortable with him. A colleague? An acquaintance? No⌠he seems like your friend.Â
âThank you.â Youâre sobbing again. But this time, theyâre tears of joy, not sadness.
âIâm sorry,â he answers, words full of sorrow and regret. âIâm sorry,â he repeats.
You donât know what heâs apologizing for. But the you in your dream seems to understand. Sheâor youânods solemnly, tears making clear streaks down her dirt-covered face.
Then, the man looks up.
âLetâs bring her back home, all right?â
He smilesâa kind, kind smile that understandably doesnât quite reach his melancholy-filled eyes. But itâs the kind of smile that stretches his lips into a familiar, boxy shape.
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⨰ a/n: this week was absolutely fucking insane because 1) my friend and i were literally physically assaulted by a man who wanted money from broke college students :') 2) the guy i was seeing told me to step on a scale even though i'm considered underweight and struggle with body image and face dysmorphia 3) my college went on a full lockdown because there was a threat on campus... while i was ON CAMPUS. i was stuck in a building for five hours :))))))))) anywho! i hope you enjoyed this chapter! the next one is one of my favorites so i'm excited to share it!! (on the plus side, i got invited to a yacht party???? time to live out my y/n dreams LMAO)
please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!
⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nationâotherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.
⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15
⨰ warnings: profanity, mentions of blood and death
⨰ wordcount: 5.1k
⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)
⨰ a/n: thank you to @the-berry-named-ari for beta-reading as usual <3 i wouldn't be able to do this without you!
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â§â§Circa Diamondâ§â§
The room is dark, mud walls obscuring any sort of light that tries to shine underneath the surface of the earth. It smells of dirt and wet soil, and itâs cold down here. No one had mentioned how cold it would be. Not even Captain Im, who advised you to come with a clear mind.
The wooden table where you place your two hands is stained with something dark. Something you hope is not blood. Your seat is unbearably uncomfortable. Not because there is no back support, but because in front of you, stands the General and the Lieutenant. There are no other chairs in the room, and youâre forced to look up at them.
With the exception of the flickering oil lamp on the floor, there is no other light source. The lamp casts dark shadows over the General and Lieutenantâs faces. It makes them look threatening. Like theyâd do anything to get any sort of information out of you.
You gulp.
âSo this is the interrogation room that you tried to haul me off to eight circas ago, sir,â you say, attempting to lighten up the dim atmosphere. âI never wouldâve thought that it was underground, though,â you say. âNice element of surprise.â
To your relief, the Lieutenant smiles a little. But the General barely moves a face muscle.
âWe have instructed the officers who have already been questioned to stay silent. Since you are the last we will question, you will also be the one to tell the others that the investigation is over,â the General says. âThis is not meant to be an interrogation, but we will keep some of the same formalities.â He never breaks eye contact. âDo you understand, Officer Ryu?â
You gulp. âYes, sir.â
This is the intimidating man you remember seeing in Circa Sapph. The man who unknowingly ripped your stitches and showed you no mercy for your suspicious behavior. You wonder where the man who tenderly cared for your burn wounds is. The man who would secretly deliver matches into your tent. The man who showed you kindness when you needed it.
âYouâre to tell no lies, Officer Ryu,â the Lieutenant says. Her usual warm eyes are now cold and guarded. Itâs strange⌠These are two people who youâve come to know so well in the past several circas. But now theyâre acting like you barely know each other at all. It hurts, but you suppose itâs the right thing to do. âIf you do lie, we will know,â the Lieutenant continues. âBut you should have no reason to lie, Officer. Unless youâve got something to hide.â
âNo, sir. Iâm an open book,â you say. âIâll tell the truth. I promise.â
âThen, weâll get right to it,â the General says. He steps closer to you, lips curved slightly down and eyebrows twisted. His presence makes you want to sink into your chair, but you force yourself to remain still. âWhen you woke up in Circa Sapph, eight circas ago, what did you know?â
âI knew my name, sir.â
âYour entire name?â
âNo, sir. Just my first.â
âAnd youâre claiming that is all you remembered?â
âYes, sir. I canât remember anything else.â
He frowns, taking a step closer. âThen how will you explain your battle plans?â
Your eyes widen. âIf⌠if Iâm being honest, sir⌠I canât. I just⌠I just drew what came to my mind. But not once did I stare at my own drawings and recognize anything.â
âSo youâre telling me, in the eight circas that youâve spent here without the memories of your past, youâve never had a single moment where you recognized someone or something?â
His words spark a memory in you.
A memory that you remember being electric. Another memory that you remember being so⌠warm.
âAh. You do recognize something.â The General takes another step forward. Heâs almost hovering over you, his hands splayed on the wooden table as he stares into your eyes. âWhat do you remember?â
âI-ItâsâŚâ You fidget. âItâs not that I remember, but⌠There have been moments, sir⌠Moments where someone has felt familiarâŚâ
âWho?â he whispers.
âM-My friend, sir. Baek⌠Hana? Soldier Baek? And⌠t-the fire tiger. Heli⌠Thereâs something about him, sir. I feel as if Iâve known him from beforeâŚâ
âAnd you never bothered to say anything becauseâŚ?â
âBecause I didnât think it was important, sir,â you confess. âI thought I was going crazy. I donât know why theyâre the only ones who feel familiar to me, sir. I know as much as you do.â
The General raises his eyebrows. âIn fact, you do not. There are other things that you havenât told me. Things that youâve deemed as unimportant. Or really, is this just a hoax to hide your secrets?â
âItâs not, sir!â you say.
âIs Ryu Y/N your real name?â he says.
âI-I donât know, sir.â
âIs Y/N your real name?â
âI really do hope it is, sir.â A small pause. âBut I donât know for sure, either.â
âThen what do you know?â
The General glares down at you like youâre nothing but the mud smudged on his shoes. Heâs so close to you that you can finally delineate his delicate features in the darkness. Except for this time around, his gentle features are marred by a formidable frown. It makes your hands tremble, and you hold them together to hide it. This is just an act. He has to be like this. He doesnât hate your guts, does he? Heâs just doing this to fish information out of you. Because if he were too kind right now, it wouldnât be fair for the others.
âI knowâŚâ You gulp. Steady. Thereâs no reason to feel so guilty if youâve done nothing wrong. âI know that Iâm a Solarian Officer, sir. I know that Iâm a fire medium and that Iâve been creating battle plans for the army. I know that Iâve been decoding monocode for the past several circas, and I know that I was the one who suggested that there might be a spy amongst the officers.â
âThose are things that everybody knows,â the General says. His eyes darken, but before you think he will hold you by the collar, he leans away, sighing. He brings his hands behind his back, his posture slightly slouching, and he turns away from you, unable to make eye contact.
It is silent for a while. Your eyes dart around the dark room, and you see the Lieutenant leaning against the wall, looking alert but quite bored at the same time. She, like the General, is quite the actor. Theyâve both managed to convince you that they do not care about you at all. Itâs starting to get into your head.
âDid you know, Officer Ryu, that we have asked every single person before you to pinpoint who they thought the most suspicious officer was?â
Your head jerks up and you look at the General with wide eyes.
âAnd would you like to guess how many of the fifteen officers thought you were the culprit?â
You would rather not know this information.
âEight,â he says anyway. âEight out of fifteen officers were more or less convinced that you work with the Darlaeans. I must add that if you are a spy, you are doing a terribly shitty job.â
You stare at your hands in disbelief. Eight out of fifteen is quite a lotâmore than half! You didnât think you were friends with them all, but you did think of yourselves as acquaintances⌠Which officers had deemed you untrustworthy? And can you gain their trust in the future?
âDo you think Iâm the spy, sir?â you say.
Your question makes the Generalâs eyes widen for a split second before he maintains his stoic expression. âAnd what makes you think you can ask the questions here?â
Now youâre starting to think that this is looking out to be a real interrogation.
âWe investigated your tent a couple of days ago.â
You look up slowly, unsure how to feel. âDid you find anything⌠sir?â
âAre you hiding anything⌠Officer?â
âNo, Iâm not, sir,â you say. âI have nothing to hide.â
But as soon as those words come out of your mouth, an image of the necklace flashes in your mind. Unbeknownst to yourself, youâd just lied. Youâd completely forgotten about that stupid, stupid necklace. The necklace that you were so keen on letting go of for your present selfâs sake.
But you hadnât hidden it because youâre a spy and that necklace holds some sort of important information regarding your mission here. Youâd hidden it because you wanted to keep it safe. Because it was the only clue back to your past.
For fuckâs sake. Maybe you shouldâve thrown it away when you had the chance.
Had they found it hidden behind your futon?
Had it accidentally rolled under your futon in the past several circas? (Thanks to the rough tossing and turning you do in your sleep?) Had it been so well-hidden that they werenât able to find it?
Or did they find it and are they testing you to see if youâll lie about it? Are they going to punish you?
But itâs a necklace, for Soohtâs sake! Itâs jewelry. Theyâre not going to punish you for hiding precious stones, are they?
Still⌠Should you confess? Just in case? Or will that make you look even more suspicious? But before you can make up your jumbled mind:
âGood,â the General says. âWe didnât find anything out of the ordinary.â
Your heart feels like it is sinking and soaring at the same time. Is this good news? Or is it bad news?
The necklace is just a necklace. So why do you feel as if youâve committed a war crime, hiding it?
âThere is one last question that I must ask you,â the General says. It makes you both anxious yet filled with relief. Itâs almost over.
The General stares straight into your eyes, giving you no room to lie. And quietly, he whispers: âDo you think youâre a Darlaean spy?â
You hesitate.
Why does this feel like some sort of trap?
You try to search the Generalâs eyes for some sort of answer, some sort of comforting emotion. But you find neither.
Saying yes would probably be the worst answer you could possibly give. But if you say no, youâre risking the chance of lying. Because how would you know if youâre a Darlaean spy? You wouldnât remember. And what if the necklace really does contain covert orders hidden inside the gem? Youâd never bothered to look at it twice. In fact, you havenât looked at it since Cira Sapph last year. How would you know?
How do you answer this?
âItâs not a hard question,â the General says. âYes or no. Do you think youâre a Darlaean spy?â
âI⌠donât know, sir.â
He scoffs in disbelief. âYou⌠donât know?â
âHow would I know if I wasnât, sir? What if my being an officer is going to jeopardize the entirety of the Solarian Army? What if⌠What if I amââ
âThatâs enough,â the General says. âNever in my life have I seen anyone break apart this easily during an investigation.â
âY/N, we didnât torture you in the slightest, and youâre doubting yourself as if you really are guilty,â Doyun says. She sighs, walking towards you and outstretching her hand for you to take. You do, and she helps you stand up. âIt was honestly painful to watch, Y/N. What Yoongi said was true. Eight out of the fifteen we questioned believed you were most likely to be the spy. But the majority doesnât always have to be right. We searched your tent, and we found nothing. You find unexplainable comfort in Soldier Baek and the fire tiger, and youâve been subconsciously trying to explain yourself by tricking yourself into thinking theyâre familiar. Y/N, we questioned you so that you can prove your innocence. You answered as if you wanted to prove yourself guilty.â
âIâm sorry⌠It was just thatâŚâ
Oh no.
A horrible thought occurs to you.
The necklace. Hadnât it held a dainty, diamond pendant? A white diamond.
If youâre not mistaken, thatâs a gemstone. In fact, this very fucking circa is Circa Diamond. And everybody knows the twelve circas represent the twelve Darlaean gemstones.
For Soohtâs sake, you really are screwed.
Are you really hiding away a Darlaean artifact?
Why the hell are you in possession of it? Who had given it to you? Had it not been a former lover? Had it not been a gift?
What is the necklace?
Are you who you fear you are?
âIt was just that⌠what?â the General asks. His eyebrows are raised, but that formidable look on his face is gone. It looks like the investigation is officially over.
âIâsorry. I started overthinking again,â you say, shaking your head. No. That necklace has to be a gift. You can feel it. And this is an instinct you can finally trust. You offer them a meek smile. âI have no evidence to support myself. But I also have no evidence to convict myself, either. What will happen to me?â
âI⌠donât know,â the General says, mimicking the exact way youâve been saying that phrase for the past several minutes. But when you give him a mortified look, he blinks and realizes maybe that wasnât a good joke to make. âI mean,â he clears his throat awkwardly, âthe Lieutenant and I would like to confer. There are other confessions we must take into account. So for the time being, youâre free to leave, Officer.â
You nod. âSir?â
âWill we still be able to train tomorrow morning?â
Even after every mean word he has thrown your way today, youâre still hopeful. He nods, and your eyes light up with mirth.
âAnd Doyun! Weâre still on for the late-night picnic today?â
âSure are!â his lieutenant answers.
He and Doyun watch you leave the room, disappearing behind a large, wooden door to walk up the stairs back to the surface. And the moment youâre gone, Doyun turns to him.
âWhat is going to happen to her?â
He runs his hands through his hair, unable to answer.
âYou were way colder to her than you were to the others, you know,â she says. ââAnd what makes you think you can ask the questions here?â A little harsh, donât you think?â
âThe others didnât try to ask us questions,â he says, but inside, he canât help but feel a little guilty. Why was he so unnecessarily cold towards you? It was as if he was trying to push you away. But youâre almost as stubborn as he is. He knows youâll always come back to him (and with a surprising attitude, too).
Yoongi sighs. âI canât shake this strange feeling off, Doyun.â
âWhat?â
âIf more than half of our officers think sheâs suspicious, theyâre seeing something that weâre obviously missing.â
âDo you want to know what I believe, Yoongi?â
He raises his eyebrows. âYou look like you know something I donât, Lieutenant.â
âI might.â She crosses her arms over her chest. âLetâs say that she is a Darlaean spy.â
âPreposterous.â
âBut most signs point to the fact that she is.â
He stays silent.
âLetâs face the facts, shall we? She came to us unable to wield any of the elements. She was strangely able to predict the Darlaean movements on the battlefield. Not a single person in our army remembers who she is. She believes that Soldier Baek and the fire tiger are familiar to her, but how can they be? No one knows who she is. And who knows if the name on the file I found and she is even the same person? We didnât take photographs of our soldiers.â
Yoongi places a hand on his throbbing forehead. âFor Soohtâs sake, Doyun.â
âBut I really do think sheâs lost her memories.â
âYouâre saying that she originally came here to spy on us, but she got into some accident on the battlefield and we took her in, thinking she was one of ours. She really did lose her memories, and now, she thinks sheâs loyal to Solaria.â
âItâs the only way we can explain so much, Yoongi,â Doyun says. âAnd the Darlaeans. Theyâre panicking because theyâve obviously lost one of their most intelligent soldiers. They probably didnât think that she would start working with us. It would explain their messages, too. Sheâs supposed to understand them, but she canât. Not when she canât remember anything from her past.â
âBut⌠one of my soldiers⌠They couldnât detect any gemstone on her,â he says. âDo you really think a Darlaean wouldâve purposefully eradicated their ability to do magic?â
âShe couldâve lost it on the battlefield,â Doyun says. âOr she disposed of it before she tried to infiltrate our campground.â
âHereâs the thing, Doyun,â Yoongi sighs. âWhat if she gets her memories back? Whoâs to tell? And how would we know if she started working against us? What if she never even lost her memories in the first place?â
âThe Darlaeans would never allow their spy to aid in our victoryâeven if it were just for show,â Doyun says. âEither theyâre planning something so large that we couldnât have seen it coming, or they made a simple mistake that is going to cost them their victory. Sheâs on our side, Yoongi. Just listen to the way she talks about this nation. She loves Solaria, and sheâs loyal to us. It doesnât matter what she was before. Sheâs with us now.â
âYou underestimate her ability to overthink, Doyun,â Yoongi says. âYou think she hasnât already thought of this possibility? This investigation mightâve just pushed her over into realizing that she is the Darlaean spy. Once she starts remembering her past, itâs over for us.â
âEven if she does remember,â Doyun says. âWhat makes you think that sheâll immediately go back to the Darlaeans? What if she realizes that she belongs in Solaria? That sheâs always belonged?â
âI donât knowâŚâ Yoongi says. He closes his eyes, massaging his aching forehead. âWe canât even say weâre absolutely sure that she is the spy. The Darlaeans would never waste a good soldier to spy on us. Look at the past spies weâve caught. Theyâve all been massive idiotsâhorrible actors and even worse people. I doubt that the ones we didnât catch even returned to Darlae with substantial information. We keep everything between us officersâŚâ
âYouâre in denial, Yoongi,â Doyun says, shaking her head. âLook, weâre both fond of her. So what if she is originally Darlaean? Sheâs done nothing but help Solaria. Didnât you take her to meet the king? If she really did remember her past, do you really think she wouldâve let that opportunity to slay his majesty pass by?â
âThatâs a good point,â Yoongi mutters.
âAnd sheâs a fire medium, now,â she says. âA Darlaean wouldâve never been able to do that. Think of her as a reborn Solarian,â she says. âShe isnât a spy, Yoongiâif she even was one in the first place.â
âSo youâre saying we should disregard her past,â he says slowly. âWeâve killed more for doing much less than what she set out to do⌠theoretically, that is.â
âI trust her,â Doyun says. She stands up tallâsomething she tends to do when she tries to make a point. âDo you?â
âOf course I do.â
How can he not?
All those late nights and early mornings⌠Spending an entire day with you in the capital⌠Youâd confessed to him that you fight to end the war. Not only that, but you fight to end the war in Solariaâs favor.
He suddenly recalls the vision you had explained to him just barely a circa ago. The vision where you were riding on your fire tiger, embracing a Solaria free from war and death, embracing an Alder that isnât a war campground, and riding towards a blazing sun.
For Soohtâs sake. Of course he trusts you. In fact, he trusts you so much that it scares him.
âSo whatâs your final call, General?â Doyun says, a teasing smile on her lips.
âSpy or not, we will treat her as if she is our own,â he says. âAs for the investigation⌠Weâll tell them that everyone is innocent. There is no spy in the Solarian Army. At least, for now.â
âDo you think the others will believe us?â
âNo,â he replies. âBut someone has to believe in her. We canât let her doubt herself. Sheâs Solarian as far as she knowsâas far as we know, too.â
âHow complicated,â Doyun sighs. But she shakes her head, a grin appearing on her lips. âIf she really is a Darlaean spy⌠It makes you think,â she says. âMaybe theyâre not that different from us at all.â
Yoongi finds that idea absolutely abhorrent.
â§â§Circa Emeraldâ§â§
You were about sixty-two percent sure that you would be kicked out of the officer meetings. Instead, you were pleasantly surprised by good news. The General and Lieutenant deemed that every officer is innocent.
It makes you feel better because, for a moment, youâd started doubting yourself. Now, youâre glad to know that your theory is wrong. That there is no spy and nobody knows what kind of plan the Darlaeans are brewing.
Of course, there is the necklace. But every time that thought comes to you, you shoo it away. Itâs just a fucking necklace, for Soohtâs sake. Thereâs nothing deep about it at all. A necklace from a former lover. A necklace that you should seriously dispose of.
A diamond necklace that doesnât hold any secret message in it.
It means nothing to you. Especially after decoding last circaâs message.
As usual, the code had confused everyone. From âKwangâ to âopalââanother gemstone. Though most officers had been even more perplexed about the code than before, you were rather glad. Opal is goodâgreat, even. Because nothing significant ties you to it at all. If your necklace had a dangling opal pendant, that wouldâve been another (terrifying) story. You canât possibly be connected to these strange Darlaean messages. And they arenât trying to speak to you through ancient code.
Youâre not the spy.
In fact, there is no spy.
Itâs been rather comforting ever since the investigations. There are still officers who express their distaste for you, but for the most part, everyone is kind and civil. Youâve been here for nearly nine circas. If you wanted to do something diabolical, you wouldâve done so a long time ago.
So everything goes back to normal.
You train with the General at dawn, write battle plans, study the code and help cook in the kitchen tent by day. Sometimes, you meet with your acquaintancesâearly morning Incha sessions with Captain Im, casual afternoon meetups with Doyun and evening chats with Hana. (You no longer visit Captain Yoo by the water clock, but occasionally, you do visit Major Hyun in her gardenâmuch to her delight.) By nightfall, however, you always head back outside to practice your fire wielding (with Heli to accompany you). You find it the most comforting to light the gorgeous flames out in the darkness; it gives the illusion that your fires are brighter than they really are.
And as early summer begins to kick in, the days grow longer. Youâre not too opposed to it. It gives you more time to focus on your officer work, and thereâs never a limit to how much you can do.
Today, in particular, youâre prepping for todayâs dinner. The sun is still relatively high up in the sky, shining its rather hot heat down on everyone in the campground. You let the sweat drip down your brow as you lug around the giant water barrel filled with the dirty dishes from last nightâs supper and todayâs lunch.
As youâre crossing Alderâs flatland, some yelling and obvious commotion makes you turn your head.
There is a crowd of soldiers, surrounding someone. Thereâs some cursing, some cries of pain. You step closer, minding the large barrel youâre carrying.
What could be going on?
âI swear on fucking Guseulâs heart once I get out, Iâm gonna kill you all!â
Your eyes widen.
That doesnât sound like something a Solarian would say.
âHold his arm! You! You grab his leg!â
Thereâs some more scuffling.
You step even closer.
Then, everything clears out, and youâre suddenly able to see exactly whatâs going on.
Oh.
A Darlaean war prisoner.
Heâs dressed in a sleek, black uniform with silver and purple accents. Thereâs crusted blood around his nose and lips, but instead of looking defeated, he looks incredibly angry.
A Darlaean.
So this is what they look like.
They look like any Solarian, to be quite honest. But you suppose it makes sense. If the Solarians had split from the Darlaeans many centuries ago, it would be strange to not have any similarities in appearance.
âIâll kill you! Iâll kill you all!â
The fierce yelling makes you jerk your head upwards. But that action makes you meet the eyes of the Darlaean. Shivers run down your spine.
At the first glance, he looks like he wants to murder you, which is what he has been saying, anyway. But then he blinks. And strangely, his eyes soften.
And in his kind-looking eyes, you see recognition.
You freeze.
No.
You blink. You blink again to make sure youâre not hallucinating. Then, he grins. He fucking grins. And his smile⌠Itâs what you would call a boxy grinâa grin stretched so wide that it resembles a soft-edged quadrilateral. Youâve never seen anything like that before. Do all Darlaeans smile like this?
And why⌠Why is he smiling at you?
Why doesnât he hate you?
Why doesnât he want to kill you?
You blink again.
The man continues to stare at you.
You stare right back.
For moments, you play a staring contest with this Darlaean stranger, unable to look awayâeven though you desperately want to.
And you watch, in time, as the bright, genuine smile on his lips begins to fade away. His eyes become wide and alert. A look of horror morphs onto his face.
âHe stopped fighting! Take him away to the interrogation room!â
The man who had fought so hard for his freedom before is frozen still. You silently watch him get dragged away. And he canât seem to take his eyes off of you, the terrified look on his face staying until he is completely out of your sight.
Your knees feel wobbly, and you have to settle the barrel down to lean on it.
Who was that man?
And why� Why did he look at you as if you knew him?
What is going on?
You wanted to forget who you were before. You thought you were the new you. But it seems as though the spirits want you to uncover your past. First the spy accusations and now this. Things would be so much easier if you just remembered.
Itâs a yes or no question.
Are you a Darlaean spy?
What if you are?
You sink down on the ground, holding onto the barrel as if it were your life support.
If the General and Lieutenant think youâre innocent, you must be⌠Right? Or⌠Or what if they made a mistake? What if youâre dangerous?
You try to swallow the difficult thoughts.
Youâll try to last until dinner is finished. But the moment itâs over, youâre going to have to visit the General.
He wouldnât ship you off to the interrogation room again. Would he?
Youâre shaking.
Youâve been standing outside the Generalâs tent for the past several minutes, trying to rehearse what youâre going to say to him. But every time, you realize what youâre trying to do is insanely preposterous.
Are you trying to turn yourself in?
Why the hell would you do that?
But the answer is obvious.
Because you care about Solaria, for fuckâs sake.
If youâre a danger to the army, you would want to know.
âYouâve been standing out there for eight minutes now,â a soft voice comes from inside the tent. âAre you rehearsing a play out there?â
âN-No,â you say, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. âI didnât⌠uh, I wasnât sure if you allowed anyone to visit you at this hourâŚâ
âCome on in,â he says without hesitation.
Your palms feel clammy, but you do as he says, tentatively drawing the curtains to his tent and walking inside.
The Generalâs personal tent is not too grand for the General of the Solarian Army. In fact, you think itâs a little smaller than the Lieutenantâs tent. He has a modest futon in the corner and a rather large, wooden desk that takes up almost all of the space. He sits at his desk, papers piling up as he scribbles on some documents splayed before him. When he hears you stepping into his space, he looks up. And immediately, the cross look on his face disappears.
âWhy, Officer, you look like youâve seen a spirit.â
You might as well have seen a spirit. In fact, you suspect that wouldâve made you feel better.
When you donât laugh at his (obviously) hilarious joke, the General frowns. He crosses his legs and leans back in his chair.
âDonât linger around the entrance,â he says. He gestures for you to sit on his desk. Hesitantly, you do so, careful not to put too much weight on it. âYou look troubled, Officer.â
Oh, he has no idea.
âWell⌠sirâŚâ you say, fidgeting with your hands. You look down at your feet. âIâd⌠I think Iâd like to add on to my investigation case.â
The General cocks his head. âThat investigation case is closed, Officer. It has been for nearly a circa. You were innocent. As was everyone else.â
âBut thatâs the thing, sir,â you say, voice slightly trembling. âI⌠I donât think I can be 100 percent innocent.â
The General noticeably tenses. âHow so?â he whispers in his husky voice. But thereâs no sign on his face that makes you think he already suspects you.
If you tell him, will he be angry? Will he even believe you?
You let out a deep breath.
âSir, a Darlaean war prisoner recognized me. I donât know what to do.â
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⨰ a/n: a shorter chapter (for once) LOL. and gasp! me finally writing a cliffhanger???? what do you think about this new development in the plot? đłđł
please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!
⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war w thank you ed with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nationâotherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.
⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15
⨰ warnings: profanity, death of minor characters, mild burn wounds
⨰ wordcount: 10.2k
⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)
⨰ a/n: as usual, @the-berry-named-ari thank you for all of your help and edits <3
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â§â§Circa Amethystâ§â§
Not even a fire medium.
Those words haunt you for days.
Nights in a row, you wake up in a sweat, staring at your trembling hands and wondering why you canât seem to connect with fire. Why canât you be a proper soldier?
Itâs been a little less than a week since the last officer meeting, but you canât get Captain Chuâs words out of your head. What have you done for him to hate you so? Is he really jealous of you? But how can anyone be jealous of a soldier who has no past?ânot that it matters to you anymore.
These questions rattle your head ceaselessly. Even when Heli comes to visit you in the camp (as he tends to do these days to everyoneâs surprise), youâre preoccupied with your thoughts.
The tiger nuzzles you, his dark eyes looking at you filled with worry.
You manage to smile, shaking your head. âIâm sorry,â you say. âIâve been out of it for a few days, havenât I?â You sigh as you settle down in front of your tent, tugging your legs together and resting your head on your knees. Heli pads around on the grass before he nestles next to you on the ground. He huffs, resting his head on his paw and staring at you with round eyes. You canât help but smile again and scratch his head. âItâs just stupid stuff,â you tell the sol. âJust officer drama.â
Heli grunts as if to agree with you. It makes you feel better.
You get a lot of strange looks from soldiers as they pass by your tent. Theyâre probably wondering how in the hell you got a free animal spirit to follow you around, especially when you donât even wield the element. But other than that, youâre left alone to think.
Not even a fire medium.
You doubt Captain Chu said those words with the intent to scar your thoughts for days. Or maybe he knew what he was doing. Maybe he knew youâd get caught up with his words. And maybe you were wrong for calling him out in your first officer meeting. Maybe he wanted to get back at you. Or maybe Doyunâs right. Maybe he is jealous.
âAhem.â
Heli immediately sits up, his tail low as he surveys the person who dares to enter your personal space. And when you look up, to your astonishment, you see Captain Chu.
For a second, the two of you are completely silent, acknowledging each otherâs presence but unsure of what to say. Then:
âA tiger, huh?â Captain Chu speaks. He crosses his arms over his chest as if to show off his own tigerâthe one tattooed on his arm. âA fire sol.â
âHis name is Heli,â you say flatly.
Why is he here? Is he here to apologize? Because Major Ki told him to? In that case, youâre not sure if you can accept. Do you continue to act cold to him? Or do you cut this meeting short and ask him to leave? Or do you retreat into your tent? Will he follow you in there? What the hell does he want from you?
âI can see you thinking, you know,â Captain Chu says, frowning. He kneels in front of you, matching your level, and it makes your eyes widen. âYou do that in officer meetings a lot. You stop blinking, and then you start chewing on your lip. Thatâs why theyâre always so chapped.â
You scoff. âDid you come to insult me?â
âIt wasnât an insult,â he answers. âIt was the truth.â
âLike the truth that Iâm not even a fire medium, huh?â you say.
At that, Captain Chu sighs. âLook, I didnât come here because I wanted to fight. I came here to apologize.â
âBecause Major Ki told you to? Or was it because the Lieutenant herself ordered you to?â
âI came here on my own accord,â he answers. âWell, no. I was going to come here because Suhyun told me to. But Iâm here now because I want to.â
You raise your eyebrows. But when you donât say anything, Captain Chu takes it as an invitation to continue.
âI know Iâve been an asshole towards you.â
You pet Heli, silently agreeing. But it seems as if Captain Chu has come to you waving a white flag. Itâs his way of atonement, you suppose.
âI donât have a good excuse for it. And I canât tell you the real reason for it, either. Captain Yoo, you know, Sungho would kill me for even being here in the first place. Butââ he pauses. âButâŚâ
âBut?â
âMy parents are dead. Sister, too. Got the message a week ago. And I know. I know youâre wondering, âhow the fuck does that have anything to do with this?â But itâs been hard, okay? I wasnât the⌠I wasnât the best son. Or the best brother.â
This is the first time youâve seen Captain Chu be so introspective. Itâs rather shocking. But you could get used to this.
âAraâs supposed to be the land of healers, for Soohtâs sake!â Captain Chu says. âI donât know what the fuck happened there with that damned disease outbreak. It makes me think if I wasnât born as a fucking fire medium in Ara, maybe I wouldâve been there to heal them. Maybe theyâd still be alive.â
He glances at you, but you stare at him in silence, wordlessly telling him to go on.
âWhen I was younger, I wanted to be the best soldier Solaria would ever see,â he says. âSuhyun inspired me to be better, and we moved to Alder together to begin our dreams. But there was always something missing. I always had something missing. Iâve been thinking about what that could be for years. And it hit me in the past few days. You know what it is?â
âWhat?â you whisper.
âTragedy,â he answers.
âTragedy,â you repeat slowly, weighing the word in your head. âIt makes sense. The more you lose, the more you want to sacrifice yourself.â
Captain Chu nods. âStrangely enough, I knew youâd understand.â He smiles, though itâs one of those sad onesâthe ones that donât really reach your eyes. âThe best soldiers are the ones who have nothing to lose.â
It takes you a second to comprehend what he said. And it takes you another second for you to realize heâd complimented you.
âI can never be the best soldier in Solaria,â Captain Chu says. âItâs my childhood dream, but some dreams arenât meant to come true. Because Iâve still got my girlfriend, and the Darlaeans are going to have to put me through hell for me to give her up. Iâve lost my family, but Iâm not going to lose her. It makes me weaker than you. It makes me weaker than most soldiers in that fucking tent of ours. But you know what, Officer? I donât fucking care. And Iâm sorry I was an asshole. I shouldnât have taken my problems out on you. But I will admit, you were seriously suspicious when I first met you.â
You nod, a small smile beginning to form on your lips. âSo Iâve heard.â You reach out to pet Heli again. âThanks, Captain Chu. Youâve put things in perspective for me.â
He really has. Now you know who he really is: an ambitious man with big dreams. A man who wanted to be Solariaâs strongest but fell in love and found his weakness. A man who is fiercely loyal to those he loves, and you just donât happen to be in that circle. A man who canât tell you the real reason heâd been a complete brat toward you. But a man who can admit that you are a better soldier than he isâwhen you arenât even a fire medium.
âGood,â he says. He quickly stands up, brushing off the grass from his uniform. Itâs a little awkward as he stares down at you. âErm⌠I donât go around spewing out my life story to anyone, you know,â he says. âSo you better not go spread the news that Captain Chu is a big olâ softie, all right?â
His words make you smile. âAll right,â you promise.
âAnd Officer Ryu?â
âYes?â
âFire sols donât just stick around people who donât know anything about their element,â he says. âYouâre going to be a fire medium soon. I just know it.â
You nod, scratching Heli behind his ear. âThanks.â
âSoâŚâ Captain Chu says, rocking on the balls of his feet. Itâs quite hilarious seeing such an intimidating-looking man look so awkward. âIâll see you in the next officer meeting?â
âYes, I suppose you will.â
He gives you another short look before marching away. You watch him go, cocking your head.
âAn interesting encounter, wasnât it?â you tell the tiger.
He huffs, agreeing with you.
âThe best soldiers are the ones who have nothing to lose,â you repeat. âWell then, Heli,â you say with a smile. âIt looks like Iâve gotta be Solariaâs best soldier.â
But first, youâre going to have to learn to wield fire.
âWhat a surprising meeting,â Captain Im says to you as the two of you walk out of the central tent. She thoughtfully twists a strand of her hair around her finger, the rest of it cascading down her back. âIt looks like Captain Yangâs theory was right after all.â
âBut what could the Darlaeans get out of threatening the General?â you say. âAnd didnât you think the code was just a little too on the nose this circa, Nayoon? The other ones were a little more cryptic. âGeneralâ is easy. Maybe even deceptively easy.â
âOr maybe weâre thinking too hard,â Captain Im smiles. âWe deserve some rest, Y/N. We spent a while theorizing in that tent just now. Oh, look, and it looks like the fire sol is waiting for you.â
Sheâs right. Heli sits just a couple of tents away, his eyes squinted as he happily greets your presence. You smile.
âHe probably wants another belly rub,â you say, and Captain Im laughs.
âThen Iâll leave you to it,â she says. âI need to catch up on some air medium training, anyway.â
Soon, youâre left with Heli, and you reach over to scratch behind his ear. âIsnât Nayoon so diligent?â
Heli huffs as if to agree.
âThey all are, really. The officers, I mean. And guess what? Captain Chu asked me my opinion today in the tent. Itâs stupid, but I felt validated. I guess he really does take a while to come around.â
Heli noses your leg and looks far off into the forest.
âA ride?â you say. âAt this hour? Itâs nearly dark.â
The tiger squints his eyes, his tail curling around you as if to charm you into agreeing with him.
âI have to organize some filesâŚâ
He hisses playfully, standing up and sauntering a few steps away from you. Itâs as if heâs chastising you for putting your officer duties over him.
âI can take you on a short walk along the edge of the forest,â you say. âHow about that?â
Heli seems to like your compromise. He comes crawling back to you, nuzzling you before leading you away to the edge of the forestâthe place where youâd first met him.
You feel safe, walking by his side, his bright fur illuminating the areas around you and casting shadows that dance like the flames of a blazing fire. You could do this for hours, actually. And you doâthough youâd promised Heli for a short walk. In the end, he gets more than heâd bargained for.
The sky begins to shed the colors of a vivid sunset, leaving a dark horizon to look up to. Itâs nighttime now, and the crickets have come out to sing their nightly songs, the fireflies forming tiny constellations in the air.
Heli is a very loyal companion who listens to your every word. Soon, you find yourself sharing your thoughts to the fire sol, and heâs attentive as always, reacting to everything you say with a supportive swish of his tail or a contemplative huff.
âI donât know how one learns to wield an element,â you confess to him. âBut Iâm sure there are ways. Maybe there are texts about it. Or mentors in Elu? Either way, do you think I should ask the General about it?
Heli huffs happily.
âI should, huh? Maybe after the next officer meeting? Or do you think Iâm just procrastinating at that point?â
Heli lets out a small snort.
âOkay, fine. Iâll do it tomorrow.â
The tiger lets out a happy cry. You pet him, glad to have someone so supportive by your side. âFlaming hell. Itâs really time that I become a fire medium.â
And before Heli can even react enthusiastically, you hear a familiar voice:
âIâll teach you, you know.â
âOh, for Soohtâs sake, sir!â You nearly jump in the air. âAre you following me around?â
âNo,â the General answers too quickly. âBut I did come to you with an offer.â
âYou said you would teach me, sir?â you say. âYou mean, youâre going to teach me how to wield fire?â
âNo, Iâm going to teach you how to fly. Of course Iâm going to teach you how to wield fire, Officer.â
You grin, shaking your head in utter disbelief. âI appreciate your sarcasm, sir.â
âI appreciate yours as well.â
âBut you do mean it, sir, do you? Youâre really going to teach me? Youâre personally going to help me become a fire medium?â
âI didnât know it was something that needed so much clarification,â he says with a teasing lilt to his voice. âDo you have a reason to be so incredulous?â
âItâs justâŚâ You breathe out, your heart thumping in your chest. âIt feels so unbelievable, sir. Iâm finally going to be a real soldier.â
He scoffs, though he still looks at you with a certain fondnessâa professional fondness, might you add. âYou were always a real soldier, Officer,â he says. âFire wielding or not.â The General clears his throat when he sees the hundreds of emotions flashing before your face. âWeâll begin now, if you donât mind.â
âNow??â you say, eyes widening. âNow?â
âI thought I saw the urgency in your eyes, Officer. Was I incorrect?â
âNo, sir, not at all! Itâs just⌠I donât know how any of this works. Are you going to make me pray to the spirits? Do I have to consume flames? Must I walk through a bed of hot coals? Are there tests I need to pass to be connected with fire? Have I met some qualifications yet? I just want to be ready for anything.â
The General cocks his head. âI see youâve given this a lot of thought.â
âAlmost embarrassingly, sir,â you say.
âBut itâs much simpler than you might think, Officer.â
âIt is?â
âConnecting with an element requires the cooperation of your mind and spirit,â the General says. He clasps his hands behind his back, his posture slouching as usual. âItâs a process that may take a few minutes to several circas. Sometimes even years.â
âHow long did it take for you, sir?â
âI was born with an innate connection with fire as descendants of the Min Clan are,â he explains. âBut I connected with water and air when I was three. Connected with earth when I was five.â
âImpressive, sir.â
âIâm glad someone thinks so.â
You raise your eyebrows.
âBut the point is, Officer, you must practice patience,â the General says. âThe elements are never in your control. They are the source, and you are only a medium. The key is to have an open mind, heart and spirit.â
âOpen mind, heart and spirit,â you echo. âWhat does that mean?â
The General nods. âLetâs sit down,â he says.
So the two of you settle on the grass, the twinkling stars in the dark sky staring down at you. It feels safe and cozy, just like the last time you and the General left the tents to have a conversation at the edge of the woods. Heli is by your side too, resting his head on his paws as he brightens the area with his orange flames.
You look at the General expectantly, wondering if there is a particular reason for the two of you to sit down.
âCross your legs,â he says. âAnd close your eyes.â
âClose my eyes, sir?â
âAre you afraid of the dark, Officer?â
âWell, no sir,â you say. âButâŚâ You swallow your words. No buts. Youâre going to do this. You want to.
Tentatively, your eyes flutter close. The last thing you see is the General, his delicate features illuminated by the soft moonlight.
Itâs not completely dark. With Heli by your side, you can sense a faint, orange glow coming from your left side. In fact, you can feel his warmth.
âFocus on my voice, now,â the General says in his husky voice.
And with your eyesight gone, for fuckâs sake, his voice sounds louder. He seems closer to you, too. Against your will, your heart flutters just a little. Or maybe itâs the passion trembling within you. Youâre not sure, but you manage a small: âYes, sir.â
âAnd try not to talk. Just listen.â
âYeââ You stop yourself and nod.
âBreathe in⌠Good. And breathe out. Thatâs it⌠You should be comfortableâŚâ
He pauses for a moment as if to assess your relaxation. When he deems youâre comfortable enough, he begins to speak again.
âNow, fire is the element of ambition,â the General says. âOnce you learn how to wield it, you will know great warmth and destruction at the same time. But you must learn to balance the two. Your desires, your wants, your motivations; focus on them, Officer. The spirits of fire want to see someone with their heart engulfed in flames.â
Your desires?
The best soldiers are the ones who have nothing to lose.
Your wants?
I fight for the end of this war.
Your motivations?
It must be because I enjoy your company.
Youâre going to be the best damn fire medium the Solarian Army has ever seen, thatâs what. You feel warm inside, the heat emanating from your own chest. Is this what the General had meant when he told you to open your heart?
âFeel the fire from within,â the General whispers. âItâs burning inside of you, but donât let it swallow you. Coexist with it,â he says. He feels so close to you.
No. You must focus.
The flames. You concentrate on the warmth building up in your chest, the raw passion you hold for this nation. The passion you have to become the best soldier in the army. To end the damn war once and for all. To become a fire medium. But to also learn to wield water, earth and air. You want to learn how to heal properly. You want to help Joon and Major Hyun tend to the garden. You want to fly kites in the air. You want to be like the Generalâconnected to all four of the elementsâand so in-tune with his connections that heâs able to teach others about it.
âNow, imagine the fire slowly spreading throughout your body,â the General says. âFeel it from the top of your head and to the tips of your toes.â
You do. The warmth is everywhere. But not once do you feel suffocated. Instead, you feel alive. The flames make your heart race and your mind whirr.
âSlowlyâtake your timeârest your hands on their backs⌠Thatâs itâŚâ
You imagine beautiful, blazing fires sitting at the palms of your hands. Theyâre small, but theyâre promisingâwisps of light amber and gold entangling together and flickering in the night. You can almost feel the light in your hands.
âComfortable?â a soft voice asks you.
You nod, completely in a trance.
âI want you to imagine holding fire in your two hands,â the General says. âImagine the warmth. Imagine the colors. Imagine the sensation. Focus all of your energy, the warmth in your body into your palms.â
Your visions amplify.
Oh.
Oh.
You can feel it.
A real warmth.
You gasp.
âShhâŚâ the General whispers. âLet yourself get used to the feeling.â
You can sense two new flamesâtwo new blazing lights so near the palm of your hands. You wish more than anything in the world right now to open your eyes and see them.
âYouâre going to feel a soft impact on your palms,â the General says. âWhen you feel it, open your eyes and look straight ahead. Donât look down.â
You nod.
And there it is.
You feel it.
But itâs not fire. Itâs not what you would expect to be the texture of flames.
Itâs skin.
And itâs warm. Soft.
Your eyes flutter open.
Oh.
Heâs so close.
If the light wasnât so dim, you could count his eyelashes. You can see the pretty slope of his nose, the sharpness of his eyes, his glowing lips. Your knees are touching too, but you donât dare look down. His dark eyes reflect the warm, dancing flames, and for a split second, you feel chills running down your spine.
His hands are on top of yours. His hands that hold fire.
âYouâre almost there,â he says.
His words echo in your mind.
Youâre almost there.
âIâm going to flip my hands over, soon,â he whispers. âAnd when I do, I want you to hold my flames.â
You nod.
Youâre almost there.
His voice, the warmth, the spirits, the magic. Youâre in a trance and you canât stop staring into his eyes.
âYouâre doing so wellâŚâ
Itâs then when you feel it.
Itâs so light without the weight of his hands.
Oh.
It undulates on your palmsâyou can feel it.
Itâs magical.
Your eyes widen, and the General notices it. He smiles.
âYouâve done it, Y/N.â
Slowly, you look down.
What you see before you is a sight that makes you want to cry tears of joy.
âFor Soohtâs sakeâŚâ you breathe out.
Your own hands. Carrying fire.
The flames lick at your skin, but theyâre friendly, only feeling warm and never unbearably hot.
âIâm doing itâŚâ
âYouâre doing it,â he repeats.
âFlaming hell,â you breathe, eyes sparkling with mirth as you stare at your hands, frozen in shock. âSir, if I cry, do you think itâll extinguish the fire?â
He laughs. âIf it does extinguish, I can help you light it again.â
Your lashes have come stuck to your face, wet from your glistening tears. âThis is beautiful, sir. I never thought connecting with an element would be so⌠so profound. I feel so light. Like the wind could whisk me away.â
âYou can hold it closer if you want,â the General answers. âIt wonât hurt you. Itâs a part of you.â
A part of you.
The thought makes the tears roll down your face. They feel so cold compared to the warmth youâre holding in your hands. Tentatively, you bring your hands together, conjoining the two fires into one. The General nods at you approvingly. You lift your hands close to your face, examining the flames wisping and curling upwards, hungry for more kindling.
It feels like what you would imagine coming home from a victorious battle feels like. It feels like reaching the top of a mountain of success. It feels like a tigerâs roar in the bright, early morning. It makes you want to jump up and cry out in the night air.
You flinch when you feel something soft brush against your leg. When you look down, you see Heli, nuzzling you. He looks proud, watching the fire in your hands intently. Itâs as if he wants to say, âYouâre just like me now.â
The warmth of the flames dries your tears and soon, you look up to the General, who has been watching you carefully with a soft look on his face.
âIt seems as though you have a lot of ambition, Officer,â he says quietly.
âI do,â you agree.
âChannel it into your fire wielding,â he says. âYour flames will only get stronger from here.â
âI want to wield all of the elements, sir,â you say. âDo you think that I can do it?â
The General raises his eyebrows. âIs that one of the ambitions you used to fuel your fire?â
âYes, sir.â
He hums. âWeâll see.â He steadily stands up, leaving you sitting down, cross-legged with a fire in your hands. âI think thatâs enough for one day,â he says. âYou can easily extinguish that by waving your hands.â
Your eyes widen, and your flames flicker for a moment, but you keep your hands still. âBut sir, I only just learned how to hold fire. I still need to learn how to make it. And Iâve seen soldiers create this gaseous fire sphere during their training. I want to learn how to do that too.â
The General adjusts his uniform, tugging at his collar. âOfficer, youâve undergone at least a dayâs worth of training in several minutes. I assure you, weâve got more than enough time. Itâs best to stop now and think later. Fire preys on doubt, Officer.â
And before you can react or say anything for that matter, the General gives you a nod of acknowledgment. âItâs getting late, and I promised some soldiers in the fifth sector that I would train them by nightfall.â
âO-Oh. I wouldnât want to steal their time,â you say, bringing your knees together in a more comfortable position.
The General nods and begins to turn away, but before he can leave, you thank him, your voice bubbling with awe and mirth at the same time. He pauses.
âMeet me here at 5 a.m. tomorrow,â he answers. âIf you would like to learn more about the works of fire.â
Then, he walks away. So casually. As if he hadnât just opened up a whole new world for you.
You sit, holding the fire close to you, guarding it.
âHeli, I donât think I can move,â you say. âIâm scared. I donât ever want this fire to go out.â
The tiger huffs, seeming to laugh at your predicament.
âItâs not funny!â you protest. âIâm serious! Do you think itâll be a massive fire hazard if I try to bring it in the tent with me?â
The tiger paws your leg.
You laugh. âI was only half-jokingâŚâ
But are you? Youâre terrified that you wonât ever be able to do this again. What if tomorrow when the General makes you do the same thing, you wonât be able to produce the same results? What if todayâs lesson was a fluke? Beginnerâs luck? What if fireâs not meant to be a part of you? What if it rejects you? What if it despises you for being so different than it last remembers? What if⌠what if you are a horrible fire medium?
The flames in your palm begin to flicker violently.
âOh!â Panic rushes into your veins. You scramble up, hands shaking as you stare at the fire threatening to extinguish.
And suddenly, your palms feel like theyâre going to burn.
âOh, fuck, thatâs hot!â
Damn it all to hell. You doubted yourself. You let your thoughts get ahead of you.
The General had warned you. And you had paid no mind.
Oh, how humiliating.
Your hands feel like theyâve caught on fireâbut the kind that melts your skin and sears your limbs off, if youâre not too careful. But you donât want to extinguish the flames. You canât. Sweat begins to drip down your face.
The fire is so scalding that your skin has gone cold.
You grit your teeth.
Heli whines, and he reaches forward to help, but you shake your head, tears pricking your eyes.
âNo, Heli, I can do it,â you say. âItâs⌠Itâs a part of me, remember? I can maintain it.â
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
Your eyes automatically close.
Think of your desires, wants, motivations.
An image of the General flashes in your mind.
Another deep breath in. And yet another deep breath out.
You try to ignore the prickling sensations in your hand and instead, focus your energy on the warmth in your heart. The warmth travels down your arms, spreads to your torso and the lower half of your body. You concentrate, trying to recall the Generalâs soothing words, replaying them back in your mind.
And finally, when you open your eyes, you see that the fire has settled back down.
