(for glassfromscars) Feels Like Magic (When I’m Next to You) [2/2]
Title: Feels Like Magic (When I’m Next to You)
part one
Jongin gets stronger day by day, and Joonmyun grows fonder of him day by day, too.
Something changes in Jongin after the day in the village. He still shies away around strangers, around those he’s not Familiar with, but he’s a lot more talkative with Joonmyun and Joonmyun’s friends. He even manages to assist Joonmyun with his preliminary exams, combining his Earth energy with Joonmyun’s Water to create a towering Blackheart sassafras tree. Joonmyun gets the best marks in his grade, and the harsh words from the underclassmen, from his cohort, stop. Joonmyun’s made a space for Jongin in his room now, shoving all his unnecessary books to storage, and these days, he finds that he’s lulled to sleep by Jongin’s even breathing more than the latest chapter on transfiguration.
But peace, ah, peace is a tricky thing, and it only lasts for so long.
The alarm that blares through Joonmyun’s dreams is rude and caustic, jerks him out of sleep and into bleary consciousness. For a moment he thinks he’s still stuck in that blurry space between slumber and waking. The noise, however, does not die down and grows ever more urgent. There is yelling in the hallways, and doors bang as they’re slammed close and burst open.
“What’s going on?” Joonmyun says, sitting up and fighting off the tug of sleep. “What’s happening out there?”
“I don’t know,” Jongin says, eyes big and afraid. Joonmyun frowns, throwing the covers off and striding to their door. Mages and Familiars are rushing up and down the hallways, words flying between each other, names being shouted over the din.
“What happened?” Joonmyun catches Minseok’s wrist as he passes by their doorway, his arm curled protectively around Yixing’s shoulders. It looks laughable, considering Minseok is still shorter than his Familiar, but in a time like this, Minseok has never looked more intimidating. “What’s going on?”
“Some Mages went missing,” Minseok says, face dark. He nods down the hallway where everyone is running. “Everyone wants to go see for themselves if the rumors are true, but I’ve seen it myself. Three rooms, all empty and spattered with blood. That second year from our house, Park Jimin and his unprecedented double-summon of two metal and fire Familiars are gone, as are all four of the other boys associated with him. It’s a crime scene.”
Joonmyun feels a warm, soft touch to his arm and instinctively draws Jongin close. “What happens now?”
“Well, we wait for ord-”
“Attention, all Mages and Familiars.” The commotion freezes when Headmaster Wu’s voice booms over the hallways, an amplification spell at work. “Apologies to have disturbed you all at this late hour, but I bear an urgent message: stay in your rooms. Mages, keep your Familiars close. Familiars, do not venture a step out of your Mage’s sight. Keep your bonds strong. There has been an incident that requires immediate action. It would be greatly appreciated if everyone returned to their spaces until it is resolved.”
Minseok’s face is grim when the message ends, punctuated with a brisk click. Murmuring erupts in the hallway-suspicious, scared whispers.
“Keep on your toes,” Minseok says, nodding tightly. “We’ll see you around, right?”
“Right,” Joonmyun agrees. He shuts the door, casts a protection spell over it, and then for good measures, locks and chains it before turning around to meet Jongin’s gaze. For a moment, they just stare silently at each other, before Joonmyun is pulling Jongin into his embrace.
“God,” Joonmyun whispers, “I can’t imagine what that’s like. I mean, it’s horrible, if they all were-if they all were killed, but imagine if one of them will have to go on alone after his Familiar was forcibly ripped away from him and taken from his side. I don’t know how I’d do it. I couldn’t-”
“Hyung,” Jongin says, words muffled on Joonmyun’s temple. His lips are so warm. Joonmyun’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of Jongin’s soft mouth just barely brushing his forehead. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t be afraid. I’ll never leave your side.”
Joonmyun feels flush tint his cheeks when Jongin presses a kiss to his cheekbone, the spot where his lips touch Joonmyun’s skin burning. “Thank you,” he says, presses his face harder into Jongin’s shoulder. “Thank you, Jongin.”
The attacks and disappearances don’t stop after the eerie, unsolved septuple-homicide that had faded into irrelevance as the weeks wear on. After a while, the gossip turns back to the same old-academics, romantic sabotage, the usual. For two weeks, things are quiet, until one dewy, beautiful morning after a night-long thunderstorm. A scream pierces the dull hum of the dining hall just as Joonmyun is about to pour cream into his coffee.
“There’s someone on the gate! There’s someone dead on the gate!”
The headmaster stands up with a dark frown upon his face. The student is wheezing, holding a stitch in his side, before he repeats, “There’s a student hanging from the arch of the gate!”
A thunderous noise of people jumping out of their seats rumbles through the hall, everyone scrambling for the entrance. Jongin’s hand tightens around Joonmyun’s arm, where his wrist is hooked into the crook of Joonmyun’s elbow. Joonmyun nods, setting his mug down. He had heard only of stories of Park Jimin and his missing cohort. He has to see if this one is true with his own eyes.
His feet, and no doubt Jongin’s, are trodden on when he push their way outside. The crowd surges around them in waves, until Joonmyun nearly runs into the solid wall of people before him. Everyone is staring up, up, at a dark shadow that is indeed dangling from the iron wrought gate to the school. The unraveled ends of the rope dance in the cruel wind and wind around the letters of SCHOLOMANCE, framed in the arch.
“Headmaster Wu coming through, coming through!”
Joonmyun’s stomach churns, and he steps aside mechanically to let the headmaster through. He’s glad he hasn’t eaten any breakfast yet. The student’s feet turn like two needles of a compass in the wintry breeze, lazy and unhurried-south, southwest, west, southwest, south. Blood drips from the soles of this shoes into a pool on the pavements. His abdomen is torn open, a bloody mess, long fleshy entrails hanging out of his body like spiderwebs.
“Oh, my God,” Jongin says, breath shaking. In front of them, Baekhyun sits on Chanyeol’s shoulder, translucent blue-pink wings opening and closing, fist gripping a lock of Chanyeol’s hair tightly. “Oh, no.”
Baekhyun twists around at the sound of Jongin’s voice. “His name was Bobby,” he says, a hand pressed to his mouth. “He was a Prefect, too. Hanbin was his Familiar.”
“Bobby,” Joonmyun whispers, voice choked. As much as Bobby annoyed the living daylights out of him at their Prefectural meetings, tried to pick fights with him out of house pride, this-this was a fate too cruel and untimely to befall anyone. “This can’t-this can’t be real.”
“Everyone,” the headmaster says, voice calm and level, “back into the dining hall. The gates are off limits until this pupil’s body is cleared away. Remain inside until further notice.”
They file back into the hall with heavy hearts and no appetites. Jongin curls into Joonmyun’s side, hugging Joonmyun’s arm to his chest. “Do you think it was the same thing that got the other seven?”
“I don’t know, Jongin.”
“Or maybe it was you.”
Joonmyun whirls around to face Jinhwan, one of Bobby’s friends. Jinhwan’s standing there, arms crossed in front of him defensively. The hubbub in the dining hall dies down, and their eyes turn to Joonmyun and Jinhwan just standing there, in the middle of the aisle.
