An Albatross Sings part 2

[wishunew]

Title: An Albatross Sings Part Two
Pairing: None for now
Wordcount: 9k+
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, Character Death
Summery: Those few who sacrifice for the good of the many, they are the strongest the world will ever know.

This is for aishitaeru
Suprise guest Beta: deepgashes
I Forgot to mention in the first part. The pwp idea that spawned this came from stillbirthling " Dream of the Fisherman's Son"



­­The heat from the sun roused them, Jonghyun immediately going into a mild state of panic as he fought to get his covers on while trying to wake everyone else up as well. Sun exposure was deadly in the desert. He pulled on his head cover as he shoved coats at the others randomly, hurrying to get them dressed.

“S’goin on?” a sleepy Jinki muttered as Jjong manhandled him into someone’s coat as the slightly more awake Kibum struggled to do the same with Minho. “Where’s Taemin?” his slurred and half asleep question brought a quick halt to their haste-filled actions as Kibum all but dropped Minho, turning in a quick circle to look for the boy.

“Taemin!” he shouted, still turning like maybe if he moved quickly enough he’d see the boy from the corner of his eye or something. “Taemin, where are you?” There was a whine in his voice, a deep-seated fear as he turned wide-eyed towards Jonghyun, grabbing for the older boy’s collar in hysterics. “W-where did he go? Where would he go? Why did he leave?” he demanded, shaking the muscular boy, as if Jonghyun had the answers. “Why would he leave?!”

Helplessly, Jonghyun wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, hugging him tightly as Kibum began to shake, suppressed sobs wracking his frame as he tried not to cry, a waste of water. He shot a desperate look to the now wide awake Jinki and Minho, who had started walking in a circle around where they slept, trying to find the boy’s footsteps, hoping they hadn’t disappeared in the sweeping winds of the desert.

“We have to find him!” Key exclaimed suddenly, scrambling for his backpack and struggling to get on his horse. “We have to! H-he’s somewhere out there, alone, a-and he needs me.” If he realized his voice and hands were trembling, he didn’t let on, as he finally succeeded in throwing his leg over the horse.

Jinki reacted the fastest, reaching out to grab the bit, keeping the horse from riding off with a gentle, firm hand. “Kibum, we don’t know where he went. Charging off in a fit will just end up with both of you… dead.”

The word brought the younger boy up short, freezing his actions as the thought that Taemin could actually be dead ran through his mind. He shook his head and tried to get the horse to move, despite the older slave’s hold on it. “Taemin isn’t dead,” he snapped angrily, trying to spur the animal into action, but Jinki had a good hold. “Hyung, let go. I have to find him. He’s all alone. You know how he hates that. Please. What if he- what if he’s hurt?” He choked a little, face flushed with unshed tears, as he glared down at Jinki through them. “I have to find him, Jinki. He’s… he needs me.”

“I know,” the older boy said, his voice soft as he stroked the horse gently, trying to sooth away the abuse the emotional boy had unleashed upon it. “I know he does, but we just have to find out where he went. We’ll follow him as soon as we figure that out, okay?” He waited for Kibum to nod before letting go and moving to join Minho and Jonghyun, who had been conversing silently. He raised an eyebrow in a silent question, and Minho just shook his head.

“Gods know how long he’s been gone,” he said in a hushed tone. “He didn’t take any food or water with him. The wind has blown any indication of his tracks away,” he sighed and tried not to obviously look defeated, not wanting to agitate Key any more than necessary. “If we start looking for him, there’s no way we’d even know where to start, which direction to go in, never mind how far we need to travel, if he changed directions at any point, or even if you know who wont be waiting for us once we leave the protection of road.” He looked between the older slaves and closed his eyes. “Looking for him could kill us all.”

“But we cant just leave him,” Jonghyun insisted, biting his lip. He felt guilty. It was his plan to escape. He was the one to insist that Taemin could handle his own watch. Maybe if they’d kept with the four-person watch, Taemin would still be here, and Key wouldn’t look like someone’s killed his only reason for breathing. He shook his head and turned away from Jinki and Minho and their sad, resigned eyes. He couldn’t just give up like this, he thought as he went over the perimeter again, staring intently at the sands, as if they might be hiding details the tallest slave missed.