âOh. I did it.â
Yet this triumph doesnât make you as happy as the last.
Quickly, you extinguish the flames by shaking your hands, only to wince at the stinging pain.
Heli noses your hands, and you turn them over, slightly trembling. He whines, his own flames dimming as he surveys your injuries.
âIâm okay, Heli,â you say, reassuring the sol, but you say it to reassure yourself as well. âItâs just a little redness. Itâll go away.â
The fire sol licks your hand.
You smile. âThanks.â
But thereâs no doubt about it.
Those are burn marks.
âGood morning, Officer.â
You shift your feet uncomfortably, looking down at the grass. âGood morning, sir.â
âQuite early isnât it?â he says. âBut I do admit, I must be a morning person. It makes me feel awake.â
âDoes it?â You crack a small smile. âIt does for me too, sir.â
âDid you have a good nightâs sleep, Officer?â he asks as he settles down on the grassâbut not before he somehow evaporates the morning dew away. He gestures for you to take a seat on the dry patch of grass.
âYes.â
No.
Youâve kept the palms of your hands hidden, having them face away from the General. The guilt of what happened last night is eating you alive. Will he denounce you for not being able to follow simple orders?
Itâs best to stop now and think later. Fire preys on doubt, Officer.
Yet you went ahead and doubted anyways.
And youâre still doubting now.
For Soohtâs sake, when will the cycle end?
âThen you must be ready for some more training.â
âI am, sir.â
Are you?
âI showed you the beauty of fire, yesterday, Officer,â the General says. He holds out his hand, and a blazing fire ignites on his palm. It bursts in color and flames all at once. But you find yourself flinching away. The General doesnât notice. He closes his hand, extinguishing the fire into smoke. âBut today, Iâll show you its destruction.â
You flinch again.
This time, the General does notice.
âItâs the balance of beauty and destruction that you must master to be a good fire medium,â he explains. âItâs nothing to be afraid about. If the fire is a part of you, it wonât hurt you.â
The guilt is nearly eating you alive.
âNow, hold out your palm.â
You freeze.
âMy⌠my palm, sir?â
The General cocks his head. Then, he notices your rigid posture, your alert eyes and your hands that you are keeping hidden away from him.
âMay I see your hands, Officer?â
Youâre shaken.
The sharp tingling is back.
âI-I⌠I swear⌠I didnât mean toâŚâ
âItâs all right,â he says. âLemme see.â
Hesitantly, you bring your hands forward, the tension snapping when you turn them over.
âAh,â the General says. But he hides his shockâif he even had anyâquite well. âIt must hurt, doesnât it?â
âIt feels a little pricklyâŚâ
âNothing some care, attention and Incha wouldnât fix,â he says. âIt should heal in 2 daysâ time.â
âI can still train, right?â you say. âIt doesnât hurt very much, and it was a mistake last night, sir, I swear on Soohtâs head. I was overthinking, and I know you told me fire preys on doubt, but I was stupid and I just⌠I got in my head,â you say. âIâm sorry.â
âThereâs no need to apologize,â the General says. âIn fact, Iâm glad we got over this today. The earlier you learn this lesson, the better it will be for your wielding. As for training?â He pauses. âWell, weâll only continue if you desire so.â
âOf course I want to, sir!â
He nods. âBut for the time being, youâre forbidden to draw your battle plans. Not until your hands get better.â When he sees your mortified expression, he tries to explain: âItâs best not to irritate the skin.â
âSir, Iâm just worried that at this rate, Iâll never be able to draw my plans.â What if you have nothing to show for the next officer meeting? âIâm okay with the pain, but I donât think I can stand burning my hands every time I train. How will I tend to my other duties?â
You wanted to become a fire medium to fight. To become a better officer. Turns out, learning how to be a fire medium might just make you into a worse officer.
âDonât worry,â the General says. âBurns are quite common in early fire mediums, but as your connection with the element grows stronger, youâll gain unbreakable confidence. But your burns, Officer,â he says, examining your hands. âTheyâre not severe at all. Wonât even be affected by some more fire training. It looks like youâve befriended the fire after you let it take over. It wonât hurt you again.â A small pause. âItâs within you, you know.â
âFire, sir?â
âYes, figuratively and literally. Youâre not afraid of it, are you?â
âNo, sir. Iâm just afraid of failure.â
âEveryone is,â he answers. âYour fear is universal, Officer. But donât let that fear distract you from what you can be.â
âYes, sir!â
âGood,â the General answers with a smile. âWe wonât have to go over fireâs destruction. It looks like youâre well-acquainted with that. But you see what I was saying, now, donât you?â
âBeauty and destruction, sir,â you say. âThey go hand in hand.â
âYes,â he says. âBut when you wield fire, you do not focus on the beauty nor the destruction. You focus on yourself. So today, I want you to focus on a single thought. A single thought that ignites your whole being. A reason that you breathe, Officer. Do you understand?â
âYes, sir,â you say.
You half expect for the General to tell you to close your eyes again, but to your surprise, he unhurriedly gets up to his feet.
âSir?â
Is he going to leave you to your thoughts?
âIâll be back, Officer. But I want you to think. Find the reason you live for.â
Heâll be back? But where is he going?
Contrary to your thoughts, you mutter an acknowledgment, and you watch as he walks away.
Will he leave you for hours? Is he testing you? Does he want to see if your thoughts will become twisted in time? Or⌠Or does he genuinely have to leave? Run a short errand and get you started on your training at the same time?
You shake your head, taking in a deep breath.
Itâs time to placate your mind, your thoughts, your worries.
Youâre to focus on yourself.
To find a reason that you breathe.
What do you breathe for?
Your eyes close automatically.
Well, you breathe to live. How else will you get air into your lungs? But there must be a reason that you continue to breatheâa reason that surpasses your bodyâs instincts.
What if there are too many?
You breathe to see a new day because waking up early in the morning invigorates you. You breathe to watch the sunrise painting the sky in soft, delicate colors. You breathe to add your part to the Solarian Army, to be the best officer that you can be. You breathe to meet your dear friends just one more time before theyâre whisked away to battleâtheir fates determined by the spirits. You breathe to see Solaria. You breathe to see the sunset, the nightfall, the General.
And most importantly, you breathe to see the end of the war.
Thatâs it.
Thatâs the single thought that makes your body go up in flames.
Because from the moment you awoke, everything youâve done so far has been for one thing: for the war. To win the war. To end it.
So this must be the reason you breathe.
This is also the reason you want to be a fire medium.
You feel warm all over, a fire settling in your heart.
And when you open your eyes, ready to greet the morning sky, you see the General has come back. You were so concentrated that you hadnât even heard him settle down on the ground.
He raises an eyebrow, resting his hands on his lap. âI see youâve come up with your single reason.â
âYes, sir.â
âGood,â he says. âBut before we continue, weâll do something about those hands.â
When you look down, you realize the General had neatly splayed a gauze roll, a bowl of Incha and a container of a greenish ointment that looks unfamiliar to you.
Oh. So he had left to get these supplies. Itâs considerate of him to do so, but youâre not surprised. This is the General youâve always admired. Of course he would do something like this.
âIâll take care of it,â he says, reaching for the bowl of dark green liquid.
âThatâs a lot of Incha,â you say. âWill I have to drink all of that?â
The General shakes his head. âItâs for you to rest your hands in,â he says. âIt works for burn wounds. My sister figured it out years back.â
You give him a surprised look. Heâs never talked about his family first, and you never expected him to bring it up so casually, either. âWas she a healer?â you ask.
âNo, she wasnât.â
At his curt answer, youâre unsure if you shouldâve pried at all.
âShe was my motherâs lieutenant after my father passed.â
âOh⌠Iâm⌠Iâm sorry, sir.â You try to gauge his countenance. Is he masking his real emotions behind a stoic expression? Or is he so numb from carrying the burden of the Min Clan that he canât feel anything at all?
Yoongi feels nothing.
Or so he likes to think.
In truth, his sister passed away from the exact thing that she found a cure for. Every time he sees a burn wound, heâs reminded of her. And he revisits the pain he had felt when he first realized she no longer existed in this world.
âSir?â
Heâd spaced out.
Funny. Usually, itâs you who is always living in your own world.
âLetâs fix you up,â he answers, brushing off the concerned look in your eyes.
Diligently, he cleanses your hands in the dark green tea, making sure to use his most delicate touch. He canât imagine how afraid you mustâve been yesterday. He shouldâve stayed until he saw you put out the fire. He shouldâve given you a clearer warning. Something about those burns on your hands feels like theyâre his fault.
He tries to ignore the intimate proximity between the two of you. But itâs hard when you stare so blatantly at him, trying to read him with your curious eyes.
âMust you always try to read me like Iâm a book?â he comments absent-mindedly.
But his words seem to have shocked you as well because you flinch a little in his grasp. âS-Sorry, sir,â you say, clearly embarrassed.
But he didnât want an apology. He didnât mean to call you out like that, either.
And when he feels your eyes look away, for some inexplicable reason, he wants them back.
He gently lifts your hands from the bowl, and he holds them in his. Almost instantly, your wet hands begin to dry from the warmth emanating from his skinâa trick his mother had taught him to battle the cold, wintry winds of Alder.
He then uncaps the container of aloe ointmentâone that his homesector proudly produces. And tenderly, he begins to rub the cool gel onto the palms of your hands.
Heâs done this to so many other people, heâs lost count.
So why does this feel so different?
Silently, he wraps the gauze around your hands, taking meticulous care not to bind them too tightly. And when heâs finished, he carefully sets your hands down on your knees.
âChange the gauze twice more today,â he says. âBut you should be fine to begin using your hands normally in a day, now.â
âSir, if you werenât the General of the Army, you would make a fantastic healer.â
The corners of his lips tug upward. âWhy, thank you. Do you feel better?â
âMy hands feel⌠refreshed,â you say, then you laugh a little. âIs that weird to say? That my hands feel refreshed?â
Yoongi shakes his head. âNot at all.â
âSo I can train now?â
âYes, Officer. You can train.â
Your eyes light up, but as soon as he notices, you close them shut, shifting your position and placing your hands on your knees, palms up.
âIâm ready,â you say.
He smiles.
He can almost feel your eagerness.
âDeep breath inâŚâ he says. âAnd deep breath out.â
You do as he says, and he canât help but notice in the morning light how peaceful you look.
âThis is about you,â he says. âThis is about nothing but your ambitions and your reason to live. So think about that single, intense thought. How does it make you feel? What does it make you see?â
He watches your expressions contort.
âYou can answer me,â he says.
âI feel⌠the warmth of a hearth. As if Iâm sitting right next to it.â
âIs that what you see? You, sitting near a hearth?â
âNo, sirâŚâ Your voice sounds dreamyâlike youâre recalling the moments of a lovely vision. âI see⌠No, I feel it, sir. The war is over. Oh⌠Oh, sir. I see Alder, and it looks beautiful without the tents. Just flat land and wild grass stretching on and on. Itâs wonderful. I wish you could see it.â
âAnd where are you, amidst this, Officer?â
âIâmâŚâ Your nose scrunches as you think. âIâm with Heli. Oh! Iâm racing through Alder on his back. And I see anotherâŚâ you trail off, and he wonders why. But before he can ask, you inhale deeply, continuing your thought. âI can smell flowers and fresh rain, sir. Itâs⌠Itâs almost as if Iâm really there.â
You have quite an impressive imagination.
âAnd where are you headed, Officer?â he asks, softly, carefully. He doesnât want to wake you up from your dream.
âTowards⌠Iâm not sure what it is sir,â you say, forehead wrinkling. âIt feels warm, though. Oh, and I can feel its presence. Itâs⌠Oh. Iâm riding towards the sun, sir. But it looks different.â
âHow so?â he whispers.
âItâs so close⌠And itâs red with flames.â
âAnd youâre riding straight towards it?â
âYes, sir.â
âWhat do you feel, Officer?â
âMy hands feel warm, sir. It must be because Iâm gripping Heliâs fur,â you say. âIf I gripped any harder, I might accidentally pull out a chunk of it.â
He smiles with amusement. âYour hands feel warm, Officer?â
âYes, sir. So warm.â
âOpen your eyes, Y/N. Youâve done it again.â
As your eyes slowly open, your jaw simultaneously drops.
âO-Oh. Oh. For Soohtâs sake⌠Oh, flaming hell!â
He watches the flames flickering in your hands. Theyâre the brightest heâs ever seen a beginner ever make. Thereâs something about that raw passion of yours that is beyond special.
âYou made that yourself,â he says.
âSir, I canât believe it!â
He almost wants to utter, âme neither.â
Never in his life has he seen someone so easily connect with fire. But maybe your spirit is remembering something your mind and body cannot. This is simply a reconnection. And even so, your absolute wonder is contagious, and he stares at your flames with a bit of astonishment and a hint of pride.
You bring your hands closer. âBeautifulâŚâ
He agrees.
âI want to remind you that these are just the basics, Officer. Holding and creating fire are the very first steps,â he says. âWe will meet here every day at the same time to continue your training.â
Heâs never seen you look happier.
âThank you, sir! Thank you so much.â
And youâve never seen his face light up so much.
But to be completely honest, you didnât tell him all of your visions. How can you? That would be quite embarrassing.
Because riding with you, into the sun, was a familiar man with a shockingly shitty posture on a transparent, white horse. A man who you clearly recognized, but would never admit his identity out loud.
â§â§Circa Aquamarineâ§â§
Yoongi wakes up to his muscles aching. Either heâs growing old or his rigorous training back when his family was alive has finally caught up to him.
Yoongi also wakes up to find a steaming hot meal of his favorite dishes laid out before him. Who couldâve done such a thing? And who would feel comfortable enough to walk into his tent unannounced to deliver him such a breakfast?
The only answer he can think of is Doyun.
The second thing he wonders is⌠why?
Until it dawns on him.
Itâs his birthday today.
So he wasnât imagining the aging at all. But is this what being 29 makes you feel? And what does age matter, anyway? Itâs depressing. His older sister of five years never got to live a day past 25. And Yoonsoo never even reached his 20s.
Itâs been a decade since he lost both his mother and sister, but he remembers it like it was yesterday.
What a delightful way to start his birthday.
But Yoongi sighs, getting up from his futon, padding over to the tray full of food. It looks absolutely delicious, and heâll have to remember to thank Doyun later. She must be so busy, tooâtraining, training others, double-checking battle plans and unit formations. But she always makes time to care for others.
Today is also the day of the code evaluations for this circa. He wonders what new word youâve deciphered this time could be. And will you tell the officers what you really think of it?
Youâre always holding back. Or so he notices. Heâs not sure why. Heâd worked so hard to foster an environment amongst his officers where everyone is comfortable enough to speak their mind. But why do you always hesitate? And why do you listen more than you speak?
He wants to hear you. And heâs sure the other officers are curious about your words as well.
Youâre quite talkative when youâre with him. He likes spending mornings with you, training just as the sun shyly peeks from the horizon. No matter how early he gets there, youâre always there first, practicing whatever he had taught you the day before. And no matter how late he retreats to his tent, he sees you out there again, with the fire tiger, lighting up the night sky with your flames.
And in that way, youâve improved at an astonishing pace.
Youâve learned what most people take half a year to master in approximately one circa.
Sometimes, he wonders if you get any sleep.
Other times, he wonders if your ambition staves off any possible fatigue that you might have.
Every day at the end of your lesson, you ask him hopefully, eyes twinkling, if youâre ready to train with the other soldiers. And every day, he answers no.
Thereâs something about the way that you wield your fire that exhales beauty but shuns destruction. That would never work on a battlefield. Yet he doesnât necessarily want you to learn how to destruct as a fire medium, either. He finds your flames absolutely enchanting. Youâve found a way to bend the wisps of flames as if they are silk, the colors fluttering in harmony with the breeze that greets the air. Heâs never seen anything like it before.
Your passion and intense ardor donât go unnoticed by others, either. He watches as more and more of his officers begin to accept you into their lives. He watches as you leave officer meetings with different people, smiling brightly and conversing with them with a glint in your eye. And he watches you now, in todayâs meeting, listening quietly to what the others have to say.
In a way, youâre a little like him. He never liked thinking on the spot. It takes him time to process information, to filter through all the possible alternatives, to give an order that he knows he wonât regret. He prefers to listen. Because that way, he can heed a little bit of everyoneâs advice and opinions. Because that way, he would lead for his soldiers and not himself.
ââsir?â
Well, thatâs embarrassing. Heâd missed the entire first half.
âYes?â he answers, almost sheepishly, but he manages to keep his expression stoic (from years and years of practice).
âI asked if you know anyone with the surname, âKwang,â sir,â Captain Im says. âWeâre not quite sure if this code pertains to Captain Yangâs theory.â
Of course. âKwangâ is the new code.
Captain Yangâs theory that the Darlaean message is a blatant attack on Yoongi seems to be rather popular in the tent. Almost everyone but a couple of officers believes in it. It makes him all the more disheartened to admit:
âI donât,â he says.
âI told you,â Captain Chang sighs. âThe Kwang Clan perished before most of us were even born.â
âI didnât even know we had a Kwang Clan in the first place,â Major Lee says, scratching his head. âDoes this mean Captain Yangâs theory is out the window?â
Captain Yang bows his head. âI apologize for suggesting something faulty.â
âIt was a smart theory,â Major Hyun consoles him. âIt just didnât happen to be the answer.â
âSo what is the answer?â Captain Im says.
Everyone is silent.
Captain Im is usually the one answering the questions, and without her on the other side, no one wants to reply.
You take the silence as a sign to think harder than before.
âKwangâ throws you off. First, the Darlaeans send a code that is an object. Then, they send an action, followed by a number. And now, a surname? Nothing makes sense. Itâs like theyâre checking off a giant list of the most random things that they can find. Jewel, usurp, 19, Kwang⌠It makes you revisit the thought youâve had almost since the very beginningâthe one that had lasted until Circa Garnet.
This could be a message.
This could be a message for just one person. These words mean nonsense to you, but what if it should make sense? Just not to you? Why would the Darlaeans risk losing the war by repeating the same attack patterns to spell out monocode that translates into seemingly arbitrary words? There is a large possibility that they didnât expect every officer in the Solarian Army to pick up on it. Maybe the message is supposed to be interpreted differently. Maybe it wasnât for every officer to uncover. Maybe it was just for one person to read and act upon it. Alone. MaybeâŚ
You canât help the words threatening to bubble out of your throat.
âMaybe thereâs a spy.â
Every officer in the tent turns to look at you. Even the most stoic ones have horrified expressions on their faces.
You canât believe what just came out of your mouth. That is an incredibly large accusation to makeâone that could split everyone apart or turn everyone against you. As youâre struggling to comprehend what youâve just done, the General quickly cuts in.
âAnd what makes you think that, Officer?â
âWell⌠um,â you say, trying not to let the stares from the other officers distract you too much. âThat could explain why we canât make sense of the code, sir. Why the Darlaeans would risk losing the war by giving away their attack patterns. They didnât expect us to know monocode. And they were right, werenât they?â you say. âMaybe their message is for one person and one person only. What if weâre decoding their message to their spy?â
âAnd are you implying that the spy is standing in this room right now?â the General asks.
Your eyes nervously sweep across the officers around the large table. You look down. âI would suspect so.â
âHa!â Captain Goe laughs. âSo are we going to rip each otherâs throats trying to find the culprit?â He takes a swig from his gourd. âBy the way, happy birthday, General. What beautiful news your officer has gifted you on your special day.â
Maybe you shouldnât have said such a polarizing thing on the Generalâs birthday. Now heâs going to have to deal with the aftermath, and you have an inkling that it isnât going to be pretty.
âWe will keep this meeting civil,â the General firmly says. âAnd thank you. Though the âpresentâ that Officer Ryu has announced for all of us must be taken seriously, we will not point fingers at each other just yet.â
âItâs less likely, but the spyâif they existâcould also be a soldier,â Captain Im pipes up.
âAnd whoâs to say the spy isnât a healer, either?â Major Lee says.
âAnd if there is a spy, when did they join the army? Why did they wait until now to begin something?â
âTheyâre planning somethingâŚâ
âItâs something big.â
âItâs terrifying to think about,â Major Ki says, âbut if there really is a spyâor even, spiesâhow would we catch them?â
âMost likely, we canât,â Major Ahn says. âIf we began interrogating everyone, the spy would get suspicious. And if the spy is standing in this room right now, they already know.â
âOr the spy suggested the idea so she could go under the radar.â
Everyone turns to look at who had spoken. And to everyoneâs surprise, itâs Captain Yoo.
Though his face is completely stoic, his eyes bore into yours, and if you werenât so conscious about the way he was looking at you, you wouldâve stepped back from the intimidation.
âWe shouldnât be pointing fingers,â Captain Chu saysâalso to everyoneâs surprise. Even you stare at him, eyes wide. Had he just defended you?
Captain Yoo sighs. âBut when did the messages begin? Soon after she came into our meetings. Memory loss, inability to wield the elements, suspiciously clairvoyant battle plans⌠Isnât it so convenient?â
âHe has a pointâŚâ Captain Chang says.
âIâve been thinking that too.â
âIt actually makes perfect sense.â
âWhy didnât we think of this earlier?â
You watch as several officers pitch in to accuse you of spying for the Darlaeans. Youâre rendered speechless. You knew that there was a possibility that suggesting the existence of a spy would make you look suspicious, but you didnât think Captain Yoo of all people would be the first to suggest it. You were never his friend, but all that time you spent together with the water clock duty⌠It had meant nothing to him.
âConvenience, Captain Yoo, does not equal suspicion,â the Lieutenant speaks up. She puts a supportive hand on your shoulder. âWe will not punish Officer Ryu for bringing to the table a theory that no one else dared to say out loud. We will also not punish her for the injuries she acquired fighting in the third sector.â
âAnd havenât you heard?â Major Lee says, giving Captain Yoo a nasty look. âSheâs a fire medium now. Maybe someone should check their facts before pointing fingers.â
âSir, you canât just let someone with such an enigmatic past fly under your radar,â Captain Yoo says, addressing the General. âThis needs to be investigated.â
The Generalâs brows twist in deep thought. âIn theory, everyone must be investigated. We cannot single out Officer Ryu because she has lost her memories. So, Captain Yoo, it will be up to you. If you want to investigate Officer Ryu, you and everyone else in this tent must be investigated as well. What will it be?â
Captain Yoo arches an eyebrow. âI suppose it is only fair that everyone else is interrogated along with her.â
âInterrogated?â Captain Im says, eyes wide. âW-Weâre not⌠weâre not going to be given Hyoscine, are we?â
âWe only use that for our war prisoners,â Captain Bak says, casually fixing her bangs away from her face. âUnless Captain Yoo wants to accuse Officer Ryu of being a prisoner of war, we wonât be given Hyoscine.â
âCaptain Bak is right,â the Lieutenant says. âWe will not be using Hyoscine on anyone in this tent. Itâs too dangerous, and we canât risk memory loss for our officer again.â
âAnd how will you know she isnât lying straight through her teeth?â Captain Chang asks.
âBecause weâve been winning the war since she came to us with her battle plans,â the General answers. Captain Chang visibly shrinks back at the authority of the Generalâs voice. âI find it hard to believe that Officer Ryu would suggest that there is a spy in our midst if she really were the spy. She would anticipate that people would find her the most suspicious, given that some of us in this tent havenât been so kind to her in the past.
âShe said what was on her mind because she believed it was urgent. And it is only fair that we consider this theory because ignoring it could be detrimental, and the reasoning behind this theory is quite sound.
âWith that said, the Lieutenant and I will be commencing investigationsânot to be confused with interrogations. Rest assured, we will not be using Hyoscine, but we will ask that everybody be honest and truthful.
âThe investigations will be a precaution, and we will not accuse anyone of being a spy until we find compelling evidence. There is a large chance that everyone in this room is innocent. And an even larger chance that there is no spy at all.
âWe will begin the investigations in the next circa,â the General says. His hand grazes the wooden table, and when he looks up, his sharp eyes meet yours. âPlease prepare yourselves to answer any personal questions. The investigations will be at random.â A small pause. âYou are dismissed.â
Seconds after the Generalâs last words, everyone stays frozen. Itâs quite a lot of information to take in. Your head is absolutely reeling with thoughts. How will you answer personal questions if you cannot remember the answers? Should you not have announced this theory in front of a group where the spy could potentially be hiding in? And why will some officers never be satisfied with what you do? It makes you think. There had been a vote to keep you in the officer meetings nearly five circas ago, and only nine people had voted in your favor. Could it be that there are still some officers here, waiting for your downfall? Could it be that some officers have always suspected you were a spy? Can nothing you do prove your innocence?
Soon, the officers realize that the General had dismissed them and they begin to trickle out of the tent. Too soon, you, the Lieutenant and the General are the only ones left.
âI shouldnât have said that there was a spy,â you say, looking at your feet. âIâm sorry. And I especially shouldnât have said something so controversial on your birthday, sir.â
The General shakes his head. âMy birthday is nothing compared to strategizing to win the war. Iâm glad you spoke up today, Officer.â
âI didnât know Captain Yoo wasnât so fond of you,â Doyun says, frowning. âHe practically threw you under. As if he was waiting for you to mess up.â
âItâs fine, I guess,â you say, offering her a tight smile. âHe was just trying to look out for Solaria.â
âYoongi, do you really think one of our officers could be a spy?â Doyun asks.
The General sighs. âI donât know.â
Doyun sighs at the Generalâs elusive answer and turns to you. âYou look tired, Y/N.â She looks worried. âDonât go fainting on me, again.â
It must be from the stress thatâs started to creep up after Captain Yooâs and many othersâ accusations.
âIâll be fine,â you reassure her. âIâve just been training hard, these days.â
She nods as if to understand. âMake sure to take care of yourself occasionally, okay?â
âI will.â You let a small smile slip through. âOh, and sir?â you say.
The General raises his head, almost perking up at the sound of you addressing him. âYes, Officer?â
âI hope you enjoyed the birthday breakfast Doyun and I made for you this morning,â you say with a soft smile.
And with that, you walk out of the tent with Doyun laughing at Yoongiâs shocked expression and Yoongi, in turn, unable to contain a bright smile lighting up his eyes.
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⨰ a/n: i have finally made a character list! it includes the characters' name, age, mbti, allegiance, magic and more! feel free to reference it whenever you forget who a character is! (or if you just want to see if anyone has the same mbti type as you LOL)
please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!
⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nationâotherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.
⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15
⨰ warnings: profanity, death of minor characters, very brief mention of suicide
⨰ wordcount: 6.7k
⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)
⨰ a/n: your support and help means so much to me @the-berry-named-ari! thank you for beta-reading once again <3
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â§â§Circa Garnetâ§â§
Itâs a new year.
A fresh start, a novel beginning, the end of the truce and the commencement of battles.
For the most part, things havenât changed. The tasks are the sameâtending to the wounded, participating in officer meetings, creating battle plans⌠But if something did change, you can confidently say that it was you.
Maybe it was your first extended conversation with the General. Youâve spent so much time with him, yet it has never felt like you really got to know him. That night, you learned that you and the General have more in common than you thought. But knowing more about the General also opened up more doors of mystery. Why does he have nothing to lose as you do? What past has shaped him to want to fight for Solariaâs freedom? Why does he not believe in love and war? And why wonât he tell you why he thinks youâre peculiar?
Or maybe it was meeting the fire tiger. Youâve never felt so safe, so secure, so warm at the same time. Youâre not sure what brought the sol to find you, but you thank the spirits that it had happened.
And besides, it doesnât really matter whether the reason was the General or the tiger; something that night had prompted you to feel like you were reborn. And now, for the first time, you feel like you.
âY/N!!!â Hana shrieks, running toward you at breakneck speed. She takes you in a bear hug, jumping up and down while attempting to spin you in circles. âI got back two weeks ago! How come I havenât seen you until now?? I missed you so much! I had the time of my life back home, but for Soriâs sake, I couldnât stop thinking about my duties back here! I was so glad to be back! And now to meet my friend!â
You laugh, bringing your arms around to brace her. âDid you eat all the bread you wanted to back home?â
âYou know I did! Father made his homemade special holiday acorn bread, which I ate for nine days straight!â Hana sings. âI set aside some to save for you, but my siblings decided to surprise me with an empty platter the night before I left,â she sighs, shaking her head. âThey send you their formal apologies. Oh! And did I tell you? I have a boyfriend now,â she says, dreamily. âHe says heâs going to wait for me until I get to go home again. Isnât it amazing?â she sighs happily. âI think Iâm in love.â
âIn love?â you ask, eyes wide. âFlaming hell, Hana! Iâm so happy for you! Tell me everything! Who confessed first?â
âOf course I did!â Hana snorts. âHe was too shy. Maybe itâs âcause Iâve known him since we were both three. I might have gotten a little drunk, though, before the confession, that is. Either way, it was perfect, Y/N. I didnât know it was possible to feel this happy. Heâs an earth medium, you know, and he made me the prettiest garden of flowers right outside my windowsill! Roses and tulips and carnations!â
You smile. âIâm really happy for you. It sounds so romantic, Hana.â
âOh, it was,â she grins. âWeâre gonna send each other love letters every circa. I was actually going to send you a letter, Y/N!â Hana laughs. âBut then I realized Iâd come back here before you would even get that message.â She giggles. âBut enough about me. What did you do during the break?â
âOh, me?â you ask, a little taken off guard. âNot much,â you reply with a smile. âI guess Iâve been cranking out battle plans, if that counts as relaxation.â
Hana gives you a horrified look. âMy sweet Y/N, youâve lost your marbles.â
You laugh. âDonât worry. I had the General to keep me company.â
âThe General??â Hana gasps. âHis idea of relaxation is work, Y/N! No wonder all you did was crank out battle plans! Youâre in need of a vacation!â
You shake your head, grinning. âHana, what would I even do? Besides, I canât just abandon my duties!â
âYouâve been working so hard that Iâm pretty sure you donât even have duties left to take care of,â Hana pouts. âWhy donât you take some time off for yourself?â
âTake time off for myself?â you ask, laughing. âI really canât, Hana.â
âHmph!â she sighs. âYouâre going to burn yourself out at that rate, Officer. Donât think I donât notice the dark circles under your eyes! You havenât been getting much sleep. If you donât rest, sooner or later, youâre going to crash and burn!â She grins, sweeping in a low bow. âBut thatâs all the convincing I can afford today, my good friend! Iâve gotta go train. See you later, Officer!â
âO-Oh! Yeah, see you later!â you call out to your friend, who waves while continuing to jog away. You wave back, but your other hand gently traces under your eye. You didnât know your body had left evidence of your many sleepless nights.
Take some time off for yourself.
But thatâs what youâve been doing. Youâve kept yourself busy, trying to make sense of the monocode and reviewing battle plans that you want to share as soon as possible. Itâs a new circa now, which means the Darlaeans have already made new formations for their new line of code. And itâs up to you to crack it.
You know Hana means differently when she tells you to take time off for yourself, but what is there to do other than work for the army? Besides, this is a war for fuckâs sake. And youâre an officer. So you shake your head, making your way inside the medical tent to see what Joonâs been up to.
âOh dear,â Namjoon says when he first catches a glimpse of you. He carefully stirs a giant pot filled to the brim with warm Incha and gives you a worried look. âAre you feeling okay?â
âJoon, Iâm not sick, I promise,â you say with a laugh. âI was just wondering if you need some help around here?â
Namjoon sighs, stopping his stirring to turn to you. âY/N, youâre an officer now. Itâs kind of you to offer to help all the time, but you donât have to come to this tent to work anymore. You have your other duties. Oh, dear⌠It looks like youâre overworking yourself. Didnât we sign off a temporary truce with the Darlaeans over the brunt of winter? You havenât gotten any rest at all, dear. You look very tired.â
âIâm not tired at all, Joon,â you say, shaking your head. âIâve just about finished all my officer duties, so I thought you could use a helping hand. I would be training too, if I was a fire medium, but I havenât quite learned the works of that yet.â
But Namjoon is firm. âY/N, you look like youâre seconds away from burning out.â
âI can last a few more circas like this,â you say. âMaybe an eternity,â you smile, though it feels a little heavy on your lips. âI feel okay, Joon, I swear.â
âYou can barely keep your eyes open.â
âI feel so awake!â
âWhen did you last sleep?â
âWell, I⌠I donât know.â For some strange reason, your eyelids have gone heavy. And oddly, itâs getting harder and harder to blink. âMaybe two days ago? Iâm not so sure.â
Namjoon reaches forward, gently placing the back of his hand onto your forehead. âNo fever⌠You need sleep right away. Whenâs the last time youâve eaten?â
âAlso canât rememberâŚâ
Youâre feeling a little dizzy. There are strange, white blobs in your vision, and though Namjoon just checked your temperature, you feel cold all over.
âY/N? Y/N?? Y/NâŚâ
You can hear words, but you canât quite comprehend them. Your head feels lightâa little too light. Thereâs a loud thump!, and thereâs a dull impact on your side. There are more words. They sound more urgent this time. But you canât bring yourself to understand what they mean. And before you can have another thought, everything goes black.
âShe seemed fine at the last officer meeting. I didnât know she was overworking herselfâŚâ
âShe hasnât slept in two days, and her blood sugar levels are quite low⌠I donât think sheâs eaten for a few days, either. I nearly had a heart attack when her eyes rolled back and she just fell to the ground.â
âFlaming hell. This girl is trying to carry a nation on her back before she even takes care of herself.â
Thereâs a polite laugh. âOh, dear. I donât think she was taking a proper break. Has she always been⌠well, a workaholic? After she got promoted, we havenât had much reason to see each other. I shouldâve made sure we kept in touch. Iâm her healer, for Sahnâs sake.â
âSheâs hardworking. But Iâve never seen her overwork herself to this extentâŚâ
Your eyes flutter open and you try to sit up immediately, but strong hands push you down. âIâm fine! Iâm fine!â you protest.
But the Lieutenant General snorts, shaking your head. âY/N, you fainted.â
âI did??â
When you look around, you see that youâre in a cot, covered with a blanket and a cup of warm Incha waiting for you in Joonâs hands. Without much protest, you take the tea and sip on it. It makes you feel just a little bit better.
âNamjoon here tells me that youâve been overworking yourself for whatever reason,â Doyun sighs. âYouâre already doing so much. Creating battle plans is not easy, Y/N. Though the way you whip them up, it doesnât seem like it. But a normal plan takes us weeks to create, Y/N. Maybe circas. Trust me. Youâre allowed to take your time.â
You fidget with the cup. âI feel like I need to fill in the gaps, Doyun.â
Itâs the partial truth. Of course thereâs a real reason hidden in your mind somewhere. Something that you donât necessarily feel the need to reveal in such a casual conversation.
âThe gaps?â she asks, raising her eyebrows.
âIâm an officer, but I donât know how to fight.â
Doyunâs eyes soften. âOh, Y/N. Youâve lost your memory. Itâll come back to you eventually.â
Eventually. That could be in a thousand circas; decades, even. There isnât enough time to wait. And besides, do you even want your memories to come back now? Still, the last thing you want is for Doyun to worry.
âI guess it will,â you say with a weak smile. âIâm sorry. I shouldâve taken care of myself better. I apologize for making you worry.â
Joon shakes his head. âItâs fine, dear. Iâm just glad I could have helped. But do take care of yourself. I didnât fix your broken ribs and head injuries for you to falter from malnourishment and sleep deprivation.â
You smile, nodding. âIâll keep that in mind.â
âWe donât have an officer meeting for a few days,â Doyun says. âFrom now to then, youâre forbidden to do any work. Just rest. Trust me. Youâve already done so much for us. We canât risk losing our Battle Plan Coordinator, can we?â Youâre about to open your mouth to argue when you hear a new voice in the tent.
âThatâs an order, Officer.â
Itâs quite the familiar voice.
As expected, when you look up, you see the General. Heâs got his hands laced together behind his back, an amused look painted on his face. âWhen you said you wanted to fight for the end of the war,â he drawls out, âI didnât know you were trying to fight for your end as well.â
You scoff. âSir, I only fainted.â
âAnd fell nearly face-forward,â Namjoon adds to your dismay.
âMaybe if youâd hit your head on the ground, Officer, you wouldâve lost all of your memories. Again,â the General says. âWe wouldnât want that, would we?â
The General lets out an exasperated sigh at your protest. âIf you wouldnât mind, Doyun, Joon, Iâd love to speak to our officer alone.â
âOh, of course!â Namjoon says. âDrink all of that tea, dear. And if you need more, you know where to find me.â
âIâm expecting you to rest, Y/N. General says itâs an order,â Doyun says, crossing her arms over her chest to emphasize her point.
You nod at both of their words. And once the healer and the Lieutenant are gone, the General speaks without a second to waste:
âWas it something I said?â
You blink. âSorry?â
âWas it something I said, Officer?â
âIâm not sure I followâŚâ
âYouâre overworking yourself to the brinkânoâto actual collapse. It seems to have started shortly after our conversation that night near the woods, Officer. So I must ask: was it something I said?â
Your eyes widen. âOh, no! No, sir. It wasnât what you said.â
âWas it the meeting with the fire sol?â
âHeli?â
âHeli?â he repeats, raising his eyebrows.
âO-Oh.â Your face heats up in embarrassment. âI know Iâm not supposed to name the animal spirits, but Iâve been meeting him every night, and I just couldnât help but name him. I hope that doesnât go against a rule book somewhere. He answers when I call him, though. But oh, for Soohtâs sake! It wasnât because I met Heli, either. Or maybe it was⌠I donât know, sir. It was everything.â
âEverything?â
Flaming hell. With the Generalâs simple persistence, youâre going to have to dig up what youâd buried away in your thoughts.
âI had an epiphany that night,â you admit. âAnd maybe it was because of my conversation with you. Or maybe it was because I met Heli. It couldâve been both, too. I donât know, sir. But I just remember being fed up being tied to my past life. I wanted to break free from the ropes. I just wanted to let go.â
âSo you let go, Officer?â
âYes, sir. Iâve decided that this is who I am now. I donât care what I did in the past.â
âWell, congratulations, I suppose,â the General says with a quirk of his brow. âBut Iâm failing to understand how this makes you overwork yourself, Officer.â
âI donât know if I made the right choice,â you blurt out. âI donât know anything about my previous life. Is it really right for me to cast it away? What if I had people I loved? What if I made promises that I canât remember? What if theyâre waiting for me to come back but I never do? Iâm scared, sir. And see? Iâm doing it again.â
His voice is soft when he asks, âWhat are you doing?â
âOverthinking,â you sigh. âI didnât want to overthink my choice. So I bit off more than I could chew. To distract myself from a spiral of horrible thoughts. But here I am, overthinking anyway.â
âIâm impressed that you were able to make such an executive decision, Officer,â the General says. His words ease just a bit of the tension from your shoulders. âYou neednât beat yourself up about it. This is who you are.â
âI suppose it is.â
âAnd truth be told, Officer, I like that you overthink.â
Your eyes widen. âYou do, sir?â
âHow else could you create battle plans so naturally?â he says with a gentle smile. âItâs just a part of you. No need to punish yourself for it.â
âSir, but do you really expect me to sit around and do nothing until the next officer meeting?â
âNo.â He smiles. âBut still try to take time off for yourself.â
âBelieve it or not, thatâs not the first time Iâve heard that,â you sigh.
âI believe it,â the General replies. âBut hearing that more than once is also a sign that you should take that advice. Take time off, overthink, ponder, ruminate. Do what you like. Maybe even go on a ride with Heli. I expect you to be well-rested by the officer meeting. Iâm sure you have many great things to share.â
âI do, sir.â
âItâs settled, then.â
âIt is.â
Thereâs a short, awkward silence. You sip your Incha and the General stares down at the dirt. After a while, youâre the first to speak.
âSir?â
âYes, Officer?â
âDo you happen to know anything about the number 19?â
He frowns. What an odd question. âNothing comes to mind,â he replies. âIs that all?â
âYes, thatâs all, sir.â
He clears his throat, suddenly feeling a little dizzy. âThen⌠Then I will see you in two daysâ time. Take care.â
He barely remembers what you had answered because heâs staggering out of the tent, a distant ringing in his ears. The walk to his own tent is a blur. When he finally collapses on his chair, his hands begin to cradle his head.
âS-Sh-She⌠Sheâs dead.â
âQuit pulling my leg, Yoongi. There are more serious matters to tend to.â
âMother⌠Yoojin is dead.â
âShe is only wounded. She is not dead.â
âYou have to believe me, Mother.â
âItâs General Min to you, Yoongi. How many times do I have to tell you? Yoonsoo is always so good at showing his respect. You? Why must you disappoint me, son?â
âMother!â Heâd yelled, tears streaming down his face. âShe set fire on herself. Yoojin did. Sheâs dead. Sheâs gone. Dead, Mother. Sheâs dead!â
âShut your mouth!â his mother had roared. Sheâd stood up abruptly, knocking over the heavy desk. âNo daughter of mine chooses a cowardly death in the medical tent!â
âShe was hurting, Mother, please. You know how severe her injuries had been.â
âWho is going to be the General after I die?!â his mother had yelled. âIt was supposed to be Yoojin! Coward!â she had yelled. âShe didnât want the responsibility!â
Yoongiâs mother had been horrified. She didnât want to admit it, but she loved her daughter. She loved her children. Her form of denial had been rash, but her denial showed that she had cared.
And with the death of Yoojin, General Min began spiraling out of control. She wouldnât sleep. Wouldnât eat. And she expected her soldiers to do the same. Be so disciplined that they didnât waste a single second of their lives doing anything else other than thinking, acting, breathing for the war.
Of course, this mania didnât last.
Within circas, she knew what a monster she had become. A cycle that her youngest son would continue. But she didnât know that.
Sensing the growing resentment of her soldiers toward her, General Min knew it would be better to die in battle than to resign. So she led a final, semi-victorious battle, sacrificing her life for her clan, her family and her army. She knew going into that battle that she wouldnât come out alive.
That had been her form of an apology.
Her last letter to her sons had consisted of one sentence: I appoint Min Yoonsoo as the next General of the Solarian Army and Min Yoongi as his Lieutenant General.
And while dealing with the sudden deaths of his sister and his mother, Yoongi had also dealt with the humiliation. The sheer humiliation that his mother had skipped over him and given his younger brother the title of the General. It was heartbreak over heartbreak. A devastation that haunts him to this day.
He was only 19 years old.
âThe General suggested I go on a ride with you.â
Heli huffs happily, stretching out his back as if to tell you heâs preparing for that very task.
âIâve never been in the forest alone.â
Heli paws at the air.
âYouâll take me on a tour?â
Heli huffs, the fire in his eyes burning just a bit brighter. He nuzzles you, and you wrap yourself around his warmth. âThank you,â you tell him. âI appreciate it.â
Within minutes, you see a blur of green and brown and white. You hold onto the blazing tiger, face nearly buried in his soft mane. Heli darts between the trees, weaving in and out amongst the frost-covered bushes. You pet his fur, hugging his figure and looking out to watch the beauty of the forest.
Alderâs woods are magical.
The trees are grand, towering over everything else. Their barks are etched with lines and shaded with contours so intricate that youâre convinced they could be the language of nature. Moss sprouts on the tree roots, painting the ground an emerald green. The morning dew drips off the smaller plants and falls delicately onto the forest floor that preserves the remnants of a cold winter.
Even during a wintry Circa Zircon, life seems to have survived. Some have flourished in the frigidity. You spy a couple of beautiful flowers, their petals a shade of vivid violet peeping out from under a patch of white snow. As the shy morning sunlight begins to stream in between the thick leaves of the trees, the life hidden in the forest becomes illuminated.
Your head rises a little as you catch a glimpse of a deer shimmering in the light. Itâs completely transparent and resembles Zeru in its light steps and delicate grace. An air sol. Heli seems to sense its presence, his nose twitching as he tilts his head up. You smile, scratching behind his ear. âItâs an air deer.â
And there are many more sols after that.
You see a horse whose mane ripples like water, peacocks that spread their fiery feathers, a herd of elephants made of rich soil and blossoming flowers. You see a pack of water wolves with translucent skin that reflects the light of the sun. And you see a tiger made entirely of patches of well-trimmed grass, its stripes created by the various hues of green.
There is so much to watch.
But there is much more to listen to.
There is the whisper of the wind (and maybe from the air sols), the rustling of the leaves as the earth squirrels pounce on the branches, the spry chirps of the fire birds. You canât quite listen but you can feel the trees murmuring amongst themselves.
If you were an earth medium, maybe you could speak the plantsâ language or at least understand bits and pieces of their phrases. Or maybe they donât speak in words at all. Maybe they communicate through signals and patterns and gestures that youâre too ignorant to comprehend.
There is so much to witness in Alderâs forest. So much movement. So much existence. So much life. And with the abundance of stimulation around you, you donât have the time to overthink.
As Heli races through the forest with you perched on his back, you close your eyes. The wind hits your face, rustling your hair but gently kissing your cheeks. And the arms that you tightly wound around Heli, you begin to spread in the air. It feels like youâre flying. Like youâre one with the wind.
You feel free.
This has to be the rest that the General had wanted you to take.
There is an uncomfortable silence in the tent as everyone stares down at the table to the single word that you point at. When youâd first figured out the new Darlaean code, you knew it would warrant some kind of confusion amongst the officers. But you didnât expect complete and utter silence.
In fact, youâre not sure the central tent has ever been silent for this long. It seems like everyone is at a loss for words. No one moves, either. Even Major Ki is frozen, her fingers holding onto her rings in silence. You stay frozen too, but your eyes sweep across the tent, surveying the countenances of your fellow officers. Captain Im stares at your writing, noticeably calculating something in her head. Captain Chu looks angry, his fists tight as he glares into the table. But then again, when does he not look angry?
Besides that, there are still a number of officers who have never spoken up in the meetings before. Among them is Captain Goe. With a round face and a rounder body, he always sports around a gourd filled with what you suspect is Takju. The middle-aged man is always present in the meetings, but you donât think heâs really there. But today, for once, he looks alert, eyes wide as he tries to make sense of the information youâd brought to the table.
In fact, Captain Goe is the first one to move. Mumbling something under his breath, he pops open the cork on his gourd and takes a generous swig. Everyone looks his way.
âExcuse me,â he burps out, swiping his sleeve over his mouth. Next to him, you see Captain Bak grimace.
Sheâs easily one of the most attractive people in the tent. Her silky hair is always woven into a tight braid, bangs framing her full face perfectly. With her sharp eyes, thick lips and rather intimidating presence, she makes a charismatic captain as you imagine her second sector soldiers would say. But at this moment, her eyebrows are twisted and her lips are curved down in a rather irritated look.
âIf you have something to say, Captain, you should say it,â Captain Goe says as he takes another swig of his drink.
Captain Bak scoffs in response. âIf youâre going to bring liquor into the tent, at least bring enough to share.â
âIs that what youâre so peeved about, Wonmi?â Captain Goe snorts. âHere, then, have a sip, my dear.â
Heâd obviously meant it as a joke, but to everyoneâs surprise, Captain Bak snatches the gourd out of Captain Goeâs hand and takes a very, very long drink. When she finishes, she tosses the empty gourd back to a shocked Captain Goe and pats the corners of her mouth dry. She smiles. âSharing isnât so hard, is it, my dear?â With a short laugh, she turns to the rest of the officers with a grin on her face. â19, huh?â she says. âFor Soohtâs sake, we should all drink to that! How is ânineteenâ possibly related to âjewelâ and âusurp?ââ
âItâs not,â Captain Chu grumbles. âThe Darlaeans are taunting us, and weâre falling right into their trap. Which wouldnât be new news to me at all. Might give the rest of you a nasty fright, though.â
âI wanted a legitimate answer, Captain Chu,â Captain Bak says with an angelic smile on her lips. âNot your nonsense again.â
âYou stay silent for circas in the meetings and now you decide to run your mouth?â Captain Chu says. âIs that the best you can come up with? Call my legitimate worries, nonsense?â
âI donât like arguing with those who wonât listen,â Captain Bak retorts before turning her back on the man with the tiger tattoo. âBut besides him, I wanted to ask you, Officer Ryu, if you had any theories? Youâve recognized the pattern first, so itâs only fair that we listen to your thoughts before others can taint it.â She smiles at you, and you find yourself sweating at the brow a little.
Now thatâs a lot of pressure.
âThe truth is, Captain,â you say, cheeks turning warm, âIâm not sure, either. The more I thought about it, the more I started thinking that maybe⌠maybe the words donât have to be related?â
Thereâs a murmur around the tent as everyone tries to comprehend your words.
âI just find it hard to believe that theyâve sent an arbitrary number following two consecutive Darlaean-related words,â you say.
