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selfproducingfanfictionauthor · 4 years

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The Lore of the Forest - Chapter 1: What Winter Brings

Summary: Nothing ancient and magical is ever really lost. When the descendants and heirs of the myths and legends come together to live a normal life, something - someone - is thrown into their plans. Bringing with them aid, magic and so much more.

Pairing: Eventual BTS x Reader Genre: Poly, Romance, Fantasy

Chapter Warnings: Hidden Greek myth pun, Seokjin as town doctor, reader! appears, sick kids, lots of Seokjin focus sorrynotsorry, unedited, lots of backstory

Word Count: 7k+

Taglist: @xxqueenwxtchxx @lysannnnaa PROLOGUE HERE

Being back in the village is odd, Jungkook decides, especially since he has no recollection of his own absence.

Everyone in the village, from the young ones to the few remaining elders, look at him like he’s a ghost for the first few days of his return. Every time he approached someone, they’d turn to him with a small jolt as if they didn’t expect him even with him announcing his presence time and time again. It bummed him out for a bit but considering how the whole village mourned for him for almost a month, it was more than understandable and worth the awkwardness after every encounter.

At least now, there’s no more suppressed shrieks from the old ladies in the market.

Humming, Jungkook nods to himself, reaching for his wardrobe and picking out one of his brother’s shirts. They’d really gone ahead and burned all his clothes, huh? Good thing Taehyung’s still got some of his bigger shirts lying around. Brushing off some cloth balls, Jungkook shrugs on his thick coat and heads out the cottage.

Winter’s almost here, making its presence known with the barren trees and biting winds. The village streets are almost deserted, the inhabitants of their settlement preferring to stay at home and tend to their families. Snow has not fallen yet, and the few that are out are mostly adult men and women, gathering the last of their supplies for the coming cold, strengthening the roofs of their houses and bringing in their smoked catch.

Seokjin had mentioned that by the looks of the stars, it’s going to be one of the harsher winters they’ve had. As Jungkook’s feet lead him to the healing hut, he remembers the harshest winter their settlement has gone through.

He was only thirteen then, and the settlement was only composed of seven people. None of them older than eighteen. Seven young teenagers from different lineages, all thrown out from villages that didn’t want them and feared them. Remembering it now, still, brings forth a bitter taste in Jungkook’s mouth. He had never been one of the forgiving ones in their family.

That winter, they had nothing but the clothes on their backs and some dried fruits they’ve managed to steal from their wanderings from town to town. Their eldest, Seokjin, had only been eighteen but he and his other older brothers had done their best to scrounge up resources before winter hit, however, no matter how much they worked odd jobs for the “purebloods” – humans – it still wasn’t enough. When the first harsh gale came, Namjoon managed to convince an old kind gentleman to let them stay in his storage hut for the winter, in exchange for never ending fire. The old man, with winter living in his bones, was wedded to a woman who had spring in hers, so he wasn’t foolish enough to even think of turning them down.

However, the moment Jungkook, all young and barely presenting of his old blood, stepped from behind Hoseok everything came crashing down and they were sent packing.

(After, long long after, once the old couple’s children found their settlement, they found out that their lineage was nearly driven extinct by an old feud between them and Jungkook’s old blood. It was a bloody war, they’d said and their father, up until his death, still flinched at the sound of howling wolves.)

After they were kicked out – with the old man reluctantly parting with some of their supplies at the glare of his wife – Jungkook managed to sniff out an den deep in the forest. It was one of the few remaining dens of the old wolves, large enough to fit three adult werewolves and definitely large enough for seven of them – a bit tight but who were they to complain?

It was there, huddled together for warmth, did the eight of them spend what turned out to be the worst winter in two decades. It was there where Namjoon swore that it will never happen again – and where Jungkook swore he would follow that older male his entire life.

It took two years of non-stop work, of many many rejections and threats, one near-famine and, trial and error when it comes to farming and medicine, for them to finally settle down in their home between two mountains. And after that, it only took months for families to join them, it started with young adults, then their ailing parents and then their children. All of them believing in Namjoon’s leadership, brought forth by Yoongi’s expertise and Seokjin’s medical knowledge, charmed by Taehyung, assured by Hoseok’s strength and Jungkook’s hunt and kept by Jimin’s warmth.

As the healing hut came to view, Jungkook chews on the thought that the one thing he brings to the village is now banned by his brothers. He hasn’t been allowed to hunt since his return. Although a part of him understood, another part is disappointed that his skills couldn’t be put to use especially during these times. Winter means scarcity and scarcity means a possibility for people to starve.

He’d tried once to sneak out only to find out that Taehyung had put a subtle tracking charm on his person that notified them when he tried to step into the forest. And now, he’s rendered to be Seokjin’s assistant and errand boy in the healing hut.

“Jungkook! Great, you’re here!”

