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Chapter Text

Vocab

Hyrde: "guardian", monster hunter, a dangerous yet honourable profession in Oíche Muir. Hyrdes hunt dangerous non-humans and other beasts

Dreor Rodor: literally "Dripping Blood Sky" meaning a blood moon, which bridges the magic between the planes and drives creatures to insanity and bloodlust

Names

Hongjoong Vann/Ælfwig: a rogue hyrde not loyal to the queen or the order

Yeosang (Aelfscyne): a faun under the protection of Hongjoong. He has no last name, but for official documents, Hongjoong made one up for him

Mingi Aglæca: a merchant of goods and information from Deorctun, dabbles in his own inventions for the hunt

Seonghwa Wihtbane: the youngest son of the Wihtbane family

Yunho Wihtbane: the middle son of the Wihtbane family

Queen Blodwyn Ffrith: the Queen of the Kingdom of Oíche Muir, rules from the capital of Tir Sawol

Lady Maria Ælfwig: a huntress in the service of Queen Blodwyn and her distant relative, mentor of Hongjoong, Countess of Adlbearm

The Wihtbanes: a noble family of creature slayers under the order of the queen, descendants of Ascward Wihtbane. Known for their inventions for the hunt and their pale white masks they wear at all times

Ascward Wihtbane: the legendary hyrde who saved the continent from a massive threat and earned nobility for it 256 years ago, an idol to many hyrdes

The Weaver: a mysterious entity living in the Tower of Echoes. Their origin is unknown and, for the right price, they might either aid their visitors or drive them insane, calls themselves by many names, one of which is "Wooyoung"

The Order of the Three Divines: the church most revered in Oíche Muir and enjoying a good reputation with the populace and the government. The Three Divines are Humanity, Peace and Devotion, which get worshipped in proper sermons compared to the old pagan folk beliefs

Aylin Roydon: a young girl from Ashenmire, a friend of Hongjoong and Yeosang

Harlan Vann: Hongjoong's father

Sunniva Vann: Hongjoong's mother

Leofcild Vann: Hongjoong's younger brother

Ophelia: Seonghwa's doll

Ikaeven the Harvester: a necromancer living in the Wyrmbearu

San: a fallen knight in the service of Ikaeven the Harvester

Mona: A tavern maiden working in the Jaded Plate

Aradin: A member of the Order of the Three Divines

St. Galahad: A revered saint of the order and founder of the church in Deorctun

Places

Oíche Muir: the kingdom ruled by Queen Blodwyn Ffrith

Bluotsunft: a bog south of Deorctun

Ascae Isilae: the islands in the north-westernmost corner of the kingdom, settles in the Aefenbrim, Hongjoong's birthplace

Aefenbrim: the ocean in the north-west of the kingdom

Cealdholt: the forest around Deorctun

Maereholt: the abode of the Wihtbanes, referring to both the surrounding forest and the mansion itself

Deorctun: a town in the east of Oìche Muir gradually falling to decay and the shadows

Swefnheim: seat of the Order of the Three Divines, a thriving city

Tir Sawol: the capital of Oìche Muir, from where Queen Blodwyn rules, home of Lady Maria

Droigheann: "Blackthorne", no official name, but the name Hongjoong and Yeosang gave to the abandoned graveyard and the chapel they live in

Blodbeorge: the mountains in the west of Deorctun, dividing it from Tir Sawol

Adlbearm: a village on the coast of the Aefenbrim, lost to the plague and a vampire attack

Ashenmire: a village south of Droigheann

Tower of Echoes: the home of The Weaver in Deorctun and across all other planes

Otherworld: the realm of the gods and the afterlife in common folk belief

Wyrmbearu: Home of the necromancer of the Bloutsunft

Sweart Mere: "Dark lake", cradles Sarig and Crowburgh

Rhosyn Craig: A peculiar rock on the peak of the same name in Blodbeorg

The Jaded Plate: An inn in Deorctun

Chapter Text

Non-humans

Púca

- a shapeshifter

- appears in the shape of various animals like horses, goats, cats, dogs, or hares or a human with animal features like ears or a tail

- encounters were said to peak after the harvest, particularly around Samhain

- those who neglected this offering often found their remaining harvest mysteriously destroyed

- leave the last berries or grains of harvest unplucked as "Púca's share" to avoid mischief

Merrow:

- merfolk, half fish, half human

- free-spirited, powerful, and skilled at deception, but also possess a vengeful, barbaric nature

- can be found in lakes and oceans

- Males: green, grey or blue scales and hair, short limbs, sharp teeth, and unsettling eyes, capture sailors to trap them under the sea to torment

- Females: lure men from the land to keep as slaves in captivity or drown them, known to be bloodthirsty and have been known to eat men alive if they do not follow or try to escape her grasp, portrayed as radiant and ethereal, with glistening scales, long beautiful hair, and striking features

Gancanagh:

- a male fairy who seduces women into lovesick madness, master of seduction

- shapeshifter, able to take the form of a beautiful man or a heavenly fairy

- his looks cause indescribable yearning and physical attraction in women, intoxicated by him while he feeds off love and affection

- once robbed of their virginity, women lose their purity and even their worth in many communities, often driving them away or into death because of heartbreak

Vampyre:

- powerful blood-drinkers of the night

- appear as regular people barely recognisable as inhuman, though they might look a tad too pale and have no reflections

- can shift into bat-like monsters with red eyes, leathery wings, pallid grey skin and sharp teeth and a jaw that can unhinge to make room for a bigger bite

- the fledglings are victims of their instinct and thirst, while higher vamypres can charm and control other lower creatures like ghouls and black hounds

- can't go into the direct sun or else they turn to ashes

- they burn from sacred symbols and holy water, garlic only wards off younger ones

- fledglings must drink the blood of a higher vamypre to earn the same status and the bite that can turn humans into fledglings

Werewolf:

- half person, half wolf

- their bite turns anyone else into a werewolf, too

- turn during a full moon, they can't control the frenzy and inevitably turn to go on slaughter sprees to sate the bloodlust

- the appearance differs depending on age, size, fur colour and distinct features

- they suffer from silver and ironworth

- can turn at will or with the help of certain potions to be in control of their wolf shape, but risk losing their grasp to madness

Fairies:

- rare since more beasts prowl the forest and scare them away

- spiritual beings with supernatural abilities and temperaments

- kind if treated with respect, horribly cruel if not

- exist within trees, streams, and earth but hard to find unless they show themselves through natural occurrences

- trap children in mushroom rings, or lure people with dance and song into forests to play their mischief with them

Redcaps:

- murderous dwarves with long teeth and claws

- murder trespassers into their territory to dip their caps into the fresh blood to soak up fresh life essence and stay alive, thus have to kill to be alive

- heavy iron boots can be heard on stone

- defeat with blessed symbols and prayers

Brownie:

- the helpful (until offended) house fairies

- small household fairies who clean up around the house while humans sleep, attaching themselves to families they deemed worthy of assistance, always hiding from humans to avoid being seen

- may be noticed through mysteriously clean homes or items moved about during the night

- work hard in return for simple food offerings like cream or bread but dislike being offered clothing or payment for their services

- they also refuse to be named or acknowledged, and if they ever are, they either disappear or transform into harmful boggarts, who are out for mischief and chaos like destroying the household and spoiling food

- it's best to show appreciation indirectly by commenting on the orderly state of the house or pretending to thank the skies for such a blessing

Fauns and Satyrs

- Fauns are often mistaken for the more malevolent and mischievous satyrs

- Satyrs represent the wild and unruly, often drunk and sexually promiscuous, they cause chaos wherever they go and are often found in brothels, inns or at parties nobody invited them to. They have the lower half and the horns of a goat

- Fauns are considered shy and innocent, often acting as shepherds to lost travellers and forest animals. They prefer to live in the forest, among nature. Fauns have the legs and antlers of a deer

Mages

- includes wizards, witches, sorcerers, warlocks, druids and necromancers who deal with any sort of ancient magic

- usually lonesome dwellers who tend to their own obscure business but can be approached for favours in return for payment

- their magic can be used for sinister purposes and is considered vile by the church

The Weaver

- the origin of The Weaver is unknown, but it is said that they originated from a different realm altogether

- appear as a centipede-like creature with dozens of arms instead of legs and a pale head

- people think there are multiple of them in this world, but others theorise that it's the same Weaver that can be found from various places across the kingdom

- they collect memories and items with special meaning or value in return for wisdom, which may or may not be true

Creatures, fiends and demons

Banshee:

- reside near rivers, wooded areas, and rock formations, or haunting specific buildings and places

- sound like a bird whisking through the wind when they move

- appear as old withered old women in ghostly garments of black or white, reminiscent of mourning. Their crying gives them constant red eyes

- produce piercing screams that are an omen of death and can be heard from far away, usually they cry in the night

Wraith:

- floating ghosts of the deceased that still have business in this world or are unhappy with their deaths

- they can't leave the area their corpse is in, so they frequent graveyards and battlefields

- they can't physically harm people, but their sight of decay and rot or their hauntings have scared humans to death before

- only move on when their matters have been resolved

- only visible in the dark

Kelpie:

- a horse appearing from the water with the upper half of a horse and the lower half of a fish

- found in swamps, rivers, lakes, any larger body of water

- long dark mane like sea grass

- the kelpie lures people to mount it, but once mounted, the rider will be dragged into the water to be drowned

- grab its bridle to take command of the kelpie, but it might be hard to find in its mane

- kelpies can summon floods and shape the water

- they do not eat livers, which are then often found washed ashore as a sign a kelpie is near

Fear Gorta:

- rises from mass graves like ghouls but looks more ghostly and skeletal

- herald impending doom or death, like the banshee

- goes from house to house begging for food

- treat him well to be blessed with good fortune, mistreat him and he will spread famine, poverty, madness or even death

- fend him off by always carrying bread with you so he can take the bread without cursing you

Dullahan:

- the headless horseman who actively identifies who dies next, riding through the night ever restlessly

- rides a massive black stallion and holds his own head under his arm

- when the Dullahan stops riding and calls out a name, that person dies immediately

- no doors or walls can stop him, and all locks spring open at his approach

- uses a human spine as a whip

- often spotted during Samhain

- can be driven away temporarily by gold since even the shine of a single coin can distract him

Sluagh:

- spirits trying to steal souls before they reach the otherworld, prowl around the newly deceased

- fly in through west-facing windows using leathery wings

- force dying people to participate in their nightly hunts, transforming them slowly into one of their own

- keep west-facing windows closed when someone is dying

Bánánach:

- a goat demon, bigger than satyrs and with goat heads but human chests

- piercing shrieks that caused death or madness

- specifically targeted warriors who died without honour, often found near battlefields

Far Darrig:

- translated to The Red Man

- a dwarf dressed entirely in red but, unlike the Púca, he plays bloody jests using corpses or madness to drive people to cruel deeds

- does this for his own wicked joy compared to the redcaps

- forces humans into riddles and murders them if they refuse, but those who play along might receive magical perks but at a high cost

- enjoys placing changeling children in the place of human babies

Fomorians:

- a race of giants that once enjoyed great wisdom and inventions in the far past but then succumbed to their darker traits and became blood-thirsty

-deformed from occult magic

- cause chaos and destruction

- could control the weather, the mists and the waves of the ocean

- bring blight upon the crops, sickness upon the cattle, and plague to the people

- icy winds of winter were theirs to command

- can summon deadly spirits to question about the past or future, or events far distant

- their king destroyed whole islands with his fire-spitting eye

- built the monuments

- once ruled all the lands until they died out, fought wars, shaped the landscape

- invented agriculture

Nuckelavee:

- a skinless horse with a skinless human torso fused onto its back, a big head and burning red eyes with yellow veins pumping black blood

- found in bogs and near coasts

- it can't cross fresh water or deal with the summer heat

- breathes blight onto crops

- causes livestock to die of mysterious illnesses

- hides in the ocean depths in winter, emerges onto land to spread disease in spring and autumn

Ghoul:

- depicted as a malevolent being that dwells near graveyards and desolate places, consuming the flesh of both the living and the dead

- hence often appear in graveyards and battlefields

- appear as partly rotten corpses that came back to life, often famished or incomplete and with grotesque features that no longer recognise their loved ones.

- they are mindless, following their instincts and sense of smell to feast on the dead

- to kill them, one must destroy their heads

Black Dog:

- a demonic hound with black fur, bigger than regular wolves

- glowing yellow eyes

- a sign of evil, may serve evil masters as guardians and fight dogs

- appears at crossroads and may be ridden by malevolent fairies

- scavenge corpses and hunt down lone wanderers to maul them

Will o' the wisps 

- colourful magical orbs that float in the air

- usually summoned by mages but can also break free from their bonds and roam freely

- said to lure unsuspecting humans into their demise but otherwise harmless

*****This glossary might be updated as I add new creatures, so please make sure to check in often *****

Chapter Text

A shot rang through the crisp morning air, breaking the silence of the forest in a resounding omen of death. Sharp eyes tracked the movement between the dead trees while the smoke still evaporated from the muzzle of the heavy steel pistol. 

The creature moved fast. Dashing through the underwood with no care for the twigs it snapped under its bare feet. Its shape blurred among the gnarly branches of rotting oaks and cherry trees. White fabric ripped on sharp twigs and got even more splattered with mud. The sound of bird wings cut through the air, though not a single feather was in sight.

The pistol found its mark once more. Another shot. 

Hit, the target stumbled, bellowing a screech so inhumane that it chilled the blood of anyone in earshot. When it whipped around, green blood oozed from the injury on its shoulder.

"Come on," Hongjoong muttered as he hastily stuffed his gun with more bullets and gunpowder. He aimed again, his arm steady and unafraid despite the night looming over the forest that engulfed him with its sly whispers and the rustling in the underbrush. 

The creature launched at him, moving quicker than any human ever could. The malice that glinted in her reddened eyes wanted to rip into his flesh, shred it from his very marrow and devour him slowly. 

Hongjoong's eyes flinched to the paper bag fallen to the ground between them. The lumps denting it. Then he angled his gun at the banshee's head and shot.

She managed to duck on time, side-stepping until her foot landed only a hair's breadth from the paper bag. Hongjoong scowled at her stubbornness. Bared, pointy teeth snarled back at him as the figure ducked her hunched back further, ready for the next attack. Her eyes glowed red in her tear-filled face.

"Now you're taunting me," Hongjoong huffed when her stare tracked him. The creature glanced down at the bag when she noticed his occasional peeks. Curiously, she shuffled closer, but Hongjoong warningly cocked his gun again.

"Don't touch it!"

Startled by his yell, the creature whipped around, screeching before her attack.

And Hongjoong's shot hit her right between the eyes before those taunt muscles could launch at him.

The banshee instantly collapsed, blood and brains oozing from the wound. Her pallid skin aged quickly with her death, losing the appearance of a young woman to leave a wart-riddled hag behind. Her dirt-stained dress cast her in a veil of ghostly innocence.

Once he was sure she wasn't moving anymore, Hongjoong rushed in to make sure she hadn't landed on his package, nervously checking the contents. The scratch on his shoulder throbbed where her sharp nails had ripped through the fabric of his coat.

All whole. 

He breathed a sigh of relief before he holstered his gun. The cold air dipped into his open collar to caress over the flash of his exposed chest when he crouched, making sure no more life gleamed in the frenzied stare of the banshee. Her leathery skin stank of decay.

Hongjoong dusted off his long coat when he got back up.

About time he left before someone else crawled from the fog draping around the trees, be it another creature or a person.

So he tucked his package under his arm to continue down the forest path, briskly crossing through the Cealdholt while the skies darkened above him. The sheath of his sword dangled from his hip as his boots thudded lightly and unafraid on the flattened earth road. He didn't light a lantern, wouldn't risk attracting the source of all the groaning and hissing between the trees. Not a single green leaf was in sight to shroud him from view. Instead, the mists clung to the trees like whimsical dresses, chilling the dead woodland and its inhuman inhabitants. But no matter the season, too much evil festered in this place for nature to strive. The forest was as if sucked of all life.

Luckily, Hongjoong didn't catch the attention of any other creature. Soon, the path clambered over a hill, and the trees stopped short in a line as if they shied away from the graveyard nestled in their midst. Silent and crooked, the weathered gravestones were getting devoured year by year by moss and poison ivy. They demanded their space in this clearing, even though this place hadn't seen a keeper in a long time.

Hongjoong followed the winding trail between the graves. The wind and the weather had claimed most of the names on the gravestones, but Hongjoong still knew them. In his own mind, each rock had its own name and assignments, mattered even though he never knew their inhabitants.

A small chapel rose in the midst of the graves. It overlooked the dead like a shepherd his sheep and loomed with the steely presence of a guardian all the same. Warm light fell through its pointed windows, contrasting with the gothic steeple and the countless smaller spires reaching for the skies all around the roof.

Hongjoong scanned his surroundings as he marched up to the vaulted entrance, making sure no eyes were following him. Then he opened one of the double-winged doors to step onto the sacred ground.

The scent of rosemary and roasted onions met him, welcoming him with a homy hug. The candelabras were lit, making the shadows dance in merry skips on the bare stone walls. Hongjoong shrugged off his coat and left it on the hanger next to the door, right on top of a green felted cape. 

The nave was void of any altar or benches for prayer. Instead, several desks of massive wood offered space to work on weapons and writings, trunks gathered Hongjoong's equipment, and a distillery in the far back allowed for experiments with chemical fluids. Hongjoong undid his belt to leave his sword to clean up later, and his gun also thudded into an empty spot on the bookshelf full of old and worn parchment rolls.

Led by his nose and the grumble of his stomach, he dipped down the stairs next to the entrance, where a steep stone passage unveiled the secure cellar of the cathedral. The clanging of iron pots and wooden bowls greeted him on his left. The kitchen settled in the nook of the singular room was buried under a variety of plants, both the drying herbs tied to the shelves and the fresh potted plants that climbed all over the furniture and tried to squirm into the cupboards. Wild wine raked around the entrance, and even the old wood of the chairs had started sprouting new saplings. Flowers in oranges, yellows and blue decorated every free corner until the gloomy vault of the cathedral was sprouting with life.

Yeosang stood in the kitchen, concentrated eyes dashing between the food he was heating over the fire and the book laid out on the counter by his side. His long hair curled into his features, and he kept tucking it behind his ear without success. 

"There you are, my fawn!" Hongjoong called from a distance so he wouldn't startle, and Yeosang whipped around immediately, his face lighting up. Within a moment, the food was forgotten when he stormed from his kitchen nook.

"Hongjoong!" Full of glee, he threw himself into Hongjoong's embrace, wrapping his arms around his strong shoulders. When Hongjoong picked him up around his waist to spin him in a merry twirl, Yeosang's laughter chimed through the silent chapel. 

Hongjoong placed him back down on his hooves gently, brushing his hair back for him. Yeosang's fluffy ears twitched in a cute response. 

"Here, I brought something for you from the market," Hongjoong said to apologise for the long day of loneliness while he was out working. Immediately, Yeosang studied the paper bag he was handed.

"You did? What is it?" He wondered as his fingers gingerly undid the bindings. An orange lily was tucked into his hair, just barely holding on between an antler and his ear. It complimented his tawny fur and hair.

Yeosang's eyes widened when he recognised the contents of the bag.

"Plums! And they are big, too! Where did you find those?" Excited, he rushed into his kitchen to empty the bag and wash his newest treasure. Hongjoong leaned his shoulder against a wall to watch him with a grin on his lips.

"Imported by a merchant from Swefnheim. Couldn't resist."

Yeosang's tail was vibrating with excitement. Its white underside looked even fluffier than the rest of his brown coat, which was specked with white freckles in a charming mirror of Yeosang's brown freckles around his nose and shoulders. 

"Oh, how dreamy Swefnheim must be if even plums grow there. I will make a pie out of these, then we can share!" Yeosang promised, giddy as he dashed around with clopping hooves. Hongjoong had to chuckle at his thrill.

"Sounds good. I'll get changed," he replied, stepping away while the faun bustled about. He dipped behind the curtain that sectioned their bed and bath from the rest of the room, tugging off his leather gloves and his mud-stained boots. He washed up briefly, grateful that Yeosang had heated the water for him already and it wasn't right out of the frigid brook near the graveyard. Once washed, his wound stopped stinging. Yeosang could put some salve onto it later.

"The food is almost done. Was your hunt successful today?" Yeosang called from the kitchen when Hongjoong stepped back out, tying his dark hair anew. In just his shirt and pants, he sorted their bowls onto their rickety table, hunting down two spoons. 

Hongjoong was a hyrde, a hunter of monsters. A vital job in Oìche Muire, where nightmarish beasts ran rampant every night to maul innocent farmers. Not that people had the mind to thank him for his grimy work. Everyone was busy trying to survive through the night.

"Hunted down a redcap today that was stealing the butcher's stock. And stumbled upon a banshee on the way back home," he reported while Yeosang carried their dented pot over to place on the table. They sat down to eat together, legs intertwining naturally. Since Yeosang was covered with fur from the waist down, he forewent any clothes, and his skin glowed in the homey candlelight. 

"Did you clean up?" Yeosang wondered, since Hongjoong tended to conveniently forget his sage sticks to send the souls of all those tormented beasts he killed into the otherworld. Yes, he knew they might linger and rise as yet another malevolent spirit if he didn't. But it was not as if the monsters ever got any less even if he did the rites properly.

"Wihtbanes were probably around. They've been conducting investigations of non-humans in town again. I rounded them."

Yeosang lowered his eyes. Usually, he would scold Hongjoong for not doing things right when Yeosang wasn't there to keep watch, but the reminder of the situation in town brought a grim sense of doom.

These were delicate times. Between famine and disease, monsters ripping into cows and sheep and fairies stealing children, everyone was out for themselves. Like Yeosang, other non-humans lived in the general population of their kingdom. But it wasn't uncommon to find their corpses dead in a ditch, stoned beyond recognition by wrathful humans who didn't trust any beast whatsoever. And since the monsters never seemed to diminish and fewer and fewer people wanted to become hyrdes and die trying to save the ungrateful peasants and their fields, the gazes in town were more malicious than ever. 

Hongjoong reached over the table to squeeze Yeosang's hand. The gentle faun had never done any harm, but he also got rocks and insults thrown after him every so often. 

"They didn't sort people out or anything. The church is pushing its agenda, but without an official directive from the queen, nothing will change. And you have me. I won't let anyone touch you."

Yeosang dared a hopeful smile. Hongjoong grinned back at him, firm in his promises. 

"Enough of the monsters, human or otherwise. What did you do today?" He changed the topic, and Yeosang shook out his ears before he nodded towards his cluttered work table. 

"I continued the embroidery on my new shirt and then I cleaned out your chest. What a mess," he snickered, to which Hongjoong rolled his eyes. 

"It's orderly until I'm in a hurry."

Yeosang giggled into his hand, his eyes twinkling and ears twitching with his playfulness.

"You are always in a hurry."

With a huff, Hongjoong relished another spoonful of Yeosang's delicious cooking on his tongue. Sweet as he was, Yeosang was also a mischievous being. Hongjoong was just glad when he was playful instead of miserable.

"Oh, and I saw a wraith outside earlier this evening. We should find out where it came from tomorrow. Can't be one of our corpses," the faun remembered, to which Hongjoong lowered his spoon.

This place was Droigheann, their humble home far away from any other civilisation where no one would dare bother them. Their abandoned graveyard beyond the town and its fields. Yeosang gave it this name when they first moved here, charmed by the stubborn bramble flooding the graves. People rarely stumbled upon the path leading here through the cursed Cealdholt, so wraiths were a just as rare sight. Hongjoong's presence protected their little haven compared to the bigger towns where hostility and jealousy birthed even more evil.

"Sounds like a job for tomorrow," Hongjoong agreed. 

Chapter Text

Hongjoong awoke with a tingle in his ear because of the banshee. He rolled around with a groan, found Yeosang hugging his pillow by his side while he read in his book. 

"Headache," Hongjoong mumbled at his questioning gaze, and Yeosang instantly slipped out of bed to prepare a soothing tea for him before he started his long routine of caring for his fur. While he brushed out his curly coat, Hongjoong sat at the table slurping his tea. After they ate their breakfast, he picked up his weapons he had cleaned before bed and collected a pouch of salt and one of finely ground silver powder just in case. A wraith was best appeased by putting the body it spawned from to rest, but best to be prepared.

Soon, Hongjoong had fastened all of his weapons around him. His gun around his thigh, his sword on his hip, his crossbow on his back. He stood at the door waiting for Yeosang while the faun darted around downstairs. 

When he emerged, Yeosang brought flax and mustard seeds. He was wearing his long grey skirt and his boots that were stuffed to mimic human feet around his hooves. His linen blouse was the splendid tint of the rare orange autumn leaves in their garden and embroidered with white asters.

"Pretty," Hongjoong commented with a smile, enjoying how Yeosang shyly spun for him to show off his hard work on the linen. When he stopped short with his cheeks flushed, his eyes wandered down Hongjoong's form, the dark ponytail, the undone collar of his white shirt and his suited vest and trousers that were the same gritty shades of brown as always.

"You look quite dashing yourself," he said anyway, making Hongjoong wink at him. 

The hyrde fastened Yeosang's cape around his shoulders and gently tugged his hood over his hair, making sure his little antlers were covered. Waiting patiently, Yeosang stood still for him when Hongjoong plucked some rowan from the tree next to their entrance and tucked it over Yeosang's ear.

"Ready?" He checked with the faun, and Yeosang beamed, effectively disguised as he picked up his woven basket and his big backpack in case they stumbled into a hunt.