âThatâs the thing,â Major Lee says. â19 doesnât have to be an arbitrary number. Just like how it doesnât have to relate to the other codes.â
âThat gives us more to think about than ever,â Captain Bak hums. âSo many theoriesâŚâ
âThen could it be possible that ânineteenâ is a marker?â Captain Im pipes up. âThat would explain how it isnât arbitrary and remains unrelated to âjewelâ and âusurp.ââ
âA marker?â Major Ki says. She drums her jeweled fingers on the table. âI like where youâre going, Captain.â
âA marker?â Major Ahn echoes. He rubs his stubble and hums, eyebrows furrowing. âYou mean to say the codes following this ânineteenâ will be related to each other in their own way, while âjewelâ and âusurpâ share their own relations?â
âYes, exactly,â Captain Im says. Her eyes sparkle as she begins to explain her theory. âI think there are 19 more codes left to go. So in total, by adding the three codes we already know, we should get 22 words. We donât know what these codes might entail, but weâre barely 14 percent into the full message. I think weâll need a bigger picture before we can say that this is just a Darlaean trap.â
âIf ânineteenâ really is a marker, then there might be a possibility that it isnât counted as a code,â Major Hyun says. âWhat if we have 17 more codes left to go and 19 words in total?â
âThatâs a possibility, too,â Captain Im says. âBut whoâs to say there arenât any more markers? And how do we know for sure if these markers count toward the overall total?â
âSo we have no idea how many total codes there are,â Major Lee sighs. âGreat.â
âItâs okay, Jeonwoo,â Major Jang says, patting his back. âThis is a start.â
âIâm wondering if they will continue their pattern of two codes followed by a marker,â Major Ahn says. âIt is too early to tell, however. There is a large chance that weâre not even on the right track.â
âYouâd think after decoding the monocode message that weâd be able to understand it,â Major Lee snorts. âTurns out we have to decode plain words, now.â But one look from Major Jang and he changes his outlook. âBut yeah, this is a good start. I guess we donât have to be on the right track now. We can always find it later.â
âI concur,â the General finally speaks. He rests his hands on the table and surveys his officers with a satisfied look on his face. âThat was enough discussion for today. We might not have found answers, but weâve found clues. And in situations where we donât know as much as weâd like to know, it is better to slowly piece the puzzle together ourselves, rather than to come to hasty conclusions.
âIt has been a productive meeting,â the General says. âNow, I would like toââ
âSir, I apologize for interrupting,â someone interrupts.
Heâs an officer who most other officers would forget is in the tent. A fifth sector captain with a slim build and lofty stature, Captain Yang is quite the anxious man. He rarely talks in meetings and when he does, itâs to agree with whatever his major, Major Hyun, says. Youâve seen him sometimes, zoned out, biting his nails during meetings and looking worried even when there is good news to share.
âI-I just wanted to⌠I wanted to share a theory. Just one more,â Captain Yang says. âBut itâs just⌠Itâs so different from what weâve been sayingâŚâ
âNo, no, itâs fine,â Doyun says with an encouraging smile. âWhateverâs on your mind, youâre allowed to say it here. Weâre all allowed to swim against the current. Because who knows? What if we turn around and swim along with you?â
âThank you, Lieutenant,â Captain Yang says, looking down at his feet. âItâs just a littleâŚâ He trails off to nip at his nails. You, in turn, begin to chew on your lip.
âIâd like to grab some dinner soon,â Captain Bak says, breaking the short silence. âAnd Iâm sure Captain Goe here would like a refill of his Takju, too.â
Captain Goe gives her a mean look.
âIâm sorry,â Captain Yang apologizes again. âBut⌠My theory⌠Itâs aboutâŚâ He looks terrified to say it.
âCâmon, then. Spit it out,â Captain Chu says. âWill you stop acting so damn scared all the time?â But one disapproving look from his girlfriend and he ducks his head, staring at his feet.
âI-Itâs about the General,â Captain Yang finally admits.
âMe?â the General says, eyebrows raised. âHow so?â
âThe three codes so far have been directed towards you⌠sir,â Captain Yang says, bowing his head. âJewel⌠Iâm sorry for bringing it up, sir, but thatâs how your father passed awayâwith a jewel stuck to his heart. T-They couldnât get it out. And⌠And usurp, sir. Itâs what our army threatened to do to your brother before⌠before he⌠before you took his position. And 19⌠You were just 19 when your mother and sister⌠Sir, theyâre poking fun at you.â
âOh?â
âI-Itâs⌠I was⌠Sir, I was there when you became appointed as your brotherâs lieutenant, sir,â Captain Yang says with a tremor to his voice. âI-I saw how⌠I saw how hard it was on you. That whole year⌠Those were horrible times. âNineteenâ doesnât have to be a marker. It could be an age. Sir, I think this message from the Darlaeans is to you. It might just be a direct threat against you, sir.â
The General pauses. And for a second, you see hurt flash before his eyes. But itâs gone in an instant. He quickly composes himself and speaks.
âThatâs a fair theory, Captain. Thank you,â he says quietly.
âIt does make sense,â Captain Ahn murmurs. âBut my question is, what is their point? Why make an obvious threat to the General? One where they will inevitably sacrifice their own soldiers because weâve figured out their pattern?â
âTheyâre planning something,â Major Ki says.
âAnd we donât know what,â Captain Im says. âWe donât know, but we can guess. But I think their first move is to lower the Generalâs morale. Make him doubt himself. Make him suffer from his memories.â
âThatâs real grand of them,â Major Lee snorts. âGeneral, is your morale lowered?â
âNo,â the General answers.
âItâll take a lot to lower the Generalâs morale,â the Lieutenant says with a grin.
âOfficer Ryu? Do you have anything to add on to this?â the General says. âYou asked me if I knew anything about the number 19. Did you suspect what Captain Yang said?â
His words startle you out of your thoughts. âO-Oh, umââ But before you even get a chance to come up with an answer:
âWhy are we always asking her opinion? Even when she clearly isnât ready to talk,â Captain Chu says, pointing at you as if you werenât looking straight in his direction. âSheâs not even a fire medium. I still donât get why we need her in this tent. She doesnât do anything that Captain Im canât do. We never needed a new officer. And especially not an officer who doesnât know the first thing about fighting in a fucking war.â
âLetâs not use what sheâs lost against her,â the General says. âI ask for her opinion because it matters, Captain Chu. Itâs as simple as that.â
Not even a fire medium. You have to admit, that hurts a little. Doesnât do anything that Captain Im couldnât do. You chew on your lip. Never needed a new officer. But why are his words sort of true? In truth, your only job is to create battle plans, something youâre sure the other officers could do. Youâre not out there in the war, fighting for your life and your soldiersâ lives. All you have to worry about is how cold it will be during nightfall. And during officer meetings, sure you talk, but youâre never the one coming up with new theories and ideas on the spot. How can you? You hate sharing things before youâve had the time to finalize all the little details. You hate being incomplete.
Of course you have something to add. Thereâs a dark, muddled thought brewing at the back of your head, but you canât share that now. You havenât polished it yet, and if you share a premature thought, and a thought as serious as this one, youâll cause more drama than youâd like.
But you suppose your fear of incompleteness is your weakness. Thereâs always something lacking in your presence in these officer meetings, and the others can see it.
âNo,â you say. It comes out a little harsher than youâd wanted.
âSorry?â the General asks.
âYou asked if I had anything to add.â
âAnd your answer is no?â
Captain Chu scoffs. Youâve just proved his point. âAre we dismissed now? If thereâs nothing more to say, we should all be able to leave. And Officer Ryu?â
You look up at him.
âDonât take what I said personally. Iâm just looking out for all of us.â
The General frowns and the Lieutenant is visibly irritated, but Major Ki steps in before either of them can react.
âJaenoâs been mourning recently,â she says. âWe all react to grief differently, donât we? Although I canât say being rude to your colleague is a healthy coping mechanism.â She turns to you. âIâm sorry, Y/N. He shouldnât have attacked you like that. We all think youâre a valuable asset to our team. A catalyst, if you will. And General?â
âHm?â
âPermission to be dismissed? I think I need to have a small talk with my boyfriend.â
âPermission granted,â he says, nodding to himself. âIn fact, this meeting is over. The rest of you are dismissed. I hope that everyone in this tent remembers what we are here for. We can only win if we work together.â
âCaptain Chu, I expect you to apologize to Officer Ryu sometime before the next meeting!â the Lieutenant calls as he and his girlfriend leave the tent. He grunts in response.
And as the officers begin to trickle out of the tent, you let out a large breath, almost unable to move from your position.
Not even a fire medium.
But heâs right. You arenât.
Maybe itâs time to begin praying to the spirits?
No.
Youâll figure it out. You always do. Right?
Someone puts an arm around your shoulder. Itâs Doyun.
âHey. You all right? Donât worry about Jaeno. There was a disease outbreak in Ara, and it looks like itâs affected his family.â
âHe hates me.â
âHeâs probably jealous,â Doyun says. âHe was like this to Captain Im before you came along and took her spot as his new scapegoat. Nobody listens to him anyway.â
âA brilliant fighter,â the General adds. âBut a not-so-great strategist. Heâll come around, though.â
âIâm sure he will,â Doyun says. âHeâs stubborn and dense, but heâs not that dense. And I trust Suhyun to convince him.â She rubs your shoulder. âYou brought change into our army, Y/N. There are some people who will always oppose it. Hell, I opposed it, too. At least in the beginning. But look at what change has brought us. Our biggest problem now is to figure out a stupid little riddle. Weâre winning battles left and right, and if Jaeno doesnât want to acknowledge that, then fine. But you have to know that youâre doing great work here.â
Her words make you feel so much better. âThanks.â
âBut Iâm curious, Officer,â the General says, who actually looks a little confused. âDid you really have nothing to add?â
Doyun rolls her eyes. âYoongi, her mind is always working at the speed of light, donât you know? Of course, she had something to add. What if youâre just as dense as Jaeno is?â she teases. âCome on, Y/N,â she says. âLetâs go get some dinner.â
She leads you out of the tent, where the sky is darkening and the breeze is turning icier. And you canât help but think, what a wonderful fucking start to your new year.
And inside the tent, Yoongi cocks his head, rather confused. Maybe he is dense. Because what in Soohtâs name were you thinking that you didnât want to share just yet?
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⨰ a/n: who's your favorite character? (because ngl i think mine has to be doyun LMAO). i'm working on a character cheatsheet so all the names don't get confusing :)
please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!
⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nationâotherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.
⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15
⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)
⨰ a/n: thank you to @the-berry-named-ari for beta-reading <3
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â§â§Circa Zirconâ§â§
Wintertime finally catches up to Alder. Blankets of snow cover the grass, even decorating the tops of the scarlet tents scattered about the terrain. Soldiers stay inside their homes, lighting their own fires and rubbing their hands together to keep warm. Snow falls steadily from above, veiling the last of the autumn colors with whiteness.
But the cold does not stop the war.
With a swift movement of your hand, you splay out your latest battle plans, the various papers fluttering for a second before settling down on the wooden tableâspread out, like a falconâs wings.
You clear your throat, delicately placing the back of your hand over your mouth as you do so. âThereâs a lot to go over today,â you say. The officers nod, agreeing with your words. As per your routine, you survey each and every one of them, taking a mental note of their facial expressions and attitudes for the day.
Strange.
Thereâs a face missing in the crowd.
You wonder what kind of emergency made Captain Im miss a very mandatory officer meeting. Maybe the General sent her on another trip to Elu for whatever reason he found important. Or maybe sheâs running a little late. The meetingâs only been going on for a few minutes. Maybe she has some last-minute fourth sector business to take care of. Or maybe sheâs healing in the medical tent? But if she was, the General wouldâve announced something at the beginning of the meeting.
You glance at him, and to your surprise, your eyes meet. He looks at you expectantlyâas if heâs waiting for you to say something.
Itâs then that you realize that youâre supposed to be presenting your battle plans. Awkwardly, you clear your throat again. âS-So! Um, yes, first and foremost, if we can get some earth mediums here,â you say, tracing a particular formation with your index finger, âthen we couldââ
âForgive me for interrupting!â A red-faced Captain Im rushes into the central tent.
So there she is.
Her jet black hair, which is usually neatly combed, is in visible disarray as she pants, trying to catch her breath. She waves a cream-colored paperâa letter in the air.
Everyone pauses to stare at her, wide-eyed.
âA message?â the General asks.
You cock your head. Who could it be from? It must be important enough to get Captain Imâwho is usually exceptionally calmâteeming with excitement. Her eyes sparkle as she uncharacteristically slams the paper on the wooden table. The movement causes some of your battle plans to disperse across the table, but nobody minds. Instead, everyone leans in synchronously to squint at the writing etched onto the letter. âA message from the Darlaean General!â Captain Im announces. âTheyâve agreed to call a temporary truce for the rest of winter!â
You blink. You blink again. Then youâre suddenly gasping with happiness, along with your fellow officers. Someone pats your back and another person links their arm around yours. Others are crowding around and hugging Captain Im for delivering the news. Some even cry tears of joy. It surprises you to see so much emotion on their faces. The officers are usually so incredibly stoicâso stern and serious. Through the corners of your eyes, you catch Major Ki and Captain Chu sharing a passionate kiss, and you even see Captain Yoo slapping Captain Chang on the back while grinning so hard that you can see his whisker dimples. But you suppose that theyâre just as human as everyone else. When someone bears good news, and the news is as good as this, they canât help but celebrate.
The battle plans are long forgotten.
âTheyâve never accepted our offers before!â Doyun exclaims as she tightens her grip on your arm. She looks incredibly happy, eyes wide and sparkling as her mouth sets in a wide grin.
Never? Amidst the celebration, you begin to wonder⌠Are they only accepting a temporary truce now that theyâre losing? If so, what will it take for them to agree on a permanent truce?
The cheering officers begin to lift Captain Im up on their shoulders, and that action alone brings you back to reality.
You let out a small sigh. This is the time to celebrate; thereâs no place for doubt.
So you join the happy crowd, a semi-worry-free smile on your face.
The night before the soldiers are permitted to visit their families back home, there is a feast. Rumor has it that the General pulled some strings and brought over the kingâs chefs from Elu. There are piles and piles of steaming rice, heavy pots of spicy soups and endless bowls of delectable side dishes. Soldiers eat until they can consume no more. But they drink like their stomachs are bottomless pits. They stumble about inside the large medical tent, drunk smiles on their faces, slapping their friendsâ backs and talking loudly over each other.
You spot Doyun playing a competitive game of cards with some of the other officers. It looks like theyâve bet some solarins too because thereâs no way kind Major Hyun would be yelling across the table at poor Major Ahn like that if there werenât a couple of coins involved. You smile a little and fix your gaze toward a group of healers (including Namjoon) in deep discussion. But with their swaying bodies, red, sedated faces and empty bowls, you really doubt that anyone there is cognizant enough to have a coherent string of thought. Even so, you like to imagine that theyâre talking about their families, whom theyâll be going home to see tomorrow. You canât imagine how happy they must be. And youâre happy for them, too.
The feelings of jealousy youâve felt during the last celebration are gone. Because this time, you have a home too. It might not be your alleged birthplace of Elu, but itâs a place where you feel safe. A place where you seem to know best. A place that you can proudly call home.
âNow, what are you doing, Y/N??â
You jump a little, startled to find Hana waving a loaf of bread right in front of you. One look at her and you know sheâs drunk, which is surprising considering the fact that sheâs a heavy drinker. She mustâve had at least ten bowls of Takju.
âYouâre just standing in the corner watching everyone!â she yells. âCome out and have some fun! Grab a drink and some bread!â She boops your nose with the end of her loaf.
Giggling, you shake your head. âBut I like standing in the corner.â Besides, youâre too sober to walk up to complete strangers and strike up a fascinating conversation with them that theyâll inevitably forget in the morning.
Hana makes a face. âWho the hell likes standing in the corner during a celebration?â she says, flinging her arms out dramatically. Consequently, the loaf of bread flies out of her hand and rockets straight into a crowd of soldiers.
Thereâs a small thump! and someone yells out a displeased, âHey!â
Hanaâs eyes grow wide as she looks around in panic. âOh no.â
She grasps your hands, hers instantly warming your colder ones. But you feel that shock again. The same, strange feeling from before. It washes over your entire body, drenching it in a strange, staticky sensation. But before you can really comprehend what this could possibly mean, Hana pulls away.
âI have to run,â she says. âNo. No. That would be silly. Why would I run away from that very obviously angry soldier? No. I have to find that loaf of bread. You know how rare a good loaf of bread is around here? The last time Iâve had some good bread was a week ago when you brought some back from Elu.â She smiles, her head lolling to the side as she looks at you. A strand of her dark hair falls in front of her face, and she waves her hand, the wind following her lead and moving it out of the way. âI appreciate you, Y/N,â she says. âIâm going to miss you.â
You snort. âYouâll be back by Circa Garnet, Hana.â
Her button nose wrinkles. âThatâs too far away. Iâd rather fight!â She pumps her fist in the air. âIâm going to fight until we win this damn war!â And before you can even react, she gasps. âMy bread! Iâve got to go! Goodbye, Officer Ryu!â Hana gives you a ninety-degree bow (nearly falling over while doing so), and then quickly rushes to find her loaf of bread somewhere in the crowd of drunk soldiers.
You watch her leave, amused by how much someone can change with some alcohol in their system. It makes you wonder how you would be perceived if you were drunk. But that thought isnât too pleasant.
After your encounter with Hana, you begin to survey the vast medical tent, eyes shifting through the soldiers and healers and officers to find anyone you recognize. There, around the middle of the tent, you find Hyojung and Captain Im dancing passionately in what looks like an unofficial official dance battle. Thereâs Jeonwoo on the sidelines, cheering Hyojung on, and quite a crowd of young soldiers chanting for Captain Imâs victory. Even stoic Captain Yoo looks content for once.
âCaptainâs quite the dancer, isnât she?â
You donât recognize that voice, so you turn around to see an attractive woman, leaning on one leg and crossing her arms over her chest. With her wavy, brown hair and cat-shaped eyes, she emanates confidence and allure. You reason that she must be a soldier, judging from her uniform. She doesnât seem so drunk, but thereâs a flirtatious look in her eye, and you canât seem to look away.
âI didnât know Captain Im could dance like that,â you reply with a polite smile.
âSheâs a jack-of-all-trades,â the woman replies. âBut Iâve heard the same about you.â
Your eyebrows raise. âYou have?â
âA prodigy rivaling Captain Imâs intellect,â she says with a smirk. âA soldier one circa and an officer the next. Iâm impressed, sir.â
âUm⌠thank you.â
She laughs and tosses her hair back behind her shoulder. âYou can be more arrogant than that, Officer. Itâs more attractive when someone knows their worth.â
You blink rapidly, processing her words before making a comment of your own. âThen I suppose you know your worth quite well.â
âOh, I do.â She grins. âI know my worth very well.â
How strange.
Is this what they call flirting?
In that case, there is no doubt about it that sheâs interested in you. And sure, you may be interested, too. But why does this feel so⌠so foreign? And itâs not just foreign; it doesnât feel right. Not because you donât find her attractiveâshe, indeed, knows her worthâbut because this is a war. Youâve seen how many times a couple is torn apart. How many times a soldier mourns over the death of their lover. You donât want that pain. Nor are you ready to dedicate yourself to someone, only to have them torn away from you.
But there you go again, overthinking about everything when there was practically nothing said. This is just what they call âcasual flirting.â And if youâre understanding that correctly, itâs a fun, one-time thing. So youâre definitely getting ahead of yourself. But then again, do you really want to have such a fleeting connection with a dedicated soldier in the army? Wouldnât it be awkward if this were a one-time thing, and the next time you see each other, one of you is dead? In fact, it wouldnât be just awkward. Itâd be fucking miserable.
The soldier notices your hesitation, which you may or may not have made very obvious. And to your relief, she grins, shrugging her shoulders. âItâs all right, Officer. We canât all be interested in love and war.â Before you can say anything, she bows slightly, that alluring grin still on her face. âThen I suppose Iâll see you around, sir. The alcohol is calling me.â Sheâs gone so quicklyâslipping into the crowdâthat it almost feels like your encounter had been a dream.
But sheâs right. And she was right to leave, too. Youâre definitely not interested in love and war. How can you be? Youâre married to the idea of creating battle plans and nursing injured soldiers back to health. What do you know about love, anyway? You only know sacrifice when it comes to your nation. But how do you sacrifice your heart for a partner? How do you cope with the fact that someone will want to sacrifice themselves for you? And what about the necklace?
Oh, the necklace.
It had slipped your mind for circas and circas. The only piece of evidence of your past. How fast your present mustâve moved for you to forget such a core detail of your old identity. So what about the person who gifted you the necklace? You should wait for them. But what if theyâre dead? Would they have wanted you to move on?
But why are you so fixated on this fantasy anyway? You already thought of it yourself that youâre not one for love and war. Now as a Solarian Officer, youâve dedicated yourself to the army, to the people, to the General. This is the new you.
But what about the old you? Are you going to abandon her, just like that?
Itâs too much. Your thoughts begin to suffocate you. Though your surroundings are festive, you canât seem to match the atmosphere. While soldiers are drinking away their problems, you seem to be giving yourself more by doing your usual overthinking. So you find reprieve by escaping into the night.
The winter air is cold, nipping at your exposed skin. You shiver, wandering into the darkness. The moon hides behind thick clouds, and only a few stars have come out to greet the night. The icy frost on the grass leaves wet prints on your thick uniform, goosebumps dotting your skin.
Itâs cold, yet you feel oddly calmâan overwhelming contrast from the loud, hotness of the tents. Out here, you feel like you can breathe.
Further and further you wander into the darkness. Youâre not sure why, but your legs persistently carry you forward. Out here, your thoughts are clear, no longer muddy and tangled and twisted. Out here, you feel free. You feel adventurous. The darkness, for some reason, fuels your desire to explore. And before you know it, youâve wandered past the tall grass and just at the edge of the great, dark forest.
But then, there is light.
You see the amber glow coming from behind the trees, casting a dark shadow over the ground. It is the same brightness you remember seeing in the forest when you and the General were riding to Elu just a week ago. The swift brightness that had disappeared when youâd blinked. But this time, even when you blink, the mysterious light stays.
You take a step forward.
It takes a step forward.
And soon, you realize the amber glow is not just a light but an animal.
A tiger.
Your eyes widen as it reveals itself from behind the tall trees. Itâs majestic. Warm.
The tiger burns, scarlet flames emanating from its entire body, yet never scorching anything around it. It stands tall, gazing up at you with sparks in its kind eyes.
You feel entranced. Hands carefully outstretched, you begin to walk slowly towards the tiger, and it lets you. Calmly waits for you to reach it. And once youâre in close proximity, it bows its head. As if it wants you to touch it. You stare at the orange flames blazing on its fur, hand hovering right over it. It seems dangerous. Why would you stick your hand into fire? But then again, thereâs something about this tiger that calls to you. Something that feels safe. Something that doesnât seem logical and all but still feels right.
Your hand falls onto the flames. But itâs warm, and the light casts pretty shadows on your arm. You run your fingers down the tigerâs head, petting its soft fur. It lets out a gentle huff, nuzzling into your hand.
So this is a sol. A fire sol. A sol that found you. Theyâre free animal spirits, supposed to roam about Solariaâs vast lands. But why has this one come to you? Has it been watching you? And why do you feel so calm and safe around it?
The tiger huffs contentedly as if to tell you he appreciates the attention heâs getting. Then, heânot an itâstands up, his head reaching just a little above your waist. His bright eyes speak to you. As if to tell you that heâs been waiting in the cold for you.
âWell then, I hope you didnât wait for long,â you whisper, scratching behind his ear.
The tiger huffs again.
âI⌠Iâm just⌠I needed some air.â
Why does it feel like youâve known him forever?
âHave we met before?â
But the tiger raises his blazing paw, leaving your question unanswered. You begin to think taking his paw in your hand will help you understand something, but then you realize the sol has been trying to point behind you. âOh. Oh. Somethingâs behind me?â Quickly, you turn around to seeâ
âSir!â
âI see that youâve met another sol,â the General says. He walks closer to you and the tiger, seeming oddly accustomed to the animal. âThis one here is the physical embodiment of fire. Heâs known to wander around Alderâs woods.â
But youâre barely able to hear his words. âSir, Iâm surprised to see you here. Youâre the General that led hundreds of battles the past several circas. I thought youâd be celebrating your victories.â
You didnât think anyone else would have wanted to forgo an excellent celebration for some alone time outside. Besides, you and the General have barely exchanged words since your trip to Elu together. Why is he suddenly approaching you, anyway?
âI donât like to celebrate doing my duty,â the General replies without missing a beat. He stares behind you, at the blazing tiger, and shrugs. âWith your logic, you should be celebrating too, Officer. You were the one who came up with our most successful battle plans.â
You cock your head. âMaybe I donât like to celebrate doing my duty either, sir.â
The General makes a noise that sounds somewhat like a laugh and a snort. But he shakes his head, instead. âThe sol seems to take a liking to you.â
As if to prove the Generalâs words, the tiger nuzzles you again, then sits down right next to you. âI like him too,â you say, reaching down to pat his blazing fur.
âHe must see your potential to wield fire,â the General says. âOr heâs gotten tired of roaming about the forest alone.â
You smile, kneeling down to scratch behind the tigerâs ear. Its warmth seems to melt your insides, making the same kind of heat emanating from your body. âItâs a good thing that we can keep him company for tonight.â
The General raises his eyebrows. And for a second, you think he might say something on the lines of, âWell, maybe you can keep him company, but Iâm going to go not celebrate my duty somewhere else.â But the next thing you know, heâs kneeling down too, sitting cross-legged on the grass straight across from you. When you look at him in surprise, your eyes meet, his dark ones reflecting the red flames of the tiger. However, he quickly looks away and clears his throat. âI suppose you wonât be leaving camp tomorrow.â Then, he looks even more embarrassed that he had said anything.
You shrug your shoulders. âI donât really have anywhere to go,â you say. You gaze up to the sky, watching the sparse stars sparkling in the distance. âBesides, as far as I know, Alder is my home.â Your gaze falls down to the man sitting in front of you. âAnd what about you, sir?â
Will he go back to Aithne, his homesector? Just to visit? But visit who, exactly? Heâs the last of his bloodline⌠Does that mean he will stay here with you?
The General shakes his head, an unreadable look on his face. âAlder is my home as well.â He finally looks up, the brightness of the tigerâs flames and the shadows dividing his features in half. And this time, he doesnât look away. Instead, he stares into your eyesâcuriously. âYou donât like to drink, do you, Officer?â
Itâs a question that catches you off guard. âDrink? I mean, I just⌠I donât want to be perceived in a way that I cannot control,â you admit sheepishly. âI also get the impression that some drink to forget, but I donât want to forget any more than I already have, sir.â
âBeing in control, huh?â he says. He seems to nod to himself as if to fully digest your words. âI really do wonder where you were after all these years. Why you didnât join the army sooner when youâve got the talent and personality. But,â he says, back slouching as his hands graze the cold grass, âdonât you believe that itâs thanks to your memory loss that youâre now my officer?â
You cock your head. âThatâs also very true,â you say. But for a split second, your thoughts flit to the abandoned necklace in your tent. Yet you shake those thoughts away. âThen Iâm very lucky to be able to work with such talented people.â
The General smiles, his features glowing in warm light. âAnd weâre lucky to work with you.â
You shake your head though smiling at his compliment. âIâm pretty sure if you knock anyone out hard enough that they lose their memories, theyâll voice the same polarizing ideas that I have. Itâs just something about not being able to remember anything that makes you feel like you have nothing to lose.â
The Generalâs eyes sparkle in amusement. âHm⌠Nothing to lose,â he echoes. âIsnât that quite a mindset?â
âIt is.â
âThen you must be ready for the new year, Officer,â the General says. âIt may seem peaceful now, but weâll go right back to fighting in the next circa. Nothing to lose, huh?â He shakes his head. âYou must not be afraid of death.â
âI feel like I should be,â you say, leaning back against the warm tiger who huffs happily in response. âBut I donât remember who Iâve loved, and Iâm starting to think whoever they wereâif they even existed at allâtheyâre already gone. So it doesnât matter, I guess. If I die, no one will feel like they died with me.â
âTogether, love and war is dangerously precarious, anyway,â the General says in agreement. âDo you wish you remembered, though? At least their face? Maybe faces?â
It takes you a moment to realize heâs talking about your past lover, or lovers, as he phrases it. âIâm not sure,â you reply. âIt could be both a blessing and an agony to know.â
The General nods. âForgive me if that was too personal.â
âItâs fine,â you say, then you grin, an idea lighting up your mind. âI can ask you a personal question, sir. Maybe it will cancel out.â
He snorts. âIf youâd like.â
âAre you afraid of death?â
The General visibly grimaces. You raise your eyebrows. âIâm sorry, was that too personal?â
âNo.â He shakes his head. âI just didnât want my answer to kill the mood.â
The mood? Is he referring to the quiet calmness of being outside? Or the exhilarating curiosity youâre sensing that you have towards each other? Either way, the General likes the current atmosphere, and heâs cautious enough to not want to ruin it. You find that rather interesting.
âIâm sure we can manage,â you reply. âOne answer wonât kill the mood, will it?â
The General seems to think. Then: âI suppose I agree with you. In that case, the short answer is no.â
âLooks like we have something in common.â You grin. âDo you mind divulging to me the long answer, sir?â
Thereâs a short, deliberate pause, where the General makes it quite obvious that he is in deep pondering, his forehead wrinkling and his posture worsening. But he finally decides to answer in the end. âMy death will inevitably bring the burden of leading the Solarian Army on another person. Iâm not afraid of death itself, but Iâm very wary about the effects of my leave.â
âSee, sir? That didnât kill the mood. You were just being thoughtful and honest,â you say, smiling. âI also donât think weâll die anytime soon. So thereâs nothing to worry about.â
âNot die anytime soon?â the General says. âPray tell why you think so, Officer.â
Your fingers also graze the ice-cold grass, playing with the droplets of water before looking up to answer. âBecause weâre going to crack the code. Weâre already almost halfway there. Iâm starting to think theyâll have a new code for every circa. Itâs to the point that Iâm wondering what the next word will be.â
The General nods. âI wonder, too.â
âSir? Can I ask you another personal question?â
His eyes sparkle. Yes, losing your memories makes you feel like you have nothing to lose at all. His other soldiers wouldnât dare be as upfront toward him as you are. âAre you going to inquire about my love life, next?â he asks half-jokingly.
You pretend to think. âThough that sounds tempting, I was really going to ask what your reason to fight is, sir. And I realize I never told you my reason, either, though I did tell you that you helped me find it.â
âThen why donât you tell me your reason?â the General says.
âBut sir! I asked you first.â
âAnd Iâll answer you after you tell me,â he responds, smiling. âDid I not help you find your reason?â
âWell, I suppose itâs nothing to hide,â you sigh, yet clearly amused. âBut I did want the advantage of going last for the shock value.â
He snorts. âIf it were a shocking reason, then it should shock me regardless of the order we share it.â
âFine then. I fight for the end of this war.â
âThe end?â He sounds incredulous, eyes slightly wide as he stares at you. As if youâd just uttered the impossible. Youâve shocked him all right.
âI know it sounds preposterous,â you say, attempting to explain yourself. âBut even if I end up dying in the process, I want my efforts to have brought us just a step closer to the end. And itâs stupid.â
âStupid?â
âItâs stupid that we fight for peace.â
âOf course itâs stupid,â the General says to your surprise. âBut what better way is there to measure our egos?â
You scoff. âDo the Darlaeans even know that theyâre fighting a nation run by a child?â
âThey donât,â the General replies. âIf they did, they would be out for blood. More than they already are.â
It doesnât make sense. Why not leave the Solarians alone? Why not embrace peace? âWhy do they hate us so much?â you say. âI donât understand.â
âThe Darlaeans?â the General asks. âItâs because they love power. They canât stand the thought of their ancestors abandoning Darlaean magic for elemental wielding because that would imply that Darlaean magic is not enough. If they win, Solaria will die.â
âThen we canât possibly let them win.â
The General nods. âItâs why I fight for our freedom.â
âFreedomâŚâ It sounds so nice saying it out loud.
âIâll sacrifice anything so we can be a free nation with free people,â the General says. âBecause like you, Y/N, I have very little to lose.â
âI guess we have more in common than I first thought,â you say, absentmindedly reaching back to pet the tiger. The sol huffs happily, his tail swishing in the cold air. âTruth be told, though, you scared me a lot when I first met you.â
Youâre not sure whatâs prompting you to be so honest in this hour. Maybe itâs the secure warmth of the fire sol behind you. Or maybe itâs the serene atmosphere of the night. Or maybe itâs the General who gazes at you like youâre the most interesting person heâs ever had the pleasure of talking to.
âI canât blame you,â he answers, the corners of his lips twitching upward. âI shouldnât have been so brash.â
âItâs okay,â you say. âI know that itâs all a façade. Iâve seen how you act with children.â
The General snorts. âYouâre peculiar.â
âMe?â
âYes, you. Would I have been talking to the sol behind you?â
âWell⌠it could have been a possibility. But how so? How am I peculiar, that is?â
âI donât know⌠You just are.â But he does know. Well, he has a small idea. You walk without weight on your shoulders. You talk with a sparkling glint in your eye. You approach him like you and he are acquaintances. You talk to him like heâs your friend. But you treat everyone the way you treat him. Youâre a master battle planner, yet you think the war is stupid. Youâre intimidating when you want to be, but when you smile, your face lights up and you begin to glow. Youâre kind to the people who do not like you, but you can be mean when somebody pushes you too far. You showed up on his campground memoryless and innocuous, yet youâve somehow made it as an officer. Youâre an enigma.
Across from him, you get an inkling that the General knows exactly how you are peculiar. But you realize he must feel a little awkward verbalizing it. Or maybe he wants to keep being the enigma that he is. âYouâre peculiar, too,â you say. âVery peculiar.â
His eyebrows raise. âHow so?â
âI donât know,â you echo with a grin. âYou just are.â
He rolls his eyes. âMust you always repeat what I say?â
âYes, but unlike you, Iâll actually elaborate,â you say, laughing at the Generalâs exasperated expression. âYouâre an interesting balance of authoritative but receptive. Youâre intimidating, but you know, when you smile, your whole face does this thing where it lights up. Maybe itâs the fire medium in you? Youâre graceful yet awkward. Youâre a leader but you also know how to follow. Youâre my superior, but you treat me like weâre equals. Maybe like weâre acquaintances. Is that enough?â
The General is rendered a little speechless. You think the same of him when he smiles like he does when you smile. How peculiar.
âThatâs more than enough. And for the record,â he says, âwe are equals. Everyone in this camp stands on the same level. My life costs the same as everyone elseâs. AndâŚâ he trails off, unable to help the grin that stretches across his lips. âAm I really that awkward?â
You laugh, shaking your head at his question and refusing to answer. âYouâre lighting up again.â
âIt must be because I enjoy your company.â
The General? Enjoys your company? Youâre so shocked that you accidentally utter a: âWho wouldnât?â Itâs so out-of-character that even the Generalâs eyes widen at your words.
âI mean! I enjoy your company, too. Sir,â you quickly add. âI donât know why Iâm acting so inebriated. I havenât had a single bowl of Takju.â
The General smiles. âItâs the atmosphere.â
Again, youâre not too sure what he means by this. The atmosphere of the night? The cold winds juxtaposed with the warmth emanating from the fire tiger? Or the atmosphere between the two of you? Either way, you donât get an answer because thereâs someone calling for the General, waving at the entrance of the main medical tent.
âGeneral! Iâve been looking for you! We want you to make a toast!â
The General meets your eyes. And for a second, you see disappointment in them. But that emotion is gone the next time you blink. Quickly, he stands up. âWould you like to come?â
Oh, would you? You hesitate. Do you really want to go back in that stuffy tent?
Besides, you have a fire sol willing to keep you company for the night. If you leave now, youâre not sure if youâll ever see him again. The tiger, sensing your predicament, huffs, rubbing his head against you. It helps you make your decision.
âIâll stay, sir,â you say. âI donât know when Iâll see him again.â
The General nods. âDonât stay out too late, then.â He looks at you one last timeâas if somethingâs on the very tip of his tongue. But he turns at the last second and walks away.
You watch him leave, huddling closer to the fire tiger.
What an interesting conversation you just had with the General. The more you get to know about him, the more you come to admire his character. And the more you want to uncover.
He said he has little to nothing to lose. It makes sense. How would it feel to be the very last of your bloodline, knowing your death would be a bigger deal than youâd like? Who has he lost that makes him the person he is today? What kind of past does he have for him to take on such a burdening role? What makes him want to fight for the freedom of Solaria?
You reach behind to scratch the tigerâs ear, and he huffs, nuzzling into your hand. âI should stop overthinking, huh?â
His tail thumps on the ground in agreement.
âItâs so beautiful tonight,â you sigh. âIt feels like everything thatâs happened so farâfrom the moment I woke up in that medical tent to right nowâis a dream. Iâve learned so many things. Met so many great peopleâand animals,â you add with a laugh. âIt sounds silly, but this almost seems too good to be true. I know weâre in the middle of a war, but thereâs no way my past life was better than this. Iâve become a better person after I lost all my memories. Maybe⌠Maybe itâs time to really let go. Embrace that this is the new me.â
You close your eyes, taking in the crisp air and breathing out slowly. âI donât want my old memories anymore.â It feels great to finally admit it. Your eyes open wide, a new kind of determination set in them. âThinking about my past always weighs me down. And I donât want that anymore. I donât need my old memories to reconnect with fire. Hell, I can make new memories for that. I think I can relearn. I want to fight. I want to become a fire medium again.â
The tigerâs tail thumps rapidly on the groundâas if he is cheering you on.
âThanks,â you say, smiling. âDo you have a family to go to? Am I keeping you away from them?â
The tiger paws at the air, and you interpret that as a no. âAre you going to keep me company for the night?â
He snortsâa happy-sounding yes.
You smile. âThank you.â
With your fingers tangled in the tigerâs burning mane, you watch the nighttime clouds grace the sky, floating slowly to their next destination. The warmth against your back, the honey-colored flames of the sol and the quiet tranquility of the outside world begin to soothe you. Your eyelids feel heavy and your breaths start to slow. You fall asleep with the midnight sky gazing over you, and the blazing tiger keeping you guarded.
In a few hours, you awake along with the chimes of the water clock. Itâs still early, the fog hiding away the dawn light, but you find that thereâs something soft and bright supporting your back. When you turn around, you see the fire tiger. Heâs awake too, staring at you with his round eyes.
âYou stayed.â
He snorts as if youâd just uttered the obvious, which you sort of did.
âI just thought I wasnât going to see you again,â you say. âYou can go if you want. Youâre not obligated to stay.â
The tiger lets out a soft growl as if he disagrees. He stares at you, mane blazing even in the early morning hours. His stare makes you feel like electricity coursing through your entire body. Again, thereâs that feeling inside of you. That feeling where you swear youâve seen him before. But that doesnât matter anymore.
The moment right now is what counts.
With reinvigorated energy, you stand up with the tiger. Placing a hand on his back, you look around at the vast Alder territory. Itâs so early that no one has come out of their tents yet. Gray fog weaves between the scarlet homes, and a wintry breeze still permeates the air, but for the most part, it looks like the frost from last night has melted. The scenery feels so raw, and the barrenness feels so intense. You feel the determination again. The passion and the ambition.
You take a deep breath of the fresh air. It stings your nose but you feel so awake. So alive.
âItâs a new day,â you say. âAre you ready for it?â
The tiger takes a step forward, tail swaying from side to side. He throws you a happy look with his soft eyes reflecting the flames of blazing fires. Then, he roars. The sound shakes the trees, reverberating across the land and stirring those who had been asleep. He roars and it wakes you up, too. You feel amazing. Like youâve woken up from an amazing nightâs sleep and came across a thousand epiphanies.
For Soohtâs sake. Youâve never felt so good before.
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⨰ a/n: i've been balancing a social life with clubs, research and classes and it's been a little difficult đ please bear with me (and my characters LOL). i hope you like this new chapter because things are going to be picking up from here! đ
please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!
⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nationâotherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.
⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15
⨰ warnings: profanity, (very) minor character deaths, mentions of blood and fatal injuries
⨰ wordcount: 12.9k
⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)
⨰ a/n: thank you to @the-berry-named-ari for beta-reading!!
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â§â§Circa Zirconâ§â§
You wake up with the chime of the water clock. But judging from the darkness within the tent, you doubt that itâs dawn yet. Maybe just a few hours before. A gentle breeze sways the red fabric of your tent. Itâs a rather cold breeze, one that would nip at your skin if you were outside. But the inside of your tent is warm. Somehow, the flame that the General had lit for you last night is still blazing.
And speaking of the GeneralâŚ
It was quite sudden, wasnât it?
You feel like you barely know himâjust a few sporadic interactions here and there. But thereâs something about him that makes you want to know more. There are things that he keeps hidden behind his stoic face and cold eyes. And you want to figure it out.
Maybe there are things that he wants to know about you. After all, you are a mystery. Or maybe he really did want to show you around Elu for the sole purpose of business and professionalism. Youâll figure it out by the end of the day.
The water clock chimes twice more before thereâs that familiar, hushed voice outside of your tent: âAre you awake, Officer?â
âYes, sir.â
âAre you ready to go?â
âYes, sir.â And youâre out the tentâheart beating with a strange excitement. Heâs in his usual attire, boots scrubbed clean and not a loose thread on his uniform. Even in the foggy dawn air, his golden cords sparkle. You wonder how long he spends every day polishing them. But when you realize youâd been rudely staring at the Generalâs waist, you redden and look up to meet his eyes.
He pretends as if nothing happened. âWe should arrive at the capital just before noon.â
Just as you begin to wonder how you are to get to Elu, a silvery wisp of air begins to configure itself beside the General. When you blink, the wisp had shaped itself into a beautiful horse. It neighs, its silvery mane bellowing out even without the tugs of the wind. Majestic. The coat is a snowy white and its tail is free-flowing, the tendrils coiling along with the wintry zephyr gracing the dawn sky. Your eyes widen at the sight.
âItâs completely transparent,â you whisper. âI can see right through it.â You have the sudden urge to reach out and touch the horseâthe entityâwhatever it is. Youâve seen this before. Youâve seen the General ride his horse, but never once did you think its silvery presence had something to do with the wind.
âOur sols are the pride of our nation,â the General says softly. He pats the horseâs sparkling mane, and youâre shocked that his hand doesnât go right through the animal. âThis one right here is Zeru. Heâs an air horse.â
âHeâs beautifulâŚâ The same kind of majesticness that the General emanates. âDid you say something about a soul?â
At that, the General lets out a small sound that sounds like a cross between a laugh and a grunt. But he composes himself and turns to you. âS-o-l. Thatâs what we call our animal spirits.â He pets the horse again, which neighs happily against his palm. âTheyâre free to roam the vast Solarian lands since nobody really owns them. We donât know where they come from either. But we do know that they embody our four elements.â The horse swishes his tail in agreement, and the General nods, gently rubbing his nose. âWe rarely name the sols, too, since theyâre not ours to name. But Zeru comes back to me time and again. After a while, I came up with a name and it stuck.â
âThe two of you seem close,â you say, watching the horse nudging his nose against the Generalâs neck with affection.
âWe have to be,â the General replies. âWe wouldnât have survived battles together if we werenât.â Thereâs a small pause before he turns to you. âHave you ridden a horse before?â
Itâs a question you donât know how to answer. Technically, the answer is no. But perhaps your muscle memory is superb and you have in the past?
âOh,â the General says. He looks embarrassed, avoiding your eye contact. âI apologize. Even if you had, you wouldnât remember.â Then, he looks even more embarrassed that he had tried to explain the obvious to you.
Wordlessly, he seems to order Zeru to kneel, and he gestures to you to mount the horse. For a minute, you hesitate. What if you fall through the horse? You can see the ground straight through him. What if the General can only touch the horse because the horse actually likes him? You really hope the horse likes you too. And even amidst your stalling, the General is patient. If youâre taking too long to mount the horse, he doesnât say. Instead, he waits silently.
So, tentatively, you swing your leg over the horse. Your leg hits something soft. Something cool to the touch. The horse. Your hands tangle into his silvery mane. It feels like the way a cloud would feel, yet looks like silk. While youâre busy trying to work out the logistics of this, you feel a sudden warmth pressing up against your back. You freeze. Your mind goes completely blank. A gentle hand presses against your waist. It knocks the wind right out of you.
Gracefully, the horse stands up and with a magical swish of its tail, itâs off. Maybe itâs because the horse is one with the wind, or maybe itâs because itâs so inherently light. But itâs incredibly quick. Youâre almost having trouble breathing with how fast Zeru gallops across the green grass. He moves closer and closer to the coniferous forest, and your eyes widen. Will you finally be able to see whatâs in there?
But for fuckâs sake, you canât get your mind off of the hand on your waist. The General did it so absentmindedly. You realize that itâs probably second nature for him. He wouldnât want you falling offâfor many logical reasons. In fact, maybe heâs holding onto you so he wonât fall off. But stillâŚ
It feels intimate. And youâre not sure what to think about that.
The ride is mostly silent. Youâre not sure how long it will take, so you busy yourself watching the forest. The trees are tall and large, snow decorating the tips of their many branches. Youâre not much of a plant connoisseur as Major Hyun or Doyun are, so youâre not sure if you can really appreciate the scenery. You do notice how fresh the air is inside the forest, though. The emerald leaves collect the morning frost that begins to drip on your heads as Zeru gallops past it all. The forest is dense, and the pale sunlight can just barely filter through the vegetation. But itâs nice to see something other than the saturated red tents.
But then there, right there, you see something moving swiftly between the trees. Something bright, something burning. When you blink, however, it disappears into the forest, making you believe youâd imagined it all. Itâs too early in the morning. Youâre better off drifting away with your internal thoughts.
So you begin to wonder what the General could be thinking of for it to be so silent. Heâs probably admiring the beautiful land, tooâamazed into silence just like you are. Or maybe heâs too used to it. Maybe heâs lost in his other thoughts. Thoughts of which would be rude of you to inquire about.
Yoongi cares about his soldiers. And his soldiers have always cared for him, too. He remembers, just after the burden of leading the Solarian Army fell upon his soldiers, heâd been so lost, so alone. Heâd never wanted this. He was barely qualified for it! But Doyun had been there for him. Sheâd reassured him, told him he could lead. He was still mourning the death of his brother, thenâsomething he wouldnât get over for a long, long time. But Doyun had helped him. Sheâd shown him compassion and empathy. Not because she coveted the gaping position of the Lieutenant-General of the Solarian Army, but because she cared. She saw him as a friend and not just another body on the battlefield.
Ki Suhyun made him realize that he should not be treating his soldiers as pawns. In his third time leading a battle, heâd made too many careless mistakesâmistakes that almost cost him his life. But his major had saved him time and again. Even though he shouldâve really been dead. Even though he deserved to be dead. But she treated his life as if it were her very own. He doesnât know whyâand he still doesnât know. She couldâve let him die and assumed the position as his Lieutenantâafter Doyun became the General. But she hadnât. She values human life, and she could never dream of treating a soldier like a pawn on a gameboard. He wants to be like her. Major Kiâthe Flare Shotâis a person he admires. A person he looks up to.
He looks up to a lot of people, which others find weird because they tend to look up to him. But everything that he is now, he learned from others. He learned compassion from Doyun and empathy from Suhyun. He learned discipline from his mother, loyalty from his father, diligence from his sister and ambition from his brother. He learned to be the General that he is today from his many, many soldiers. He tries to treat them as humans, but itâs hard because battle plans treat them as pawns. Yet he wants to know their names, wants to know about their families, wants to learn who they are as people. Itâs the only way he can live with himself. Because if your pawn dies, you shrug it off; itâs just a pawn and you have better pieces lined up anyway. But his soldiers are people, and when a person you love dies, it breaks you. He wants that burden because it forces him to be better, to strive for fewer casualties, to strive for victory. It fuels him.
Youâre not just a soldier who lost her memory to him. Youâre a human. And to be a soldier for the Solarian Army, you at least need to know what youâre fighting for. You need a reason to fight. He knows his reason. He fights for the freedom of his people. And he wishes by the end of the day, youâre able to find your own reason.
Even after all the atrocities heâs faced in the war, heâs still human. And so is everyone else. How can anyone live with themselves if they are not compassionate? The compassion that his soldiers have shown to him, heâll repay bit by bit. Like today.
Nearly six hours of riding on horseback is quite tiring. If youâre uncomfortable, though, you donât mention it. It occurs to Yoongi three hours into the ride that he shouldâve come prepared with some things to say. Heâs not sure if you think badly of him for the long silence. But itâd be too late now (and too awkward) to say anything. It also occurs to Yoongi four hours into the ride that his hand is still on your waist. Do you think this is indecent? Will you think he has the wrong intentions? Or will you understand that heâs doing this because heâs afraid youâll fall off?