The wolf descent looks up to see his hyung looking ragged and wearing a cloth around his nose and mouth. Before he could ask, the son of fae tosses him a similar cloth and gestures him to tie it tight.

The moment he enters the healing hut, he understands.

Inside the hut is what looks like a half of the village kids, lying on cots parallel to the walls, all looking wan and weak even under the warm light. At the farthest corner of the room was Jimin, murmuring comforting words to a young girl around five while he wipes her arms with a cool cloth. Jungkook quickly walks towards Seokjin.

“Hyung, what’s happening?” he asks, words slightly muffled by the cloth around his face. Behind him, a watery cough splutters out a boy of six years old, quickly covered by his own mother sitting vigil by his side.

Seokjin pauses from reaching into his medicine cabinet. The cabinet is littered by different colored vials, some glass jars filled with roots and powders, all labeled with Seokjin’s crisp handwriting. This close, Jungkook could see the exhaustion in the older male’s eyes and the slight tremble of his hand. Quietly, Seokjin tips his head to the backroom and walks away with several jars.

The backroom of the healing hut is a relatively new addition, created to provide Seokjin some breathing space away from his patients. Usually, the patients are seen to where the kids are lying and then sent home to recover in their homes, with occasional visits from the village doctor.

Inside the backroom is a small bed and a large wide table. The table is littered with notes and powder marks from the upturned pestle and mortar. With a muted thud, Seokjin sets down the jars and rips away the mask from his face. Frustrated, he runs his hand through his hair and sighs.

“We’ve got ten kids sick in the middle of winter, that’s what we have.” Seokjin sighs and flops down the chair. He hasn’t slept in more than a day, only getting half hour sleeps while shifting with Jimin and Taehyung. It’s not sustainable, even if it’s only been a few days.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow. Ten? “But, yesterday we only had two. And I saw Yeon-Joo with Jimin back there. Didn’t we give her medicine three days ago?”

“That’s the thing.” The older male sighs, reaching out for his charts. In clear handwriting, he could see the emerging pattern and it’s not looking pretty. For the past week, all the ten kids in the other room came with the same symptoms characteristic of a cold. Common, especially with the cold change of the weather.

Seven days ago, it was the eight year-old daughter of the newly arrived couple from the east. Upon observation, Seokjin diagnosed it as a case of travel fatigue and sent the daughter and her mom with a vial of cold medicine.

Three days after, the triplets of the dryad descent came in with the same symptoms. Seokjin kept them overnight, running himself ragged at taking care of three puking kids at the same time. The day after they felt better and went home with a tweaked vial of stomach flu medicine, only to be replaced by two siblings, followed by another four in two days.

It was quiet for a few days until today, when Seokjin found a long line of parents carrying their kids – the same kids- in front of the healing hut.

Seokjin’s eyes focus on the charts and saw one common factor. All of the kids live in the same area, near the park and the registry, except one – Yeseo, the newcomers’ daughter. If his hunch is right, he’d have to notify Namjoon to convene what to tell the parents, else an argument and finger-pointing ensue.

“Jungkook, I need favor.”

And that’s how Jungkook finds himself in front of Yeseo, mask down and ready to sniff around the kid. Part of the reason why Namjoon assigned him in the healing hut is his acute sense of smell. Perks of being a wolf descent, he teased. It has helped them in the past to determine if someone was sick, or getting sick, or if something is poisonous or not.

I bet hyung didn’t see it coming this handy so soon.

Seokjin deemed it safe for him to get close as the children’s parents were left healthy even with constant exposure to their kids. Jungkook resolves to ignore the worried adults hovering behind him and sits low beside the trembling girl.

The babe’s face is flushed and sweat beads down her cheeks. With fearful eyes, she stares at Jungkook before flicking towards her mom. Her lips tremble.

“Hey, hey.” Jungkook’s voice is low and quiet, “Don’t cry. I’m not going do anything bad. Just going to check up on you, yeah? So you could get better faster.”

“And make snowballs?”

A fond smile tugs on Jungkook’s lips and he nods. “Yeah, and have snowball fights. Now, stay still for me, okay?”

Jungkook leans forward, close enough that there’s only a few centimeters between his nose and Yeseo’s forehead. He sniffs quietly, eyes closed and focused.

Underneath the smell of sweat, dry vomit and porridge are the nauseating smell of fear and nervousness. Detecting nothing different from normal cold, Jungkook moves to lift Yeseo’s wrist to his nose. Sniffing, he shuts his eyes tighter, blocking all the outside smells from his thoughts – from Jimin’s soap to the smell of ash from the fireplace – and finds something… sweet.

Dropping the child’s wrist gently, Jungkook looks at Seokjin and beckons him closer. The parents, sensing the atmosphere, give them space while Jungkook whispers to the fae descent.

Seokjin nods at the words before turning to Yeseo and her mom. “Sweetheart, did you eat something sweet? A fruit, maybe?”