They stepped outside into the perpetual gloom of Oíche Muire. It was autumn, supposedly, but the weather barely changed around here. Snow engulfed them in its deadly embrace in winter and melted during the rest of the year, but the sun never came out, and the darkness lingered with its cold and deadly touch all the time. The thick layer of clouds in the sky bled its bleak grey over the entire kingdom, only seldom lightening.

Their little graveyard was cosy, despite the monochrome haze. Yeosang couldn't cultivate any plants out here since everything died and passersby might catch on there was something worthy of robbing here, but he tended to the ivy raking over the side of their little chapel. The mosses were soft, and the earth not too marshy to sink into. Best of all: the air was crisp and fresh, and no dangerous people bothered them aside from the occasional ghoul. Hongjoong made short work of those.

"I saw her over there, near the edge of the forest," Yeosang said, pointing out the area for Hongjoong. An unusual observation. Wraiths never travelled far from their corpses, and Yeosang usually smelled it if people came close. Did an animal drag her in?

Hongjoong marched up to the forest line to scour the nearby thicket for a corpse. Yeosang subtly sniffed the air, trying to catch a whiff of decay. It took them a while, and Hongjoong was about to call it a day and watch the wraith first before wasting more time, when he spotted a gigantic bird's nest overhead.

Instantly, he grabbed onto the gnarly branches of its tree, swinging up onto it. Yeosang watched him from below, would claim he wasn't worried about him falling since he had witnessed Hongjoong climb much more precarious cliffs, but his hands still knitted into a nervous knot before his chest.

Indeed, a bloodied human arm rested in the nest. It was pecked apart by hungry beaks until pale bone shimmered through, two fingers missing, but the rest delicate enough to be feminine.

Even the crows here were monsters.

"Crows carried off some bits of her. Time for a fresh grave," Hongjoong called down to Yeosang before he tucked the arm under his cloak. No need to show the gentle faun the needless gore. 

When he hopped back down, his fawn looked pale around the nose, but he nodded. 

"I will leave the offerings here then. For the crow and the wraith."

While he spread out the apples and bread they got spare, Hongjoong grabbed their shovel from the cathedral and got to digging. A small grave since it was only an arm, but deep enough that no dogs would dig it back out. Yeosang found a nice rock to mark it, placing it on top of the dirt mound once Hongjoong was finished closing it. 

Satisfied, Hongjoong leaned on his shovel.

"Shall we go see Mingi to stock up and then see if our wraith shows up again at night?" He suggested, and his sweet faun nodded happily. 

They got to walking since owning a horse out here would only get the poor sumpter killed. It was a long trek into the city, almost two hours, but they always found ways to entertain each other. Hongjoong talked about his hunts, and Yeosang about his plants and his embroidery, and time passed in a flash. 

Soon, they found themselves on the main street leading to Deorctun. People traversed back and forth here, both toward the capital in the west and the fields gathering around the city walls like its own patchwork carpet. 

Deorctun was about the safest and yet the most dangerous place to be in their little corner of the kingdom. Full of pickpockets and bloodthirsty grumps, but also guarded by the city guard and its tall walls. 

Yeosang sank further into his hood when they passed folk dragging their oxen and carts past. Everyone looked similarly shabby and worn, just successful enough in life to survive but with no chance of luxury.

Hongjoong stuck close to Yeosang. It wasn't hard to tell who he was since he openly brandished his weapons, and the town guard knew him well enough to let him pass without a hitch. No one stopped them to question Yeosang.

During the day, Deorctun was hectic. People used the few hours of daylight to do their work, scurrying about with their faces hidden under hoods and hats. Non-humans like Yeosang were among them, and if they didn't want to get stopped by the church callers of the order, they best blended in by covering up. No one wanted any trouble.

But even in itself, Deorctun was a bleak place, like the entire rest of Oìche Moire. Overrun with filth festering in the alleys, disease blackening everyone's lungs, and poverty and famine turning friend into foe. Even Hongjoong had been attacked by regular civilians plenty of times. Queen Blodwyn didn't care too much who reigned over this place, so everyone was reduced to their baremost instincts. Even the rats attacked people when one came too close to their hideouts in the cracked cobblestone.

"Out with the devilish brood! The Three Divines are Humanity, Peace and Devotion! There is no place for creatures of yfel in our cities. Out we say!"

Hongjoong made a face at the obnoxious man hollering down the streets, targeting every non-human with his frantic eyes. Naturally, Hongjoong's arm came up to wrap around Yeosang's waist, and he pulled him along, away from the crowd that was gathering to cheer on the message of hatred. The stagnant air reeked of mould and unwashed skin here.

"I think the market is still in town today," Hongjoong said casually, winking at a girl who stared at him when walking past and she adverted her face with a sweet blush. 

Yeosang peeked at Hongjoong as soon as he finished talking.

"Can we go, Hongjoong? Please, I want to see if I can find more fruits," he pleaded with big, darling eyes. 

As if Hongjoong wouldn't do anything for him anyway.

"Eating all of my pay, hm? I'm in," he laughed, bringing Yeosang safely through the streets. Few were dull enough to bother a hyrde, both for their abilities to wield weapons and for their service in the protection of people. 

It still happened surprisingly often.

Hongjoong knew these streets like the back of his hand. He had hunted all sorts of creatures here, spent his own fair amount bleeding in the sewers until Yeosang came to patch him up. It was icy, and it was drab, but there was an undeniable charm to this place. A familiarity. 

The market bustled with life in the heart of Deorctun as if a bunch of colourful flowers had chosen to fight through the grey graphite only here. Merchants from far and wide came to trade their goods in booths decorated with colourful fabrics and merchandise, and the locals offered weapons and rye in return. They exchanged information about Queen Blodwyn's struggle to balance the protests of the non-humans against the demands of the church and how the tide was already shifting in the capital of Tir Sawol, where the queen resided in her palace. The Order of the Three Divines was demanding the banishment or extermination of anyone who wasn't born a human, and even half-bloods were afraid for their well-being now. Where the queen had yet to speak, the order and their resentful mobs were already hunting the peaceful beings among them who had done nothing wrong. 

Yeosang had always felt alienated from regular humans. He got blamed for the deeds of the promiscuous satyrs who seduced human women and drank wine better than human men, even though there were remarkable differences between a faun and a satyr. He had been bothered for looking different and resorted to hiding under his clothes long ago. Afraid of those who would throw rocks at his legs and tug on his antlers. 

And where was the line, really? The shapeshifters and magic-users among them moved freely, along with a few other intelligent races. They worked, they laughed, they cared for their families just like humans, even with their cultural uniqueness. 

But wasn't a vampyre also intelligent until the bloodlust took over? Wasn't a werewolf intelligent during three weeks of the month? Hongjoong killed those who made trouble, yes. But living with Yeosang, he had always found it hard to deem humans as the one superior race. They could be viler than many black dogs he encountered.

Yeosang was browsing through the market stands while Hongjoong watched the crowd for any suspicious movement. He nodded at the local guardsman and got a nod back, not trying to hide anything. 

One of the stands offered amethysts and quartz for protection, but Yeosang put them back down after he had picked them up, realising them as hoaxes. Anything for some easy coin, even if it cost lives, right?

It was a depressing town.

Hongjoong found the merchant from Swefnheim who had sold him the plums yesterday. The bearded man recognised him with a friendly grin, so Hongjoong pulled Yeosang over to look at today's offers. The fruits from the far west were expensive since most of the nature of Oíche Muire bore no fruit and little harvest. Swefnheim, the cradle of the Order of the Three Divines, was blessed by their faith and the only place in the entire kingdom that consistently produced healthy flowers, ripe crops and sweet fruits. However, being a quite exclusive place, it attracted all of these poor sods who craved paradise and some good food but would never get an invitation to occupy the limited places in the cloisters. Naturally, the very faithful were esteemed there, but the requirements to be ordained were high. And few were suited to such a life.

"What do you think of these cherries? They look sweet," Hongjoong pointed out, nodding at the shiny red baubles.

Yeosang was leaning left and right to see everything, unable to decide whether he didn't want to try the peaches instead.

The merchant chuckled together with Hongjoong while they waited.

"Yer wife, fella? She seems fond of fruit," he made small talk, and Hongjoong offered Yeosang his arm to stick close.

"You deliver rare treats, and she loves fruit so dearly in our dark corner of the world. Come, love, pick whichever you want, and I will pay," Hongjoong told Yeosang, and he nodded happily, warm brown curls falling into his eyes.

He picked a bag of cherries and two peaches, one for each of them. The price was equal to what Hongjoong would make for killing a banshee, but he didn't complain. Yeosang's happiness was his happiness, and he made money to give them a comfortable life.

"Have a nice day, ye two," the merchant told them with a sunny grin after he handed Yeosang a plum for free. The faun accepted it with a gasp, blushing to match his peaches under his hood.

"T-Thank you," he whispered shyly, mindful not to speak too much to draw no attention, but his gratitude came across.

They left the market after perusing the other stands, and by the time they returned to the alleys, people were already battering down for the evening and spreading fresh salt on their windowsills and doors.

"Let's see Mingi before nightfall so we can make it back home before the wraith slips away," Hongjoong suggested, though he would have liked to buy thread and fabric for Yeosang while they were here.

The faun followed Hongjoong deeper into the gut of the town, where they would find their acquaintance.

Chapter Text

Mingi lived in the labyrinthine alleys at the bottom of the hill dominated by the governor's castle. This was the oldest quarter of the city, marked by deteriorated, tilted houses in various states of decay that didn't collapse only because they could lean on each other. The pathways weaving between were narrow and harrowing, swathed in darkness even during the brightest time of day as not even the moonlight dared peek into the centre of misery. Only an occasional lantern next to a door offered a pale hue of direction, misleading as much as helpful. 

Hongjoong kept Yeosang close when they stemmed against the chilly wind howling through the streets and rattling rotten panes against thin glass. Every creak and every groan of the wood had Hongjoong's eyes dashing about. It was impossible to tell whether these places were abandoned or lived in. Home to countless spiders and maggots for sure, but how much else was still alive within these mournful walls?

Yeosang shivered. His delicate felted cloak embroidered with hours of his time didn't fit with the crooked cobblestone and the rancid water steeped in the gutters. 

Some windows were smashed to pieces, and plenty of doors looked crooked under some force that broke through the rusted hinges. Hongjoong spotted a rotting coffin to the side of the path, forgotten in the light drizzle of the rain. 

It was the ideal place to disappear in. Haunted by sorrow and odious creatures alike, few wanted to linger in this place. It was the home of smugglers and thieves, of satyrs and many other dubious figures that did best to disappear in the shadows. 

Mingi's house was one of those with a lantern out front. Hongjoong had memorised the shape of its cast-iron husk, drawn by the orange light trapped inside in a ceaseless dance. After a glance left and right into the scurrying, whispering streets, he hammered his gloved fist against the old door. 

A beat passed. Yeosang did his best not to quiver under his coat, and Hongjoong watched the break-neck flight of some bats fluttering down the streets. 

The door in front of them opened with a creak, exposing a narrow sliver of all-consuming darkness beyond. No one here dared ignite a light where others could see it. It meant that life was present, to both plunderers and hungry creatures.

"Password?" a voice grumbled in the dark, and Hongjoong huffed since the lantern clearly illuminated his profile enough to be recognisable, and yet the elusive merchant insisted on his anonymity.

"A silver moon shines over a grove of darkness," he replied.

The door swung open. Hongjoong slipped into the seclusion of the house, his fingers tangled with Yeosang's to pull him along. A moment later, the heavy door fell shut, and they stood in pitch blackness.

Heavy steps thumped to their right. Hongjoong followed, knew the staircase leading down, where Mingi could be comfortable doing his business. The steep steps groaned under his weight, had born many ages already.

Light greeted them downstairs in a corridor full of crates and barrels. The tall figure of a man moved in front of them, tugging down the scarf wrapped around his features and placing his hat on a table. His broad shoulders were dressed in a loose robe, tattered and mauled by moths, but it kept him warm from the chill of living below ground.

"Back already?" He asked Hongjoong in his rumbling voice as he opened the door to his workshop. Yeosang ducked in first, hopping over the tall threshold.

"Beasts are rampant these days. A miracle we didn't all get eaten yet," Hongjoong replied. Yeosang took off his hood to peer around the room, not here often, but he knew he was safe.

Mingi's workshop was a cluttered marvel of creative crafts. His distillery was ringed by bottles glowing in suspicious colours. Creature parts and plants gathered on a massive table in the midst to be ground to ingredients, and a fire basin to the left was rung by metal tools for smithing and chiselling.

Hongjoong wouldn't even dare to name half of the apparatuses he had here, some with curious round magnifying glasses, others with utterly mysterious tentacle-like wires. 

Mingi was a merchant of anything a hyrde could need. He supplied silver bullets, bottles of holy water, bombs, gunpowder and helpful salves and potions that aided in the battle against the sinister demons of the night. Where Yeosang specialised in the unique effect of various plants, Mingi etched runes into weapons and supplied the bolts that could take down even a black dog.

As always when he was in here, Hongjoong couldn't help but eye the dubious, rickety chair in the corner. Its wood was stained dark at the arm and foot rests, where heavy iron shackles attached. Chains dangled from the near walls, thick enough to tame an ogre. 

Not the usual equipment for a merchant who sent others to do the dirty work. But Hongjoong refused to speculate what sort of morbid hobbies he was enjoying in that place.

Mingi himself was a man as obscure as his craft. Full of unexpected facets and yet as elusive as smoke. He lit a pipe while his guests peered at his newest inventions, staring against a wall during his brief break. A scar split across his nose and cheek, nasty and deep, to tug his lips into a constant grimace. It made him appear even more haggard than he already was, looking more like death every day.

And who wasn't slowly dying of the disease that was life?

"I brought you what you asked for. Fifteen Redcap toes, freshly chopped," Hongjoong remembered as he retrieved the moist black leather bag from Yeosang's backpack. Mingi weighed it in his hand before he hummed, pleased with his loot.

"Perfect. Are you open for a ghoul hunt?" He turned to empty the macabre contents of his bag onto a table, and Yeosang studied the runes on the other side of the room, trying not to see more than necessary. 

"More ghouls? Feel like every second monster I kill is a ghoul," Hongjoong groaned. A chuckle came from Mingi's dark head of hair, streaked with silver like bullets through the night. He preserved the pieces of the redcap in a murky glass to place it behind a curtain in what must be a whole storage nook of gruesome specimens. 

Mingi was by far not the weirdest person Hongjoong knew. Their relationship was give and take.

When Mingi came back out, Yeosang subtly exhaled. He was playing with nervous fingers before his chest, looking too angelic to be here. Hongjoong would make sure to bring him back to his flowers soon so the faun could enjoy his cherries and his readings.

"Mhm, lines up with the posting that keep coming in. The order is seeking someone to help weed out the ghouls in the forest. Apparently, more and more are breaking into the graveyard in Deorctun. The order describes it as a plague of death," Mingi recounted. He was the eyes and ears for many hyrdes in the area. Passed on all the odd jobs since the barkeeps knew to approach him and earned his share of monster spoils in return. Working through him was easier than listening to every weeping widow out there to figure out whether her husband died of a beast or simple folly. 

Ghouls were an easy hunt. Almost boring. But Hongjoong could do boring. It meant he was done sooner to get back to Yeosang or enjoy the warm lap of one of the girls in the taverns. If the pay was good, he could put up with it. His current goal was buying better kitchen equipment for Yeosang's projects and fixing up their old dinner table.

"They keep getting more. I'll take it," he hummed, flicking at a curious clock Mingi had stripped of its casing to leave the gears out like bones sticking from a corpse. A moment later, Mingi held out a parchment scroll to him.

"Here are the details. Church's paying you for every ghoul you slay."

Hongjoong made a face, but he tucked the scroll into his belt. The church wasn't his favourite commissioner. Sure, they did some good, protecting people with their rituals and giving out food for the poor, but wherever there was blind faith, something sinister lurked in the shadows. Hongjoong got plenty of glares from members of the order, and if he had to pick a side, he wouldn't hesitate choosing Yeosang over their malice towards the non-humans living among them. 

But even the church needed help to kill ghouls. So Hongjoong would do it for some holy water.

Yeosang pointed at one of Mingi's notebooks that were thrown about, opened on random yellowed pages. This one depicted scribbles Hongjoong didn't recognise either. 

"What is that, Mingi?" His doe eyes peered up at the taller man, whose grumble softened almost imperceptively when he leaned over Yeosang's shoulder to check. The faun had a natural charm, a loveliness that was rare around these parts. He always smelled of moss and the woods, was pretty like a flower himself.

Hongjoong would kill anyone who put their hand on Yeosang, so he watched like a hawk when Mingi explained the curious rock on the table. It was translucent like glass, but a deep red glow settled at its core like a festering disease.

"I call it a Blood Gem. Still in the works. I try to fuse the blood of certain creatures into jewels to put into weapons, hoping to enchant them like a spell can. You can be my testers once I succeed," he offered graciously, and Yeosang nodded with awe.

"Gonna blow me up?" Hongjoong asked, and Mingi threw him a fleeting grin.

"I can probably repurpose your parts as well. But I'll be patient. Anything else you need today?" He stepped to his notebook for keeping register, feather in hand to note down Hongjoong's wishes.

"A bunch of bullets, opiates, a new dagger since I lost my other one in the guts of some venomous vermin and refused to dig, bolts for my crossbow and any leftovers of quartz you still have," Hongjoong listed without missing a beat. This was exactly what Yeosang had brought his huge backpack for, and he set it down now, sorting the fruits to the side so nothing would get crushed.

While Hongjoong would usually not allow him to carry anything, it didn't work any other way between them. Hongjoong needed to be ready to jump into battle anytime, and Yeosang was happy to help.

"Hm, quartz has been hard to come by this year. But I will get you the rest," Mingi told him, starting to bustle around in his variety of storage chests that made sense only to him. Hongjoong dug out his payment in the meantime, winking at Yeosang when their eyes locked. The faun smiled back.

A few minutes later, Mingi had everything packed. He showed Hongjoong each item and bulk to affirm its quality, even though Hongjoong had been buying his stock for years. Soon, money was exchanged, and Yeosang loaded up. 

"Take care out there. Weird times," Mingi told them when he opened the door to lead them back outside and Yeosang nodded to him in gratitude.

"You too," he said politely.

"I'll be back," Hongjoong called over his shoulder before they stepped outside and Mingi disappeared into the twilight of his workshop. His door slammed shut to leave them in the misty streets, alone with the withered buildings. 

Hongjoong checked on Yeosang, all bundled up and ready to go. Then he turned on his heel to lead them back out of the labyrinth.

They didn't speak anymore. The moon had risen into the night already, and the streets were so silent that it seemed the entire town had become a grave. Only a few lanterns illuminated their path, otherwise everyone had withdrawn into the shelter of darkness. All window shutters were drawn, and many doors boarded up. Warding glyphs glowed on every door, and salt shimmered on the doorsteps.

The people prepared for Dreor Rodor, the blood moon, every night. Afraid of the sinister magic it infused into the dead, of the powers it gave beasts. The tension in the air was heavy, alerting plenty of beasts to the smell of fear and sweat. Hongjoong strained his senses for every rustle and every movement he picked up on, ready to spill blood on the streets already steeped in it. Not even the cats dared their nightly calls as the moon bathed them in its pallid, deathly hue.

No blood moon rose tonight. But Hongjoong still made sure to bring Yeosang home quickly.

Chapter Text

"Our wraith is gone."

Yeosang peered up from his shirt, needle hovering between his fingers. He spun his thread to paint another picture, weaving life into the otherwise bleak fabric. 

Used to the routine, Hongjoong shook out his wet coat and picked up his weapons belt. He fastened his gloves around his forearms and picked up his wide-brimmed brown hat to keep the rain from seeping into his collar. The world blended into a wall of grey today, and he wasn't looking forward to wet socks. 

"Must have been that arm then. Poor woman. I hope she found some rest," Yeosang frowned. He had a bowl of cherries by his side as a treat, warm and cosy in his loveseat. His hooves were tucked under his body as he worked, and the plants turned their heads his way, attracted by his glow. 

"One day the crows will eat us all, I'm telling you. You expect a werewolf, but they strike first. Greedy bastards," Hongjoong muttered as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder. He patted down his bags, making sure he had everything he needed. 

"Are you leaving already?" Yeosang asked when Hongjoong turned to slip back outside after having checked on the near forest line for the wraith just now. 

"Hunting those ghouls, yeah. I'll be back in a few days," he grinned, and Yeosang nodded, trusting his estimation.

"Take care," he said, to which Hongjoong winked at him before he pulled the door open.

"I always do."

With that, he stepped outside of their little chapel in Droigheann to stroll the overgrown paths between the graves toward the city. Asking him to hunt ghouls in the forest was rich, since the Cealdholt surrounded Deorctun from the Blodbeorge in the west all the way to the Bluotsunft in the south. Plenty of space for ghouls to disappear in. 

However, ghouls were drawn to people or at the very least something they could devour, so they culminated around the outskirts of Deorctun. A long hunt, but Hongjoong would be happy if he could kill a dozen of them today.

With his crossbow drawn and resting against his shoulder, he wandered the streets, on the lookout for traces of ghouls. They had been a plague recently, digging up graves to feast on the dead every night. Not unusual for the ravenous fiends, but there was no end to them. Hongjoong killed one, and four others took its place. The graveyards knew no rest, and even Droigheann was starting to see the occasional ghoul. 

Not that they lived long, with Hongjoong nearby.

With a hum on his lips, he scoured the rotting forests, nodding at the occasional farmer with haunted features passing him. The decay of their kingdom hadn't just rotted the trees but also the hearts of every person living here. Under the bleak skies and hunted by creatures every night, humanity was fighting a losing battle. Even the animals were mad here.

Hongjoong usually didn't let it get to him. He had Yeosang to take care of, and despite his dangerous profession, it came with its perks. The pay was good, and he got to play the dashingly handsome hero instead of working in a mire. There were worse things than killing foul beasts that crawled from the underworld, ironically.

Hongjoong paused when a faint rustle from the forest reached his ears. Slow, dragging feet, a constant moaning and groaning like that of an old man with rotting joints. 

A quiet hand pulled the crossbow from his back. He could see the shape moving between the dead trees, dragging on two slow legs before crouching down and digging through the earth with jerky, unnaturally long arms. When the being found no food, it continued with the jerky movements of a wooden puppet that hadn't been oiled in too long, groaning about its hunger all the way.

Hongjoong levered his crossbow. Could make out the glow of yellow eyes in the dark now, the gnashing and drooling of sharp teeth surrounded by rotting flesh. 

His bolt struck the ghoul right in the head, throwing it off its feet. Its shriek was bone-chilling, probably alerting others to its need, but all the handier for Hongjoong. 

He dashed in to slam his boot down on that snarling, howling visage, stomping until the brittle skull cracked and only the foul-smelling yellow liquid their brains had melted into remained. The ghoul stopped moving only after that.

A good warm-up. Ghouls were an easy hunt, slow and dumb enough to dodge with little effort. So Hongjoong set out for the next one, trying to ignore how fallen leaves and tiny rocks stuck to the sticky surface of his right shoe.

His night was spent hunting ghouls all around Deorctun. He managed to get ten by the time the moon started its ascension through the night and then found another one right on the street back to Deorctun. After punching a bolt through its head and stomping around for a while, he called it a day, ready to wash off the viscera and crawl into bed.

Yeosang's words rang through his head, reminding him to clean up the spirits of the beings he killed so they wouldn't return as different fiends. So, honourable despite tired, he was about to dig through his pouches to find his sage stick to cleanse the air with when the clop of hooves accompanied by the rattling of a carriage on the road behind him made him glance over his shoulder.

Not too many people here could afford even one horse, not to mention a whole carriage to move like royalty. This one was well-suited for travel, with a vaulted roof and two black steeds pulling the weight of the expensive black wood. The polish to the intricate wooden carvings and decorations meant someone spent a lot of their time perfecting this beauty, and the silver linings and decorations on the elegant leather bridle looked expensive. Even the horses looked shiny, their fur coats brushed to parallel a night sky and their long manes cascading in graceful waves.

Hongjoong stepped aside to let the carriage pass, trying to look idle even while standing armed in the forest with the corpse of a ghoul at his feet. He thought the sway of the two lanterns would roll right past him to disappear in the drizzle, but then a voice called for the horses to slow. 

Hongjoong scratched the back of his neck as he stared at a tree, pretending that he was considering it for something. If he looked mad enough, they might just leave him alone.

But then the clop of the hooves slowed to a stop right next to him. Creaking wheels fell silent from their torment, and Hongjoong dared a peek at the coachman, unable to see his face under the brim of his top hat.

Before he could disappear into the forest to pick the dogs over interaction with some nobility searching the way to Deorctun castle, the door of the carriage opened. Briefly, Hongjoong could catch sight of soft seats cushioned with red velvet, then a boot lifted onto the narrow pedestal and a man stepped out onto the street. He was dressed in boots tall enough to hug the middle of his thigh, adding some heel to his dancing step. His long coat was closed by silver buckles and hugged his lean frame, lined with matching embroidery that must have cost a fortune. 

Hongjoong's eyes dragged over a simple silver cane and up the short cape hugging one shoulder of this person. 

He paused at the paleness of their features, thinking he was looking at a landscape of snow, before he realised this stranger was wearing a white porcelain mask framed by locks of just as white hair. A matching white feather bobbed on his tricorn, paired with a red one that suited the striking red brooch on his ruffled shirt. Tiny raindrops clung to his hair and the thick fabric of his coat as if to bedazzle him further.

Everything about this man screamed wealth and the arrogance that came with such wealth, down to the frigid manner with which he lifted his masked head and closed his hands over the cane in front of him.