Either way, the two of you arrive at the capital sector when the sun is high above the sky. Your throat is rather dry after having stayed silent yet alert for six hours. But your eyes survey the foreign territory, taking in the land, the plants, the people. Compared to Alder, Elu lacks vegetation, but what it lacks in greens, it makes up for its beautiful architecture. There are houses everywhereâintricate figures made from wood, mud and paper. The shiny tiles of the roofs are sloped upwards in a look youâre quite familiar with. It reminds you of your homeâthe peaked roof of your own tent. Then there are the people. There are so many people. Youâve never seen this many people who arenât in uniform at all. Theyâre bustling, congregating near what you assume are restaurants and shops. They talk and laugh together, and the children play games in the dirt. It seems like youâve entered a whole new world. A world where the war isnât everyoneâs first and last thought.
The General slides off of the horse, and he outstretches his hand to help you off as well. You take it, his hand warm and encompassing yours. But as soon as the contact comes, it leaves. The General clasps his hands behind his back and even though he speaks no words, Zeru gives out a little neigh (that sounds somewhat like a goodbye) before heâs galloping away, along with the wind. The General must be so close to the horse that theyâre able to communicate telepathically. (When will you become so close to someone that you can do the same thing?) Squinting to battle the bright sun, you watch Zeru run with the windâand it makes you think: he really is free. You wonder what it would be like to be able to run that fast. All the places you could visit!
âWelcome to your homesector, Officer,â the General says. Though his voice is softâas usualâit jerks you away from your thoughts.
Oh. You almost forgot youâre from here. Your heartbeat quickens as you realize, will you be able to meet your lost family today?
âIt doesnât seem familiar yet,â you say. âBut it feelsâŚâ You breathe in a lungful of fresh, wintry air. âSir, it feels like it could be home.â
The General nods in acknowledgment. âThatâs good to know,â he says. âCome, then. Weâll go to meet the king.â
The king!
So overwhelmed by the fact that youâyou!âwill get to meet royalty, you canât even form a proper response. The General seems to understand, however. He lets the two of you rest in silence again, but silence does not mean your mind gets to rest.
The General walks, of course, with his horrible posture, but today, you canât sense the tension in his shoulders. His face is relaxed, the frown lines between his brows nearly invisible. His lips, which are usually curved down, (and you thought that was a permanent feature), are set in a straight lineâan indication of happiness, maybe?
The last time youâve seen the General so relaxed, so in his element (ha!) was when he had been drunk. That thought opens the gateway of memories of that night. Heâd healed you, grasped your hand in his and tended to your wound. Heâd also repeated himself beyond what you thought was humanly possible. His words run through your head, circling your mind. But there is one line that your memory canât seem to let go of.
âIâve been looking for you.â
âHave you? Pray tell why.â
âYou are a gift from the spirits!â
Youâd glossed over it then (the situation was too funny for you to micro-analyze every word of his), but it comes back to you now in confusion. A gift from the spirits. But who are the spirits? Youâve heard that word thrown around here and there, never really understanding what it really meant. Itâs definitely the time to ask.
âSir, may I ask you something?â
âOf course, Officer.â
âThat nightâŚâ Your face brightens at the entertaining memory. âThat night that you were um, inebriated, you told me something.â
The Generalâs steps falter, and he turns to you, an empty look on his face. But his eyes teem with bewilderment. âI told you many things that night. I trust that you didnât take everything to heart.â
âI didnât.â Kind of. âBut there was something you said that I want some clarification on, sir. It seemed so natural to you and everyone else, so I thought itâd be stupid of me to say something.â
âWhat is it, Officer?â
âYou told me that Iâm a gift from the spirits.â
This time, the General really does trip. But he clears his throat and elegantly regains his balance. âItâs a straightforward compliment, Officer. Thereâs really nothing to expound upon. Unless youâd like me to say it again. Which, in that case, I wonât.â
You smile. âIt would be nice if you were to tell me that again. But I assumed what you said was a compliment. Iâm just not sure who and what the spirits are. Everyone seems to talk about them and swear by them. I feel a little lost. Thatâs all.â
The General pauses for a slight second as if to realize something. âThe spirits are the backbone of our land, Officer.â By habit, he hunches over, hands tightening behind his back. âWithout them, Solaria would not exist. Itâs simple, really. The spirits of fire, water, earth and airâSooht, Soo, Sahn and Sori. We met them in that order, too. Perhaps maybe why fire mediums are so coveted; we are the original bridge between human and spirit. Or perhaps our importance is the result of this war.â
âWe⌠met the spirits?â
âOur ancestors did. Most Solarians feel their connection through prayer or just from being able to wield their elements. You see, we have a temple where some of us pay our respects. These spirits shared their elements with us, so itâs natural for us to regard them highly, Officer.â
Now you have even more questions. What do these spirits look like? Are they transparent like Zeru is? Do they even look like humans? Why did they decide to help the Solarians and not the Darlaeans? Do they still exist today? Can you see them in the temple? Where is the temple? What does the temple look like? When was it made? You open your mouth to speak when you realize itâs been silent for quite some time (as your mind was whirring with too many inquiries). If you say something now, itâll disrupt the silence, and that would be awkward. (More awkward than it already is that youâre on a day trip with the Generalâjust you and him.) So, chewing on your lip, you vow to ask your questions some other time.
As you walk further into the city with the General, you soon come to realize the Solarians who had been busy with their own business have all stopped to bow. (No wonder it was so silent.) But the citizens stay bowed until the General passes them completely. Even children who look as young as six years old drop to a ninety-degree bow. You watch Solarians open their windows, their doors to greet the Solarian Generalâas if he were their king. You donât blame them. You canât deny that the very first time youâve seen the General, you thought he was of royal blood.
But if you know something about the General, you know that he doesnât like such grand displays of respect.
âYouâre not going to tell them to stand up, sir?â you whisper to the General, a teasing smile on your lips. You donât really expect him to give you an answer, but he does anyway.
âIâll let them pay their respects. It gives them the illusion of hope.â
Oh? âAnd how is it an illusion?â
The corner of his lips twitch. âWho am I for them to worship? I am neither the king nor a spirit.â
Your eyebrows raise. âBut sir, you command the Solarian Army,â you say. âI think that deserves real hope. Especially now that the tides of the war have turned in our favor.â
Silence. Youâre starting to think he wonât ever respond.
Then, thereâs the quiet, ever so gentle: âI suppose so.â
But the way he says it, youâre not sure if he really agrees with you. How can someone who wields so much power be so nonchalant about his gifts? Is there something that fuels his humility? Is it insecurity? Genuine kindness? Or a moment from the past that keeps him this way?
There you go again, thinking of so many questions yet never coming up with the answers.
Youâre so busy with your thoughts, you almost donât notice that the General has stopped walking. When you look up, you realize youâre standing before a beautiful home. Two-tiered and colored an enchanting shade of jade green and scarlet red, there stands the palace. Ivy runs along the walls of the massive structure and bushes sprouting golden flowers encircle the courtyard. It looks regal but welcoming.
âEarth mediums make sure those flowers are in full bloom year-round,â the General explains when he catches you staring. âGolden bells. The late king loved them, and her husband had them planted in her honor before he passed away.â
âPassed away?â
âTheir eldest son is the king now.â
There are guards waiting at the entrance to the palace who bow when you and the General walk past.
âHe must have been through a lot.â
âHeâs resilient.â
The General leads the way further into the palace and you marvel at the magnificence inside. The ceilings are high, intricate wooden designs embellishing every corner. The floor sparkles and so do the bronze decorations lined up against the wall. Palace workers bow in the Generalâs presenceâsome even offering him refreshments. He politely declines and asks where the king might be. They direct him to what they call the Throne Room.
Inside is a large, scarlet and gold seatâthe throne. Itâs empty, however. But behind the royal throne is a beautiful canvas painted with black ink. It is a drawing of the four elements. You can feel the warmth of the black flames even through the paper. Come to think of it, there are many drawings in the Throne Room. All of which have a similar style.
âThe king must like to draw,â you comment, eyes surveying the intricate art on the walls.
The General rests his hands behind his back. âHe does. But these paintings are generations old. The Park Dynasty had its fair share of talented artists. Our king is still learning, however.â
You nod silently, body turning to observe the rest of the room. On the sparkling wooden floor is a collection of wooden spinning tops, all strewn about in a disorderly fashion. Delicate kites with tangled-up strings lie around the throne. Blank and scribbled-on canvases litter the ground. All remnants of childrenâs games.
âI didnât know the king had children. It must be hard for him to raise them,â you say absentmindedly. âDoes he do it alone?â
The General looks away. And he doesnât answer your question.
Maybe he didnât hear you? But thereâs no way he didnât. You could sidestep once and stumble onto his feetâthatâs how close you are. So why is he ignoring you? Youâre about to spiral into one of your overthinking spiels when a young child bounds into the room, accompanied by two guards who leave wordlessly once they acknowledge the Generalâs presence. The childâs a tiny little thing with a chubby face, rosy cheeks and a huge smile. His round eyes light up when he catches sight of the General.
âUncle Yoongs!â he shrieks. He races toward the General and wraps his tiny arms around the manâs knees. âI missed you!â
You stiffen. Who is this child? Where are his parentsâpresumably part of the royal family? How does he know the General? More importantly, where is the king that you were promised to meet?
âI missed you too, your majesty.â Yoongi reaches down to ruffle the kidâs hair.
Your mouth drops open. âT-The⌠The Solarian King?â
The childâthe kingâgrins at you, waving his hand enthusiastically. âThatâs me!â He counts six fingers on his hand. âIâm this many years old!â he announces. âUncle Yoongs, please visit more often!â
Youâre too shocked to speak.
The General seems to notice and he crouches down to meet the childâs face. âJimin, would you like to meet someone very special?â
âYes!!â
Youâre half-expecting for him to introduce you but instead, you hear a robust neigh. Thereâs a gust of air and a familiar silvery horse gallops in. You have no idea how he got through the low-hanging door frames of the palace. Or maybe he exists with the air, so he can appear whenever he wants to. âMeet Zeru,â the General says, patting the horseâs mane. âHeâs a close friend of mine so make sure you treat him kindly, all right?â
The young kingâs eyes double in size. âAn air sol! I love him, Uncle Yoongs! I love him!â
While the king is preoccupied with Zeru, you whirl around to face the General. He avoids making eye contact with you, looking down at the floor littered with the kingâs drawings. It finally clicks. This is why the General told you that Solaria is in such dire need to win the war. Their nation is led by a six-year-old child. They absolutely need the victory. Or theyâll be eaten alive by the Darlaeans.
âHeâs the last of whatâs left of the Park Dynasty,â the General says. âHis three siblings died at birth, and the maternal king passed away during labor. Her last child was stillborn. The paternal king, Jiminâs father, passed away years ago from grief.â
Your heart aches. Elu had looked so happy, so alive. You wouldâve had no idea their royal family was bleeding with pain. âHeâs so youngâŚâ you whisper, glancing at the small child hugging Zeruâs leg. The horse is patient, nuzzling the kingâs head and whinnying softly. âBut sir, surely, a child does not rule our nation while we are at war.â
The General shifts his posture. âThe Park Dynasty and Min Clan are historically intertwined. Naturally, I was put in temporary charge.â
Ah. Now it makes more sense than before, why everyone in the village had bowed to him like he was the king. He practically is. You wonder what it feels like to carry so much responsibility. To have so many people depend on you. Youâre not sure if you could handle that, and itâs admirable that your General can.
But the six-year-old child⌠How sorrowful must he be to be orphaned and bestowed such a meaningful titleâthe Solarian King. How confused he must be. Heâs only six. What does he know about war? Hell, what does he know about death? You donât remember when you were six years old, but you imagine that even a small cut on your arm would be terrifying; how can that compare to the severed limbs of your fellow Solarian soldiers?
Yoongi watches your blank face, and he soon realizes youâre completely lost in thought. As usual. But your thoughtsâand he can tell from the slight furrowing of your browâare dark and heavy. âHis majesty doesnât understand much,â he says with his gentle voice. âThe warâs been going on for too long. He lives a sheltered life as every six-year-old child should.â
âUncle!!!â
The young king rushes over, hugging the Generalâs leg and pointing at you. âZeru said to ask you about her.â
The General smiles, ruffling the kidâs hair before turning to the majestic horse. âZeru must want to rest now. Heâs given us a long ride to the capital. Letâs let him leave, shall we?â In response, the horse neighs, tossing his head as a final goodbye. You blink and heâs already galloping away, sparkling like mist in the little stream of sunlight shining down in the Throne Room.
âIâll miss him,â the young king pouts, but he seems to get over his disappointment fairly quickly as he directs his attention to you. âAre you Uncle Yoongsâ friend?â he asks.
That sounds like a trick question. Are you even allowed to say that you are the Generalâs friend? And how can you be? Even after all this time, you barely know him. You work for him. Yes, thatâs it. âIâm just his offiââ
âYes, sheâs my friend,â the General quickly says. But he says it with a sense of urgency that makes you realize the young king must be more sheltered than you thought. Youâll play along, however.
âThe GeâI mean, Y-Yoo-uh-Yoongi wanted to tour me around Elu since Iâve never been here before,â you say. Immediately, you wish you never tried playing along. How utterly embarrassing. Why did you stutter so much trying to get his name out? Hereâs a thought: because youâve never addressed him by it before. The General might not require his soldiers to bow in his presence, but he does (wordlessly) prefer that they address him by his title or alternatively, âsir.â At least you think he does.
âThatâs not true.â The little kid crosses his arms as he looks between you and the General suspiciously.
Your heart sinks.
âUncle doesnât have any friends.â
Now that is not what you expected to hear. The king catches you so off guard that you let out a small laugh before clamping your mouth shut. But to your relief, the little kid laughs along with you, pointing at the General with a silly grin on his face. The Generalâs smiling and he shrugs when you give him an inquisitive look.
âYouâre not going to defend yourself?â you say, catching your breath.
âI really canât,â he replies, patting the young kingâs head.
âItâs okay!â the kid exclaims. He points at you. âYou can be my uncleâs first friend!â
âI thought you were my first friend,â the General says, teasing the child. âIâm hurt, Jimin.â
The king panics. âNo! That doesnât count, uncle! You know that doesnât count! Youâre always away, uncle! I have my toys and my friends, but youâre always away and you have no friends! I donât want you to be lonely.â He pouts, his plump lips pulling out dramatically. For a second, you think he might cry, and you begin to brace yourself for the wails. But the king is resilient. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand before declaring: âWhen you go away, I want her to go away with you. So you wonât be lonely.â
âYouâre right,â the General says. He pats the kingâs shoulder. âI wonât be lonely, Jimin. You donât have to worry. Y/N here is a good friend. She keeps me company.â
You have to look away.
How much of that is the truth, though? Of course, in theory, the General will never be lonelyâconstantly looking after his soldiers, constantly attending officer meetings, constantly fighting the enemy in battle⌠But so many of those relationships are fleeting. People come and go. People fight or die. Itâs also lonely at the top. How many people know who the General really is? You surely arenât one of them.
Do you even want to be?
Youâre not sure.
You jump when hands circle around your leg. When you look down, you see the young king staring up at you, eyes wide and hopeful. You want to look away again, but if you do, it might hurt him. It might make him lose his hope.
âTake care of Uncle for me,â he whispers.
His hands are so small. Less than half of your own. He barely reaches your hips. Heâs so young, but thereâs something about that look on his face⌠Itâs not the look of a sheltered child. Itâs the look of awareness. As if he knows where his uncle disappears off to after every visit. As if he knows thereâs a chance that his uncle might never come back. As if heâs depending on you.
It breaks your heart. You donât even know how to wield your element and yet the Solarian King is trusting you with the General. But the fact that youâre no longer a fire medium wonât stop you from making a promise.
âI will,â you whisper right back. âIâll take care of him.â
The childish smile is back on the kingâs face againâas if the facet of him that knows was never there in the first place. The General clears his throat. You didnât even realize that youâd been staring off into the distance until he brought you back to reality.
âIâll be back soon,â he tells the young king. âDonât worry. Y/Nâll take care of me.â
The child exclaims with joy. âCan you bring Zeru again next time?â
âOf course I will.â
The child follows you and the General all the way out to the courtyard, waving incessantly and calling his loud goodbyes. It isnât until after youâve completely left the beautiful palace grounds that your knees begin to wobble.
Youâre not sure if the General knows that the king knows.
âCareful, there,â he says in his husky voice, holding out his arm in case you need to grab on. âMaybe youâve sat down for one too many hours today.â
He doesnât know. He really doesnât know.
âIâm sorry, sir,â you manage to mumble. âItâs just⌠I wasnât⌠I really wasnât expecting that.â
âI shouldâve given you a better warning,â he replies. âBut now you know why Solaria must win.â
âIf we donât, theyâll kill us. Theyâll kill the king first, wonât they?â
The General nods. âI swore on my own grave that I would protect the last member of the Park Dynasty. I swore to the paternal king, right before he passed away. He made me promise that I would keep his son sheltered from the war. He never wanted his son involved.â
âNever? Not even after he grew older?â
âNever,â the General confirms. âHe no longer wanted the Park Dynasty involved in the war. Just the Min Clan. Just my bloodline.â
âSo he put the burden on your shoulders.â You frown. As royalty, you wouldâve expected more from the paternal kingâa little more selflessness. And look what that order has done to the country; the Solarian King and the General of the Solarian Army are the last of their bloodlines.
âI deserve it, anyway,â the General sighs. He looks down at the dirt. âWar is an ugly thing, Y/N. My clan has profited off of it for many, many years. Someone had to pay the price.â
You sense bitterness in his tone. Bitterness towards whom? The royal family? His own bloodline? Himself?
âThe king is an air and water medium,â the General says. âHis parents, the kings, forbid him from experimenting with fire. That way, he would never be drafted into the war. Because if he was drafted, he wouldâve become a slave under the Min Clan.â
âI donât trust your clan, Min Yoongi.â
âI understand, sire.â
âFor years, the Min Clan has tried to run this nation as if it was theirs, ignoring what the spirits granted the Park Dynastyâroyal blood. But youâre the runt of the clan, are you not, Min Yoongi? I happen to have trust in you.â
âSireâŚâ
âIâm dying, Yoongi. But you already knew that. My voice is awfully hoarse. My wife is dead. All but one of my children are dead. I donât have a reason to live anymore. But now that you have rightfully been appointed as my nationâs General, I can die in peace. You must take care of my son, Yoongi. He is all that is left. If he dies, Solaria dies with him. Your clan never realized that. You might control the military, but when your general dies, you may replace them. Youâve already done so countless times. But you cannot replace royal blood. Jimin is Solariaâs last hope. So I want you to promise me that you will keep him sheltered from the war. You must not tell him a single detail. Not even the fact that you are the General. I want you to die with that secret.â
âSireâŚâ
âI am asking for a lot. I know. But your family has ruined mine. Itâs embarrassing to admit, but we are rival clans, Yoongi. We tried to outlive each other. My wife died trying to produce more heirs, and Iâm dying because Iâve lost the love of my life. Iâve given up. When I die, Jimin will be the last of the Park Dynastyâas you are the last of the Min Clan. All that I ask is that he outlives you. All that I ask is that he does not know the perils and stresses of the war. All that I ask is that you repent your clanâs faults. All that I ask is to win.â
Itâs a lot to ask. Yoongi remembers heâd stayed silent, overwhelmed by the pure hatred in the paternal kingâs voice. Heâd stayed silent until the king had taken his last breath. But heâd still gone ahead and kept his promise. Not because he wants to respect the king. But because he canât punish an innocent child for the mistakes of his parents and ancestors.
âI donât think you deserve it.â
Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts.
âWhy is he punishing you for what your ancestors did to his ancestors?â
Oh. Yoongi never thought about it like that.
He stares at you with a look of astonishment.
âWhy are you paying the price? No. Why are we paying the price? No one who started the war is alive anymore, so why do we have to suffer because of them? Sir, I donât understand. I thinkâI think Iâm confused. Thereâs just no point, anymore. I want the war to stop. I canât stand it.â
Oh no. He wanted you to come here to find your reason to fight. Instead, youâve completely lost it.
Upon seeing the Generalâs blank (almost disapproving) expression, you try to extinguish the flames of anger boiling inside of you. You didnât think you would become so, so angry. It never occurred to you to question whether to fight in the war. But that was before you were introduced to this Park Dynasty and the Generalâs clan. Why did you ever think Alder was your whole world? Why did you think the army was all that existed? You wilt. The world is so much more than the military. You feel so small, so tiny compared to the larger problems looming over you.
âWe canât.â
âSorry?â
âWe canât stop the war,â the General whispers. âYou may have lost your memories fighting in battle. Others have lost their lives, their loved ones, their whole family. We canât simply stop the war. Thousands, if not millions of soldiers have sacrificed everything for this very cause. The last thing I want is to ask my soldiers to die in vain. We must finish what our ancestors have started. We must win, Officer. Thatâs the only way we can stop this terrible cycle.â Thatâs the only way he wonât feel guilty. Thatâs he wonât feel like a total failure. Thatâs the only way he can bring honor to his clan. Bring honor to his mother, who, even on her deathbed saw him as the family runt.
âWinning sounds so easy,â you say. âBut itâs not.â There are so many factorsâso many unpredictable elements that mess with the plans you want to make. But what the General says is true tooâthat theyâve gone too far to simply end the war. There must be a victor. How else could they justify the deaths of millions?
âOf course, winning isnât easy,â the General says. âBut it makes it all the more impressive when we do it.â
âWhen we do itâŚâ you trail off, watching the busy Solarians making their way across the village, holding their assorted items of baggage and chatting merrily with their neighbors. You watch earth mediums tending their small gardens, fire mediums cooking outside their homes, air mediums flying their kites and water mediums scrubbing down various surfaces. They look so happy. But you wonder how much pain theyâre hiding inside. How many of their family members have been killed in the war? Or is that too pessimistic to think? Maybe they are genuinely happy. Maybe it is your duty as an officer to carry the burden of pain so that these citizens can live in peace. Then, in that case, youâll fight for their happiness.
You and the General wander around Elu in silence. Itâs peaceful like this, taking in your homesector with your very own eyes, watching the people who could have been your neighbors. Thereâs a small part of you that wishes someone would step out from the crowd, calling your name. That someoneâwith their tear-streaked faceâwould stretch out their arms and hug you. Someone familiar. Someone who knew who you were. Someone whoâ
âWeâre here.â
The Generalâs soft voice brings you back to reality, and you blink your eyes to see a small temple made entirely of mud straight ahead of you. It looks like it had been erected straight from the groundâa natural beauty. Verdant leaves of ivy crawl in and out of the square holesâwindowsâand white flowers spiral around the temple, the fallen petals decorating the soft dirt. There is a large rectangular opening and a pitch-black entrance that follows. The simplicity of the temple is oddly alluring. It seems so connected to natureânot a single man-made element in sight.
To be quite honest, you had no idea you and the General were even walking toward a destination. While so lost in your thoughts, you were following him blindly, which says a lot about your devotion to the General. But you digress. This must be the temple where Solarians pay their respects to the spirits.
There is something incredibly powerful about it. The moment you step inside, you can feel itâan intense force that you canât quite explain. There is only one room, and the only light that streams in is from the square holes in the walls. That and the blazing fire in the center. It glows, emitting flecks of gold light, along with wisps of amber and ruby flames. Around the fireâthat somehow burns brilliant colors without any kindlingâis a ring of water, the vivid flames reflecting off of a sparkling surface that ripples from an invisible breeze. The shallow pool is filled with water so crystal clear that you can see the smoothness of the bottom. The soft waves remind you of a lullaby from farawayâa familiar comfort that you can cling onto. Blossoming lotuses slowly sway in the undulating waters, their silky, white petals fluttering along with the wind.
Itâs just nature, but itâs magical.
The four elements, so close together. Your mouth parts as your eyes reflect the beauty of the dancing flames, the rippling waters, the sparkling petals against the firelight, the persistent wafts of wind.
âCenturies ago, this was where the first Solarians were born,â the General finally says. His voice is gentler than usual, blending in with the delicate breeze and overtaken by the soft roar of the flames.
You nod, enchanted by his words as much as the sight before you.
âOur people come from the Darlaeans. We didnât approve of their disciplinary, militant rule, so we left to build a warm, welcoming community that Darlae so obviously lacked. It was a long journey that our ancestors made,â the General says. âBut we finally ended up here, in Elu, the heart of Solaria.
âHow we found another branch of âmagicâ is another story, however. A long one too. But we donât have all day, so Iâll keep it short.â He waits for you to eagerly nod before continuing.
âLet me see⌠Well, all Darlaeans are born with a gem stuck to their forehead, which falls off in due time. You must know that they use these gems to channel magic through their veins. Consequently, without their gems, they are rendered useless. Recognizing the limitations of Darlaean magic, our ancestors wanted something more permanent, a kind of magic ingrained in their own bodies, rather than magic that must depend on a medium. They created their own civilization, abandoning Darlaean magic, and began living entirely off of the landâa feat that the Darlaeans would call âpoverty.â But our ancestors were diligent. With little to no experience, they built their villages by hand, sparked fires with stones and spun baskets out of blades of grass. And soon enough, with their hard work, they were able to catch the attention of Sooht, the spirits of fire. Astonished that mere humans could be so connected to natureâand willing to respect it, tooâSooht conjured up a deal. In exchange for their precious gemstones, Sooht would share their power to create flamesâthe same kind of warmth and glow that the sun emits, the Solarians could now wield with their own will. With Soohtâs generous gesture, the Solarians were able to cook, create light and admire the beauty of fire.
âBut, of course, with this practicality, came the possibility of destruction. But the spirits of fire trusted the Solarians to use their newfound fire wielding wisely, and the Solarians did. Seeing this, Sooht, who is always the ambitious one, boasted about their deal to the other spirits, showing them these special gems theyâd acquired. They believed that these gems are only born with human life, which makes them quite pricelessâeven in the spirit world. So Soo, the spirits of water, who always trusted Soohtâs judgmentâand also wanted to gain possession of the gemsâgranted the Solarians the ability to wield waterâso no matter how hot or cold the day was, they could find something to drink. Sahn, the spirits of earth, the wisest of the bunch, watched all of this from afar and decided they would do the same. Though they believed that these gems were quite useless, they were fascinated with human nature, and they wanted to reward the Solarians for forgoing human material greed in favor of admiring the natural world. Sori, the spirits of the air, waited even longer than Sahn had. Having no interest in the gems, Sori knew they would only give the Solarians the last element if they could learn the beauty of patience, for Sori prided themselves in their ability to wait and wait and wait. Finally, after what I believe was several decades later, Sori granted the Solarians the ability to wield air.
âThis is the very place the spirits shared their eternal power with us. The fire never extinguishes, the water never freezes nor dries, the lotuses never wilt and the wind never stops blowing. They say this is where the Solarians lit their first fire under the watchful guidance of Sooht. And for that reason, this temple is directly connected with the spirits.â
âFor Soohtâs sakeâŚâ you breathe. âThatâs incredible.â Thereâs something about learning where you come from, your origins, that feels so empowering. Youâre part of a group that left the majority in search of a new beginning. A group that wasnât afraid to swim against the current. A group that followed their hearts and desires. A group that didnât want to use mediums to perform magic so became the mediums themselves.
Thereâs also something about the Generalâs narration that makes the story so much more enchanting. There is raw passion in his voice as he tells the history of his people as if he is proud to be Solarian and proud to lead an army representing his nation. There is so much knowledge and emotion instilled in his language that you wish you had all day to listen to the full tale. And to be quite honest, you could never get bored of his voice. It is the voice that commands an entire army and raises the morale of fearless soldiers. It is also the voice that can be quite snarky when he wants it to be. It is the voice that told you, a mere officer, that youâre a âgift from the spirits.â You realize now how much weight that compliment carries.
âYou have quite a dreamy look on your face, Officer.â
You jolt into reality. âUm! Sir! Uh, how can I not? I-I, well, I feel enlightened, sir.â Quickly, you divert the Generalâs attention to anotherâmore importantâsubject matter. âAre we going to pray to the spirits, now?â
âYou may if you want.â
â...Are you going to pray, sir?â
He shakes his head. âThough I acknowledge Solarian history, I donât believe that praying to the spirits will help us win the war. We thank their generosity by using what they shared with us, responsibly. We respect them by respecting the nature that they shared with us. Praying leads to excuses,â he says. âI donât want any one of my soldiers blaming their colleagueâs death on the fact that they didnât pray hard enough. The spirits are not in control of our lives. They merely gave us our wielding. So no, Officer, I will not pray.â He pauses. âYou are welcome to, however.â
But what the General tells you makes sense. Besides, if you did end up praying to the spirits, you would probably never stopâyou always have too many words inside your head, and half of them are meaningless. You doubt the spirits would want to listen. So, youâll do what sounds best: respect the spirits by respecting the land.
âI wonât pray either,â you say. âI feel like I donât know enough to, anyway.â
The General nods. âI respect that.â
Silence.
You itch to say something. Normally, silence is good. Silence is lovely. Silence is golden for Soohtâs sake. But the silence right now is awkward. Why arenât either of you saying anything? But itâs not like you have something important to say, anyway. The soft rustling of the wind doesnât sound so soft anymore; in fact, the crackling flames and whispering winds echo in the dim room, amplifying the awkwardness between the two of you. Is it because he addressed you as his friend earlier? Or did it just hit the General now that taking one of his officers on a tour of the capital is not quite normal?
Your questions shatter when the General opens his mouth to speak: âWould you like to get something to eat, Officer?â
All of your earlier doubts wash away. Who are you kidding? The silence was awkward because you are awkward peopleâthere was (probably) no underlying reason. You think.
But for Soohtâs sake, youâre starving. âYes, sir. I could devour a whole garden of spinach.â Immediately, you cringe at your own words. That wouldâve been okay to say in front of Hana (or even Doyun), but really, in front of the General? Maybe youâre getting too comfortable in his presence. But how can you not? Youâve spent so many hours with him today. It feels like you should be closer to him. But youâre really not.
âAh, a spinach-lover,â the General says. He turns around, ready to walk out of the temple, but he pauses and speaks. âI must admit, Officer, you have horrible taste. Everybody knows a garden filled with manure tastes much better than spinach.â
You stand, opened-mouthed and shocked by the Generalâs words. It takes a second for you to be offended. (Even Hana doesnât go as far as to call spinach worse than manure of all things!) But it takes another second for you to realize that the General is being snarky again. A joke! It had been a joke. Youâre almost embarrassed that you actually thought he was serious.
You roll your eyes, refusing to back down. âSir, it sounds like you have some delectable experience with horse manure. Care to share your insight as an esteemed food critic?â
The General turns around, and you see his face, dimly illuminated by the blazing fire. Amusement twinkles in his dark eyes, his thin lips curving up ever so slightly. âI would, but the capital has food that canât compare to spinach and manure. Shall we?â He gestures outdoors, and with a grin on your face, you follow him out into the light.
Pawns. Theyâre just pawns. Theyâre nothing but pawns.
âWeâll move these forces out west. All sectors. Tell them to fight with more power. Itâs embarrassing how weak we are compared to the Darlaeans.â
âYoonsoo, Iâm not sure pushing our soldiers from all of our sectors into battle will help our case. There will be more unnecessary casualtiesââ
âItâs General Min to you.â
âDoes that really matter? Weâre discussing lives, Yoonsoo. I think you can handle me calling you by your name.â
But Yoonsoo was always stubborn, and his stubbornness only grew with age.
âThen I want you out of my tent.â
âYouâre serious.â
âIf you wonât address me properly, you deserve no place in this tent.â
That was the day Yoongi was humiliatingly kicked out of an officer meeting by his own younger brotherâall eyes had been on him as he shamefully left. And that battle planâthe one that Yoongi had so strongly disapproved ofâwas put into action. It was a massacre.
So many diedâand for such little cause. And the ones who did survive came to resent their General. It was no secret that Yoonsoo treated his soldiers like his disposable pawns. It was also no secret that Yoonsoo chased after power. He fought for himself and himself onlyâthere was nothing that he did that was for the good of his soldiers (or even Solaria, for that matter). As a result, he wasnât very popular amongst the people. Yoongiâs seen the dirty looks they threw behind their Generalâs back. Heâs heard the things theyâd sayâthat theyâre waiting for him to die, that theyâre waiting for him to get so severely injured that he wouldnât be able to lead the army. He supposes Yoonsoo deserves some of that. After all, heâd torn apart thousands of relationships with reckless battle plans.
But when Yoongi looked at Yoonsoo, all he saw was his little brother. The same little brother who grew up with two looming shadows over himâhis older brother and sister.
âBrother!!!â
âSh⌠Donât cry, youâll wake up Mother and Father. Yoonsoo, why is your cheek bruised?â
âI didnât mean to disappoint Mother! I really didnât! Itâs justâIâm not good enough, Brother. But I want to be. I want to be like you and Sister. Why am I never enough? I wish I was never born! I donât want to be punished anymore, Brother. Iâd rather die than not be good enough!â
âShhhâŚâ Heâd embraced Yoonsoo. Yoongi had also wishedâyears laterâthat heâd said something kinder to his brother. Something that touched Yoonsoo so much that he grew into a kind, compassionate person. Instead, Yoongi had offered a solution. Just like he always does. âIâll teach you to be good enough, Yoonsoo. Here, Iâll even get rid of that bruise.â
âNo!â His brother had slapped his hand away. âDonât you dare use your water wielding on me! Thatâs witchcraft!â
âNo, itâs not.â
âBut youâre not allowed to wield the other elements! Mother would slap you too!â
âOnly if you tell her.â
âI wonât tell her, Brother. You know I wonât.â
âDo you still want me to teach you? Youâre not scared that Iâll perform witchcraft on you? What if I do it secretly, in the dead of the night?â
âYou tease me, but I know you wonât.â
âHow are you so sure?â
âMother says air mediums are too soft. Weak-hearted. You wouldnât have the guts.â
Yoonsoo didnât respect a lot of things. Among those were the healers in his own campground, his soldiers who wielded more than one element and Yoongi, his own brother. Even so, Yoongi cared for himâmore than heâs ever cared for anything in his life. He just doesnât understand why heâs been thinking of his brother so often these past few circas.
No. Actually, he does know. Itâs because of you.
You waltz into his life without your memories, and for some reason, that triggers his own.
âYou have quite a dreamy look on your face, sir.â
Yoongi blinks. He realizes heâd been holding his spoon in his hand for the pastâwho knows how longâstaring at his tray of warm rice and assorted side dishes. Itâs such a wonderful meal, but heâd been completely lost in his memories.
âWould you prefer we pick up some horse manure for you?â you say when he doesnât answer.
The General blinks again, and this time when he does so, it looks like heâs alive again. âThere would be no need to do such a thing.â
You smile. âAll right, then. This is delicious, by the way. I donât know how Iâm going to go back to eating mugwort porridge every day. Oh! That just reminded me. Hana says Elu has good bread. I think she was joking when she said she wanted Captain Imâs autograph, but since I didnât quite get her that, I think the least I can do as her friend is to get her some bread. She loves bread.â
The General smiles, his cold exterior melting at your warm words. âWeâll visit the bakery, then.â
Eluâs streets are less busy now, but children have come out to play, and they crowd around you and the General as you walk past the shops lined up along the dirt road.
âUncle, uncle!â they call him, chasing after him as if he really is their uncle, as if, despite his polished uniform and intimidating aura, heâs their older brother who they have the joy of reuniting with.
Your eyes widen as you watch the General play along with the children. They latch onto his arms, hanging onto them and swinging their legs back and forth. Others wrap their arms around his legs. Itâs a funny sight to see the General trying to match your pace while simultaneously hauling four to five kids latched onto his limbs. So you slow down for him.
âUncle, uncle! Iâm taller than Hyunhee, now!â
âUncle, Iâm learning to be a fire medium just like you!â
âUncle, where are you going?â
âUncle, when are you leaving?â
âUncle? Who is she?â a wide-eyed child asks, pointing his finger at you.
âSheâs Y/N,â he answers. âMy friend. We happen to be on our way to the bakery. Do you want to play a fun game? Why donât you pretend youâre escorting the General of the Solarian Army to a very, very important meeting?â
The kids squeal at his words, and those who had been hanging onto his arms and legs detach themselves in favor of lining up on either side of you and the General. The young fire mediums carry flames in their hands, holding them up to illuminate a bright path. They take this game very seriously, sinking into a deep bow every time you and the General pass them.
A stroke of genius on the Generalâs part.
Heâd also called you his friend. The first time he did it was to keep the young king ignorant. The second time, it almost sounded like he meant it. Or are you being delusional? These are kids youâre talking aboutâthe General seems to have a habit of keeping them sheltered away from the war.
Now youâre overwhelmed, seeing so many unfamiliar faces so near you. It doesnât help that they are children. You donât know how to act around themâtheir enthusiastic, worry-free faces. Theyâre so different from you. So small, so carefree and dancing about with such blithe. On the other hand, you are weighed by your thoughts, your every word, your actions. How could you possibly understand them, and they, you? It astonishes you even more that somehow, such an intimidating man like the General can be so good with children. He seems to lower his barriers around them, seems to show them his gentler sideâa side that youâve caught rare glimpses of in the campground. Itâs interesting how many different facets he has.
âFlaming hell!â The Bakery Man nearly collapses when he sees you and the General walk into his shop. âO-Oh for Sahnâs sake. Sir! And⌠sir?â He looks at you questioningly. âThe Lieutenant?â
Your eyes widen. âOh, no! No.â You? The Lieutenant? Thatâs quite laughable. Only Doyun could handle that kind of immense responsibility. âIâm just his⌠Iâm his⌠friend.â
The Bakery Man quirks an eyebrow. He eyes your scarlet uniform, but nods. âHis friend, you say? Well, I canât let you leave without a fresh batch of bread! Here, come take some. Oh, for Sahnâs sake, my children adore you, sir. They wouldnât believe this if I told them!â
âI think your children have already met me,â the General says kindly. He gestures outdoors where a crowd of children press their faces together in hopes of getting a closer look at the General in the bakery. At the front of the crowd, however, are two little girlsâwho have a striking resemblance to their fatherâwaving ardently and giggling with mirth.
âTheir dream is to join your army, sir. If youâll take them,â the Bakery Man says. âTheyâre earth mediums for now, but theyâre learning from the blacksmith the works of fire wielding. We would be so honored if you took them in your army one day.â
âThere you go again! Spewing out bullcrap!â A new, shrill voice comes around from behind the counter. A tall woman stands up, towering over the Bakery Man and glaring down at the General. âHow fucking dare you come into our shop? And how fucking dare you tell him to draft our children!â she yells at her husband.
Youâre shocked, unsure of what to say and what to think. You look at the General for guidance, and you see that the tension in his shoulders is back again. Heâs on guard, but his face is completely void of emotion.
âI married you so our children wouldnât be cursed with fire wielding!â the woman screams. âAnd youâre going to allow them to learn so you can ship them off to war? They die there, donât you know?â
âThey are willing to make that sacrifice so we can win the war, honey! Isnât it time to stop this madness?â
âBut theyâre seven years old!â the woman cries. âWhat do they know about sacrifice?â She turns angrily to the General, about to speak, but then her gaze lingers on you. âYou!â she shrieks. âYouâre a slave to this man, donât you know? For centuries, his clan has used the lives of innocent people to further their power. Why are you his bodyguard? This man does not deserve to be protected. He deserves to die for the thousands of deaths heâs ordered! He must have no shame, barging into my shop like this. Get out! I demand you to leave!â She huffs, nearly out of breath as she glares at you and the General through the slits of her eyes.
Itâs silent for a while. Almost as if everyoneâs holding their breaths. Then:
âIâm sorry.â
You whirl around at the General, wide-eyed. Heâs apologizing? Why? She mentioned that youâre a slave to himâthat his soldiers are practically his slaves. But doesnât she understand that the General is a slave to this war too? Heâs doing his best! Doesnât she see that? Canât she understand? Did she think he wanted to see thousands of his men killed off? And how could you be his bodyguard? You donât know how to wield any of the elements. The General showed you mercy, showed you kindness when you most needed it. And to talk about him as if he is a selfish man!
The young kingâs words echo in your head. Take care of Uncle for me. It makes your fists tighten, and you begin to chew on your lip. You canât possibly let someone disrespect the General like thisânot when he lives for Solaria, the good of everyone. Heâs the kindest man you know, and thereâs no reason for anyone to hate him for what he had no choice but to do. But just as youâre about to offer the woman a piece of your mind, the General places a gentle hand on your arm. As if to placate you. Your eyes widen as you look at him curiously.
Of course, the woman takes this as an invitation to continue talking. âYouâre sorry!â she laughs. âIâm sure you are. Get out. And donât ever talk to my children again!â
The General nods. âI really am. I am sorry.â
âIâm sorry.â
âGeneral MinâŚâ
A wry laugh had come from his brotherâs lips. âOh, so now that Iâm dying you decide to address me by my proper title? Hmph. But I really am sorry.â
Yoongi had found his brother bleeding out in his tent. It had been just minutes after a battle. The severely injured had already been rushed into the medical tents. But for some reason, Yoonsoo had stumbled into his own tent, clutching his wounds and refusing medical attention.
âSorry?â Yoongi had tried to speak amidst the tears rolling down his chin. âYoonsoo, donât say bullshit like that. Youâll be fine. Iâll just heal youââ
âDonât.â
âThe people need their General.â
âThe people think Iâm a monster.â
âYoonsooâŚâ
âYouâre not saying anything because you know that Iâm right.â
âSo youâre just going to bleed to death?â
âIâm a little more poised than that, Brother. Donât you know? Iâm part of the Min Clan. I want to issue an apology. A formal one.â
And then, with his shaking, bloodied hand, heâd handed Yoongi a scrollâsmudged with ink and blood.
âPlease read this in front of myâyourâarmy after I die.â
âWhat do you mean, after you die? For Soohtâs sake, Yoonsoo, youâre terrifying me!â
Heâd smiled. That bastard had smiled.
âI deserve to die, Brother. All the lives I threw away⌠All the times I refused to console crying soldiers. All the times I forced them into one battle after the next even when they were grieving and in pain. All the times I unnecessarily drafted good people only to lose them in battle⌠Iâd rather die than not be good enough. Iâm a horrible General, Brother. Itâs time that I face the consequences.â
âYou canât leave me!â Yoongi had begun to panic, then. His only living family member, declaring their imminent death before his eyes⌠heâd refused to accept it.
âYouâll be a better General than I ever was. Than Mother ever was, too.â
âYoonsoo!â
âIâm sorry Iâm such a shitty person.â
Tears had fallen down Yoongiâs cheeks.
âYou wasted so much of your time teaching me, helping me. But I stepped over you and took the place that was rightfully yours. Iâve fucked everything up, Brother. I canât live with myself, now. The Solarians deserve a leader who can lead. They donât want a tyrant.â
His breaths had staccatoed. Yoongi knew, deep down, if he really wanted to, he wouldâve healed his brother right then and there. But there had been agony in Yoonsooâs voice. Terrible, terrible pain. Regret. Living for him wasnât worth it anymore. Heâd find peace and solace if he were dead.
But thereâs a part of Yoongi that is weak. He doesnât know how to lead. What does he know about garnering the spirits of thousands amidst such grueling conditions? His brother, his mother, even his sisterâthey had charisma, a certain charm that turned heads their direction. But Yoongi? He has a shitty posture and what his mother berated him for years: a âbad attitude.â
âI wonât be a tyrant,â heâd promised his brother. âBut I canât promise that Iâll be a good leader.â
Yoonsoo had laughed. âWhatever you do, youâll do it better than I did. Just⌠just make sure you get my formal apology out.â
Theyâd held each otherâYoongi soaked in his brotherâs bloodâuntil he felt his brother go limp and cold.
Itâs a whirlwind after that. To this day, he canât quite remember what exactly happened. But he does remember standing in front of a crowd of desolate people, nervous and fidgeting. Heâd read his brotherâs apology, and it took all that was inside of him to keep himself from crying. In his dying words, Yoonsoo had poured out his heartâthe same heart that heâd kept so cold and closed off from everyone else. He tried to change things before he died. Make amends. Just like his mother did. Itâs not his fault that nobody took it well.
They celebrated his death. They said he only apologized so the spirits would deal with him kindly in the spirit world. They said he only apologized so he could uphold his family name.
And it hurts. It hurt then and it hurts now.
They saw him as a heartless tyrant. All Yoongi could see was forgiveness. They thought he died to escape the war. Refused medical attention and died alone in the regality of his tent like the coward he really is. But Yoongi knew he died to punish himself, for what Yoonsoo wanted most was not escape. He wanted glory. He wanted power. But he realized such power comes with a price. The price of being responsible not only for yourself but also for others. It was a price he couldnât afford, no matter how much ambition he had in his heart. He grew up fending for himself, competing with others. He never knew how to care. Until the day he died.
So the Solarian Army rested on Yoongiâs shoulders, and Yoongi vowed to be kind to his people but ruthless to the enemy. He vowed to be better than his family, and by doing that, he would uphold his clanâs reputation. His soldiers will follow him into the light. And heâll lead them there.
âApologizing wonât bring back my sisterâs life.â
The General meets the womanâs eyes, but he refuses to look away. âIt wonât. But it is due to my soldiersâ sacrifices that allow you to keep your shop open. It is due to their sacrifice that there is no blood on the streets and your children can look at the war with such admiration. It is due to their sacrifice that food is plentiful. And it is thanks to soldiers like your sister that we may be able to claim victory. That we will no longer need any more sacrifices. I assure you, my soldiers do not die in vain. Nor do I believe their deaths give me more power. The only power I hold is the burden of death on my shoulders. It is a power I want just as much as you want me to have it. So, please, you do not have to respect me. Especially not my clan. But do respect my soldiers who voluntarily give their hearts for the soil youâre standing on. Please, honor their bravery and their sacrifice. That is all that I ask of you.â
The woman is speechlessâjust as you are.
The General couldâve told her how disrespectful she wasâto dare to question a man who commands a massive army and a kingdom all by himself. But he chose sympathy. He chose to downplay his involvement in the favor of uplifting his soldiersâ sacrifices.
The General fixes his sleeves, awkwardly sniffling his nose as he surveys the bakery. âNow, I hope this isnât too much to ask,â he says gently, cautiously, as if he hadnât just given a charismatic speech. âBut my friend and I would like to buy some bread.â
âI suppose you canât always please everyone,â you say, carrying the woven basket of bread tightly in your arms.
The General hums. âIf I did start pleasing everyone, Iâd be worried.â
You cock your head. âWhy?â
âIt would mean Iâm being a tyrant,â he says. âThe last thing I want to do is scare everybody into agreement.â
âHow considerate, sir.â
He blows air through his nose, and you realize you might have sounded a tad bit sarcastic, though you had been very genuine.
âWait, I didnât mean that.â
âYou didnât mean that Iâm considerate?â the General says. He raises his brow and looks at you inquisitively. But thereâs that humorous glint in his eye that tells you heâs not being as serious as he seems to be. Maybe youâll play along.
âMaybe I didnât,â you say, a small smile finding its way onto your lips. âOr maybe I did.â
Out of the corner of your peripheral vision, you catch the General rolling his eyes. But he doesnât look annoyed. The tension in his shoulders has dissipated once again. What follows is silence, but itâs the comfortable kindâone where both you and the General acknowledge each otherâs presence and still feel relaxed enough to say nothing. Neither of you feels the particular need to comment further on what had happened in the bakery. Everything that needed to be said, had already been said.
Then:
âWe should get going,â the General suddenly says, staring at the setting sun painting pastel colors in the sky. âIf we leave now, weâll be back by nightfall.â
You almost forgot that Elu isnât where youâre supposed to stay. You have a home to go back to. A warm cot and a cozy tent.
The ride back is just as silent as it was in the morning. But this time around, you donât mind the silence. Itâs time that you accept that when lost in thought, both you and the General live in your own worlds.
So you breathe in the fresh, night air, take in the starry black sky and watch the tips of the shadowy trees graze your vision. And you suddenly wonder if youâd made a large blunder.
Shouldnât you have asked someoneâanyoneâabout your past? Eluâs your homesector, so someone shouldâve known of your existence. Would any of the children have known? Should you have asked then? Should you have tried to ask the baker? Maybe even plead to the bakerâs wife (who still glared daggers into the General even after his speech)? Youâre leaving your birthplace knowing as much about yourself as you first arrived there.
And what about the other connections you have in Elu? Should you have tried to find Joonâs husband? You know how much the healer worries about him. Should you have brought some bread to him? Introduced yourself? Or is that weird? Joonâs husband doesnât even know you. Why would you visit him? What if he doesnât like soldiers, too?