“This is a Mage’s life we’re talking about,” Joonmyun says quietly, so that only Jinhwan can heard. “I’m not here to cause trouble, and I’m not entertaining your ridiculous claims, that’s a no no. Sit down.” Joonmyun turns to leave, escape the hall, go back to the dorms where there are no eyes, no one to stare at him, accuse him of things he hasn’t done, but Jinhwan simply raises his voice even louder.
“We remember your brother,” Jinhwan says, and Joonmyun freezes on the spot, chills travelling up the back of his neck. “Five years ago. We remember it all. How the barrier of the summoning circle broke. How he summoned a Yin Daemon, attacked the students in the corridor right outside, consumed their Yang energy for himself. Sin flows in blood.”
There are whispers. Whispers, suspicious, malicious, vicious, venomous, and Joonmyun feels faint.
“Hyung,” Jongin says, resting a hand on Joonmyun’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Hyung, don’t mind it, let’s go. Let’s go back to your room.”
Walking away will make him look guilty. It’ll make him look like he’s the one who did it, committed all these atrocities, but right now, Joonmyun can’t stand being in that dining hall with all the noise.
“Yeah,” Joonmyun says, and Jongin gives his shoulder another squeeze. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Joonmyun doesn’t switch the lights on when they get back to the room, instead falling straight onto his bed and curling up. Moments later, he feels a warm body snuggle up next to him, and he turns, just holding Jongin in his arms wordlessly.
“It’s not me,” Joonmyun finally says. His voice is choked. Jongin simply pulls him closer, running his fingers through Joonmyun’s hair.
“I know, hyung,” Jongin says, burying his face into Joonmyun’s chest. “I know. I’ve been next to you the whole time. You don’t have a mean bone in your body.”
“But what if I do?” Joonmyun licks his lips. “My brother. I never told you about him. He was one of the best Mages here, at Scholomance, perfect record. And then, on the day he was meant to do his summoning…” Joonmyun trails off, wincing. “I was only in first form. I didn’t know much, but people were screaming, saying how he’d summoned a Yin Daemon, that he’d gone on a rampage, been taken over by Yin energy, and was killing students off and absorbing their Yang and turning it to Yin. I couldn’t believe it. My brother, he was… He’d only ever been kind and good to me. This just didn’t make sense. But if it could happen to him, then…” Joonmyun takes a shaky breath in. “It could happen to me, too.”
Jongin rubs circles into Joonmyun’s back. “But hyung, you forget. You’re not your brother. And you didn’t summon a Yin Daemon, you summoned…” Jongin grins ruefully, motioning to himself. “Me. A Grade Five Earth Faerie. The lowest of the low.”
“Don’t say that,” Joonmyun chastises, hitting Jongin’s arm gently, but he’s already feeling the heady dizziness of panic subside, the hammering in his chest fade to a steady thrum. “I wouldn’t trade you for any other Familiar in the world. I couldn’t imagine having a Familiar other than you. So don’t say things like that.”
Jongin laughs. “I know. And I couldn’t have been bound to a better Mage.” Jongin pulls away for a moment, face going serious. The pendant around Jongin’s neck hangs between them, emanating a golden warmth. “Hey, hyung, if anything happens, I’ll do my best to protect you. I’ll protect you, no matter what it takes, I promise.”
“And I, you,” Joonmyun says, drawing Jongin in close. “Thank you, Jongin. For being here.”
Jongin gives Joonmyun a quick peck on the cheek, snuggling in, breath warm and even on Joonmyun’s collarbones, and for that night, Joonmyun is able to sleep a little easier.
The attacks go on.
In the next week, three girls go missing in broad daylight and their bodies turn up wedged between the stones of the stream some ways across the estate of the school. Two weeks after the Bobby incident, a seventh-year Mage in the same class as Minseok, Cha Hakyeon, is found dead in his own room. From what Joonmyun heard, they’d found him caged under his Familiar’s body, Jung Taekwoon’s skin streaked with Hakyeon’s blood. Others, nameless others, are slaughtered in what seems like cold blood. Familiars are left without Mages and Mages have their Familiars ripped away from them. Joonmyun learns it’s like losing a limb.
“How long is this going to keep going?” Kyungsoo, ever the grumbler, scuffs his shoes in the snow. “I’m sick of being in lockdown. I’m sick of not being able to leave to the village to get potions and ingredients. I’m sick of all the hexes we’ve been getting lately. You know those ratty kids from the other house put a shrink hex me so that I kept shrinking a centimetre each day? I didn’t even notice until I couldn’t see myself in the bathroom mirror.”
“I don’t mind,” Jongdae says, grinning like a cheshire cat. He lands on his feet, growing so he’s human-sized, and puts an elbow on Kyungsoo’s head. “Perfect height for me.”
“Sorry,” Joonmyun says, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re only doing that because you’re friends with me. Everyone thinks I’ve got something to do with it.”
“What are you sorry for?” Zitao says, rolling his eyes. “We all know it’s not you committing all the crimes. Heck, I can hear Jongin snoring from my room every night. And plus, all our rooms are now locked with a Grade One protection spell, nobody allowed in or out after curfew.”
Chanyeol sighs, throwing a pebble at the elm tree, sending a pelt of snow crashing down on Joonmyun’s head. “But then, who could it be? The headmaster and professors have been investigating this for ages, and they’ve turned up nothing. Nada. If you ask me, the protection spell isn’t useful at all if the perpetrator is someone super powerful outside Scholomance. Someone who can break a Grade One spell. A graduated Mage, perhaps. A stray Yin creature. It’s not unheard of.”
“There’s a dual invisibility and protection barrier around the school,” Yixing pipes in. “It’s the strongest in the magic world. Even graduate Mages can’t find it or break in, and the headmaster and professors are alerted once anything comes in contact with the barrier. Just in case you’ve forgotten everything from barrier casting classes, Chanyeol.”
“Right,” Chanyeol says, deflating, as Baekhyun lands on Yixing’s head and starts pulling at his hair. “Well, then. This just got fucking terrifying. It’s like a locked room murder.”
“More like we’re sheep in a pen and there’s a crazy psycho chasing after us with a sharpened butcher knife,” Jongdae says dryly. “Baaaaa!” Jongdae makes a stabbing motion at Baekhyun, who clutches at his throat and falls to Chanyeol’s lap, mock dead. “Lamb roast for dinner?”
“This is a very unconducive discussion,” Minseok says, clapping his hands together, tight smile on his face. “Why don’t we move on to a less morbid topic? And, considering curfew is in ten minutes, relocate ourselves to the common room?”
“I’ve got hallway duty until lights off,” Joonmyun says, hopping off the bench. Jongin follows, stumbling after Joonmyun, and Sehun giggles a little, exchanging looks with Zitao. “Take care, all of you. I’ll see you all at the dining hall bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, Prefect, you too,” Baekhyun says, saluting Joonmyun, and Joonmyun just rolls his eyes before taking Jongin’s hand and dragging him towards the main building. “And Jongin! Make sure you capture any suspicious looking people with your venus flytrap!”
“Is that meant to be an innuendo?” Chanyeol asks, voice fading into the distance, and Joonmyun laughs.
“Hyung.”