And though they were strangers, Hongjoong was by no means unfamiliar with this specific getup.

A wretched Wihtbane.

The Wihtbanes were a distinguished noble family of hyrdes, hailed for their conquest against the creatures of evil. Praised by the order and the queen alike, they boasted more riches and influence over Deorctun than its governor, since their mansion was close by. Legendary heroes like Hongjoong's hyrde idol, the great Ascward Wihtbane, once fell gargantuan fiends and powerful witches under their banner. 

Now, they revelled in their lavish life of decadence in Maereholt and served the order like loyal dogs. Sure, they still hunted beasts, but their arrogance eclipsed any good deeds to their name.

Their masks were their symbol. Porcelain faces that left space only for their eyes to meet the world of those beneath them. Allegedly protection against evil charms and diseases, but they wore them on every occasion. 

Just what Hongjoong needed today. 

"Evening, my lord," he tried to be nice about it. After all, they did the same gritty job, just with the difference that Hongjoong had no blue blood.

His humour was met with a frigid wall of vanity.

"Your appellation and badge?" The voice underneath the mask was curt and clipped, not leaving room for any niceties or polite greetings. The man stood rigidly with his hands on his cane while the horses impatiently scraped their hooves on the swarthy forest road.

Supervised by the motionless pale mask, Hongjoong made a show of patting down his coat and pockets. His grimace was striking. 

"Blazes. Must have forgotten it at home," he pouted, so sorrowful to hinder this man after he chose to slow down his coach to bother Hongjoong during his work.

Not one muscle twitched. It was almost as if Hongjoong was staring into the face of some riddle-speaking creature instead of a person. 

"Your name, too?" He prompted, almost getting Hongjoong to roll his eyes.

"Aye. Long day, my lord," he replied instead, sugary sweet. When the Wihtbanes were working somewhere, disturbing them could get people thrown into the castle dungeons. But they had no qualms about disrupting someone who clearly knew what he was doing. 

The pale mask sighed. 

"Whilst we do esteem any succour in our war against the fiends, it ill befits civilians to meddle in the affairs of those trained for such work. Fortune may have smiled upon you this instance, but next time, your very life may be forfeit, leaving your family and loved ones bereft. Surely, you would not court such a risk, would you?"

It was too cold today for this nonsense. A chill was creeping up through the legs of Hongjoong's trousers, burrowing into his flesh and bone with spindly fingers. The sun would rise soon, and Hongjoong wanted to catch some sleep before he went back to hunting.

"It won't happen again. Good evening, my lord," he said, wise enough not to provoke someone with this high standing. His years of mafficking in the streets and getting himself into trouble were over. Hongjoong had something to protect now, and his mentor would be proud of him.

But this masked wooden spoon was set on wasting both of their time.

"Hold a moment! Surrender your arms. The bearing of weapons is strictly forbidden sans proper license. You might have suffered grievous injury, citizen," he spoke, lifting a gloved hand to point at the ground in front of him. The coachman turned their way, ready to pick up the loot wrongfully taken. 

So the great Wihtbanes couldn't even bend over to pick up an item? What a joke. People trusted them only because of their title, not for any actual proficiency. 

Hongjoong would even go as far as to question whether this well-dressed gentleman with his polished cane even knew how to kill a ghoul. He didn't look as if he ever got even a speck of dirt on him.

Hongjoong sighed. Just his luck to be dealing with their useless nobility.

When he straightened, the mask bearer dropped his hand, expecting Hongjoong to put down his weapons. 

Instead, Hongjoong ripped up his arm, pointing at the shadows beyond the carriage. He ripped his eyes wide open, recoiled in the fear befitting of a farmer who finished just one lucky kill.

"Oh no, a vampyre!" He yelled, full of dread. With that, he hurtled into the forest behind him just as those red and white feathers swished around in alert. Crashing through the underwood, Hongjoong didn't care if he attracted any more attention. Such a fanciful lord wouldn't chase him through the bushes. 

And indeed, after long minutes of racing through the forest, Hongjoong slowed his steps to strain his ears over the panting of his own breaths. Only the usual deadly silence echoed back to him. 

Almost too easy.

Slower now, Hongjoong stomped through the mud, making his way back to Deorctun slowly and painstakingly. Branches snapped against the press of his drenched shoulders, but he had been loud enough to assert his dominance in the darkness, and no other creature came for him. 

And though he grumbled about his misfortune under his breath, he would at least spend his night in a cosy inn soon. 

He would apologise to Yeosang for not cleaning up another body when he got home, but this time, it wasn't his fault.

Chapter Text

Hongjoong sighed dreamily into the steam gathering in the air above him. He was submerged in a hot bath from his chest down, relishing its revitalising cocoon. He was as if newborn, all sludge washed away to leave him in his natural form. A sweet smell of honey and milk shrouded him as if he were floating on a cloud, and while he preferred the scent of Yeosang's self-made herbal soaps, this was exactly what he needed after a night out in the rain. 

He had been dozing in his tub for about an hour, adding hot water twice to boil the stench of the hunt away, when a light knock on the door made his lashes flutter. His wet hair stuck to his nape, but he was wide awake when his eyes dashed to his weapons he left right next to the tub.

"Sir hyrde? I brought you a meal. May I enter?" A soft voice called from outside, promising no trouble, but he had heard the enticing calls of enough shapeshifters to stay on edge. Parting with his second home, Hongjoong got up to reach for a towel. He tied it around his waist before he stepped out of the wooden bath, brushing the stubborn curls out of his forehead.

"You can come in," he called as he checked on his clothes. They had been drenched anyway, so he washed them while he was bathing, but they were still plenty wet, despite resting next to the fireplace.

The door clicked open, and one of the tavern maidens ducked inside, quickly closing it again for his privacy. When she spotted him in his state of undress, a blush charmed the curve of her cheeks.

Their eyes had crossed when he had stomped into the first inn Deorctun could offer, soaked from the rain and stinking of ghoul. A sweet lass, dressed in a washed-out blue dress and with a head of dark curls. 

"H-Here, the ale is on the house," she said as she placed a platter with food on the small table before the fireplace. The meat was well-roasted and smelled heavenly to Hongjoong's rumbling stomach. A feast fit for a king.

"Very kind. Thank you, madam," he grinned a crooked smile as he picked up a redberry, one of the rare fruits that grew in their lands.

Her eyes kept dashing over to him, peering at his bare chest and at the weapons piled behind him, full of awe and wonder. She didn't leave immediately, so Hongjoong nodded at the second chair next to the table.

"I wouldn't mind some human company," he offered, and she immediately gathered her skirts in her hands to perch down. Her blush charmingly dipped down her slender neck and to her shoulders as she peered at him from under shy lashes. 

"You must be encounter so many sinister creatures every day. Is it not frightening?" She asked as he began eating, used to the questions. Many hyrdes were hard to get a hold of and hard to question. Grumpy folk, more obsessed with the next kill than with spending time with people.

But Hongjoong enjoyed the attention, especially when it came from beings much prettier than the ones he usually got slashed at all day.

"Depends on the day. I usually know what I'm doing, but sometimes, I run into beasts I never saw before and wonder why the gods created such vermin. Survived so far though, if that counts," he grinned at her, igniting a glint in her eyes when she giggled into her hand. She warmed up to his presence when he began to eat like any other person, enjoying the soft bread and the juicy squelch of the meat between his teeth. Well-seasoned. Maybe he should come back here sometime.

"Did you ever fight a werewolf?" The girl asked him, turning his way to watch him enjoy his food, and her stare was unabashed now, trained on the movement of his fingers and the flex of his shoulders.

"Plenty. One just outside of Deorctun, actually. Had teeth the length of my forearm. Claws like a pitchfork. Left this nasty scar," he replied, pointing out the four massive slashes over his shoulder and chest. They were an angry red, even years after the attack. The skin there was uneven, digging uneven canyons through his flesh, but the girl looked at him full of marvel.

"Oh, it must have hurt so much. May I?" she whispered, her hand paused in the air, halfway on his side of the table. 

The fire crackled before them, drying Hongjoong's wet skin.

When he nodded and leaned back to open his chest for her, she scooted closer on her chair, touching the scarred skin with the most cautious fingertips. Her touch was so light, so gentle, and Hongjoong relished it as she looked at him as an artwork produced by survival and strength instead of a pitiful wretch.

"Bled and fevered for days. Had to get infected of course, but I know my plants, so I could make a cure," he reminisced. 

Hongjoong remembered Yeosang crying over him as he patched up that wound, thinking Hongjoong might die and leave him alone. How Hongjoong choked on his rattling breath in the attempt to soothe him.

"Are all hyrdes this smart?" She wondered, peering up at his face since he had stopped eating, sated for the moment as her presence and attention on him ignited a different kind of hunger.

"Doubt it. Otherwise, we wouldn't die so quickly," he chuckled, to which she shook her head.

"You are very smart. Thank you for protecting our people," she whispered, holding his gaze as her hand slipped lower, caressing over his many other scars and the plane of his stomach.

A grin tugged at the corner of Hongjoong's lips when her fingers paused just over his towel in a silent question. 

"Someone has to protect the pretty lasses of Deorctun, no?" He flirted, leaning back in his chair when she slipped off her seat to sink onto the ground, cushioning her knees from the hard wooden floor with the folds of her skirt. She easily tugged his towel apart, and his hand found her luscious curls when she dipped into his lap. With a sigh, he relaxed into his chair, enjoying every moment of healing before he would have to step back out into the dreadful darkness.

-

After another night of hunting, Hongjoong counted eighteen ghouls to his name, which was a ridiculous number of ghouls in just two nights. They had always been the most vexing of plagues, but hunting this many in two nights meant there had to be hundreds out there.

Was the anguish and malice of Deorctun culminating now? Did every second dead rise for vengeance on the living?

As worrying as it was, it was good money for Hongjoong. Still, he wondered if someone was neglecting funeral rites or the graveyard care in Deorctun.

After killing a bunch of ghouls, Hongjoong paid a visit to the Church of the Three Divines to pick up his bounty. The ghoul hunt would be an ongoing job, but Hongjoong knew better than to postpone picking up payment. The commissioner could die, the ghoul plague might magically disappear overnight, or the job might be declared finished. 

So he brought in the leftmost finger of every ghoul as proof of his hunt. The leathery grey skin with long, protruding, yellowed nails caked with the dirt of their last hunt was a known sight to every scholar. Eighteen in total. 

The Order of the Three Divines was the most prominent religion in Oíche Muir and its surrounding kingdoms. Dedicated to the Three Divine principles of humanity, peace and devotion, which also doubled as their deities, they were by far not the oldest belief in this place deeply steeped with witchcraft and folk belief, but they earned the approval of the last few kings and queens and established their churches all across the lands. People found solace in prayer, and while it couldn't offer salvation, it could at least tell people that paradise awaited them in the cradle of their deities after death.

A bleak outlook for Hongjoong, having to die to be happy. All the more since he then had to kill the dead a second time since their age lingered into the beyond. But many people didn't ask for anything else but a distraction and, most of all: hope. 

And there was little enough hope out here.

The church grounds were surrounded by a steep stone wall that wrapped around the graveyard. The building itself was a grander version of Droigheann, a massive cathedral with tall spires and gargoyles perched on its flying buttresses. Its stained glass depicted images of a swan in flight, the sun and the order's symbol, a mistletoe; adding a splash of power to the otherwise gloomy structure. 

Hongjoong took a gander at the graveyard when he travelled through. He could see the dirt mounds under some gravestones where ghouls might have crawled from their resting places. However, he could only spot a regular amount of those between the statues of weeping maidens and resting swans, yet another symbol for peace.

So, was it the people dying on the farmlands and in the forests who didn't get anointed properly that now haunted the outskirts of town?

Several members of the order milled about, dressed in their long white garbs as they tended the graves and blessed the earth with their prayers and their sage. Hongjoong left them to their mumbling as he dipped into the church, leaving the heavy wooden door to fall back shut behind him. 

This was a proper place of worship, nothing like their home in Droigheann. Benches were lined up so people could attend the sermons, and a glorious statue of a golden swan with a mistletoe in its beak dominated the altar at the very nose of the nave. The silence was filled only by the mumble of prayers and well-wishes for people's own lives and their loved ones. Some townsfolk were present, but Hongjoong caught a good moment to approach one of the priests.

"Good hyrde. Blessed be your hunt," he was greeted by the elderly man in white robes. Hongjoong politely took his hat off so the priest could press a thumb against his forehead, leaving a spot ordained with holy water.

Hongjoong didn't believe, but there was nothing wrong in having a blessing up his sleeve. 

"I've been hunting ghouls out in the forest. To whom do I go for my reward?" He wondered when he put his hat back on and the priest showed him another door down the left wall of the nave.

"Descend the stairs and find a man called Aradin. He will give you your reward," he instructed, and Hongjoong bowed with a smooth swish.

"Thank you. Good day." 

With that, he departed through the door, slipping into the cool corridor leading down into the guts of the church. Torches illuminated the path and threw deep shadows into the corners hung with spectacular cobwebs. At the end of the staircase was another identical door, and Hongjoong pulled it open.

He was met with the scent of chemicals and decay, which made for the worst combination. Machines rattled, and a hammer was clanging on iron in the distance.

Most hyrdes were employed by the order and thus indirectly by the queen. Others served governors or towns, or even noble families like the Wihtbanes, for food and lodgings in return for their abilities.

This was the place to support them, where they received their equipment and their weapons, like Hongjoong did from Mingi, and where scholars taught them about the methods of finding and killing fiends. Plenty of hyrdes dawdled about to inspect odd new inventions for their craft while church members anointed their blades and bullets. Someone had dissected a merrow on the table to the left to study its innards, and steam hissed from the distilleries and other machines.

Hongjoong stopped the first priest he could catch in the bustle of people. The workshop seemed to stretch across the entire basement of the church, so he wouldn't go searching for one man among dozens.

"Where can I find a man called Aradin?" he asked, ready to leave so he wouldn't get mixed up with the hyrdes of the church. Not that many of them were faithful members of the order. Hongjoong just preferred his independency.

The man before him lit up.

"That's me. How can I help you?" His curious eyes knew that Hongjoong didn't belong to them. Wondered if he should bring a contract.

"Ghoul fingers, eighteen in total," Hongjoong said instead, plucking the pouch from his belt. With a nod, the priest counted them before he led Hongjoong over to a small chest for his reward. His pieces were fairly counted for him before they exchanged pouches.

"Thank you for your holy work," Adrian blessed him, and Hongjoong pressed his hat onto his head, ready to go home to his sweet Yeosang with more coins for their savings.

"I'll return."

Chapter Text

Droigheann was cast in mist once more. Swathing its secrets in an icy drizzle and covering the plants with a thin lining of ice-cold dew. The fog was stuck on the gnarly branches of the trees as if trapped by spindly hands, its swathes rising over the far mountains to the west. 

The first snow might fall soon. Made it easier to hunt, harder to survive.

Hongjoong made his way into the chapel, which perched on the hill like a gargoyle overlooking the graveyard. Tranquillity embraced him when he stepped inside  - that distinct feeling of home. Of safety.

"I'm home!" Hongjoong called loudly as he shook off his coat. He had wiped his boots on the grass outside, leaving them caked with dirt, but it was better than the stench of ghoul brains. Hongjoong left them to clean later as he made his way downstairs.

Yeosang was on alert in the kitchen, where he had been about to prepare a meal. When Hongjoong stepped in while undoing his belt, the faun routinely scanned him.

"Hongjoong! How are you? Any wounds?" He asked, reaching for his soothing balsams just in case, but Hongjoong chuckled.

"No wounds, but I won't say no to your fussing over me," he said with a cheeky grin before he left his weapons on a chest. His shirt stank of sweat after the second night of hunting, and he was pretty sure that only some of the stains on his pants were from food. So he pulled his shirt over his head in a slow movement, showing off his lean shape that Yeosang never properly appreciated, just searching him for wounds with those worried, innocent eyes. 

He didn't get a reaction today either. Yeosang merely ushered a pouting Hongjoong over to the bath so he could clean up first. His clothes were chucked into a bucket Yeosang claimed as his, even when the hyrde protested every so often that he could clean his clothes himself.

A few minutes later, Hongjoong was basking naked in the tub while the faun was kneeling on a chair by his side to run the sponge over his shoulder and down his back, washing him with gentle strokes. It didn't take him long to catch the telling red spots on Hongjoong's skin, too harmless to count as wounds.

"Aha. Someone found the time to have fun," he pointed out, and Hongjoong chuckled before splashing his face with water to wash the clammy layer of sweat off.

"Well-earned after that night. I was hunting the ghouls in the rain for hours and then ran into one of those wretched Wihtbanes," he sighed, grimacing at a worm floating on the water surface that must have been stuck in his clothes somewhere. Yeosang saved it to bring it back outside later. 

"Really? What was that like?" he wondered as he dried off his hands so Hongjoong could finish up, preparing a towel instead. His tail twitched cutely when he picked up his worm to check if it was still alive.

Hongjoong ran the soap through his hands to wash his hair. Deeply inhaled that distinctive scent of Yeosang and home. 

"He stopped me on the road after a kill and wanted to see my badge as if I was some amateur who killed a ghoul by sheer luck. I've lived here for ten years, Yeosang, I swear they only look at their own reflections in the mirror," he grumbled.

Hongjoong wasn't originally from Deorctun, though he counted Droigheann as the most homey place he ever had. Originally, he came from the Ascae Isilae, the cluster of islands in the Aefenbrim, the ocean to the northwest of the kingdom. A plague had been spreading from the coast, beginning to wipe out the entire population of the islands, forcing Hongjoong's family to flee. Then the vampyres found them on a night of a Dreor Rodor, and Hongjoong remained as the sole survivor. Taken in by his mentor as a child, he was brought to Deorctun and soon learned to fend for himself. Became a hyrde as he was taught and started earning his keep by killing the same fiends that killed his parents. 

Yeosang had lived here first, hiding from the people of the town since their evil eye scared him. A job brought Hongjoong to the graveyard by chance since he was hunting a nuckelavee that made these forests its home. He had been chasing the skinless horse through the forest for hours until it ended up here, trying to stomp down the doors to the cathedral. Yeosang had emerged with a torch in hand, ready to defend his haven, and together, they had brought the beast down.

The rest was history. Hongjoong moved in since he preferred Yeosang's company to the smouldering malice of the townsfolk. And Yeosang was grateful for his protection since he had been hunted by people plenty himself. Now, they spent their days in their cosy home full of striving plants and enjoyed each other's company. Though no castle, it was exactly what they could wish for. 

"They also must have been out to hunt ghouls. How queer. One would think they are too busy for petty jobs like that," Yeosang suggested as Hongjoong stood, pushing his hair back to step out of the tub. Yeosang handed him his towel so he could dry off, not shy about Hongjoong's naked skin since they had lived with each other for so long. 

Hongjoong slipped into a fresh shirt and some softer pants. Felt like a person again instead of a walking pile of monster gore.

"I killed eighteen ghouls in two nights. I think we have an infestation on our hands. Someone isn't tending the dead properly, or there is a necromancer about. I will dig around to find out more; otherwise we will drown in ghouls soon," he said when Yeosang made his way into the kitchen to prepare their meal. Hongjoong was starving after every hunt, but even more so for Yeosang's mouth-watering cooking.

"Not my preferred way to go."

"I'd also pick a merrow instead."

A light smack with a cooking spoon landed on Hongjoong's shoulder, making him laugh. Then he told Yeosang more about his job while helping him chop their vegetables. Every so often, he was fed a cherry since Yeosang preserved some for him, and they tasted sweet like a night off on Hongjoong's tongue.

After their meal, Hongjoong used the remaining hours of the evening to study up on ghouls to make sure he didn't overlook anything. Through the years, he collected a considerable amount of books about the creatures of this world and how to deal with them. He and Yeosang constantly scribbled their own notes for those who came after, but Hongjoong couldn't remember hearing about this many ghouls all at once unless a mass grave occurred in the area. Like a battlefield or an execution.

The chapel hugged him with its silence, tall arches looming over Hongjoong's lantern when he sat down at the table before the bookshelf upstairs. He put his own notebook aside for now, using the small circle of light to search for the right records. The gold lining on some of those book covers glinted as if luring him in, but he was looking for older, more worn pages. 

Once he found them, he settled in his seat, not minding the shadows whispering behind him, for he knew that no harm could reach them on sacred ground. Yeosang was happily tending to his plants downstairs, so Hongjoong relished the absolute silence as he turned the crinkled parchment in his hands. 

He found what he was looking for soon enough. Ghouls, the bodies of the dead reanimated by malevolent spirits who refused to pass over into the otherworld. Mindless husks of what they once had been, they didn't have the mental capacity to haunt those who wronged them like wraiths could. Instead, they followed their instinct to devour any flesh, dead and living, they could find. Usually, that meant they stayed near the graveyards they had crawled from to eat their fill until a hyrde stomped them.

Ghouls would only be found in other places if there was a grave for them to crawl from there. And like that arm Hongjoong and Yeosang found, people who died outside of graveyards and funeral rites usually couldn't afford a grave and returned in other shapes.

However, some other creatures had the ability to govern ghouls since their minds were so simple that they were weak to any psychic powers and could easily become the pawns of something mightier. All kinds of magic users had this ability; witches, warlocks, and the such. There were also necromancers, who specialised in reanimating and controlling the dead.

Hongjoong had heard of a necromancer near Deorctun not too long ago. People reported sightings of green will o' wisps in the Bluotsunft, the bog south of Deorctun. Apparently, a nuckelavee had appeared in the area as well, usually telltale signs of a necromancer's ominous presence. 

Could said necromancer be behind all these ghouls? What for? Raising an army against the living?

Hongjoong took a note of the passage speaking about necromancers and ghouls in case he needed to come back to it. It was an easy enough test. If the necromancer was planning something malevolent, there would be signs in the bog. Bones, dead bodies, perhaps even wards to keep anyone out.

An innocent necromancer had no reason to barricade their doors to the world since plenty of people appreciated their magical services.

Which meant that Hongjoong should travel to the Bluotsunft one of these days to investigate this rumour. Generally, necromancers counted as non-humans not actively hunted by the order, but Hongjoong would be employed for the slaughter if said necromancer was cooking up more sinister plans than mere trickery. They were treacherous enough not to show their faces in cities.

Hooves clopped on the stone stairs leading up to the nave of the cathedral. A moment later, Yeosang called over to his small isle of light in the darkness. Hongjoong's lantern fought the cold bravely, protecting him from getting swallowed by the night.

"Hongjoong? Will you come to bed?" 

Hongjoong closed his book and pushed it back into its spot. He blew out the lantern before he rose, catching Yeosang's figure at the top of the stairs. The moonlight hugged him in a pale cloak from behind, making him look ghostly and ethereal.

When Hongjoong marched up to him to pick him up around his waist, Yeosang threw his head back in a giggle when he was easily lifted. His warm, fuzzy legs wrapped around Hongjoong's waist, and he hugged him close when Hongjoong supported his thigh and back. 

"Are you tired, my fawn? Let's go to sleep," he suggested as he made his way downstairs with his sweet prize in his arms. Yeosang was cuddly in his arms, smelling sweet of cherries and woodruff. 

Hongjoong carried him over to their bed to place him down on it, making sure the faun didn't get his antlers stuck when Hongjoong lowered him into the cushions. Immediately, Yeosang rolled around, tail vibrating happily as he snuggled into his favourite pillow.

Tickled by the adoration in his chest, Hongjoong stripped out of his clothing to slide under their woollen blanket by his side. He blew out the remaining candles before he tugged the blanket over Yeosang's freckled shoulders, making sure he wouldn't catch the draught breezing through the chapel once the embers of their fire had cooled down.

Soon, they were warm and cosy, listening to the wind howling around the building.

"I will travel to the Bluotsunft one of these days if you'd like to accompany me," Hongjoong shared with him as sleep drew on him, luring with its sweetest promises.

"Really? What for?" 

"Apparently, a necromancer built their abode there. Might be behind all those ghouls."

Yeosang rustled when he turned around, then Hongjoong felt his fingers feeling for him and leaned into the touch. A moment later, Yeosang crawled into his arms to cushion his head on Hongjoong's chest, listening to the dance of his heartbeat with every rise and fall of his breaths.

"I'll come with you," he promised in a sleepy mutter. His curls tickled Hongjoong's skin like the fingers of the tiniest fairies, and Hongjoong pulled the faun closer with a pleased hum. After pressing a kiss against the antler poking his chin, he fell asleep with Yeosang in his arms, sharing each other's warmth in the coldness of the night.

Chapter Text

Hongjoong took Yeosang with him to Ashenmire the next day to save a child struck by a curse. Ashenmire was a village to the south of Droigheann and usually their first destination if they were in need of food since it was closer than Deorctun. The people there lived humble lives of farming, but they were used to the odd pair and welcomed their trade in their village. Yeosang's salves and medicines had saved many of them from harsh diseases, as had Hongjoong's blade when black dogs or ghouls appeared.

This time, the villagers had reached out first, sending one of their lads to fetch Hongjoong and Yeosang in the morning.

"We need help! A boggart has cursed our sweet Aylin, and now she writhes in pain. Please help us banish the creature and tend to her health," the boy had panted after running all the way to Droigheann.

So Hongjoong and Yeosang got dressed and set out to the quaint Ashenmire, which consisted of sixteen cabins with their respective families. Woodworkers, farmers, some fishermen. All good people in tune with nature and its creatures.

