Archive of Our Own ^beta

The earliest rays of dawn were his favourite time of the day. When the sky merely hinted at the light of the sun, and the brisk morning air swirled around like a curious cat. Some days the dew of the morning was still crystalised into a frost. No one else rose at that time, and the entire village was silent, serene, and without the stresses of everyday life.

Most importantly, it was there that the voices sang the sweetest. He sat on his perch at the top of the hill, overlooking the buildings below, as the spirits weaved melodies around, placing blessings and curses onto the people below. The songs were only perceived by him. It was that particular morning he heard something he’d never heard. It was expectation and delight.

He’s coming

Jimin didn’t understand what that could mean. He barely understood the songs in general, only the feelings and to whom. But those words were clear. Obvious. Yet, who was this person? A god? A greater spirit? He could even be a mere mortal.

But Jimin knew that whoever he was, the spirits loved him. And that was enough for Jimin to be just as delighted.

Jimin stood up and made his way down to the village, careful not to injure himself, only to hear something that made his blood curdle. A woman screaming out his name, fury in her voice.

The Madam… She was awake. Earlier than she normally was.

Jimin ran helter-skelter the rest of the way, knowing that no matter how contrite he seemed, he was bound for punishment. Madam and Master didn’t care that Jimin was not actually late. He wasn’t ready for their demands. The meant he was in the wrong.

As Jimin arrived, the Madam snarled before lashing out with her hand, grabbing onto Jimin’s arm, fingers like claws in his skin. Jimin winced but made no sound. He merely bowed as much as he could, hoping to incur as little wrath as possible.

“How dare you, slave! You weren’t here for your morning routines, and now we’re running behind! All because you tried to run away again! Didn’t you!”

Jimin shook his head in earnest, knowing that the Madam wouldn’t care. She was in one of her moods, and nothing would stop her tirade. Not logic, not excuses, nothing.

So, he had to endure it as she began to beat him with her spare hand, causing fresh bruises to bloom onto his skin. It hurt. Despite her age and her fragile appearance, her strength was astonishing, and eat hit reverberated through Jimin. He tried to stay silent, she hated hearing him. Ever. But he felt a cry form from inside his lungs, tumbling up in a rush of garbled air. His voice always rough from immense disuse.

His absent tongue making the sound like a dying animal.

And that was much worse to her.

She slapped his cheek, her nails ripping at his cheek, and he moaned low, before she threw him to the ground.

“Stupid, dumb creature. Do all your chores, immediately. And if you leave without good reason, I will throw you into the cellar!”

She stormed out, her anger sated, while Jimin lay whimpering on the ground, tears trailing down his cheeks.

He heard some spirits crying for him, trying to soothe him. It never truly worked, but Jimin thanked them in his heart for trying. Especially as he heard that whisper again, softer, but more insistent.

He’s coming

~~~

He’d stayed too long. Again.

Yoongi looked at the great hall, watching all the people feasting in strange glee. Celebrating their amazing harvests and hunts. Delighted in their new-found riches and wealth. The continued to look to him with smirks of expectation. They used to cry in relief and joy, miracles having worked perfectly for their dying and destitute village.

When Yoongi had arrived, the spirits told him that the people needed him, desperate.

So, he had done what he always did. Saved them. Loved them. Cared for them.

And merely two months later, their happiness had turned into greed. And Yoongi knew it was time. They no longer needed miracles. No longer needed him.

Still, he had stayed for the sake of the children there. Despite how quickly their parents had turned, the children still came to him in wonder and awe, asking him to make flowers bloom, or to make their cheeks glow like a small fire. Childish, silly, and charming requests.

But he’d stayed too long.

He stood from his place of supposed honour and started to walk out.

The chief of the village stood in an instant, rushing to his side. “My lord! The feast is not over. Are you to retire for the evening?”

Yoongi smiled softly. “…No. I am leaving.”

The great hall slowly fell silent at those words. The people turned to him, eyes horrified, like they couldn’t comprehend what Yoongi had just said. The chief took a step back, before laughing nervously. “Leaving for your room, you mean!”

“No. I am leaving. I have given you what you asked. But you are not the only people who are suffering. I have places to be. I told you all that I would not stay forever.”

People began to stand up, like they were going to stop him. Yoongi sighed. Perhaps he should have snuck out, but he also didn’t want them to follow him. Better to break off from them honestly.

A warrior smacked his hand on a table, causing others to jump at the loud, intimidating noise. “You can’t leave. You’re of this village now. And no-one else is to have you.” The people begun to hum in agreement, others stepping toward Yoongi, as thought to grab him. Force him to stay.

The spirits didn’t like that.

At once, the lights all went out, and the spirits manifested in the room like black serpents that glowed an unnatural green light. They had eyes that looked hollow, save with that sick, ghostly light emanating from them. The people began to scream in fright, some even running out of the room, causing a panic. All the while, Yoongi sent a few kinder spirits to cover the eyes of the children. They didn’t need to see this. Not if Yoongi was right.

The chief fell back, more a political man than a fighter, but the warrior ran forward, threatening Yoongi. “Call off these creatures! You belong to us, and here you will stay.”

Yoongi sighed. “…They only do as I say when we work together. The spirits are doing this because they want to. If you wish for death, then you will find it. Leave me be and let me leave, and no harm shall some to anyone.”

The few people that remained were all fighters. And all of them so stupid.

They rushed at him, death not a deterrent from their greed.

And they never even touched him before they were torn down by the angry spirits.

At least the children heard and saw nothing.

But that was a small comfort to Yoongi.

He’d simply stayed too long.

Again.

~~~

Walking out of the village he could heard screams and wails, mourning songs already beginning. Yoongi tried to not let it sink into his bones, but there was nothing to stop how his heart slowly broke again. It was like he was permanently broken, but just had to place himself back together like a cruel puzzle.

He was so tired.

The spirits around him nuzzled up to him, singing songs of comfort to their old friend, but Yoongi couldn’t be so easily helped. His emotions were spiralling downwards, no end in sight.

He’d been doing this for far too long. Attempting to bring life and light to the Forgotten Peoples, but they were so quick to hoard him for themselves. His powers could make the tired land fertile, wells flow like they were new, even guarded the people from wild, ravenous animals. Crops would grow, and they would see their livestock flourish. They would even find new metals in their mines and be able to afford luxuries that the Forgotten rarely could purchase. All these things would be lasting. Yet they demanded him to stay.

Yoongi was so tired of it. No matter how well he explained that his help was permanent, that he would not stay forever, he would face such scenes. Such violence.

The spirits above gently tugged him down the path, knowing his next destination, even though Yoongi rarely knew. He hadn’t always followed them so closely, determined to not be completely at their mercy. That was when he was young. Or younger, at least. Time truly meant little to him now. He felt more like a puppet that was strung to the next place. Just to face moments of happiness, and flashes of deep hurt.

As he walked, he wet hip lips, before whispering, “Place a blessing on the children. They were so pure.”

Some spirits broke away, excited to fulfil his request. Most stayed with him, loyal as ever.

Honestly, Yoongi couldn’t imagine a life where he couldn’t see or hear the spirits. Even as a boy they were with him through everything. Through his childhood, with him as a rowdy adolescent, even there as he fell in love with his beloved wife.

Yoongi stopped that thought. No good things came of thinking of her. Of his own home.

It had disappeared in the sands of time.