Joonmyun groans, stirring from his sleep. It can’t possibly be morning already. It feels like he’s only just gone to bed after Prefect duties, only just snuggled in bed, pulled the blankets over himself, said goodnight to Jongin. There’s a strange weight on his chest, like there’s a body on top of his...
Joonmyun cracks an eye open. Oh. It’s still dark, and Jongin’s face is mere inches from his. God, Jongin’s lips are so beautiful, pink and pouty. Joonmyun could lean up, tilt his head just a couple of angles, and their lips would brush, ever so gently-
A light whack to his chest jerks Joonmyun out of his reverie, and he looks up at Jongin’s face once more, this time registering the panic written on it.
“Jongin,” Joonmyun croaks out. “Jongin, what is it?”
“Hyung,” Jongin whispers, shaking Joonmyun, “You gotta get out of bed. There’s a strange noise coming from the common room. I’m scared.”
“It’s okay,” Joonmyun says, sitting up and padding to the door. He puts his ear to it. Sure enough, there’s an ethereal howling coming from the other side, and Joonmyun recoils in panic.
“Hyung, I…” Jongin bites his lower lip. “I don’t want to be trapped in here. Take me out, hyung, can you-break the spell on the door at least, so we can escape if something happens?”
Now that Joonmyun’s more awake, he’s acutely more aware that there’s something odd. Not about the noise outside, but… Jongin. Joonmyun narrows his eyes, making his way back to his bed to grab his staff. The Jongin he knows wouldn’t ask Joonmyun to bust them out. Wouldn’t ask Joonmyun to do anything reckless or stupid for the sake of his own safety. The Jongin he knows would say something dumb and cheesy like ‘I’ll stay with you, hyung, we’ll face it together’ or something similarly self-sacrificing.
And sure enough, this Jongin isn’t wearing his pendant. He always has it around his neck. It’s his most treasured item.
“You’re not…” Joonmyun raises his staff, pointing it at Jongin’s face. “You’re not my Familiar.”
“What do you mean, hyung?” Jongin says, palms out. “I’m Jongin. It’s me. You’re just confused.”
“No.” Joonmyun powers up his staff. “I know. I can tell. Our bond is strong. What have you done with Jongin?”
There’s a loud roar, a gust of wind, a burst of flames, sending all the contents of Joonmyun’s room flying in the air, alight. Joonmyun has to shade his face to stop himself from getting cut by the paper edges of his books, from getting burnt by the inferno, and he stumbles backwards, edging towards the door.
“I was going to let you do this the easy way,” a voice says, and a shadowy figure steps out of the flames, walking towards Joonmyun. Joonmyun gulps. Those robes. That circlet atop his head. This is...
“Headmaster?” Joonmyun wheezes out, eyes going wide. There’s something akin to a fire tornado in his room, and he can barely breathe from the smoke. “It was you?”
“I have Jongin,” the headmaster says, without missing a beat, “And if you don’t want him dead, you’ll come with me.”
The room the headmaster leads Joonmyun to is barren, cold, grey, hidden behind the walls of the castle, secret and unfindable. Joonmyun lets out a cry when he sees Jongin hanging up on the wall, wrists shackled to the board above him, ankles bound down. Jongin’s barely conscious. His head is hanging, and Joonmyun can feel the symbol on his wrist burning, burning a deep red.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Headmaster Wu says, flicking his wand and sending Joonmyun to the opposite wall, metal shackles clamping him down too. “You’re going to confess to all the murders.”
“What?” Joonmyun splutters. The headmaster frowns, sending a jet of air magic to Jongin’s chest, and Jongin howls in pain, golden teardrops trickling down his face. Joonmyun sobs, wishing he could reach out, do something, save his Familiar, but he’s immobilised, useless.
Useless.
“I’ve already recharged all the energy I need,” the headmaster explains, inspecting his wand. Twenty Mages’ worth of Yang energy, absorbed inside me. Should be enough to last me another five years.”
“Five…” Chills run down Joonmyun’s spine. “Did you say five years?”
The headmaster gives him a cold smile. “Seems like you understand. Your brother was the perfect scapegoat. And now, you will be too.”
“Hyung,” Jongin croaks out, lifting his head. His face is tear-streaked, golden and glittering, and Joonmyun feels his heart twist in his chest. “Hyung, don’t do it, don’t-I’ll be alright, don’t-”
The headmaster points to Jongin, an air spear driving into Jongin’s chest, and Jongin howls, squirms, screaming out in pain. “So?” the headmaster asks, driving the spell in deeper, holding it there, waiting for Joonmyun’s answer-and what can Joonmyun do? His Familiar’s in pain. Jongin’s in pain, so much pain, he’s being tortured by this monster, and the only thing Joonmyun can do to stop it is to give an answer he doesn’t want to give.
“I’ll do it,” Joonmyun sobs out. He can barely see, the heat on his wrist stinging, but nothing compared to what Jongin must be going through. “Just-stop what you’re doing to Jongin, please.”
“Very good.” The spell is released, and Jongin slumps over, wrists straining against the shackles. “Unfortunately, I’m still going to have to hold Jongin here until you fulfill your end of the de-”
“Hold it!”
Joonmyun turns his head to face the intrusion-and he’s never been more glad in his life.
It’s the whole crew. Chanyeol, Minseok, Zitao, Kyungsoo, with their Familiars, and-well, Joonmyun can only guess that’s Professor Lu at the front, today in the form of a middle-aged woman. The headmaster spins around, sending a series of fireballs from his wand, which the professor blocks with a deft water shield.
“I knew that tracker I stuck on Jongin’s ass would come in handy,” Baekhyun gloats, before putting on a serious face and baring his tiny Faerie teeth at the headmaster. “How dare you hurt our Jonginnie.”
The next series of events happens in a blur. Joonmyun’s sweating so hard, almost delirious, that he can’t quite register what happens. There’s fire everywhere, grating against his Water abilities. There’s a flash, a boom, and Joonmyun’s shackles are free, he’s collapsing on the ground, and so is Jongin on the other side, and there’s screaming and yelling and incantations shouted and fire pellets bursting up in the air, wooden shields raised, water dragons spiralling in the room, a clash of five elements, a clash of Yin and Yang. Joonmyun finally reaches Jongin, finally, cradles Jongin in his arms, wipes away his tears, and Jongin clasps Joonmyun’s hand tightly, mouthing three words, ‘I love-’
But the headmaster lets out a final roar as the professor captures him in an elemental cage, and Joonmyun whips his head to see a blinding flash of light and a series of air scythes heading right towards him, towards his head.
“No!”
Jongin moves faster than Joonmyun can react. Jongin, still holding on to Joonmyun’s hand, dives in front of him, and an unbearable slice of searing pain wracks Joonmyun’s wrist before Jongin’s struggling to his feet, an explosion of muddied vines shooting out of his fingertips. The air scythes cut through the vines, chopping them in half, and Joonmyun can only watch as Jongin’s hit, once, twice, three times, before collapsing to the ground.
And then, silence.
Jongin’s lying there, in the middle of the broken vine shield. Joonmyun’s legs are shaking. He can’t stand up. He crawls, dragging himself over the debris and leaves so he can be next to Jongin.
“Jongin?”