Most of the village population had gathered around the house of the local rye farmers. Hongjoong often traded warding plants for grain with the father of the family. They had four kids, Aylin being the youngest of a mere seven winters. When Yeosang heard the curse had struck her, he marched even quicker through the crisp morning air.

The crowd parted when they arrived, and though some of the women immediately flocked to Hongjoong to talk to him and explain what happened, he politely excused himself to enter the house of the family.

Their home was a humble abode, with wooden beams groaning under the weight of the old rafters carrying a thatched straw roof. The air was warm and dry from the raging fireplace, but the rest of the room was in disarray. Furniture was toppled over, and milk spilled over the floor. A book had been shredded to pieces, the torn parchment soaked by the milk, which scent pinched Hongjoong's nose with its rancid note already.

Heavy breathing sounded from behind the curtain dividing the sleeping nook from the main living space, and when Hongjoong and Yeosang stepped in, one of the family members immediately spotted him. A moment later, Aylin's mother rushed their way.

"You are here, oh thank the Divines for your speed. Come quickly." She rushed them over to the extensive nest that fit all of them, where Aylin's body was shivering and trembling in the woolen blankets. Her face was pale, her hairline pearled with droplets of sweat.

"How did this happen?" Hongjoong asked when Yeosang knelt by her side right away, opening his pouch to dig for soothing herbs. The tight circle of the worried family members loosened around them so they could work.

Aylin's mother clutched concerned hands to her chest, but she found the words.

"Oh, she tried to meet the brownie helping around the house. I told her no, to just leave the offerings out instead - bread and milk, you see - nothing unbecoming! But she was so terribly curious and wanted to see the brownie eat its meal. I woke up to her screaming about a hand in her face." She stifled a sob in her scarf when the girl whimpered in her sleep, curling around her agonised flesh.

And no wonder. Brownies were friendly spirits who liked to settle in households of their fancy. They cleaned up around the place in secret, shy and invisible, but easily fond if acknowledged and thanked indirectly. It was a custom practice to leave out gifts for them without naming the brownie's presence directly. But trying to find them could easily drive them to malevolence, and they turned into destructive boggarts.

"Is she terribly cursed?" Aylin's father asked Yeosang after he placed his hand on her forehead to feel her temperature.

The faun shook his head.

"She ate spoiled food. The boggart must have played its trick, but it could have done worse. I will brew her a soothing tea, but the food needs to come out, one way or the other," he diagnosed her, and immediately one of the siblings rushed off to prepare a kettle while another fetched a bucket.

Hongjoong lifted to his feet, trusting Yeosang's work and the people here.

"You take care of Aylin, Yeosang. I will find this boggart," he announced before he made his way back to the door, grinning at the concerned crowd gathered around the house and whispering about the worst fates known to man.

"Aylin will need some rest; then she will be back up on her feet. Boggarts rarely kill people, so don't be afraid," he soothed their fear. This exact dread of magical creatures was what narrowed the minds of the church. Many beings in their world could easily be dealt with and live among them, even without spilling blood. But in ignorance, people assumed the worst. And that was how the order was now squinting its eyes at even harmless beings like Yeosang. If the people didn't remember what they had been taught from the old legends, any non-human would soon resemble a threat to them.

"What a relief," someone muttered, and the others also unwound, leaving enough space for Hongjoong to slip through and start exploring around the house. Boggarts had their favourite hiding spots, and he already had a few ideas.

He rounded the building, searching the ceiling joints and the narrow nooks right where the roof linked. Peeking into barrels and behind the cordwood, he found some spiders, some mice, and even a lost children's doll, which he tucked into his belt. 

When he stumbled upon a tool shed, he slowed his steps. A horrible banging and clanging sounded from inside, as if someone was angrily smacking items against each other. And since the entire village's population was gathered around the house of the rye farmers, only a few options remained. 

Hongjoong strained his ears as he crept closer. Heard an angry voice muttering to itself, but the words were unintelligible, not forming proper syllables.

With a jerk, Hongjoong yanked the door open. For a moment, he strained to see into the darkness, could make out sickles and hammers flung to the ground and the glint of a saw buried in a wall. Then he spotted the hunched figure squatted on the workbench to his left, small like a toddler but with glowing yellow eyes despite the little light that crept through the gaps in the wooden wall. 

Hongjoong dashed forward before the boggart could react, snatching it right up by the fleshy folds of its neck. The creature sounded a protesting yell, kicking and clawing at Hongjoong's sturdy gloves.

"There you are, little man. Caught in the act, hm?" Hongjoong smirked in triumph, studying the long pointed ears and just as pointy teeth trying to gnaw on his fingers. Nothing remained of the peaceful and often even rather fashionable appearance of the brownies. This boggart snarled and drooled with its rage, plump body bare and spotted with mud.

Hongjoong gave it a gentle shake, not too hard so he wouldn't rattle that shrunken brain, but enough to make the boggart pause and realise it couldn't escape Hongjoong's grip. For the first time, it properly looked at the hyrde, still glaring, but at least paying attention.

Hongjoong rewarded its wisdom with a grin.

"You like this family, right?" He asked, since the fairy creatures usually understood human tongues, merely couldn't mimic them.

After a moment of upset scowling, the boggart gave in and nodded grumpily. It knew this family well enough to understand that Aylin was merely a curious child. The tricks of a boggart could easily get someone killed. A weapon fastened over a bed, a ladder taken away when someone wasn't paying attention. But this one played a relatively harmless prank.

"Wanna be nice and stay? Otherwise, I will have to kick you out," Hongjoong declared, to which the boggart begrudgingly gave in with another nod.

"Good," Hongjoong grinned. "Then I will put you down now, yes? You will turn into a brownie again, and I will have a word with Aylin. Deal?"

The boggart huffed, still prideful even when its rage simmered low. It had caused enough havoc to calm down now. As a reward, Hongjoong handed it the piece of honeycomb he had packed in the morning before he set it back on the table. Happily slurping up the honey, the boggart shrunk further until it measured a mere foot. Grotesque features turned into the elfin grace of an aged little gentleman, and angry grey skin turned back to its light shade. The brownie wore a distinguished green suit with the tiniest of pocket watches paired with an equally tiny top hat.

Hongjoong grinned at its peaceful smile and warm eyes.

"You look dashing like this. Farewell," he said before he turned around, leaving the brownie to its meal and to cleaning up the mess it made.

With light steps, he made his way back into the house, where the family had begun to clean up already. Aylin was no longer whimpering, and Hongjoong found her propped against the wall, nursing her tea with Yeosang by her side to keep her company. She was already looking much better thanks to Yeosang's care, and Hongjoong smiled at her when he handed her the lost doll he found outside.

"Boggart is taken care of and your home safe once more. What did you learn from this, Aylin?"

"To leave the brownies alone," the girl sighed, upset that she didn't get to play with the fairies, but brownies took their housework very seriously and hardly played with children like other fae did. 

"Correct. The brownies are fluffing your pillows for you and helping you keep your scythes sharp for the harvest. They are shy, so don't chase them down when they are trying to help, yes? Even if you know they are around, just pretend you don't," Hongjoong advised her, to which her siblings also nodded gravely. They all learned a lesson today.

"Yes, Sir... Thank you for helping me, Mister Deer," Aylin mumbled with an awed peek at Yeosang's beauty, and the faun smiled back at her.

"You are very welcome."

When Hongjoong got to his feet, he was immediately cut off by Aylin's parents.

"Thank you so much for saving Aylin, Sir Hongjoong. We are in your debt again. Let us know if you need anything," her father told him, pushing a pouch of grain into Hongjoong's arms as repayment. And though Hongjoong would have helped for free, he accepted their kindness. 

"Anytime. Let me know if other fairies play their mischief here," he replied. He brought the grain to Yeosang's big backpack while Aylin's parents assured the villagers that everything was taken care of and Aylin was in good health. Most took off as soon as the danger was banished, but Hongjoong got crowded by a few of the younger women who swarmed to him like brownies to honey.

"You are so remarkable, Sir Hongjoong. Well-versed in so many creatures. And so handsome, too," one of them complimented him, nudging a playful shoulder into his. 

Hongjoong grinned at their round, playing it off.

"Oh, please, ladies, I'm just doing my job," he promised, silver-tongued like a fox. 

Which enticed the ladies all the more.

"Your eyes are so beautiful. Like emeralds or maybe a summer meadow. I want to roll in them," another muttered, leaning close to peer into his eyes. He looked back long enough to make her blush and retreat shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Hey, why don't you accompany us to the hayloft? It's such a nice and cosy place. Spend some time with us before you go home?" The third suggested and while plenty of fathers would break out their axes at the idea of their daughters rolling around in the hay with a hyrde who would then disappear forever and leave them heartbroken, Hongjoong was favoured here and even counted as one of the better options in the area. 

So he didn't miss a beat to wrap his arm around a waist each, pulling their soft and pliant bodies into his sides. They giggled, immediately running their fingers over his weapons and vest, curious to explore the texture of each buckle.

"How could I say no to such a tempting offer? If that is fine with you, Yeosang?" He called over his shoulder, well aware that the faun could hear them on the other side of the curtain.

"No worries. I will be with Aylin and see to her speedy recovery. You have some fun," the faun snickered back, used to Hongjoong's gal-sneaking. 

"Well then, lead on, my beauties. I am all yours," he nodded at the girls, who giggled in response before they whisked him away for yet another, even sweeter reward. 

Chapter Text

In the evening, Yeosang and Hongjoong made their way back home. They stayed for dinner with Aylin's family, learning more about the brownie that lived in their household and how kind it usually was to the kids. Everyone was glad that Aylin was feeling better and that the brownie would continue helping them sweep the cobwebs on the ceiling. Hongjoong gave them the tip with the honey if they ever said something wrong. It could save the situation before it escalated again.

Soon, Hongjoong left Ashenmire with a wink at his three admirers, who stood with flushed cheeks and glowing eyes to wave him goodbye when they departed. Yeosang was covered by his hood and carried his backpack with all their handy equipment along when they began their march to return to Droigheann before the moon would rise. Hongjoong kept his hand on his gun as they wandered the forest in peaceful silence, both on alert for any sounds. 

As usual, the forest lay silent. A few crows were about, seeking corpses to pick apart, and Yeosang's ears picked up on the howl of a distant wolf once.

For the largest portion of their journey, they were unbothered. Traversing the cold embrace of the Cealdholt. 

They were about another half an hour away from home when they spotted lights down the road. Two carriages had halted in the dusk, carving a spot of life into the all-consuming darkness. Hongjoong and Yeosang slowed their steps, unsure if there had been an accident and someone needed help, or if this might be a trap by some bandits pretending to be stranded. 

But Hongjoong's eyes were trained to spotting creatures in the night. And he scoffed when he recognised no highwaymen but familiar white masks haunting the forest around their expensive carriages.

"Wihtbanes," he whispered to Yeosang, who also stiffened. It had been a long day, and neither of them was keen on a confrontation with nobility right now. They could figure themselves out if they got lost, but it was likelier that they were hunting something in the area.

"Let's cross through the forest before they see us?" Yeosang suggested since they knew every gnarly tree and every whispering puddle around Droigheann. 

"Risky, but maybe for the best," Hongjoong hummed back. He preferred the dark to some pompous lords wasting his time.

So they turned sharp left, about to disappear in the thicket and hope the nobles weren't shortsighted enough to shoot them for their noise, but a sharp call had them freeze in their tracks.

"Halt right there."

One of those pale masks stepped from the darkness a few feet away from them, barely visible in the night. A moment later, a servant came scurrying from the coaches with a lantern, illuminating the sneaky pair. 

"You again," the pale mask addressed Hongjoong, and the hyrde lifted a puzzled brow, keeping his expression innocent.

"Have we met?" He asked, keeping Yeosang angled slightly behind him. He was covered up, but best be safe. These people served the order.

"Two days hence, it was you, a knavish hyrde, quite ignorant of the proper cleansing of souls."

That was him again? The same man who had stopped Hongjoong on the road?

An ironic smile tugged at Hongjoong's lips as he bowed his head.

"Ah, my apologies, you eerie mask folk all look the same to me," he replied before his eyes fell onto a small doll by the man's feet. It had white hair and the same porcelain skin as the lord's mask, but it was cracked and tarnished with age. Its sweet white dress spotted with mud and torn at the hem.

Did it just move? Or did Hongjoong imagine that?

"What name do you go by today?" The lord questioned him as he beckoned his servant to hand him a notebook, scribbling along with Hongjoong's words.

"Hmm, Hongjoong," Hongjoong gave in. Too many people here, including Yeosang. He would have to turn on the charm to get back home today.

"Family name?"

"None of your business. I'm here to kill demons, not to have a tea party with you lot," Hongjoong scoffed. He had said more than enough for abruptly being questioned at night. Not as if he was doing anything unbecoming.

But the man paused, lifted that pale mask to stare at Hongjoong from fathomless black eye holes.  

"How vulgar. It is plain you possess no understanding of the proper decorum of this occupation, hunting unbadged and leaving rituals unfinished. Is that your good wife standing behind you?"

Hongjoong paused, pulling Yeosang behind him some more when the faun peered past his shoulder, curious about the Wihtbane in the elegant getup and his ugly doll.

"Leave her be. We are on the way home, and it's dangerous out here. You should know that," Hongjoong snapped, not risking Yeosang getting discovered by people with this much power.

The man nodded to himself before he turned in the direction of his servant.

"The road to Deorctun stretches afar yet. My servants shall escort your wife to her abode. I would like to pose a few queries unto you, Sirrah Hongjoong." There was a chill to his voice, and the servant was about to get moving to deliver the message to the rest of their company, but Hongjoong barked back.

"As if I'm leaving her alone with a bunch of men we don't know. Ask your questions and we will be on our way."

The Wihtbane beckoned his servant to stay, bringing up the notebook once more. 

"I gather, sirrah, that you remain unbadged since our last discourse. Therefore, I must reiterate that you have transgressed the laws of this land by bearing arms and dispatching monsters without due care. Your actions have engendered additional toil for us, and imperilled the populace by permitting malevolent spirits to once more roam free. Civilians best keep their fingers from the hunt. I am compelled to place you under arrest for conduct unbecoming."

Hongjoong had to laugh in disbelief. He didn't know who was hiding under that mask, but he sounded young enough. Hongjoong would bet that he had been killing banshees already while this cove was poring over the proper manner to eat.

But before he got to snap back, two other men appeared from the shadows, burlier with hard muscle wiring down their arms. They packed Hongjoong by each arm, wrestling him down onto his knees without leaving him a second to protest. The mud immediately soaked through his pants, and Hongjoong grimaced when pain shot through his shoulder as his arms were twisted onto his back to be bound. The idling servant began tugging his weapons from his belt while Hongjoong bit back his curses.

"This is what I get for doing your dirty work, huh... If I tell you nicely that I will do better, will you let us go home already? I have other things to bury somewhere, if you catch my drift," he gritted out, not veiling his sarcasm any longer. Yeosang warningly tugged on his sleeve, but the Wihtbane just shook his head to himself.

"You possess not the slightest notion of the hunt, being thus remiss in its pursuit. Madam, return home with haste, and exercise due caution upon your homeward journey, should you elect to travel unaccompanied. We shall convey your husband to the dungeons forthwith," the Wihtbane revealed, and Hongjoong stared at the little doll when it slowly toddled his way. Its eyes were sewn shut, giving it both an angelic and cursed look. What possessed it?

"The dungeons-!" Yeosang gasped in horror, but Hongjoong turned his head to him, giving him his best smile.

"Go home, my heart. I'll figure it out," he promised, had gone through worse and Yeosang knew that. He deflated, looking between Hongjoong and the Wihtbane in hopes of finding a valid reason to stop all this, but he had to give in. These men were too powerful.

"Fine... Please be careful," Yeosang pleaded with him, and Hongjoong nodded easily. 

"You too," he muttered. Yeosang had his ways of protecting himself, could veil his scent using ironworth and salts to ward off any fiends for tonight. Hongjoong hated the idea of leaving him alone and scared at home, but he couldn't do anything else right now. The town records would show soon enough that he was innocent.

So they let Yeosang go, and the Wihtbane even apologised to him for the disruption. Ironic, while he kept Hongjoong in chains. 

Soon, Yeosang was gone and only the servant still plucked at Hongjoong's rumpled shirt to make sure he hadn't hidden anything in it.

"By the Three Divines, just disarm the knave already. How many arms can he possess?" The Wihtbane demanded when he turned their way again just as the servant found another one of Hongjoong's daggers.

"Three dozen, apparently," he grumbled as he dropped it onto the pile. And how would a Wihtbane know how a properly equipped hunter looked like? They didn't carry a single weapon, just brought their men to do the dirty work.

Once Hongjoong was rid of all weapons, the two burly men also stepped back from him, leaving him kneeling on the ground to glare up at the arrogant lord with his notebook. The whispering darkness didn't unsettle him as he kept Hongjoong out in the open and unable to defend himself. 

So much for the great family of Wihtbanes. 

"Your cognomen? If your intentions are indeed benevolent, there shall be no need to extract it from you by the whip," he asked, and Hongjoong couldn't help his chuckle.

"What, now you are even doing the whipping? Perverse hobby for a monster hunter, don't you think?"

The Wihtbane was gradually losing his composure, but nothing on the outside showed it. Only his voice ticked into annoyance.

"Speak, lest I consign you to a cell, and trouble myself no further with your plight. You may ruminate at your leisure then," he threatened. And only because Yeosang was walking home alone and scared right now and would await him in Droigheann full of dread, Hongjoong grumbled out a reply.

"... Name's Ælfwig."

The Wihtbane took a note, then he paused when he realised the spelling.

"Ælfwig? Like Lady Maria Ælfwig?" He asked, tenser now. Hongjoong could feel the eyes studying him, finding only a dishevelled bounty hunter.

"Seems like it," Hongjoong shrugged. 

A short pause, then the Wihtbane handed his notebook back to his servant. The creepy doll was standing right before Hongjoong's knee now, eerily aligning with his leg, staring and yet not.

"So, you are an impersonator, too. And a poor one at that. Your list of transgressions lengthens apace. Lady Maria suffered the bereavement of her entire family during the Great Vampire Extermination, a decade and a half past."

"Not just her," Hongjoong grumbled to himself. "Listen, pale face. I am not your enemy. You do your job, I do mine, how about it? You can pretend you never saw me." He gave him a winning grin since it was clearly neither a badge nor a name this man was after. He just wanted a reason to lock Hongjoong up.

"I am doing my job. The apprehension of charlatans who impede our pursuit, and place themselves and blameless citizens in peril, is likewise incumbent upon me. This is not the time for heroic theatrics," was the hissed response. Then he beckoned to his two henchmen to pick Hongjoong up and drag him along to the nearer carriage. While he sauntered ahead with every step elegant and thought-through like a dancer, the Wihtbane barked his orders.

"Despatch a missive to Lady Maria Ælfwig. Some knave seeks to sully her virtuous reputation. You scurvy pest shall languish in the town gaol until the matter be resolved," he ended with a glare at Hongjoong, receiving an ironic grin in return.

"Oh bother. Any deaths in the lower quarters these next few days are on you, oh splendid lord," he said, just to rile up this uptight noble some more. Thought he was the fairy king because he could get people arrested, huh? Hongjoong would make him suffer. 

The fashionable cape swished around when his captor returned to his remaining family of pale faces. His red and white feathers bobbed with the breeze.

"Away with him! And should he persist in his caterwauling, see his mouth stuffed," he called, before Hongjoong was thrown into the carriage and joined by his two silent captors, who glared at him full of heat. 

He grinned back charmingly before he scooted aside when he realised the doll had climbed aboard too, struggling to sit on the lavish cushions by his side. And though Hongjoong wanted to enjoy the ride in the nicest carriage he had ever seen, he couldn't stop glancing at the eerie thing as it sat motionless next to him on the way to Deorctun.

Chapter Text

It wasn't Hongjoong's first visit to the town dungeons. He got in trouble over other small things before, mostly misunderstandings when he appeared at the wrong place at the wrong time. Once because it looked like he had killed a sheep instead of the wolf that dragged off its bloodied limbs into the forest and another time when a street pickpocket blamed him for the disappearance of a noble lady's fine handkerchief. He still felt her smack burning on his cheek sometimes.

He had lived in Deorctun and its surrounds for long enough that people heard his name and knew what he was doing. And how thoroughly he was doing it usually. That Wihtbane could dig around in his past and only find good deeds to his name. 

Still, Hongjoong was thrown into a bleak cell with rotting water saturating the crevices of the uneven rock floor, a lumpy straw bed and the only light reaching from the torches in the corridor. The ceiling dripped water somewhere, driving him insane from the moment he arrived, but at least he didn't see any mice excrements about, which was a good sign.

Hongjoong shared his corridor with other prisoners. While his cell bars unveiled the view of the mocking staircase leading back up into the world, others were less lucky. They moaned and groaned as their own sanity was worn day by day. Some yelled for their families whenever a guard came past; others babbled of demons and ghosts on their shoulders. Someone here kept hacking and wheezing for breath, probably infecting everyone else slowly and gradually until the government had a reason to throw them all into a mass grave. 

This wasn't the worst floor of the dungeon. This was where people got locked up for petty crimes, punished for negligence more than a real violation. Robbed of freedom, like children sent to their rooms after getting rowdy. A warning, more so than an actual threat to their lives.

Other floors were worse. Where the true criminals awaited their sentences, where murderers and arsonists were tortured, and where the sanity of poor women accused of witchcraft was worn so thin that their hysteria became the exact reason the wards got to brutalise them. 

Hongjoong didn't plan to be here for so long that he forgot what a tree looked like and how to speak in sentences. But with the hours came the boredom.

As that Wihtbane told him, Hongjoong had some time to think while he sat in the dungeons. And since there were few diversions aside from flirting with the torturers and executioners walking past every so often, Hongjoong did just that. Lean back to laze about and think.

And after his fruitful time spent thinking, Hongjoong came to a conclusion.

He still hated those Wihtbanes.

What was the point of having a noble family of hyrdes to protect their people when all they did was the opposite? Hongjoong bet that cove had yet to kill a single beast. Instead, he spent his time locking up those who did. 

Hongjoong spent four days in the dungeon eating stale bread and drinking water that smelled of piss until someone marched up to his cell. The ward's expression looked grim, like the faces of everyone here. Either deaf to people suffering or not so secretly enjoying their torment. 

A key clicked in the lock, then the door creaked open. Instantly, Hongjoong's neighbours demanded to be freed as well, but Hongjoong preferred to follow silently.

Two figures stood upstairs. One attired in a fancy blue uniform with badges on his chest and a dashing hat, which had to be the overseer of the prison. He spoke to a woman dressed in a brown cloak that hugged her slender figure and long limbs. A sword was tied to her waist, and her tricorn carried a white feather when she shook the hand of the main warden with her gloved fingers.

Hongjoong shuffled up to lean against the wall until they were done talking, grinning even when his hands were still shackled before his body. 

Her white hair was tied in a ponytail when she turned around, but the face between the long strands that had escaped their prison was still young. 

The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips when their eyes met.

"Hello, Hongjoong," she greeted him, and he bowed his head in a dramatic display, doing his utmost for these prison wards.

"Lady Maria," he replied, to which she turned to the warden once more.

"We are terribly sorry for making you come all the way here. We will be more cautious next time," the man rumbled, though he still gave Hongjoong an appraising look. The hyrde grinned back, sugary sweet.

"I will have a word with him about his practices. Farewell," Maria hummed, her voice quiet and yet demanding of attention. 

Hongjoong's shackles clicked open, and he stretched, finally free. He desperately needed a bath, and his stomach roared like a bear in a cage, even felt the same way as it clawed and twisted at his insides.

He followed Maria out of the dungeon and finally got to breathe some fresh air. The skies were a patchwork of grey clouds, as always, and the town stretched under the castle hill in the same depressing concoction of scepticism, disease and death, but it was freeing to be able to go wherever he wanted.

Which was Droigheann, to Yeosang. 

Maria held out a bundle to him. His weapons, retrieved from the warden's office already. The Wihtbanes never bothered checking on him after they flung him into the dungeon, but Hongjoong's predictions came true and he was free as a bird once more.

"Are you all right?" Maria asked him as he slung his weapons belt around his hips, having missed the soothing grip of the leather, the weight of his swords that decided whether he lived or died.

"This time I used your name, and they still locked me up. There is no winning. The Withbanes really have nothing better to do than meddle in everyone's affairs," Hongjoong replied as they made their way down the hill, past the castle walls and back into the pit of the regular people. Hongjoong's wrists ached from chafing on the heavy shackles, but that was nothing Yeosang's soothing touch couldn't fix.

"Which one caught you?" Maria wondered, taller than him as she walked the familiar roads with her face hidden under her hat and even taller yet with her heeled boots.

"They all look the same. White mask, white feather. Sounded young, though," Hongjoong responded with a shrug. He could hate them all equally anyway; he didn't discriminate.

But Maria chuckled quietly, as if she knew something he didn't. His curious gaze got her to talk.

"That must have been Seonghwa then. He's been taking on judicial tasks in Deorctun to maintain some order. A very promising young man. So dedicated to the people." She must have heard enough of him to make a judgment, and while Hongjoong trusted her deductions, he found himself scoffing at the thought of that man and the two times they met. Neither of which painted a good picture when they were meant to be brothers in arms.

"Dedicated to anything but the hunt, really. I was doing his dirty work and got locked up for it. I expect a formal apology for that. With flowers and everything," he grumbled as they reached the outskirts of town, steering straight for Droigheann where no one else would bother them. Too many curious ears in Deorctun. Maria might get recognised if she lingered.