And he was left to wander.

~~~

Jimin had shown the Madam his buckets before he attempted to leave. She had sneered at him but didn’t attempt to hurt him again. Jimin was relieved, knowing the well would be the best place to soothe his body, and clean his wounds.

Perhaps the well was the only place that still worked properly in the village. Yes, the spirits sang out blessings to the world around them, but there were not many. And Jimin supposed that they weren’t able to keep the whole place in perfect health. The crops no longer grew, and often the people were left with little to eat. There was no livestock left to kill for meat. Nothing left of the metal works which provided so many with income.

Jimin had heard of the term before. The Forgotten People.

Long before he was born, the country had been whole. Then strange diseases, famine and wars began to break out. The dissent was all-consuming, becoming too much for the ruling class to deal with. And that was when they used their resources to separate the people. One grand city, beautiful and glittering. Well-fed, water used for entertainment, even strange technologies that had been long abandoned by the Forgotten.

They lived in perfect health. While just outside, entire villages disappeared. It could be from raiders, raping and pillaging everything before moving on like locusts… Other times the food and water would simply run out.

That was the fate his village would soon suffer. They all knew it.

And they were living on borrowed time.

The only two families with anything left were the Jeons and Kims. While the Kims were open with what they had, knowing they were just as likely to suffer, the Jeons hoarded what they had, closing their eyes to their looming starvation. Still, Jimin couldn’t fault them. Perhaps they would end themselves before it came to that.

But his Madam and Master were business as usual. They worked as a distillery, a tavern, and had a large amount of alcohol in their cellar. Nothing that would keep the village alive, their brew was uninspired, and could not be sold to anyone out of the village. It was, however, a comfort to the dying town. And thus, Jimin, a slave, continued to be worked to death. He barely ate, his owners not caring for his health. If there was little food to spare, why let him have even a morsel too much.

Jimin would attempt to escape, but he knew what would happen if they caught him.

His hollow mouth reminded him every day.

No-one was left at the well, for which Jimin was thankful. He attached the buckets to some rope, and lowered them, more than he had yesterday. He winced at that realisation, knowing the spirits were doing their best. But if the well ran dry…

He didn’t want to think about it.

He heaved up the full bucket, adding too much pressure to his tired and pained body, but managed to get it up. As he set the first bucket on the edge, he began to untie the rope, when he felt two hands shove him forward. Jimin manged to keep himself from falling in. But the untied bucket spiralled all the way down, irretrievable without assistance and tools that Jimin didn’t have.

He would be beaten again.

He cried out in despair as familiar laughter rang out. He turned back to the teenagers behind him, knowing he shouldn’t react, but was too emotional to think. The boys were dirty and too skinny, like most in the town, and like most in the town, they loved to play sick games with the resident mute slave.

“Oh no!” One of the boys crowed out, “Looks like the slave dropped his bucket! How clumsy!” The others guffawed at him.

Jimin flushed in shame and anger. Dropped it… Like it was his fault.

“I mean, I’d help him, if only he’d ask me.” Another boy sneered, and the group laughed harder.

Jimin turned back to the well, trying to figure out a possible way to retrieve his bucket. Even without language, he would never ask their help.

“Oh no! Is he ignoring me? Maybe he’s deaf now too!”

Jimin tried to not cry as the boys laughed at that. Surely, they weren’t so amused by this stupid mockery.

Just as he thought to fashion a crude hook from the other bucket, he felt hands shove him again. He caught himself but felt the hands again.

“You should go diving for it. Get it yourself!”

Jimin cried out. The well was not big enough to hold his body, and he knew the drop was long. He’d likely be knocked into senselessness by the jagged stones, then drown in the water at the bottom.

They wanted him dead.

Some other hands began to shove at him, jarring his body, and their voices jeered at him, but Jimin was determined to not fall in. He didn’t want to die.

He didn’t want to die!

“What the hell are you doing?”

The boys all jumped back, guilty, whereas Jimin slumped to the ground, making sure he could no longer be pushed in. He looked up at the man who was his saviour and smiled softly.

Jeongguk always had a surly look on his face around the other villagers. But Jimin knew the only child of the Jeons to be incredibly sweet, despite his selfish parents.

“He’s wasting village food. Honestly, we should have gotten rid of him the moment we killed the last horse.” The leader of the boys sniffed, feeling justified. But as Jeongguk glared at them, he wilted slowly.

“So, you’re saying you were going to destroy the property of the Distillery? And what, expect no consequences?”

The boys all balked, even the leader, his face blanched from the realisation and sudden fear.

“Get out of here, and don’t mess with him again. Or I’ll tell the Madam exactly what you were doing.”

The boys ran.

And the moment they were alone, Jeongguk’s hard exterior melted away into a scared, anxious demeanour. He rushed to Jimin, hushing him, despite no sound coming from Jimin’s mouth. “It’s gonna be okay, Jimin. Don’t cry, please, you know I hate seeing you cry.”

Perhaps that was why he was being hushed, because Jimin realised that his face was, indeed, wet with tears. He shuddered, and hid his face away, working down a sob. That was too close. Far too close.

Jeongguk sighed, before he looked at the remaining bucket, and hummed. “Don’t you normally have two?”

Jimin nodded quickly, and Jeongguk groaned. “Is the other in the well?” Jimin nodded. “But no rope to get it up?” Jimin nodded again.

Jeongguk groaned in annoyance. “They really had to fuck you over, huh.”

Jimin looked up, surprised at the language but Jeongguk wasn’t looking for Jimin’s reactions.

“I’m not sure how I could get that for you, but I can probably get you a new bucket from my home. Not like my parents ever use it.”

Jimin looked away, embarrassed. His friend always did too much for him.

Jeongguk glanced at Jimin, before smiling softly. “At least I can get you some water.” Jimin lifted his hands to show his protest, but the adrenaline had left his body, making him feel weak. Jeongguk wouldn’t have ‘listened’ anyway, and the younger tied the second bucket to get water. Jimin huffed softly and waited, ignoring Jeongguk’s chuckle.

A chuckle that broke off as they both heard a horrific sound.

The bucket thudded. And there was slack on the rope.

Jeongguk looked at Jimin, his eyes wide, scared.

“…Jimin? Did… Did you hear that?”

Jimin took the rope, and hauled it up, nearly crying when no extra weight came with it. When the bucket arrived, he saw only a slight dribble of water.

But how could that be?

The well was fine merely moments ago!

Jimin looked up at the spirits, eyes wide.

They sang to him.

But it was a sad song. They weren’t strong enough anymore to bring the water.

Jeongguk beside him began to cry, knowing what this meant.

And Jimin began to weep with him.

~~~

Yoongi had walked far longer than he normally preferred, even passing some villages that had been in trouble. But the spirits assured him that he was needed elsewhere. Fortunately for him, he didn’t have to worry about provisions. The spirits around him would bring him food, whether it was a bush of berried, or some root vegetable. Sometimes, they’d even bring him a hare or bird that he could shoot for meat. He was never left wanting. But the journey was long, and he longed for human interaction.

He rarely went as north as the spirits were taking him, as he’d found the earth was harder to renew, the spirits in those parts often deserting the land. Bringing them back was tiring, and often left Yoongi weak. The spirits that stayed with him kept him from overexerting himself, but magic, as Yoongi had found, was unpredictable. Using the energy of the spirits wasn’t doable by most, but through Yoongi, the spirits had found an amplifier, making them stronger than ever, and able to do more than normal. Yoongi knew from experience that his ability kept them refreshed for generations. Whether the humans would stay for that long was something Yoongi didn’t know.

As the village came into view, he saw a sight he’d never encountered.

A spirit from the village raced towards him, like it was desperate. That was strange. Most spirits were passive at the state of the land, sad, yes, but not like this. He could hear it crying out, nearly begging him for help. Without knowing what the spirit needed, Yoongi let the magic slip out of him, making the creature strong.

With a moment of gratitude, the spirit raced back.