Fuck. Fuck. Jongin’s not moving. His body is still, so very still, the symbol on his wrist quickly fading. He’s not breathing. God. Jongin’s not breathing. Joonmyun cradles Jongin’s head, patting Jongin’s cheek. There’s a golden crystalline substance oozing out from Jongin’s skin, beginning to coat Jongin’s body, as if encasing him in a shell, cocooning him. “Jongin? Jongin, wake up, Jongin?”
“Crystallisation,” Baekhyun whispers, blanching. “I’ve only seen this once before. It’s what happens to Faeries when they’re close to death, to preserve the last of their energy.”
“He used too much power,” Jongdae says sadly, floating down and landing next to Jongin. “He must’ve really wanted to protect you.”
But Joonmyun’s not listening. He can’t hear them. It feels like his soul has left his body, that he’s just a shell. Jongin, Jongin had thrown himself in front of Joonmyun, even though he’d been tortured half to death, to protect him.
“No,” Joonmyun says, choking up. The crystal’s getting thicker now, golden, just like Jongin, setting into a hard casing, and Joonmyun’s tears leave silver splatters on the surface. “No, no, Jongin, you can’t leave me, this is-this isn’t it, you said you’d be next to me forever, didn’t you? You promised. I love you. Jongin, I love you, come back, don’t-don’t do this to me.”
“He needs Faerie Elixir,” Chanyeol says. “Minseok-hyung, you’re the fastest out of all of us here. Take them both to the infirmary. It’s a race against time now.”
“Infirmary,” Yixing says, pulling Joonmyun away from Jongin’s body. Minseok conjures up an ice sled around Jongin’s body, creating a seat behind for Joonmyun. “Hyung, we have to get him to the infirmary, now.”
“And I’ll help professor with escorting the headmaster to the Mage Trial Court,” Kyungsoo says. “It’ll be alright, Joonmyun-hyung. Hang in there.”
Professor Lu, by unanimous staff and student body vote, is appointed the new headmaster of Scholomance.
For what it’s worth, no one has ever seen the new headmaster’s true form until the day of his inauguration, and it’s a shock to every student in Scholomance. Where the old headmaster had been broad and coldly handsome, Professor Lu is-
“Motherfuck,” Chanyeol spits out, choking on air. Baekhyun thumps his back, and Kyungsoo gives him a glare that says ‘shut the fuck up Park Chanyeol, or I will murder your non-existent kittens’. “Licker of all assholes, our new headmaster is a fucking pretty boy.”
“Our new headmaster is a fucking babe,” Minseok corrects. “Look at those eyelashes.”
“Look at that body.”
“Look at that ass.”
“What ass.”
This is all recounted to Joonmyun post-inaugural breakfast, however; he’s been in the infirmary sunup and sundown. Minseok hands him a small takeout box filled with rice and kimchi. “You need to keep your strength up if you’re going to be holding seventy-two hours vigils at his bedside,” he chastises, Yixing clinging onto his arm for dear life when he’s jostled from Minseok’s shoulder. “How’s he doing?”
“Getting better. It’s slow, but I’m not going anywhere until he opens his eyes.”
The nurses aren’t super impressed with Joonmyun’s omnipresent worry hanging around the infirmary-say it’s not conducive for the patients’ speedy recoveries-but Joonmyun can’t bear to tear himself away from Jongin’s bedside.
Laughably, Joonmyun isn’t awake to see Jongin open his eyes. It’s later in the afternoon, when Joonmyun is dozing with his head pillowed in his hands-he hasn’t been getting much proper shut-eye-that he feels a soft, feathery touch to his temple. A skittering of fingertips. Joonmyun lifts his head, staring in wonder.
“Jongin?”
Jongin is awake, blinking slow and tired, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He lets his hand fall back onto the bed when Joonmyun rises from his seat, relief breaking out over his features. Jongin sighs contentedly, leaning weakly into Joonmyun’s touch when he cups Jongin’s cheek in his palm.
“Hey, hyung,” he says, voice hoarse with disuse. “Worry doesn’t suit you.”
“Oh, thank God,” Joonmyun says, leaning down to press his forehead to Jongin’s, emotion welling up under his closed eyelids. “Thank God, Jongin, you have no idea how-how-when I saw that you were hurt that bad, when you started crystallising, I didn’t think I’d see you open your eyes again."
Jongin's hand on the nape of Joonmyun's neck is warm. In one moment, he's still hovering over Jongin's mouth, and in the next their lips are meeting, soft and natural like the universe has been holding its breath waiting for this to happen.
Jongin, even after being unconscious for days, tastes like dahlias and vines and passifloras. He is, after all, an Earth Familiar; and Joonmyun is only rudely reminded of this when there are shouts of shock from the doorway of Jongin's room. He pulls away only to see the remnants of a tiny mud tornado fading away, and now there is a mess of grime and sludge all over the infirmary floor.
“Um,” Baekhyun says indignantly from Chanyeol's shoulder. He flicks dirt from his wings, wiping more from Chanyeol's cheeks. “What the hell was that?”
“Aw. Their energies intertwined. That’s kinda cute, I guess,” Sehun says, while Baekhyun makes retching sounds next to him.
“Gross,” Zitao corrects. “That was gross. The mud and the kissing. Especially the kissing.”
Because he's totally one to talk.
Joonmyun looks from the mud-spattered quartet gathered in the doorway, Chanyeol still holding a dripping, muddied bouquet of wildflowers, to Jongin, lips parting in understanding.
“Grade One,” he says in disbelief. “You powered up.”
So, for convenience's sake, Jongin assumes the standard pocket-sized Familiar form and spends his days getting better acquainted with Joonmyun's right shoulder. Apparently for lack of better things to do while Joonmyun goes from class to class, Jongin conjures up daisies and orchids and tiny rosebuds and weaves Joonmyun flower crowns all day. If he's feeling particularly edgy, he'll incorporate thorned brambles into his designs and enchant them so that they don't prick.
“Honestly,” Baekhyun says, squinting from Chanyeol's shoulder with arms crossed, “I like you better human sized. I thought you were a clumsy embarrassment of one but I take it back.”
“You're just jealous I'm threatening your #1 Hella Cute throne,” Jongin retorts, braiding ivy vines from his perch. “But as you insist.”
He clambers down from Joonmyun's shoulder along his arm, hopping onto the bench and squeezing his eyes shut. Within moments he grows to nearly Chanyeol's size, the ivy leaves looking tiny and delicate in his fingers.
“You are so noisy,” Joonmyun murmurs.
“Then give me a kiss to shut me up,” Jongin suggests brightly.
Joonmyun sighs, but leans in. It is his pleasure, honestly, if not for the immediate miniature cyclone of dirt that rises in the middle of the table.
“Stop!” Baekhyun screeches. “I was wrong! I command you to-”
He is abruptly cut off when he is smacked in the face with a clod of dirt, knocked cleanly off Chanyeol's shoulder.
Joonmyun breaks away, laughing. Things may not be perfect just yet. There’s still a lot of cleanup to do, memorial services to hold, a graduation exam to sit, and a Mage Trial to stand witness at-but more than anything, he's glad to be ending his time at Scholomance with golden days and loyal friends, and with a certain little Earth Familiar perched upon his shoulder like a heart on his sleeve.
part one
Jongin gets stronger day by day, and Joonmyun grows fonder of him day by day, too.