"Serve a higher institution and earn your badge, then they can't lock you up anymore. If the queen doesn't suit you, you can also work for the order or join one of the hyrde creeds," Maria suggested to him, and it was the same tirade as always.

And in a way Hongjoong knew that he was at fault for getting into trouble. But his skin crawled whenever he got near the order; he couldn't serve the queen since he would have to force Yeosang to move for every bigger hunt; and the only creed in this area was the Wihtbanes themselves.

"Ugh, only to get shooed around for the upper class while regular people die every day. No thanks," he grumbled, and she understood. His reasonings were more honourable than those of the Wihtbanes at the very least.

Lady Maria was his mentor, the brilliant hyrde who found him on that night fifteen years ago when the blood of his family soaked into the dreamy white snow. The Ælfwigs were another noble family of hunters, distant relatives of Queen Blodwyn and thus her knights employed in the hunt of the kingdom's greatest threats. Eighteen years ago, it was a coven of vampyres who had bathed an entire town in blood. The very same town Hongjoong's parents fled into when disease robbed them of their home. Adlbearm.

Back then, Maria herself had still been a youngster. Hunting monsters only with her family, but already hailed a prodigy in their circles.

That night, she also lost everything. The entire clan of the Ælfwigs fell to the claws and teeth of the vampyres. Dragging them to the otherworld with them, until only Maria remained in the burning mansion the vampyres took as their own.

She found Hongjoong out in the snow. Weeping over the corpses of his parents and his brother, alone and afraid. 

And she held out her hand to take him in. 

Maria taught him how to fight. About monsters and good-willed fairies and about natural defences against danger. And though he was young, Hongjoong had no other purpose in life to turn to. He had nothing else to lose when he threw himself into quarrels with redcaps, when he wrangled a merrow in the water and when he painted runes on his weapons to scorch the flesh of any beast that attacked him. 

They were mentor and apprentice, sister and brother and, in a way, even mother and son when he quivered and wailed under his blanket at night, haunted by his nightmares of that day. Maria was the one who soothed him when he was tormented by the visions of his mother's decapitated head and the vampyre crouched over his brother's body to maul his throat until all life force left him. And in return, he clung to her when she got lonely. 

Maria was stronger than him. Steelier. So she grew into one of the most legendary hunters of their current time, employed by the queen as her knight. 

Hongjoong left for Deorctun after seven years of training under her wing. They still saw each other often, caught up and went on hunts together, but Maria served the kingdom while Hongjoong enjoyed his freedom. 

And that was why he kept getting into trouble. 

"You arrived quickly this time," he pointed out after the usual silent stroll through the woods, both of them equally tense. Maria wore a cape over one shoulder, a delicate choice for a hunter, but matching the courtly propriety of the white ruffled jabot spilling elegance down her chest. And while she was nobility, just like the wretched Wihtbanes, she fought with more grace than anyone Hongjoong had ever seen. 

"I was already conducting an investigation in this area. Seems like fate knew you would get yourself into trouble. I can tell you more about it once we are in Droigheann," she promised, and Hongjoong pricked his ears. If she was here, there was indeed something bigger afoot. Queen Blodwyn wouldn't send her darling bloodhound on a trivial quest.

So the chances were high that whatever involved the Wihtbanes on the streets of Deorctun so regularly right now also had to do with Maria. 

"Let's hurry to meet Yeosang then. He will want to see you," he grinned, blatantly admitting to his own yearning for the faun's gentle words and soft embraces. He must have been afraid these last few days, with no other person to go to while Hongjoong was gone and no idea when he would come back.

"I missed him too," Maria agreed with a fleeting smile.

They quickened their steps then, not interested in getting caught up in a hunt when they were so close to the clearing of the graveyard.

Overhead, the stars peeked through the clouds to shine them the path through the trees.

Chapter Text

Yeosang heard them coming before they even made it up the steps leading to the chapel. Maria had been marvelling at the bramble that was conquering the graveyard, trying to drown everything in a wave of black thorns, but she paused mid-sentence when the heavy door of the cathedral creaked open.

Yeosang stood there in one of his dresses in case anyone found him out here, and tears rimmed his dear eyes.

Immediately, Hongjoong sprang up the remaining stairs two at a time to gather the faun into his arms and pull him close. Yeosang sniffled into his shoulder when he pressed into Hongjoong's arms, quivering from the grasp of the fear and the relief.

"Sorry, I stink a bit right now," Hongjoong muttered into his hair, squeezing Yeosang with a firm grip to ground him, make him feel safe. 

And Yeosang exhaled stuttering breaths into his skin, clutching Hongjoong's coat for dear life.

"You smell awful," he agreed, making the hunter chuckle. 

When they pulled apart, Yeosang blinked at him blearily, so Hongjoong wiped his tears with a careful thumb. He hated seeing Yeosang cry because of him, inwardly kicking himself for not handling the situation with the Wihtbane smarter. Yeosang was safe here, yes, but loneliness could be as festering and malicious a foe as any werewolf or vampyre.

"I was so scared when they dragged you off. Thought they had enough power and temper to kill you immediately. Thank you for bringing him back so quickly." Yeosang whispered the last part to Maria, not surprised to see her here.

She smiled back at the quivering faun.

"He is infamous here, for better or worse. At the very least, my name can protect him."

Hongjoong shuffled Yeosang over the threshold of the chapel, not letting go of him just yet since the faun needed to cling to him right now, but he breathed in the air of home when Maria closed the door behind them. Yeosang must have been preparing food downstairs when they neared, since the scent of roasted acorns and sweet berries hung in the air, one of his comfort meals. 

Yeosang still pouted while Maria took off her cloak and her hat, so Hongjoong ducked an arm beneath his knees, picking him up in a smooth swoop. The surprise instantly melted Yeosang's frown, and he held on to Hongjoong's shoulders with a startled giggle. A glint returned to his eye, so Hongjoong grinned at him before he made his way downstairs with his treasure in his arms.

"I'll take a bath first so you two won't suffocate on the same table with me," Hongjoong announced as he placed Yeosang on one of their chairs. The faun was happy again, just glad to have Hongjoong back in one piece.

Maria rolled up her sleeves as she nodded at Hongjoong to go ahead.

"May I help you prepare supper?" She asked Yeosang, who instantly hopped back onto his hooves to add more food to his preparations. Maria took his orders to help him, catching up with him about life in Droigheann and any recent activities. 

Hongjoong was eager to get into the tub, discarding his shirt that had been clinging to him like a second skin. Yeosang had washed his other one already, so Hongjoong picked it up full of gratitude to set it on his pile of fresh clothing.

This time, the hyrde closed the curtain around their bath properly, sparing Maria an eyeful she didn't ask for. While he washed out his hair and scrubbed the film of dirt from his skin, his two companions found easy conversation one another. Hongjoong heard Yeosang laugh about something Maria said, and he told her about the Wihtbanes capturing Hongjoong in return.

Soon, Hongjoong no longer smelled of piss and sweat and stepped back outside to join them with his wet hair brushed out of his eyes. Maria offered him a plate of food, and he sat with them, digging into his first proper meal in too many days. Yeosang's cooking revived him like a dragon from a long slumber, and his body, which had been worn by the cold and the germs and ached from the hard bed, finally recovered.

After inhaling some sweet bread, he felt human enough to have a chat. So he nodded at Maria, who was eating with her back straight and fingers postured with a courtly grace, pale arms covered in scars but moving with a deceptive elegance.

"So, you are here on a hunt?"

Maria hummed, dabbing her lips with a handkerchief before she replied. Yeosang was trying to mimic her posture, furry ears perked at attention as he studied her mannerisms. Sometimes, he liked to dream of a life where he had been born into human nobility, with beautiful garments, elaborate artworks and expensive musical instruments all around him. He dreamed of an extensive library full of books where he could spend his time reading and doing his embroidery, and he dreamed of ballrooms and music, of the magic of dance.

Hongjoong never had the heart to tell him he would be a very different person if he had been born into such a life. That they probably never would have met if Yeosang were the spoiled son of some earl or viscount.

And that he preferred Yeosang's soft fur and his antlers over any noble blood.

But there was no harm in dreaming. It was one way to endure the toll of their miserable existence.

"Yes, I am hunting a vampyre. According to my studies, there should still be one remaining member of the clan that murdered my family. The Queen has permitted me to investigate," Maria replied. No sorrow crossed her calculating blue eyes. She came for a kill, not to wallow in old memories.

"You don't need help?" Hongjoong made sure, handing Yeosang the bowl of berries when he peered across the table to find them. The faun happily munched on them.

"No, you have plenty enough to do, especially with the Wihtbanes keeping an eye on you. Should I need you, I will reach out," Maria promised. The trust between them was unspoken. She knew how good a hyrde Hongjoong was, and he respected her independence. Though they saw each other at least once a year and enjoyed each other's company, they lost their attachment of the past when it was just the two of them against the depths of agony trying to crack their sanity.

"Will you stay in Deorctun for a while? You could lodge here," Yeosang offered, already looking around to find a suitable spot for her. Maria had always been kind to Yeosang, even when she first met him by Hongjoong's side. Hongjoong's moral toward non-humans and which ones deserved to die and which ones were people just like them had also been taught to him by Maria. 

"I will probably be on the road the entire time, but thank you for the offer. You turned this ruin into a lovely home," she hummed, glancing at the plants crawling over the walls and spreading out in every free spot of their living space. Their beauty must rival the royal gardens of Queen Blodwyn.

"What are you working on these days when you aren't taunting the Wihtbanes?" Maria asked Hongjoong while he finished his food, warm and happy after his unexpected holiday in the dungeons. The time there was quickly forgotten, and only a grudge against those white masks remained.

"Nothing much. A wraith in our garden, a banshee on the streets. Been trying to decimate our current ghoul infestation. Seen more of those than people in the last week," he recounted, and Yeosang nodded gravely. Hongjoong brushed the faun's cherubic curls behind his ear while he chewed on the last few nuts.

"That many? Do you know the source?" Maria had also leaned back in her chair, pondering the new information with her hand on her chin. Her sword was leaning against the table by her side, since no hyrde would ever part from their weapons.

"A necromancer is rumoured to have settled in the Bluotsunft. I've been meaning to travel there to find out more, but then those pale-masked fools showed up," Hongjoong grumbled. He couldn't exactly take revenge for their crude treatment since they worked for the same cause, but he would pay even more attention to not crossing their paths. He even had a nightmare about that creepy moving doll while he was in his cell.

Yeosang stood to get them another bottle of their self-made wine, one of Yeosang's biggest projects every year when the sunless grapes down here had ripened. It tasted earthier than most of the wines Hongjoong could get at inns, but he quite enjoyed the note. 

Maria accepted a cup as well, trying it before she crooned praise at Yeosang. The faun cheerfully left the bottle for a refill, curling up in his chair with his cup in his hands while listening to them. He had kicked off his boots, and his hooves peeked out from under his long skirt.

"A necromancer, hm... I've been meaning to pay a visit to The Weaver. Perhaps you should accompany me. Try to find out more about your necromancer before you walk into a trap," Maria suggested, and Hongjoong poured her more wine when she lowered her cup.

The Weaver. An enigmatic being with the ability to tell the future residing in a tower in Deorctun. They spoke in riddles, but they might have a trail for them. Hongjoong had never been there, but the royal family used their services plenty.

"Sounds wise, and they might know about your vampyre. Shall we depart on the morrow?" He asked both her and Yeosang. Maria would be on the hunt anyway, not resting until she found a trail to track down her prey. Her frightening willpower earned her the title of the queen's bloodhound, and Hongjoong was always overjoyed not to be on the other end of her conquest. Once she found a hint of that vampyre, she wouldn't stop chasing it until she could bring its cold, dead heart to her queen.

But Yeosang also nodded, in a rush more than Hongjoong, who could use a day of lazing around. If only his free time didn't cost human lives.

But how could he ever get tired of his work? If he laid his weapons down and decided to retire from the hunt, he would still know of their deaths. Would merely ignore the suffering right in front of him. 

No, those who swore themselves to the hunt would chase an unachievable goal all life. All while the shadows consumed them. The bags under Hongjoong's eyes matched those of Maria.

"Yes, please. I need to get out of here," Yeosang asked, restless after being locked up with his worries for a few days. 

Hongjoong was outnumbered, so he accepted his fate. He lifted his cup in a toast to their first journey together after many moons, and the other two joined him. 

"Tomorrow then. Let's hope the Wihtbanes aren't taking a leisurely stroll in town tomorrow of all days. You mentioned that you met them?" He turned to Maria again, playing with his cup while the alcohol warmed his blood and freed him from the dull headache he brought home from his prison cell. The last shackles fell off him.

"Plenty often. The Wihtbanes rank highly in the queen's favour and frequent her balls and other leagues that involve the hyrdes and their hunt. They are as one would expect. Nobles with their typical pretension and love for courtly games, yes, but they also know how to slay beasts."

"They actually do work? Or do they just pretend to know because Ascward Wihtbane gave them a good name?"

Maria had to chuckle at his grumpy response.

"I have been joined on a hunt by them once, and they worked efficiently and quickly. They are no heroes like Ascward Wihtbane, but they know what they are doing. And the queen funds all of their research and equipment, so they have access to weapons a rogue hyrde could only dream of," she replied, and Hongjoong begrudgingly had to believe her. Still, he wanted to see more monster killing and fewer politics from them. No point in being hyrdes if they then acted as coppers.

"I'll keep an eye on their work in Deorctun. See if they manage to improve anything or just live off the money of the farmers working here," Hongjoong muttered back, and this time, Maria refilled his cup.

"It's always good to stay keen, both for good and bad facets. And at the very least, they should now know to leave you be since you are my adopted child and my apprentice."

Which, in Hongjoong's books, gave him a closer status to the queen than the Wihtbanes many generations away from the hero who got hailed by the king of his time.

"Let's hope they get that into their thick skulls, yeah," he muttered into his cup before he emptied it in one swig.

Hongjoong would wait for a proper apology once he ran into the Wihtbanes next time. 

Chapter Text

In the morning, Hongjoong travelled to Deorctun with Maria and Yeosang to find The Weaver. Though their existence was shrouded in secrets to most, and their ambiguous character might be friend or foe to the hyrdes, The Weaver promised answers where usually none were. They had the ability to see into the future and beyond the enchanted veils of magic users; had knowledge of the world that no scholar could even fathom.

And though they were undoubtedly a creature of supernatural origin; like witches and fauns, they were no slave to their instincts. Their wit was highly lauded, as was their judgment. 

Though Hongjoong wouldn't speak of a legitimate moral compass when it came to The Weaver. At least not aligning with human morals.

Hongjoong never had the pleasure of visiting their abode himself, only heard in passing how some never returned from their tower while others came back as changed men. Some got enlightened; others lost their minds to the knowledge they uncovered. In the centre of the chaos, the weaver spun their threads, uncaring of the limitations of the mortal mind so long as each question came with the appropriate payment. 

With Yeosang's big backpack loaded on the faun's shoulders to carry any equipment that might be necessary to navigate the way to The Weaver, they entered Deorctun through the mists. Maria had her notebook in her hand, studying the clues she had noted on how to find the provident being. Hongjoong kept his eye on the townsfolk, catching any suspicious movement in the alleyways.

Despite being open to services, The Weaver generally didn't want to be found. They demanded perception and creativity from all those seeking them, shrouded themselves in a cloak of mysteries to all others. Hence, their existence teetered between reality and rumour, ever-elusive since few could sanely speak of having encountered them.

But Maria's step was determined as she led them through the labyrinthine alleyways of the inner city. They passed the steep stairs leading down to Mingi's abode, the abattoir, the cartographer and then the dyer. Hongjoong could swear that there was an easier path to get here, but he didn't question Maria's guidance since this route might just be their first riddle. 

Yeosang had intertwined his fingers with Hongjoong's. He was peering around the streets nervously, not familiar with these lightless passages that echoed their every step. The rowan in his hair added to his innocence as he leaned close to whisper to Hongjoong.

"Why is it here of all places? In Deorctun?" He wondered, keeping his senses trained on their surroundings. Something rustled in the gutters, dashing on quick little feet. Maria's cold and calculating gaze didn't waver.

"The Weaver themself isn't here. Merely one of the entrances to their lair is," Hongjoong muttered back as they rounded another corner. No light in any of these buildings. Were the inhabitants hiding away, or did this part of Deorctun house only death?

"A portal to another place?" Awe tinted Yeosang's voice. Hongjoong stepped over an old shoe, not risking kicking it away and startling the darkness to life with the sound.

"Another plane, more like. I don't think something like that exists in our world," Hongjoong replied. Though the rumours were too convoluted to pinpoint any specific information since they all contradicted each other, something so inconceivable that people lost their minds after encountering it was unheard of in their world. This mania spoke of a being so beyond the limits of human imagination that encountering it might unlock their vision to the greater universe, but also took away the sanity that bound them to their world.

Hongjoong had encountered many peculiar beings in his life. Beings that could charm and cajole, too. But none of them both broke and widened the minds of people.

"We are here," Maria announced in the hush of night, closing her book to slip it into the satchel on her belt. 

The little daylight falling through the buildings helped them make out yet another dilapidated ruin in the darkness. Stone walls had crumbled under the weight of time, and wooden doors rotted to a soft mush. This was the old clock tower, barely holding together and long past its purpose. Time had frozen on its black dial, as if the livelihood of this area had been dependent on its ticking. 

A fitting hideout for The Weaver. 

Maria stepped over the sad remainders of the door first. The dust here lay in a thick layer, untouched for many years. Spiderwebs hung right over their heads as arachnids ruled over the entire ceiling in their dusty empire. 

Yeosang pressed close to Hongjoong's side when Maria tested the sturdiness of the broken staircase. Bits of it had snapped off to form the landscape of the dust on the ground below, serving as the only items in the empty husk of a tower. When they began climbing, they could see the diffused light of the foggy day outside, peeking not through windows but through holes in the wall.

The staircase spiralled up into an abyss. Hongjoong could have sworn the tip of the tower had been missing from the outside, baring the skeleton of the building to the open sky, but when he looked up, the darkness only grew thicker. 

The echo of their steps followed them up the stairs. Hongjoong peered over his shoulder multiple times, but nothing dared show itself. The silence swallowed their every breath. 

When Maria stopped short, Hongjoong turned his head back to the front. 

A door barricaded them from advancing. A door entirely unbefitting of the state of decay of this tower.

The solid oak was polished to perfection, smooth and expensive like the gate of a noble abode. Golden metalwork streaked in delicate lines along its arched length, curving in spirals like the branches of a tree. The handle was unblemished by the touch of a person, its shiny gold begging for a feel. 

An illusion, undoubtedly. Most likely rigged as well, for a single touch might cast a terrible curse and lock them in the darkness forever. 

"A trap?" Hongjoong shared his thoughts with Maria, who pondered the door and the secrets it might unveil. Then she shook her head.

"No. I reckon we already entered The Weaver's lair," she muttered with a glance at the walls, sturdy and with each brick measured to perfection. The staircase below them was even and angled with the work of a master mason, and they left the stinging cold of the weather behind. Since when had torches lined these walls to grant them sight through the darkness? And who ignited them?

Yeosang's hand tightened in his. Hongjoong huffed a disbelieving smile at the magic that tricked them despite their keen attention.

"Then let's see what The Weaver prepared for us," he suggested grimly. Maria settled her hand on her pistol before she pushed down the door handle with the other.

Darkness greeted them. Hongjoong plucked one of the torches from the wall, not wasting their own oil if there was no need to. He held it high, and the fire bounced off the structures ahead of them.

A grand room, unfitting of the symmetry of a tower, greeted them. The torch couldn't reach past the piles upon piles of items towering to unfathomable heights. Chairs stacked upon chests stacked upon statues, all hung with sheets and plush dolls and all other matter of items in precarious constructions. Paths dispersed through the chaos, giving way to approach a telescope or a rocking horse, but removing even one of these treasures would send the entire tower toppling and bury them in an avalanche of sundries.

Yeosang stepped in beside Hongjoong, awed by the endless grandeur. It was the collection of an antiquarian, yet many times over. Pieces of gold lay strewn carelessly across expensive tables and magnifying glasses. Books hung over hat racks, and silverware peered out of woven baskets. 

"Incredible. How high must these towers go?" the faun whispered, wise enough not to touch anything. Hongjoong eyed a stuffed badger. 

"Echoes of the past, too many to count. It seems The Weaver enjoys collecting memories," Maria hummed. The door fell shut behind them with a resounding boom, although neither of them had touched it. Its breeze caught their napes in a shudder for a moment, then they found themselves alone in the darkness. Cut off from a way out, they willingly walked into this trap. 

Hongjoong held the torch high as he took the lead. Maria stayed keen behind Yeosang, not drawing her weapon since it might be taken for an aggressive gesture, but eyeing the odd shapes the towers of items assembled with as much suspicion as Hongjoong. A fright waited behind each corner, only to turn out to be a trick of the light, the leg of a desk shaping coincidentally with a pillow to create the illusion of a creature watching them.

For long minutes, they traversed the maze of items. There was no conceivable path to the other side of the sheer endless room, nor any other source of interest. More miscellaneous greeted them the further they went, getting lost in the meticulous chaos of this place. 

Yeosang held onto Hongjoong, not daring to utter a word. If there was a riddle to be solved here, it was well-hidden among these treasures. They couldn't even find a wall to seek a way out of. Time passed at its odd pace, only stirring more questions about whether it stood still here or whether waiting was the key to advance.

Hongjoong stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a noise. His hand came up, warning the other two to be silent, and they all strained against the endless corners of this room.

Something was rustling in the dark. The tapping of many feet, like an entire army of mice but scaled enough for them to hear it. It skittered through the darkness, throwing its echo from every direction all at once until the entire room seemed to crawl and skitter around them.

But nothing came into sight. The floors were void of any beings, and no tower clicked under the weight of a presence. Could it be some odd device that made such a noise? Or were these oversized rats that merely avoided the light?

Either way, it was their only hint of something else being in this room with them. So Hongjoong took a left around the next pile of items, trying to locate the source.

The noise sounded again. Behind them.

Hongjoong whirled around, pulling Yeosang into his side on instinct. Maria was itching to draw her weapons, but when they stared into the room behind them, only the same piles greeted them. The beady eyes of a stuffed bear glinted back at the light. And while magic was at play and this presence might well be invisible, why wouldn't it then also hide its sounds?

Tense, Hongjoong glanced left and right. They were trapped in this place, at the mercy of whatever knew its way around these towers. Was it hunting its prey? Nothing alluded to a beast with a hunger for flesh, but these might just be the spoils of past hunts.

The group kept shuffling between the items and peered into the blinding darkness. The items played their tricks on them, and one time, Hongjoong's heart almost stopped when Yeosang got caught on the corner of some painting next to them. If one tower fell, the entire room would come crashing, but aside from an ominous sway, nothing happened. Whatever gravity held these artworks down, it reached so high up that their movement at the base didn't even disrupt the tip. 

Hongjoong played with the thought of climbing those towers. Thought them bridges to whatever might be further up. But before he could share his theory with his companions, the patter sounded again, closer this time. It sounded heavier, as if more weight rested on each foot. And its echo travelled down now instead of up.

On the ceiling?

With a hasty jerk, Hongjoong lifted his arm, trying to illuminate the ceiling that arched so high above them they couldn't even see where it ended. 

The stomping stopped. Then a formless voice giggled from the blackness just out of reach of the torch, cheery and amused despite the frightening chase through the maze.

"Welcome to the Tower of Echoes, my dear visitors."

Chapter Text

A pale shape carved from the darkness, just above the circle of light. A round orb sat between two arms attached to silvery strings, like that of a spider dangling from the ceiling. But instead of a body and some sort of legs, a long corpus like that of a worm connected behind. The undulating, fleshy mass was adorned with more and more pairs of arms that clambered along the ceiling like a horrific, gargantuan centipede. The many arms tangled and tripped over each other, had too many joints, so little flesh that the bones stood out under the grey skin, but yet somehow moved the creature along on its threads. Hongjoong realised that the pale space without features was a faceless head, smooth and pallid like the rest of it. Long, silvery hair flourished all around, floating as if carried by an invisible wind to waft around the figure in waterlike suspension.

It was as the stories said. A being so incomprehensible, so alien compared to everything known on their earth. Giggling though it had no lips and moving with the speed of a spider though the many arms kept toppling over each other.

This was it.

The Weaver.

Yeosang cowered behind Hongjoong, terrified of the massive being that dominated the room. Despite the precarious piles of sundries, it moved with a fluidity that gave it away was the keeper of these treasures.

"Are you The Weaver?" Maria called fearlessly as the creature curled from the darkness. Their threads held it up as they stared at them without eyes, and their body disappeared into the darkness, too long to fathom fully. 

"Oh, how terribly formal! Call me Wooyoung, why won't you?" The mass moved, more arms coming to the front. Hongjoong's hand flinched to his pistol when he realised they were holding items, but then one of them pressed a mask to the blank head. Made of wood, it was painted to portray a laughing face, simple with two eyes and a mouth, meant to mimic human features. 

The other arms held more masks. An abundance of faces and emotions for The Weaver to wear. And though a shudder crawled down Hongjoong's spine at its attempt to appear human when the rest of it was so grotesquely inhuman, he figured this was better than staring at an empty orb.

"Wooyoung, sure," he replied with a fleeting grin. "We are here to seek your aid, so please bless us with your insight."

The cackling from the creature sounded like metal gears grinding into each other. Screeching, and blood-curdling and ominous. Hongjoong winced under its echo as The Weaver clambered closer, studying them with their painted eyes. 

"You know to compose words... But how about this?" One of their many palms rose with their voice, pulling a silvery string. Hongjoong's hand closed around his weapon immediately, slashing through the cord with his blade.