The child tucks her head down as her mother answers. “No, we don’t have anything sweet in our house. And, we’ve only bought meat and vegetables from the market since we came here.”

The village doctor nods, understanding, before tilting his head to the young kid. Subtly, Seokjin releases some of his energy, enticing Yeseo to feel calm and honest. Her eyes turn slightly glassy and her cheeks flush prettily before she shifts in her place.

After a few moments, the child produces a small pouch from underneath the bed. “I… I found it before we came here. They’re my new favorite berries.”

Confused, the mother turns to her child and plucks the pouch from her little hands and gives it to Seokjin. When Seokjin opens it, the faint sickly sweet scent hits Jungkook like a raging bull and by the looks of it, Seokjin and Jimin are reeling from it too.

“What’s that?” Jimin asks from behind them.

Seokjin measures the heft of the silk pouch on his palm, feeling small malleable spheres inside. Opening it, Seokjin holds his breath and plucks out one bruised orange berry. Dread creeps under his skin, colder than the gusts of wind outside.

“Fetch Namjoon.”

The townhall is less of a hall and more of an open gazebo, located at the center of village right under the bell tower. It used to be a site for an ancient sequoia tree but a summer storm blew its branches down, to the point that it became dangerous being around it.

Instead of uprooting the tree, their group decided to carve the townhall inside its trunk. Now, it stands a few stories tall with high ceilings and open doors and windows. If you stand at its entrance, you can see the village vegetable gardens behind it. The trunk’s carved with tree carvings, leaves and fruits, honoring the creature it’s built in. Usually, the beauty and spaciousness of the townhall brings a sense of calm to meetings but, with the crowd of worried parents in thick coats – it’s anything but.

“Calm down. Everybody! Calm. Down.” Namjoon’s booming voice brings the crowd to a silence as he makes his way to the center, where Seokjin and Jungkook stand. At the left corner of the townhall, Hoseok towers, keeping an eye out for his brothers while Yoongi sits in front of the crowd and Taehyung hovers over the second-floor balcony.

The small pause of silence is broken by a large man with muted red hair and vibrant blue eyes. He wears very thin clothes compared to those around him, and towers over others by almost two feet.

“I knew we shouldn’t have accepted outsiders this close to winter!” he exclaims, and Seokjin remembers him to be the father of the sturdy triplets he watched over. For a winter giant descent, he’s got a fiery temper and a warm heart.

Murmurs of agreement fill the hall, and suddenly, the cold melts away. From the center of the room, Yoongi watches almost amusedly at how Namjoon controls his temper against the mere thought of it the way he controls his fire – seething just beneath the surface, crawling all over the floors.

“And let them suffer a winter homeless?” Namjoon asks, calmly and yet all of them could see the faint smoke curling from his nostrils. “Shin-hyung, you should know how bad winter can be for children.”

The winter giant descent flinches and holds his younger daughter, the only one who didn’t get sick, closer against his knees. Beside him, his human wife huddles close, likely remembering the last winter they spent in the mountains before finding this settlement.

“That’s not what this village stands for.” Namjoon reminds the people, “It’s founded by us who were cast away, do we really want to turn into the very people who left us for dead?”

At this, everyone is silenced.

From his corner of the room, Hoseok grins. It’s almost amazing how far Namjoon has come, from a reluctant leader of a bunch of kids to one who commands not only people’s attention but also their loyalty and trust through competence and empathy. Hoseok’s sharp eyes flicker up where Taehyung is and catches a sight of a sheer film laying over the people. It doesn’t take a second for each and every one to sit down calmly.

Hoseok shoots the younger male a warning glare, to which Taehyung just shrugs and flutters his fingers with a motion.

That kid can be very terrifying.

“Now, thank you for coming at such short notice and at such a weather. But this is the easiest and fastest way to relay information given how valuable time is to us now that winter’s coming,” Namjoon begins and turns to Seokjin. “Jin-hyung, will you share what you found?”

Seokjin steps forward and produces one of the percyberries from the Yeseo’s silk pouch. “This is a percyberry. I’m sure you’re all familiar with this. They tend to grow along the river bend a few kilometers from here. It was used to dress flesh wounds during the war, but was discouraged from patronage because of its ill effects when eaten.”

Seokjin pauses and empties the pouch on the table in front of him. “It causes dizziness and headaches for adults and flu-like symptoms for children, that when left untreated may cause death.”

Gasps erupt in the townhall and Hoseok curses Seokjin’s flair for the dramatic.

“Death??”

“My baby!”

“BUT! Since we’ve been treating them since the week before with similar medicine that combat percyberry poisoning, your children will be fine. We still decided to call everyone here to ask if any other child have eaten one of these”

Yeseo said she picked over two dozens and gave it away as offerings of friendship to the children in town when she and her family arrived. There are ten sick kids in the healing hut right now, assuming they ate two each and Yeseo ate four (or so she says) it should be all accounted for, but it’s never a bad idea to be thorough.