No matter how much the General may plead, there will still be people like the bakerâs wife. People who are afraid and angry that they will lose their loved ones in war. People who you canât necessarily call selfish, for how can you blame them? Who wants to see their loved ones suffer? Who wants to see themselves suffer?
You donât want to suffer. But itâs better that you doâsomeone with no past, no loved ones, no memoriesâthan a person with everything to lose. So youâll sacrifice yourself too.
When you first woke up in the vast Alder lands nearly four circas ago, you vowed to fight for yourself. To fight for your own life and your own survival. You trusted no oneânot even yourself. But youâre coming to terms with who you are now, and youâve put your trust in good people. So now, youâll fight for the end of the war. Even if your sacrifice wonât allow you to see its end, you hope that youâll bring the two sides a little closer to it.
It also abruptly dawns on you the reason the General insisted on taking you to visit Elu. The reason he allowed you to see the Solarian King, the reason he escorted you into the temple, the reason he didnât put up a bigger fight in the bakery.
âSir?â
The General jumps slightly and you can feel the warmth of his hand on your waist shift. âWell, wasnât that sudden?â he casually comments, but you can tell heâs curious about what you have to say.
âThank you.â
He shifts again. âWhatever for?â
âFor helping me find a reason to fight in the war.â
Yoongi ducks his head and smiles to himself. You donât have to say it out loud for him to know that youâve learned more today than what the war campground can ever offer you. Though spending one day at the capital wonât encompass what the other soldiers in his army know, perhaps this is enough knowledge to fuel you.
He shifts his hand on your waist again, hoping that youâre not too cold in the brisk night air. He looks upward towards the sky and watches the starlight rain down, casting both light and shadow on the peaks of the forest trees. In times like this, he feels safe. Safe from his military duties, safe from his royal duties, safe from blood and gore and guts and wicked Darlaean spells. Though itâs dark, he can still make out your shadow in the dimness.
Itâs quite strange.
Heâs not so sure why, but thereâs something peculiar about you. Ever since he met you, he had felt it. Itâs not very often that someone can pique his interest so, for after a while, even meeting new faces becomes old (guiltily enough). He wanted you to come to the capital with him so you can find your reason to fight. But maybe there was a hidden, underlying reason in his heart that he hasnât quite come to terms with yet. A reason that heâs made such an effort to be close to you.
He shakes his head.
Thereâs something definitely peculiar about you. Yet heâs not sure whether this peculiarity is good or bad. But it does make him want to seek you out amongst the thousands of soldiers in his army.
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⨰ a/n: college has taken away all my free time so writing has been a little slower than usual đ BUT how did y'all like the date day that these two spent together?
please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!
⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nationâotherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.
⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15
⨰ warnings: profanity, minor injuries, mentions of blood
⨰ wordcount: 7.0k
⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)
⨰ a/n: thank you so much @the-berry-named-ari for beta-reading!! <3
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â§â§Circa Citrineâ§â§
There was a vote.
âHow can she be a part of our inner circle when she hasnât connected with her element yet??â
âWe have never heard of her until three months ago and weâre willing to put our heart and souls into trusting her?â
âBut sheâs crucial to our battle plans, is she not?â
âThe Lieutenantâs right. If it werenât for her, weâd still be losing the war. Itâs thanks to her that weâve all been able to relax a little.â
âThe Darlaeans attacked from the north in the third sector battle. She was right. We won again. I say we trust her.â
And now, you have officially given up your healer duties to become a full-time officer. The vote was closeâeight nos and eight yeses. The General had been the last to decide. And his decision is what keeps you on the team.
âCongratulations,â he tells you. âYouâve made it.â
You remember being so happy that youâd nearly lost your balance. The General just watches you carefully, hands behind his back and shoulders slouched. âThank you! Oh, thank you so much!â
âThereâs no reason to thank me,â he says. As if he wasnât the person whoâd voted in your favor. âBut I do expect you to work harder than ever. Now that youâve been relieved from your healing duties, youâll be expected to plan most of our battlesâif not, all.â
âYes, sir! Iâll do my best, sir!â
The corners of his lips twitch upward. âIâve sent the Lieutenant off to Elu along with Captain Im to study monocode. We intend on cracking the code that youâve brought to our attention.â
Oh. Your heart sinks. Should you tell him? Sever, sever, sever⌠The word begins to echo in your head again. Get out! you yell at it. Thereâs something that has been nagging at you ever since your first officer meeting. Something that is unexplainable; something that might not even be worth saying out loud. But the General looks at you expectantly, and you suddenly feel the pressure to say something. âSir? I⌠I think the code might shift soon.â
His eyebrows raise. âOh?â
âItâs a gut feeling, really,â you say sheepishly. âIâm sure Iâm wrong. But the code seems like a message. And if it is a message, Iâm sure there will be more words involved.â
âBut a message to whom?â
âIâm asking myself the same question, sir.â
The General lets out a deep breath. âWell, then. We can never be too vigilant. Soon, weâll know monocode and weâll be able to confirm the cipher. We can worry about the possibility of a code shift later. Do you need more matches?â
The last part is so sudden that you have to pause for a moment to contemplate whether youâd heard him correctly. âMore matches, sir?â You look down at your boots, feeling a little shameful. You go through an embarrassing number of them every day just to keep yourself warm. Itâs another problem to have enough visible light to write at night. âIâd hate to diminish the match supplyâŚâ
âDonât be dense. Most people here light their own fires.â
Right. Sometimes, you forget that Solarians are connected to the elements. Sometimes, you forget that you were once a fire medium.
âWell, in that case, Iâve run out of matches, sir.â
âThat wasnât so hard to admit, was it?â the General says. But the way he says it almost makes it sound like heâs teasing you. The stoic look on his face says otherwise, however.
âI suppose it wasnât.â
Thereâs a moment of silence while the two of you stare into each otherâs eyes. For some reason, you canât quite look away. In that time, you notice that there are slight creases above his sharp-shaped eyes, the soft lines running along the top of his eyes and halting down at the corner. The blacks of his eyes twinkle with what you discern as curiosity. And you can only hope that heâs trying to figure you out just as youâre trying to figure him out.
Then, the General clears his throat, straightening his shitty posture for a millisecond before slouching again. It interrupts the quiet staring contest and youâre forced to focus on his words. âIâll see you later in the meeting, Officer,â he says. âGood day.â
âGood day,â you repeat as you watch him walk away.
And just like that, you find a steady rhythm to your new life. With your past obliterated, you work hard to make new memories in the present. Most of these memories are goodâyou working in the medical tent with Joon, meeting up with Hana when sheâs free, talking with some officers who do approve of your involvement. Of course, there are still those who distrust you. Mainly, Captain Chu. But youâre sure he has his stubborn reasons. You hear from Hyojung that heâd tried to convince all the officers to vote against you. It obviously hadnât worked. And youâre glad some of the officers regard you with warmth.
There are moments when an officer will walk up to you and strike up a pleasant conversation. You come to enjoy their companyâespecially Major Hyunâs. Sheâs a kind, older woman who, as an earth medium, is very knowledgeable about the different plants and crops growing in the Alder terrain. She shows you her gardenâfull of potatoes and yamsâand never sends you back to your tent empty-handed. In the next few days, your stomach is full of warm, freshly baked vegetables.
You help Major Hyun plant more pumpkins for Hanaâs favorite porridge. And with her special touch, the pumpkins are ready to harvest in just a few days.
âIâd love to be an earth medium someday,â you tell her, eyes twinkling as they glaze over the soft soil and verdant leaves coiling around the healthy crops.
The older woman smiles, her forehead wrinkling as she does so. âMaybe youâll learn one day. I think you have the right temperament.â
âReally?â
âOf course, Ryu.â She pats your back before she hands you a ripe, roasted pumpkin. You realize she must have cooked it with her own fire wielding. âShare this with your friend, why donât you?â
You take the still-warm pumpkin in your hands, already thinking of how happy Hana will be to see it. âI will. Thank you, Major.â
Hana is absolutely thrilled with the pumpkin, and she grasps your shoulders in gratitude. âY/N! They rarely give out whole pumpkins! You are a lifesaver! You know the one food thatâs almost as good as bread?â
âPumpkin?â You take a wild guess.
âYes! How did you know? Never mind that.â She pats your shoulder and leans back, grinning. âLook at you, in your new uniform! Redâs definitely your color, Y/N. And those two notchesâŚâ Her eyes sparkle as she gazes at the neck of your uniform. âYouâre not going to make me bow in your presence now, are you?â She gasps. âShould I start calling you Officer?â
âHana!â you laugh. âI swear, nothingâs changed. Theyâve just given me new clothes, thatâs all.â
âBut youâre a part of the officer meetings now,â Hana sings. âHow incredible is that?â She takes the pumpkin from you and twirls and twirls around with it in her hands. âJust imagine. Being in the same tent as some of the best fighters in all of Solaria! The General, the Lieutenant⌠Major Ki and Captain Chu! Ugh, the best duo. You should see them in battle, Y/N. Sometimes, I forget that Iâm on the battlefield when I watch them fight.â
âHana!â you gasp. âThat could cost you your life!â
âOh, no,â she says, shaking her head with a grin on her face. âBut Major Ki would save me. She saves everyone. She swoops in like the spirits and obliterates anyone who tries to hurt her soldiers. Oh, to be saved by Major Ki!â
She seems so shy in the meetings, barely able to meet peopleâs gazes. But you refuse to burst Hanaâs bubble. âThey wouldnât put her in charge of the third sector for no reason,â you say instead.
âOf course they wouldnât! Sheâs an amazing leader, Y/N. And sheâs soft-spoken,â Hana squeals. âBut that makes her even more admirable! Kind of like the General. They can whisper, but the whole crowd will freeze just to listen to them. Anyways, have you seen her rings?â
More like have you heard her rings. Theyâre always clinking during the meetings; Major Ki has quite the habit of fidgeting her hands when sheâs nervous or deep in thought.
âTheyâre pretty,â you say. âBut I noticed that she changes them out every day.â On the days that the officer meetings go on for hours, you busy yourself by counting the Majorâs rings. âShe must have an extensive collection.â
Hana snorts. âOh, Y/N. She changes her rings every day because she dispenses them every day.â When you cock your head in confusion, Hana continues on. âWe call her the Flare Shot,â she says in a dramatic voice. âMajor Kiâs lethal in battle. They say she can take out ten Darlaeans with one swipe of her hand. You know how she does this?â
You thought it was a rhetorical question, but when Hana looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer, you realize you have to speak. So you make a weak guess. âUm⌠Magic?â
Hana grins. âIt sure looks like magic. Iâve seen her do this, Y/N. Itâs crazy. Sheâll just throw out her hand and her rings will shoot out from her fingers. But theyâre heated to severe temperatures, of course. They can pierce through the skin, several organsââ
âThatâs terrifying!â you say. You canât imagine being on that receiving end.
âIt is,â Hana says dreamily. âI wish I could do a cool move like that. Have a name called the Flare Shot. Have I mentioned her boyfriend?â
How could you forget Captain Chu? The man who still distrusts you. Youâre beginning to think that heâll never warm up to you.
âTheyâre the iconic duo! Did you know they met in Ara? Thatâs where Major Kiâs originally from, and even then, she never liked her connection with water. So one day she severed it and never looked back. But Captain Chuâs first element was fire. A rare fire medium in such a water-loving environment. Apparently, he had a huge crush on our major ever since they were little. Isnât it so romantic? He followed her to war! And now heâs her second-in-command!â
You cannot imagine Captain Chu devoting his life to a singular person and in the name of love. âThey seem happy together,â is what you manage to say. âCaptain follows all of her orders.â
âHe knows to trust her,â Hana says. âWe all know to trust her. Sheâs⌠Well, if anything happens to, you know, her superiors, we all know sheâll be the one to step up. We donât like to say it out loud, but we all know it.â
âRightâŚâ
The mood is suddenly glum.
Sensing a shift in the atmosphere, Hana quickly changes the topic. âAnyways! You have to tell me about the other officers soon. Iâm a huge fan of Captain Im. Sheâs a young prodigy from Eluâstudied twenty different subjects and wrote four books herself! So if you can even get her autographââ She places a dramatic hand on her forehead. âI would love you forever!â She twirls around, the pumpkin wrapped tightly in her arms. âIâm going to have to leave for training, but Iâll see you later!â
In one single swoop, Hana gives you a ninety-degree bow. âMy warmest regards, Officer,â she says in the most serious voice she can muster up given her enthusiasm about the pumpkin. Sheâs teasing you, and it makes you smile.
âIâll see you later,â you mumble, watching Hana prance off to her designated training area, ready to be coached by her idolsâMajor Ki and Captain Chu. You have no idea where sheâll keep that pumpkin though. Maybe you shouldâve offered to hold onto it in the meantime.
Either way, something about Hana is painstakingly familiar to you. You canât let go of the strong shock that had washed over your body the last time sheâd grasped your hands. Every time she talks to you, every time she looks your way and throws you one of her fantastic grins, you canât help but feel a pang in your heart. She feels so familiar. Yet, at the same time, so out of reach.
You try to shake the thoughts away. Youâre being desperate again. Hanaâs a good friend, and if sheâs like someone you knew from your past, so be it. This shouldnât keep you awake at night. Itâd be silly.
But you still canât sleep.
The days drone on, and with your title as Officer Ryu, youâre not obligated to spend your days in the medical tent anymoreâwhich is fine by you, but sometimes, you like to help alleviate some of Joonâs workload.
âWelcome back, Officer!â
Namjoon always greets you with open arms. And then he pats your back and gives you a fresh load of work to do.
You spend most of your mornings taking care of soldiers, washing bloody rags, replacing bandages and often glancing at the entrance of the tent. Who youâre waiting for, youâre not quite sure. But every time a soldier stumbles inâsomeone youâre not quite expectingâyou feel yourself deflate.
âYou know, you donât have to work here anymore.â
You nearly spill the bucket of water youâd been carrying. âGeneral!â Why and how does this man always manage to creep up behind you when you least expect it?
The General raises his eyebrows. âYes?â
âItâs just that I didnât think youâd be here.â
âThatâs funny,â he says, drawing out each word. âBecause I didnât think youâd be here, either.â
âWell, I figured Iâd make use of my time,â you say, holding up the soiled water bucket to show him proof of your hard work. âBut sir, why are you here?â
He gestures at his leg as if to show you salient evidence. âIâm injured.â
Heâs right. Thereâs a shallow gash on his upper thigh where his uniform is cut, revealing an unkind mixture of ruptured skin and scarlet blood. You wince at the vivid image.
But itâs strange. Canât the General heal himself? Youâve heard that heâs skilled enough to become a healer; in fact, youâve seen him working in the medical tentârespected by others not only because heâs the General of the Army but also because heâs a masterful medic.
So why is he here?â
He stares at you, black eyes flitting down to the two notches on your uniform before staring back into your eyes again. âWell? Are you going to direct me to a healer or are you insisting that you can heal me by yourself?â
âIâm just a little confused, sir. Youâre a talented healer, so I thoughtâŚâ you trail off, wondering if youâre sounding insolent in the Generalâs presence. Just because he can heal doesnât mean he has the energy to do soâespecially straight out of a battle. You realize your mistake, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.
But the General makes no indication that youâve offended him with your audacity. Instead, he looks you straight in the eyes and says: âWell, then. I suppose this was all an excuse to speak to you.â
Speak to you? Your eyes widen. âSir?â
âItâs nothing groundbreaking. Just a small message from Doyun.â
Oh. He went through quite an excuse to relay it. Contrary to your thoughts: âReally? Is she coming back soon?â
âShe wants you to know that she thinks ill of me for sending her to Elu instead of Major Hyun or maybe even you,â the General says. âSays learning monocode is not fun, especially next to a prodigy like Captain Im. Of course, she knew that the message would have to go through me before you got it, but I suppose that didnât really stop her from changing her words.â
You smile. Of course Doyun would do this. âThank you for the message, sir.â
âShe also wants you to water her pansies.â
âOf course.â A pause. âIs that all?â
A pause on his end. âYes.â
You and the General stare at each other for a bit longer before he begins to step backwardâwith a slight limp. It looks a lot like the conversation is over. But⌠âDo you still want me to call for a healer?â you ask, gesturing towards his injured leg.
âIâm fine,â he calls, already halfway out of the tent. âI think Iâll live.â
Heâs gone before you can protest. Another encounter with the General that deep down inside, you wish that couldâve lasted longer. Why does he always leave like that?
Itâs a stupid question, you realize. Of course heâs going to leave. Heâs a busy man. Why would he waste his time talking to you? And why would you waste your time thinking that he wouldnât want to waste his time? Sometimes, you wish your mind could stop workingâmaybe even for a split second. Why do you overthink so much?
But itâs then when you realize youâre overthinking overthinking. And soon, you begin to overthink overthinking overthinking. Really, the treacherous cycle never ends.
As a week passes, you busy yourself with activities outside the medical tent. Like watering Doyunâs pansies, then decorating your own tent with wildflowers from around the campground (your tent now feels cozy and a lot like home) and even spending time getting to know your officers.
Captain Yoo of the third sector has water clock duty every so oftenâa duty that most officers and soldiers like to shy away from. But Captain Yoo is diligent and dutiful. You like to watch him use his water wielding to scrub the clock clean and check if the mechanisms are working smoothly. Most times, the two of you keep each other company in silence. Other times, heâll initiate some small talk that begins to dwindle down after a few minutes. You like that he doesnât have much to say.
Today, though, you feel comfortable enough to share whatâs been on your mind for a while now. âCaptain Yoo?â you say.
âYes, Officer Ryu?â he asks, barely looking up from the towering water clock.
âDoes Captain Chu take a long while to warm up to people?â
âNo, I suppose not.â
Your heart sinks. âIn that case, I think he hates me.â
At that, Captain Yoo finally looks up. Heâs smiling, whisker dimples spreading across his cheeks. âDoes that bother you, Officer?â
Why wouldnât it? âYes, it does. Maybe I shouldnât have told him his ears are stuffed with bullshit. I definitely went too far⌠And if he does hate me, I want to change that.â
To your surprise, Captain Yoo begins to laugh. Itâs the first time youâve heard him laugh, and itâs a little disconcerting to know that heâs laughing at nothing particularly funny.
âOfficer, you donât always need everyone to like you,â he finally says. âYou donât need to be liked to be followed. You just have to be right,â he says. âWeâre not friends. Weâre officers in a war. Itâd be in our benefit to work together, but we definitely donât have to like each otherâmuch less be friends.â
Youâre stunned into silence.
What a peculiar perspective.
So all this time that youâve been keeping him company didnât really mean anything to him. You thought you were befriending him. He thought you were wasting your time.
Sensing a change in the atmosphere, Captain Yoo speaks again. This time, in a much light-hearted voice. Even he seems to have some decency to be considerate of feelings. âI donât get along with Captain Chang, nor do I get along with Major Lee. I might even call them imbeciles, which I have done in the pastâeven to their faces! But do I think theyâre a complete waste of space? No, I do not. You see, young officer, we have our preferences. All 17 officersânow 18âcannot possibly all get along. What matters is that we can look past these differences and work together in times of crisis.â The older man turns to you. âSo donât let Captain Chuâs dislike for you impede your judgments, Officer Ryu.â
What heâs saying makes sense. He might even think that heâs right. But how do you stomach the fact that someone doesnât like you? Especially when you have to see them every so often in highly formal meetings?
âI understand,â you say quietly. It isnât a complete lie; you may understand Captain Yoo, but you donât necessarily agree with him.
âGood. I knew you were a bright one.â
âI just have one more question, Captain.â
âYes?â He looks amused, revealing the whiskered indents on his cheeks.
âDo you like the General?â
Captain Yoo pauses momentarily. Then, he speaks, his eyes staring off into the coniferous forest, refusing to meet yours. âI know youâre fond of him.â
âI respect him,â you correct him.
âYou respect him as well,â Captain Yoo says. âHeâs shown you kindness and mercy. Of course you like him.â
âBut my question, Captain.â
Captain Yoo sighs. âTruth be told, Officer, no. I donât like the General. Nor do I like the Lieutenant. They are passive people. Our meetings are not led by two leaders. Theyâre led by the opinions of 18 officers, and some of these opinions are awfully invalid. We need firm leaders in Solaria, Officer Ryu. Leaders who tell us whatâs right and whatâs wrongâleaders who lead. A man who crouches down to listen to the opinions of a tiny speck of dust can get us into a lot of trouble. Not to mention, waste our precious time. But what can I do? Iâm just a captain and heâs the General of the Army. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth.â
Itâs then when you realize that youâre the tiny speck of dust that heâs talking about. And it dawns on you: he doesnât like you either.
Your skin suddenly feels cold. You begin to chew on your lip.
When Captain Yoo notices that you havenât responded to his words, he assumes the conversation is over. âThank you for keeping me company again,â he says. âWe had a nice talk, Officer. If you donât mind now, Iâll see you in the next meeting.â
You let him leave in silence.
Doyun had told you that Captain Yoo had voted in your favor. Now, you realize it wasnât because he liked your character or because he wanted the two of you to become friends. It was because he found you convenient. Because itâd be better to work together than to fall apart with disagreements.
Weâre not friends.
Maybe heâs a lost cause.
Or maybe, maybe you can sway him. Somehow.
â§â§Circa Zirconâ§â§
âHow can someone be so right but so wrong?â Captain Chuâs the first to speak after the Lieutenant and Captain Im deliver the news. He glances at you, a tight sneer on his lips.
âI apologize,â Major Hyun says. âI was the one who misread the letter. Iâd like to take the blame.â
You donât know what to feel. On one hand, youâre glad, but on the other hand⌠âIt doesnât make sense,â you say, pointing at the battle plans spread before you and Captain Imâs meticulous monocode notes. âHow can the code be âjewel?ââ
Sever had made so much sense. Sever had spoken to you. You were so sureâŚ
âYou were wrong.â
You look up to see Captain Yoo staring straight at you. âBut your theory about the code shift is correct,â he says. âOur best course of action might be to piece together these new sequences and figure out what they say.â
âTheyâre sadistic!â Captain Chang shouts, crossing his arms over his chest. âTheyâre dangling it in front of our faces. Jewel,â he scoffs. âWhat if this is all just a game to them?â
âThose are grand words coming out of your mouth,â Captain Chu retaliates. He turns to his major. âHow are we going to play their game?â he asks with a new sense of awe.
Major Ki hums, her rings clacking as she fidgets with her hands. âWe figure out their codes. In the meantime, weâll win all of the battles.â She looks to the General as if to ask for his permission.
But the General is frowning, staring down at the monocode notes and the battle plans, lost in his own world. There is silence as others wait for him to speak. Finally, the man sighs and he stares Major Ki right into her eyes. She fidgets before looking away. âYes, we must play their gameâŚâ the General says slowly, but decisively. âBut we cannot win all of the battles.â
âWhy not?â Major Lee says. âThe Darlaeans have been winning a majority of the battles up until a couple of months ago.â
âYes, itâs time to give them a taste of their own medicine!â Major Jang declares.
âTheyâll know weâre onto them,â Captain Im answers for the General. âWe have to proceed as if we havenât figured out their little game. Thatâs how weâll be playing it.â
âExactly,â the General says, nodding. He has frown lines etched onto his forehead as his eyes bore into the scrolls displayed on the table. âThe code shift, however⌠If we must play the game, we should understand it. But I canât wrap my head around this.â His eyes meet yours as he says this, almost as if to wordlessly ask if you have any idea whatâs going on. But you donât. Youâre just as puzzled as everyone else in the tent.
âThey canât possibly go from âjewelâ to âusurp,ââ Major Ahn says, thoughtfully rubbing his stubble. ââSeverâ would have made more sense than that.â
âWhat could they possibly mean by âusurp?ââ Major Hyun mutters.
âObviously they want to take the Solarian throne,â Captain Chu says. âBut Iâm failing to understand what âjewelâ has to do with that.â
âTheyâll be taking our throne using their jewels,â Captain Im says. âBut thatâs just a theory. I think we should wait for the other codes in order to make a more accurate assumption.â
âThis still doesnât explain why theyâre doing this in the first place,â Major Ki says. âWhy risk us figuring out the code? Why make a code at all?â
To send a message, you think. But to whom? And why? Why now? Why not ever before? Youâre unsure of how to explain your answer so you stay silent. But you can feel someone staring at you. When you look up, the General quickly looks away.
Your palms begin to sweat. Why was he looking at you? Is he going to pull you aside and scold you for keeping silent? But so many other officers in the tent are quiet during these meetingsâsome, youâve never heard them talk. It wouldnât make sense for him to single you out. Especially when you donât know whatâs going on, either.
âYour questions will be answered with time,â the General finally speaks when no one else dares to answer. âFor now, weâll alternate winning and losing battles.â There it is again. You can feel his eyes on you.
âSo youâre asking us to sacrifice our soldiers?â Major Ki says.
âYou act as if you havenât been doing that,â Major Lee says.
âI didnât have a choice then,â Major Ki bites back. âI have a choice now. We can easily seize victory, so why would I willingly hurt my soldiers when thereâs another way?â
âItâs for the better, Major,â Lieutenant Kang speaks up. She has a kind look on her face as if in an attempt to soothe her. âIf the Darlaeans catch on that weâve caught on, the result will be a thousand times worse. But if weâre smart about this, if we win the bigger battles while losing some of the minor ones, it wonât be as suspicious.â
âThis is war, Suhyun.â Major Hyun places a calloused hand on Major Kiâs shoulder. âWe must make the necessary sacrifices to win.â
Major Ki seems to deflate a little. At the same time, the tension that had seized her soldiers dissipates. Then, she puts her hand on top of Major Hyunâs. She nods solemnly. âI suppose it is war.â She stares at the table, eyes glued to the battle plans that youâd hand-drawn. For a split second, her gaze flits towards yours. But she looks away before you can even register that your eyes have met. âMy only condition is that we donât let devastating losses happen. No more massacres.â
âA rightful condition,â the General says. âI agree. This will be a new experience for all of us. Weâre not used to tracking the Darlaeanâs every move and planning our movements accordingly.â He glances at you. âBut this strategy has proven to work. If we continue this for a little while longer, weâll win.â
âWeâll claim victory!â Captain Chang shouts. âWeâll make sure of it.â
The officers all mumble in agreement. And there, thatâs when you see what Captain Yoo had so blatantly missed. Weâre not friends. But there, right in front of you, you see relieved soldiers, embracing each other, giving each other happy smiles and looks. You hear some of them inviting the others to a round of drinks. You see your lieutenant asking Hyojung and Jeonwoo if theyâd like to play a round of cards. You see Major Ki and Captain Chu in each otherâs arms. You meet the Generalâs eyes and though heâs not smiling, his eyes are sparkling with mirth.
Captain Yoo is wrong.
The officers must get along.
It took just a small physical gesture on Major Hyunâs part to convince a stubborn Major Ki. It took a simple gesture of compassion, of understanding.
Because when their soldiers are dying and the war is moving against their favor, then all that they have is each other.
Your eyes meet Captain Yooâs for a split second, and in that short time frame, you make sure to give him a wide smile. Youâre wrong. We wouldnât have survived this long if we hated each other.
Weâve survived this long because we like each other. Because weâre willing to go down with each other. Because weâre willing to win with each other.
The cold weather seeps into the sector, tinging the grass with frost and tree leaves with blue ice. And though the wintry air makes your cheeks red and teeth chatter, you like standing outside to collect your thoughts. Thereâs something rather welcoming about the icy breeze and the minty air nipping at your nose.
Your trusty oil lamp sits in front of you, the orange blaze flickering wildly in the harsh winds. You watch the flame, feeling warm in its presence. Tugging your legs closer to your body, you rest your chin on your knees. Youâre unable to look away.
Itâs so tiny but it lights up the whole vicinity, emitting an amber glow that resonates within you. Itâs so beautiful. And it feels so familiar.
You hate this feeling.
Why does everything feel so familiar, and yet you canât remember anything? Your hands tighten into fists as you stare blankly at the orange flame. There was a time in your life when you could wield fire. There was a time in your life when you could create it from your very own fingertips. If only the feeling werenât so familiar. Then you wouldnât miss it at all.
For a second, the flame seems to taunt you. It reaches up into the dark midnight sky, snaking around the cold breeze, hungry to burn, hungry for more. Itâs such a little thing. Something that you should be able to understand. Something that you should be able to wield, even given your elusive past.
Your past.
Itâs like a punch to the gut. Youâre from Elu, right? So what were you before you were a soldier? Or did you come from a family of soldiers and you didnât have much of a choice when choosing your career? What was it about you from before that only allowed you to be a fire medium? Even when you might have the temperament to wield other elements?
Why do you always have so many questions and no answers?
As if to sympathize with your inner turmoil, a hard gust of air brushes against you, making your hair bellow out with the wind. The flame goes out in a curling cloud of smoke. Itâs suddenly dark. And cold.
You shiver, hands shaking as you reach to find a match in the darkness. But the oil lamp flickers on again, and that familiar flame dances against the winter winds. When you look up, you see the shadow of the General himself.
He stands, looking down at you, the flame from the oil lamp illuminating the tip of his soft nose and the pupils of his sharp eyes. âThinking?â he asks in such a husky, whispered voice that if you hadnât paid enough attention, you wouldâve thought it was just a breeze.
âGeneral!â You scramble up to face him, your vision a little blurry from the quick change of stance. âYes. Yes, I was just thinking. Itâs⌠I donât know, sir. Everythingâs so new but familiar at the same time. Itâs frustrating, I guess. I wonder what my life was like before I was a soldier.â
Quickly, you duck your head. Maybe itâs the cold. Or maybe itâs the intimate lighting and the rather close proximity between you and the General. Something about today makes you want to say whatâs exactly on your mind. But you wonder if that was a good choice. Suppose the General doesnât care about your inquiries? Suppose he just happened to stop by and doesnât want to start a conversation with you?
The General clears his throat. âI actually came here to apologize,â he says quickly. He looks down at your oil lamp, unable to meet your eyes. âI wanted to apologize that I didnât do more to make you feel welcome here, in my army. And in Solaria.â
Youâre not sure what you were expecting to come out of the Generalâs mouth, but it definitely wasnât this. âOh! Oh, no. You donât have to apologize, sir. Iâm just one soldier in your vast army. You donât have to babysit me.â
âAnd you donât have to stand in my presence,â he says. âYou can go back to your thinking.â
You stand your ground. âIt wasnât that I wanted to stand in your presence, sir.â You flinch. That surely came out wrong. âWell, I mean, theoretically, Iâd want to stand, but since I know youâre not too fond⌠I meanââyou take a large, gaping breathââI stood so I could talk to you face to face. For conversation. Not to give you the salute that you donât want.â
The corner of his lips twitch. Why must you be so amusing? âVery well.â
Silence.
The crickets chirp idly in the background, the cold breeze rustling the Generalâs black hair across his forehead and poking at his eyes. You watch as he uses his air wielding to sweep his bangs away. The single movement is so majestic, so intriguing that you canât possibly look away. In turn, the General watches you. He sees that your shoulders have hunched up from the winter cold, that youâre unknowingly shivering, your cheeks tinged pink and your lips a pale shade of blue. He should keep this short. Before his officer catches a cold.
âIâve been thinking,â he says, trailing off to gauge your reaction.
Sure enough, youâre smiling. âYes, after all, you do have a brain to do just that.â
He scoffs. âHow very original of you.â
âWhy thank you, sir.â
âBut as I was saying, I was thinking that we could go to the capital sector. It could help jog your memory, and itâll be nice to see another sector besides Alder.â
A trip to Elu? Your homesector? Your heart skips a beat. This could open so many doors, so many memories that are locked up away in your mind. But wait a minute. We? Who is we? Is he implying that just the two of you go together? Or is he offering to send Doyun or maybe even Captain Im with you? Thatâs probably it. Heâs too busy to escort you around for a field trip. Or is he?
âThatâs very kind of you to offer, sir,â you say. âButâŚâ
â...But?â
If we doesnât mean you and him, youâre going to make an absolute fool out of yourself in front of the General of the Solarian Army.
âBut I donât want to bother you, sir. You must be tired from battle all day. And to take time out of your busy schedule to tour me around EluâŚâ
âOh, no, Officer. I insist,â the General says. Thereâs that mildly amused look on his face again. âYouâll need to see our landâs beauty. A soldier must know Solaria in order to fight for it.â
You smile. âThatâs fair. I canât quite argue with that, sir.â
But itâs still surprising. The General of the Army, insisting that you take a field trip with him. To teach youâa mere soldierâabout Solaria. To tour youâa speck of dustâaround your homesector.
âWell, isnât that the first?â
Your head jerks up. Thereâs this glimmer in the Generalâs dark eyes as he stares at you. Youâre not sure whether the glimmer is from the glow of the lamplight or his interest in your conversation. âWhat is that supposed to mean, sir?â
âOh, nothing.â
âIt has to mean something,â you grin. âIâm not that argumentative. I think.â
âSelf-awareness is quite a pleasant virtue. Something that you can learn from me.â
If you didnât know the General so well, youâd think heâs insulting you. But you know him well enough to know that heâs teasing.
âHumility is also a virtue, sir.â
At that, the General smilesâhe really smiles. Itâs the same relaxed, happy smile that youâd seen on his face when he was mildly intoxicatedâgums and all. But as quickly as it had appeared on his face, as quickly as it disappears.
The General clears his throat. âWell then, Iâll wake you up at dawn tomorrow, Officer.â
You nod. âYes, sir!â
His gaze lingers for a moment but thenâall too soonâheâs turning away so that the only part you see of him is his backside. His figure casts a shadow on you, but instead of making you feel cold, it makes you feel supported. Cared for.
I wanted to apologize that I didnât do more to make you feel welcome here.
How could anyone not like the General? Because if no one listens or even cares for the tiny specks of dust in the world, then how will anything progress? You feel supported. Itâs because of the General that youâd woken up with nothing and now live with so much more than youâd had before. Itâs because of the General that youâve somehow risen up the ranks. Itâs because of the General that you feel so much pride for your nation. Itâs because of the General that youâre happy to be his soldier. Youâll fight for himâwith him. Anything.
When the wind blows too hard and the flame from the oil lamp extinguishes with a cloud of smoke, you look up. Only to realize that the General had never left. Heâs in his usual position, hands behind his back, shoulders hunched. But before you can ask if he needs anything more, he speaks, though facing away from you.
âTomorrow, youâll see his majesty, the Solarian King.â
Your eyes widen. âThe king???â you gasp. The darkness makes you squint, and you try to make out the Generalâs figure. How can you, a mere officer, meet the Solarian King with the General of the Army by your side? Youâre not even sure if youâre qualified to be in royaltyâs presence. You didnât even know Solaria had a king! No one ever talks about himânot even Hana, which is quite unusual. But you suppose someone has to govern the five sectors of Solaria. It was stupid of you not to realize that sooner.
âItâs nothing to worry about,â the General replies, breaking you from your frenzied thoughts. âBut tomorrow, youâll realize why Solaria is in such dire need to win the war.â
It sounds like a lot to worry about. But you donât say it out loud. Instead, you answer in solemn silence, and the General seems fine with that. He nods to himself, his black hair rustling in the wind. Then, with a small movement of his fingers, your oil lamp flickers back on.
âGet some sleep,â he says. âThe ride to Elu can be tiresome.â
âYes, sir.â A small pause. âThank you for making me feel welcome here.â
He lingers. Almost as if he wants to continue the conversationâlike a reply is at the tip of his tongue. But then heâs walking away, steady footsteps on the iced grass. You watch him leave. But this time, you know youâll see him again soonâtomorrow. And the thought is comforting. Holding your oil lamp, you retreat to your tent, snuggling up in your blankets.
You fall asleep with too many thoughts in your head. What does the king look like? Will he like you? Will Elu be exactly as youâd imagined it? Will it help you remember your past? What is the reason that Solaria is in such dire need to win the war?
And why⌠Out of thousands of soldiers in the army⌠Why does the General seek you?
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⨰ a/n: my math professor makes me do yoga ten minutes before every lecture and it's so embarrassing bc you can definitely hear my bones crack-a-lacking đ i was not made for this đ AND SIDE NOTE??? oc and yoongi gonna get some DRAMA in the next chapter!
please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!
⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nationâotherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.
⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15
⨰ warnings: profanity, a minor injury (a small amount of blood), (very) minor character deaths
⨰ wordcount: 13.5k
⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)
⨰ a/n: a big round of applause for @the-berry-named-ari for beta-reading! this is also my fic submission for @thebtswritersclub january monthly project <3 what new changes will there be in the solarian army? đ
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â§â§Circa Opalâ§â§
Are these fantasies or are these visions?
With each chime of the water clock, your eyes reset. Like an obscure mind game, you can vividly envision plans. Itâs a game of chess with the pieces and pawns dancing across the board, shifting places every hour or even in a blink of an eye. Except, the board is the battleground and the pieces are the soldiers.
You donât understand how this happened. It started a week ago, when the Solarians began having major wins, thanks to their newly implemented strategy. You go to bed feeling enlightened and happyâhow could you not when your nation is winning? But every time you lie on your futon, facing up at the sloped ceiling of your tent, you begin to see things.
Battle plans.
Somehow, youâre seeing battle plans.
And you canât explain it.
Today, you slip out of your covers, head reeling with these visions, and light a match for your oil lamp. Youâre going to write it down. Maybe thatâll stop them. Youâd asked Joon for some paper and ink earlier today, intent on doing just that.
The water clock chimes.
Holding the ink brush tightly in your hand, you sweep it across the tan canvas, creating your first mark. You watch the black ink bleed into the paper. You make another mark. Then another and another. Soon, your marks become a rough recreation of what youâve been seeingâthese terrains that you swear you canât remember, but youâre envisioning anyways. You sketch the movements, the attacks, the counterattacks. It all comes to you, now.
You canât explain it, but it makes sense.
You can feel it.
How strange.
From the moment you woke up in that Solarian tent, youâd been confused. You never knew your purpose, where youâre supposed to fit in, what youâre supposed to do. But this. This is your calling. Nothing has ever felt this natural before.
Head cloudy with thoughts, you stagger out of your tent to greet the inky sky. Itâs a breath of fresh air. Your lips part, and you grasp your visions in one hand before clutching your chest with the other. The pretty starlight rains down, showering over you. The sweet breeze rustles your hair and the papers in your hand. The universeâs gaze descends, and you watch it hover over you. But you have never felt this free.
You can do anything.
Such a vast land. Though itâs pitch black save for the stars, you can see the pointed tips of the tents stretching across the dark grass. The dense forest is just several tents away. If you wanted to, you could explore it right now. If you wanted to, you could climb the towering trees. If you wanted toâŚ
But what do you want?
And whatâs the point of freedom if your empty desires constrain you?
The feeling of freedom begins to wane from your heart.
What is your goal in the Solarian Army? Your hand begins to crumple your paper. Are you going to exist or are you going to live?
âWhat are you doing out so late?â
You hadnât asked that question. Nor does that sound like the little voice inside your head. When you look up, to your surprise, you find the Lieutenant, still in her uniform, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes staring at you inquisitively.
âDoyun! I was just, I was umââ
âNow what have you got there?â she asks, pointing at the paper half-wrinkled in your left hand. âI didnât know you were an artist, soldier.â
âOh! I was justâŚâ You trail off. How are you going to explain this? And to the Lieutenant of the Army? Yes, I drew battle plans because I see them imprinted in my vision at night. Perfectly normal, isnât it?
âItâs not very often we celebrate the arts around here. Lemme have a look!â
âU-UmâŚâ
But the Lieutenant outstretches her hand, and thereâs really no way to deny it. She uncrumples your paper, and you watch as her eyes widen and her jaw slacken. âWhat⌠What is this?â Her grip tightens. âY/N. What is this?â
âTheyâre⌠I drew them.â
She looks at you like youâve just told her up is down and down is up. âYouâre telling me that you drew these? These⌠These intricate battle plans? You made this?â
âIt just clicked,â you say, chewing on your lip. âI just started drawing and I couldnât stop. I donât know what I did, either.â
âWho are you?â
The question sends chills down your spine. And it occurs to you that you cannot respond. Because you donât really know that, either. Who are you? Doyunâs wide eyes, her open-mouthed stare show no trace of fear, of hatred, however. Sheâs⌠yes, thatâs it. She looks amazed.
âY/N. This is⌠Flaming hell, how the fuck did you come up with this? Iâve never seen a formation like this before.â
Her words bring heat to your cheeks. âT-Thanks.â You point at the canvas, tracing your finger along a particular dotted line. âThatâs how we should be moving if the Darlaeans break our barrier here,â you say. âTheyâre going to think thatâs our weak spot, but if we move ahead of time, then we can ambush them right around there.â You point again.
Doyun stares at you. âAre you starting to regain your memories?â
âNo⌠Itâs weird. I can just⌠Itâs just that I can see it.â
âYou mean to tell me that youâre forming these highly strategic battle plans from intuition alone?â She looks completely appalled. âHow long have these plans been brewing in your head?â
âAbout a week,â you say. âI didnât think anybody would care, much less see it.â
Doyun shakes her head. âYou mustâve had these plans before you lost your memory. But there was a reason you didnât come forward with them. Or a reason we never formally metâŚâ she trails off. âEither way, I think Yoongi would want to see this.â
âThe General?â You begin to chew your lip again. âI donât know⌠I did this to get it out of my head. Iâm not sure if the battlegrounds even look like that. I drew whatever I saw.â
âBut the thing is, Y/N, that is what the battleground looks likeâat least in the third sectorâand thatâs exactly how Iâd predict the Darlaean offense would move.â
The third sector. Namjoon had said you were likely a fallen soldier from there. But there is still doubt.
âIâm sure all soldiers go to bed seeing battle plans,â you say.
âMost soldiers donât,â Doyun says while shaking her head. âBut officers do.â
Youâre stunned into silence. Then, your heart begins to thump in your chestâbeating so rapidly that it feels like a flutter in your ribcage. What is she implying?
âIâll hand these over to him,â Doyun says as she holds onto your visions. She stares at you again with an unreadable look on her face. And just when you think sheâs going to say something more, she doesnât. She gives you a small wave before spinning on her heel to walk away.
You stand there, in the darkness, wondering what on earth had just happened. And what this means for your future.
The water clock chimes, and the sound seemingly echoes in the blank sky. You stare off into the distance, watching the shadow of Doyunâs body moving further and further away from you.
Most soldiers donât. But officers do.
What to make of this?
âYouâre supposed to be the skeptical one,â the General sighs, rubbing his forehead. âYouâre telling me that this is normal? Including other mediums in battle? Fine. Any soldier without prejudice could stumble upon that idea. But formulating complex battle plans and mapping out a territory she supposedly canât remember?â
âWe told ourselves to trust her,â Doyun says. âI know Iâm usually the logical one around hereââ
âSure as hell not anymore.â
ââbut this soldier⌠Sheâs young, Yoongi. And honestly, sheâs a little shy, though you can see the gears in her mind overworking themselves in every conversation. Maybe erasing her memories made her a little more confrontational. She was always gifted. We just never noticed, and she never bothered to tell us.â
âDoyun, listen to yourself. Isnât it so much more plausible that she is what we fear? Canât this all be an elaborate scheme?â
âHave you met her?â the Lieutenant snorts. âYoongi, she wouldnât hurt a fly.â
âThatâs what makes her all the more dangerous. Sheâs given up her Darlaean magic to mess with my army. Theyâre serious about this one, Doyun. You said it yourself that theyâre using every way they can to end the war in their favor.â
âA Darlaean would never heal or attempt to heal Solarians,â Doyun says. Sheâs firm, her taller figure towering over him. âA Darlaean would never want to bring us to victory. But the past week? Wins. Triumphs at every corner. A Darlaean would never want to associate with us. Yet sheâs friendly. Reserved, sure, but that healer and Hana are fond of her.â
âYouâre saying you want me to follow these battle plans.â
âWhy not, Yoongi? Why not? You have to admit theyâre ingenious.â
âDoyunâŚâ the General sighs, carding his fingers through his jet black hair. âI would remember a third sector soldier, donât you think?â
âYou havenât been getting a lot of sleep these days. She mustâve been a new soldier and you simply missed her file. Mistakes happen, Yoongi. Donât beat yourself up about it. Thatâs why Iâm here,â the Lieutenant says. She points at your battle plans. âThat can change the tides of this war. Iâm only here to advise you. But for Sahnâs sake, you canât possibly ignore this. Not when itâs so⌠so genius!â
âIâm aware of how great it is, Doyun. But the plan is a trap at worst and too fickle at best,â the General says, hands clasped behind his back. âTell me, how would a soldier who claims to have lost her memories replicate an identical copy of the battleground and predict the enemyâs movements down to the last soldier?â
âMaybe she speaks with the wind!â Doyun yells, throwing her hands in the air. âExcuse me for losing my calm, Yoongi, but do you not see howâhow paranoid you are? Weâre being fucking massacred out there. We need a miracle! And the spirits have given us this soldier. Theyâve somehow allowed her to lose her memories, and now, we know of her existence. We can use her, Yoongi. We use the lives of thousands every day. But maybe using one life will save a couple hundred.â
The General sinks into his seat, and he refuses to look at his lieutenant. âYouâre dismissed, Lieutenant Kang.â
âYouâve got to be fucking kidding me.â
He says nothing more. But he hears the wind rustling furiously behind him. And when he turns back to look, his close friend, confidant and Lieutenant General is gone. Along with your battle plans.
Yoongi stares at his calloused hands. He made the right decision. Doyun will come around in time. Sheâs fond of you; he can tell. But no one ever gets very far in war by being fond of people.
âIt feels good to be at the top, Brother.â
âCongratulations, Yoonsoo.â
âItâs General Min to you. Just like how people called Mother.â
âRight, then. Congratulations, General Jackass.â
âHa! Thatâs funny, Brother. Real funny. Who wouldâve thought? That I become appointed the General of the Solarian Army first out of the three Min siblings when IâGeneral Minâam the youngest!â
âYou worked hard for it. You deserve it.â
âNo, of course I do. But you did too. So did Sister. But let me tell you something: you always cared too much about me. If you didnât lose sleep trying to get me to catch up on my fire wielding every night, maybe you wouldâve been next in line for General.â
âI couldnât watch you get scolded by Mother.â
âWell, you shouldâve. Now Iâve taken your spot.â
The first time was a fluke. You merely suggested an idea that sprung upon your headâan idea that anyone could have come up with. However, you canât expect to get away with it the second time. Youâre suspicious. And Yoongi swore to apathy the day his brother died.
âI have evidence.â Doyun storms into the Generalâs tent first thing in the morning, holding a bound scroll and waving it around like it were a baton.
Yoongi sighs before turning around in his seat. âEvidence for what?â he asks. But he already knows the answer to that question; heâs just surprised that his lieutenant found proof of your innocence so quickly.
âThere it is! Right there!â Doyun slaps the scroll on his desk and points. ��Ryu Y/N. Fire medium from Elu. Recruitment: late Circa Peridot. Status? Deceased. Sheâs supposedly dead! That explains why you donât remember her! Her file was on its way to being recycled into plant fertilizer! And look, her recruitment time lines up exactly with the early Circa Sapph battle in the third sector. Yoongi, sheâs innocent.â The Lieutenant leans back, crossing her arms over her chest and looking quite proud of herself.
To be quite honest, Yoongi is proud, too.
âYou found this last night?â
âI searched through over ten thousand files, Yoongi,â Doyun snorts. Itâs then when he notices her usually clean, polished uniform is dirty and unkempt. Her short hair spikes up in a messy look heâs never actually seen on herânot even in battle. Moreover, she has heavy bags sagging under her eyes. âI found the file this morning, and the moment I found it, I ran all the way over here. So excuse me for looking like a mess.â
âExcused,â Yoongi says, a hint of amusement on his face. He looks over the file himselfâa file so sparse of information that itâs barely a file at all. But he remembers how hectic the recruitment phase had been nearly three circas ago. Soldiers came in from left and right. It had been an emergency recruitmentâafter a battle that yielded nearly 50 percent in casualties. But the battles that followed werenât any better; they were always quite chaotic. Yes, shortcuts were taken when writing these files. And now, he wishes they hadnât. Now all they know about you is this measly, single file. But at least he knows your full name and homesector. Itâs a step in the right direction.
He rises from his seat. âIâm sorry I doubted you, Doyun.â
She snorts. âWhat did I tell you? Iâm rarely ever wrong.â
The General smiles. âWell, then. Itâs settled. Iâll lead three units to a low-stake battle in the fifth sector.â
Doyun raises her eyebrows. âThe planâs written for a third sector battle.â
Yoongi stares at her for a very long time. She stares at him right back, refusing to blink and refusing to back down. Finally, the General lets out a deep sigh. âOh, what the hell. Letâs test our luck then, shall we? But if this doesnât work, Iâm demoting you and putting Y/N in your place.â
âCounterintuitive, but I like it, sir.â
âGood.â
The General spins around back in his chair and allows his lieutenant to dismiss herself. Like he always had.