Something changes in Jongin after the day in the village. He still shies away around strangers, around those he’s not Familiar with, but he’s a lot more talkative with Joonmyun and Joonmyun’s friends. He even manages to assist Joonmyun with his preliminary exams, combining his Earth energy with Joonmyun’s Water to create a towering Blackheart sassafras tree. Joonmyun gets the best marks in his grade, and the harsh words from the underclassmen, from his cohort, stop. Joonmyun’s made a space for Jongin in his room now, shoving all his unnecessary books to storage, and these days, he finds that he’s lulled to sleep by Jongin’s even breathing more than the latest chapter on transfiguration.
But peace, ah, peace is a tricky thing, and it only lasts for so long.
The alarm that blares through Joonmyun’s dreams is rude and caustic, jerks him out of sleep and into bleary consciousness. For a moment he thinks he’s still stuck in that blurry space between slumber and waking. The noise, however, does not die down and grows ever more urgent. There is yelling in the hallways, and doors bang as they’re slammed close and burst open.
“What’s going on?” Joonmyun says, sitting up and fighting off the tug of sleep. “What’s happening out there?”
“I don’t know,” Jongin says, eyes big and afraid. Joonmyun frowns, throwing the covers off and striding to their door. Mages and Familiars are rushing up and down the hallways, words flying between each other, names being shouted over the din.
“What happened?” Joonmyun catches Minseok’s wrist as he passes by their doorway, his arm curled protectively around Yixing’s shoulders. It looks laughable, considering Minseok is still shorter than his Familiar, but in a time like this, Minseok has never looked more intimidating. “What’s going on?”
“Some Mages went missing,” Minseok says, face dark. He nods down the hallway where everyone is running. “Everyone wants to go see for themselves if the rumors are true, but I’ve seen it myself. Three rooms, all empty and spattered with blood. That second year from our house, Park Jimin and his unprecedented double-summon of two metal and fire Familiars are gone, as are all four of the other boys associated with him. It’s a crime scene.”
Joonmyun feels a warm, soft touch to his arm and instinctively draws Jongin close. “What happens now?”
“Well, we wait for ord-”
“Attention, all Mages and Familiars.” The commotion freezes when Headmaster Wu’s voice booms over the hallways, an amplification spell at work. “Apologies to have disturbed you all at this late hour, but I bear an urgent message: stay in your rooms. Mages, keep your Familiars close. Familiars, do not venture a step out of your Mage’s sight. Keep your bonds strong. There has been an incident that requires immediate action. It would be greatly appreciated if everyone returned to their spaces until it is resolved.”
Minseok’s face is grim when the message ends, punctuated with a brisk click. Murmuring erupts in the hallway-suspicious, scared whispers.
“Keep on your toes,” Minseok says, nodding tightly. “We’ll see you around, right?”
“Right,” Joonmyun agrees. He shuts the door, casts a protection spell over it, and then for good measures, locks and chains it before turning around to meet Jongin’s gaze. For a moment, they just stare silently at each other, before Joonmyun is pulling Jongin into his embrace.
“God,” Joonmyun whispers, “I can’t imagine what that’s like. I mean, it’s horrible, if they all were-if they all were killed, but imagine if one of them will have to go on alone after his Familiar was forcibly ripped away from him and taken from his side. I don’t know how I’d do it. I couldn’t-”
“Hyung,” Jongin says, words muffled on Joonmyun’s temple. His lips are so warm. Joonmyun’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of Jongin’s soft mouth just barely brushing his forehead. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t be afraid. I’ll never leave your side.”
Joonmyun feels flush tint his cheeks when Jongin presses a kiss to his cheekbone, the spot where his lips touch Joonmyun’s skin burning. “Thank you,” he says, presses his face harder into Jongin’s shoulder. “Thank you, Jongin.”
The attacks and disappearances don’t stop after the eerie, unsolved septuple-homicide that had faded into irrelevance as the weeks wear on. After a while, the gossip turns back to the same old-academics, romantic sabotage, the usual. For two weeks, things are quiet, until one dewy, beautiful morning after a night-long thunderstorm. A scream pierces the dull hum of the dining hall just as Joonmyun is about to pour cream into his coffee.
“There’s someone on the gate! There’s someone dead on the gate!”
The headmaster stands up with a dark frown upon his face. The student is wheezing, holding a stitch in his side, before he repeats, “There’s a student hanging from the arch of the gate!”
A thunderous noise of people jumping out of their seats rumbles through the hall, everyone scrambling for the entrance. Jongin’s hand tightens around Joonmyun’s arm, where his wrist is hooked into the crook of Joonmyun’s elbow. Joonmyun nods, setting his mug down. He had heard only of stories of Park Jimin and his missing cohort. He has to see if this one is true with his own eyes.
His feet, and no doubt Jongin’s, are trodden on when he push their way outside. The crowd surges around them in waves, until Joonmyun nearly runs into the solid wall of people before him. Everyone is staring up, up, at a dark shadow that is indeed dangling from the iron wrought gate to the school. The unraveled ends of the rope dance in the cruel wind and wind around the letters of SCHOLOMANCE, framed in the arch.
“Headmaster Wu coming through, coming through!”
Joonmyun’s stomach churns, and he steps aside mechanically to let the headmaster through. He’s glad he hasn’t eaten any breakfast yet. The student’s feet turn like two needles of a compass in the wintry breeze, lazy and unhurried-south, southwest, west, southwest, south. Blood drips from the soles of this shoes into a pool on the pavements. His abdomen is torn open, a bloody mess, long fleshy entrails hanging out of his body like spiderwebs.
“Oh, my God,” Jongin says, breath shaking. In front of them, Baekhyun sits on Chanyeol’s shoulder, translucent blue-pink wings opening and closing, fist gripping a lock of Chanyeol’s hair tightly. “Oh, no.”
Baekhyun twists around at the sound of Jongin’s voice. “His name was Bobby,” he says, a hand pressed to his mouth. “He was a Prefect, too. Hanbin was his Familiar.”
“Bobby,” Joonmyun whispers, voice choked. As much as Bobby annoyed the living daylights out of him at their Prefectural meetings, tried to pick fights with him out of house pride, this-this was a fate too cruel and untimely to befall anyone. “This can’t-this can’t be real.”
“Everyone,” the headmaster says, voice calm and level, “back into the dining hall. The gates are off limits until this pupil’s body is cleared away. Remain inside until further notice.”
They file back into the hall with heavy hearts and no appetites. Jongin curls into Joonmyun’s side, hugging Joonmyun’s arm to his chest. “Do you think it was the same thing that got the other seven?”
“I don’t know, Jongin.”
“Or maybe it was you.”
Joonmyun whirls around to face Jinhwan, one of Bobby’s friends. Jinhwan’s standing there, arms crossed in front of him defensively. The hubbub in the dining hall dies down, and their eyes turn to Joonmyun and Jinhwan just standing there, in the middle of the aisle.