With a quick check-in on the remaining village kids and after making sure they didn’t eat even a bite of it. The townhall moves to a different and yet related concern.

“While we can treat your children, we have to ask for your help as well,” Jungkook starts with a parchment of paper in his hand, “Due to the several days straight of using our supplies, we’re running low on some roots and leaves, I have a list here with me. If you have any to spare, please let us know or drop it off the healing hut.”

It’s already near supper when the townhall dismisses. Seokjin left shortly after Jungkook finished listing the supplies to attend to the children they left with Jimin while the rest of them accompanied Namjoon as he answers the concerns and questions of the settlers.

Cast under the shadows from the hearth, Seokjin and Jimin watch over the children, their eyes sharp and catching each and every breath from each one. They’ve just finished brewing and administering the tweaked formula of the cold medicine to the children and the results are already showing. Unlike the nights before, at least this time, they’re sleeping through the night.

All of them, except one – Yeseo.

They’ve already given her two doses in the span of six hours, and yet, there’s very little improvement. As Seokjin watches her toss and turn in her bed, he sighs, exhaustion evident in his shoulders.

“I wish I’d inherited my kind’s healing abilities. Instead, I’m just good looking.”

Jimin looks at his hyung’s wry smile and stays silent, knowing how rare the older male lets his guard down. Seokjin may be all jokes and self-confidence, but when it comes to being the village doctor, he’s wrought with insecurities and fears.

“I should’ve diagnosed her correctly earlier.” Seokjin bites his lip and clenches his fist against his lap. “I wasn’t looking hard enough.”

“Hyung, nobody would’ve guessed that it’s percyberry poisoning – it’s winter. Percyberries only fruit during spring. Nobody would’ve thought of it.” Jimin reaches out to unfurl Seokjin’s fist and curls his fingers around his, “Besides, you figured it out and you formulated the new medicine. It was just a mistake.”

Yeah, a mistake that can cause a child’s life. Seokjin almost replies. It’s his fear that although Yeseo looked only as worse as the other kids before even after eating four pieces of the berries, it doesn’t mean she’s in the same amount of danger. Percyberry poisoning can be a hidden devil – striking fast and in the dark. Seokjin doesn’t want to attend a six year-old’s funeral.

“She’s going to be fine, hyung. Look, why don’t you nap in the backroom? I’ll take first watch.”

Winter’s first steps arrive in their town just as the kids recover and go home to their delighted and relived families. All of them, except one.

“It’s been three days and all the other kids already got better. Tell us, what’s happening to our daughter?”

It’s noon and yet the windows rattle with the intensity of the winds. The sun has not been out since yesterday. The healing hut is empty of ill children except one and Seokjin could see her from the little window of the partition between the backroom and waiting room. Deathly pale and shivering underneath thick layers of blankets. Jungkook’s beside her while Jimin naps on one of the vacant cots.

Beside Seokjin, Namjoon answers Yeseo’s father.

“Our healers have administered the medicine continuously since three days ago, however, we think with the number of berries Yeseo consumed, it will be much more difficult for her body to recover.”

It’s a diplomatic statement, kind in a way but not as honest as the father would’ve liked. So, he turns to Seokjin, with red-rimmed eyes, surprised when he meets another pair lined with despair too. Oh, this descendant of faes is still so young in many ways.

“Fae son, I’m a descendant of the dryads, cousin, tell me the truth.”

Seokjin, sat across the man and his wife, straightens in his seat at the word. His inky black eyes flickers back to the sleeping child, trying to will the color to come back to her cheeks. But what is will against facts? “The toxins has reached her intestines and the medicine is only managing the symptoms at this point. With the amount of percyberries Yeseo consumed, I’m afraid she won’t make it through winter.”

A heart wrenching sob tears through Yeseo’s mother as she clutches her husband for support. Had she not been sitting, her knees would’ve buckled and slid her down to the floor. Her baby, her precious innocent baby dead before tasting a better life? No.

“Is there anything else we could do? Anything! Please. I can’t lose our baby.”

Yeseo’s mother is a wisp of a woman, short and slim and with grief etched to her face, Seokjin doesn’t expect the intensity with which she grabbed his wrists. Her husband beside her keeps his anguish inside him, quiet like a storm, trying to keep at least one of them stable.

Seokjin shuts his eyes and weighs his options. Ignoring the weight of Namjoon’s stare and the imploring eyes of Yeseo’s parents, he remembers back to last night when he spent countless of hours going through the old texts he’d gathered over the years. In one book lined with golden boughs, he found a procedure so promising… and yet so risky.