The more he concentrated, the clearer the details became. He was starting to be able to make out marks, impressions in the sand, tiny impressions that looked like footprints. There were lots of them, hundreds, scarring this way and that over the road, but there was only one set that headed deeper into the desert, hesitant steps like the owner wasn’t sure if he should be leaving or not.

“Here!” he called out, as he crouched down, scrutinizing the pattern left in the sand. It looked just like the rest of their boots. “He went this way!” His sudden flurry of activity seemed to startle Jinki and Minho who just stood there, blinking, as Jonghyun mounted up, Key flinching and tensing on his horse, ready to fly off in the indicated direction.

“What are you waiting for?” The muscular boy snapped at the frozen two. “We have to find him!”

It was like they suddenly woke up, hurrying to grab the packs and mounting their horses, Minho slinging Taemin’s back over his abandoned horse and taking the reins. “Jonghyun… how…?” he asked, as they set out, the prince keeping his eyes focused on the ground as they set a steady pace, following the footsteps as Key shifted on his mount in agitation.

“I can see them,” he insisted as he guided the group to the right, biting his lip as he stood up in the stirrups, trying not to fall onto the beautiful animal as he looked around, trying to make out the impressions at the distance. Ideally he would have liked to track them on the ground, but he didn’t want to risk touching the sand, lest Set find them and they truly lose Taemin to the desert.

Key was beyond agitated, and Jonghyun didn’t need any sort of gifted eyes to tell, the way he sighed continuously, gripped his reigns to tightly, knuckles white against the dark leather. He shifted; his weight, his eyes, everything. He couldn’t stay still, gnawing at his lips until they were chapped, cracked and bleeding.

Key ignored the glances the other boys shot him as he tried to see what Jonghyun claimed he saw. It all looked like sand, windswept sand in every direction. Even their tracks had disappeared. They were taking too long, but any attempt to rush the older boy got hurt looks and whispers of how hard he was trying to hurry. It had been too long, and Taemin hadn’t taken anything; no food, no water, nothing. He was alone somewhere in the desert, all alone, and Key just knew that the younger boy needed him.

Taemin had never been alone, not since he was brought into the house and Key had been instructed to train him. The boy had been too young for the position he’d been bought for, Key’s old job. The son had liked them pretty and young, and Taemin was to be his replacement. Key had been his everything, his care taker, his best friend, even his lover, on the secret night that Taemin had come to him in fear, not wanting his purity to be ripped away by the monster, as he’d called him.

Key had taken him; a spark of rebellion that had led him to attacking the son when he’d watched him take a knife to Taemin. Taemin was his exception. Rules didn’t matter, and now he was lost and alone, deep in the desert. If Kibum could give up his life to see Taemin on the horizon, to look into the boy’s eyes again, happy and smiling, it would be beyond a worthy death, just for the younger boy to be safe.

“This is getting us nowhere,” Minho said after a while. The sun was on its decent and they had yet to find anything but the trail Jonghyun was following. “We should turn back. There’s no use in all of us dying.”

In his defense, Minho probably didn’t truly understand the depth of Key’s devotion to the youngest slave, so it surprised him when Key launched himself at him, flying off his horse to drag Minho to the sand as well, trying to fit his hands around the taller slave’s throat as they thrashed about.

“He’s not dead! He’s not dead!” Key shouted at him repeatedly as he grabbed for Minho’s collar and slammed his head into the sand over and over. It wasn’t as satisfying as, say, stone, but it was close, until the larger boy got the upper hand and rolled them over, pinning Kibum down even as he thrashed wildly. “He’s not! He’s not dead. Jonghyun said. Jonghyun promised!” His voice cracked and he sagged into the sands as Minho panted over him.

The prince flinched under the accusations, shoulders slumping as he kept his eyes on the sands, trying to keep the footsteps from fading from his sight as Jinki sighed next to him.

“Kibum, that’s not fair,” the older man said. “How was he supposed to know Taemin would wander off?” He slid off his horse and offered a hand to the depressed ex-slave as Minho moved off of him, pulling him to his feet and making a show of dusting him off. It would be impossible to get all the sand out of their clothes. “Minho’s being tactless, but we were running out of food before this, now we’re half a day away from the road, and we’re still missing Taemin”

Key nodded, wrapping his arms around the oldest boy and trying to calm down. “W-we cant just… He needs me,” he insisted again, not ready to admit to himself that he needed Taemin just as much, even if it was apparent to the rest. “E-even if he’s… No! We can’t leave him out here,” he hiccupped, shivering through a suppressed sob.