“This is a Mage’s life we’re talking about,” Joonmyun says quietly, so that only Jinhwan can heard. “I’m not here to cause trouble, and I’m not entertaining your ridiculous claims, that’s a no no. Sit down.” Joonmyun turns to leave, escape the hall, go back to the dorms where there are no eyes, no one to stare at him, accuse him of things he hasn’t done, but Jinhwan simply raises his voice even louder.
“We remember your brother,” Jinhwan says, and Joonmyun freezes on the spot, chills travelling up the back of his neck. “Five years ago. We remember it all. How the barrier of the summoning circle broke. How he summoned a Yin Daemon, attacked the students in the corridor right outside, consumed their Yang energy for himself. Sin flows in blood.”
There are whispers. Whispers, suspicious, malicious, vicious, venomous, and Joonmyun feels faint.
“Hyung,” Jongin says, resting a hand on Joonmyun’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Hyung, don’t mind it, let’s go. Let’s go back to your room.”
Walking away will make him look guilty. It’ll make him look like he’s the one who did it, committed all these atrocities, but right now, Joonmyun can’t stand being in that dining hall with all the noise.
“Yeah,” Joonmyun says, and Jongin gives his shoulder another squeeze. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Joonmyun doesn’t switch the lights on when they get back to the room, instead falling straight onto his bed and curling up. Moments later, he feels a warm body snuggle up next to him, and he turns, just holding Jongin in his arms wordlessly.
“It’s not me,” Joonmyun finally says. His voice is choked. Jongin simply pulls him closer, running his fingers through Joonmyun’s hair.
“I know, hyung,” Jongin says, burying his face into Joonmyun’s chest. “I know. I’ve been next to you the whole time. You don’t have a mean bone in your body.”
“But what if I do?” Joonmyun licks his lips. “My brother. I never told you about him. He was one of the best Mages here, at Scholomance, perfect record. And then, on the day he was meant to do his summoning…” Joonmyun trails off, wincing. “I was only in first form. I didn’t know much, but people were screaming, saying how he’d summoned a Yin Daemon, that he’d gone on a rampage, been taken over by Yin energy, and was killing students off and absorbing their Yang and turning it to Yin. I couldn’t believe it. My brother, he was… He’d only ever been kind and good to me. This just didn’t make sense. But if it could happen to him, then…” Joonmyun takes a shaky breath in. “It could happen to me, too.”
Jongin rubs circles into Joonmyun’s back. “But hyung, you forget. You’re not your brother. And you didn’t summon a Yin Daemon, you summoned…” Jongin grins ruefully, motioning to himself. “Me. A Grade Five Earth Faerie. The lowest of the low.”
“Don’t say that,” Joonmyun chastises, hitting Jongin’s arm gently, but he’s already feeling the heady dizziness of panic subside, the hammering in his chest fade to a steady thrum. “I wouldn’t trade you for any other Familiar in the world. I couldn’t imagine having a Familiar other than you. So don’t say things like that.”
Jongin laughs. “I know. And I couldn’t have been bound to a better Mage.” Jongin pulls away for a moment, face going serious. The pendant around Jongin’s neck hangs between them, emanating a golden warmth. “Hey, hyung, if anything happens, I’ll do my best to protect you. I’ll protect you, no matter what it takes, I promise.”
“And I, you,” Joonmyun says, drawing Jongin in close. “Thank you, Jongin. For being here.”
Jongin gives Joonmyun a quick peck on the cheek, snuggling in, breath warm and even on Joonmyun’s collarbones, and for that night, Joonmyun is able to sleep a little easier.
The attacks go on.
In the next week, three girls go missing in broad daylight and their bodies turn up wedged between the stones of the stream some ways across the estate of the school. Two weeks after the Bobby incident, a seventh-year Mage in the same class as Minseok, Cha Hakyeon, is found dead in his own room. From what Joonmyun heard, they’d found him caged under his Familiar’s body, Jung Taekwoon’s skin streaked with Hakyeon’s blood. Others, nameless others, are slaughtered in what seems like cold blood. Familiars are left without Mages and Mages have their Familiars ripped away from them. Joonmyun learns it’s like losing a limb.
“How long is this going to keep going?” Kyungsoo, ever the grumbler, scuffs his shoes in the snow. “I’m sick of being in lockdown. I’m sick of not being able to leave to the village to get potions and ingredients. I’m sick of all the hexes we’ve been getting lately. You know those ratty kids from the other house put a shrink hex me so that I kept shrinking a centimetre each day? I didn’t even notice until I couldn’t see myself in the bathroom mirror.”
“I don’t mind,” Jongdae says, grinning like a cheshire cat. He lands on his feet, growing so he’s human-sized, and puts an elbow on Kyungsoo’s head. “Perfect height for me.”
“Sorry,” Joonmyun says, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re only doing that because you’re friends with me. Everyone thinks I’ve got something to do with it.”
“What are you sorry for?” Zitao says, rolling his eyes. “We all know it’s not you committing all the crimes. Heck, I can hear Jongin snoring from my room every night. And plus, all our rooms are now locked with a Grade One protection spell, nobody allowed in or out after curfew.”
Chanyeol sighs, throwing a pebble at the elm tree, sending a pelt of snow crashing down on Joonmyun’s head. “But then, who could it be? The headmaster and professors have been investigating this for ages, and they’ve turned up nothing. Nada. If you ask me, the protection spell isn’t useful at all if the perpetrator is someone super powerful outside Scholomance. Someone who can break a Grade One spell. A graduated Mage, perhaps. A stray Yin creature. It’s not unheard of.”
“There’s a dual invisibility and protection barrier around the school,” Yixing pipes in. “It’s the strongest in the magic world. Even graduate Mages can’t find it or break in, and the headmaster and professors are alerted once anything comes in contact with the barrier. Just in case you’ve forgotten everything from barrier casting classes, Chanyeol.”
“Right,” Chanyeol says, deflating, as Baekhyun lands on Yixing’s head and starts pulling at his hair. “Well, then. This just got fucking terrifying. It’s like a locked room murder.”
“More like we’re sheep in a pen and there’s a crazy psycho chasing after us with a sharpened butcher knife,” Jongdae says dryly. “Baaaaa!” Jongdae makes a stabbing motion at Baekhyun, who clutches at his throat and falls to Chanyeol’s lap, mock dead. “Lamb roast for dinner?”
“This is a very unconducive discussion,” Minseok says, clapping his hands together, tight smile on his face. “Why don’t we move on to a less morbid topic? And, considering curfew is in ten minutes, relocate ourselves to the common room?”
“I’ve got hallway duty until lights off,” Joonmyun says, hopping off the bench. Jongin follows, stumbling after Joonmyun, and Sehun giggles a little, exchanging looks with Zitao. “Take care, all of you. I’ll see you all at the dining hall bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, Prefect, you too,” Baekhyun says, saluting Joonmyun, and Joonmyun just rolls his eyes before taking Jongin’s hand and dragging him towards the main building. “And Jongin! Make sure you capture any suspicious looking people with your venus flytrap!”
“Is that meant to be an innuendo?” Chanyeol asks, voice fading into the distance, and Joonmyun laughs.
“Hyung.”