âI canât believe you actually like this!â Hana blanches, pushing away her bowl. âI wish we could get something to chew on, once in a while. Like bread. Oh, Iâd kill for some bread.â
âCanât the earth mediums see to it?â you ask. âThey grow rice, spinach and mugwort. Iâm sure a little wheat wonât hurt.â
âBreadâs not as easy to make,â Hana sighs. âBesides, itâs nice to have something to look forward to. On the days Iâm stuck in that stupid medical tent, I can think about bread. How it tastes. The sponginess of the dough. The delectable flavors on my tongueâŚâ
You stifle a laugh. âOh, Hana.â
âWhat?â she says. âI still canât believe you like spinach porridge.â
âI think itâs good!â
âUgh. Itâs because youâve never tasted my fatherâs bread. I swear, one of these days, youâll find out how good it is. Then you wonât be able to look at other foods the same.â She smiles, stretching her arms before plopping on the grass and staring up at the sky.
âItâs crazy how much flat land there is in Alder.â Hana turns her head over at you, where you sit with your head resting on your knees. âYou should come visit Aella, sometime. Itâs my homesector and itâs a mountain range. We have the prettiest skies and the freshest air, though people from Ara like to argue. Theyâre wrong,â she snickers. âAellaâs the best. I think youâll like it there. Plus, we have the best food. Including bread.â
âI really should visit, then,â you say with a laugh. âIâd invite you to my homesector too, but the only problem is, I donât know where Iâm from.â
âDefinitely not Aithne,â Hana says with a snort. âThe Generalâs whole bloodlineâs from there. It must be a fire medium thing. They apparently enjoy living in the desert. If you were from Aithne, the General wouldâve known you because Iâm sure a total of eight people live there. It might even be zero now because of the war. Generalâs the last of his bloodline.â
âOh, hell⌠Thatâs really sad.â
âYeah, wellâsorryâthat got depressing really fast. Sometimes I just ramble on and on and if you donât stop me, Iâll go off into fifteen different tangents. Anyways, I donât think youâre from Aella, either. Because if you were, then Iâd know you. I know everyoneâs business in my sector. Youâre not from Alder, either. Kids from Alder are born to be healers or soldiers. And since no one remembers you from before, youâre definitely from Ara or Elu.â
âImpressive deduction,â you say with a smile. Ara or Elu. Theyâre the first sectors youâve heard ofâthanks to Joonâthe moment you came to from your concussion. Slowly, you lower yourself so that your back rests against the soft grass. You stare up into the blue sky, watching the clouds float along with the light breeze. âIâd love to be from either sector. They both sound so great.â
âThey have the best bread in Elu,â Hana says. She points at a particular cloud in the sky. âOh! That looks like Fatherâs homemade special holiday acorn bread!â
If you tilt your head enough, you can almost make out the loaf. With so much of Hanaâs encouragement, youâve gone hungry againâand you only finished eating about two minutes ago. Of course, lying down isnât doing wonders to your digestive system, so you prop yourself up on your elbows. âI didnât even know you could make bread fromââ
âLieutenant Kang! Sir!â
You hear Hana scramble up and drop to a ninety-degree bow. Though you canât remember the last time youâve bowed in Doyunâs presence, you follow suit.
âSoldier Baek. Soldier Ryu.â
You freeze.
Soldier Ryu? Did you hear that correctly?
Hanaâs eyes double in size too.
When the both of you are upright, Hanaâs the first one speaking. âRyu? Like Ryu Y/N, sir?â
âDoes someone claim they remember me?â you ask, hands beginning to shake with anticipation.
âI found your file,â the Lieutenant answers. She looks immensely happy about it too. âSoldier Ryu Y/N from Elu. A fire medium. That was all that was written,â she says. âOther than the fact that you were marked as deceased.â Her eyes light up with amusement. âBut, unless youâre the opaque ghost of Ryu Y/N of Elu, youâre not quite dead, are you?â
A sudden warmth washes over your body. And before you can really register whatâs happening, you feel tears dripping down your chin.
âY/N! Donât cry!â Hana says. She immediately hugs you, patting your hair and letting you wet her uniform.
âThank you,â you manage to choke out. âOh, thank you so much. It mustâve taken such a long time to find the file tooâŚâ
Doyun smiles. Frankly, sheâs a little speechless too. How distressed you mustâve been about being unable to recall your identity to have such a reaction to this information. Sheâs glad she went through the extra struggle.
âThe good news doesnât end there,â she says. âThe Generalâs permitted your plans, Y/N. Heâll be leading soldiers into battle in the third sector in a few days.â
âHe has?? He will???â
âHad to be extra convincing, but itâs been approved.â
âPlans?â Hana asks. She pulls you away and cocks her head. âThe General?â
âAh,â Doyun smiles. âIâll leave you to do the talking, Ryu Y/N. But I personally wanted to deliver the news. Good day, then, Soldier Baek and Soldier Ryu.â With that, the Lieutenant walks away, and your legs almost give out.
âY/N! You know where youâre from now!â Hana grins. âAnd I basically guessed it, didnât I?â She brushes the remnants of your tears away with her thumb. âBut what was that thing about the General and the plans? I still canât believe the Lieutenant just walked up to talk to us. Much less mention the General!â
How are you going to explain this�
âUm⌠You know the recent switch in the army? You had to use your air wielding in battle, right? And the earth mediums used their earth wielding in battle. Yeah⌠I just thought it would be a good change in the army,â you confess. âWhich I told the General. In person.â
âI thought heâd kick me out, but he actually listened,â you say, shaking your head. âAnd the past few weeks, I havenât been getting a lot of sleep⌠Iâm seeing things. Like battle plans in my head. I drew them out. The Lieutenant saw. She showed the General. And now I guess he wants to test them out.â
âWhat the fuck!â Hana gasps. âI didnât know you made battle plans! Youâre a genius, then, arenât you? Youâve talked to the General! And the Lieutenant seemed to know you pretty well, too! Oh, this is so exciting!â
âItâs so much pressure,â you say. âI didnât⌠I didnât think the Lieutenant would take my midnight scribbles!â
âThey see your potential,â Hana gushes. âOh, Iâm so jealous! You have to tell me what itâs like to talk to them! I can only dream of having an actual conversation with the General, Y/N.â
The rest of the afternoon, you and Hana bask in the dying sunlight of a waning Circa Opal. You tell her every little detail about your conversations with the General and the Lieutenant, including the fact that the General is so intimidating, he makes you weak in the knees. (Hana laughs good-heartedly at that.) You tell her how standing next to him makes you feel like youâre somehow a lesser being. How he practically glows coming out of battle and somehow, you canât. You tell her everything you can think of and more.
And across the sector, in a certain tent, the General that you speak so highly of consults his right-hand soldier.
âYou told her, didnât you?â Yoongi greets his lieutenant as she enters the tent.
âShe started crying,â Doyun says. âWhen I told her the contents of her file. She really started to cry.â
Yoongi nods. âI canât imagine how stressful it mustâve been to know nothing.â
âI told her about the plans, too. She seemed a little less thrilled about that,â Doyun reports. âOverall, though,â she grins, âyou made the right decision, sir.â
âDid I?â The corners of his lips tug slightly up. âOr it was your decision that I endorsed.â
âThat could be it too,â she smiles. âEither way, itâs time to call an officer meeting, isnât it? We canât keep them in the dark too long.â
âWeâll do it tomorrow,â the General replies. âThe majors and their captains are resting after todayâs battles. And the weatherâs nice outside, isnât it? Weâll let them forget about the war for now.â
Doyunâs smile grows wider. âSounds like a plan.â
The General watches the Lieutenant leave. He knows her too well to be just about 100 percent sure that sheâs going to play cards with some of the majors and captains. But him? Heâs got work to do, for Sahnâs sake. Heâs the General of the Solarian Army. Good weather or not, he can never forget about the war.
The nation rests upon his shoulders.
â§â§Circa Citrineâ§â§
Ryu Y/N. Ryu Y/N.
You repeat your name in your head to fall asleep at night. You try to imagine someone elseâsomeone you knew from beforeâcall you by that name. You try to imagine what it would have been like to live in Elu. You wonder if you and Joon ever accidentally crossed paths. You wonder what wouldâve happened if they never found your file.
Nothing.
Nothing wouldâve happened. You wouldâve gone through the rest of your life without the knowledge of your homesector and surname, and it wouldnât have made a difference because you wouldâve accepted it. Still⌠Now, you have an origin. Now, you have a past.
Now, you have an identity.
âI really wish you could come,â Hana sighs as she slips on her boots. She snaps her fingers, orange sparks dancing off her fingertips. Itâs as if to test her wielding one last time before the big battle. âYou made the plans. Itâs not fair that you donât get to participate.â
âIâd be mauled out there,â you say, smiling while shaking your head. âI donât think Iâd stand a chance against the Darlaeans.â
âThatâs a good point,â Hana laughs. âThough Iâm sure youâd manage just fine without your fire wielding. Youâve got that trusty brain of yours.â
You laugh. âI donât think having a sharp mind can stop a Darlaean from searing my leg right off, Hana.â
Your friend huffs. âWell, Iâm sure youâd figure something out! Oh, Look!â The last part had been because the General had finally walked out of his tent. As usual, he looks majesticâhis black hair sweeping delicately over his eyes, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, his uniform well-ironed and polished. Not a speck of dirt rests on his figure. Not even a loose thread.
âI canât believe heâll be leading the battle!â Hana squeals. âY/N,â she gasps, turning to you and grasping your hands. âIâm going to be fighting with him!â
But the moment she grasps your hands, you feel a shock wash over your entire body. Her handsâher warm hands holding onto yours. Why does that feel so familiar? Why do you feel like youâve lived through this moment before?
âHey? You okay? You turned white,â Hana says. She slips her hands from yours and puts her palm on your cheek. âYou feel normal, though. Do you think that cold you got is still lingering or something?â
âOh! Oh, no,â you say, managing a small smile. âI was just worried,â you say. Thatâs it. Change the topic. âItâs a third sector battle, Hana. I just hope you come back well.â
At that, Hana throws her head back in laughter. âY/N! Iâm like a cockroach. They couldnât kill me if they tried! Besides, with your battle plans and with the Generalâs lead, weâll be guaranteed to win.â
You really hope so.
âMy good soldiers! Line up for battle!â
This is the loudest youâve ever heard the General yell. And something tells you that even if he didnât shout, his soldiers would obey him immediately.
Hana turns to you. âIâll come back in one piece,â she promises with a wink. âEven if I do get hurt, you can bandage me up, right?â
âIâd prefer you come back without a scratch,â you say. âIâm gonna hope for the best.â
âI will too.â
The two of you part your ways, Hana rushing off to line up with the other soldiers of the third sector. You watch the General round his soldiers up. You watch as he begins a short speech. You watch as some of his soldiers tear up and others grit their teeth with determination. You watch them get into formation. You watch the General mount his silvery horseâthat, in the sunlight, looks almost transparent.
Then, theyâre off.
The scarlet uniforms look like little dots now, and you canât help but sit down on the grass, staring at the remnants of the third sector army. Why does this all feel like a dream? Is your mind playing tricks on you?
You always feel so comfortable around Hana. And now, you realize this comfort has been rooted in familiarity. Something about her is familiar to you. Like youâve known her from before. When she grasped your hands, youâd felt something. You know her now. But maybe you knew her, too.
You stare at your cold hands, rubbing them together to create some sort of friction to keep them warm. Youâd thought you could wield more than one element. But clearly, you were just a fire medium. What had stopped you from wielding the other three elements? Are you not fit to wield them? Can you wield them now? It wouldnât be a reconnection but a first impression.
Why does your stomach feel so queasy?
If the third sector comes back massacred, itâd be your fault. If the General dies in battle⌠his bloodline would die with him. And itâd be all your fault. Maybe itâs the fact that youâre not fighting in a battle that you planned. If the plan fails, youâd be avoiding the consequences. Because youâd be here, sitting back in the campground, well and healthy, while the soldiers come back bloodied and injured.
If only you couldâ
âLook, the Generalâs favorite little soldier is waiting obediently for his return!â
You hear snickers close by, and your head whirls around to see a woman and a man standing a few feet away. They have two notches on their uniform, but the mean looks in their eyes indicate theyâre nothing like your other superiors.
âYou said that too loudly! She heard you,â the woman says, pushing the manâs shoulder. He rolls his eyes in return, then he stares at you directly. You flinch.
âHey! Yeah, you! How does it feel to weasel your way up to the top?â
âJeonwoo!â the woman shrieks.
You stand up, a deep frown settling on your forehead. Why are you being attacked? What did you do? âIâm a healer,â you say as evenly as you can. âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âHow well can you really heal without water wielding?â the woman mutters under her breath. But you hear her loud and clear.
âNow that was mean, Hyojung,â the manâJeonwooâsnickers. âLook, soldier. Youâve gotta show us some respect. Weâre the Generalâs Majors. And you? Well, you said it yourself. Youâre just a healer.â
Anger washes over you. How dare they???
âI show respect when Iâve been respected.â
At that, Major Jeonwoo laughs. âGive up the act. Youâre a Darlaean spy. I donât care if youâve somehow convinced the General and the Lieutenant otherwise. But to us, youâre Darlaean scum.â
âSheâs going to hurt you, Jeonwoo! Youâre going too far,â Hyojung whispers.
âShe wonât. She gave up her magic to be here,â Jeonwoo says. âSheâs dedicated, this one. The Darlaeans are finally sending in a good spy. And besides, Iâm sure she can take some tormenting. After all, her kind has killed off everyone I know. Even if she canât take it, she deserves it.â
âThat is trueâŚâ Hyojung sighs. She turns to you, a disgusted look on her face. âWeâre going to make sure youâre shipped out of here if the General comes back with so much of a scrape on him. Got it?â
Oh.
You get it now. Their malice comes from fear. And hatred. To them, youâre the mysterious soldier who can bend their General to your will. To them, youâre dangerous and untrustworthy. To them, youâre the enemy that has killed everyone they know and love. You get it now. Theyâre in pain, and this is how they cope.
So you give up without a fight.
âUnderstood, Major,â you say. You drop into a low bow, showing them the respect that they had demanded earlier. Theyâve been through a lotâmore than what you can even comprehend. It wouldnât be right to argue. Not when theyâve done so much for your nation.
But when you stand up straight again, Hyojung is shaking with uncontrolled anger.
âY-You!â she shrieks. Her face turns red as she struggles against Jeonwooâs grip. âFuck you! You fucking witch! You canât do this to us! Do you know how many lives youâveââ
âWhat in flaming hellâs going on here???â
âLieutenant Kang! Sir!â
Immediately, the three of you drop into bows.
âMajor Jang, was there any reason that you were yelling at our soldier?â
âSir!â Hyojung says, straightening her posture. âW-We! Major Lee and I still stand by the fact that this woman is a Darlaean spy. And sheâs not a soldier, sir. She calls herself a healer.â
âWe were just trying to whip her into shape, sir,â Jeonwoo says. âHyojung just got a little upset. You know what the Darlaeans have done to her family.â
You watch as Doyunâs eyes soften and she offers a look of sympathy. âYes, I do know. But thatâs really no reason to berate an innocent soldier now, is it?â
âSheâs a spââ
âIâve found her file,â Doyun interrupts. âRyu Y/N. Fire medium. From Sector Elu. She was a Solarian soldier. Everything checks out.â
âButââ
âI understand that youâre angry, but Soldier Ryu is innocent. As Majors, you should not beââ
âDoyun, itâs fine,â you say. âNo hard feelings, really. The Darlaeans almost killed me, and they erased everything that I ever remembered. I lost my wielding and Iâm now an underqualified healer. I donât even remember who theyâve killed that I care about. But seeing that no one is claiming to know me from before⌠I just⌠I donât like them as much as you do. So I get it.â
Major Lee and Major Jang stare at you, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Doyun glances at you, arms crossed over her chest but a content look on her face.
âItâs settled, then,â the Lieutenant declares. âWeâre all but Solarian soldiers. Itâd be damned stupid to treat each other otherwise.â
Jeonwoo and Hyojung have a hard time making eye contact with you after that. And sensing the diluted tension, Doyun takes you by the wrist. âLetâs go,â she says. You donât even bother to ask where. She gives her officers a small nod of acknowledgment and they bow to her stiffly before the two of you are off.
âIâm sorry about that,â your lieutenant tells you. She weaves in and out between the tents and you follow her blindly, wondering where sheâs taking you. âJeonwoo and Hyojung are fiercely loyal and trustworthy majors. Itâs their loyalty that makes them so suspicious of you. But they shouldnât have lashed out like that. You handled it well, though, soldier.â She turns to you, clearly pleased. âThe war makes everyone suspicious of anyone new,â Doyun says with a sigh. âIn the meantime, I wanted to invite you to my tent. Have a cup of tea. Talk. How about it?â
When she finishes her sentence, you realize that the two of you are standing in front of a tent. Itâs larger than the one youâre staying in, but not significantly so. This is undoubtedly where the Lieutenant lives. âBut I havenât given you much of a choice, have I?â Doyun snorts. âLooks like weâre already here. Welcome to my humble abode.â
She gestures, pulling back the curtains to her living space. She steps inside, half of her body disappearing behind the red fabric, and you quickly follow suit.
Inside the tent, your senses are inundated with white and not the usual red. There are bushes and bushes of snow-white pansies, delineating the walls of your lieutenantâs living space. It smells beautiful. A large futon sits in the center of the room, and besides it, is a small, wooden desk with a messy âstackâ of papers, ink, an assortment of brush pens and a black and white photograph of a grinning woman.
When Doyun catches you looking at the photograph, her eyes light up. âMy girlfriend.â
âShe has a beautiful smile.â
âOh, she knows,â Doyun says with a snort. âShe always uses it to get what she wants. And Iâm always the idiot who canât resist it.â
Thereâs a bit of comfortable silence as you become situated in the Lieutenantâs tent. She insists that the two of you rest on her futon. You still canât quite comprehend that youâre in the Lieutenantâs living space, sharing a cup of tea and chatting with her. Like sheâs your close friend.
âThank youâŚâ you blurt out in a moment of silence. âFor trusting me. You didnât have to, but you did, and Iâm just⌠Iâm really grateful.â
And you are. Doyun, Namjoon, Hanaâtheyâve all done so much to make you feel welcome in Solaria. Even the GeneralâŚ
âOf course I had to trust you,â Doyun answers. âWe didnât have much of a choice not to. And besides, it would have been crazy to ignore blatant geniosity.â
You smile, eyes staring off at the beautiful patches of pansies sprouting from the ground. Geniosity? You wouldnât call it that. Luck? Visions? But not geniosity. The emerald green leaves of the pansies sway with the gentle breeze that had somehow found its way into the tent. The white petals flutter. The sweet aroma wafts in circles. And for a moment, your breath hitches.
âI forgot to mention it before, but your tent is beautifully decorated, Doyun. Especially the pansies.â
The Lieutenant smiles, though it doesnât reach her eyes. You wonder why.
âThe pansies, huh?â She tilts her head to stare at the happy woman in the photograph. And with a pang in your chest, you suddenly realize what had happened to her.
âIâm sorry,â you say. âI didnât know.â
âItâs okay,â Doyun says. Her eyes are dry, but her voice contains the tiniest bits of tremor. âMy girlfriend loves pansies. Iâll always honor her and her sacrifice.â
Silence.
âIt was years ago,â Doyun says. âIâm okay now, of course. But this is what the war does to you.â She stares at her hands folded in her lap. âIt kills off the people you care aboutâŚâ Then, she turns to you. âMaybe itâs a good thing you donât remember.â
It wouldnât be the first time youâve heard that.
Itâs the first time you agree, though.
âI suppose it is.â
Loss comes with pain. Loss comes with hatred and vengeance. It comes with resentment and rage. You realize that now, especially with that encounter with the Majors. Being unable to remember makes you strong. Because no memory holds you back. Itâs like youâve been reborn.
The two of you sit in the Lieutenantâs tent, sipping on Incha and talking about whatever comes to mind. When the water clock begins to chime, you have to excuse yourself to report to the medical tent.
âTheyâll be back soon,â Doyun says as she escorts you to the medical tent herself. Soldiers stop their training to bow at her and she nods her head at them in acknowledgment. âI have a good feeling about this.â She stops walking and turns to you. âIf this does workâwhich it willâyou have to make more.â
More? âMore plans?â
âYes! We need a fresh pair of eyes. A new perspective!â
âI-I donât know, Doyun. I consider myself lucky, not a genius.â
âThen extend that luck just a little bit more for us, will you?â she replies. âIâll see you later, soldier!â With an enthusiastic wave, sheâs off, marching to wherever she needs to be. Youâre left standing in front of the medical tent, quite dazed and unsure.
Is it a mistake to enable this? When youâre really not a genius? How long will it take them to realize you donât know what youâre doing? That youâre not as great as they think you are?
You walk into the medical tent to be greeted by Joon, who throws so many tasks your way that you barely have time to think. Sometimes, you like it that way.
Itâs all smooth sailing until the curtains of the tent are pulled back to reveal a familiar figure. Silence. Itâs like time has stopped. Everyone holds their breaths as the Generals steps in, hands relaxed behind his back and posture hunched as always. No blood. Not even a scratch on his face. Although itâs quite hard to tell from his face, you realize something mustâve worked.
The silence drones on, but the tension heightens. Everyone waits for his words. But heâs in no rush. The Generalâs eyes lazily sweep across the tent. And just when you think your gazes will meet, he looks away.
âWeâve won.â
Cries of joy. Screams of happiness. Soldiers laughing. Healers gasping with relief. Your knees buckle.
The General holds up a hand.
Silence.
âWeâve won, but that does not mean we do not have any casualties. We may have won a battle, but we must win the war, which I plan to do. I expect efficiency and kindness from all of you.â He pauses, eyes drifting for a second before he regains his focus. âThat is all.â
Time resumes.
The tent bustles. Healers begin to shout their orders. Soldiers begin to cry out their demands. But amidst the chaos, youâre still. You donât even know if youâre breathing. The General has finally met your eye. His sharp, stone-cold pupils bore straight into yours. And for a minute, you think he might even be angry at youâfor whatever reason, you wouldnât know. But then, his head moves in such a slight nod of acknowledgment that if youâd looked away, you wouldnât have noticed it. A nod of thanks. His eyes never leave yours.
And just when youâre about to call to him, reach him somehow, (you donât know why; it must be your instincts), he turns and steps out of the tent. You watch him leave, and a new kind of feeling blossoms inside your chest.
Youâre going to extend that luck all right. Youâre going to help the General win many more battles. And someday, the war.
Unscathed and victorious. Two words to describe your experience in the medical tent in the following weeks. By day, you are a healer, working tirelessly in the tents and tending to the honorable soldiers of the war. But by night, you assume the unofficial title of Battle Plan Coordinator as you scribble away on a scroll in the dead of the night. Many more battles are won. And every time, the General saunters confidently into the tent, barking orders. But he never forgets to give you his subtle nod of thanks. You find yourself looking forward to it.
Why does it feel like youâve found your purpose here?
When you run out of paper and ink, Doyun has them magically replaced by the time you get back to your tent after your healing duties. When you run out of matches, those are replaced too.
âThanks for all the extra supplies,â you tell her as you get comfortable in her tent. It has become something like a routine to grab a cup of tea and chat with the Lieutenant.
âExtra supplies?â Doyun asks.
âThe paper and the ink?â A small hesitation. â...And the matches?â
Doyun blinks. âThat wasnât me.â A small grin forms on her lips. âItâs either the spirits of Sahn themselves or Yoongi.â
âYoongi?â Your chest grows warm. âThe General?â
The Lieutenant snorts. âOf course heâs doing that. Wonder why heâs trying to slink around like that though. But he cares more than you think. Heâs a good man, our General.â
Thatâs also not the first time youâve heard that.
Itâs also not the last.
You and Doyun often meet in the medical tent when circumstances are not quite in her favor. Theyâre usually minor injuriesâthings that even youâre permitted to fix. And even then, the two of you strike up a conversation about anything.
From bits and pieces of your conversations, youâve pieced together quite a long narrative of Doyun and her girlfriend, Minhee. Itâs rare that Doyun ever talks about the war. Itâs easy to talk about happy things in the medical tent.
âWe were supposed to get married in the winter,â Doyun says as you carefully bandage her scathed arm. âYears and years ago.â
âA winter wedding,â you say. âIt sounds lovely.â
âI told her we should get married earlier. You know, in the spring when the pansies are in full bloom. But she insisted on waiting until the winter holidays,â she says. You can tell sheâs pulling out the memories from the back of her head. Youâve heard so many stories about Minheeâhow Doyun met her, how they hit it off when they were younger, how they both joined the army young. But you never knew how Minhee met her end. It seems as if Doyunâs finally ready to tell you.
âIt was autumn. Circa CitrineâŚâ she trails off. âYoongi had her shipped off to a third sector battle that I didnât approve of. Every soldier in that unit was massacred that day.â
Silence.
You place a hand on Doyunâs shoulder and she nods. âYes⌠I didnât talk to Yoongi for weeks. I was a lot younger, then. He was too. We know how to work together now. And I soon came to realize that MinheeâMinheeâs death wasnât his fault. It took me a long time to accept it. Itâs easy to blame the people you know when youâre in pain. But it wasnât his fault. He was just doing what he thought was right.â
Of course.
Doyun turns to you, shaking her head. âHe apologized to me, Y/N. He got on his knees and begged me to stay as his lieutenant.â
Your eyes soften.
âAnd I⌠I wanted him to stay there, begging and begging and begging. I wanted to leave him like that, feeling pathetic and stupid and wrong. I wanted to resign from the army. I wanted to leave him stranded after what he did to me and Minhee. Make him feel as lost as I felt. But I realized, if I resigned, then what? Alder is my home⌠If I resigned, Iâd have nowhere else to go. I stayed, obviously. And Yoongi and I are closer than ever. I know he thinks about the battle he sent Minhee to every now and then, even though it wasnât his fault. A good manâŚâ
Doyunâs eyes are brimming with tears, so you gently blot them away with your sleeve. âWhat do you think wouldâve happened if weâd all survived after the war?â you say. Maybe redirecting her attention to a happier future will get her out of this small slump.
âI was raised to fight in the war, Y/N,â she says. âI donât know what Iâd do if the war were to stop. I donât know how to do anything else except being a soldier. It doesnât matter, anyway. The war���s not stopping any time soon.â
âDonât say that.â The words tumble out before you can even stop yourself. âWeâve been winning all these battles. And youâre still alive. So what if you donât know how to do anything else? You can always learn. Doyun, youâre the Lieutenant of the Solarian Army. Iâm sure youâll always find purpose in your life.â
Doyunâs silent after that. Then, a small smile forms on her lips. âI donât know what washed over me,â she says. âI guess all the stress finally caught up. Youâre right, though, Y/N. Thereâs always hope.â Her smile grows wider. âWeâll win. Weâll win big,â she vows. âThe next time I see you, I wonât be like this. Iâll be proud to be a soldier. And Iâll yet again be victorious in battle. I swear on Sahnâs head, Y/N.â
She keeps her word.
The next time you see Doyun is a few days later in the medical tent. She barges in, the gold ribbon around her waist fluttering behind her. âEveryone!â she yells, her loud voice booming across the entirety of the tent. âA victory with no casualties!â
The tent erupts in the largest cheers youâve ever heard. The ground shakes with the force of the happy cries. Doyun grins at you. She sparkles in the late afternoon glow inside the tent, her hair slightly tousled and dirt smeared across her cheek. Sheâs proud. And she won.
âThere are drinks outside!â she yells. âTonight, we celebrate!â
The celebration draws on into the night. Soldiers clink their bowls of Takju together, old friends reunite and talk up a storm and even some healers are able to relax.
âHere you go, my dear.â Joon hands you a bowl of Takju, a cloudy-looking alcohol that is much beloved to the Solarian soldiers.
You shake your head. âOh, Iâm fine, but thank you.â
He smiles, already a little red from his own share of alcohol. âYouâve been watching the entrance of the tent all night. Who could you be waiting for?â he teases in a sing-songy voice.
You wonder, too.
âMore for me!â Joon exclaims as he downs the whole bowl in two gigantic gulps. âAhh!â he announces. âA victory with no casualties! The tide of the war is finally shifting, Y/N. Oh, Iâll be able to see my husband soon! I wonder how our kittens are doing. Oh dear, I hope I can recognize them!â
You laugh, patting Joonâs back. âTheyâll all be waiting for you,â you tell him. âA few more wins like these and weâll all be on our way home.â
If you can find your home, that is.
The rest of the night is a blur. For some reason, you canât quite relax. Every time someone enters the tent, your head jerks that way, and you donât dare admit who youâre so patiently waiting for. You converse with soldiers you donât even know. Smiling politely and engaging in their happy stories. You converse with Hanaâwho is quite the strong drinkerâand Doyunâwho is, although she says sheâs not, lightweight.
But youâre still not satisfied.
And as usual, the inside of the medical tent is starting to suffocate you. A breath of fresh air. Thatâs what you need. All this talking and laughing and cheering. It should elate you. But everyone talks about what theyâll go home to. Who theyâll go see after the war. Where theyâll go visit. You donât quite feel like you belong.
So, you take a few bloody rags and a bucket of cold water and decide to wash them in the bright moonlight. The diluted blood runs down your hands as you scrub harshly. Why youâre being so aggressive with the poor rags, youâre not quite sure. Itâs not until you scratch your finger with your nail and blood begins to trickle down that you stop. It stings.
But you deserve it.
Thereâs no reason to be jealous. But how can you not be? Youâre only human. You want someone to go back home to. For Soohtâs sake, you just want a home. The blood trails down your arm and you wince as you try to rub the wound over with your hand.
âSoldier!â
Your head jerks up. And immediately, the tension, the heavy weight on your shoulders lift away.
Itâs the General.
But thereâs something different about him today. His posture is as shitty as ever, but itâs the way heâs holding himselfâunguarded, relaxed⌠happy.
âI!â he announces, pointing at you with his finger. âIâve been looking for you.â
Oh. Heâs drunk.
âHave you?â Unbeknownst to you, a smile spreads on your face. âPray tell why.â
âYou are a gift from the spirits!â he says. His finger is inches away from your face. You find this quite hilarious. The oh-so-serious Solarian General this drunk? Heâll be so embarrassed tomorrow morning.
âI must show my gratitude, soldier,â he says. He bows sloppily, nearly falling over doing so. Either the General had a little too much to drink or heâs just as much of a lightweight as his lieutenant. âYouâre exactly what weâve always needed,â he says. Heâs so close to you that you can practically smell the alcohol on his breath. Itâs not quite pleasant, but it is very amusing. âWe needed someone to propose new methods and battle plans. We needed a fresh pair of eyes. New judgment.â
He stares at you, though he has quite a hard time making eye contact. You find that his stone-cold eyes have softened, losing their usual hardness. You like this look on him.
âDo you understand what Iâm saying, soldier?â he asks in the most authoritative voice his drunkenness can muster up.
You resist the urge to laugh. âOf course, sir,â you say. âIâm understanding every word.â
âGood,â he says. âDoyun is fond of you.â
âIâm fond of her too.â
âThatâs unfortunate because sheâs my lieutenant, not yours.â
âBut I never said she was mine, sir.â
He glares. âShe wants you as an officer.â
Your heart skips a beat. You? An officer? âWhen⌠When was this proposed?â
âWeeks ago,â the General admits. âIâve been waiting all this time, of course. I wanted to see where your plans would lead us, soldier. But Doyun is always right. I shouldâve known sheâs always right! Youâve proved a lot to me, soldier.â He pauses. âIâm sorry I ever doubted you. Or thought you were a Darlaean spy.â
His apologyâalbeit drunkenâwarms your heart.
âIt would be quite unconventionalâŚâ he sighs, tapping his chin dramatically. âBut with this much military talent, itâd be insane not to let you do what youâre practically born to do.â
Itâs hilarious how much alcohol can chip away at the Generalâs usually cold, intimidating persona. âAre you promoting me, sir?â
âHave you not been listening to a single word?â he sighs. âYes, I am promoting you! For Soohtâs sake, be a little grateful.â
âSir, with all due respect, youâre drunk.â
âAnd?â
âI want you to tell me all of this again when youâre sober. Iâll agree then.â
The General scowls, but you can see him contemplating your words. âVery well.â He glances at you, eyes narrowingâit almost looks like heâs sobering up already. But then he blinks and the tension dissipates. Suddenly, heâs reaching out for your hand. You gasp when your fingers meet.
âYouâre hurt.â
You pull your hand away, embarrassed. âItâs just a small scratch.â
He rolls his eyes. Then, heâs reaching for your hand again. Heâs warmâa nice contrast to your skin thatâs been chilled by the cool autumn air. His grip on your hand softens but he frowns, concentrating on your wound. Soon, the blood around your scratch begins to bubble before it completely evaporates. Then, the wound slowly, ever so slowly, begins to scab over. âGood as new.â
âThank youâŚâ
âFor Soohtâs sake, I really am drunk, am I?â The General sighs, rubbing his forehead. âForgive me but itâs been quite some time since my army has had a celebratory drink.â
âI donât mind,â you say. Itâs nice to see him this wayâwithout the weight of the war weighing him down.
âYouâll think about my offer?â
âI will.â
âI expect to hear an answer tomorrow.â
âYou will.â
âIs your hand all right?â
âYes, it is.â A pause. âThank you.â
A dismissive wave of his own hand. âItâs the least I can do.â
âIâll see you tomorrow, then, General.â
âI expect to hear an answer tomorrow.â
You struggle to resist the urge to laugh.
âIs your hand all right?â
You actually do laugh this time.
The General looks at you peculiarly. âI really do expect to hear an answer tomorrow.â
âOh, I canât quite recall,â you say, a teasing lilt to your voice. âWhat did you say about my hand, again?â
âIs your hand all right?â
âYes. Thank you for healing it.â
The General canât quite resist smiling when youâve got such a wide grin on your face. âItâs the least I can do,â he replies.
You think he has a nice smile. He does this thing where his lips pull back all the way and reveal his teethâa gummy smile. It looks so innocent, so kind compared to his usual sharp, serious demeanor. This is a persona youâve never seen on the General, and you like it.
âWhy are we smiling?â he asks.
It makes you smile even more. âIâm just happy, sir.â
âOh.â His smile grows wider. âI am as well.â
âYou should get some rest, sir,â you say, hoping you havenât teased him so much to the point that he reconsiders your promotion the next morning.
âI expect to hear an answer tomorrow.â
You laugh, shaking your head. âI know, I know.â
âIs your hand all right?â
âSir, you should really go,â you say, holding back even more laughter. Any second longer and youâll think youâll completely burst.
âIt is a legitimate question, soldier.â The General frowns. âIâm asking if your hand is all right.â
You sigh. âItâs fine, sir. You healed it, remember?â
âItâs the least I can do.â
âYouâve been repeating yourself for the past few minutes, sir.â
âHave I?â A pause. âI expect toââ
âHe gets like that when heâs drunk.â
A somewhat unfamiliar voice.
You turn to seeââMajor Jang!â Immediately, you bow. But your head screams. Is she here to berate you? Insinuate that youâre trying to hurt the General? Report you to the others?
The Major stands tall, leaning against the tent and watching the amusing scene unfold before her. âItâs after hours. Itâs Hyojung to you.â
âHyojung, then,â you say. What does she want? But the fact that sheâs insisting you to call her by her first name⌠Thatâs a good sign, right?
The General slowly turns his head and nods at his officer. âHyojung, what are you doing here?â
âSir, youâre going to end up annoying the poor soldier,â Hyojung says. âLetâs get you back to your tent.â She turns to you. âSometimes, he forgets his limits.â
âThat is an incredibly false accusation,â the General retorts. âIâm not that drunk.â
You and Hyojung meet eyes before the two of you burst out laughing.
âHeâs been repeating the past three phrases over and over again,â you say. âI hurt my hand and he keeps asking if Iâm okay. And when I tell him I am after he healed it, he says, âItâs the least I can do.ââ
Hyojung shakes her head, though sheâs smiling. âAs hilarious as this is, I should probably help him get back.â
âYou havenât been drinking? Celebrating?â
âTo be honest, Iâve felt too guilty to do any of that,â Hyojung admits. âJeonwooâs getting drunk, though. He uses it to cope.â
âGuilty?â
âIâm sorry I called you a witch. Weâre⌠Weâre not really supposed to use that terminologyâeven to our worst enemies. I was just angry. I shouldnât have directed it towards you. Itâs not your fault that theyâre dead.â
It isnât. But you accept her apology. âYou donât have to feel bad about it,â you say. âIâm sorry about them, too. Was it your family?â
âMother and brother,â she says. âItâs okay, though.â She attempts a smile. âHave you accepted the Generalâs proposition?â
âNot yet,â you say. âIâll most definitely agree to it tomorrow. When heâs not drunk.â
âI look forward to seeing you in our officer meetings,â Hyojung says. âWeâll have an official vote for you to join, and I just want to let you know that Jeonwoo and I are on your side.â
âThank you.â
âOf course.â
She gives one last wave before she helps the struggling General walk back to his tent. He keeps turning around, telling you that he expects to hear an answer tomorrow. You smile, watching him leave.
What an eventful night.
You glance at Hyojungâs back, feeling grateful that youâve somehow mended ties with her. It makes you wonderâŚ
What kind of mean understanding is keeping the Darlaeans from being humane towards the Solarians?
But the question is too large and youâre too unknowledgeable to come up with an answer now. So instead, you stare at your healed hand. Youâll see the General tomorrow. Another smile creeps up to your lips. You wonder if heâll remember everything that has happened tonight. And you wonder what kind of snarky words will come out of his mouth. Youâll look forward to it. As well as the officer meetings.
Things are looking upâfor you and the Solarians. Things are going quite well.
âAhem.â
You scramble up from your futon, rubbing your eyes. Is someone outside your tent?
âSoldier Ryu?â
You bite your lip so hard, you taste blood. Thatâs definitely the Generalâs voice. But what is he doing outside your tent? Itâs practically dawn! You donât get up for duty for another two hours.
âYes, sir! Iâm up!â
Quickly, you try to make your hair look presentable, straightening your healer uniform that you usually sleep in (to avoid a morning hassle).
âMay I come in?â
Your heart leaps in your chest. âYes, sir!â
You didnât think that when he said he wanted to hear an answer, he wanted to hear it at the asscrack of dawn.
The curtains of your tent are tentatively pulled back and a quite hungover man steps in. âGood morning,â he greets you. His sharp, cold eyes are back again. So is the heavy weight on his shoulders. He sits down, confidently too, for a man who embarrassed himself last night in front of his subordinates.
âGood morning, sir. Are you going to ask about my hand?â
The General grunts. âI apologize for that.â
âNo need,â you say. âIt was funny. Hyojung and I had quite a laugh.â
âUsing your General as entertainment,â he says, cocking his head. âThatâs quite new, isnât it?â
âIt sure is.â
âSo you must know why Iâm here,â the General says. âUnfortunately, I drilled it in your head last night.â
âOh, yes you did.â The memory makes you smile.
âI want to promote you, soldier. So please, be one of my officers.â He says this decisively, looking you right in the eye with all the dignity in the world. You canât believe this is the same person you had the joy of talking to last night.
âI accept, sir,â you say, smiling. âI full-heartedly accept. Hyojung mentioned something about a vote, though.â
âAh, well, Iâm sure that will pass,â he says. âWhen the Lieutenant and I both agree on something, the others tend to, as well.â
âThank you, sir.â
He shakes his head. âI should be the one thanking you.â
âItâs for the paper and the ink and the matches,â you say. âYou didnât have toâŚâ
âItâs my duty to take care of my soldiers,â he replies. âThere will be an officer meeting later today. Youâve been formally invited.â
He nods. And with that, he stands. As he leaves the tent, he kneels down and snaps his fingers. A small flame begins to flicker in your oil lamp. You can practically feel him debating on saying something, but he leaves without another word. The warmth of the lamp permeates throughout the entirety of your tent. You feel warm inside too.
And later, you enter the central tent with Doyun by your side. Itâs an unspoken rule around hereâonly officers are allowed inside. You canât get rid of the nervosity curling at your gut. You canât even guarantee that youâll be talking much, but youâre worried what the others will think of you.
âThe meetings arenât that scary,â Doyun says. Sheâs trying to reassure you.
Hyojung catches your eye and waves. Jeonwoo gives you a small nod.
Thereâs a large, wooden table in the center of the tent. Itâs circular and allows mostâif not allâof the officers to get a good look at each other. It also means that all eyes are on you. Even when the General walks in to stand between you and Doyun, they continue to stare at you.
âSoldier Ryu will be joining us today,â the General says in his husky voice. He looks up and for a split second, your eyes meet. You quickly avert your gaze, though youâre not sure why. âI expect everyone to treat her with compassion.â
âWeâve been able to clear her name,â the Lieutenant adds. âSheâs not a Darlaean spy. Iâve shown you the evidence and I expect you to believe it.â
âAs you know, Soldier Ryu has been formulating our battle plans for weeksâalmost a full circa,â the General says. âShe has proven to us that she is an excellent soldier. Even with her recent memory loss, she has been working diligently in the medical tent and tending to our injured.â
âToday, weâd like to discuss our upcoming battle plans and make adjustments if we have to,â the Lieutenant says. âAre we all clear with that?â
âYes, sir!â the officers say in unison.
You have a hard time keeping up after that. Words are being thrown around. There are so many different opinions and so many different officers. The General and the Lieutenant run the meeting as though it really is a discussion. They allow everyone to voice their thoughts at least once. You stand there, the whole time, listening, taking new information in.
But itâs difficult when youâre not quite aware of their past plans. After a while, you can feel a migraine seeping in.
âThis plan wouldnât work,â an officer says. âItâs clearly been written by someone who has no experience in battle. Thereâs no way we can risk so many lives on the hunch that the Darlaeans will begin their attack from the north side.â He stares at you the entire time he speaks, thumbing his stubble. And immediately, you know that he dislikes you.
âI second that, Major Ahn,â another officer agrees. With her fingers adorned with countless rings, she points at the plans sprawled on the table. âItâd be stupid to risk the lives of many with small assumptions.â She glances at you, but when you maintain eye contact, she looks away.
âThe planâs asking for an ambush,â another officer speaks up. He crosses his arms, revealing a tattoo of a tiger engulfed in flames.âThe Darlaeans have been concentrating their attack from the south side for the past three battles. Theyâre not going to switch north so soon. Besides, their general likes to make arbitrary changes to their plans. Itâs nearly impossible to predict their movements.â
âSoldier Ryuâs done it before,â Jeonwoo says, addressing the Tiger Tattoo Man. âWhat makes you think she canât do it again?â
âMajor Lee, youâre not telling me that youâre actually allowing this to happen?â the man with the stubble sighs.
âOh, I am, Major Ahn,â Jeonwoo replies. âIn fact, the General and Lieutenant are endorsing it as well.â
âJust because the General and Lieutenant endorse it doesnât mean we will all follow blindly,â Tiger Tattoo Man says.
You glance at either side of you where Yoongi and Doyun stand. Why arenât they saying anything?
âLetâs face it. Some soldiers lack the maturity to be in this tent.â
âI agree. We canât be handing out the officer position to just anyone. And especially not to someone who hasnât reconnected with her element yet.â
âIâm still not buying the fact that she claims she has created these battle plans with no memory of the actual battleground.â
âItâs suspicious to me, too.â
âFrankly, I feel as if she should not be here.â
Your knuckles turn white from your gripping. You chew on your bottom lip, wondering how much more you can take before you burst. And why are the General and Lieutenant just standing there? Do they not want to defend you?
UnlessâŚ
You turn to Doyun. Sheâs avoiding eye contact as she stares straight into the scroll placed on the table. You glance at Yoongi. Youâre surprised when your eyes meet. But his eyes look soulless, and there are no emotions written across his face. Theyâre making it increasingly clear. Youâre on your own. They want to see how youâll act. Maybe this is some sort of entrance test. In that case, you wouldnât want to fail.
âIâm already here, so thereâs no point in sending me back, is there?â
Every soldier turns their head to stare at you. Most are giving you dirty looks; others wait patiently for your next words. The spotlight is a little uncomfortable but you plow through.
âThe Darlaeans will most definitely begin their attack on the north side. Iâve been testing it out, but it seems as though their general is using an interesting sequence to plan the battlesâitâs not arbitrary.â You point at the scroll. âThere are only two directions of attack: north and south. And a few days ago, I noticed a pattern. Theyâre spelling something out, canât you see? Itâs in code. And theyâve been repeating it over and over again. Look, itâs always the same five sequences. The second and fourth sequences are identical, too. Theyâre spelling something out, though I havenât quite figured out what. But if we follow their pattern, after a north, south, south, south, weâre due for a north. Assuming that they are attacking in code, then theyâll have their soldiers concentrated on the north side for the next battle.â You tap your pointer finger on the paper. âThe identical sequences likely spell out a vowel. âE,â maybe? Iâm not sure about the other three letters, though. I was wondering if anyone else could decipher itâŚ?â
âNorth, south, south, south⌠North⌠North, south, south⌠North⌠North, south, north, northâŚâ Major Ahn mumbles, scratching the stubble on his chin. âCaptain Im? Do you know?â
âI havenât seen this particular type of cipher beforeâŚâ Captain Im says. She twists a strand of her long, black hair with her finger. Humming, she drums her fingers on the wooden table. âIt looks outdated. But I do agree with Soldier Ryu. The second and fourth sequence have to spell out a vowel.â
âItâs in monocode,â a new officer intercedes. âReally archaic. Iâm surprised that the Darlaeans know of this. They must be more well-read than we think.â
âWhat does it say, Major Hyun?â Captain Im asks, wide-eyed and curious.
âIâm a little rusty,â the older woman answers. She massages the wrinkles on her forehead as her eyes narrow in deep thought. âBut if I remember correctly, the two vowels are an âE.â I canât say Iâm familiar with the other letters, though. The middle letter seems to be either a âWâ or a âV.ââ
âIâm sorry, but what if weâre thinking too much into this?â the officer with the rings says. She fidgets with her hands, her rings clinking as she does so. âIt doesnât make sense that after all these years the Darlaeans would try to reach us through code.â
âIâm on the same page as Major Ki,â the Tiger Tattoo Officer says. âIâm starting to think there is no code.â
âYou always agree with your girlfriend, Captain Chu,â Jeonwoo teases. âMaybe if you have one original thought, youâll understand that deciphering this code could mean something big for us.â
âShut your mouth, Major Lee,â Captain Chu grumbles. âOf course, with all due respect.â
âEither wayâŚâ Major Ki says. She twists the rings on her middle finger. âThis battle plan is for the third sector and I donât want my soldiers to get hurt over our false assumptions. My captains will agree with me.â
The two men beside herâwhich includes her boyfriendânod fervently.
âBut I actually think you can afford a risk, Major Ki,â Hyojung cuts in. âYour sectorâs been bringing home large wins for the past two weeks.â
âSo youâre telling me to take the chance and follow a mere soldierâs orders?â she says. Her ringed finger juts out as she points at you from across the table. Even now, she refuses to look into your eyes.
âYes,â Hyojung says. âMajor to Major, I think itâs the right thing to do.â
âIâll have to disagree,â Major Kiâs second captain speaks. âWhat if the Darlaeans implemented this code in order to trick us into believing it means something? And when theyâre sure theyâve got us wrapped around their finger, theyâll go for the kill. We wouldnât see it coming.â
âCaptain Yoo does have a valid pointâŚâ Major Hyun says. She sighs, rubbing her forehead. âBut itâs worth at least figuring out what the code says.â
âYouâve been awfully silent, Soldier Ryu,â the General says. Itâs the first time heâs spoken since the discussion had opened. So really, should he be saying this to you? âWhat are you thinking?â
Thatâs not an easy question to answer. You have too many thoughts and just too little time to say all of it in one go. So you say the simplest thought in mind:
âSever,â you say. âI think itâs saying âsever.ââ
âSo youâre claiming that youâve cracked the code,â Captain Chu says quite incredulously. His eyebrows arch as he gives you a doubtful look. âDo you have any proof?â
âNot⌠not really. But the Darlaeans have been severing our soldiersâ limbs the past month, so I just thoughtâŚâ
âIf the code really is saying âsever,â then theyâre sick,â Major Ki says, nervously twisting her rings.
âDo you think their codes align with their main method of attack?â Captain Im asks you.