It’s a book previously owned by a pure human doctor. (Though Seokjin thinks he’s part fae, just that he didn’t know it. The book was practically a half-diary with all he wrote at the margins and he had many, many lovers and one really bad heartbreak) It told of a perceberry poisoning case during the war wherein a female doctor extracted the poison directly from the patient’s body using a medical technique harnessing nature’s energy while making use of a differently ratioed concoction of the antidote mixture. It said to be inserted straight into one side of the patient’s body like a bubble, and pulled through a deep cut at the other side. It was supposedly repeated until the patient starts to vomit clear saliva.

Seokjin isn’t a doctor or a healer. Not really. He never got the chance to apprentice for someone, nor did his family ever get the chance to train him. The only reason he became the village doctor was because he’s the only one with the slightest familiarity with sicknesses and cures, all learned from a brief stint as an errand boy in a rundown clinic when he was thirteen.

But that doesn’t matter – because at this moment, regardless of whether or not he’s qualified, he’s the only one who can even remotely make things better for this kid. And so –

“There’s one thing we could do, but—” Seokjin pauses, not wanting to give false blind hope to the couple. Outside the wind howls and batters the hut, and Seokjin could feel Namjoon radiating heat like a furnace beside him. “—but, it’s very risky. I’ll be honest, it’s going to be very dangerous but we can try an operation. It’s proven and tested by a doctor during the war—”

“Have you ever done it before?” Yeseo’s mother asks, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Seokjin admits, “But, if you agree to this, I will exhaust every resource in my possession to save your daughter. I swear it on the remnants of magic in my blood.”

Yoongi hasn’t believed in a god for so long.

His brothers think of it as something he just says, bitter old man down to his bones, they joke but, it’s not. How can it be when the world’s so cruel? Harsh and unforgiving. Whatever beauty the fates provide are just mere consolation to what it plans to take away.

He knows, because it’s taken too much from him too. Everything he got to keep he fought tooth and nail, and blood for. Never was it given or kept easily.

That’s why, even if the odds are stacked against them, he volunteers to help the sick kid’s father. As the village blacksmith and occasional craftsman, Yoongi absolutely refuses to build a child-sized coffin.

So, no, Yoongi doesn’t believe in gods, but as he tilts his head up and basks in the peeking rays of the winter sun – maybe, just maybe, he believes in luck.

Just after Seokjin’s suggestion, Namjoon immediately gathered his brothers for this mission: gathering as many percyberries as they can for the operation. The winds were howling then, frigid and unforgiving and so the two other dragon bloods were chosen. It was almost a fight against Jungkook, but he understood that his pride and desire to prove himself once again will always take a backseat against the good of the many.

It only took a quarter of an hour for them to assemble all they need, most of the time going to Yeseo’s dad who refused to not be included in the team. And because he was the one who was sure about where his daughter got the berries, Namjoon agreed.

The moment they stepped out of the village gates, the winds calmed downed and the sun peeked – luck is more powerful than any preparations.

“Yoongi, maybe we should talk to him.” Hoseok jogs up to the blacksmith as he nods to the dryad descent ahead of them. Unlike them, he’s wrapped tight in heavy fur, warding off the chill.

Yoongi eyes the giant of a man and sees the stiffness in his shoulder and remembers how tight-lipped he was during the whole journey even at dinner when they ate around the campfire Hoseok set up. “I don’t think he wants to talk, Hoseok.”

Hoseok, never one for silence and not acknowledging other people’s suffering, sighs. It’s not like he knows what to say either, but shouldn’t he at least offer hope? He opens his mouth to protest before being cut off by a wild gust of wind.

Yoongi once again tilt his face up to the sky, seeing it darken quicker than he’s ever seen. It seems like their luck just ran out.

“It’s just a half-hour journey from here!” the dryad descent calls out, his voice wrapped in desperation and fear. They all knew that the percyberries will not survive this type of blizzard – if it had survived the first steps of winter, that is. “We can make it if we run!”

Hoseok nods and runs ahead, and Yoongi once again, curses the non-existing gods.

Winter, has always been a challenge for you.

It’s not that you hate it, not really. Winter, after all, is an integral part to the cycle of life. Although heavily associated to death – spring, being rebirth – it is also rest. It is when everything slows down, when animals hibernate and recharge. If anything, it’s nature at its recovery.

Winter is also very beautiful. The way intricate snowflakes fall to the ground, covering the weary soil with a blanket of white. Or the way it gathers on top of trees and how the cold creates frost on window sills and fog around your breath.

You don’t hate winter, not at all.

It’s just so fucking cold.

Shivering, you trudge through the snow covered ground, you wince under your robe at how the cold penetrates your boots. Even with a heated robe, everything still feels cold down to your bones. Without even consulting the stars, you already know that it’s gonna be less of those picturesque winters you’ve had the past few years and more of a whole ordeal that you just need to survive.

And to survive, you need your supplies.