A doll had been attached to the end, dragged from somewhere under the towers full of belongings. It slumped to the ground without the hand that guided it, round black eyes in its white face staring unseeingly. It looked like a child's doll, with hair and clothes to resemble a person. Was it meant to hurt them?

But Wooyoung giggled again, stomping across the ceiling to be closer to the source of their entertainment. Their big mask loomed overhead, carrying the dusty scent of an attic that hadn't been visited in many years.

"Ohh, I see, yes, you are quick, you are agile. Succulent, with such beautiful eyes. But are you vigilant enough?" The Weaver teased them, ripping up two more of their arms, and this time Maria moved, shooting two other dolls clean in their straw chests. They drooped sadly when Wooyoung relaxed their grip, but their snickering was highly amused. 

"Two! Two hunters, oh, today must be my lucky day! The Divines blessed me, yes they did," they guffawed, definitely not a creature blessed by anything holy. 

Hongjoong kept his blade out when Maria also cocked her gun, keeping her sharp gaze on The Weaver and their every movement. They put on a different mask, one of porcelain that blushed with rosy cheeks, but didn't attack again. 

"A lady hunter, how beautiful! How rare. You would make such a gorgeous doll!" Wooyoung complimented her, cradling two palms around their head like one would do when charmed, but it looked so eerie, a poor copy of human behaviour. How long had they studied people to mirror their emotions? 

"Calm down. You wouldn't want to taste silver between your teeth, right?" Hongjoong called up to the ecstatic creature. The many arms hovered in mid air, holding on to the strings holding The Weaver while unoccupied. No more twitches, so Hongjoong lowered his blade.

The test seemed to be over, since Wooyoung merely giggled at his words. 

"This is exactly why you hunters are so delicious. One must peel you out of your leather and iron, take away your sharp sticks and hurtful silvers to find the most supple and delicious flesh underneath! Nothing quite like breaking open a ribcage dedicated to virtue!"

Hongjoong jerked back when something touched his foot in the darkness. His blade angled down, pointing right at another doll. It resembled a young boy, almost cherubic and sweet if not for the dead eyes plunging into the wooden head. When it didn't do anything else but look at Hongjoong, he peered back up at The Weaver.

"We are not here to slay you. We seek answers," he called, to which the worm's body coiled again, more hands moving across the ceiling to carry them. 

"Answers? Hmm, for an answer, you must ask a question," they spoke, switching out to a pensive mask. Hongjoong wasn't sure what kind of creature this was and how it might need to be slain if that was even possible, but he didn't dwell on it. Wherever they spawned from, they were sentient enough for a discussion.

"Do you take questions?"

"For a price!" Wooyoung giggled, triumphant to have tricked them. More dolls were peering past the piles of antiquities, slowly surrounding them. They were unarmed, looking innocent like the toys of children, but Hongjoong didn't trust their little feet in the darkness. Maria kept an eye on them while Hongjoong bartered with The Weaver.

"Which is?" He prompted, to which The Weaver pretended to caress their chin.

"Hmm... Hmm... Hmmmm... Do I want coin? Do I want your yfel weapons? Hmmm... I know! Give me your limbs! Let me shred them one by one until none are left! I will add them to my collection. I will turn you into something beautiful," they cajoled, and their voice echoed through the room in their sinister threat.

Hongjoong nudged Yeosang, who immediately opened his backpack to dig through pouches with bullets, provisions and weapons. When he found what he had packed this morning, he handed it to Hongjoong.

The hyrde held out the bouquet of hennebelles for The Weaver to take. Their dainty yellow petals stared back at Wooyoung with black eyes in their centres.

"How about this? You like these things, don't you?" Hongjoong offered. Would any item do? Or was it tied to memories specifically?

But the mask switched in a flash, putting on a face portraying laughter, but it looked just a tad too real, the skin mounted on the wooden base textured just like theirs.

"Ohh, yes, that is most sufficient. Ask your questions, hehehe, I will give you answers. Perhaps even the truth!" The Weaver plucked the flowers from Hongjoong's hand without stretching out an arm, just catching them in their rope. Hongjoong doubted this being could be defeated by mere bullets and swords more and more. He had to be cautious.

"What are you doing here, hm? Teaching people to raise the dead?" 

Yeosang had crouched before the dolls, stretching out a careful hand to them. Though they were hiding behind trunks and metal shields, they seemed shy enough to be harmless.

Wooyoung stomped around the ceiling in excitement. The hands brought the flowers away somewhere into their stash, handing them off again and again.

"Me? Ohh, you like me, handsome hunter? I am but a humble weaver; I merely give out information. For the right price!" Wooyoung insisted, so Hongjoong changed his question.

"No one's asking for a curse on the dead?"

Though Wooyoung didn't change their mask, Hongjoong could tell they were smirking.

"Many, good hunter, many. But which of those seek you, hmm?" 

One of the dolls timidly touched Yeosang's hand with its own. He grinned at it, and though they didn't speak, they seemed to have the personality of young children.

"There is a mage in the Bluotsunft. We suspect that they have been raising the dead. Can you tell us about them?" Hongjoong asked cautiously, but Wooyoung's voice immediately swelled to a screech. Their current mask showed a grimace contorted by rage, painted over eyes in a piercing yellow colour. 

"Kill them! Kill the necromancer, and I will tell you more."

A moment later, The Weaver giggled again, as if their outburst hadn't spooked all of them. 

Hongjoong tilted his head. 

"I don't kill unless they are evil." Had the necromancer done something to this being? If so, they might trade a favour for a favour.

This time, Wooyoung put on a crying face. It was helplessly drawn as if with the hand of a child, portraying a simplicity in the blue drops on its cheeks that contrasted with the sly manipulation of the head wearing it. 

"Ohh, and yfel they are! Bring me their servant... Unrightfully taken. Unrightfully used! He will be mine, and I will tell you more," The Weaver bargained. 

And what choice did they have? Hongjoong would need to find out more about the necromancer anyway. Unless they truly harboured malicious intent, he would have to think of a new question and a new trade.

When he checked on Yeosang, who looked endeared by the many dolls who slowly inched towards him, Maria addressed the hovering entity.

"I am searching for a vampyre in this area. Where can I find it?" She spoke, her voice strong and light. Wooyoung fumbled for their mask of thought, holding it before their face.

"A vampyre? I know no vampyres... But blood, I can smell the blood where he bit and tore and ripped limb from limb. Such a sweet smell... I wish he would share with me!" They cheered, clearly more aware of vampyres than they let on. So, was the trick to read between their words? Or was there a way to get the proper answers?

Maria tensed when this information already served her, and she wasn't asked for a favour in return. Some information had a different cost than other.  

"Where is that smell coming from?" She asked immediately, and The Weaver pointed their many hands in every direction of the room at the same time.

"North... Oh, an omen is coming. It will change your world. Dreor Rodor, Dreor Rodor... Fate has a pale face," they snickered before the hands fell. 

Maria's lips tightened. Where vampires were involved, Dreor Rodor was all too common of an occurrence. Higher vampires had a frightening amount of power.

The questions ran out. Hongjoong needed to get to that necromancer and find out how they related to The Weaver. So instead, Wooyoung turned their attention to Yeosang, who was helping the fumbling dolls to roll up their sleeves and brush the hair from their empty eye sockets.

"May I put you into my collection, sweet one?" The Weaver addressed him with a kindness like chocolate in their voice. So buttery and full of sugar, as if Yeosang's hunched figure woke some instinct to adore in them. The mask they put on was most frightening. It was an oil painting mounted onto the same wood as others, depicting a mother's fond gaze at her child nursing at her chest.

"Uhm... You mean to be friends?" Yeosang smiled innocently. He stayed where he was when Hongjoong's hand found his shoulder, warning him to be cautious. 

"Leave him, creature," Hongjoong warned The Weaver, to which they broke out in screeching laughter once more.

"Oh, hunters are such fun! Go! Do what you are supposed to do. Hunt. And when you return, we will speak. I'm so thrilled to have finally met you," Wooyoung giggled before they clambered away into the darkness, hundreds of hands rushing them off. The dolls also retreated, became one with the towers again, and a moment later, only their own breaths echoed back to the group.

When Hongjoong turned around to check on Yeosang, he spotted a gold-rimmed door behind them, carved into a darkness without any wall. The same one they had entered through.

"Seems like that is our incentive to leave," Maria said, and Hongjoong nodded, aware that he would be back soon.

Chapter Text

After their visit to the weaver, the group returned to Droigheann to rest from their preposterous adventure through time and space at the Tower of Echoes. The moon was near full, shining them an ivory path through the whispering trees of the Cealdholt. The cold crept after them with its frigid tendrils, trying to catch up so it could bring them into its deadly embrace, so they kept a swift pace, fleeing from autumn's first wintry touch.

Once the door to the cathedral shut and the darkness was locked outside, Hongjoong let go of a huff. Their walk left him room to sort his thoughts about The Weaver and their odd demands, and while the initial confusion about their peculiar character had died down, Hongjoong was left with more questions than answers. 

"So that was The Weaver," Maria ruminated as she placed her hat on the rack, undoing the red ribbon around her collar to allow her neck some air. Hongjoong helped Yeosang out of his cape before he flung his own coat onto the weapon's chest.

"What an odd entity... But the dolls were quite adorable," Yeosang shared his thoughts, not too alerted by animated dolls since magic would be only one of The Weaver's many talents. 

Maria chuckled at the glint in the faun's eyes. She skimmed fond fingers through his wispy locks, picking the rowan out of his hair while Yeosang fiddled with the leaf-shaped brooch on his cape when it got caught.

"The question is whether they spoke truth or lies. They seemed to like the flowers," Hongjoong shared his thoughts once they made their way downstairs to get some food into their cramping stomachs. Maria helped Yeosang around the kitchen while Hongjoong set the table and heated some water for a bath later.

"We have no other choice but to test it. I wouldn't trust such a creature blindly, but we can reconcile in a few weeks and share our findings," Maria replied, moving Hongjoong's weapons on the kitchen counter aside before Yeosang could burn himself on them. Although Hongjoong paid keen attention to wrapping everything in cloth before getting it anywhere near the faun, Yeosang could burn himself ever so slightly on warding glyphs and silver. A lot of the cleansing energy of the church directly went against the pagan magic of nature, hence the order's quick judgement towards any non-humans that reacted to certain items. But Yeosang was innocent inside and out. Innocent enough to forget every so often that he couldn't touch most of the things Hongjoong worked with directly. That was what his gloves were for. Which he also forgot plenty often. 

"You are leaving us already?" Hongjoong cleared his weapons away entirely. The cold was creeping through the walls today, so he started a fire, stacking the wood neatly before he flicked a match between the logs. 

Soon, they all sat around the table for their meal, and Yeosang munched on his vegetables. 

"I need to travel north, see if I can find the trail of the vampyre," Maria shared her plans. "And you should at least investigate that necromancer. The Weaver might not be able to give direct responses, but they might have set us on the right path already."

Hongjoong wouldn't push his help onto her. If she needed aid, she would be upfront about it. But most likely, she wanted to dig into her past by herself. Though the same vampyres had killed Hongjoong's family, he had been too young to remember much more than the trauma. Maria, on the other hand, swore vengeance that night. 

None of the vampyre clans associated with the murderers of her parents would get to live. They made a terrible foe.

"Will do. Then I will drop by Mingi's tomorrow place to stock up before we launch ourselves into the hordes of dead. I'll ask him to find out more about the necromancer before we slaughter an innocent person," Hongjoong suggested, and Yeosang nodded gravely.

"Be careful, Maria. Just in case The Weaver sent you into a trap," he asked nervously, but Maria's brilliant blue eyes wouldn't lose themselves to something as base as rage. It was such a dangerous emotion in their field. So distracting and consuming and blinding to the reality of their foes.

No, if this vampyre was truly here, they would be a higher vampyre. Stronger, shrewder and more experienced in the hiding of their sanguine crimes since they lived for longer. Maria couldn't allow herself a single misstep.

"Of course. I will report back to you two soon," Maria smiled at Yeosang, who beamed back at her.

Hongjoong would also gather information first before he rushed into this mission blindly. And if he was lucky, this necromancer might be able to tell him even more about The Weaver.

-

Maria departed early in the morning. She and Hongjoong got ready together, and he gifted her a bottle of holy water and a wooden stake to protect her on her travels. When they stepped outside together, they shook hands.

"Take care of yourself. Don't anger the Wihtbanes while I'm not around. I can't break you out again anytime soon," Maria told him with a grin tugging on her lips, and Hongjoong ruffled through his hair, pretending he couldn't help himself.

"Only that one fellow," he vowed, to which Maria gave in. 

Yeosang hugged her to say goodbye, gifting her some hawthorn to tie to her belt. She hadn't been with them for long, but his eyes still glistened suspiciously when he pulled back from her.

"See you soon," she promised the gentle faun, and he nodded mutely, would probably burst out into a sob if he opened his mouth right now.

Maria left first, and Hongjoong stayed for a while longer to console Yeosang. Soon, the faun wiped at his eyes and turned to the bramble, pretending he had been busy with it all along.

"I will make some marmalade out of the blackberries," he announced in a sniffled mutter, and Hongjoong patted his shoulder, couldn't help his fond grin.

"I'll be back soon. Stay safe." With that, he also departed on yet another journey to Deorctun before he would travel south with Yeosang. There was plenty to prepare for such a long trip as they would have to camp during the night and traverse the bog, so Yeosang got busy on that end while Hongjoong stocked up. It had been a while since their last big hunt, and while Hongjoong wasn't afraid of this world and could defend himself and Yeosang, it was ever risky to spend this much time out there. Especially since Yeosang tended to smell like a treat to plenty of beasts. 

On his way to Deorctun, Hongjoong heard something groaning in the woods, likely some stray ghoul or a wraith, but nothing dared onto the road. And since Hongjoong didn't want to dawdle, he kept his pace quick.

He made it to Mingi's home before nightfall, slipping into the darkness of its cellar once he was let in. Today, Mingi didn't look too refreshed, with dark circles rimming his eyes and his hair in disarray. The darkness of his beard shadowed his chin, and he dragged himself with slow steps, trotting as if his body weighed twice as heavy on his bones.

"You look rough, friend. Long night of booze?" Hongjoong guessed as he peered at Mingi's studies on blood gems, wondering if they could add a permanent effect on weapons, instead of dunking them into holy water just once. But surely, the gems would weaken at some point, so could they be used over time like candles?

"Aye, headache's still throbbing. What do you need today?" Mingi grumbled back at him, wiping up a suspicious red stain from one of his tables. Hongjoong didn't find it unusual.

"Any wards against the undead and a necromancer. Fire, probably. I should bring the holy water I still have... and a new sword, please; mine is breaking again. I can also need your help in finding out more about that new mage in the Bluotsunft. Tell me if you hear anything. What they do, whether they are evil, that stuff," Hongjoong muttered, grasping the bag of coins at his hip to test its weight. He had better days, especially if he was also hunting a necromancer in his pastime now. 

So he lifted his gaze to the parchments Mingi gathered on his very own bulletin board here. Behind him, Mingi shuffled around his workshop, which smelled of silver and ironworth, gathering some items on the table for Hongjoong.

"I will keep an ear out for your necromancer. And here you go. I did hear more about your ghouls. The Wihtbanes are conducting a large-scale hunt and invite hyrdes to join them," he mentioned when he caught Hongjoong's gaze skimming the newest hunts on a variety of banshees, black dogs and even a stealing kobold. Someone had commissioned a kelpie hunt, which was a bold move. Few hyrdes would voluntarily get mixed up with a kelpie, since they rarely bothered people aside from coincidental encounters. Folk were usually dead after meeting a kelpie in the wild and simply stayed clear. Might be interesting enough to find out if this person was merely looking for a trophy.

He was theorising about how someone could commission a kelpie hunt so much that Mingi's words took a moment to settle in his mind. Then he ripped the parchment off its nail and rolled it up to tuck it into his belt. When he caught Mingi rubbing fatigued eyes, he found the mind to reply.

"Glad to see them doing their work for once," he said in regard to the Wihtbanes. So they at least figured out that the ghoul plague was taking overhand and would start eradicating entire villages soon if the fiends weren't thinned out. Didn't sound like they found a source yet, but maybe it was for the best if they were occupied over there. Then Hongjoong could do his part from the shadows.

"Will you join their hunt? I can get you the notice."

Hongjoong was quick to shake his head, bringing out his coin purse so Mingi could receive his payment. Paying for a new weapon always hurt his precious savings, but he was cursed with constantly breaking his weapons on stubborn fiends.

"Oh, I definitely shouldn't show up there. Got myself in trouble with their cult recently. But I will keep an eye out for stragglers. Easy money," Hongjoong chuckled. He was still waiting for a formal apology from that pale-masked fellow who threw him into the dungeons for a few days, but while he was safe under Maria's name now, Hongjoong had the sneaking suspicion that the sheer humiliation of being wrong about Hongjoong's identity might entice that man into trying to get rid of him entirely. After all, Hongjoong might sing like a bird about his amateur mistake in capturing him. And the oh-so great Wihtbanes couldn't afford such disgrace to come out in public.

In a way, Hongjoong had power over that man now. If only he could recognise him under all that glitter and shine.

Mingi rubbed his chin, grimacing at the poke of his stubble into his skin. 

"Don't get mixed up with the wrong crowd. Yeosang will be lonely if you get yourself hanged," Mingi said, but it was only partly in jest. His eyes were reddened, dashing over to Hongjoong with the haste of one who was either developing an illness or suffering the lack of medication.

Not one to pry into his personal business, Hongjoong picked up his items and fastened them to his belt. 

"I will come back to haunt this cursed place until all eternity before I leave him here by himself. No worries, my friend."

Mingi swiped his coins into his purse. He flung it back into its corner, hidden among piles of other things but not locked away since he was around whenever anyone visited his home. 

"Good, then I'm assured. Good hunting," he replied with a yawn, and Hongjoong threw him a lazy salute before he turned on his heel. 

"Get some rest, Mingi. I'll be back soon."

With that, he stepped back into the night, pulling Mingi's door shut behind him to keep him safe during his sleep. He glanced across the skies which had reddened despite the late hour, casting a paint blush across the first stars.

With his lips set in a grim line, he ducked his head into his tall collar and scurried through the streets to disappear into the shadows.

Chapter Text

Originally, Hongjoong had planned to go straight back home and cuddle with Yeosang until they fell asleep. But fate had been spinning a different plot for him tonight, and Hongjoong found himself slowing his step when he caught the whiff of an unmistakable scent oozing from one of the alleys leading down to the graveyard of Deorctun. It smelled of rot and decay, of bile and metallic blood.

It smelled of ghoul. 

Not one to leave a ghoul in the heart of the town unattended if he was already here, Hongjoong took a detour, following his nose toward the church. At this time of night, its graveyard was empty of all members of the order, nestled between the houses like a breath of fresh air. The home of the dead, one of the most beloved and yet shunned places. For even people's loved ones took monstrous forms after leaving this life behind.

Hongjoong wandered among the pale gravestones, each unique and yet so similar. People brought the prettiest plants they could find in lieu of proper flowers, adorning the graves with fresh rowan and coltsfoot to show their affection. 

But did the dead ever care? Did they ever look back fondly on life? Did anyone depart from it at peace where others returned full of unbridled rage?

Soft grass bent under Hongjoong's boots. His hand hovered over his weapon, trying to make out any moving shadows among the lifeless trees and haunting statues that shed their never-ending tears. 

The scent brought him further into the heart of the graveyard, where a crypt burrowed into the earth to house the most important of rotting skeletons. Noble lords of the castle, governors and rich bankers lay buried here. A cast-iron fence offered the prettiest of barricades to the inside, but the scent undoubtedly originated from here.

Hongjoong peered through the bars of the locked door, trying to see past the sarcophagi tucked into the walls. Another staircase dug down from there, leading to more exalted halls. And while that meant the ghouls were as locked in as he was locked out, it also meant that the famous and the beautiful put to rest here would be the first to get gnawed on.

Hongjoong leaned against the bars with a sigh. Was it worth breaking in there? He couldn't care less about the bodies of some hailed authors and nobles, nor their respective wives and pets. 

But he was here. And he hated walking away from a job right in front of him.

So he rolled his eyes, picked up the dangling padlock and fiddled for a needle in his pouch to make easy work of it. Might be this ghoul only just rose. He could kill it before it could do any damage and then begone before the loyal returned to the church. 

The lock thumped onto the soft earth, and Hongjoong shouldered the creaking gate open. He plucked the axe from his belt to keep it by his side, advancing through the crypt.

The torches here were well-kept and ever-burning, casting the crypt into a warm hue that was most unbefitting of the bleak purpose of this place. Their flickers were playing tricks on Hongjoong's eyes, so he stayed keen for any noises as he ignored the scent of myrrh and incense to make his way past sarcophagi embellished with elaborate carvings. The origin of the ghoul quickly became clear. One of the humbler wooden coffins had splintered under the assault of clawed hands. The cushions inside were empty, and a trail of slobber and ghoul stench led Hongjoong further through the catacombs.

The staircase wound into the guts of the earth, so the hyrde stayed close to the wall as he made his way down on quiet soles. His free hand crushed some rosemary in his fist, masking his scent from any curious ghouls. After smearing it over his chest and thigh lazily, he peered around the corner into the lower hall.

Grand statues lined the path to a platform. The nooks that branched off displayed sarcophagi cast in warm light. Gold framed the expensive dark stone, and gifts of pure gold were arranged in loving displays around the names of poets, duchesses and esteemed heroes of Deorctun. 

Interestingly, not a single Wihtbane rested here. They had their very own mausoleum up in Maereholt.

Hongjoong studied the platform and the sarcophagus there. Its name read St. Galahad, the revered saint of the order and the founder of the church of the Three Divines here in Deorctun. A statue of the Three Divines hovered over the white sarcophagus, each figure robed with a gesture of serene prayer. The offerings before this coffin were fresh from the day: fish, fruit imported from Swefnheim and the last chestnuts of the year, rare even among the freshest treelines. Its luxury was tastelessly gaudy in the face of death, displaying unused riches while the children of the poor starved out in the streets. 

Hongjoong didn't dwell on it since he wasn't here to steal. Where was this ghoul?

The scent lingered here; that was for sure. But it had spread throughout the room, making it difficult to find the source.

Hongjoong grabbed a torch to light the dark corners behind statues and sarcophagi. Peered up at the vaulted ceiling to see if the ghoul had somehow got up there.

He was about to take out some meat from his pack to lure the hidden beast when he stumbled over a shadow behind one of the sarcophagi. Something had yanked apart the aged rock supporting the walls here, and the crumbling earth behind it was carved out into an approximately man-sized hole. It was too deep to see the end of it, so it might either lead into other graves whose scent lured the beast, or the ghoul might just have dug its way out from here.

Had the ghoul escaped? Where was it going? Surely, it could have broken open one of these other coffins for its first meal. 

Confused, Hongjoong rummaged through his pouch to try to lure it back with the meat since he might suffocate in the earth if he tried to follow this way.

Only to startle out of his skin when a hand suddenly landed on his shoulder.

"Zounds!" He whipped around, his axe coming up immediately to swing at the attacker.

But a gloved hand shot out to catch it mid-air, stopping him before he could spill blood.

Spooked, Hongjoong stared into two pale faces, thought his tired eyes were imagining ghosts now. 

But then the one in front of Hongjoong spoke, and his nagging was entirely too human and too vaguely familiar to be passed off as yet another wraith.

"It is beyond credence that I apprehended you in the midst of yet another transgression, scarcely after you regained your liberty," he spoke, and Hongjoong's lips twitched into a disbelieving grin. When he loosely yanked on his weapon, the Wihtbane opened his hand. They pulled back at the same time in an unspoken stalemate.

"You are that pale face; I recognise your voice this time. So you realised your mistake, yes? What a waste of Lady Maria's time because you couldn't listen," Hongjoong scoffed with a glance at the second person. Like Hongjoong's newest nemesis, they wore a white mask, though the golden decor was different from the silver swirls on the mask closer to Hongjoong. Their uniforms were largely the same aside from a few personal tidbits. The other person had longer, blond hair. Was taller and wore no cape but instead a dark cloak with golden embellishments.

At Hongjoong's gaze, they tilted their head.

"Who is this gentleman, Seonghwa?" The voice of a man came through the mask, muffled by the unmoving porcelain.

Hongjoong smirked at him, nodding his chin at the other one.

"An old flame. He never mentioned me? I'm so hurt, Seonghwa," he mock-pouted, breathing the Wihtbane's name with as much sensual promise as he could, if just to embarrass him.

Unfortunately, Hongjoong had no way of telling whether he flushed with shame.

But he could tell when a hand came up to brace against the mask.

"By the Three Divines, a scoundrel of a hyrde, or so he appears. His craftsmanship is most assuredly slipshod. I did recently confine him, yet he possesses connections to the Lady Maria Ælfwig," Seonghwa replied, and while his general demeanour remained calm, his voice was irked ever so slightly.

Hongjoong winked at him, leaning against the sarcophagus behind him to cross his feet over one another. The joys of relaxing while Sir Wihtbane had to stand stiff as his silver cane.

"The one and only," Hongjoong hummed with a glance at the creepy doll by those heeled boots. With its serene features, it looked pretty in the most frightening way.

But today, he also spotted a second doll. By the other man's feet sat one in the same fashion, with dark hair over pale, broken features. This one's eyes were open to stare unseeingly into the void, and Hongjoong had a hard time telling which of the two was worse.