And then true pandemonium happened.

All the spirits of the land launched out from the village and raced towards him, crying out. Even Yoongi’s own companions were confused, but Yoongi let them take what they needed, until he could feel himself weaken. His own spirits cut off his magic, warding off the older, wearier spirits in the village. Yet Yoongi felt curious, a feeling he’d not experienced in a very long time.

He limped to the village, glancing at the multitude of spirits that were still there, trying to hear their songs, but deafened by how many voices there were. How were so many still there, despite obviously being too weak to do anything? Why did they not leave?

He followed them as they flowed back to the village, knowing that something else was at this new place, and determined to understand. His own spirits scouted ahead, curious as well, but sensing no ill will from the village spirits. And when Yoongi found their destination, he gasped.

A boy, perhaps a man, was lying beside a well, looking near death. Yoongi sent his spirits out to see the scope of the village’s need, while he rushed to the man. He prayed he wasn’t dead, as he tried to see if he was breathing. He was, but it was slow, and sounded rough. Yoongi checked his pulse and was terrified at how slow it was.

He looked up at the village spirits, who were crying.

For this boy.

“Help me heal him.”

And without another second passing, he felt the spirits rush through him at once, before flowing into the boy in his arms. Even though it was hurting Yoongi to have so much energy sapped from him, every spirit resuscitated the boy, his breathing and pulse stronger, colour coming back to his face.

After a while, the spirits began to sing for joy. Their boy was going to live. Yoongi was curious about what they meant, when the boy’s eyes flew open in shock.

And Yoongi was enraptured.

He was dirty, and far too skinny despite being the same height as him. But his features were soft and sweet. Plump lips, a button nose, sultry eyes and the hint of round cheeks, despite his state of malnutrition.

It was the brilliant blue eyes that caught Yoongi off-guard.

Those eyes didn’t belong in that region. And with how they looked up at the spirits singing, Yoongi knew…

The boy was like him.

The boy looked at him, and his eyes teared up, before he smiled gently.

Yoongi felt his heart clench, before he realised how tired he was. The spirits had taken a lot, and he couldn’t fault them. But he also knew that he wouldn’t be able to stay awake. To the boy he softly said, “My name is Yoongi. I’m here to help you all.”

And he fell asleep on top of the boy.

~~~

His entire body felt heavy, sluggish, his limbs not wanting to obey him. Yoongi didn’t often go so far using his powers, but it had been necessary. Strange, though, that resuscitating one person was harder than an entire region. Or perhaps the entire region was close to death, and that one boy was a warning.

If so, Yoongi needed to start working quickly.

He forced his weary limbs to move, his eyelids to peel open.

As he did so, he heard a soft gasp, before the sound of clothes rustled beside him. After a moment, a curious face appeared above him. His eyes were wide, almost in disbelief, heart-shaped lips open in that same shock. Yoongi tried to focus more on his face, surprised at his nearly failing vision. Perhaps Yoongi should rest more…

Then those lips pulled back into a large smile, and the man laughed. “You’re alive? Oh, heavens above, when Jimin brought you here, I thought he was bringing another corpse!”

The words were the shock that pulled Yoongi to full consciousness. Another corpse? How close to the end was this town? Yoongi tried to sit up, and the man made a little noise as though he was not expecting Yoongi to be so energetic. He rushed to help him either way, before smiling gently at Yoongi.

“How are you feeling? Can you speak?”

Yoongi exhaled slowly, before croaking out, “I think I’ll be fine. Just tired.”

The man chuckled softly. “Well, that doesn’t sound too bad. Honestly, you’re lucky we had some herbs that were helpful for people that were fatigued. But… if you were hungry… or thirsty… Well…”

Yoongi sighed softly. “No luck?”

The man’s smile was sardonic. Defeated. “…I don’t know why you’re here, stranger, but you may have found the worst place to come. I think even the wilds have more hope.”

Yoongi shivered. “…How many people are left?”

“…Maybe a quarter of the village. Mostly just those who already had reserves, or those who already lived with little.”

“How long have you had no water?”

“A week and a half. We’ve been rationing everything we have left, some people hoping our local tavern might help keep us slightly hydrated. Needless to say, it hasn’t exactly worked.”

“…Where is... the man who brought me in?”

The man blinked. “Jimin? Ah, he must be back at the tavern. If he’s not dead, they expect him to work.” His lips twisted into a grimace, a hidden meaning behind those words.

“To work? Even when people are dropping like flies?”

“…Well… He’s a slave to the owners. They expect him to work to death.”

Yoongi shuddered. Slaves. He usually didn’t help villages with slaves. The people often held corrupted morals, and rarely learned from their mistakes. Surprisingly, the slaves rarely held the will to escape, their wills thoroughly broken. The spirits could help with many things, but they couldn’t change the hearts of people. It wasn’t natural, and they didn’t get involved in the pettiness of humans, yet alone teach them how to live together in harmony.

But Jimin… He was different.

The man gasped. “Oh, goodness! Listen to me jabbering on. My name’s Jung Hoseok! I work for the Kim household as a healer! Or I did, before the only prognosis was starvation, and that cure doesn’t exist in this village.”

Yoongi smiled softly. “You still seem lively.”

“The Kims had a lot stored up and have been the ones to ration a lot of their things. But this last week… They decided to use what little was left on themselves. Probably for the first time in their lives.”

“They had enough to be healthy?”

“Oh no,” Hoseok laughed. “We’re all still going to die. But they wanted to help others until the end. And they can’t do that if they give everything away.”

“I suppose that makes some sense.”

“…The Kims have been trying to send distress calls to the nearest villages. And they tried to unearth a closed mine for some money. Trying to get food and water to people.”

“…They won’t make it in time though.”

“No, but I don’t want you thinking bad of them. They aren’t being selfish at the end. Just trying to give us the best shot they could.”

Yoongi looked over the young man in front of him. Hoseok looked terrified, despite trying to seem strong. Again, he wondered what it must be like to look your own death in the face. Every person in the village had faced it. Many were dead. Honestly, Yoongi was too late to make true difference. But he could save some people. And if these Kims were so concerned on saving people, perhaps they could lead a mass exodus to another land.

The door to the room groaned open, causing Yoongi to flinch. Yoongi really hadn’t even looked around the modest room, too busy focusing his tired body on Hoseok’s conversation. He noted yellowed walls, wooden, plain furniture, and every blanket on the bed was a well-worn quilt. In essence, it did the job. But it was undeniably a room that had seen better, richer days.

A head popped through the door, with a mop of curly black hair. The man’s eyes were serious, yet strangely childlike. Yoongi was shocked at his handsome features, behind his dirt-smudged face. And when he spoke, his voice was lower than Yoongi expected.

“The hyungs heard you talking. Is he awake?”

Hoseok smiled. “He is. Turns out he’s just exhausted.”

The man smiled slightly. “That’s a relief. What’s his name?”

Hoseok opened his mouth, before blushing furiously. “Ah, Taehyung! Why don’t you ask him yourself! He’s right there!”

This Taehyung smirked. “…You didn’t ask him, did you?”

Hoseok scoffed, but his tomato face must have been enough proof. Taehyung snickered before he looked at Yoongi and smiled. “I’m Kim Taehyung. The youngest of three brothers. What’s your name?”

“…Min Yoongi.”

Taehyung smiled. “…Jimin brought you in. You should thank him… If he’s still alive that is.”

Hoseok sighed. “You need to stop saying that. It’s a curse to speak such words aloud.”

“Like it matters with the tavern owners. They still work him like they’re going to have guests each night. And they have food! And water! Do you think they give any to Jimin?”

“And I’m sure you gave Jimin your water rations.” Hoseok’s face was serious, stern.

Taehyung flinched, coming completely in the room. “…And what if I have?”

“You know you can’t help him, Taehyung.”

“Why are you so willing to give up on him?”

“Because I’m being practical.”

“No, you’re being cynical!”

“And that means I’m being realistic! Taehyung, I know it’s hard to hear!”

“And you told me not to speak out curses, only for you to do the same!”

Yoongi could only watch as the two men argued their point, both passionate for the person they were talking about. But Yoongi had had enough. “I’m hungry… I think I’ll eat.”

The two men immediately stopped their argument, confused. “…We have nothing, and we didn’t see any canteen on you.”

“Oh, I know.”

Yoongi waved his hand, and a ball of water formed in the air, the spirits making it for him. Then Yoongi pouted. “…Hmm, do you have a glass?”

Taehyung was frozen in place. Hoseok, on the other hand, fainted.

Yoongi blinked. Maybe he could have been more subtle?

Or he just had to work quick.