âIâm not sure⌠But it can be our hypothesis for now.â
âAnother assumption!â Captain Chu shouts. âWe canât base our battle plans off of mere theories.â
âBut these assumptions and theories are a start,â you say. âWe need them as a springboard for our plans.â
âWe donât need your assumptions,â Captain Chu says. âHow much can you know if you canât remember having fought in battle? And not just any battle, but a battle in the third sector. Major Ki, Captain Yoo and I work at the forefront of the war. I donât think any other objections are allowed.â
âYou assume that because Iâm a soldier who has lost her memory, Iâm of no value,â you say slowly, drawing out each word. âSo because your assumption is correct, mine has to be wrong.â
Captain Chu scoffs. âDonât try to get snarky with me, Ryu. Iâm saying this as your superior.â
âAnd Iâm saying that I am right. They are going to move north for this third sector battle.â
âAnd Iâm saying that youâre wrong.â
Your legs shake under the table, and you grit your teeth. âFine.â
The Lieutenant jerks her head toward you, giving you a worried look.
âYou can think that Iâm wrong,â you say. âYou can scrap my battle plans and come up with your very own. But if you come back, bloodied and missing several limbs, your loved ones dead and your friends massacred, it wonât be my fault. I may not remember fighting in the third sector, but I was once a part of your unit. And if you treat all your soldiers as you have treated meâwith disregard and inferiorityâthen I fear for them. I donât care if you care for the lives of your soldiers. A good leader listens to his followers. And if your ears are stuffed full with your own bullshit, then Iâm sorry but I donât think youâll get very far in this war.â
Silence.
You can hear your own heart thumping in your chest. Oh no. Have you gone too far? But this whole meeting, youâve been bashed, degraded and thought of as stupid. How could you stand there and take it? Your hands begin to shake and sweat starts to accumulate on your forehead. Is anyone going to respond? Are you going to be kicked out for this?
OrâŚ
No. Youâll save yourself from embarrassment. Youâll leave first. But would that be giving up? Youâre so furious, so humiliated that you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You have to leave. You donât belong here. You thought you did. You had an inkling of hope that you did. But youâd been wrong. Your feet lurch forward, just about to run, when the Lieutenant places a hand on your shoulder.
âThatâs enough, Captain.â
âSheâs the one who went on a whole spielââ
âJaeno, stop.â Major Ki holds onto her captainâs arm and offers him a placating smile. âClearly, weâve underestimated our officer.â
Your head jerks up and with that motion, the tears begin to fall down your face.
She twists the rings on her finger, the metals gleaming in the light streaming into the tent. âI see why the Lieutenant and General were so adamant on bringing her here. She knows how to lead. She also put you in your place. Not many people can manage to do that.â She smiles. âCrying is good, officer. Let it out now. But you have my trust. I say we follow these plans.â
âMajor! You canât possiblyââ
âYou donât have to agree with me because youâre dating me, Jaeno. We can disagree from time to time,â Major Ki says. âBut youâll have to follow my orders, anyway.â She turns to the Generalâand even then, she canât quite look him in the eye. âSir, permission to lead my unit in this third sector battle?â
âGranted,â he says in his soft voice. He glances around the tent, gauging his officersâ countenance. Finally, he speaks. âThatâs the most disagreement weâve had in a while, wasnât it?â
His officers mumble in agreement.
âBut itâs been settled. Major Ki will lead her troops to the third sector, along with Captain Yoo and Captain Chu. There will be a vote next week for Officer Ryuâs official involvement in our meetings. Lieutenant Kang, please stay. The rest of you are dismissed.â
The autumn breeze cools the tears on your cheeks. You donât look back, only walking straight forward. Youâre not sure what to make of this. Youâre not sure how many will want you to stayâif enough will vote for your involvement at all. The orange sunlight rains down on you in shimmering bursts of color. You close your eyes, letting the warmth envelop your figure.
But goosebumps begin to dot your skin as you recall the chilling code the Darlaeans had embedded in their attacks.
Sever.
Theyâre going to continue this, severing whoeverâs in their path, killing your people with no mercy.
But⌠Something tells youâin a way that you cannot proveâthat this is a message. Sever. What are they trying to say? Sever.
Maybe you are thinking too much into it. Maybe this is just the Darlaeanâs sadistic game and youâve fallen in as their pawn. You shake the thoughts away.
Youâre a preliminary officer now. Itâs something to celebrate, not something to stress over. So you wander into your tent and watch the flickering flame of your oil lampâitâs the same fire that your General had lit earlier this morning. You didnât have the heart to extinguish it. It dances on top of the wick, casting a pretty shadow on the red fabric of your tent.
Beautiful.
Sever it. Sever, sever, sever.
The word wonât leave your fucking head. You press your temples hard with your fingers, hoping the pressure will keep your mind numb. But it wonât stop. Sever, sever, sever.
You stand up and the world seems to spin along with you.
Sever.
Why the hell does it feel like itâs speaking to you?
No, youâre going crazy. Youâre completely out of your mind. You sink into your futon, wrapping your body around with your blankets. Itâs still light out, but you tell yourself to sleep, chanting the command over and over again in your head. It drowns out the other wordâthe unspeakable wordâand soon, your fatigue catches up to you.
When the General stops by your tent later that day to drop off some more paper and ink, he finds you sleeping inside. He freezes. He doesnât want to intrude. He catches a glimpse of your figure, curled up in your thin blanket. You frown when you sleep. Maybe itâs because youâre cold.
You wake up the next morning with a wool blanket on top of your linen one. Youâre confused, wondering where it couldâve come from. Then, you notice near the entrance of your tent is a neat stack of paper and ink. Oh. Warmth blossoms in your chest. You know exactly who did this for you.
Itâs funny. Long ago, Yoongi mightâve sworn to apathy. Itâs better that way, and itâs easier to cope. But for Soohtâs sake, it doesnât mean heâs completely heartless.
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⨰ a/n: i have nothing to say except yoongi đŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠđŠ anyways! i've been updating once a week for the past three weeks, but i'm gonna have to regress to once every two weeks since i'm off my winter break soon đđbut i hoped you enjoyed the longest mf chapter so far!
please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!
⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nationâotherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.
⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15
⨰ warnings: profanity, mentions of blood, (very) minor character deaths, brief descriptions of injuries (severed limbs)
⨰ wordcount: 11.9k
⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)
⨰ a/n: thank you so much @the-berry-named-ari for beta-reading this longass chapter!
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â§â§Circa Sapphâ§â§
Thereâs always too much time and too little to do. At least, for you.
Joonâs frequently busy, leaving you to sit on your cot and contemplate about anything that wanders into your mind that dayâthe weather, the next meal theyâd serve, what your life had been like before youâd lost your memories⌠Sometimes, on slower days, you even wonder what the General is doing; you havenât seen him since the first time youâve met him (which isnât a great sign since neither of you probably has a spotless first impression of the other). But thoughts of the General are quick and fleeting. You never like to dwell on the war.
Instead, you focus on your fantasies. Youâve conjured up quite a handful, fleshing them out in your mind when you have spare time. But all you really have left is spare time, so in a span of a week, youâve curated years and years worth of your own backstory. Itâs an intricate plotline, and with your limited knowledge of the lands of Solaria, youâve managed to weave together a believable past.
Youâre an only child from Araâthe place that Joon talks about so oftenâand your family consists of a long line of water mediums. When you were younger, you lived in a nice, sturdy cottage in the middle of Araâs expansive tundra lands with your parents and Nya, your cat. Nyaâs your best friend, until one day, she leads you straight to another girl playing alone on a frozen brook. You have two best friends after that: Nya and Hyejin. You and Hyejin are partners found by fateâso alike yet so different in all the best ways possible. Youâre an adventurer, a lover of the unknown; Hyejin is too, but she prefers to stay in the familiar for the sake of security. She becomes your best friend for the next nine years of your life, until you characteristically decide to fight in the war and she decides to pursue her lifelong dream of becoming a blacksmith. (Oh yes, sheâs a fire medium like you, too. Though in your fantasy, you also like to pretend you double as a water medium. Well, not quite. In your deepest, most unrealistic fantasies, youâre a medium for all of the elements. Though youâre not very sure how one comes to work with all of them. But thatâs a question youâll probably have Joon answer later.) Anyways, thatâs all besides the point. You meet the love of your life in this war. And you especially like to think that you meet them in the midst of a gruesome battle. Both of you are tired and bloody and injured, but you bump into each other and itâs like love at first sight. After that moment, the two of you are inseparable. They gift you your diamond necklace on a warm summer night and you promise them then and there that youâll never take it off. You fight many, many battles with them by your side. Until the day that you lose your memories. They die in the battle that you barely survive, and when you see their slumped body over the bloody dirt, you scream. Their death leaves you so distracted, so hurt that you begin to run. You donât know where youâre running, just know that you want to get away. Maybe youâre looking for Hyejin, or your cat, Nya. Or your parents. Either way, you run and run, unknowingly crossing to Darlaean territory. Until something hits you at the back of your head. Hard.
And now here you are.
Itâs probably unhealthy to come up with such a delusional backstory for yourselfâfull of love and nice things (except for the last bit, of course). So itâs really a breath of fresh air when Namjoon comes to spark conversations with you on his off-shifts. He likes to talk about happy thingsâmostly funny stories of his cats and his husbandâto keep you distracted from your painful healing process. You suspect that heâs given up on regaining your memory. There have been concussions in this tent before, but none as bad as yoursânone so bad that it wiped away every memory that the soldier ever had. Other healers have tried to help you spark some of your memory, but those attempts have always been fruitless. Which is why you stick to your fantasies, and your questions begin to stack up.
âHi, Joon.â
âGood morning, dear!â A bright smile stretches across the manâs lips. âHow are you feeling today?â
âAll right,â you reply. There have been better days. Of course, however, you wouldnât exactly know for sure. âI was just thinking.â
âThat seems to be the pattern for you, huh?â Joon snorts. âBut try not to overthink. I canât exactly prove it, but Iâm pretty sure it slows down your healing.â
You smile politely at his concern for your health. But if you shouldnât overthink, what else is there to do? If you donât get your questions answered, how little will you know? âBut Joon, I came up with some questions when I was uh, well, when I was overthinking.â
Joon laughs, shaking his head. âAh, I knew I couldnât stop you, dear. So what are they?â
âI was just wondering how Solarians come to work with their elements.â Translation: I want to know how many elements I worked withâif I worked with more than one at all. âAre we born with the ability to wield certain elements?â
Joon watches your wide, curious eyes and canât help but smile. âEvery Solarian possesses the ability to wield the four elements, dear. But most choose to wield one. Maybe two.â
âReally?â Your mouth parts in surprise. Aha! So there must be something that stops most Solarians from learning to work with more than one or two elements. And if that is true, then what didnât stop the general?
Namjoon watches your forehead visibly wrinkle from your thoughts. âI was born with an innate connection with water,â he says. âItâs actually been passed down in my family for generations,â he explains. âThough once in a while, we get a random earth medium in our midsts. My older sister, actuallyâwait sorry, anyways, my point is, whatever you decide to wield other than the element youâre born with is all up to you, dear. Well, thatâs if youâre born with an element in the first place. Some arenât. My great auntâsorry, you get the point. Itâs a choice really, being able to work with our elements. Unless youâre born with one and decide itâs your ride or die. I hope that clears a little bit of your confusion.â
If you have a good grasp of your own character, youâre pretty damn sure youâd venture on to connect with all four of the elements. Judging by how much longing dwells in your heart to go outside, see anything other than the red fabric of the tent⌠You wouldâve strived for everything and anything. UnlessâŚ
âJoon, why didnât you learn to wield fire and air?â
Namjoon pauses because he laughs awkwardly, eyebrows slightly raised and lips curved up in a smile that isnât as genuine as his others. And for a second, you think youâve crossed a line. But your healer relaxes and grants you an answer.
âItâs honestly not the kind of explanation youâd hope for,â he says, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. âI always thought fireâs dangerous. And sure, Iâm a little scared of it. Itâs not exactly something I thought I could handle. As for air? I guess itâs just not me. As an earth medium, I like to say Iâm pretty grounded, you know? Not all up in the air like the air mediums tend to be,â he laughs. âI should know. My husbandâs one of them.â
Ah. Solarians only choose as many elements as they believe they are fit to work with. They seem to know and acknowledge their own limits. It makes you wonderâŚ
What does that say about you?
Are you fit to work with all four? What did your past self decide? Can you connect with more elements than youâve previously decided? But for the General to have been so unfamiliar with your presence⌠you mustâve been just a fire mediumâa face that blurs in with the crowd. A face that he never bothered to give a second glance. Itâs a thought that provokes a fiery challenge within you. Fine. The General will see. You wonât blend in with the crowd this time around. Youâre going to make sure he remembers you, for Soohtâs sake, or whatever the fuck was the phrase he favored so much. Youâre going to build yourself up again, memories or not.
âAre you asking me all these questions because you want to reconnect with your elements?â
He caught you.
âO-Oh, me?â Itâs a stupid question, you know, but Joon had surprised you with his perceptiveness. âWell, I wasnât even sure if I could connect with multiple elements, Joon. Iâve tried what you told me to doâyou know, with imagining each element sitting at the palm of my hand⌠But Iâm still unsure which ones call to meâif any call to me at all.â
Namjoon has this blank look on his face. A look of which confuses you. What is he thinking? Is this bad? Are you supposed to feel something when you imagine the elements?
Finally, Joon speaks. âYou shouldnât worry,â he says. âTo be quite frank, I think your number one priority right now is to heal that nasty wound of yours. Iâve told you, Y/N, from the looks of it, you were assigned to fight in the third sector, and soldiers there tend to be our best and brightest. I think youâll connect with the elements again in no time. Meanwhile, I asked around,â Joon says, eyebrows raising with newfound glee. âBut Iâm allowed to have you as my assistant the moment you get better!â
Of course. Theyâll keep you from fighting until you at least have your elements back. Maybe they wonât even let you fight until you regain your memory. Hm. But being Joonâs assistant doesnât sound half-bad, and youâll be safe from the battles for the time being. Besides, youâll finally get out of your bed and explore the outside world of the red tent.
For a week, whenever someone entered or left the tent, youâd be teased with just a glimpse of the outside; youâve collected bits and pieces of the exterior world in your mindâvibrant red leaves, amber-colored trees and the soft, autumn glow in the sky. Even with a similar color palette as the world youâre used to in the tent, the realm outside tugs at your heartstrings. It feels real. And warm.
But you know sure as hell only in your fantasies would the outside world be as peaceful as it looks.
â§â§Circa Opalâ§â§
Your legs wobble from their lack of use, but you grit your teeth and step forward. Another steady step. Your body no longer retaliates in pain when you moveâa tribute to your healer. Another step forward. A glance at Namjoon. He gives you a supportive nod, and with the flick of his hand, sweeps open the thick, red curtains of the medical tent.
Immediately, youâre inundated with color. Flits of gold-spun sunshine, specks of coral light shining through the reddening leaves, the last of the greenness dissipating along with the progression of autumn. Your eyes widen, and your lips quiver. Itâs so beautiful that you canât configure words to say.
âThatâs Alder for you,â Namjoon says.
You blink. âSorry?â
âSector Alder,â Namjoon replies, eyes glinting in the aureate sunlight. âOh dear, I mustâve forgotten to tell youâthe most important thing, too!â He smiles sheepishly. âThis is Alder, the sector weâre living in right now. The earth mediums generously volunteered their land for the war. Of course, I think when they volunteeredâwhich was decades and decades agoâthey didnât think the fighting would last this long.â
âOhâŚâ You turn your head to stare at the healer. âSo how long has this war been going on, then?â
Namjoon shakes his head. âAs long as I can remember, dear. It was there when I was born. It was there when my parents were born. It was there when my grandparents were born. For Sahnâs sake, it was there when my great great great great grandparents were born!â
Over a century, then. The warâs been going on for many, many decades. Itâs a little worrisome, how long this war has tainted the lives of thousands. How much longer will it go on? How much longer can everyone else take it? And who will prevail?
Outside this medical tent are hundreds and hundreds of more scarlet-colored tents dotting the lush, verdant grass. The distance between each tent is about the length of another tent itself, and youâre not sure if that grants enough privacy for youâthough itâs an upgrade from the medical tent where everyone can see anyoneâs business. These tents stretch on forever and ever on the smooth expanse of land, only stopping near taller grass that leads right into a towering coniferous forest. You become lost in your gaze, your eyes settling on the very peaks of these grand trees.
âThese are where the soldiers live. Well, of course, not all the soldiers because a lot of themâokay well, most soldiers live out there. You know, the soldiers who are uh, uninjured. Healers live out here too. So really, youâre looking at the living quarters of our army.
âThat one over thereâs mine,â Namjoon says as he points off to the distance. His tent could be one of thirty in the area, but you smile and nod. âAnd now that youâre my assistant,ââhe says this with a proud look on his faceââyou get to live in one of these too!â
âOh wow⌠Yeah, that sounds great.â It really does, but you blame the lack of excitement in your words with the new revelation you just had. It just hits you now how real this is. Youâre no longer an injured soldier in a medical tent. Youâre to actually make a living here, in Solaria, in Alder, as an assistant healer. Somehow. Without your memories or your elements.
âI share my tent with ten other healers, but the General personally saw to it that you get your very own living spaceâjust like our officers! That man has a heart of gold, I tell you. He knows youâve been through so much.â
Your brows twist. Youâre pretty sure that allocating you to a separate tent was an act of precaution and not kindness. But, of course, you could be wrong. Maybe the General does feel bad about hauling you upâinjuries and allâto interrogate you. He couldâve easily stuck you in a ten-person tent and forced you to keep up with other Solarians who all have their lives intact. So maybe it is generous of him to grant you your very own space, where you can play catch up and wind down after particularly stressful days.
âAaaand this is your home!â Namjoon says. âItâs not too close to the medical tent, but close enough so that you wonât have to walk too long to report to duty.â He stops you in front of a smaller red tent, grinning widely as he gestures towards the entrance. âWould you like to take a look inside, dear? Youâll be living here from now on, so you might as well get all cozied up.â
You donât know what you were expecting. You donât even know if youâd ever even imagined what the inside of your tent would look like. But your eyes glisten in wonder when you pull back the scarlet curtains to see a dirt floor embellished with an intricate straw mat and a thin, gray futon resting in the corner, draped with a linen blanket. A little unlit oil lamp sits by the other corner of the tent, waiting to be used later tonight. Itâs small, quaint, and frankly, minimalistic but itâs now home.
You smile.
âI love it.â
âWell, thatâs a relief! And Iâm not even sure what we wouldâve done if you hated it.â
You stifle a laugh. âI wouldâve had to deal with it, I suppose.â Your eyes wander around your tent again. The more you look at it, the more you love it. Itâs simple, sure, but itâs cozy at the same time. Besides, this is your very own spaceâout here, red doesnât mean pain; it doesnât even mean blood. It means warmth. And cordiality.
âIt looks a lot like youâre bonding with your home already,â Joon laughs, watching your eyes twinkle with thought. âIâll get out of your hair, then. But our shift starts tomorrow at 5 a.m. Youâll hear the water clock chiming.â Your eyes widen, and Joon pauses, shaking his head. âOh, donât worry. It wonât be that bad. Our soldiers usually come back from battle midday, so we wonât have a busy tent. The only thing thatâll be hard tomorrow is waking up,â he says with a smile.
Heâs trying to reassure you and it works. Your lips mirror his smile as you nod. âThanks, Joon. Really.â
The man just shrugs his shoulders. âItâs the least I can do, dear. I canât imagine what youâre going through.â
Oh.
You canât either. Because what are you going through, really? Other soldiers suffer from remembering what they canât help to remember. You⌠You, however, âsufferâ from being unable to recall anything at all. You have the blissful ignorance that so many soldiers covet. So are you really going through worse things than the other soldiers? When you are exempt from battle? When you have your own personal tent? When you donât know the brutality of the war?
Namjoon leaves you, and youâre finally alone for the first time in weeks. There are too many thoughts piling up in your head. Too many worries and doubts and questions.
So you distract yourself by sinking down on your futon, hands smoothing out the thin blanket on top. You slip off the boots that had kept your feet warm and marvel at the feeling of the scratchy straw mat against your bare skin. Then, in rapid motion, you slip the precious container containing your most prizedâand onlyâpossession out of your pocket and hide it behind the futon. Itâs better to keep it safe than be sorry later when youâve lost it.
Once you quadruple-check that the container hasnât walked off on its own into an unfathomable void, you finally allow yourself to relax. Your eyes begin to wander around your tent againâfor a closer look.
Thereâs not much to it, really. A bed, a lamp, a blanket, a mat. The ceiling is quite low and tapers up into a peak at the very center. Sunlight filters through the fabric of the tent, exuding a warm glow that echoes in the modest space. On the ground, parts where the straw mat doesnât reach, sits the dirt. But itâs not the crumbly sorts that get between your toes and drives you crazy; itâs the smooth kind, almost like stone. You wonder if any earth mediums modified the ground to be like this, almost unnaturally smooth. You wonder if you had helped in this alleged practice. You could have been an earth medium. You could have lived on these lands, watching sweet Alder morph into a campground for the war. You could have felt for the soldiers fighting for their lives, the officers who dedicated their existence to this war. You could have sneaked into battleâagainst your loved onesâ wishesâjust to quench your thirst as a curious, young soul. You could haveânoâyou did get hurt. And that explains the reason that the General didnât recognize you. You werenât a soldier at all! Just a curious, naĂŻve, earth medium.
No.
No. Youâre practically losing your mind. Why are you so curious? Why do you need to know your past? Why are you soâso desperate?
Isnât this your chance to start over? Isnât this your chance to live without the burden of memory and consequence and pain and misery? This is your freedom.
But whyâŚ
For fuckâs sake, you canât do this anymore. You stand up, nearly bumping your head on the ceiling of your tent, and you scramble out, hit by the last of the golden sunlight and the beginning of a sweet ochre sunset. When you regain your balance, your eyes land on a small unit of twentyâmaybe thirtyâsoldiers. Fire mediums.
As if you are in a trance, you walk forward.
Itâs beautiful. Oh, itâs really beautiful.
Your eyes light up in flames, watching them. Soldiersâpeople just like youâwho kindle burning embers from their fingertips, who ignite the brightest spark from their hands, who have their eyes drenched in fire, too. They practice in pairs, practice as a unit, practice individually. They configure gaseous spheres of fire and exercise their throw. They carefully scrutinize the color of their flames, flickering between ice blue and warm red. Their jubilant fires create shadows that dance merrily along the green grass. Theyâre friendly with each other, too, chortling and chattering and laughing. Even when officials walk pastâand you know theyâre officials by the number of notches on the collar of their uniformâthey carry on with their happy practice. But the thought allows you to shift from admiring the fiery flames to the soldiersâ attire.
The Solarian uniform is made of cotton, flaunting a sturdy yet flexible frame. Of course, the fabrics are dyed a beautiful shade of deep scarlet, and each soldier wears a sash around their waist, the gold ribbons fluttering in the wind along with the slightest of movements. But only the officers and the General himself wear gilded cords looped around their sash. That and the numbers of notches on their collars are the only things that reveal the rankings of the soldiers. The soldiers in the units have one notch on their collar; officers have two; and only the General has all three. Theyâre so-subtle indications of authority, and they make you look twice to know who is your direct superior and who is just like you. Of course, the General stands out either way with the golden, circular emblem stitched to the middle of his uniform. And even though he likes to demand that no one bows in his presence, his uniform alone commands respect.
Youâve seen how he is in the medical tentâall business, all authoritative and coarseâyet when a dying soldier calls for him, his countenance softens to the most delicate expression. And with that husky voice of his, he mutters words of affirmation. Words that youâve heard him say right next to you, when your neighbor had once been a suffering, dying soldier.
âThank you, Yebon. You can rest now. For Soohtâs sake, you deserve it, soldier. Go meet your wife, and say hello to her for me. Youâre okay now. Youâll be okay⌠Youâve fought for a very long time. Leave the rest to me and the others. Because, because youâve made grand accomplishments as a Solarian. AndâAnd Iâm proud of you, soldier. Iâm prââ
He had only stopped talking when he realized the soldier had passedâpeacefully, too. Her eyes were closed and there was this content smile on her lipsâmaybe because of the Generalâs kind words. Or maybe because she had finally escaped the war. Youâll never know.
But those words, those kind words had left you nearly speechless. Theyâre the longest string of words youâve heard him say so up close to you, which is a surprise in it itself. But the words also carry so much meaningâeven to you, though youâre not on your deathbed and you havenât recently been in a lethal battle. Iâm proud of you. Hearing that from anyone, especially from someone as important as your General, would warm your heart, make you almost glad that youâre dying. Because itâll be the last thing you hear before you drift away from reality forever.
So the memory sears in your head.
âHey! Hi, hello! Hellooo?â
You jump, hands flying to regain your balance as you look up to see a rather short but looming figure. When you squint and get a better look, you find that the figure is a young womanâone in the Solarian uniform.
She sports a round face with full cheeks, her smooth, raven hair falling straight from her head with a simple clip pinning it behind one ear. Her thin lips are pulled up into the widest grin youâve ever seen (or can remember seeing), and her short button nose wrinkles at the effort. Sheâs talking to you. Why? Does she know you from before? Oh, this is exhilarating. Fascinating, even. But the thing that fascinates you the most about herâthis already fascinating womanâis her eyes. Theyâre the deepest, widest, prettiest hooded eyes youâve ever seen, and gazing into them makes you momentarily forget how to breathe.
But the woman giggles and it brings you back to reality. âSorry, did I interrupt you with something? I just saw you watching us train and then you started staring off into the distance without blinking.â She giggles so hard that she snorts. âI kind of felt bad because you missed dinner. You were so deep in thought that you didnât even notice us leaving for food!â
Thatâs when you see sheâs holding a worn-down brass bowl filled with steaming porridge. âLook! I heated it up for you,â she smiles. âItâs pumpkin porridge. Doesnât it smell nice? They usually give us some sort of gross, green and gray mushâlike spinach or mugwort.â She makes a face. âBut todayâs definitely our lucky day!â
The woman is friendly and talkative, but youâre starting to drift back into your thoughts again. How long had you been just staring? The amber sunset had completely dissipated into darkness, save for the couple hundred twinkling stars, which means youâve been here for hours. Before you lose yourself to your thoughts again, you smile, light flooding into your eyes.
âOh, thank you,â you say, taking the warm bowl from the woman. âI donât even know what to say.â These acts of kindness⌠Do you know this woman? âYou didnât have toâŚâ
âOf course I had to!â she argues, shifting her stance so that her hand is on her hip. âI canât just let a healer starve! Healers are the reason Iâm still alive. Healers are the reason weâre all still alive!â
Ah, so this implies that this woman doesnât know you. Youâre only âa healerâ to herâwhich is barely true. Youâre just in a taupe tunic, feigning to be a healer when you arenât even sure youâre a water medium.
âYou should enjoy your dinner,â she tells you, grinning widely. âI promise us soldiers will work hard. Your diligence in the tents will not go to waste!â She bows to you, her body folding in half and her nose practically touching her knees. When she stands, sheâs still got that grin on her face. And before you can say any more words, she spins on her heels and skipsâyes, skipsâaway.
You didnât even get her name.
The only evidence of your pleasant encounter with this kind soldier is the steaming bowl of pumpkin porridge in your hands. A simple wooden spoon rests against the rim and you pick it up, ladling a little bit of the porridge in it. Your stomach growls. Youâd forgotten how hungry you were.
Gently, you spoon the porridge in your mouth and swallow. Itâs divine. Warm on your tongue, slightly chewy and sweet. Before you know it, youâve finished the entire bowl, taking a much-needed gulp of air afterward. Then, you stare at the empty bowl and wooden spoon, unsure where to put them and how to wash them. Debating on the logistics a little, you finally decide to take your bowl back into your tent. Itâs getting a little chilly now, and the wind makes you shiver even inside the confines of your new home. You place the bowl near the entrance of the tent so you wonât forget about it in the morning. Quickly thereafter, you snuggle under your linen blanket, the futon cushioning your back. Thereâs a cylindrical buckwheat pillow that supports your neck just right. You breathe out, stomach full and content.
An hour passes. Then, two. You welcome the silvery chime of the water clock every time. You canât seem to fall asleep. Maybe itâs because youâre subconsciously worried about tomorrowâor today, according to the time. Or maybe youâre just cold. Turning to the side, you eye the pretty oil lamp in the corner of your room. Itâs not much, but some fire could warm you, right?
Gently lifting your covers off of you, you pad over, barefoot, to pick up the cold oil lamp. Itâs then when you realize there are no matches. Another reminder that youâre not the fire medium that you should be. Sighing, you place the oil lamp next to your futon for false warmth and snuggle back into your blanket. You lull yourself to sleep, imagining that thereâs a flickering flame in that lamp, emitting heat and keeping you safe. In your dream, you simply snap your fingers to light the burned wick at the end of the old oil lamp. Then, you sit back and admire the blaze, a glowing smile playing on your lips.
âThatâs our water storage. And thatâs where we keep our extra bandages and medical tools. Oh, donât worry, you wonât have to use them any time soon. Those are only for emergencies. Mostly, we use our wielding for everything around here. Er, I mean, you can still help with the um, smaller things. Like⌠Like sponging down our soldiers and rebandaging their wounds!â
You gnaw at your lip. Itâs only your first day in the tent but youâre already inundated with things to learn. Itâs worse that one mess up can affect someoneâs life. A mistake in the medical tent can send someone spiraling straight to their grave. You shudder. But in contrast to your thoughts: âI can do it, Joon,â you say with a sort of firmness that surprises you. I think.
Namjoon smiles, giving you two giant thumbs up. âItâs pretty early so most of our patients are sleeping, anyway. If any of them wake up and call for someone, you can tend to them. Call me if they ask for something you donât know how to do.â
Heâs going to let you alone in the medical tent just like that? How does he know youâll do a good job? How does he know you wonât fuck up and accidentally hurt someone? How does he trust you at all?
âSo? Any questions, my dear soldier?â he asks. Then, he corrects himself. âWell, I guess youâre a healer now for the time being though. Your uniform looks good on you, you know. This is only a temporary job, anyway. Youâll be fine. But if you do have any questions, Iâm always open to answering them.â
Oh but you have too many questions. And the first one that comes out of you happens to be the most insignificant one of all. âUm, where do I put this?â
Namjoon laughs when he sees you holding up your bowl and wooden spoon from last night. âHere, I can take that,â he says. âUsually, us healers will wash our dishes with our wielding, but soldiers who arenât also water mediums will just plop their bowls into one of the water barrels outside. Youâll see them around the fires.â
âAh, right. Thank you,â you say. âIâll do that next time.â
âIâm really glad you found dinner, though. I was so busy I couldnât bring you any, even though I totally planned to. But I guess it all worked out in the end. The pumpkin porridge was good, wasnât it? I actually prefer the mugwort one they serve all the time. Partly because Iâm the one who cultivates them. Oh dear, Iâm rambling, arenât I? Anyway, do you have more questions?â
Before you can say anything elseâmaybe even ask if you can have a few matches if the supplies permitâsomeone calls for Namjoon.
âHey, Joon, General said he wanted at least fifty cots cleared out by mid-morning. Which soldiers are healthy enough for release?â
âUh oh,â Joon tells you. âWorkâs already starting for me. Hang around tight and when a soldier calls for you, talk to them. If they ask you for Incha, tell them weâre working on it and weâll have it ready by the afternoon.â
Heâs off before you can even ask what Incha is. And after that, itâs all a blur. Soldiers begin to wake up one by one in their cots, all asking for this mysterious âIncha.â Each time, you relay the message that Joon had told you and watch as their hopeful faces fall. But before you can crumble at their disappointment, thereâs another soldier calling for your assistance.
Thereâs barely a second to rest. Barely a moment to think.
For days on end, youâre constantly on the tips of your toes, ready to spring into action when anyone flags you over. And while youâre not qualified enough to heal, or really do anything that a real Solarian healer does, you can offer your emotional support. Mostly, you pacify the soldiers who begin to wail the moment they wake up, their nightmares threatening to engulf them whole. You whisper sweet affirmations in their ear and offer them a cup of Incha, which they down immediately and feel much better after. Other times, when the pain gets too bad and the screams get too loud, you have to call for another healer.
Slowly, you learn your place in the tent, and things begin to turn like clockwork. And the more well-acquainted you become with being an assistant healer, the more responsibilities youâre given. Two weeks in, you become in charge of changing the soldiersâ bandages. Three weeks in, youâre allowed to help during the busiest hours in the largest medical tent on the grounds. That very night, you lie awake in bed, unable to sleep. The horrors youâd witnessed remain in your mind, haunting and tormenting you.
The Darlaeans donât treat us as humans, the General had told you one full moon ago. People would do anything to win. Darlaeans would do anything to win.
Youâve seen soldiers with their limbs completely seared offâand thatâs considered to be a âluckyâ injury. Some soldiers come in vomiting their bodyâs entire contents of blood, until theyâre delirious from blood loss and barely alive. Others come drenched in their own blood, which hardens around their nose and mouth like a scab, slowly suffocating them to death. Most come into the tent unconscious. The ones who are awake are usually screaming in pain.
You canât get their wide, bloodshot eyes out of your head.
By the time your shifts end, your uniform is splattered with blood that isnât yours. You always retreat back to your tent, sluggish but well-awake. Joon often sends you back with a cup of warm Inchaâwhich you learn is a healing tea made specially by water mediums from a plethora of mixed roots and herbs. Sipping the acerbic tea to keep yourself warm in your cold tent, you take time for yourself, trying to forget what had happened in the daytime. Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesnât. On especially bad days, you escape the solitude of your tent and watch the soldiers train, their scarlet flames dancing freely in the silver moonlight. Fire always brings you peace, and you watch them train until you feel the fatigue settling in your mind. So you go to bed, wake up and do everything over again.
There are days when you never even get back to your tent. Those are the days when no one gets to sleepânot you, nor the healers, nor the General himself. You donât let a second waste. Youâd once fought for this nation; youâd gotten injured and youâd been healed. This is how you honor the ones who are still fighting.
And unbeknownst to you, the General notices your hard work. He sees you, sweat dripping down your forehead, your sleeves rolled all the way up to your upper arm, your hair tied straight back and out of your face. He sees you, gently bandaging up injured soldiers, talking to them, solacing them, showing them kindness with a gentle smile on your face. He sees you working with the other healers in beautiful harmony. The General canât help but raise his eyebrows. But before you can turn and meet his gaze, he marches out of the tent. He needs to be somewhere else, anyway.
Your days blend in together. Itâs not necessarily a great thing. Being in the medical tent is suffocating. In order to heal others, you must sacrifice your own comfort and health. And while you are precise and meticulous (as Namjoon compliments), you tend to panic when you see someone undergoing excruciating agony (as Namjoon also notices). It makes you as vulnerable to pain as any soldier on the battlefield is.
âThis empathy of yours is draining you, isnât it?â Namjoon says. âBut then again, I havenât even gotten used to the brutality of the Darlaeansâ attacks, either. I think theyâre getting worse these days. It wasnât like this before, but the tentâs always crowded.â
Heâs right. You notice that the medical tent has gotten progressively busier. All the more suffocating it is, too. Sometimes, you have to step out just to breathe.
âI donât know how you do it, Joon,â you say. âI just feel so⌠so out of control in there.â
He pats your back. âI would tell you that youâll get used to it, but you wonât.â
Thanks.
âBut,â he continues, âbut we learn to suck it up. Weâre not the ones out there risking our lives for Solaria. Weâre the ones who feel the pain and the glory vicariously through our soldiers. Weâre here to help them, no matter how challenging it may be for us. Whatever we face in thereâŚâ he trails off. âWhatever we face in that tent, you have to know itâs probably a thousand times worse on the battlefield.â
You nod. âOf courseâŚâ You bring the brass cup full of Incha to your lips and you take a small sip before sighing out. âIs the General empathetic?â
Namjoon cocks his head at your sudden question. âIs he now?â he laughs. âWell, I think he definitely is. I think you have to be. Well, everyone should be empathetic. But to be a leader like that, commanding hundreds of thousands of soldiers⌠he needs to connect to his soldiers somehow. If not by status then by acting human and humane. Why do you ask, dear?â
You shrug your shoulders, staring off into the distance where units of soldiers are practicing as the sun sets over the horizon. âJust curious.â
Youâre always curious, and youâll never get that scene out of your head: the General, sitting alone on a cot, hands in his face, elbows resting against his knees, back hunched miserably. His black hair is matted with what looks like blood. His uniform is sullied, but he doesnât care. A soldier had been lying on that same cot just a few minutes ago. But they had to carry him off. Probably to a graveyard somewhere.
It hurt you then to see it, and it hurts you now to even think about it. To be in charge of so many lives and then to have so many of them die⌠You canât imagine it. If the General really is that empathetic as Namjoon says, you feel sorry for him. If you were in his position, you wouldâve wished to be the most cold-hearted bastard possible. Itâd be easier to deal with the deaths.
âI can practically hear you think,â Joon laughs. âYou know, you bite at your lip a lot when you think hard? Thatâs how I know youâre lost in thought right now.â
You hadnât even known about that habit of yours. It makes you wonder how often youâd subconsciously done it for even a busy man like Namjoon to notice. âI just donât find it fair that the Darlaeans can treat us like this⌠and we, what do we do?â
âIâm sure we do our fair share of damage,â Namjoon says. He sips his tea, humming as the bitter taste tinges his tongue. âBut Iâm not sure weâre as cruel as they are.â
âI donât understand⌠itâs not fair.â
If it goes on like this, Solariaâs going to lose the war.
Namjoon turns to you, his eyebrows raised but a soft, melancholy look brimming in his eyes. âOf course itâs not. You never win by fighting fair.â
âThen we need a new strategy!â you exclaim. âWe need to try something new. We canât just let our soldiers die out in mass numbers and stand here doing nothing.â
âBut weâre not doing nothing, dear,â Namjoon says. He puts a warm hand on your shoulder. âWe havenât surrendered. Weâre still fighting.â
Maybe Joon doesnât get it. Fighting isnât a solution. Itâs a last-ditch resort when nothing else works. A new strategy⌠Thatâs what the Solarians need.
You can almost envision the battlefield, the soldiers crying out as they march forward, some falling and getting back up, others staying on the ground. Dead. You can envision the fire, the desperate flames that shoot out of the soldiersâ fingertips. But itâs almost no use against the Darlaeanâs magic. Whatever theyâre doing is severing the Solariansâ limbs, discerping their arms and legsâeven occasionally beheading them. Youâve seen the headless bodies being carried back from the fields. Youâve seen the soldiers bow in respect over the corpses, heads low and faces grim. Youâve seen the General, face so dark he looked like death himself, staring intently at the bodiesâa tragedy so grievous that he can barely look away. No. There has to be a better way.
âFireâŚâ
âSorry?â Joon says. He turns to you, a curious look on his face.
âFire,â you say again, more resolutely. Where are you going with this? No matter. You let your train of thought take the reigns. âOur soldiers are all fire mediums.â
âYes, dear, they areâŚâ Joon looks puzzled, and frankly, he looks worried. The man is about ten seconds away from checking your temperature when you speak again.
âBut some are notâŚâ
âYesâŚ?â
âYet the only training they do is with their fire wielding,â you say, carefully, slowly. âWhy?â
Namjoon cocks his head. âBecause⌠Well, because fire is the only element we use in war.â
âBut why?â
Namjoon sighs. âItâs always been like this, dear. As long as I can remember, at least. Fire does the most damage. Fireâs always the best. Fire does this and that. What would we do with an air or earth medium in battle? I canât imagine myself using my earth wielding to fight.â
âOh.â
Itâs all you can really say. And even back in your cold tent that night, shivering under the covers, his words echo in your ears. Itâs always been like this. Fire does the most damage.
Does it really?
Fireâs always the best.
Who says? And this coming from someone who doesnât wield fire? Is there an elemental hierarchy youâre completely unaware of?
These questions simmer in your head for another two weeks.
Itâs always been like this.
But what does that matter? Itâs been like this and the Solarians are seemingly losing the war. So how effective is this strategy, anyway? Isnât it time to try something new?
Youâre not an elemental connoisseur. Hell, youâve lost your ability to wield and severed all connections with your elements. ButâŚ
When you think the General isnât paying attention, you watch him. Heâs the only officer you know, so if youâre trying to get your ideas across to someone, isnât he the best person to consult?
The General is always busy, however. He comes immediately back from battle and heals along with the healers. Sometimes, heâs present in the tent before even you are, always barking orders with his hands clasped behind his slightly hunched backâeven at the asscrack of dawn. His posture is hell, that manâs. But everything that he does makes you want to fear him, respect him, admire him.
Sometimes you wonder if he ever gets any rest. Or if he even needs rest at all.
And besides, who are you to spark up a conversation with him? He has no reason to give you his time, much less feel obligated to listen to you. The General likely hates you. You, with your mysterious past. You, who somehow weaseled your way into the heart of Solariaâs campground and become the most underqualified healer in the medical tents. At least, these are what you think he thinks of you.
You have no way of knowing the truth.
UnlessâŚ
Your lips have begun to crack under the pressure of your teeth. But you canât stop. Not when thereâs no other way to release your inner turmoils and stress. Chewing on your bottom lip, you peek into the main medical tentâwhere the most severe cases are shipped off toâexactly where the General spends a large chunk of his time. You have a rather rough idea of how the General rotates in the campground, and it makes it easier for you to track him down. If he isnât in battle, heâs healing in one of the many stationed medical tents. If heâs not healing, heâs leading officer meetings in the central tent, probably formulating battle plans and strategies for the next week. If heâs not holding officer meetings, heâs helping the soldiers train. If heâs not helping the soldiers train, heâs running errands, riding off to Elu every now and then on a silvery horse. To be frank, the General has quite the busy schedule. And come to think of it, youâve never actually seen this man eat⌠or sleep.
Youâre not sure how sustainable his way of living is, but you are sure that his diligence makes him an excellent leader.
âWhat in Soohtâs name are you doing?â
You whirl around at the ice-cold voice, the drapes of the tent falling down and obscuring your view insideânot that you need it anymore. You found the person youâre looking for outside.
âGeneral,â you say, standing up a little straighter and making sure youâre tilting up your chin in an aura of confidence and autonomy. He doesnât want people to bow in his presence and youâll respect thatâall the while making it seem like youâre not completely intimidated by this man.
âYes, I know Iâm the General of the Army.â His black eyes narrow. âWell? I asked you a question, soldier.â
Your mind scrambles to come up with an answer. âI was looking for you⌠sir,â you say, attempting to match his icy stare. âI wasnât sure if you heard. Iâm not a soldier anymore. Iâm a healer, now. An assistant one, at least.â
âOh?â His eyebrows raise, but itâs the only indication of surpriseâor of any emotion, really. âHowever, soldierâY/Nâwas it? Once a soldier in my army, always a soldier. An inauthentic platitude, yes, but we like to honor accomplishments in this place.â
It surprises you. Heâs acknowledging your past here in Solaria. And⌠he remembered your nameâafter all these weeks! Quite impressive for such a busy man.
âNow, pray tell, soldier, you were looking for me. Why?â
Oh no.
Heâd just expressed a sort of neutral alliance between the two of youâone where he recognized your past as his soldier and didnât call you out as a spyâbut youâre going to have to ruin it all because of your stupid revelation.
âI was just⌠I was thinking.â
âI would be concerned if you didnât, soldier. After all, you do have a brain to do just that.â
âButâBut it was⌠I mean,â you sigh. Gathering the last of your wits, you clear your throat and straighten your back. And with a newly found confidence, you say, loudly and clearly: âI wanted to propose, no, suggest a change, sir.â
The corners of his mouth twitch. âA change?â
The way he says itâamusedâmakes you want to deflate and shrink back into a corner. Will he not take you seriously? Are you even allowed to suggest a change to the General of the Army? But he makes an effort to be approachable to his soldiers, and the fact that heâs talking to you right now, proves it. Maybe itâs worth taking a leap of faith.
âYes, sir, a change. I was thinking, to maximize our efforts in the war, we begin to integrate other mediums in the soldiersâ training.â
âMeaning?â
âWe add air and earth mediums to the mix, sir. The water mediums can stay on the campgrounds for healing, but I think we can benefit from having soldiers train in more areas than just fire. If the Darlaeans are fighting inhumanely, we have to fight back, and I think the best way to do that is to control the terrain weâre on. Air changes the weather, earth changes the battleground. I think it would be the perfect way to stun the Darlaeans, at least for a little while.â You pause, catching your breath, carefully watching the Generalâs countenance. But his expression is emotionless, and you have no idea what heâs thinking, though you can guess. Despite his inner thoughts (definitely irritated at you), you try again. âIâve seen what happens in the medical tents, sir, and I think weâreâno, I fear weâre losing the war. If we just try to use what we have to better your armyâŚâ
The General scoffs.
You freeze.
âI appreciate your concern, but I know how to command my own army.â
âButââ
âYou donât remember being in battle, soldier. You canât possibly comprehend how face-paced, how blood-hungry everyone is. We use fire mediums for many reasonsâexpenses, efficiency and effectiveness. These are factors that the officers and I have discussed thousands of times and over. The world does not revolve around the medical tent, soldier.â
âBut using earth and air mediumsâthe Darlaeans wouldnât be prepared for it, sir,â you sayâpleadâthough hoping you donât sound too desperate. âBecause there are ways to extinguish fire. I know itâs always been like this. But we have to acknowledge⌠it has its limits andââ
âThatâs enough.â He pauses and an uncomfortable tension creeps into the air. His dark eyes seem to test you, not exactly angry but clearly vexed. Then, the General sighs. âThe nerve of you to offer something so bold and brash.â
His words stun you into silence, and his disappointed stare stills your heart. He doesnât have to say anything for you to know of his irritation. One more icy look is thrown your way and the General is pushing past you, entering the medical tent. You watch him disappear behind the fluttering curtains, your legs threatening to give out.
You shouldâve said something more. Given him statistics, catered to his emotions. Done something to get him to listen to you. You shouldâve been more persistent.
No.
Who are you to question the General? Heâs been in charge for who knows how long. And you? You donât remember anything before a circa ago.
So thatâs it, then.
Youâve humiliated yourself beyond comparison, and thereâs probably no going back from it. The General will always see you as some naĂŻve, young soldier who dared to question his orders.
For Soohtâs sake, youâve fucked up.
The General paces back and forth in his tent. As usual, his posture is indecent, back hunched and shoulders slouched. A deep frown etches itself on his forehead.
Who in Soohtâs name are you to suggest such an outlandish, untowardly pivotal change in his army?
Losing the war.
He scoffs. How dare you waltz in and suggest such a heinous, untrue thing?
There are ways to extinguish fire.
Well, there are just as many ways to block Darlaean spells.
Air changes the weather. Earth changes the battleground.
Will changing these seemingly infinitesimal factors really tilt the odds in favor of his nation?
But the soldiers have been composed of fire mediums for as long as he can recall.
âWhat in Soohtâs name are you doing, Yoongi???â
âLook, mama! I made a cactus fruit grow!â
Heâd been forbidden to go outside for a week after that, locked in his room, forced to practice his fire wielding. Itâs unproductive to connect with all four of the elementsâat least, thatâs what his mother and father told him a thousand times over.
âEarth will not save you in battle, son. Air will do nothing against the Darlaeanâs power. If you want to survive⌠if you want to bring glory to Solaria, you hone your fire wielding.â
And heâd listened.
But itâs not his fault he finds solace in nature. The warm, blazing flames of a hearth light a spark inside his heart, but so does the golden sand underneath his bare feet, the crisp breeze on a cold summer night, the sparkling oasis hidden between the undulating dunes of Aithne. Itâs not his fault that he connected with other elements. Nor is it his fault that the burden of the military tumbled onto his shoulders.
âOn these grounds, we fight with fire!â
Roars of cheering soldiers. Crowds of proud men and women.
He remembers it so clearly. Heâd been so young then. But even then, his eyes had always been narrowed with suspicion and his posture had been absolutely shitty.
âMake your way for the General, herself!â
âGuess what?â His brother had nudged his shoulder. âThatâs gonna be our sister, soon. You know, after Mother dies.â
Heâd been horrified.
âIf you hadnât spent all that time messing around with the other elements, you couldâve surpassed her in training.â
His brother had meant well. He was younger, after allâstill inexperienced but with a heart full of fervent ambition.
âI bet in a few years I can beat you.â Heâd said it with a grin on his face. âAnd, I bet Iâll grow taller, too. How about that, Brother?â
Heâd scowled, then. But thinking back now, the moment makes him smile. His brother had grown taller, all right, and he wouldnât shut up about it, either.
His brother had also been the General at one point.
The thought has him collapsing in his chair. The General massages his head, brows furrowing in deep contemplation. What was the point of these memories, anyway? They come back to haunt him when he needs them the least.
Maybe losing your memory gave you a gargantuan amount of audacity. Thereâs nothing to hold you back, after all. No past. No parents. No siblings.