Jinki nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes at Minho when the boy was about to object.

“We won’t,” he agreed as he helped Key back onto his horse, almost pointedly ignoring Minho as he tried to soothe the borderline hysterical boy. “We’ll get him back, Kibum,” he vowed, squeezing his hand and getting back onto his own horse. Minho shook his head and got back into his saddle as well. He rode up by Jonghyun as Jinki hung back, acting like the death grip Key had on his hand didn’t hurt.

“This is stupid,” Minho hissed as Jjong lead them further into the desert. “We’re all going to die because the kid couldn’t stay put.” Jonghyun shot him a dark look, and the taller boy sighed, rubbing his nose. “Look, its not like I don’t care about him, okay? I do, but I have a job, your highness. I have to get you home, which isn’t going to happen if we continue to pander around in the desert trying to find a dead body at the behest of some kind of twisted maternal love… thing, or whatever Key has for the boy.”

The older boy just shook his head, looking back at Jinki and Key before turning his eyes ahead once more, focusing on the increasingly smudged footprints, like Taemin had been slipping, struggling to keep his feet.

“You don’t get it,” Jonghyun said quietly, urging his mount to go a little faster,.“I’m not doing this because of Key. Taemin’s like a brother to me. I’ve been taking care of him as long as Key has.” He shot a look at the taller slave over his shoulder before focusing on the staggering prints on the sand. “And I thought I made it clear: we’re not leaving them behind just because you’re so focused on getting me back into his hands. They’re supposed to be our friends, remember? We’ve all starved and bled and cried together, so if you cant put your duties behind you and focus on finding Taemin, you can leave,” he snapped, then paused, stopping his horse to lean closer, squinting as he stared at the large disturbance in the sands, an imprint of a body, knees and hands.

“He fell here,” he said, quietly, but Key still gasped and tried to dismount again. “Key, stop. He got up, I can’t tell how long ago it was, but he was getting weak.” He bit his lip and stared out into the white sands, trying to make out the prints as far as he could. “I don’t think he changed direction again,” he muttered, and that was all the desperate slave needed before he was riding off like an arrow, straight ahead.

“Key wait!’ Jonghyun called after him, growling at himself for saying anything and heading after him, still trying to keep an eye on the tracks as they thundered across the desert. It was burning hot out, the sun high in the sky, and Taemin had been out in the burning rays without water, with their protection, for the entirety of it. Kibum’s belief that if they could find Taemin, it would be alright was strong enough for him, maybe, but the rest knew they were looking for a body and Jjong would rather Kibum not be the one to find it.

Ahead of him, Key’s horse reared dramatically, almost knocking the boy off and Jonghyun had to dig his heels into the horse’s sides just to catch up enough to grab the reigns and drag the immortal animal back down, so he almost didn’t see her at first.

“She’s just popped out of nowhere!’ Key exclaimed, pointing to the dark skinned woman dressed in what appeared to be blue linen and blazing white feathers, ashen with fear as he clung to Jonghyun’s arm. “Who does that?”

The older boy shrugged as he looked the woman over, trying not to get unnerved by her stillness, the lack of movement that came from life, like breathing and muscle twitches, and noted the small blue star the on her cheekbone.

“She’s an Acolyte,” he concluded, turning away from the slow smile the woman presented him with to look for Minho and Jinki, who had finally caught up to them. “Possessed, I would think,” he added, squeezing Key’s hand, “judging from the fact that she isn’t breathing.” As if he had just reminded her, the woman took a deep breath and laughed softly, sounding more like one of the exotic song birds their master used to keep than anything human.

“You are a clever one,” she spoke, her beguiling grin not faltering, as she stared at the four of them, eyes unblinking. “It has been a while since I’ve taken an acolyte to correspond with anyone outside of my tribe. Forgive me if I forget some of the… nuances of these human bodies.” She giggled again and turned, walking away, “I’ve taken your payment. Follow me,” she beckoned with a look over his shoulders, before waving her hand and disappearing into the blazing heat of the desert, leaving them alone again.