Joonmyun groans, stirring from his sleep. It can’t possibly be morning already. It feels like he’s only just gone to bed after Prefect duties, only just snuggled in bed, pulled the blankets over himself, said goodnight to Jongin. There’s a strange weight on his chest, like there’s a body on top of his...
Joonmyun cracks an eye open. Oh. It’s still dark, and Jongin’s face is mere inches from his. God, Jongin’s lips are so beautiful, pink and pouty. Joonmyun could lean up, tilt his head just a couple of angles, and their lips would brush, ever so gently-
A light whack to his chest jerks Joonmyun out of his reverie, and he looks up at Jongin’s face once more, this time registering the panic written on it.
“Jongin,” Joonmyun croaks out. “Jongin, what is it?”
“Hyung,” Jongin whispers, shaking Joonmyun, “You gotta get out of bed. There’s a strange noise coming from the common room. I’m scared.”
“It’s okay,” Joonmyun says, sitting up and padding to the door. He puts his ear to it. Sure enough, there’s an ethereal howling coming from the other side, and Joonmyun recoils in panic.
“Hyung, I…” Jongin bites his lower lip. “I don’t want to be trapped in here. Take me out, hyung, can you-break the spell on the door at least, so we can escape if something happens?”
Now that Joonmyun’s more awake, he’s acutely more aware that there’s something odd. Not about the noise outside, but… Jongin. Joonmyun narrows his eyes, making his way back to his bed to grab his staff. The Jongin he knows wouldn’t ask Joonmyun to bust them out. Wouldn’t ask Joonmyun to do anything reckless or stupid for the sake of his own safety. The Jongin he knows would say something dumb and cheesy like ‘I’ll stay with you, hyung, we’ll face it together’ or something similarly self-sacrificing.
And sure enough, this Jongin isn’t wearing his pendant. He always has it around his neck. It’s his most treasured item.
“You’re not…” Joonmyun raises his staff, pointing it at Jongin’s face. “You’re not my Familiar.”
“What do you mean, hyung?” Jongin says, palms out. “I’m Jongin. It’s me. You’re just confused.”
“No.” Joonmyun powers up his staff. “I know. I can tell. Our bond is strong. What have you done with Jongin?”
There’s a loud roar, a gust of wind, a burst of flames, sending all the contents of Joonmyun’s room flying in the air, alight. Joonmyun has to shade his face to stop himself from getting cut by the paper edges of his books, from getting burnt by the inferno, and he stumbles backwards, edging towards the door.
“I was going to let you do this the easy way,” a voice says, and a shadowy figure steps out of the flames, walking towards Joonmyun. Joonmyun gulps. Those robes. That circlet atop his head. This is...
“Headmaster?” Joonmyun wheezes out, eyes going wide. There’s something akin to a fire tornado in his room, and he can barely breathe from the smoke. “It was you?”
“I have Jongin,” the headmaster says, without missing a beat, “And if you don’t want him dead, you’ll come with me.”
The room the headmaster leads Joonmyun to is barren, cold, grey, hidden behind the walls of the castle, secret and unfindable. Joonmyun lets out a cry when he sees Jongin hanging up on the wall, wrists shackled to the board above him, ankles bound down. Jongin’s barely conscious. His head is hanging, and Joonmyun can feel the symbol on his wrist burning, burning a deep red.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Headmaster Wu says, flicking his wand and sending Joonmyun to the opposite wall, metal shackles clamping him down too. “You’re going to confess to all the murders.”
“What?” Joonmyun splutters. The headmaster frowns, sending a jet of air magic to Jongin’s chest, and Jongin howls in pain, golden teardrops trickling down his face. Joonmyun sobs, wishing he could reach out, do something, save his Familiar, but he’s immobilised, useless.
Useless.
“I’ve already recharged all the energy I need,” the headmaster explains, inspecting his wand. Twenty Mages’ worth of Yang energy, absorbed inside me. Should be enough to last me another five years.”
“Five…” Chills run down Joonmyun’s spine. “Did you say five years?”
The headmaster gives him a cold smile. “Seems like you understand. Your brother was the perfect scapegoat. And now, you will be too.”
“Hyung,” Jongin croaks out, lifting his head. His face is tear-streaked, golden and glittering, and Joonmyun feels his heart twist in his chest. “Hyung, don’t do it, don’t-I’ll be alright, don’t-”
The headmaster points to Jongin, an air spear driving into Jongin’s chest, and Jongin howls, squirms, screaming out in pain. “So?” the headmaster asks, driving the spell in deeper, holding it there, waiting for Joonmyun’s answer-and what can Joonmyun do? His Familiar’s in pain. Jongin’s in pain, so much pain, he’s being tortured by this monster, and the only thing Joonmyun can do to stop it is to give an answer he doesn’t want to give.
“I’ll do it,” Joonmyun sobs out. He can barely see, the heat on his wrist stinging, but nothing compared to what Jongin must be going through. “Just-stop what you’re doing to Jongin, please.”
“Very good.” The spell is released, and Jongin slumps over, wrists straining against the shackles. “Unfortunately, I’m still going to have to hold Jongin here until you fulfill your end of the de-”
“Hold it!”
Joonmyun turns his head to face the intrusion-and he’s never been more glad in his life.
It’s the whole crew. Chanyeol, Minseok, Zitao, Kyungsoo, with their Familiars, and-well, Joonmyun can only guess that’s Professor Lu at the front, today in the form of a middle-aged woman. The headmaster spins around, sending a series of fireballs from his wand, which the professor blocks with a deft water shield.
“I knew that tracker I stuck on Jongin’s ass would come in handy,” Baekhyun gloats, before putting on a serious face and baring his tiny Faerie teeth at the headmaster. “How dare you hurt our Jonginnie.”
The next series of events happens in a blur. Joonmyun’s sweating so hard, almost delirious, that he can’t quite register what happens. There’s fire everywhere, grating against his Water abilities. There’s a flash, a boom, and Joonmyun’s shackles are free, he’s collapsing on the ground, and so is Jongin on the other side, and there’s screaming and yelling and incantations shouted and fire pellets bursting up in the air, wooden shields raised, water dragons spiralling in the room, a clash of five elements, a clash of Yin and Yang. Joonmyun finally reaches Jongin, finally, cradles Jongin in his arms, wipes away his tears, and Jongin clasps Joonmyun’s hand tightly, mouthing three words, ‘I love-’
But the headmaster lets out a final roar as the professor captures him in an elemental cage, and Joonmyun whips his head to see a blinding flash of light and a series of air scythes heading right towards him, towards his head.
“No!”
Jongin moves faster than Joonmyun can react. Jongin, still holding on to Joonmyun’s hand, dives in front of him, and an unbearable slice of searing pain wracks Joonmyun’s wrist before Jongin’s struggling to his feet, an explosion of muddied vines shooting out of his fingertips. The air scythes cut through the vines, chopping them in half, and Joonmyun can only watch as Jongin’s hit, once, twice, three times, before collapsing to the ground.
And then, silence.
Jongin’s lying there, in the middle of the broken vine shield. Joonmyun’s legs are shaking. He can’t stand up. He crawls, dragging himself over the debris and leaves so he can be next to Jongin.
“Jongin?”
