#after season 2 everyone had something to do so they just swept the Night Dagger thing under the rug

[spiocean]

before lesson 11 has come out

Solomon: You really just gave him the grimoire....

MC: I invested it in trust that will reforge my pacts.

Solomon: Well... I think you can call it the way, yes. Though you could have done more.

MC: You know, I don't even need it to control them.

MC: ...And if the grimoire was your version of a knife under the pillow I recommend you to remember who you sleep with. :)

Solomon:

Solomon: I—

Thirteen: You two, get out of here!

[gingerpeachtae]

Concentric [Prologue]

masterlist

Words: 1.5k

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut (?)

Warnings: blood, violence, implied death

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: Hewwo everyone! So this is the very first piece of writing I am every posting! WOHOO! Please read and send any advice, suggestions, or what have you. The prologue does not contain any BTS members, but the first chapter will! (I am SO close to being done with it! So I will do my best to post ASAP) PLS ENGOY :) *revamped/edited on 2/26/20

Winter is a delicate season. Intricate snowflakes, gentle snowfalls, and a good-natured chill to the air. This winter was different, though. This winter was not delicate, gentle, or good-natured. No, this winter was nothing like that. It was barren, savage, deadly. Snow so cold it stung, attacking like sharp needles wherever it found a chink in the armor of winter gear. Wind so violent it shook the world as it screeched and groaned past the skeletal trees. Landscape so blank it became an endless and untouched canvas of black and white. Brutal. Vicious. Unforgiving. A spiteful side of Opitax that had never previously revealed itself.

Amarok had never seen anything like it in his entire existence. He had seen many seasons pass, and although there were times the hunt became quite difficult, there was always game if one truly knew how to look. Truly knew how to see the world. The craft of finding the wild thrumming of energy within even the faintest of tracks. The hunter was innately grateful to have this knowledge during the past few weeks as this season had proven to be a challenge, and while it had not been his best hunt, he was not trudging back empty-handed either.

Amarok was eager to be home, to be in the warmth of his wooden cabin and love of his wife and daughter.  He smiled behind his face mask at the thought of seeing his little one excitedly shouting for him at his return and running to be swept up in his arms. Fond memories of hoisting her atop his shoulders as his wife laughed from the doorway caused him to release a chuckle that barely reached his ears over the rampaging wind. Although he anticipated stepping foot into the small clearing that contained his home, he prayed what he brought back would be enough to last his family the rest of this harsh season.

Stumbling as he crested a hill, the hunter peered through the obscuring white and saw the smoke from his cabin. From where his family was waiting for him. Yet, as he neared closer, the smoke became thick and dense. It was more than what should be puffing out of the chimney. Much more. It was intermingling with the white snow, dancing and curling with the wind. Clogging his lungs. He did not smell the familiar sweetness of gojcha nuts roasting above the fire, as they usually did at his return. Nor did he hear his wife’s lullaby voice drifting through the air or his daughter’s innocent giggles echoing off the thousands of trees.

Instead, he caught the unmistakable and repulsive scent of burnt flesh and dying embers.

Heart dropping, Amarok darted forward toward his home, dropping his kills as he ran. The carcasses of rabbits, fox, and coon left behind like a breadcrumb trail of bloody meat. Without the heavy load burdening him, the hunter reached the opening of land where his cabin stood within mere minutes.

Where his cabin had stood.

Choking as the black smoke invaded his lungs and further blocked his vision, Amarok tripped over a clump of smoldering rubble. The world turned to black and white and nothing in between as the hunter gripped his head in strain and confusion. As he was about to start calling for his wife and daughter, he heard a shrill cry. Hope erupted in his chest as he made haste toward the scream, failing to realize the tone was not that of a female or child.

Following the still-present screams, Amarok quickly found an unknown male covered in soot and torn clothing, cowering among the trees. The confused and worried hunter yanked the stranger upright by his disintegrating shirt and pinned him against the nearest trunk.

“What happened!?” Amarok panicked, his breathing becoming unstable. “Where’s my family!?”

The stranger’s screams faded into blubbering, unable to properly utter a word. “I-I was lost and b-bleeding and she…”

“Gods dammit!” Amarok punched the bark beside the stranger’s head, causing him to yelp. “What happened!?”