Turning just around the river bend, you let a small smile tug your lips at the sight of the bubbling river. It’s not a big river by any measure, but never in history has it frozen, allowing people – magical or otherwise – to survive on the fish that inhabits it during lean months.

It’s littered by giant rocks of all colors, some see through while the others reflect its surroundings. In spring, it reflects all the colors of the forest it hides in – all the reds, oranges, purples and greens of the flowers and trees, - making the river look as magical as the stories used to go.

Your mother used to tell you that it’s where mermaids and mermans sunbathe with their colorful tails and beautiful faces and wait for their human lovers and half-human children. You remember smiling giddy at the thought while your grandmother pulls you aside and tells you too how the pearls under the river were tears of said mermaids and mermans who were betrayed and killed by their lovers, simply because they were too beautiful – and no creature that beautiful ever remains loyal or so the mad men used to say.

Your grandmother always did know how to douse you with a cold bucket of water – literally and otherwise.

After a hop and a skip, and nearly slipping on one of the smooth rocks, you approach the nearly barren riverbank. Waving a hand, the illusion wavers like disturbed water and reveals several vibrant percyberry bushes. Under the cool light of winter, the orange berries shine like marbles.

Normally, you wouldn’t grow spring bushes in winter time. It’s one of the ways you’ve gone undetected for years but after the incident last month, your supplies have dwindled down to a measly two jars of the berries. You eye the healthy shrubs, eyebrows knitting together at the bald spot on one of the shrubs. Perhaps you should practice your growing spells more often.

Shrugging, you get to work. As you pick the berries with nimble hands, you wonder of the man you sheltered for a month.

He was handsome, perhaps younger than you by a few years. It was luck that you came across him at the edge of the forest. You rarely step out of it during busy seasons, when hunters are at their most abundant and busy. You’ve used almost all of your percyberry stocks on his wounds and as a tranquilizer to keep him sedated and unconscious for most of the month he was with you.

Handsome as he was, it wouldn’t do good for anyone to know where you are.

Distantly, you hear the whistle of the wind before a sharp gust threatened to knock you over the bushes. To your surprise, it was followed by sounds of huffing breath and heavy breathing.

Shit. Who in their right minds are out this far in the middle of winter?

Quickly, you scramble to pick the last of the percyberries and placed them in your basket before turning away. You pause and debate to whether or not to cast the illusion back but the crunch and slosh sounds against the wet earth had you murmuring a different spell before turning away.

Crossing the river is not an option. It’s too wide and too open, there’s no way to hide unless underwater and you don’t fancy being frozen to death.

Eyes darting around, your eyes catch a small cave hidden in the shadows of the bare winter trees. Quickly, you murmur a notice-me-not spell and watch as your footprints disappear as you run into the cave. You make your body as small as possible, your knees tucked to your chest and your hood wrapped around your body – finally, you murmur another spell as you disappear from sight.

From your position, you could see a group of three men appear by the bend. The first one is an older man, with stubble as white as snow and deep brown eyes. He breathes heavily as he trudges through the snow, seemingly looking for something or someone. His eyes catches your percyberry shrubs, and the anguish that takes over his face almost had your magic wavering.

The man’s knees hit the cold ground as despair breaks out of him in the form of a choked sob. The shrubs are empty, bare of leaves and fruits, and covered in snow. To hide your trace, your spell took away all it life energy and shrouded it with snow as similar as its surroundings.

From behind him, two thinly-clothed younger males approach cautiously. The taller one approached the older man with sympathy in his amber eyes, his eyes trained on the very same bushes. Even from the distance, you could tell that he’s not purely human.

You could always tell.

Knowing that, you double your energy into strengthening your spell and added one that will help you hear them from a far. By now, the winds are howling, beckoning a storm to come. The third man of the group is shorter than both of the first two men, but with eyes sharp and trained on the forest shadows.

For a moment, he pauses looking straight at you.

A few heartbeats pass before a huge gust of wind blows once again. You know he can’t see you, but you still hold your magic close to you, murmuring another set of spell to divert his attention.

“Yoongi, we need to go!” the taller man calls, and the man named Yoongi turns away from you and nearer to the sobbing man on the forest floor.

“No, no, no! There has got to be more shrubs here!”

The shorter man – Yoongi – bites his cheek and runs over to the other two. His brows are furrowed, and his jaw clenched tight as if readying to strike a blow. “There’s none. You and I both know that—”

Desperately, the dryad descent chokes and shoves the younger men off him. “Then let me die here.” How can he possibly face his wife, his daughter – his darling, precious daughter – his soon-to-be dead daughter—

Yoongi grabs the man by the neckline of his coat, dragging him up to his knees with his eyes looking straight into his. “You’re an idiot and a coward if for a second you’d think we’d agree to that,” the dragon descent lets out a puff of fire, watching it sizzle and disintegrate into the cold, “You plan to die ahead of your family to avoid suffering? Go ahead. But don’t do it while we’re around.”