Fuck. Fuck. Jongin’s not moving. His body is still, so very still, the symbol on his wrist quickly fading. He’s not breathing. God. Jongin’s not breathing. Joonmyun cradles Jongin’s head, patting Jongin’s cheek. There’s a golden crystalline substance oozing out from Jongin’s skin, beginning to coat Jongin’s body, as if encasing him in a shell, cocooning him. “Jongin? Jongin, wake up, Jongin?”
“Crystallisation,” Baekhyun whispers, blanching. “I’ve only seen this once before. It’s what happens to Faeries when they’re close to death, to preserve the last of their energy.”
“He used too much power,” Jongdae says sadly, floating down and landing next to Jongin. “He must’ve really wanted to protect you.”
But Joonmyun’s not listening. He can’t hear them. It feels like his soul has left his body, that he’s just a shell. Jongin, Jongin had thrown himself in front of Joonmyun, even though he’d been tortured half to death, to protect him.
“No,” Joonmyun says, choking up. The crystal’s getting thicker now, golden, just like Jongin, setting into a hard casing, and Joonmyun’s tears leave silver splatters on the surface. “No, no, Jongin, you can’t leave me, this is-this isn’t it, you said you’d be next to me forever, didn’t you? You promised. I love you. Jongin, I love you, come back, don’t-don’t do this to me.”
“He needs Faerie Elixir,” Chanyeol says. “Minseok-hyung, you’re the fastest out of all of us here. Take them both to the infirmary. It’s a race against time now.”
“Infirmary,” Yixing says, pulling Joonmyun away from Jongin’s body. Minseok conjures up an ice sled around Jongin’s body, creating a seat behind for Joonmyun. “Hyung, we have to get him to the infirmary, now.”
“And I’ll help professor with escorting the headmaster to the Mage Trial Court,” Kyungsoo says. “It’ll be alright, Joonmyun-hyung. Hang in there.”
Professor Lu, by unanimous staff and student body vote, is appointed the new headmaster of Scholomance.
For what it’s worth, no one has ever seen the new headmaster’s true form until the day of his inauguration, and it’s a shock to every student in Scholomance. Where the old headmaster had been broad and coldly handsome, Professor Lu is-
“Motherfuck,” Chanyeol spits out, choking on air. Baekhyun thumps his back, and Kyungsoo gives him a glare that says ‘shut the fuck up Park Chanyeol, or I will murder your non-existent kittens’. “Licker of all assholes, our new headmaster is a fucking pretty boy.”
“Our new headmaster is a fucking babe,” Minseok corrects. “Look at those eyelashes.”
“Look at that body.”
“Look at that ass.”
“What ass.”
This is all recounted to Joonmyun post-inaugural breakfast, however; he’s been in the infirmary sunup and sundown. Minseok hands him a small takeout box filled with rice and kimchi. “You need to keep your strength up if you’re going to be holding seventy-two hours vigils at his bedside,” he chastises, Yixing clinging onto his arm for dear life when he’s jostled from Minseok’s shoulder. “How’s he doing?”
“Getting better. It’s slow, but I’m not going anywhere until he opens his eyes.”
The nurses aren’t super impressed with Joonmyun’s omnipresent worry hanging around the infirmary-say it’s not conducive for the patients’ speedy recoveries-but Joonmyun can’t bear to tear himself away from Jongin’s bedside.
Laughably, Joonmyun isn’t awake to see Jongin open his eyes. It’s later in the afternoon, when Joonmyun is dozing with his head pillowed in his hands-he hasn’t been getting much proper shut-eye-that he feels a soft, feathery touch to his temple. A skittering of fingertips. Joonmyun lifts his head, staring in wonder.
“Jongin?”
Jongin is awake, blinking slow and tired, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He lets his hand fall back onto the bed when Joonmyun rises from his seat, relief breaking out over his features. Jongin sighs contentedly, leaning weakly into Joonmyun’s touch when he cups Jongin’s cheek in his palm.
“Hey, hyung,” he says, voice hoarse with disuse. “Worry doesn’t suit you.”
“Oh, thank God,” Joonmyun says, leaning down to press his forehead to Jongin’s, emotion welling up under his closed eyelids. “Thank God, Jongin, you have no idea how-how-when I saw that you were hurt that bad, when you started crystallising, I didn’t think I’d see you open your eyes again."
Jongin's hand on the nape of Joonmyun's neck is warm. In one moment, he's still hovering over Jongin's mouth, and in the next their lips are meeting, soft and natural like the universe has been holding its breath waiting for this to happen.
Jongin, even after being unconscious for days, tastes like dahlias and vines and passifloras. He is, after all, an Earth Familiar; and Joonmyun is only rudely reminded of this when there are shouts of shock from the doorway of Jongin's room. He pulls away only to see the remnants of a tiny mud tornado fading away, and now there is a mess of grime and sludge all over the infirmary floor.
“Um,” Baekhyun says indignantly from Chanyeol's shoulder. He flicks dirt from his wings, wiping more from Chanyeol's cheeks. “What the hell was that?”
“Aw. Their energies intertwined. That’s kinda cute, I guess,” Sehun says, while Baekhyun makes retching sounds next to him.
“Gross,” Zitao corrects. “That was gross. The mud and the kissing. Especially the kissing.”
Because he's totally one to talk.
Joonmyun looks from the mud-spattered quartet gathered in the doorway, Chanyeol still holding a dripping, muddied bouquet of wildflowers, to Jongin, lips parting in understanding.
“Grade One,” he says in disbelief. “You powered up.”
So, for convenience's sake, Jongin assumes the standard pocket-sized Familiar form and spends his days getting better acquainted with Joonmyun's right shoulder. Apparently for lack of better things to do while Joonmyun goes from class to class, Jongin conjures up daisies and orchids and tiny rosebuds and weaves Joonmyun flower crowns all day. If he's feeling particularly edgy, he'll incorporate thorned brambles into his designs and enchant them so that they don't prick.
“Honestly,” Baekhyun says, squinting from Chanyeol's shoulder with arms crossed, “I like you better human sized. I thought you were a clumsy embarrassment of one but I take it back.”
“You're just jealous I'm threatening your #1 Hella Cute throne,” Jongin retorts, braiding ivy vines from his perch. “But as you insist.”
He clambers down from Joonmyun's shoulder along his arm, hopping onto the bench and squeezing his eyes shut. Within moments he grows to nearly Chanyeol's size, the ivy leaves looking tiny and delicate in his fingers.
“You are so noisy,” Joonmyun murmurs.
“Then give me a kiss to shut me up,” Jongin suggests brightly.
Joonmyun sighs, but leans in. It is his pleasure, honestly, if not for the immediate miniature cyclone of dirt that rises in the middle of the table.
“Stop!” Baekhyun screeches. “I was wrong! I command you to-”
He is abruptly cut off when he is smacked in the face with a clod of dirt, knocked cleanly off Chanyeol's shoulder.
Joonmyun breaks away, laughing. Things may not be perfect just yet. There’s still a lot of cleanup to do, memorial services to hold, a graduation exam to sit, and a Mage Trial to stand witness at-but more than anything, he's glad to be ending his time at Scholomance with golden days and loyal friends, and with a certain little Earth Familiar perched upon his shoulder like a heart on his sleeve.