~~~
Jimin still didn’t know what to think. He knew that Yoongi had revived him. He had felt the spirits pull him back from death. He’d been so cold. So unbelievably cold. Then something warm had soaked through his being.

When he woke, he almost thought he was in heaven. The spirits were so numerous, their silver and gold glowing dominating the skies.

But more importantly, a sweet face was in front of him, cast in an ethereal glow. Small, cat-like features, from his sharp eyes to his soft, petal lips. His skin was so pale, it was like fresh snow. Yet his hair was silky, dark, looking healthy. Which was such a rarity in the village. When he spoke, Jimin shivered. His voice was deep, raspy, yet so smooth. He was enraptured by the man, this Yoongi.

Only for him to collapse on Jimin.

Jimin nearly panicked, as he wasn’t even sure if he was strong enough to stand, yet alone drag this man to any kind of aid. He had just been dying before! It was an issue Jimin really didn’t know how to solve. But as he managed to pull himself out from the man’s body, Jimin felt stronger than he had for months, yet lone days. After a bit of adjusting, he was able to pick up the stranger, noting that he was surprisingly light. He made a beeline for the Kims, knowing they were the only ones that might help if they could. He had left the man’s bags behind though, unsure how to carry him and them. After all, he could make trips.

If he’d been left to die by the well, surely no one was expecting him to go back to the tavern.

Dropping Yoongi off to Hoseok was easy.

But as he went to retrieve his bags, he saw someone he had hoped he wouldn’t.

Over the past weeks, the Madam wasn’t looking so good. Her skin was looking wan and sagging more with the lack of proper hydration. Her bones were becoming prominent over her body, the malnutrition finally showing on her cruel countenance.

“What the hell are you doing here! I’ve been expecting you back for hours!”

Jimin froze up, unsure how to work himself out of a beating. He felt so good in his body after so long, he didn’t want the pain. He had been dying, and she still wouldn’t just let him be? The entire village was dying, did she really not know how to let Jimin be?

When she saw Yoongi’s belongings, her eyes shone with greed. Before Jimin could intercept her, she dove in his bags and laughed, pulling out some food, an apple. Even Jimin’s stomach twisted at the sight, and his hunger came back full force.

Just a mouthful.

If he could have just a mouthful.

His eyes teared up at the prospect.

But the Madam shoved the apple straight to her mouth, devouring it in front of Jimin.

And Jimin couldn’t stand it.

But couldn’t say anything. His empty mouth was somehow emptier than his starving body.

She motioned to the bags. “Bring them. I’m sure there’s more for us.”

And Jimin knew that it wasn’t for him. Just the Madam and the Master. He tried to motion towards the Kims, hoping she would know that the bags belonged to someone. But she ignored him, yelling out, “Hurry up!”

Jimin sighed, picking up the bags. He wished he could tell Yoongi that he hadn’t meant to steal from him. Hell, he wished he could just thank him for helping him. As he walked, he felt more dread overcome him. He looked up, only to stop in awe.

The spirits…

He’d never seen them so alive. So vibrant.

He saw colours within their wisps, like rainbows scattered into the night sky, an aurora lighting the way. Even some more familiar spirits have become notably brighter. It was so beautiful that he nearly cried. He hoped, prayed even, that this revival among the spirits was a sign of better times.

A harsh slap to his face shocked him from his reverie, The Madam than gripped his hair, and began to drag him with her as Jimin gasped in pain. He kept his hands on the bags, however, knowing if he dropped them, the abuse would be worse.

Always the same.

He was dragged the whole way back to the tavern, before being thrown to the floor. “I found him loitering around the well. He found these bags, and there are supplies within!”

The Master was less impressed. “So, the slave was attempting to hide them from us?”

And immediately, the Madam’s good cheer drained from her face. She turned to Jimin, her lip curled. “It certainly seemed so.”

When the Master picked up his wooden cane, Jimin merely braced himself.

If starvation didn’t kill him this time, perhaps this beating would.

Yet just as the second blow landed on Jimin’s back, the town bell began to ring, summoning the few people that remained. Jimin trembled in pain as his owners grunted, confused. After all, who would ring the bell? The Master glared at Jimin, annoyed that he had been interrupted, but growled at him to get up.

They all made their way out, and Jimin looked over the people who remained, his heart twinging at every missing person. Yet he also looked at the spirits above, seeing them spinning to the centre of the village, like they too were summoned. And as they walked through the village, Jimin saw his friends in the middle of the clearing, Jimin felt relief. The Jeons looked worse for wear, but easily in the best health of all the people, Jeongguk looking tired and sick. Yet he was still better off than the few that had to drag themselves out. The Kims and Hoseok were all standing in in front of the meeting hall, with one person who was clearly out of place.

Yoongi stood proud on the podium, looking strangely regal before the crowd of starving people. His eyes were soft, saddened, sympathetic. And Jimin recognised that same look from when he had seen Yoongi’s face up close.

The people peered at the stranger wearily as he cleared his throat.

“Thank you for coming, despite how dire your circumstances are. I’m sure you’re wondering who I am, and why I’m here. …Well, I’m here to help you all.”

The Madam scoffed. “Help us? Who are you to think you can offer any help?”

Yoongi looked her over, his eyes shrewd, before his gaze slid to Jimin. The stranger’s surprise was obvious, but then he smiled softly at Jimin, nodding at him.

His owners glared at Jimin, but the slave’s heart thudded in his chest. He wasn’t used to being acknowledged in public. When the Kims talked to him in front of others, gossip always went back to his owners, causing another beating. If the Jeongguk talked to him, the Jeons would reprimand him, turning Jimin away from their precious son. And perhaps Yoongi’s attention wasn’t actually a good thing for Jimin, but the slave almost craved it.

Especially when the spirits clung onto him like the stranger was a good luck charm. And all Jimin’s friends he’d made because of the spirits.

“…I’ll be honest, I’m not the best at explaining how I can help. So, I thought I’d help in an obvious way.”

Yoongi exhaled, then lifted his arms.

From him, the spirits poured through the clearing, before they dove into the ground. The very earth seemed to glow in Jimin’s eyes before there was a calm. Some of the villagers seemed confused, not seeing the miracle Jimin saw. A few began to grumble in confusion, until all at once trees began to grow in the clearing, so quickly and bountifully, that the fruit appeared within moments. The moment Yoongi lowered his hands, the trees stopped growing, leaving a harvest of fruit trees. And the reaction was instant.