“Sh-She offered to let me stay the night. But w-wolves must have caught scent of my blood and they came.”

“No.” Amarok let go of the stranger and slowly backed away, shaking his head and closing his eyes in disbelief as the stranger’s words settled over him.

He knew that predators got bolder when the food supply waned, especially wolf packs. He’d heard stories of them attacking hunters when they ventured too far into the darkness of Opitax’s shadow. But he had never heard of them attacking a cabin.

It was a savage winter indeed.

���They came w-when the little girl was still outside…”

Returning his gaze to the male, Amarok could see he had crumbled to the ground and was desperately clutching the base of the tree.

Gritting his teeth, Amarok stormed back up to the male and grabbed his shivering form to wrench him upright once more.

Tightening his grip on the cowering stranger, the hunter was torn between wanting to physically squeeze the story out of the male’s body and wanting to bring him to permanent silence.

“What in Illai’s name happened?”

“They got the little girl b-before we even realized they were here, then she tried fighting them off with a t-torch, but they got her too. I ran and climbed up a tree to get on the roof before they got me next. They left not too long after that.”

“No. No. No! NO!” Amarok repeated the word over and over and over until his voice grew hoarse, the coward of a man whimpering with each of the anguished wails.

Amarok thought of his sweet Omara, his delicate Sawna. He gagged on a sob that escaped to freedom beyond his lips. He should have been here to protect them. To save them.

His hands dropped away from the stranger’s body and began to tremble.

“The torch dropped on the hay and kindling… th-the house went up so fast I didn’t think I would make it out,” The stranger took his head in his hands, rocking himself back and forth as he muttered to himself. “I-I barely made it out. I made it out. I made it out.”

Amarok collapsed to his knees. His legs could no longer support him with this news, not with this devastation. Oddly, he did not feel lost. All he felt was fury as his world crumbled into ashes and joined the black smoke dancing around him. He began to be consumed by an unspeakable and uncontrollable urge to wreak havoc upon the world and everything that lived on it. Because everything now meant nothing, and he longer cared for it. He had nothing left to protect and hold dear. Where there was once light and warmth was now only the freezing dark and its white emptiness. There was only the smoke and the snow and the charred remains of his soul.

The hunter’s head suddenly jerked back to the stranger who was trying to stumble away from the misery he had caused. Still muttering to himself. Still rocking his body in self-comfort. Still holding his head. Amarok slowly rose from his knees and began to stalk after his new prey, and unlike the past few weeks, it was not a long hunt.

Grabbing the stranger by the back of his neck, Amarok heaved and threw his body onto the frozen ground. The once smooth and flawless ice now jagged and sharp as it fractured outward from the concentric point of a limp body’s impact. Blood slowly crept into the crevices, painting a crimson flower that bloomed fuller with each passing heartbeat.

A little red to join Amarok’s now black and white world.

A sadistic smile inched its way onto the hunter’s face as he kicked the stranger onto his back, placing the blood leaking out of the male’s temple and mouth in full view. Amarok had caught his prey, but the death blow wouldn’t come just yet. He still needed something from the weak shrivel of a male, which is why he did not reach for the dagger attached to his waist.

Surrounded by the splintered ice, the stranger struggled to bring air back into his lungs, chest spasming with his attempts. Not feeling any sympathy, Amarok knelt over the stranger and slowly encased the male’s neck with his hand before asking where the beasts went. He did not yell or hit the stranger, just glared with such cold, empty hatred that the male shuttered as he tried to claw at the hand now encircling his throat.

The stranger’s legs thumped an erratic beat against the icy earth, his eyes frantic and overflowing with small rivers of crimson. With heavy effort, he managed to lift his hand and weakly point eastward before his entire body sagged into unconsciousness. Sighing in disappointment, Amarok released the stranger’s throat and gazed to the east with narrowed eyes. His raw anger and pain still thrashed inside of him like a wild animal, begging to be released. Begging to be allowed the satisfaction of tearing apart the world. But the hunter contained it. At least until he got to the creatures who did it, he told himself.

Letting out a low growl, he gathered the unconscious male on top of his shoulders. Then, with a set jaw, Amarok started on his path away from the setting sun and into the depth of Opitax’s shadow.

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