The bitter words echo in your bones. The dread of realization dawning unto you – the empty spot in one of the bushes… but how? Who?

With that, Yoongi releases the older male and nods to Hoseok. “We have to find shelter. The blizzard’s coming, send word ahead to Seokjin – tell him to see what he could scavenge from the old greenhouse.”

Pausing, the blacksmith turns to the lost dryad who’s still staring at the bushes blankly. This is what he hates about hope. How easily it’s snuffed out by things out of your control, but perhaps living with his brothers has got Yoongi soft and so he offers this;

“It’s not over yet.”

After sitting out the blizzard in one of the old dens they found in the map, the three of them travel by foot until nightfall. It’s only a half-day’s away from their home, and Seokjin has already sent word via a messenger bird that they’ve gathered barely enough percyberries to continue with the operation.

That means there’s going to be an operation, yes.

And absolutely no room for errors.

Hoseok definitely doesn’t envy Seokjin right now. Across him, Yeseo’s father sleeps, as close to the campfire as he could without being burned. The ground is not comfortable, but it’s the best they could do at the moment.

“Did you see what I saw earlier?” Hoseok asks as he looks straight ahead into the fire he built. Beside him, Yoongi shifts and bends one leg to his chest, his back resting against the tree.

“Depends on what you saw.” The blacksmith replies, his eyes closed. Being a dragon descent has its advantages, like getting to control your body temperature if you try hard enough.

“You know what I mean.” The younger male sighs, not in a mood for a back and forth guessing game. “The ground beneath the shrubs, it wasn’t frozen.”

Hoseok almost missed it, too busy comforting the sobbing man earlier that day. But as he knelt beside the grieving father, he saw fresh earth peeking underneath the snow covering the shrubs. One sniff and he knew that the dirt was healthy and new, smelling so much like spring. It didn’t make sense because the shrubs were devoid of life, shriveled and breaking off into pieces as the snow covered them.

“It wasn’t.” Yoongi agrees, his eyes opening, lids heavy with contemplation. He remembers seeing the same thing and feeling the odd heaviness of someone watching them the whole time. It’s not the first time somebody slipped under their radar, but every time it happens, it’s always a bad sign.

“I sent a separate missive to Namjoon. With winter being as harsh at is right now, we won’t have any time to investigate, best be prepared for the worst.” Hoseok says, and Yoongi’s reminded why he was chosen to lead the security for their village.

Despite Hoseok’s fun and flighty image, he’s unparalleled when it comes to tactics and maneuvers. His dragon encouraging him to protect his family and those close to them as much as he can.

Above them, the sky is dark and there are no stars in sight.

“You okay, hyung?” Jimin asks as he passes yet another polished glass to the older male. A glance at Seokjin could tell how exhausted the young man is. The moment the letter arrived from Hoseok, Seokjin and Jimin had gone out to the old greenhouse to scavenge percyberries.

What they found barely filled up a whole fruit bowl, most of them still small and barely containing the elements needed for the antidote mixture. But they have to work with what they have. And what they have is Seokjin, an old book and very limited resources.

Seokjin looks up from his notes and offers Jimin a tight smile. “I’d say I am but then I’d be lying.” There are bags under his eyes, and his skin has turned pale from the continuous sleepless nights he had either taking care of Yeseo or researching on the procedure that might potentially save her life. The procedure that will be taking place in less than an hour.

Yeseo’s been transferred to the backroom, which in turn was turned into a de facto operating room with boiling water prepared at one corner, courtesy of Namjoon, and towels and cloths at another. The mixture is bubbling in three of the cauldrons, and in the middle of the room is a tall bed, perfect for Seokjin’s height, illuminated by several candles.

“Hyung?” Jungkook’s head pops out from behind the door, “We just gave Yeseo the sedative. Are we ready?”

Seokjin stands and pulls out several basins, “As much as we could be.”

When Seokjin enters the backroom, he sees Yeseo’s parents huddled against the wall at the end of the bed where their only daughter lies. Her father hasn’t changed from his travelling clothes and there’s a telltale streak of tears dried on his face, similar to the fresh rivers flowing from his wife’s eyes. Seokjin looks at Jungkook and nods towards the couple. Instantly, Jungkook ushers them to sit down a distance away from their child, just so Seokjin has enough room to work.

The lack of percyberries that resulted from their escapade really hurt the plan. When Seokjin calculated just how many cauldrons he’d need, he came up with six and yet what they have is only three – or two and a half, if he’s being completely honest. Barely enough to clear out the toxins in the child’s digestive organs, let alone from her lungs and even her heart.

But, Seokjin found a similar technique from a different book that allows limited volumes of mixtures to be stretched when resources are scarce. It highly depends on control, something Seokjin has practiced for years. He used to shake at the thought of blood, but now, it’s only seen as something that needs to be done.