"Pray tell, he must be her apprentice, then. She did take one on after the Great Vampyre Extermination, did she not? I have not set eyes upon him these many years," the other man hummed. He didn't offer Hongjoong any form of greeting, but he shouldn't expect too much from those who didn't even bother showing their faces to the people they claimed to protect. The air they breathed was sacred compared to Hongjoong's.

"Well, feast your eyes then. Can I get back to my work?" Hongjoong asked when he pushed himself back up, ignoring the initial claim of trespassing since he was only here to save someone from a ghoul. Corpse or living person, the Wihtbanes couldn't deny any longer that the ghouls were a problem.

But when Hongjoong turned around to ignore these two peculiar visitors and get on with it, the same nagging voice held him back. 

"What might be your business here? This is private land, you see."

Seriously, had any Wihtbane ever killed a creature? Did they even know that most of them operated like beasts and required crawling around in the mud to catch up with them? They acted as if their new standards had always been in place when all they did was blocking off actual hyrdes from their work.

"Ghouls don't seem to care about private land. I am trying to stop them from soiling your precious property any longer," Hongjoong explained with mock patience. He wished that anyone else had found him. Someone who might actually help him in this quest instead of being in his way.

And of course, the stiff cane tapped between Seonghwa's feet, firmly underlining his point.

"No one permitted you entry-" He began, but Hongjoong rolled his eyes at him, uncaring if that got him thrown into the gaol again. 

"Aren't you on the same trail? Then let's stop talking and follow it. While you argue with me, our ghoul is getting away," he hissed back, jabbing his thumb at the hole in the wall in case they thought he was just standing around for the joy of it. And indeed, the two masks paused in their unmoving existence, considering the scent in the air wholly anew.

Then, the blond man stepped in first.

"Allow me, good sir," he pleaded, so Hongjoong stepped aside, crossing his arms in front of his chest to expect their grand plan.

The Wihtbane muttered to the doll, guiding it with gloved fingers as it stepped towards the hole fearlessly. A moment later, it wandered into the earth, with no light and no hesitation. The small dark outfit disappeared in the darkness as the other Wihtbane rose to his feet.

Maybe they were handy after all. Should Hongjoong get one?

"We shall meet him on the other side. With me," the man spoke, and Hongjoong threw a quick glance at Seonghwa, challenging him to keep complaining and throw Hongjoong into the dungeon again.

But ultimately, the man spun on his heel to follow his companion, cape fluttering over his shoulder elegantly as they made their way back up the stairs.

Hongjoong trudged along since he had nothing else to do and he was curious about these dolls. And the slightest part of him was smug that this other Wihtbane took his side instead of that of his petty family member.

Chapter Text

Hongjoong followed the two Wihtbanes back out of the crypt only to find himself with Deorctun bathed in a red hue as if a wave of blood had washed over the buildings, the forest and the very sky itself. The shadows bloomed crimson, and every shape on the ground might as well be viscera. 

It wasn't the soothing orange and red of a rare setting sun. The stars specked like splattered blood across the skies, as if a god had been slain for all of them to see. The night was no longer a soothing dark blanket that kept them safe. Now, it was a suffocating red haze that permeated their lungs and brains with madness.

Dreor Rodor. The blood moon. 

The time when magic went rampant and the creatures of evil roared with their newfound strength. Terror would keep the townsfolk locked in their homes tonight, and anyone wandering outside risked getting mauled by even the smallest blood-thirsty cat, or, if they were lucky, one of the many beasts roaming freely since their boiling blood would make them feel invincible today.

The full red moon stared at them from the sky like the ominous eye of the cosmos. Picking its next victim until enough died to sate it. The morrow was still far, and the wailing of this night wouldn't stop until the moon reaped enough lives.

"Oof," Hongjoong made when he immediately drew his sword in favour of the torch, pulling his pistol with his other hand. The sinister red glow was bright enough that they could see, and it would stay bright while the skies revelled in their deadly entertainment with the people of this world.

"This is the reason one ought not rove alone in the gloaming, citizen," Seonghwa hissed by his side, as if he wasn't also out during Dreor Rodor. Hongjoong had survived enough blood moons to know to evade any living being at all costs since the moon could drive even humans mad from their fear. Surely, the Wihtbanes usually preferred to hide away in their luxurious mansion.

The other Wihtbane produced a small staff from under his clothes. It unfurled into a mighty spear when he screwed a silver blade onto its tip. The white-haired doll marvelled up at the weapon, unfeeling of the tension cutting through the air.

"You are quite safe in our company. Therefore, remain close at hand," the blond man ordered Hongjoong. They weren't about to let their prey get away under the red moon. And this much, Hongjoong could approve of.

So they were even more cautious of every movement of gnarly branches in the wind when they made their way around the area, seeking the exit to that ghoul's tunnel. 

They found the second doll on the outskirts of the graveyard, where a small park that barely sported any greens even in the warmest months of the year attached to the back of the church. The members of the order tried to grow apple trees here, but only sad, shrivelled fruit showed for it. A rat gnawed at the guts of a dead crow here, and its yellow eyes flashed full of bloodlust when they passed.

The doll was sitting next to an earth pile until the blond man caught up with it to pick it up. The scent of the ghoul drowned in the metallic stench of any Dreor Rodor, but the traces of claws ripping through the soft earth put them back on their trail. 

Hongjoong stared into the darkness with tight lips, wished he could batter down at home with Yeosang instead of being out with two strangers. But at the very least, these two fellows would be blessed enough not to go mad.

"What's the deal with those eerie dolls?" He asked as they slowly made their way out of the city and into the near forest.

Curious. Wouldn't a ghoul find plenty of food right here, especially on the graveyard?

"They are our assistants in this accursed chase, contrived to purify spirits upon the slaughter of a beast," the blond man replied, to which Seonghwa instantly sounded a grim chuckle below his mask.

"They possess a greater understanding of this endeavour than you, knave," he bit, and Hongjoong was getting closer and closer to committing the crime of demasking him just to punch whatever ugly face he hid below the perfect porcelain mask. Would he get hanged for that? Probably, but it would be worth it. 

"How do they work?" He asked, ignoring the blatant hatred oozing off Seonghwa to address the other man instead. The forest shrouded them in its secrets, echoing both the cries of dying entities and the mocking cawing of the birds that enjoyed their feast. 

"Their faculty lies in dispersing the lingering souls of the deceased. Instead of relying on incense or sage to purify the atmosphere and usher these spirits into the next world, the dolls perform this task for us. It is an antique contrivance of the Wihtbanes, which we may soon publicise for the benefit of all hyrdes. Perchance, you shall observe its workings this very day," Blondie graciously shared. 

Hongjoong peered at the doll toddling by Seonghwa's feet. It was dressed prettily like a child's toy, yet its cracked visage hinted either at abuse or some weird spells fused to it that allowed it to detect and interact with malevolent spirits without fracturing.

If this invention worked, it could ease a lot of work from the shoulders of hyrdes, who usually worked alone. There were many such inventions about, among mechanical weapons and lethal bombs of light to make the hunt easier as the creatures multiplied much quicker than hyrdes rose to the occasion. 

But why did it have to be a cursed-looking doll? Any animal companion would do just fine. 

"Fascinating... I will attend its functionality in that case," Hongjoong replied. Not that he would leave those dolls out of his sight anyway. 

Seonghwa turned his head, about to tell him some other grand information about their lustrous family and the genius inventors working for it, but their guide lifted his hand to make them fall silent. He crouched on the soft earth, running gloved fingers over the tracks there. The dolls toddled around the area with no apparent goal in mind as the hyrdes investigated the scene.

The ground was dug over here, fresh earth piling on old. Worms and other insects were awrith in the mass, resembling pulsing, living organs in the red light. 

Deep claw marks had dug around here, and no ghoul was in sight. But the stench of its fluid lingered, even if their eyes found no splatter of yellow puss in the vicinity. 

Seonghwa crouched as well, his shoulders stiff as he searched the area for the ghoul. No other trails from here. No body, no limbs. Where had it gone?

Something rustled in the dead bushes to their right.

Hongjoong's arm flew up first, pointing his pistol loaded with silver bullets at the moving vegetation. His sharp eyes tracked the shadow cowering in the darkness, straining under the red moonlight.

No sane person would be out at this time.

The Wihtbanes rose on quiet feet. Blondie pulled a white gun decorated with golden embellishments from under his coat. Seonghwa's hand tightened around his cane to be ready to defend himself.

The second the shadow parted from the trees to launch, Hongjoong's shot rang out. At full size, it was suddenly massive, covered in black fur and with pointed ears. Hongjoong saw the flash of massive canines, each as big as a blade. Then the werewolf was already gone, leaping into the forest at an incredible speed.

Hongjoong raced after it, hoping to catch a whiff of its blood, but he must have missed. The wolf was gone and left nothing but splintered branches behind. 

With a huff, Hongjoong lowered his weapons. The two useless mask bearers also relaxed.

"That collar is terribly impractical. You will get devoured," Seonghwa pointed out with a nod at Hongjoong's open shirt, his skin on bare display. And while it was boring to speak to an unmoving face, Hongjoong chuckled. 

"Sounds like a jolly time to me. But no, this is for the lasses. And an excellent decoy to get any bloodsucker close enough to run a stake through their chest. Even you couldn't help a peek," he pointed out smugly, caught the way Seonghwa's fingers tightened around his silver cane in irritation. Harder to play with, but still fun since the Wihtbanes thought themselves untouchable behind their masks.

"You're mad," Seonghwa barked, to which Hongjoong retorted with a casual shrug. 

"Worked out for me so far." Not his problem if the Wihtbanes refused to have fun in their family. What was the point of having all that money and power if one didn't get to enjoy it? Hongjoong would rather be in Droigheann with Yeosang then.

When he noticed the shape of a corpse in the dark, Hongjoong left his comment unspoken to crouch next to it. Massive teeth had ripped into the lanky body, leaving a gaping hole in its entire left side. Broken bones stood out like dead twigs, and the little yellow blood oozing from the injury stank of decay.

Blondie appeared by Hongjoong's side just as the hyrde rose to stomp the head. 

"There is our ghoul, huh? Must have been the wolf," he noted while Hongjoong ended its miserable twitching before it would get back up. He stepped back when the dark-haired doll toddled closer, halting next to the fallen shape. Though its little face was so innocent that it looked out of place, it was most fitting on this bloody night.

The doll just stood there, not doing anything notable, but Hongjoong could see how the air around it shifted as if gravity needed a moment to pause and reconsider its duties. The little light bent around an undeniable aura of darkness around the doll, wavering and writhing like a living being. 

Whatever it did, it was sucking in the remaining essence of the ghoul. Though usually invisible, it shone as a silvery white mist when it was sucked through the unnatural dark hue into the doll's unmoving body.

The moment lasted only for a few seconds, then the doll returned to normal. Blondie picked it up and then nodded to himself.

"That's it?" Hongjoong asked, still mystified by this mechanism or even spell, but the Wihtbanes looked as pleased as dead masks could look.

"Verily. No need for incense. It is merely a question of bestowing a benediction from time to time, to cleanse them of any lingering miasma," Blondie explained, and Hongjoong hummed to himself.

If he could get his fingers on something like that, he wouldn't have to worry about Yeosang's nagging while he was out alone. But did he want one of those creepy things near him at all times?

"I see. I'll keep my eye on any developments in the guild, then," Hongjoong replied, still creeped out whenever he glanced at the white doll's sewn eyes, but at least he could learn something about the workings of the Wihtbanes. 

Seonghwa crossed his hands atop his cane, staring at him from black eyeholes.

"You are capable of performing your devoir as a hyrde. I should prefer, nonetheless, that you absent yourself from iniquity," he spoke as if he were doing Hongjoong a favour. 

Hongjoong shook his head as he braced his sword against his shoulder.

"Still waiting for your apology, dollface," he said with a crooked grin, before he bowed mockingly before the two of them. It was high time he returned home to check on Yeosang. "After a night like this, the best way to warm up is burying your face in a woman's soft thighs. If you will excuse me?"

He was quite sure that at least Seonghwa made a face under his mask, not that he had proof. Because of course, a saint like him would deny the pleasures of the flesh for the sake of his work. 

Again, why have a big family name if it only meant a lack of life's joys?

"Away with you, knave, and cease your importuning of honest folk," Seonghwa hissed at him, while Blondie bowed a polite head. Too late for introductions now, they all looked the same anyway.

Hongjoong marched away through the forest with a chuckle on his lips and light steps. The red moon shone him the way back home.

Chapter Text

Hongjoong had to kill two black dogs on his way back home and heard the distant wailing of a nymph or a dryad getting murdered by some other forest dweller, but he could spot neither perpetrator nor victim. So he snuck past the odd hag claiming to sell herbs on the street in the middle of the forest during a blood moon and made his way up to their homey chapel nestled in the middle of the graveyard. After checking over his shoulder that no spirits were lurking in the shade to witness him entering this allegedly abandoned place, he hammered his fist against the door. 

For a long moment, silence echoed back to him. Yeosang most likely got spooked and was hiding somewhere, so Hongjoong knocked again, gentler this time. The night was gripping his nape with blood-smeared fingers, but he refused to let the shudders reach his heart.

A quiet voice called from the other side of the door, muffled by the sturdy wood.

"Who is there?"

Relieved that he was fine and safe during Dreor Rodor, Hongjoong leaned his shoulder against the cold wall. His arms crossed before his body to preserve warmth as he glanced across the overgrown graveyard cast in the ominous shine of the red moon.

"Hongjoong," he responded, trying to be quiet since he didn't need the frenzied creatures of the forest to pay them a visit. 

Suspicious silence. Yeosang was trying to gauge whether it was really him or some witch trying to get him to open the door. 

"Tell me something only Hongjoong could know," the faun then demanded, as was their protocol. No opening the door during Dreor Rodor unless they could be completely sure it was safe. And usually Hongjoong would just stay out until the morning if he was in town, but no inns were open for visitors during these nights either.

"I know that the flower embroidery on your pant legs was near finished when I left. Marigolds in orange and yellow," Hongjoong recounted while the wind ruffled through his hair, carrying the scent of death and blood from the forest. In the morning, the ground would be well nourished.

"And what was the first creature Hongjoong ever killed?" Yeosang called back, trying to sound stronger than he was, but Hongjoong still heard the slight tremor in his voice. The fear.

"A vampyre spawn."

That night, 18 years ago, when Hongjoong drove a wooden branch through a vampyre's chest in a desperate attempt to save his little brother from the teeth dug into his neck. But at that time, too much blood had already spurted from the wound. Hongjoong may have killed the vampire, but he also had to stand over the corpse of his brother with his throat ripped apart. The same red moon shone down on him then.

Shuddering, Hongjoong peered over at the only gravestones decorated with fresh flowers. These weren't as old; the names on them still readable.

He would pay them a visit come morning, as always after surviving a blood moon.

When he glanced back at the door, he could feel Yeosang's doubts oozing through it from the other side. The faun had yet to open one of the many locks.

Despite being locked out on such a dreadful night, Hongjoong had to chuckle. Yeosang learnt well.

"I could also tell you about that birthmark on your bottom right next to one of your white dapples. Or about how your tail twitches in your sleep when you have naughty dreams and-" Hongjoong began, only to make his companion squawk inside the chapel immediately.

"Enough! I'm opening the door," he shushed him, fumbling with the locks while Hongjoong pushed off the wall with a grin. 

A moment later, Yeosang opened the door a mere sliver so Hongjoong could slip inside. They immediately slammed it back shut to lock it, and Hongjoong studied Yeosang for injuries as the faun did the same to him. When they both found each other in one piece, Yeosang exhaled.

"Hello, darling," Hongjoong grinned at him when he tugged his coat off his figure. He shared their customary hug with Yeosang, gently patting him on his furry behind when the faun's ears twitched against his cheek in his joy to see Hongjoong. His fingers slipped under Hongjoong's waistcoat, making sure he wasn't hiding any wounds under the dark fabric, but then he exhaled into his shoulder when only Hongjoong's warm body greeted him.

"You're safe," he sighed, tickling Hongjoong with his light touches until the hunter playfully shoved him off. As soon as their reunion passed, Yeosang sent him his best frown, about as dreadful as a puppy. "I was worried about you when you didn't come home."

And no wonder. Hongjoong lived a life that could get him killed any day. It wasn't unlikely that one day, he wouldn't come home anymore, gored apart by some werewolf at the side of the street. It would be a lonesome death, and he would leave Yeosang all by himself. 

Every day was a gift, and they were both aware of that. And while Hongjoong tried to provide for Yeosang so he could survive once Hongjoong was no more, the emotional toll especially of these nights always cut into the faun's delicate soul.

So Hongjoong smiled, grasping Yeosang's fingers to tug him downstairs where they could see each other in the light. 

"You know me; I'm best friends with all those things out there. What have you been up to? No attacks, I hope?" Hongjoong asked, easing his mind with the distraction. Yeosang had kept some leftovers for him, and he ushered the hyrde to sit down and eat first while he prepared a bath. A few moments later, Hongjoong was happily munching on some bread and enjoyed the taste of life. Yeosang made that marmalade he had promised, and it tasted absolutely heavenly.

"None, I strengthened the glyphs when the scent in the forest changed and the animals started going weird. We'll need to stock up on salt soon," Yeosang reported while folding their freshly dried laundry. His ears twitched at a distant howl, but nothing rattled their little chapel. Despite its age, its sacred halls still warded off all evil.

"We can visit Ashenmire one of these days." Hongjoong licked the remaining marmalade from his fingers, not wasting any drop of it, and made a face when the distant taste of the earth he had dug through still lingered. He should wash his gloves too.

They switched positions when Yeosang started brewing some tea, and Hongjoong slipped into the tub. He took his gloves right with him, scrubbing the dirt and gore out of them. 

Yeosang seemed pensive as he peered toward the stairs leading back up to the entrance. His messy curls hung into his eyes when he lowered them to the tea after, unaware of Hongjoong watching him like a hawk.

"I hope Maria is fine out there. That the Weaver didn't send her into a trap," he ultimately muttered, distracted by his thoughts. Hongjoong wished he could peer into his head to know all the lovely things he pondered about, but his human abilities ever limited him. 

So instead, he flung his gloves over the near chair to dry and rested his arms on the edge of the tub. The fire warmed his bare shoulders as he watched Yeosang.

Dreor Rodor was a tense occasion for everyone, and Yeosang suffered under it more than Hongjoong, even when he wasn't on a hunt. He often mentioned migraines from the weight of the magic in the air, or his animal instincts taking over like they did for every other living being touched by the moon's wrathful smite. Only that Yeosang's instinct was skitterish and afraid compared to those of wolves, ghouls or even humans. He dreaded every noise, every trick of the shadows. Back when they had only just met, he had still cried and hidden under his blanket whenever a blood moon rose. This current courage grew because he trusted Hongjoong and their protective wards. But that didn't mean that deep in his heart, he didn't feel like prey about to be devoured.

Hongjoong smiled a sad smile at him when Yeosang shook off the looming dread. Some things couldn't be cured, and it didn't help that Yeosang associated the blood moon with running for his life when he was still a child since no one would open their doors for a non-human during those nights. He was swift on his hooves, despite his usual clumsiness, but he had enough scars to show for the times he got captured and fought vicious teeth. 

Because he didn't get aggressive under this magic. Didn't seek to kill and bathe in blood. Down to his deepest instinct, Yeosang was entirely innocent.

But humans only cared for what they saw, cruelly shooing him away. 

"I wrote down their every word to try to make sense of it. They even predicted this blood moon. What do you think they meant with 'fate has a pale face?' Themselves?" Yeosang babbled, and Hongjoong leaned back in the tub to entertain him. 

"I ran into the Wihtbanes again yesterday. Seems like they were trying to warn me about them," he sighed into the warm air. His muscles felt as if they had disintegrated into the warm water. Swathed in its embrace, he soaked up all the warmth to combat the chill of the crypt and the forest.

At least the news distracted Yeosang, because his ears perked again when he looked at Hongjoong.

"You did? Were they still angry at you?"

It was almost ridiculous how Hongjoong encountered the Wihtbanes only from a distance a handful of times in the many years he spent here. And now, suddenly, he met them weekly for the newest gossip. What would be next? Tea and biscuits in Maereholt? They had all the dolls to play house together, too.

The thought made Hongjoong snort to himself.

"Seems like Maria left enough of an impression. They overlooked my breaking and entering on the graveyard to hunt down a ghoul. Weird night altogether," he summarised; didn't want to scare Yeosang with his tales when he had been tense enough all by himself here. 

When he stood from the tub, Yeosang handed him the towel from its resting spot near their fireplace. It was warm when Hongjoong wrapped it around his shoulders. 

Soon, he was dressed, and though they couldn't allow themselves to sleep while the moon still wove its wicked magic to enjoy the bloody games of each maddened performer, his eyes burnt with his exhaustion.

Yeosang picked up on it and nodded at the kettle.

"Do you want some tea?" He would have brewed some mint or ginger tea to give their fatigued minds a little boost, so Hongjoong gladly sat down with him.

"Yeah, why not? Let's have some tea."

So they drank tea while around them, the world seemed to be ending. Tomorrow, many people would be dead and many others devastated because of the cruel fate the skies bestowed on them. More jobs would pop in, since people would swear vengeance and the restless spirits of tonight would reawaken in other shapes. 

But for today, they could wait out the night of slaughter in the cosiness of their home. Could distract each other whenever another howl or cry of death echoed through the darkness. They spoke about their next duties and about renewing some wards once they visited Mingi next time.

As soon as Maria could confirm the truth of The Weaver's information, Hongjoong would look into the source of the ghouls. But he wouldn't hunt an innocent person.

They sat there, talking over some tea while the world went mad outside. And once the morning came and battled the moon back into submission, life returned to normal. The same oranges and pinks blushed across the skies and the same mist clung to the forest. And though there would be corpses everywhere, blood nourishing the soil and new creatures born to haunt any living being, it was another day.

So Hongjoong and Yeosang crawled into bed together after a long night of dread to sleep off their anxiety. And now, finally, the strained furrow in Yeosang's brow had also smoothed back out as he found peace from the torment.

Chapter Text

Hongjoong took the time to visit his family before he departed to Deorctun for more work. After sleeping long into noon, he got up even before Yeosang woke up to check the area for any unwelcome guests. The faun was still sprawled by his side, sleeping on his stomach and with his hands curled under his chin while his ears twitched in his dreams. Hongjoong skimmed a lethargic hand through his hair before he got up, searching his clothes in the faint light falling down the stairs. He gathered a little bouquet of Yeosang's flowers and one of their less strong wine bottles before he made his way outside.

The air was frosty despite the time of day. Grey clouds veiled the sky as if the sun was ever hiding from this accursed spot on earth. Hongjoong definitely remembered more sunny days back on the Ascae Isilae. Or did he only think that way because he was a child back then and life was still normal?

He wandered the misty morning, navigating over the overgrown and weathered stone steps that wove between the graves. The Cealdholt lay silent, thankfully, still recovering from the bloodshed of last night. Soon enough, he and Yeosang would have to clean the forests of any demons once more. That was always how it went, blood moon for blood moon.

Hongjoong stopped before the two gravestones lushed with moss, but yet smoother still than all the others. His eyes skimmed the names on them as he sat down on the uneven stone.

Harlan and Sunniva Vann, together with Leofcild Vann.

The names of his parents and his little brother.  

Right next to them, the names of several people Hongjoong never met himself, but all sharing the same last name. 

Ælfwig.

Hongjoong distributed his flowers between the two graves, greeting both Maria's family and his own. In a way, both were his people, so he didn't hesitate to agree when Maria asked him for a memorial for her deceased parents, siblings and others. Back then, on that night of terror and blood, they hadn't been able to retrieve any bodies or belongings for the burial. Only their memories rested here.

Soon, fresh blossoms decorated the bleak stone in their beautiful colours. Hongjoong uncorked the wine bottle to give them the first sip, generously pouring the liquid over the earth.

"Mother, father, Leofcild, how have you been?" He greeted them in a serene mutter before nodding politely at the Ælfwigs as well. 

"Another Dreor Rodor, but I am fine. I hope you are doing well in the otherworld. That you are eating properly, having fun and don't worry too much about me." Hongjoong's family had never been faithful. They believed in the otherworld like most folks did who grew up around brownies and the merrows of the sea, but even if the paradise of the Three Divines was the reality after death, Hongjoong hoped they were being treated nicely. 

"I'm still kicking. Killing as many monsters as I can. Lady Maria is also well." He shared the last part with the gravestone to the left, since their teachings had been passed onto him. As often as he may sully it, he respected their good name and how Maria grew up. Without her, Hongjoong would be long gone.

He took a sip of the wine as well, sharing the drink with them through the worlds. The drink was sweet on his lips.

"Yeosang is doing marvellously. He became so brave. No longer hiding under the tables during Dreor Rodor like Leofcild did," Hongjoong teased, before his smile turned sad. Yeosang was like a brother to him, but Hongjoong never got to see his actual brother grow up. Perhaps they were nothing alike?

Hongjoong often wondered what his parents would say if they could see him now. Whether they would feel avenged by his conquest against evil or whether they would hate seeing him put himself in the face of danger. His father was a simple leatherworker back at home, so would he have made clothing for Hongjoong to wear during his hunts? Would his mother get along with Yeosang and cook with him? 

And Leofcild, would he want to become a hyrde as well or something else altogether?

Unless for some deep and forbidden magic, there was no way to communicate with the dead. Hongjoong knew that they best stayed untouched. But he couldn't help but wonder whenever he sat at their graves to pay them company.

He lifted his gaze when the door to the chapel creaked open. Yeosang carefully threaded outside, wrapped in his big felted shawl as he peered out over the misty forest. The green fabric was decorated with mushrooms and autumn leaves, his project over the last year and it bore beautiful results. 