He rests his closed fist on his desk, gazing at the stack of papers waiting to be filled out and filed. So much to do, so much to do. Can his army really afford a change right now?
As if to answer his question, a light breeze sweeps into his tent, ruffling his hair and playing with the ends of the papers. He sighs and stands.
The wind whispers its approval.
âGeneral! Thatâs fucking preposterous and you know it!â
There are murmurs of doubt that fill the tent of the 17 officers that command the Solarian Army.
The General holds up his hand. Silence.
âAir changes the weather. Earth changes the battleground. Itâs really that simple,â he tells his officers. Most of them have their mouths agape, eyes wide and fists shaking. âLieutenant Kang, I hope you can understand. The rest of you are dismissed.â
Murmurs fill the tent once more as all but one of his officers exit, all looking equally shaken and confused. Itâs not very often something changes in the Solarian military. Itâs also not very often that their General makes non-negotiable demands.
Lieutenant Kang stays, a deep frown settling between her thick brows. âYoongi, what in flaming hellâs gotten into you?â she asks the moment the tent is empty save for the two leaders of war. âThisâThis is so sudden! You didnât even think to tell me about this beforehand? You sprung this on me along with the rest of them! How could you think that using air and earth mediums in battle would be a good idea? Theyâre going to get killed out there. The air mediums I know wouldnât dare hurt a fly! And earth mediums! I should know, I am one! What am I going to do with it in battle? Throw sand at the Darlaeans and hope they start crying? Air and earth mediums donât have it in them, Yoongi. Weâre sending them to their graves. And think about it. Are we going to draft new soldiers now? Are we going to tell the people that we want air and earth mediums too? Thereâs going to be an uproar. And what about the cost of training new mediums? It just doesnât make sense. I know you didnât come up with this on your own, Yoongi. Youâre one of the most consistent people I know.â
Yoongi sighs.
âYouâre really going to follow through with this?â his lieutenant asks. âWeâve already lost so many livesâŚâ
âA soldier gave me the idea. Y/N,â he admits. âIt wasnât mine. But I figured once in a while, a little change is fine.â
âY/âY/N? Who?â his lieutenant says, her face contorting in confusion. âFor Sahnâs sake, never mind that. Listen, Yoongi, it doesnât matter. Youâre telling me that youâre going to use an unranked soldierâs idea under the false pretense that change always leads to better things?â
âYes.â
âYoongi, youâre fucking insane.â
âDoyun, insanityâs the only thing keeping me alive right now.â And itâs true. If he wasnât insane, he wouldâve given up, gotten killed in battle ages ago. He wouldâve caved in from the pressure and responsibility suddenly forced onto his shoulders. He survives because heâs insane. âY/N proposed a change and Iâm taking it. Who says air and earth canât be as effective as fire?â
âBecause they donât kill!â Doyun yells.
âThey wonât need to,â he replies. âAs Iâve said, air changes the weather, earth changes the battleground. Weâll use them as supporting soldiers. In fact, we wonât have to draft more Solarians, either. Youâre an earth medium yourself, arenât you? Many of our soldiers are connected to more than one element. Those who are well-acquainted with air and earth will serve as supporting soldiers in a low-stakes battle in the first and fifth sectors. A shift in surroundings will surely upset the Darlaeanâs momentum. It might give us a chance, Doyun.â
âYoongiâŚâ
âLead the earth mediums in the first sector, Doyun. Iâll lead the air mediums in the fifth.â
âIs that an order⌠General?â Yoongiâs lieutenant looks tiredâworn out from posing so many counterarguments along with leading so many battles. But an amused smile plays on her lips. He rarely ever orders her to do anything. He doesnât have to. Theyâre usually on the same page.
âIf it isnât an order, will you disregard it, Lieutenant?â
âNo,â she replies. âYouâve kept me alive this long. Iâll trust youâand that random soldier you decided to listen to.â
âGood.â He smiles. âThere isnât much time to train, but most of us have been wielding our elements for a majority of our lives. I think it might just work. Weâll figure out the logistics.â
Doyun shakes her head, carding her fingers through her pixie-cut hair. âIf this actually works, you can fucking promote that soldier in my place.â
Yoongi snorts. âI wouldnât give you up for the world, Lieutenant Kang.â
A win. An actual win. And a solid one, too. The word travels quicklyâeven before the victorious soldiers reach the campground.
âRemember that absurd idea the General decided to implement? Yeah, it fucking worked!â
âHow? The Darlaeans didnât wipe the air and earth mediums out???â
âBarely any casualties, I heard!â
âTheyâre first and fifth sector battles, though. We need to win bigger ones to tip the scale.â
âBut theyâre wins nevertheless. We havenât won in a magnitude like that in a long time, you know,â Namjoon speaks up. It silences the other gossiping healers and turns the heads of the others who hadnât been paying attention before. âItâs a victory worth celebrating!â Your friend pumps his fist in the air and others follow suit. Soon, the whole medical tent is cheering, and injured soldiers finally look to the ceiling with happy tears and hope brimming in their eyes.
âAw, I wish they let me fight in those battles,â your patient sulks, crossing her arms over her chest. âIâm a great air medium! Just because of this stupid head injury, theyâre not even letting me train!â
Sheâs the pumpkin porridge soldier. The one who had so kindly offered you dinner and her bubbling company. It had been a few days ago when she was marched into this tent (against her will). Sheâd met your gaze immediately (recognized you just as quickly) and demanded that you be her healer. No one denied her.
âHana, your injury could get worse from rigorous physical activity,â you remind her, sniffling to stop your runny nose. âItâs a good thing that you didnât go.â You hand her a cup of Incha. âYou should drink up. The faster you heal, the faster you can get back to training.â
The woman snorts. Then, to your surprise, she pushes the cup towards you. âTo be honest, Y/N, you sound a lot sicker than I do. Sore throat, runny noseâŚâ she trails off. âMaybe you should drink the Incha.â
âNot while Iâm on duty!â you laugh. âThis is for you, not me.â
âOh, really?â Hana raises a challenging brow.
A light-hearted argument follows. One in which Namjoon somehow gets involved, sees your sick state and orders you to go back to your tent.
âI told you so!â Hana yells as you shake your head, trudging out of the medical tent with a hand on your hot forehead. âIâm gonna get better than you first and bring you some pumpkin porridge!â
You smile.
Hana had forced a cup of Incha tea in your hands and wrapped one of her blankets around you. The taken cared for becomes the carer. How the tables have turned. Namjoon had assessed your temperature with his wielding and concluded that youâre to take a few days off from the medical tent. Whatever cold you have might worsen the conditions of the injured.
So, against your will, youâre kicked out of the medical tent.
The autumn breeze is chilly, and when you breathe out, you can see the silvery wisps of your breath clouding up from your lips. You shiver, wrapping the blanket tighter around your frame with one hand, while keeping the warm cup close to your chest.
A solid win.
All thanks to your idea! Despite his icy looks and sharp words, the General had taken your suggestion to account. It warms you a little to think of the impact youâve made in the Solarian Armyâall without having to fight, too. The Generalâs bound to remember you now.
You can finally be at peace.
âRetiring for the evening?â
You jump at the familiar, soft voice. It comes from in front of you, and when you look up, you see him, the General, right in your path. He looks absolutely regal. But then again, when does he not? His black hair is tousledâa combination of mud and dirt. His uniform is torn at the edges, and thereâs a hint of blood across a shallow laceration on his upper arm. These are all the remnants of a battle. Itâs his black eyes, however, that make him look so imperial. They narrow as he looks over your face, lingering near your red nose and pausing where your hands conjoin around your cup of Incha.
The General raises his eyebrows. âYou look sick.â
âSo Iâve been told,â you say with a shrug. âI feel fine, but Iâm being sent back to my tent.â
âWell, I wonât stop you from getting proper rest,â he says, hands resting behind his back. He cocks his head slightly, and now, he has this look on his face that you canât quite discern. It looks like a smileâat leastâyou hope heâs smiling. But itâs mixed with curiosity, a little bit of admiration and⌠disbelief?
âAm I⌠Am I dismissed?â You have to ask. The two of you had been having quite the staring contestâwith you trying to understand his expression and him lost in thought.
The General smiles. And this time, itâs genuine and itâs happy. âI donât know how you did it, soldier.â He shakes his head. There it is again. The disbelief. But it relieves you to know that itâs the good kind. âYour brilliant idea led us to victory. A small victory, yes, but a victory nevertheless.â His onyx eyes glint in the afternoon sunlight. âEvery single one of my officers knows your name. I speak for all of them when I say we are grateful.â
âThen I guess youâre welcome.â You smile along with him. So, youâve finally made your mark around here. Suddenly, whoever you were before you lost your memories doesnât feel as important anymore. What could surpass this moment right now?
The General gives you a slight nod of acknowledgment before he begins to walk away without another word. You watch him go, eyes focusing on the back of his head and wondering if youâll ever have more encounters with this peculiar man. How can the General of the Army be so humble? You would think all that power would get to his head. But heâd listened to you. Youâre nothing in the vast, talented Solarian Army; yet, heâd given you a chance.
You take a sip of your Incha, the warm, bitter liquid slipping down your throat and pooling in your belly. It doesnât taste very good, but the feeling it elicits is enough to keep drinking. Your eyes wander to stare at the sun, still high in the sky, but the clouds have settled in and muted the bright light. Itâs going to get cold again.
Maybe you should have asked Joon for some matches. The oil lamp in your tent has gone cold due to disuse, and you often wonder how warm youâd be if you could remember how to spark a flame from your fingertips. Chewing on your lip, you contemplate walking back to the medical tent. Except⌠what if there is someone more in need of an extra bundle of matches?
Youâre barely a healer, much less a soldier. And this is war. There are limited supplies. If they never provided you with matches, it might just mean that there arenât enough to go around. You nod resolutely. Youâll just have to deal with it. You have this cup of Incha, anyways, and another blanket wrapped around you. Itâs more than enough.
âSoldier!â
Your head whips around at the sound. There, jogging towards you, is a soldier who looks vaguely familiar. Her sharp jaw, almond-shaped eyes and characteristic nose beg for a spark in your memory. Your heart leaps in your chest. Is she someone from your past? Someone you know from before?
âY/N, right?â
Your heart falls. And once you get a better look at this soldier who had stopped straight in front of you, you notice the two notches on her uniform. Your eyes widen as you immediately drop to a bow. âYes, sir. I am.â
âPleased to meet you,â she grins, jutting out her hand. Tentatively, you reach out to shake it. âIâm Lieutenant Kang, the Generalâs right-hand-soldier, if I do say so myself.â
The Lieutenant??? Why is she talking to you? To congratulate you? To chastise you for going over her head and talking to the General?
âItâs an honor, Lieutenant,â you manage to say in your choked, slightly hoarse voice. Does she enforce respect? Or is she as laidback as the General? You hope your bow was sufficient enough to show your regard.
âOh, no, the honor is all mine,â the Lieutenant laughs. âListen, you did well, soldier. Iâm sorry to say that I misjudged you initially. I was overwhelmingly against your idea, but look how it turned out.â
Your jaw falls open when the Lieutenant drops into a deep bow. âYou have my respect, Y/N.â
âL-Lieutenant!â
âPlease, call me Doyun.â
You didnât think itâd be possible for your jaw to hang any lower.
âIf Yoongi listened to me and I kept my word, you wouldâve been promoted to my position,â she says with an amused smile on her face. âYou have no idea how long weâve been waiting for a win. Turns out, waiting wasnât the answer. Doing something, was.â
Yoongi⌠Is that the Generalâs name? Yoongi. Why are you repeating it in your head?
Either way, this, this is the feeling of redemption, and it makes you want to soar in the sky.
âLosing your memories must have put a toll on you,â she says. âBut thank you for not giving up. And thank you for somehow getting into Yoongiâs head. Heâs stubborn as a mule, which isnât as stubborn enough as I am, but itâs pretty close. I really donât know how you did it, Y/N. To think that my earth wielding could come into use on a battlefield! You have my respect, soldier. Iâve been proven wrong by you, and Iâm rarely ever wrong.â
So this is why others call this the land of nature and nurtured. Harmony, kindness and unity are emphasized even in a place as orderly as the army. The General and Lieutenant personally thanking a soldier for offering a small idea that just happened to work? You canât imagine the ruthless Darlaeans doing that in their army. For Soohtâs sake, they sear off the limbs of enemy soldiers with no mercy or remorse. It makes you realize youâre in the right place. Youâre in the place that will allow you to pursue your ambitions.
And who knows? Maybe youâll be able to reconnect with your elements now. Maybe youâll get that second notch on your uniform. Maybe, one day, youâll work alongside the General and the Lieutenant. And maybe, youâll be calling the General by his first name, too.
Still dazed from the encounters with your superiors, you stumble into your tent, eyes glossy and mouth set to a permanent smile.
But thatâs when you see it:
An ample bundle of matches bound together with a dried, brown root.
A warmth ignites inside of you, glowing in your chest and spreading out to other areas of your body.
The General.
No, it could have been anyone. Joon, Hana (though less feasible), the Lieutenant, maybe. But she hadnât known you were sick, and she walked away from you. The General had known. Heâd seen you. And when he had walked away, heâd walked in the direction of your tent.
You pick up the matches, quickly plucking one from the group and striking it against your cup. It lights immediately and emits the prettiest, amber flame youâve ever seen. It almost makes you feel like you made it yourself.
The General did it.
Or maybe thatâs just what you want to think. Your fantasies do get ahead of you, after all.
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⨰ a/n: hana and doyun have stolen my heart LMAO. the next chapter is also juicy! đ i hope 2022 has been treating you well so far <3 stay healthy and safe out there! :)
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⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nationâotherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.
⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15
⨰ warnings: profanity, mentions of blood and (one) brief mention of vomit, (very) minor character deaths, injuries (broken ribs & open wounds/stitches)
⨰ wordcount: 7.5k
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⨰ a/n: thank you to the lovely @the-berry-named-ari for taking the time to beta-read!! i appreciate you!
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â§â§Circa Sapphâ§â§
Red. You see red. Itâs the first thing you see when your eyes peel open slowlyâas if theyâve been sealed shut for hundreds of years. Red. Labored breaths escape your quivering lips, your heart beating frantically in your chest. Red. It ripples in your vision, hues deepening in colorâalmost sinisterly, almost like itâs mocking you. Red. It swallows your sight, strangles your throat, swamps your senses. Red. Like blood.
Suddenly you donât think you can breathe.
You gasp, sitting up, your fingers ghosting around your neck. Immediately, a sharp abdominal pain pervades your entire body, cutting through your insides. Tears begin to prick your vision. It hurts. Something feels broken, and a newfound throbbing finds its way into your head. You wince, biting your lip to muffle a scream. Then, you freeze.
Red. It encompasses your vision again.
The air is hot and heavy, carrying the weight of death in its feeble arms. There are immobilized soldiers bundled up in white bandages seeping with crimson blood, desperate soldiers who are wailing, pointing up to the billowing red canopy of the tent and cursing or prayingâyou canât tell which; and there are many soldiers who have ceased all sort of movement. You catch glimpses of their stone-cold eyes before someone drapes a white blanket over their still-warm corpses. Blood stains the dirt in ugly blots of color. And you watch, frozen, as men and women in scarlet uniforms cry for their families, their friends, their lovers.
Your fingers tangle around a chain around your neck, and it takes a lot longer for you to notice that it is not a restraining cuff but a dainty necklace with a pendant hanging from the middle. A diamond. The white jewel sparkles against your soot-covered skin, twinkling despite the blood and the gore. Something about it brings you infinitesimal comfort but itâs comfort nevertheless.
When you finally look down at your own body, you see a frail figureâbruised and batteredâbut in a much better state than the others. Your bandages have been freshly changed, and though youâre in pain, you feel fully cognizant enough to think: what the hell happened? How long have you been here? Where the hell are you? Asking questions is at least a step in the right direction. You stare at the red fabric of your uniform, head whirling with thousands and thousands of different theories and ideas. But in the end, the thoughts diverge to one critical conclusion: you are a soldier.
A soldier. You must be fighting for something, then. Whether it may be your honor, your nation or your loved ones, you must be a soldier for somethingâs sake. But itâs quite laughable. Fighting for a nation you canât even recall. Even worse, your enemyâs face is a blank slate in your mind. How can you fight against people you donât know at all? How can you let their blood spill on your hands when you canât remember how theyâve wronged you and your nation? Or are you getting too ahead of yourself? What if none of your thoughts are true? How can you be sure of anything?âyou canâtânot when you canât even recall a single name other than yours.
But the more you try to desperately sift through your memories, the more you realize that you have none. Your head begins to throb again, and you clutch your necklace for moral support, hanging onto it as if it were your lifeline (and youâll treat it that way until you figure out what the hell is going on). It doesnât make sense. How are you a stranger in your own body?
âYour name, dear soldier?â
The deep, dulcet voice startles you nonetheless, making you shift in your cotâyour body retaliates in stinging pain and you grunt, hands pressing immediately against your side.
âOh dear, youâve got a couple of broken ribs, so try not to press too hard on your abdomen, all right?â the voice speaks again. But this time, you catch the face of the owner: a kind-looking middle-aged man with a gentle smile on his lips. He dons a loose, taupe-colored uniform, the cotton fabric falling down over his knees and grazing his shins. His sleeves have been rolled up to battle the insufferable heat of the tent, and beads of sweat have collected on his forehead, which he quickly wipes away with the back of his surprisingly soft-looking hands. He then folds his hands delicately over each other and gazes at you with an amiable yet inquisitive look on his face. As if heâs waiting for you to reply to something heâd said.
Oh. Embarrassment washes over you when you realize he had asked you a question. Your name, dear soldier? heâd said. Huh. So you are a soldier. And after little thought, you realize you do remember something. Your hands drop from your side.
âY/N.â It falls from your lips easilyâalmost too easily. âI think thatâs my name.â If the man knew you before, he doesnât make it obvious; instead, he gives you another soft smile and introduces himself.
âWell, Y/N, itâs very nice to meet you,â he says. âYou were unconscious for five days so Iâm happy to see youâve finally woken up. I was getting worried that you might never⌠Never mind that.â He smiles again, revealing a pair of pretty imprints in his cheeks. âYou know, your case was a miracle! The spirits mustâve wanted you alive.â He laughs a little at his own joke. âYou were found unconscious on enemy territory with major injuries, but it looks like they spared your life. They never tend to do that. â He trails off, his smile wavering a bit before he turns his attention back to you. âSo, how are you feeling?â
How are you feeling? If only words could describe the panic, the confusion in your mind. How did you survive? Who is this enemy that supposedly spared your life? Why canât you remember anything?
âI⌠donât know.â
âOh, thatâs all right,â the man says with good nature. âYouâre in great shape. Your injuries are healing quite nicely. In factââ
âNo, no itâs not that,â you say, shaking your head slowly. âI⌠I donât know anything. I canât remember a single thing from my past.â
The manâs smile flatlines. âOh dear,â he says. âThe concussion must have been worse than I thought.â He looks grim for a few moments as if to mourn the loss of his own memories and not yoursâan empathetic man in an unsympathetic place. But he seems to grab a hold on himself because, in a few seconds, his grim look is replaced with a bright smile and a reassuring nod. âDonât worry, though. Most soldiers want to forget. Here.â
Your eyes widen when you see a spherical bubble of water levitating just above his palm. Itâs such a perfect little shape, and the man seems to be entirely in control of it. âYouâre so dehydrated that I can feel it without my wielding,â he laughs, jutting out his hand.
Everythingâs so fast-paced.
While you were asleep, everyone must have collectively run two laps around the whole nation, learned new things, fought new battles and developed a new sort of jargon impossible for you to discern.
Youâre still trying to process what he said before. Most soldiers want to forget. You assume most soldiers would want to forget the contents of the battles, but you doubt they would want to forget about their husbands and wives, their children, their friends and their partners. You doubt they would want to forget the core memories that make up who they really are. The memories that provide them a reason to live when theyâre trapped in this stuffy tent, where all they can see and smell is blood. Most soldiers want to forget. But you want to remember. Because without your memories, dammit, you know yourself as much as the person on the cot next to you.
Who even are you?
But to hell with that train of thought because now youâre processing newer informationâinformation that puzzles you even more. âWielding?â
âOh dear,â the man says. âHere, take the water drop and Iâll explain.â
Take it? It wonât splash in your face the moment he lets go of it? Thereâs something especially spellbinding about this. A phenomenon you canât quite explain. The man watches as you daintily pick up the bite-size bubble, and you stare curiously at it as if you donât know what to do with it. It feels smooth, malleable and cool to the touch. The water reflects the little light in the tent, shining pastel rainbows on the palm of your hand. For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you poked it. Mess up its beautiful equilibrium. Would it splatter and lose its magnificent shine? Lose its form as a perfect sphere, lose its shape and memory?
You donât ever want to ruin something as beautiful as that.
âPop it in your mouth,â the healer says. âI enhanced it with some minerals that you might need. But you know, when I checked your blood four days ago, youâre actually exceedingly healthier than the average soldier. Sufficient levels in everything except vitamin D.â
Good to know, at least. Though a soldier missing their vitamin D sounds a little preposterous. But youâre sad to see the bubble go, wishing you could hold it in your hands just a small while longer. Yet your thirst wins over your childish desire. You do as your healer says, carefully slipping the water drop in your mouth to satiate your dry throat. Gingerly, you bite down on it, only for the water to burst on your tongue. It tastes like nothing, but the chilled liquid sweetens the inside of your mouth. The droplets soothe your palate and wash down your throat in seconds, leaving you feeling empty yet not so parched anymore. You chase after the feeling, hand crawling up to grasp the necklace resting by your neck.
âYou donât happen to remember your last name, do you?â the man asks. âI can ask one of the officers to check the records and see which sector youâre from. Maybe then we can figure out if you worked with other elements besides fire. You know, since all of our soldiers are fire mediums.â
âNo, I donât remember.â You didnât even know you could wield fire. You didnât know anyone could possibly wield the elements. But here this man is, a water âmedium,â claiming that youâre a fire medium. With this little knowledge, how could he possibly expect you to remember your surname? Youâre still trying to process the fact that you can wield fire in the first place.
Fire. The word echoes in your head, over and over again. And for a moment, you swear you can feel the heat. You suppose itâs warm. Tender flames and ambient lights, a cozy spark in the cold of the night, a cardinal red glow accompanied by flickers of yellow and orange⌠Yes. You must be connected to fire in some way. The warmth swells inside you, consoles you, solaces your mind.
But then, your thoughts begin to wander. You begin to wonder what being a fire medium entailed: if you could conjure up bonfires with a flick of your hand, if you could boil water just by holding a container, if you could walk barefoot on hot coals with flames settled in your eyes. Did you cook using your own fires? Could you even cook? Have you ever accidentally burned someone else you didnât mean to? But one thought leads to another, and naturally, you begin to wonder how you used fire to fight.
Your gut coils.
You glance at your palms, turning them over and scrutinizing them. As pretty as fire can be, you realize it is just as destructive. How many people have you burned with these very hands? How many have you scorched to death? How many have you killed?
Your blood runs cold.
âUmâŚâ Your healer clears his throat, breaking you from your spiraling thoughts. âI just, uh, I wanted to let you know, thoughâŚâ His face contorts. âThereâs a chance you might have lost your connection with fire⌠If you didnât even remember that you were a fire medium, then the chances are⌠I mean, you can always relearn butâŚâ he trails off. âMemory loss tends to cut off the connection. Itâs usually temporary.â
Usually. Something inside you breaks. Fire had been a part of your identity, and you thought you knew it. You swore youâd felt it within you.
âIâm sorry.â
Your face visibly falls. What does this mean? Are they going to kick you out of the tent as soon as you heal? Are you exempt from fighting in the war now? Or are they going to force you to mend your connections with your element?
âIâm sorry,â he says again as he watches your face distort. âI feel like Iâm not explaining anything. Youâre confused, huh? You know what?â A pause. âIâll start from the beginning then. Um, how to start, how to start⌠Well, you see, the spirits shared the elements with us a long, long time ago: fire, water, earth and air,â he explains slowly. âDo the others happen to ring a bell?â
Another shake of your head.
âOh no worries,â he says quickly, trying to assure you. âWell, dear, weâre in Solaria. Others call us the land of nature and nurtured, and it makes a lot of sense since we all work with one or more of the elements. I donât really see ourselves as magicians, though, but other nations do. At least thatâs what they thought the last time we opened up our trade. Circas and circas ago.â He shrugs. âWeâre just mediums. Vessels that the elements use so we can be in close harmony with nature.â
Vessels. Harmony. Nature. You try to digest his every word, try to reach in the back of your head to see if any of it is familiar.
It isnât. But you try your best to catch up on the things youâve lost. âSo youâre a water medium.â
âMost healers are,â he says. âBut I dabble in earth too. Actually, I picked it up from living in Elu, and it comes in pretty handy whenever.â
Before you can even ask what or where Elu is, your healer moves on, pointing at the necklace youâve been nervously twisting the whole time. âOh my, what a pretty necklace!â
You nod in agreement, feeling the edges of the gem with the pads of your fingers. âOh, thank you.â Your eyebrows twist. âI canât remember where I got it, but it feels important. I think⌠Iâm not sure, but I think someone important gave it to me.â Itâs a slow, steady gut feeling. And at that moment, you can almost feel the warm fingers of another dancing behind your neck, clasping your necklace for you. But itâs probably just your imagination.
âMaybe a significant other?â he suggests.
You really wish you could say those words triggered some sort of memory hidden deep within you, but it doesnât. âIt could be.â
âThen why donât we put your necklace in this case and hide it away under your cot?â he says, figuring a dirt-made container with the flick of his hand. You watch in awe as delicate leaf engravings crawl up the hardening case. With a flourish of shimmery mist, a perfectly circular knob configures itself on top of the lid. Soft brown and deceivingly smooth-looking like silk, the box rests against his palm, waiting patiently to encase your necklace. âSomething as precious as that? You might lose it around here, dear.â
He helps you unclasp the chain from your neck, and you watch the shimmery jewel become enclosed in the pretty, engraved case. The moment the last of the golden chain leaves your fingertips, you feel a chilled cold wash over your body. It has nothing to do with the pain in your abdomen, and itâs not necessarily painfulâjust an unpleasant feeling. The moment the necklace is out of view, you begin to regret taking it off. Why do you feel so heavy without it? So⌠empty? Lost, even.
The necklace was a sign from your pastâthe present that would lead you back to your past. Whoever gave it to youâif someone gave it to you at allâwould want to see it around your neck the next time you meet them. What if they canât identify you without it? What if this necklace was a part of your identity? But thatâs not a question of âwhat if.â Because really, this necklace is the only clue connecting back to your past. No one is born with a sparkling diamond necklace around their neck. So where the hell did you get yours? What does it mean?âif it even means anything at all? Should you keep it on you at all times to help jog your memory? Should you refuse to hide it away?
No.
No, your healerâs right. Solaria is in a gruesome war. Itâs best to hide your important belongings away, where there will be no chance of you losing them.
âAh, young love,â your healer sighs. âItâs a pity weâre in a devastating war. For over a hundred years, I tell you. Theyâll come back for you, though. Your lover. Theyâll search for you until they finally find you again. Iâd do that for my partner too. You know, I actually gave him a necklaceâkind of like yoursâexcept it was made of green jade. Spent 50 solarins on it, too. You know, Iâve never seen such a pure white gem like yours. It must be very rare.â He offers you another kind smile. âMy husbandâs waiting back in Elu, fixing up his little tea shop with our two cats.â
Your healer is quite talkative, and you bless him for that; the silence reminds you of your pain, but with Namjoonâhe finally slipped in his name after an hour of talkingâconstantly filling up the quiet spaces, youâre kept well-distracted. You learn that he lived in the capital sector Elu until the soldiers came and asked for volunteers to work in the medical tents. He parted with his husband and his two precious kittens to make a living from the never-ending war. As he put it, âto heal so soldiers can, unfortunately, fight again.â The pay is good, and he sends what he can back home. âWe want to move out of the city and back to where weâre both fromâAra. Weâre trying to save up for it. And maybe when this war is finally over, weâll be able to do it.â So he went headfirst into the medical tent, with no prior medical experience and just as little knowledge of the enemies.
âTheyâre magic folk too,â he says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. âDarlaeans, from Darlae. We call it the Forgotten Kingdom. But supposedly their magic is older than ours, which is strange because youâd think working with the elements is as ancient as you can get.â
With Joonâhe insists you call him thatâon a generous three-hour break after pulling two twenty-hour shifts to treat the soldiers who came in after a particularly violent battle, he fills you in on as many things as he possibly can. You insist that he gets some rest, but as your healer, youâre only obligated to listen to him and not the other way around.
âIâve been waiting and tending for you for five days, Y/N. Iâd rather get to know you,â he keeps saying. Though thereâs really not a lot about you to know. Namjoon seems to know that too, deep inside. So he tells you stories of his past. Whether itâs about the bubbling brooks and frozen lakes he grew up with in Ara or the warm, bustling capital sector of Elu, he always has something to say, something to paint a picture in your mind. Slowly, you feel less and less empty. Like his stories are your own and youâre taking them away to store forever.
âWe have other sectors too, but I just think you canât compare them to Ara. You know, during the wintertime, it gets so cold that you can see the frost that gathers at the tips of the plants. You should see the colorsâlilac and pale blue and itâs justâŚâ he sighs. âItâs beautiful.
âI miss it,â he admits. âBut working here isnât too bad, either.â
It seems as though things have calmed down in the medical tent. The brunt of the pain and death has passed, leaving the healers to catch their breaths and the soldiers in their cots to rest and wait for their bodies to recuperate. The air is heavy with sweat and musk but not so much with death anymore. Or youâve just grown accustomed to it.
The red drapings of the tent donât bother you as much. It had felt foreign at first, but now you realize this is the color youâve probably seen countless times as a Solarian soldier. It is a color that proves you are alive. That every time you open your eyes, youâre still in this world getting treated on your cot and not wandering off to the unknown. The high ceiling of the tent gives you something to stare at, something to exercise your mind and keep you occupied. Outside, the wind caresses the red curtains, letting them flow gentlyâlike a stream of blood.
But it isnât too bad. It could be much worse.
âThere are busier hours, you know, mostly right after one of the bigger battles led by our General. But itâs not too bad right now,â Namjoon says. âI like talking to the soldiers a lot. You learn so much about Solaria and the different sectors that make up our nation. Once you start asking, soldiers never really stop talking about their homesectors. I mean, our homesectors are our roots. Itâs just like how Iâm proud to be from Ara, you know? Itâs really nice to hear that so many of us have something to fight for.â
He probably didnât mean to, but his words deflate you. Something to fight for⌠Yet you canât remember why you volunteered to fight for Solaria. Maybe you promised a lover back home. Maybe you promised a dying mother, a dead sibling. Or you wanted a fresh start to your life; maybe you were naĂŻve and thought going to war would place meaning in your existence. Something to fight for.
Youâll have to fight for yourself. Fight to live, maybe. Fight for a nation you barely remember; fight against a nation you barely hate. When you canât remember anyone else who has impacted your life, arenât you the only one you can trust? But can you trust yourself when you donât even know who you are?
Namjoonâs eyes soften as he watches your face contort with thought. âItâs best not to remember,â he says softly. âI meant it when I said most soldiers want to forget.â
In a way, heâs right. Not remembering gives you a chance to rebrand yourself. Create a new you. It erases your traumasâif you had anyâdoes away with past pains and catastrophes and allows you to begin a new life. ButâŚ
âDo you know of any other soldiers who came back from the battlefield five days ago? Maybe I was friends with some of them. Maybe Iââ
You just want to know who you are. Is it so bad to be curious? The pain, the sufferingâyou donât care if itâll hurt you again. Because those experiences were what made you your own person. Without them, you might as well be a newborn baby trapped in an adultâs body.
âOh.â Namjoon interrupts, and for a moment, you think youâve pissed him off with your persistence. In reality, however, with his eyebrows twisted together and lips pressed into a thin line, he looks worried. âItâs hard to keep track of all the soldiers who come in and out of this tent,â he says. Heâs avoiding eye contact, but you donât relent, staring at the side of his face until he looks up, hesitantly. Your eyes meet, his soft brown ones connecting with your own wide, hopeful ones. He fidgets. âNot⌠not a lot of soldiers survived that battle,â he says. He fidgets again. âOh, for Sahnâs sake. It⌠it was a bloodbath. The Darlaeans were especially brutal that day. It was a miracle that you survivedâa mystery evenâand on enemy territory at that.â He looks up to gauge your crumbling expression, mirroring your forlorn look with his own countenance.
The last bit of hope within you melts away. What was the point of surviving when you donât even remember the reason that youâre fighting? What was the point of being brought back to life when youâll have to fight in a war you donât care about? You may have been a Solarian, but you have as much attachment to your nation as a fruit fly might have for a bear cub.
You take a breath.
But itâs not that bad. Itâs not.
You have your necklaceâsomehow the only evidence that you had some sort of a past. You have Namjoon, who seems friendly enough to help you get back on your feet. You have yourself. You were once lucky enough to be spared on the enemyâs territory; youâll wait for another serendipitous window to get your memories back. The hope is seeping back in.
Youâll take time for yourself, heal, fight if you have to. But your ultimate goal will always be to find out who you are.
Soon, Namjoon leaves your side to tend the other soldiers, and it leaves you by yourself. With your back propped up against the headboard of your cot, you survey the tent. Itâs calmed down quite a lot. Most soldiers are asleep now, their pains momentarily forgotten during their slumber. You watch the few soldiers who are awake. They look shaken, bloodshot eyes rapidly moving left and right as if an enemy soldier were going to ambush them at any minute. If you hadnât lost your memories, you might be one of them.
But youâre calm. In fact, thereâs no reason for you to panic. Not when you canât recall what you should even panic about. Instead, you ruminate about other things. Things that donât have to do with the war.
You long to step outside of this tent. You wonder what it looks like out there. Wonder what it feels like to smell something other than blood and sweat. Wonder what it feels like to wake up and not see red. Wonder if itâs beautiful out there, just like the way Namjoon described his homesector. Your eyes begin to flutter shut as your thoughts lull you to sleep.
Then, thereâs a jerk of the red curtains. You get a short glimpse of an azure sky, golden sunlight, verdant grass, shedding trees getting ready for full-blown autumn, and you inhale a whiff of fresh airâpine, a hint of something oakyâbut itâs all gone before you can react. Everything becomes hidden away by the drapes. Itâs all red again.
When you blink, you realize someone had walked inâno, stormedâinto the tent. A man. He has a slightly shorter-than-average stature with a surprisingly slumped posture, yet somehow, he radiates authority and strict business. Itâs just something about his eyesâhis charcoal pupils lost in the tenebrosity of his irisesâeyes squinted ever so slightly as his vision sweeps cynically across the tent. When he blinks, a trail of wet blood rolls down over his eyelid, but he makes no move to wipe it off. Instead, he clasps his hands behind his back, and the action makes his chest jut forward. The motion draws your attention to the middle of his uniform, where a circular golden emblem rests so proudly. Your eyes begin to drift down to the aureate cords that dangle out of a silky two-toned sash tightly knotted around his tapered waist. His uniform is smeared with what looks like a mixture of fresh blood and dirt, which implies heâd just come out of a battle, but it doesnât stop him from looking absolutely regal. For a moment, you wonder if he actually is royalty.
Whoever he is though, the atmosphere in the tent had shifted ever since he had walked in.
The barely conscious soldiers are now alert, gazing at the man with emotional looks on their tired faces. You recognize hope, admiration and faith. Even all of the healers had stopped what they were doing, bowing down with respect.
The man raises his eyebrows. âFor the love of Sahn, stand up,â he sighs. âThereâs no need to bow in my presence. Iâm not your king.â His voice is surprisingly quiet, his tone soft like silk but also low and melodious. Itâs not something you wouldâve expected from his demeanor. But the healers obey him immediately, straightening their backs, and though theyâre not bowed anymore, you can still see how much they respect this man. All sorts of murmurs, cries of pain have dwindled down to silence just to listen to his next words. He raises a hand. âWe have men and women out there who are severely injured. Make room for them. Clear out the cots, call extra healers on duty. We need everyone we can get. You have two minutes. Iâm warning you in advance.â He pauses for a second, eyes surveying everyone in the tent. For a moment, you think your eyes are going to meet, but just before they can, he turns swiftly and walks out of the tent.
âTwo minutes!â a healer yells.
âCan someone get me some water around here?â
âHelp me make some space, please!â
âFor Soohtâs sake, get the extra bandages!â
âDo you think it was a bad one?â
âIt must be. Generalâs bleeding.â
âI hope he lets us treat that.â
âYou know, he refuses any sort of treatment until the last soldierâs gotten treated.â
The last healer had been Namjoon. After listening to him talk for nearly three hours, youâd be surprised if you couldnât identify his voice. âThe last few battles have been pretty bad,â he says.
âIâm not sure how much more our soldiers can take,â a healer replies.
âIâm not sure how much more we can take,â another says. There are nods of agreement but no one answers verbally.
Itâs chaos after that.
The General with his jet black hair storms in again, carrying a passed-out soldier on each shoulder. A slew of others rush in after him, all lugging injured soldiers over their backs. It doesnât stop.
The General barks orders. Your eyes follow him everywhere as he makes his rounds around the tent, assisting the healers who call for help. Heâs the beacon of light for dying soldiers, and they request to see him in their last, declining breaths.
âThank you,â he tells them, clasping their handsâor whatâs left of them. âThank you so much.â He waits by their side until the lights dim from their eyes, until their head grows limp and their breaths cease.
Most of the time, though, heâs demanding.
âYou! You there, sheâs vomiting bloodâdo something!â
âWhat in Soohtâs name are you waiting for??? Someoneâs life is on the line!â
The smell of blood stings your nose again. But nothing breaks your focus on the Solarian General. As intimidating as he is, heâs got a fascinating auraâthe kind where you canât possibly look away. But maybe you should have minded your own business.
His sharp eyes meet yours.
The black dots of his pupils narrow, and the blood caked around his left eye makes him look more menacing than youâd like to see from your superior. Until you realize it isnât the blood that makes you feel uncomfortable. Itâs his deep glare.
Oh. Oh, shit. Heâs glaring at you.
Within seconds, he marches up by your cot, never breaking eye contact. He seems to be sizing you up, looking up and down at your disheveled figure. Itâs a little embarrassing. Both of you had fought in the war, but how does he retain his elegance and you cannot? How can he stare at you with so much contempt when youâve bled your own blood fighting for him?
With his thin lips drawn into a tight line, it hits you that he might just never strike a conversation. But then he opens his mouth and speaks a line you never expected to come out of his mouth.
âIâve never seen you before.â
His voice is quiet, and if you hadnât been staring straight at him, you wouldnât even have heard him. But he uses a dangerously soft voice. A voice that closely resembles a toxic viper warning his unfortunate victim before making a lethal strike.
I havenât seen you before either, you want to say. But your throat becomes dry as sandpaper, so you opt to stay silent, cocking your head and watching his expression shift from puzzlement to suspicion.
âG-General,â a healer stutters awkwardly, diffusing the taught tension that had roped your necks together. âS-Sirââ He points at the trail of blood running from over the Generalâs eye down to the collar of his scarlet uniform. The single droplet blends in with his fabric, disappearing under the seamsâthe only proof of its existence is the red line itâd left behind. âYouâre bleeding.â
âYes, I know that,â he replies curtly. âI assure you that Iâm fine. Her on the other handâŚâ His eyes narrow even more. âState your name, homesector and your mediums, soldier,â he barks.
Why hasnât he seen you before? Does he expect to remember all of his soldiers? Why is he singling you out?
âY/N, sir,â you say, swallowing a growing lump in your throat. âThatâs about all I know, though⌠sir.â
He scowls. âWhat in Soohtâs name do you mean, thatâs about all you know?â
âI lost my memories, sir.â
A pause.
âBullshit.â
âS-Sir?â Your eyes widen as the General leans in, searching your face for clues. He must think youâre hiding something. Heâs suspicious. But who does he think you are? And how can you answer when you donât even know?
He gives you no warning when his fingers grab the collar of your uniform, lifting you up from your seat. You wince in pain, eyes squeezing shut momentarily.
âYouâre lying,â he says. His voice is lower than before. âTell the truth now and I may allow mercy.â
âI-I donât understand.â
The General drops his hold on you, and you fall back on the cot, grimacing. On cue, two grim-faced soldiers show up behind himâhow the General called them over, you have no idea. âVery well,â he says. He doesnât turn away from you, but itâs obvious his next words are directed towards his two soldiers. âWeâre taking her to the interrogation room.â
Interrogation room? What have you done wrong? What are they going to do to you? Did you commit a crime and lose all your memories about it?
It feels like daggers are ripping through your insides as the soldiers drag you away from your cot. In fact, you swear you hear a rip at your sides. You feel it, too. Your eyes sting with tears, but your throat is so dry that itâs difficult to make any noise. Instead, you bite down on your tongue hardâso much so that you taste the iron. And just when you think youâre about to pass out from the tortuous pain, a familiar voice cries:
âS-Stop!â
The soldiers halt. Youâre given a momentâs rest. Your lips let out shivering breaths, your heart beating rapidly in your ears, your head whirling from the lack of oxygen.
âNamjoon,â the General says. âTry not to make a scene. Iâll be back quickly.â
âSir, sheâs in pain!â Namjoonâs jaw is slack, eyes wide open in horror. âSheâs hurt! Where are you taking her? She needs to rest!â
âSheâs a spy,â the General replies. âWe have to question her to see what she knows.â
âMe?â the word tumbles out of you before you can stop it. Your world seems to shatter. All this time, youâd built a fantasy that you were, indeed, a Solarian soldier. That this was your land, your nation that you were fighting for. It never occurred to you that you would be otherwise. But hell, even if you were a Darlaean spy, how the hell would you know?
âI remember every soldier who has graced their presence in my army. I know a fake when I see one,â the General says.
âBut sir, you ripped her stitches!â Namjoon exclaims, pointing at the blossoming red blood on the bandages around your stomach. Ah, that must be where your pain was coming from. âSir, I donât mean to object, but sheâs human before anything else.â
âThe Darlaeans donât treat us as humans, so why should we treat them as such?â
âWith all due respect, sir, she lost her memories.â
âAnd how do you know she isnât bluffing?â
âI justââ
âSir, I couldnât detect it,â the soldier who had held onto you says with an obscene amount of duty.
âDetect what?â Namjoon asks, visibly and audibly distressed.
âYou couldnât?â The General pauses for just a moment. You can almost see the calculations flying through his head. âDid you double-check?â he asks the other soldier. She nods. He whips around to glare at you. âThis one could be dangerous. Theyâve never done something like this before.â His stare deepens. âLost memories.â He scoffs. âFucking bullshit. I donât have time for this.â
âSir, if thereâs no evidence that sheâs a spy, then she must be innocent,â Namjoon pleads. âOh, dear, her stitchesâŚâ He tries to reach out for you but freezes when his General begins to speak.
âNamjoon, youâre too kind,â the General tells the healer. âThis is war. People would do anything to win. Darlaeans would do anything to win.â He looks at you with scrutiny again. âYouâre not a talker, are you? Perfect for flying under the radar. I donât think youâre faking the pain, though. Self-inflicted, perhapsâŚâ he trails off, eyebrows furrowing as he thinks. Then, his charcoal eyes scan your ownâmeticulouslyâas if your eyes hold the key to all of your deepest, darkest secrets. It feels like some twisted staring contest; one wrong move and youâll be sentenced to doom. But while your eyes begin to water, the Generalâs remain dark and focused. You try to occupy yourself with something elseâanything else to keep you from blinking. In your head, you trace the curve of his lash line, delineate the sharp curve of his inner corner, count his long lashes, feel lost in the swirling black pools of his pupils⌠The insides of your mouth suddenly become very dry.
Finally, finally, though, the General blinks and steps back, clearing his throat. Did he see something that you missed? Something that tells him that he can trust you momentarily? âKeep an eye out on her.â His two soldiers nod resolutely. âIf she really did lose her memories, weâll proceed with the necessary actions once she gets them back.â
You donât know what to say. Or do for that matter. But you feel like you need to say something. Something to alleviate the tension. Something to prove that youâre innocent. âIâm⌠Iâm sorry,â you say. âI didnât mean to raise suspicion.â You mean it. Thereâs a part of you that wants to scream how unfair it was for the General to cause you so much painâjust because he couldnât remember your face. But another part of you understands him. Itâs a war. People cheat, lie and trick. Heâs just looking out for his own soldiersâthatâs his job as the General. Heâd rather be safe than sorry.
The General raises his eyebrows at your words. Youâre not sure if you imagined it, but you think his hard eyes soften ever so slightly. And for a moment, heâs silent, as if heâs fighting between accepting your apology or rejecting it. He does the latter, however. âAn apology wonât help anything.â A pause. He clears his throat. âHowever, I do apologize.â Your eyes widen. âYouâll have to bandage her up again, Namjoon. I know how busy you are, and Iâll trust your perception of her for the time being.â You deflate. Heâd apologized to your healer; the fact that you thought otherwise is somewhat humiliating.
He glares at you one more time, daring you to try anything. The General doesnât need to speak for you to feel threatened. His piercing gaze alone chills you to the core. âGet her back to her cot,â he orders his two soldiers before he turns and swiftly walks away. You stare at his backside, intrigued and a little frightened by his demeanor.
Namjoon lets out a deep sigh once youâre comfortably situated on your cot again, wounds cleaned and restitched. âIâm sorry you had to go through that,â he says. âHow are you feeling?â
And this time, you have an answer other than âI donât know.â
âJust a tad bit terrified.â
Namjoon snorts. âI meant physically, but emotionallyâs great too. Donât worry, though,â he says. âI know that the General can come off as an intimidating man. But heâs fair.â
Fair? He tried to march you offâopen stitches and allâto interrogate you with little to no evidence that you were in the wrong. Is that really being fair?
On second thought, however, heâd spared you a chance. The General didnât have to listen to Namjoon, but he did. He chose to heed the healerâs suggestion when he had the authority to do what he wanted to do. So you suppose he is fair. Or at least somewhat sympathetic.
âHeâs been overworking himself, you know? Heâs a medium for all four elements, so heâs got a lot of pressure to perform four times the number of tasks that others do. Plus, heâs the General. All eyes are on him,â Namjoon explains. âThough Iâm not exactly saying sacrificing your health for the sake of interrogation was a good call⌠But then again, I donât think heâs slept for three days, so we should maybe possibly excuse him if his judgment is skewed.â
âNo, no, I really donât have anything against the General,â you say. âI know where heâs coming from. It just⌠it bothers me that he didnât recognize me.â Did you really have that little of an impact in the army that the General who remembers everyone canât recall your face? It feels horrible to wake up, memoryless, and not have anyone claim that they know you. In fact, they canât even recognize youâas if you turned up in this camp overnight and didnât previously give up your life for your nation. What if you never meant anything to anyone around here?
âDonât take it personally.â Namjoon places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. âHe couldâve easily missed you in the crowd. Maybe he accidentally skipped over your papers. Heâs just tired and was being hyper-aware. Thatâs what fighting does to a person. Makes them suspicious of every little thing.â
ââŚYeah.â
âThe Generalâs very merciful to his soldiers,â Namjoon says. âBut he does take a while to warm up to people. I remember when I first met him, I thought he hated me. Heâd give me some particularly unwelcoming side-eyes, and I always thought Iâd get kicked out of here because of it. Turns out he tends to give everyone the side-eye. You know, he even privately told me that he likes that I can personally connect with the soldiers who I take care of.
âHeâs a good man, our General.â The healer looks proud, smiling wistfully. The memories keep him in a trance. For a moment, he looks lost in the depths of his past, eyes glossed over and lips parted ever so slightly.
A pang of jealousy resonates within you. Itâs a greedy feeling, tumbling out and reaching to grab at memories that arenât yours to keep. The feeling grows, gnarling inside of the pits of your stomach and threatening to burst out of your throat. Yet one look at the kind healer with his soft eyes and gentle smile and it dissipates.
âYeah⌠He must be.â
Joonâs memories are his to keep, and yours should come in time. One look at the kind man with his even kinder eyes makes you feel guilty that you ever felt jealous in the first place.
âWell, you should sleep, dear.â He smiles at you. âYour eyes are drooping.â
Heâs not wrong. A strange tiredness suddenly washes over youâa fatigue youâd been ignoring since the moment you woke up, really. The heaviness spreads through your aching body, up to your throbbing head. And the last thing you see before your eyes flutter shut is red.
But red is your home now.
⨰ series m.list | next
⨰ a/n: thank you for reading the very first chapter of legends of darlaria! lod has been a series i've been plotting since november 1st 2020, and to finally see it being posted... it really does feel like a dream come true. i hope you enjoyed it! (and what's to come,,,)
please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' initial impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!