Pandemonium.

~~~

Starving people began to rush to the food, pushing each other out of the way in their desperation, a stampede beginning to form. The weaker ones were knocked over, and Yoongi’s heart clenched as he realised. Maybe, even with the spirits, it might be too late to save this place. Perhaps they were too far gone to revert to normal society. There was obviously enough food, and yet some attempted to push people away from the trees, as though they were trying to own all of the food upon it.

They were desperate, yes. But this was more than that.

Yoongi looked at the slave boy, Jimin, eyes widening, as he saw the boy being pushed further away from the trees. And that’s when Yoongi decided to intervene.

He lifted a hand to the people and the spirits rushed around, guiding people into set paths, controlling the mob of people. The action made Yoongi weary, controlling unruly people being much harder than simply asking the spirits to aid him. Still, he put on a brave front and yelled out, “There is more than enough for everyone here. Take what you need but keep calm. You will all eat and drink well tonight. Do not kill each other over nothing!”

The people didn’t seem to fully accept his words, but with invisible bindings keeping them in order, they waited in line, and took food when it was their turn. The crowd eventually filtered out, squirreling away their food to their homes, not wanting to share the miracle with each other.

Odd.

Eventually, Yoongi relaxed, allowing the few left to take food at their leisure. He looked over those that remained, pleasantly surprised to see Jimin lingering. Actually, Yoongi realised that the slave had never stepped forward.

As he watched, he noted two people speaking to him, angry words, judging by their distrustful eyes and harsh frown lines on their faces. The boy took it all in, his shoulders tense, his eyes sad.

They told him to not eat. That he is to bring all his share to them.

Yoongi felt a muscle in his eye twitch at that. Who were those people to say he could not eat. Even slaves had basic human needs. And this boy was no different. The owners walked away with their fruit, and the wanderer almost asked the spirits to turn their gains into ash. Instead, he walked to where Jimin was still standing, the other looking unsure, scared.

“You know,” Yoongi crooned out, making Jimin jump, “they’d never know you ate the food. As far as they’re concerned, you’re just doing what you were told.”

Jimin looked hopeful, and Yoongi smiled gently. The other was so expressive with his emotions, his gentle eyes full of longing, his full lips starting to pout, making an adorable beak. Even his button nose screwed up ever so slightly as he considered. But to Yoongi’s surprise, the boy shook his head and pointed to his stomach. As if answering the silent question in Yoongi’s heart, Jimin’s stomach growled.

Jimin sighed. He pointed at where the owners had gone, then to his temple. It took a moment, but eventually it clicked in Yoongi’s head. The slaves would hear that Jimin’s stomach was no longer making noise, that he had eaten.

He scoffed, “Oh, please. They’re that cruel?”

Jimin’s answering smile was still expressive, but this time it was bitter. Oh, yes, that smile said, his owners were cruel.

Yoongi shook his head. “Fine. Then let me help you in another way.”

Jimin tilted his head, eyebrows tilted in confusion.

Waving his hand, Yoongi made a new apple. Jimin jolted slightly at the sudden apparition before his eyes widened in pure wonder. Yoongi found himself chuckling, despite having seen such reactions. “This apple will not make you full until you are safe in your bed tonight. Although you will hunger until then, you will not go to sleep hungry.”

Jimin shivered, tears forming at the corners of his eyes, before he took the apple. He looked at Yoongi, a question in his gaze.

So, Yoongi just smiled and said, “Eat Jimin. You deserve it.

And Yoongi waited for him to eat.

Jimin just waited for a while, before he nodded. He took the bite, even as he began to cry. Yoongi wished this food would satisfy Jimin, but he knew he may as well be eating air. Still, judging by the tears in his eyes, Yoongi could feel Jimin’s gratitude. His genuine happiness at the small gesture Yoongi had given.

The spirits twisted around them, nearly pushing them together, and Yoongi could practically hear them begging him to help the boy. And Yoongi wanted it too.

Ask us for anything. We’ll do anything for our Jiminie.

The wanderer rarely did ask for anything selfish. Or, at least, nothing that was extremely self-serving. Maybe this would be the first time since his first life.

And when Jimin finished the apple, blushing as he bowed to Yoongi, the immortal heard a sweet voice in his head. Soft, unsure, and conveyed by the spirits unintentionally, Yoongi made up his mind.

Yoongi chuckled. “You’re welcome, Jimin.”

Jimin blinked in surprise, then beamed at Yoongi, his eyes closing into crescent moons.

Oh, Yoongi was going to make this village pay for hurting this boy.

And the spirits were just as eager.

~~~

Jimin wasn’t rushing back to the tavern, his stomach still rumbling in hunger. It was a strange feeling to eat food yet feel no relief. Still, Yoongi was so kind. Jimin could only hope the stranger would stay in the village and help the people there. Secretly, he hoped the stranger might even help Jimin to learn to help the spirits as well. Maybe if Jimin could perform miracles, the village would pardon him from his slavery.

As he arrived back, such dreams fled from him.

The Madam ripped the full bag from his hands, scoffing. “Is this it? The bag is barely full!”

The Master eyed him warily, walking up to him and inspecting him. Instinctually, Jimin shied away, feeling unsure of the appraising look in his eye. Jimin’s stomach growled loudly, almost undignified. Spirits in the sky, he was so hungry… The Madam laughed at his misfortune, but the Master looked him over more.

“Is that apple juice on your mouth?”

Jimin’s face was stoic. If he showed anything, the Master would beat him, no matter what.

The Master reached out to the corner of Jimin’s lip, wiping it off his mouth, before flicking out his tongue to taste it.

Immediately the Master spat on Jimin, and the slave closed his eyes, disgusted, but used to such treatment.

“Just greasy, slave sweat. At least you were obedient this time.” He smirked, before reaching back and throwing a nearly devoured apple core to him. “There. Your dinner. To your bed. You will be expected to do double chores for your insolence tomorrow. Don’t think I forgot about you nearly stealing that bag from us.”

If Jimin wasn’t already mute, he’d have had to bite his tongue to keep from arguing. His insolence? They were the ones who had stolen the bag from Yoongi, Instead, Jimin bowed, hoping to at least feel the relief of the apple in his room. He stole up the stairs to the tiny attic. In fact, it was not truly a room, nor should it have been treated as one. The roof there was not properly insulated, meaning it was bitterly cold in winter, yet felt life a wildfire in the summer. His bed was the floor, with only a few threadbare blankets to separate him from the splinters. His pillow was a small piece of wood, just enough to raise his head from the floor, but it offered no comfort.

It was all he’d ever had, but even he knew it wasn’t nearly enough.

Still, Jimin couldn’t escape. The world was in ruin, and there was nowhere to go.

And yet…

The spirits whispered to him. Tales of the world beyond his little village. Of a life of luxury and praise. Where he’d never truly need to work again. He could wave his hand, and there would be people falling over their feet to help him.

Where he could lay in bed with his lover and feel pleasure such as he’d never known.

That’s when Jimin stopped listening.