When his eyes found Hongjoong, the faun pulled the door shut to make his way over on careful hooves. While ridiculously good at manoeuvering forest paths, he tripped on stone more often than Hongjoong did with his longer feet.

It had become somewhat of a ritual. Hongjoong checked in with his family after every blood moon, hoping they wouldn't fear for him or get restless. He was with them every dawn after surviving another Dreor Rodor. 

Yeosang joined by his side, kneeling on the ground to light the candles by the graves, revering the distant souls with the warm flame. He took a ginger sip when Hongjoong offered him the wine bottle, dabbing his lips with the rim of his sleeve after. When he tucked his hands under his cape again, Hongjoong kept the bottle by his knee. 

For a while, they just shared the silence. The candle danced by their side and offered its warmth to their thoughts of those they lost. Yeosang himself had no family he could remember. Lost in the woods as a calf like so many others of his kind, he grew up among fairies and babbling brooks, teaching himself the various uses of plants and how to avoid the dangerous predators of the forest based on the scent of them in the air. His friends were badgers and hares, butterflies and birds. And while that meant he had many acquaintances to mourn, it was easier for him, in a way. Nature took its course.

Yet, he could feel the agony in Hongjoong's heart whenever they sat together. Shared his quiet pain and offered his presence in return.

The cold was creeping under Hongjoong's clothes, reaping him of his warmth. He straightened to empty the bottle and then wiped his lips after.

When he rose, Yeosang peered up at him. Blinked long lashes under the veil of his brown locks.

Hongjoong answered his unspoken question with a smile before he held out his hand to the faun.

"Shall we go back inside? I don't want you to get cold," he offered, and Yeosang held his shawl shut with his other hand when he reached out for Hongjoong.

"Goodbye, everyone. I hope you rest well until our next visit," Hongjoong muttered with a last glance at the graves, leaving the flowers to rustle with the wind until their petals would get carried off.

They crossed the graveyard at a slow pace, and Yeosang had hooked his arm around Hongjoong's to keep steady while peering at his hooves for every step. He staggered only once when he got caught on a missing piece of rock under his hoof, but Hongjoong pulled him into his side immediately, grinning at Yeosang wordlessly when the faun played down the mishap with a blush. 

"You never told me whether your brother was also afraid of magic," Yeosang pointed out in a smooth distraction, but Hongjoong entertained him with a chuckle.

"A bit. He was still young back then. Found it unnerving when the brownies changed things while he was sleeping. And he got scared by a merrow at the coast once when she suddenly appeared from the water. I wouldn't say he hated it, though. He just grew up with enough scary tales to be wary of anything unknown," Hongjoong mused. Leofcild had been four years younger than him, a mere 5 winters when they left their home on the islands and then found their end in Adlbearm. He had been full of wonder then, and full of superstitions. 

And though Yeosang was much older, he carried that very same innocence that Hongjoong recalled in those foggy memories of his brother.

"You think he would have been scared of me?" Yeosang wondered, but Hongjoong shook his head with a chuckle.

"Not of you. Never of you," he assured the gentle faun. A small smile returned to Yeosang's lips, then they fell silent, both caught in thoughts of the past that still held them in its grip, even though these times would never return. 

-

Coffins lined the streets of Deorctun. Undertakers and aides of the order gathered to collect remains and scrub the streets clean of all the blood that had been spilled last night. Women wailed over the corpses of children and husbands, while the men were up in arms yelling at the church members and the mutton shunters passing by.

"A redcap broke in through our window! I want it dead!"

"My sweet Aria was murdered by a vicious faun! You can't allow these pests to live among us any longer!"

"A demon; I definitely saw a demon! It came in through the chimney, and it ate the cat!"

The hostility in the air was critical. Angry crowds were piling on singular people to let their frustration be known. No uncommon sight, but it seemed to get worse every time. Today, some even carried pitchforks and shovels in their hands, as if ready to bash in some heads themselves if no one did it for them. The non-humans had wisely hidden away, not risking getting seen. The murderous eyes of these people wouldn't let them get away unscathed.

Hongjoong spotted two groups of men already getting rowdy with each other. They were shoving shoulders and daunting each other with threats, but so far, they kept their weapons to themselves.

Hongjoong approached them curiously, since he couldn't see human coppers or a non-human here. 

"Good day, gentlemen. What seems to be the problem here? I am a hyrde and work for a fair price," he introduced himself, but one of the burly men immediately made a shooing gesture at him.

"Pah, we need a copper is what we need! This bastard's brother raped and slaughtered my wife and children! Like some monster! I will have his head for that!" he threatened, jabbing at his opponent, who had also brought a small group of friends to back him up.

"It's a tense time for us all-" he began, but the other wouldn't hear it.

"He was very human! Could have thought twice before killing one of our own!"

The fight went on, so Hongjoong kept walking. It was always the same. The same accusations and the same people who suffered for it. The tension and fear of Dreor Rodor could make regular people go mad just as easily as non-humans. Their inert bloodlust broke through; their senses would submir to their darkest desires as they thought anything was possible that night. Some felt empowered enough by their delusion to steal from kings, while others couldn't tell friend from foe anymore. 

No one was safe. But the church yellers already started blaming it on the non-humans among them, calling out satyrs and selkies that had lived in town peacefully for many years.

It was the perfect time to get rid of unwanted neighbours merely by accusing them. And since the order swayed the judgement of the government, it would mean many more innocent deaths as everyone pushed the blame around.

A saddening sight, especially since the tempers were rising now. How much longer until Yeosang shouldn't show his face in Deorctun anymore, not even veiled? Was it time to leave this accursed place behind to try their luck elsewhere, with less hateful neighbours?

By now, they should seriously start thinking about leaving their cosy chapel behind. As much as it was home, Hongjoong could find work anywhere, and he refused to put Yeosang at risk.

Ruminating to himself, the hyrde slipped into the alleys to pay Mingi a visit and pick up all the new jobs that would have come in this morning. He had plenty to do.

Chapter Text

Some days passed, and the tensions simmered down to their regular amount. Hongjoong had his hands full hunting all the newly spawned fiends, raking in money and new wounds as he spent his days and nights chasing the shadows. He had little time to himself since about everyone in Deorctun swore vengeance for someone and the hyrdes were skimming the near forests for their next prey. Hongjoong almost shot his fellow hunters several times when they ended up hunting each other in the forest, and after a week of killing every banshee, ghoul, slaugh and bánánach in sight, the postings finally slowed their influx and he had more time for himself. 

One of those days, he dragged himself back to Deorctun from yet another day spent rolling around in the mud. He stank, he was miserably cold and his weapons had dulled. It was too late to make the journey back home to Droigheann, and he had checked on Yeosang yesterday. So Hongjoong found himself in some inn nursing a drink with tired eyes. He didn't even have the energy to flirt with the maids peering at him full of curiosity, somehow attracted by the rugged, armed man who stank like guts and mould. 

He crawled into bed alone that night, craving merely for some sleep after a long bath. The blackened water was discarded behind him as he fell into the sheets without drying off, finding even this simple bed heavenly. 

But he was in luck, and it wasn't just his grime that attracted the ladies. In the morning, when he came downstairs without all his equipment to slurp some invigorating tea with his breakfast, one of the maids bravely approached him, offering him a slice of berry pie.

Hongjoong looked up in surprise, about to tell her he hadn't ordered it, but he caught the blush on her cheeks, the fidget of her fingers under the wooden tray pressed to her chest.

So he smiled instead.

"Thank you. Very kind," he told her, and soon, she sat with him, telling him about herself and asking about his work in return. When Hongjoong told her he still had some time before he had to leave and invited her upstairs, the other girls behind the counter giggled when she immediately shot up on her chair to follow. Hongjoong winked at them before he took his company to his room and closed the door behind them. 

She was sweet, warm and desperate when she clung to his shoulders as he drove into her. Her lips kissed tenderly, and her noises spurred him until she was gasping for breath. He buried his head in her soft chest, relished the warmth of her insides that made him feel alive after all the nights spent out in the forests among monsters. Hongjoong was basking in their shared bliss, forgetting himself in her. Time didn't matter when the addictive pleasure kept them pressed close.

Only to get interrupted by the door swinging open unannounced in the middle of their joyous games.

With a jerk, Hongjoong turned for his weapons, making his companion moan in surprise when the sudden movement brought him even deeper. Then she spotted the man in the door and snatched the blanket against her heaving chest with a shriek.

Before Hongjoong got a word out, a familiar voice reached his ears. 

"By the Three- What shocking impropriety! To conduct oneself thus in broad daylight! Are you quite turned canine?!"

Hongjoong thought he wasn't seeing right. 

What was the Wihtbane doing here? With his silver cane, the white mask in perfect place and his fanciful exterior dropped to disgust as he laid eyes on the naked bodies intertwined on the bed.

A disbelieving scoff came from Hongjoong's lips. 

"You barge into a room and dare complain? At least one of us can make a woman scream."

Under the mask, it was impossible to read his face, but Hongjoong could tell by the draw of his shoulders how uncomfortable he was. Pious enough that he had never seen a naked woman before?

"Make him leave," the woman gasped, startled by the Wihtbane's appearance and his lack of tact. The heat between them was chilling rapidly the longer Hongjoong had to look at that buffoon in the door.

"This is not-" Seonghwa began, but Hongjoong gave him a blinding smile.

"Could you leave? As you may have noticed, I'm not finished here, and you are bothering my lady friend." He leaned to shield their middles as much as he could, not sure where the Wihtbane's eyes would wander and because he wanted to protect his companion's honour. 

But the spooked noble stood firm as a pillar in the door, somehow less mannerly than the lower classes he kept looking down on.

A moment later, he reached into his coat to rummage for something. He produced a letter with a red sigil on it, waving it through the air.

"Attend me forthwith. This is by royal decree," he ordered, and while Hongjoong was unsurprised that someone with this much power could easily find him, he was baffled by the gall. He would seriously stand there until Hongjoong followed?

Did this fellow seriously not know anything about intimacy?

"What do I care for royal orders? I'm not your chaperon," Hongjoong scoffed. He pulled the sheet to cover his companion when he pulled from her, unable to continue even if the Wihtbane kindly waited outside. Though unashamed of his body, he made sure to help the maid cover up since her humiliated redness reached down to her chest. 

Hongjoong tried to convey an apology with his eyes, but she merely snatched her dress from him when he offered it, getting dressed behind the room divider.

"You ought to care, sirrah. I possess the means to have you confined within the deepest, darkest dungeon for your manifold transgressions. Do you desire to languish there for all eternity? I daresay the rodents would find delight in your flesh. Assist me, or I shall expose you before the royal court," Seonghwa threatened, and Hongjoong slipped into his pants, yanking his belt shut before throwing his shirt on so he could scowl at that white mask once more. 

"Just wait for me downstairs, you damned flapdoodle. I'm on my way."

Finally, Seonghwa turned on his heel to wander back downstairs. A bunch of other workers had hidden behind him, nosy about the commotion and their noble visitor in such a humble inn. Hongjoong gave them an apologetic grin as he strapped his weapons around his waist. He would probably be on some list of troublemakers now, thanks to dollface.

When the maid emerged from behind the divider, rage still drew her brow. She sorted her messy hair with hasty fingers, spooked by the sudden lawman in the room. 

"Sorry for all this. Here, for a drink to make it up to you," Hongjoong addressed her, handing her a coin. And though her fury softened when she tucked it into her corset, she still shook her head at him.

"Maybe tell your clingy chuckaboo to stay outside for a while next time you scuttle someone. And don't show your face here again," she slipped into her shoes after Hongjoong did, and he grabbed his coat to hold the door open for her. Her whispering friends buzzed off downstairs, but the rumours would keep spreading here for a while.

"Promise he's not my chuckaboo. But I understand, farewell," Hongjoong said when he stepped outside, finding Seonghwa posed up next to the door with his back straight and looking like a statue. A curious stable boy had paused in his work to stare at him, confused about what he was looking at.

Hongjoong sighed to himself as he stemmed a boot against the wall by his side to tie his laces.

"You're so desperate to be with me, huh? Why not buy me a drink like a normal person?" He teased, frustrated that he didn't get to finish but even more so since it was stupid dollface of all people he had to hang out with now. What could be so important that he came with a letter to blackmail Hongjoong after letting him go last time? Wasn't he busy hunting ghouls?

"Silence yourself and follow me."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, but he came along when Seonghwa guided him back onto the main road. Townsfolk stared at his infamous mask, some bowing or wishing him well, while others tried to stop him to ask personal favours.

Hongjoong trudged behind him, not impressed with the glamour he surrounded himself with.

"What are we doing?" He asked, not about to waste precious time entertaining a spoiled noble when he could be returning home to Yeosang to hug the sweet faun and let him fret over his wounds after the toll of these last few days.

Seonghwa slapped the letter against Hongjoong's chest, already explaining its contents while Hongjoong still unfolded it to skim the lines written in elegant cursive. 

"Lady Maria Ælfwig has dispatched a missive of utmost import. You are to attend me in a matter of vampyric inquiry. Her Majesty, Queen Blodwyn herself, commended my family for this undertaking, yet Lady Maria insists upon your participation. So I summon you to comply without delay, for the sake of both our reputations," he demanded and indeed, the letter read the same. A scribe of the queen had sent it, so Maria must have found new information on her hunt and reported back to her queen. 

It also meant that she was investigating the one she intended to kill if she needed Hongjoong to investigate another vampyre. Begrudgingly, he had to admit that this was indeed important.

After he folded the letter, Seonghwa tucked it back into his coat. The tap of his cane on the rough cobblestones beneath their feet echoed from the buildings.

"You got it wrong. I don't need to impress Lady Maria. She trusts me; that's why she asked for me," Hongjoong replied. It was on the queen that he had to babysit this Wihtbane now. Perhaps another one of them would have been easier to deal with, like Blondie? Surely, this one was the worst they could offer, their most spoiled brat.

"Then serve as my boy to exhibit a modicum of goodwill towards your mentor. You are a most intractable individual," Seonghwa huffed at him. Wondering which of them was older, Hongjoong was tempted to rip that mask off and see who was hiding underneath, but he couldn't afford to do that in the middle of the city. 

"Uh-huh. Because you know so much better. Just stay behind me when it gets dangerous. So, what are we doing?" Seonghwa seemed to know where he was going, crossing over the busy marketplace while people gossiped about his elegant appearance. The wind rushed through his white hair, blowing it around the ghostly mask.

"We are bidden to a soiree at a vampyre lord's abode, to glean intelligence regarding the Lady Maria's quarry. We must conduct ourselves appropriately and forbear from harming any soul. Suitable raiment is requisite," he explained their march to the nearest tailor shop, and Hongjoong hummed.

So that was why he couldn't see the accursed doll. Their job was not to kill but to gather information. If he could, Hongjoong would caution Yeosang of this plan, but it didn't seem as if Seonghwa would give him the time to drop by Droigheann. And the faun knew to take care of himself when Hongjoong needed to stay out. Hongjoong merely didn't want him to fear when he went missing near a vamypre's abode for a few days.

"Can't wear your mask then. They will recognise you," he taunted, since his curiosity was growing with every encounter they shared. Plenty of hyrdes wore scarves over their mouths, preferred masks and helmets to protect themselves from noxious fumes or the splatter of blood. But the Wihtbanes donned their masks as a family tradition, even among each other. Their title mattered more than their distinct features, but that didn't mean they had none. Underneath all that glamour was a man like any other.

And Hongjoong was dying to find out what was at the core of these self-righteous people. Nothing? 

"My family has already seen to the matter. Now follow me," Seonghwa quipped before he pulled the door to the shop open to step in first. Hongjoong shut it behind them, unwillingly roped into a mission with a Wihtbane by his side.

Chapter Text

The rattling of the carriage seemed obnoxiously loud in the night. Two horses were pulling their gorgeous black freight through the Cealdholt west toward the Blodbeorge, the mountain rage where their vampyre supposedly held the grand celebration today. Hongjoong was lounging on soft cushions and enjoyed the rare ride, but his hands kept fiddling with the unfamiliar clothes on his body.

When Seonghwa had dragged him into that tailor shop, the eccentric man working inside had already expected them. He made a grand deal out of serving a Wihtbane, though he tutted and shook his head at Hongjoong several times, disappointed with his simple clothes and efficient wraps of belts heavy with weapons. Apparently, Hongjoong was blessed with 'such a fine appearance he was wasting.'

Seonghwa hadn't said much, disappearing behind a curtain to get dressed himself while poor Hongjoong was tugged and yanked on until everything sat nicely. And after a lot of fuss and dramatics, the tailor had clad them in suitable garments for a vampyre soiree. Expensive green brocade hugged Hongjoong's shoulders in a tailcoat, and impractical lacey sleeve cuffs fell over his hands constantly and needed to be flung away so he could grab things. He had been stripped of his weapons, exchanged his handy stomping boots for elegant loafers and was now tugging uncomfortably at the tight collar stifling his neck with a ruffled jabot. 

He looked ridiculous, completely out of his element, and the vampyres were likely to notice it right away. 

Seonghwa, on the other hand, perfectly suited this occasion. He wore a rich dark blue suit, accented with silver embroidery and a matching ribbon around his neck. His top hat donned a white feather, and the silver cane by his side added to the sophisticated look. 

As predicted, he had also changed his mask so the vampires wouldn't guess his identity immediately. Most of his face was still covered by the dramatic white design framing his eyes and nose. Feathers flourished to the side of his face, mixing with the white of his hair until the only part visible of him remained his newfound mouth and chin.

Hongjoong had been studying this new patch of skin for a while. Kept glancing back at the man's face as if he could see more of it if only he stared hard enough. 

Seonghwa had nice lips. Plush and a nice dark shade of pink. His upper lip was fuller than the lower one, and the teeth behind them were well-tended.

He was clean-shaven with great precision, not like Hongjoong, who caught the occasional stubble on his chin. And judging by his jaw and skin texture, he was decidedly a grown man, no brat, but not old enough yet to get wrinkly. 

He also wasn't as pale as Hongjoong thought he would be, always hiding behind his mask. Paler than Hongjoong, sure, but still decidedly darker than many others in this place. Healthy in a way few could afford.

Since his eyes were cast in the shadow of this mask now, Hongjoong could only see his white hair aside from that, curling around his face with a cherubic innocence that didn't match his ghastly personality. 

Hongjoong glanced out of the window, into the dark forest rushing past. They were past Droigheann now, but closer to his home here than to Deorctun. He hadn't known a vamypre lived in these mountains, yet it made sense. They preferred their abodes in desolate places where no one could discover their sanguine pastimes. No one would hear the screams of the wretched souls that got lost in the mountains out here. 

"You sure they won't be suspicious of you showing up with a mask as the only person in there?" He asked his companion, who had been staring out of the window in disinterest the entire time, caught in his own thoughts. Now, he turned his head in Hongjoong's direction.

"I shall claim that I suffered a most disfiguring injury, a devastating blow indeed for one who would be, ostensibly, eternally youthful and winsome, as befits a vamypre."

Hongjoong had to snort at his calling himself beautiful. Whatever beauty there might be, it spoiled under the haze of his conceit. 

"Any specifications of what to do? Do you need me to get someone drunk to blackmail them for information? Or should I rummage through the drawers of their desks while you distract them? I'm pretty good at lock picking."

This time, it was Seonghwa who sighed like a parent would sigh when a child didn't go to bed or messed up their duties. Neither of them had asked to do this together, but they were stuck on this mission now. To Hongjoong, it didn't matter if the Wihtbane wanted to wait in the carriage instead. He would do what Maria needed him to do and be out in a flash.

"The locale will be quite infested with vampyres. We seek intelligence concerning a higher vampyre, to whom our hosts and fellow guests might pledge allegiance, or perchance harbour envy, as oft occur amongst their ilk. We require a trail to guide us unto the higher vampyre's abode, or better yet, any further particularity concerning them," Seonghwa explained gravely. It was a bold move to put them right among the fiends, hoping they wouldn't be discovered as a late-night meal to gather information instead. 

And no surprising idea, coming from Maria. She had always believed in working at the very heart of evil to destroy it from within. The taint it left on her heart was her own to nurse, but Hongjoong agreed with her strategy. Vampyres were far more shrewd than a common ghoul. With enough finesse, one could survive an encounter with them. Given that they were already fed.

It was, however, a risky mission to hand to two people who barely knew each other and worked in different ways. The task was clear, but how well could Hongjoong work with a Wihtbane? 

Hongjoong flicked his sleeves out of the way to caress a self-conscious hand through his hair. It wasn't clotted with blood or any other fluids at the very least, but he hadn't done anything special with it, just tied it back as always. 

"Cease your fidgeting with your garments, lest you be marked as a hyrde," Seonghwa recommended, but Hongjoong shook out the bothersome white lace, going crazy from its constant tickling on his palm. 

"All these embellishments are impractical at best. Where am I supposed to carry my weapon? I will spill little gems all over the place if I get stuck on these." Hongjoong pointed at the delicate black gems that hooked around his jabot, connecting the pieces of his lapel. Pretty, but what for?

"We are not here for a fisticuff, mind you. And must one not strive to present a suitable countenance? Perchance, you ought assay this more oft. You possess no unsightly mien, merely attire that suggests a vagrant's raiment," Seonghwa judged him with a cursory scan of Hongjoong's lax position, his spread legs and slouched back. 

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, trying to glimpse through the forest before the window, but the lanterns dangling from the sides of the carriage blinded him against the darkness. The mountains must be looming over them, since the path was already climbing up. 

When he glanced back at dollface, he found him with his arms crossed. A subtle smirk played around his lips, crooked on the right side where he exposed a sliver of ivory, well-tended teeth. He looked smug, as if he enjoyed some banter in a conversation, and Hongjoong found himself smirking back.

If this noble thought he could play, they would play.

"Said like one who never rolled in the mud before. Do you even hunt? Or do you just enjoy being born into the family of the most famous vampire hunters out there?" He taunted, engrossed now by the information he could catch on this man's face. And though Seonghwa schooled his expression into a firm frown a moment later to wear his very own mask, Hongjoong's senses were keen from the hunt. He could catch the arrogance in his tone, the mocking twitch of his lips.

"My obligations extend beyond the hunt, for I am bound to uphold the law and safeguard our populace, engage in the court's political machinations, and pore over the world's lore and its denizens, seeking remedies against afflictions and devising novel armaments. My pursuits, therefore, are far more ambitious than merely wallowing in mire or straw with sundry women."

Hongjoong leaned back in his seat, humming to himself. Studying beasts and how to deal with them was part of the job. That was the very least a descendant of the most famous family of monster hunters in their kingdom would learn. But Hongjoong didn't believe any claims of superior hunting until he saw it. Studying books and people was the work of a noble, not a hyrde.

"The other man last time. Your brother?" He had seemed knowledgeable enough, excluding their use of dolls instead of the traditional means.

"Yunho, aye, a specialist he is in the pharmaceutical and anatomical study of creatures most peculiar. A veritable prodigy, given his tender years," Seonghwa replied. The horses neighed outside, probably feeling the shift in the air, the whispers in the shadows. They were entering dangerous territory.

"Do you specialise in anything?" Hongjoong wondered as he picked up his hat, not expecting to bring it back to Deorctun if a fight broke out today. The carriage groaned on the last stretch of mountainous road, and the rough caws of the crows responded as if in greeting.

"In the populace and its safeguarding. I have yet to accomplish my own discoveries through my ardent studies," Seonghwa replied dutifully, like a scholar. Hongjoong figured this was his first grand mission for the queen. A way to prove himself to his family and the royal court since he was their youngest chick in the nest.

Which meant Hongjoong was a babysitter tonight.

"Ever dealt with vampyres?" He sighed, already feeling old in comparison with this fellow. Was this Maria's punishment for getting himself into trouble again?

Seonghwa wrapped his hand around his cane, splaying it across his lap. Its grip was shaped in an elegant curve carved with a mimicry of plants. Hongjoong wondered how much all his detailing cost. A lifetime on his terms?

"Not at such close quarters, save when hunting in company. I am, however, cognisant of their presence at the same balls as myself, and have indeed exchanged words with a few," Seonghwa said and that was better than nothing. At least he wouldn't run away screaming if he saw them drinking blood. 

If Hongjoong got a Wihtbane killed in a vampyre nest and made it out without him, he wouldn't just get thrown into a dungeon. He would be flayed every day all life long. So either he made sure they both died miserably to dozens of vampire fangs or Hongjoong actually had to make an effort to get this poor wretch back home so they could go their separate ways afterwards. Seonghwa could boast before his family about a job well done, and Hongjoong could return to his duties by Yeosang's side. 

The scent of blood pierced the air. Hongjoong straightened, his hand rising to his hip on instinct in search of a weapon that wasn't currently there. 

"And what of yourself? How long have you been in service as a hyrde?" Seonghwa wondered, but Hongjoong opened the window of the carriage with a fleeting grin at the surprised Wihtbane.

"Too bad, seems like you will never find out," he snickered before he called toward the coacher. The night seemed to devour the world, swallowing the stars and the mountain landscape around them. Their light swayed lonely among trees that seemed to reach for them with their ghostly fingers, and it was impossible to tell how many eyes watched them from the shadows.

"We are close, good man! Keep an eye out for a building!" He shouted, not sharing his knowledge of the scent he had caught. The horses sounded frightened enough already.

When he dropped back into his seat, he found Seonghwa had closed his cape around his shoulders, ready to depart. 

"You shall furnish replies to my queries upon our return journey," he decided, and Hongjoong gave him a dangerous grin. 

"Sure, if we both make it out."