Behind him, Jimin enters with a basin of hot water where sharp tools are submerged to ensure cleanliness. He places it on one of the lower tables beside Yeseo and then stands still beside Seokjin, waiting for instructions.

The sedative should last for two hours, Seokjin calculates. That’s enough time to ensure that the child will not feel pain as he creates incisions and pulls out the poison directly from her organs. They don’t have time to waste.

“Jimin, give me the knife.”

With steady hands, Jimin hands him a small knife and watches as Seokjin creates a deep cut underneath Yeseo’s fourth rib. Blood oozes out and the smell penetrates the room. Quickly, Seokjin holds the wound close with one of the towels before gesturing Jimin to take over and hold the pressure. Seokjin then repeats it on Yeseo’s left side second rib.

Reaching over one of the basins filled with the antidote mixture, Seokjin focuses his deep seated magic over the water mixture. His palm is stretched wide over the basin, just a few inches above it. Slowly but surely, the water dances up to his palm, almost like it’s magnetized, wrapping itself around his fingers up until the basin empties.

Eyes wide with wonder, Jungkook and Jimin watch as their hyung breaks out a sweat injecting the antidote mixture into the incision he made on Yeseo’s left side. Yeseo’s small body begins to trash at the invasive procedure, much to her parents’ concern. Her limbs begin to rattle, shaking the table with its intensity.

“Jungkook! Hold her down! Go!”

As the wind howls outside, Jungkook quickly uses his strength and holds Yeseo’s arms down with his forearm, while his other hand cradles her small head. “I got her, I got her.”

“Okay, don’t let go.” Seokjin instructs and injects more of the mixture into her body. He closes his eyes, visualizing where he wills the antidote to go. As it passes through her lungs, he sees how the mixture strips the organ of the poison and how it traps it within itself. Confident with his control, Seokjin reaches over Yeseo’s right side and draws the mixture out through the incision under her right rib.

He hears a soft gasp from the side of the room, as the mixture is suspended in mid-air, heavy with black goo. Eyes alight at the prospect of success, Seokjin turns to Jimin with renewed vigor.

“Pass me one of the basins, quick!”

Slowly, Seokjin releases his hold of the floating glob and it sloshes around the basin before settling. The goo settles at the bottom of the basin, looking every bit of malignant and terrifying in its quiet. This, this is what torments the young child on Seokjin table.

For a moment, Seokjin sees his reflection looking back at him from the surface of the poison he extracted. His eyes, though tired, are alight with hope and adrenaline.

With the possibility of doing something right.

But, then again, what is will against facts?

It is on hour three when things start to fall apart.

Seokjin’s hands are numb and his reserves are scraped raw. They were never deep to begin with, what with his lack of practice in the magical side of his heritage, but he’d thought he’d have at least enough. The last of the cauldrons lie beside him, tipped over with no remaining drop of the antidote inside and the wastes on the bins are just barely transparent.

There’s still so much left inside this girl’s tiny body, and Seokjin has nothing left to give.

Pulling the last of the mixture out of the incision on Yeseo’s side, Seokjin drops it unceremoniously on one of the remaining basins, his magic snuffed out.

“Is that all?” Yeseo’s mother whispers, her eyes trained on the basins filled with black goo. Seokjin lets out a shuddering breath, frustrated tears burning at the back of his eyes.

“It’s all we have.”

After hours of debating, and pushing against the harsh gales of the winter wind, the village gates peek around the dirt road. Large and imposing, it’s a sign of a stable settlement of perhaps a few generations.

To you, it’s a sign of danger.

When the men left, you rushed back to your little cabin and summoned your looking glass with urgency. And because nature is the witness of all things past, present and future, you squeezed one of the percyberries onto the river water and enticed it to show what it saw.

It showed you a little girl, accompanied with her parents. It showed you their curving eyes and mouths, smiling and joyous and loving the prospect of their new home. In her parents’ excitement, the child is left alone and trips over your bushes.

Children, with their open hearts and boundless imaginations, often trip into magic accidentally, no questions asked.

You saw how your illusion melted before her, her eyes rounding at the beautiful ripe berries. You saw how she picked handfuls of the berries, shoving it into her pockets and when that filled out, you saw her open a pouch and fill that too.

To your horror, you saw her eat one. Then another. And another.

And so you’ve come. Armed with your magic, shedding away the anonymity and safety that your distance afforded you through the years. Although fearful and wary, to you, it just comes down to two things: it was your mistake and it is a child.

Eyeing the guard posts by the gates, you take a deep breath and with tired limbs and wary eyes, you drop off the notice-me-not charm, pull of your hood and step inside the village gates.

Notes: Aaaand! Enter Y/N! Feedback is much appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! So so far, here are the facts: - Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok are of dragon-descent - Jungkook is of werewolf descent - Jin is of fae descent - Jimin is ??? - Taehyung is ???

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