“Does this always happen to you?” Jinki asked, blinking at the spot where she disappeared. “I mean, did it, when you were younger? It’s happening a lot lately. Magic, I mean. It’s like, normal right?” His voice had a tone of desperation to it, like if Jjong didn’t assure him it was normal he might have to completely reevaluate everything that had happened since they ran away, looking for the possibility that he was either dreaming or insane, which wasn’t that uncommon among slaves. Jonghyun shrugged, looking a little lost and unsure himself.

“Fuck her,” Key snapped, turning to glare at the three boys beside him. “Where is Taemin? You said he went this way right?” He wasn’t about to let some creepy god-possessed lady distract him from finding the younger boy. He dug his nails into Jjong’s palm to get his attention. “Where did he go, Jonghyun?”

The older boy flinched and looked at him for a second, as if trying to process what he said, before shaking his head and looking around them, biting his lip as he fought the urge to get off the horse.

“I um…” he trailed off, their tracks covered the entire area, and he could just barely make out disturbances in the sands that looked more like drag marks than hoof prints. He raised himself up on the horse to get a better look, nudging it closer slowly. “He… fell here, again,” he said, trying not to alarm Kibum anymore than he had already. “It looks like he was carried,” he added quickly when he noticed other footprints, more than just the woman’s. “They all go off that way.” He pointed toward the horizon, the distorted sand where the acolyte had disappeared.

“Where… she went?” Key asked slowly, as if to clarify, voice full of stark fear. “People picked him up, and carried him off with the crazy woman who can’t even remember to breath?”

Weakly Jonghyun nodded and Key snarled like a starved wild dog, urging his horse forward, staunch determination on his pale face. They followed him slowly, one by one walking into the haze of the heat on the sand.

It was a startling feeling, however, to be greeted by a cool breeze only a moment later, the sands giving way suddenly to luscious grasses, revealing a lively camp surrounding an oasis. The woman from before was waiting for them as they all gaped like fish, Jinki nearly falling off his horse at the sudden change. Jonghyun and Minho tried to stay more composed as Key dismounted and charged up to the Acolyte, scowl darkening his beautiful face.

“Where is he?” the slave demanded. “Jonghyun said he saw Taemin being taken here, in this direction. Tell me where he is!” He grabbed her robes forcefully and shook her. “He needs me. He doesn’t like being by himself. I have to find him.” The wetness of his eyes and the way his voice shook betrayed Kibum’s fear.

The woman seemed unfazed by his actions, wrapping her hands around his wrists and tugging with very little effort, sending Kibum crashing to his knees with a harsh cry of pain. Minho was the first one off his horse, kneeling down next to the outspoken slave and gripping the woman’s wrists, pleading.

“Please, mistress, he’s upset. He didn’t mean to offend,” the taller one begged, ignoring the indignant hiss that Key let out. “Forgive him?” the taller boy kept his eyes low on the golden sandaled feet of the acolyte, only glancing up to briefly glare at the older man who bared his teeth at him.

“I’m s-sorry,” Kibum forced out, flinching as the grip on his wrists got tighter. “I’m worried about him, okay? Taemin needs me,” he insisted again, cursing when she just squeezed harder. “Fuck! Shit, okay, I’m sorry, gods above, I’m sorry! Let me go please. It hurts.”

She giggled and shrugged, smirking down at both of them. “I’m enjoying this. It’s not often that I have such handsome men at my feet,” she cooed with a sly grin. “Now, maybe if you can tell me my name, I’ll let you go,” she teased, and Key trembled, feeling the bones in his wrists press together.

“Isis, stop,” Jonghyun called out suddenly from his distance away. He’d been studying them, Jinki shifting nervously beside him as he struggled to take in the sudden changes in his life. The robes weren’t linen; they were made from lotus petals. He could see the individual threads woven together. Many goddesses use them as a representation of themselves in the physical world, but there was only one with enough power to hide this many people in the middle of a desert.