Especially when the spirits began to whisper in his lover’s voice. And it started to sound more like a cat-eyed man from across the land.

~~~

Yoongi didn’t waste much more time with the people in the square. Already he was suspecting that this town would be very different from the others he’d seen, and not just because there was another who was blessed by the spirits. There was such a strange animosity in the people, one he couldn’t fully comprehend. While he was grateful to be left alone, it wasn’t comforting that the people he’d just saved were not immediately overwhelming him, as others did.

If anything, it already felt like he’d been there too long. There was almost an air of expectation. Of course, they should be saved, but that he’d forced them to act like decent people was a mark against Yoongi. He sighed at that thought. Not a good sign, and not something he truly wanted to see to its final stage.

He walked back to the Kim residence, only to find a young man on the steps.

He was younger than Jimin, perhaps shy a year or two. He had innocent doe eyes, and his nose was slightly too big for his face, but his body was hard from years of work. Or it would be, if he hadn’t been starving. The boy looked up, and Yoongi nearly flinched, his gaze strong and confident.

“You’re a sorcerer, yes?”

Yoongi wasn’t really sure how to react, but he shrugged. “I’ve been called that before.”

“…So, you can see spirits?”

“Can you?”

The boy paused for a moment, then sighed. “No… But Jimin mentioned them to me once.”

“Jimin? The slave?”

The boy’s hackles rose at that, and he puffed out his chest to intimidate Yoongi. “If you truly think that he’s just a slave, then you are just as vile as most people in this place. He’s an amazing person and deserves to be taken care of. Instead, he’s in the hands of Mr and Mrs Bae, and he deserves to be treated like a human!”

“Hey, kid… I only asked because I thought he was mute. How did he tell you that he can see spirits?”

The boy blinked, then deflated, his cheeks going pink. “O-oh… I thought… Um… Sorry.”

“It’s fine, really.” Yoongi smirked and ruffled his hair, not really thinking it through. Somehow, though, the boy relaxed more…

Before he started to cry.

Yoongi just stared, unsure what to do, what was even happening. He reached out and awkwardly rubbed the boy’s back, looking around for someone to help, but no one was there. Convenient for them. “Look, kid, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… scare you?”

“No, no. It’s not that.” The younger cried, his voice weak from trying to suppress sobs.

“…Then what is it?”

The boy looked up at him, his doe eyes somehow wider and more vulnerable because of his tears. “If you’re a sorcerer, then you have to help me.”

Yoongi sighed. Already. A personal favour. How was he going to turn this crying kid down-

“Please save Jimin-hyung.”

… Good thing he didn’t automatically say no.

“What do you mean, save him?” Yoongi tried to keep his interest out of his voice, but he suspected the crying boy wouldn’t notice.

“…I’d ben saving all my money and allowance. Buying a slave, even for my family, isn’t cheap. It’s best to buy a young child, which is cheap, and break them in. But buying an adult is very expensive. I wanted to purchase Jimin from the Baes, but I never had enough for them to accept my offer. And the last time I tried, the Baes told my parents, who then cut off my allowance. They don’t want Jimin near me. But he’s my hyung. So, I wanted to ask… Will you loan me money? I’ll pay it back, I’m sure we both will! I just can’t stand him being there anymore. If you hadn’t arrived, I think he might have already died! Please!”

As the boy begged, he got onto his knees and began to bow, which Yoongi immediately stopped, pulling him up. “Enough of that, you don’t need to beg.”

The boy sniffled, wiping at his face and smearing some snot on his lip. “You… You’ll help us?”

“I mean, yes, but-”

And the boy flung himself at Yoongi, pulling the smaller into a bone-crushing hug. The boy began to laugh wildly, nearly a witch’s cackle, as he began to pour out praises and gratitude. Yoongi just waited for it to be over, hoping the snot he’d spotted hadn’t appeared on his clothing.

The boy stepped back and bowed before Yoongi could stop him. “I promise I’ll get the money back to you.”

“Hey, no. I’m not giving you money.”

The boy blinked. “What?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Just that. I’m not exactly into giving out loans. If I’m giving money for this, I don’t expect a return. But more importantly, I have a feeling that, even with a large deposit, they won’t be parting with their slave.”

“…What do you mean?” The boy’s large eyes looked watery again, and Yoongi was no longer in the mood for waterworks.

“Do you know the Kims?”

“Yes. They’re my friends.”

“…They like Jimin as well, yes?”

“…They love him. He’s easy to love.”

Yoongi agreed whole-heartedly. “Then let’s do some scheming, shall we? What’s your name?”

The boy sniffled, but seemed to be become sure of himself again, his faux-confidence slipping into place. “Jeon Jeongguk.”

“Min Yoongi. Shall we?”

~~~

Jimin woke up, feeling full for the first time in a long time. Not just feeling like he ate an apple, but like he’d eaten a whole bushel of them. He stood and stretched his aching body, wondering if he would feel better on a real bed, before he began his chores.

He usually woke long before dawn, his body knowing how it felt to sleep too long, then be beaten later. Besides, if he wanted to visit the hill and sit with the spirits, he needed all his other work completed.

He swept, cleaned, started the breakfast dishes, ready for instant reheating, got the tavern perfectly ready for opening. The last step was to bring water from the well, which he believed must be flowing again. But it was also the step that let him sit for a small while. If he was lucky, he might see the Kims or his Kookie on the way back. He picked up his bucket and began the walk to his spot.

Above him, the spirits were dancing, singing, tumbling over each other. They were so excited at Yoongi’s presence, that their voices were a blur of joy in Jimin’s ears, and the slave was just as excited. He nearly ran up the hill to his spot, desperate to see the sunrise that he nearly missed because of his own death.

The spirits brushed against him in that moment, more physical than ever, trying to assure him that he would not perish. Jimin giggled, the sound foreign to his own ears, but still a sweet sound.

“I was hoping to find you here.”

Jimin jumped at the voice, but the spirits were calm. Which could only mean…

Yoongi appeared from the bottom of the hill, looking a little winded. “You come here every day?”

Jimin couldn’t respond. Literally. But even if he had a tongue he wouldn’t know how to talk to the stranger. In the faint light of the breaking dawn, the man was somehow more beautiful, his pale skin looking silvery, and his dark hair a lovely contrast. Jimin licked his lips and turned away, not wanting to stare too long at him, or into his sharp, feline eyes.

The man just chuckled, and sat next to Jimin, before sighing gently. “…I’m not sure what I should think about this place. The spirits were desperate to bring me here, but now I’ve arrived, they seem uninterested. Do you know why that could be?”

Jimin tried not to respond, schooling his features, but he could hear the spirits respond. They hurled abuse to the residents, spouted curses on the people that had driven the land into the ground. The slave agreed with them, but it would be selfish to disclose such opinions to Yoongi. After all, he was the villages last hope.

“…The spirits here really don’t like these people, do they?”

Jimin gasped, and glared at Yoongi, trying to imply that he shouldn’t have said such a thing, but the other man just laughed.

“Now, now, Jimin. I’m not the type to care what these people think. I just saved all their lives, and yet the only gratitude I’ve had is from you, Jeongguk, and the Kims.”

Jeongguk… Jimin mouthed the word without realising before he hid his mouth. He shouldn’t reveal his thoughts. Not even to Yoongi. It was one thing to beg for food. But he shouldn’t speak about others. He’d been taught that lesson long ago.

Yoongi tilted his head and sighed. “…He begged me to buy you from the Baes.” Jimin shivered at the name. Not that he’d ever escape them. When Jeongguk had last attempted to buy him, the Baes had told Jimin they’d never let him be purchased. He was too valuable to the tavern to be let go. And Jimin knew they were right. He did everything for his lazy masters. But it was that or face more punishment.

It was all he knew.

“But Jimin… You won’t be bought by them. No… I’ve a better plan.”

Blinking in confusion, Jimin looked back into Yoongi’s eyes. A mistake; he could easily get lost there.

“But first, you need to know something about yourself, little one.”

Jimin tried not to let the name affect him. Yet his traitorous heart squeezed in delight.

“You need to learn to speak.”

And Jimin just sighed. He opened his mouth wide, showing off his lack of tongue. Normally he’d be too embarrassed to show it, but Yoongi really needed to know he wasn’t mute on purpose. However, the other man laughed and lifted Jimin’s jaw up, closing it.

“Not like that. I know you’ve been purposefully disabled. But you have a power these villagers don’t have.”

The younger tilted his head. Power? Seeing the spirits and hearing them was lovely, but he had no real power. Not like Yoongi.

Yoongi looked around and sighed. “All this time, these spirits have spoken with you, and they’ve never offered?”

Jimin frowned, but the spirits were… sheepish?

“Jimin, ask them. Ask them for help.”

But how would that help him?

“Jimin, I mean it. Ask them to speak out your words.”

The spirits didn’t work like tha-

“Stop making excuses in your head, and do it.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, feeling overwhelmed by Yoongi’s remarks. He wanted to tell him to leave him alone, but he knew that the other wouldn’t stop. He could tell. Even the spirits seemed restless, like they were waiting for Jimin to try.

“What are you waiting for? Permission? You have it!”

Jimin felt himself shivering. He couldn’t. He’d be punished.

“Just try it once, please.”

The masters would hurt him if they knew. He’d been muted for a reason!

“The spirits are waiting.”

He wasn’t allowed!

“I’m waiting too.”

“Just stop it! I’ll be punished if they hear me!”

Silence.

Jimin looked up, confused, only to see a sight that made his heart clench again. Yoongi was smiling bright, showing off a gummy smile that warmed Jimin. The silence was then broken by the spirits singing with pride. Yoongi laughed gently, before he cupped Jimin’s cheek.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Jimin paled, realising what he was insinuating. And yet… he’d done it? He felt like his mind was… strangely loose. Like he’d had a band wrapped tight around it, but that band had been replaced by a detachable string. All it took was a slight tug…

“I… can speak?”

Jimin felt the rush of magic from his throat. It didn’t hurt, it didn’t even feel like it drained him. It just felt like a spirit slipped through his body for a moment. Pleasant, safe.

Yoongi nodded. “You can if you choose to. And you could probably do more if you wanted.”

Jimin looked at him in awe. “It’s surprisingly easy.”

Yoongi smirked. “I know. Hence why I’m sad that these spirits never offered. Seems like they didn’t want you helping these villagers. So, they didn’t help you develop your powers.”

“So, am I like you?”

“I think you are. But I’m guessing this town only lasted this long because of your presence. The spirits are so angry at these people. Do you know why?”

…Yes. Jimin did. Anyone with a brain could figure it out. The land had been worked until there was no life left. The forest was all gone, with only a great, unworkable plane remaining. There was once a factory that exported food, but it had long ago poisoned the air. It was abandoned, but the damage remained. The people were greedy and selfish. Jimin may be the last slave in the town, but merely two generations ago, there were more slaves than normal people in the town. Most of the slaves were dead from being overworked or starved. And as the town began to die, so too did the slaves.

Except him.

And maybe Yoongi was right. The spirits wanted him to live but would no longer help the town.

“…Did they choose to kill the town, over saving me?”

He heard the spirits begin to weep at his question. But he thought it was fair.

Yoongi sighed. “…The spirits were begging me to come here, quickly as well. They wanted to save you desperately. I don’t think they had the power to keep you alive. It wasn’t as simple as choosing one or the other. The people were killing the land and, by extension, the spirits. Those spirits held onto life to save you. But they weren’t strong enough. So, they called for me. And now you’ve been saved. But these spirits… They don’t want me to save them. They want to rest, and let these people die.”

Jimin shook his head, “But then everyone will die!”

Yoongi smiled ruefully. “Well, not everyone. But I leave that choice up to you.”

A bell was heard from the town below, and Jimin gasped. The morning bells.

He was late.

He was so late!

He sprung to his feet, picking up the empty bucket, and wondering if it was worth bringing water back.

Yoongi frowned and stood with him. “I’ll come with you. I’ll make sure they know I forced you to help me. If they punish you, anyway, have the spirits call for me.”

Jimin felt tears well in his eyes, overwhelmed. He didn’t deserve such kindness.

But he longed for it. And he wanted so much more.

~~~

Yoongi followed Jimin through the town. The people were starting to emerge, but they didn’t look at him as he passed. Yoongi could feel the disdain of the spirits increasing. The creatures were used to such treatment from their beloved Jimin, but the people had a ‘reason’ in such a case. But the spirits were not turning a blind eye to Yoongi also being treated poorly. Honestly, Yoongi felt more unsettled as time went, the animosity of the spirits increasing his own unease.

Jimin arrived at the tavern, where two people were outside, obviously waiting for him. Before Yoongi could even speak, the man lifted his cane and struck Jimin’s head, causing the man to cry out in pain.

Yoongi immediately stepped between them, catching the cane in his hand. “What the hell are you doing?!”

The man sneered. “Punishing my slave for his disobedience, what does it look like. Get out of my way, it is my right to do this!”

Yoongi grimaced. “I am the one who forced your slave to assist me. You punishing him is not making me want to help your village any more than I have.”

Mrs Bae, as Yoongi now assumed, scoffed. “You grew some trees. Big deal. The village needs more than that. And you’re just a stranger. There will be more of you around in mere weeks.”

Yoongi scoffed. “Oh really? When was the last person to pass through this township?” When no answer came, he rolled his eyes. “Your slave was moments from death when I found him. I revived him, not knowing his station. But perhaps I should have left him there to teach you a lesson.”

Mr Bae ripped his cane away. “But he’s still alive. Therefore, he is under our command.”

Yoongi huffed. “…Then I will buy him from you.”

The Baes paused, then laughed. “Oh, that’s hilarious. But even you don’t have enough money to make us get rid of him.”

Yoongi felt the spirits around him. They were angry. Beyond angry.

As was Yoongi.

“Oh, you misunderstand. I’m not going to buy him with money. I’m going to buy him with your own lives.”

The Baes eyes darkened. “Was that a threat?”

“…A promise. If Jimin ever does what you tell him, his presence, his hands, his work will poison every task he completes.” He felt the spirits swim through him, before landing into Jimin, and somehow the curse grew stronger as a result.

The Baes growled. “You can’t do that.”

Yoongi smirked. “If he sweeps for you, the floor will begin to rot. If he cooks, his food will make you sick. If he serves a customer, that customer will attack you both in a rage they cannot control. These are only some things you will experience if you force him to stay. Mark my words, you will wish he was gone by the end of the day.”

Mr Bae gripped Jimin’s arm. “Get inside! I’ll deal with this idiot.”

Jimin looked at Yoongi, and the older saw something that made him proud. Determination.

The slave would be free come sundown.

Jimin walked into the tavern, and immediately a large crack appeared above the door frame, nearly splitting the house in two.

The Baes stared at said damage, horror on their faces. Yoongi, on the other hand, chuckled. “You made your choice. Oh, and don’t bother beating him. Any mark on his body will be twice-fold on your own.”

With that, Yoongi left. His work, for now, was done.

~~~

Jimin thought it would take longer. He truly did.

They made him reheat the food he’d made. So, he did. The moment they swallowed their first mouthful, they were both vomiting uncontrollably. Jimin wondered for a moment if he could eat the food, hating seeing it go to waste. When the spirits whispered encouragement to him, he smirked.

He would be free.

So, he ate in front of them. And it was so good that he moaned in delight. He hadn’t known he was such a great cook.

Mrs Bae managed to pause her nausea and saw him eating. She screeched at him and slapped him so hard the dish broke on the ground. The impact, however, backfired to her, and she flew into the wall, an immediate bruise swelling her cheek.

Mr Bae watched it happen, shock morphing his features.

Jimin sneered at him, all the malice he felt for the man welling in his heart. With the spirits at his side, he whispered to him. “Anything else, Master?”

He was pushed out of the house, nearly thrown. Yet even the small impact Jimin had caused pain to Mr Bae. Where Jimin had scraped his leg, Mr Bae now sported a broken leg. The man whimpered and cried like Jimin had never heard.

Mrs Bae had run around, finding a piece of paper, flinging it at him.

“Take it! It’s yours! Don’t ever come back, curse!”

The spirits took that as a sign to push the pair into their house, and lock them in.

Jimin, meanwhile, took one look at the paper before him. His proof of ownership papers. It had been that easy. All along. He looked up at the spirits, questioning. Even the spirits were a bit unsettled at how easy it had been. They expected a great fight. But the Baes had been cowards that couldn’t handle the pain they had given him for decades.

The man, no longer a slave, stood up and brushed himself off, smiling.

It was time to visit his friends. And he didn’t think he would go back to that tavern. He preferred to see it and the Baes burn. And he had to tell the spirits not to do just that. After all, he didn’t want that on his own conscience. But if the spirits did something anyway… Well, Jimin wouldn’t argue.

He ran to the Kims, ignoring the stares of people who knew where he should be. Some even yelled at him to go back to his duties, but Jimin was free! And he would never go back. Laughing like a madman, he ran to his friends, the few who had treated him with respect.

He reached the manor, yet before he could knock on the door, two pairs of arms held him back.

“I see this slave thinks the witch will free him.”

Jimin paled. The town guards? Did they have nothing better to do? And who was this witch?

…Yoongi?

One of the guards sighed. “He even has found his property papers. Thought you could become a free man? Not on our watch. Back to the Baes you go.”

Jimin began to shake. No… He wouldn’t go back. He refused. He was free, they had set him free! In his fear, he forgot how he could speak, too used to his own silence. He thrashed in their hold, but they were bulkier than Jimin. The men had never suffered until the well had run out. Jimin had grown up starving.

He cried out, the sound garbled, nearly inhuman from his ruined mouth.

“Let him go this instant!”

The men both turned to see a furious Jeongguk. They both sighed and looked at the Jeon heir, patronizing gazes already fixed before they even spoke. “I’m sure you believe he’s done no wrong, but he’s attempting to have the witch free him. That’s illegal, and the Baes will likely be furious at him. We’re taking him back. Do you understand?”

Jeongguk snarled out, “He IS already free. The Baes threw him out of their tavern, telling him to never come back. If you weren’t so obsessed with watching out for ‘the witch’ you would already know that. And you’ve only been here for five minutes! How could you know anything!”

The guards let Jimin go, incensed at Jeongguk. “The tavern owners would never give up on this slave. If they did, then the witch already did something, and he should be tried for the crime of stealing a slave.”

“He didn’t steal me.”

Jeongguk gasped, yet still looked at Jimin in awe.

The guards turned to Jimin like he had grown another head. One with smallpox covering him. Like he was just a disease.

A witch.

Jimin smirked. “If you try to take me back, there won’t be a tavern to go back to. Because I will never go back. And you can’t make me.”

The guards were pale, truly terrified. And the moment they comprehended Jimin’s last words, they began to run. Screaming out that Jimin was a witch.

And that wasn’t good.

Jeongguk rushed forward, pulling Jimin into the Kims home, not bothering to knock. Inside were all Jimin’s friends and hyungs. In fact, the seven people in that room were the only ones Jimin cared for. The only ones worthy of leaving the town.

The spirits whispered to him, agreeing and ready to defend them all.

Yoongi stood up. “…It’s time, isn’t it?”

Jimin nodded, before smiling bright. “Hyungs… I’m free.”

The Kims all stared, shocked. It wasn’t until Taehyung started to laugh, loud and bright, that the others started shouting and yelling, before crowding around Jimin and hugging him tight. They cheered for him and congratulated him before Taehyung pulled back and nearly yelled. “When did you learn to speak? You sound so cute! Do it again!”

Jimin giggled and responded. “I think I can do that!”

Taehyung whooped and picked up Jimin, swinging him around.

There was then insistent knocking on the door. Before Seokjin could answer, Yoongi stopped him. “There are villagers outside.”

Jeongguk frowned. “Already?”

“Oh, they were already on their way. Despite me saving them, they immediately viewed me as a dangerous witch. They’re here to burn me on a pyre. They have recently decided to make two pyres.”

The other men looked alarmed, but Jimin just smiled. “But we won’t let that happen, will we?”

Yoongi smiled gently at him, and Jimin couldn’t help how his heart fluttered. Jimin wasn’t sure what that meant at that moment, but he was ready to see it through. The younger sorcerer walked up to the older, and Yoongi nodded.

“The fruit they’ve all eaten… The spirits can make it poison with just a word.”

The others gasped in realisation. “Including us?”

Jimin shook his head. “No… The spirits love you all. Because you’ve loved and cared for me. But the town…”

Jeongguk nodded. “It’s rotten to the core.”

Hoseok sighed. “…Is there truly nothing left here?”

Namjoon nodded, his jaw tense. “I think we’ve all known that we’re all that we have.”

Yoongi looked to Jimin, “You say the word, Jimin. And it will all be over.”

It’s strange… If the people in the town had been kinder. Had treated him with decency, like his breath wasn’t an affront, like he was worth more than the duties he endlessly fulfilled… maybe Jimin would have taken longer to think. Maybe he would have mourned the people, knowing his words would end a whole town.

But years of being treated worse than livestock and looked at like he was dirt had worn him down. He was only alive because of the few people in the room, both literally and figuratively.

Jimin closed his eyes, and he felt the spirits listening, begging him, baiting him.

The former slave exhaled slowly, letting all his pain go with one sentence.

“Do it.”

~~~

Yoongi had asked the spirits to take the people back to their homes before they executed Jimin’s command. Not because of any kindness to the people, but rather so they wouldn’t see the faces of the dead. He knew Jimin wasn’t yet strong enough to have the spirits perform such a complex task. But the spirits were willing to do anything for the younger sorcerer.

But he wouldn’t tell Jimin. He knew he needed this victory, more, perhaps, then the fruit he greedily ate. Jeongguk told him to slow down at one point, only for Taehyung to hit the youngest, and tell him off for saying such a thing to Jimin.

They all left the Kim mansion, taking only essentials for living. Jimin didn’t have anything, but the others found plenty for him. Yoongi promised that Jimin would have plenty that was his own when they found their next home.

Jimin had smiled happily, and Yoongi nearly sighed happily at the sight. He kept it in, but based on Seokjin’s grin, Yoongi hadn’t kept his interest completely in.

It had been so long since Yoongi had felt anything like it. Interest? Attraction?

Love?

He wasn’t ready for such thoughts, and neither, honestly, was Jimin. The younger had lived a life alone and in pain. He deserved to live a happy life, long before he needed a life with a partner. Yet, when they found some horses in the Jeon stable, enough for all of them, Seokjin had started arguing with Jeongguk, stating that they’d been hiding the steeds from the village, only for Jeongguk to insist they hadn’t been there that morning, yet alone over the last few weeks. Yoongi didn’t want to state it was likely the spirits giving a wonderful gift. Meanwhile, Jimin looked at Yoongi with joy.

“I’ve always wanted to ride a horse! Have you ridden one, hyung?”

The name caught him off-guard, but he chuckled. “I’ve ridden many. Maybe hyung can teach you.”

Jimin blushed slightly, the colour beautiful on his still gaunt cheeks. How beautiful they would be if they were plump with vitality.

“Will you call me that name again, hyung?”

Yoongi blinked. “Which name, Jimin-ah?”

Jimin sucked in a small breath, his cheeks going pinker again. “…What you called me on the hill.”

In a moment, Yoongi was rendered a flustered mess. He’d hoped Jimin would forget that slip up. But instead, the younger had clung to it. Yoongi was a weak man. And Jimin already had him wrapped around his finger.

“…Anything for you, Little One.”