“Oh you’re no fun,” she snapped, letting the younger boy go and walking over to the prince. Jinki ground his teeth together and nudged his horse up, putting himself between the goddess and Jonghyun. Minho would have done it too, he rationalized, even if he couldn’t make himself meet her eyes. “It seems you have a protector, hmm?” she chuckled and reached out to gently run a hand over Jinki’s horse. “Such a lovely creature. Too bad, though. I’d have loved to get a closer look at your eyes. The stories one hears about those…” She giggled and turned away. “Please, make yourself at home. We’ll be moving out tonight.”

“What about Taemin?” Key called out, trying to get up and go to the woman again despite Minho holding him back. “He has to be here! I want to see him. Let me see him!”

She turned to look back at him, something flashing in her eyes, before sighing and motioning to the tent with the blue star on it.

“You clearly care very much for him,” she commented. “Do not be surprised by what awaits you,” she said, and then she left, disappearing in a blur of sands.

Key moved first, scrambling across the sands on his hands and knees before he managed to regain his footing, heedlessly stomping thought the lush greenery as he ran for the tent, dodging between the trees and other tents. His heart felt like it was about to leap from his chest, all his fears and hopes about Taemin’s fate burning though his head with every step closer. What would he find behind the heavy cloth? He shook his head and sped up. Taemin was fine, resting probably. He couldn’t… wouldn’t… Jonghyun had promised.

Minho cursed under his breath and hurried to follow him, catching onto the back of his coat just as the older boy caught the tent’s opening drapes and flung them wide.

It felt like the wind had been sucked out of his body, strength sapped from his limbs like water from the parched earth, and Key sagged with a soft noise, gripping the cloth door cover to keep his footing as he gazed into the tent. Taemin lay stretched out on a table, hands crossed over his still chest. Hundreds of lotus flowers rested all around him. Key briefly thought that the boy would have been pleased; lotuses were his favorite. If he didn’t focus on the unnaturalness, the allover wrong, it was like he was simply sleeping.

A whine ripped its way out of Key’s throat as he stumbled forward, crushing the delicate flowers beneath his fumbling feet as he tried to force his way over to the younger boy, reaching out trembling hands to caress Taemin’s cheek only to jerk back at the coolness of his skin, a deep pain blossoming in his chest when he didn’t nuzzle into Key’s palm like he normally would. He fell to his knees with a choked sob, gripping the table tightly as he tried to make his shocked body stand again.

“O-oh,” he gasped, “Oh no. No, my baby.” Managing to stand once more, stoking Taemin’s face and hands, threading their fingers together and squeezing gently. “Kibummie’s here now, Taemin. Don’t be scared okay?” he cooed, blinking back tears as he smoothed a hand onto the still boy’s hair. “I’ve got you, my lovely one. It’s going to b-be okay now.” He slid onto the table, knocking more flowers away as he rocked gently, holding Taemin’s hand like he would wake up if Key waited long enough. “I’m here now. I-I was a little late, I’m sorry.” His voice broke, and he sobbed, his lithe frame shaking hard as the tears he’d been fighting since he woke up cascaded down his face, soaking into Taemin’s clothes.“I’m so sorry.”

Minho stepped closer, hesitantly reaching out to grip Key’s shoulder. “W-we should go,” he said at length, swallowing around the leaden lump in his throat. It sat heavy in his stomach and made him nauseous. Taemin didn’t deserve to die; he was young, had his whole life ahead of him. Minho growled softly, as if to chase way the depression, if only for a little while. “There’s nothing we can do now. Lets go get some rest for now.”

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” Key snarled, shaking out of the grasp like a wildcat, turning wet, red, hysterical eyes onto the taller man. “I’m not leaving him!” he growled, curling up closer to Taemin’s body. “Never again. Hear that, Taeminnie? Kibum’s right here now. He’s not going to leave you alone.”

Minho sighed softly, biting his lip and wanting to reach out again, but decided against it, slowly leaving Key alone as he backed out of the tent, turning to make his way back to Jinki who was dutifully tending to the horses like it might be the only thing to save his sanity as Jonghyun gestured wildly at a strange man dressed entirely in thick leathers. Minho reached them just as the nomad pointed emphatically towards a small, sagging tent and stomped off, Jjong kicking sand after him.

“That tent isn’t going to fit five people,” Jonghyun muttered, glaring at it as way of greeting Minho. “We’ll be lucky to squeeze three of us.” He rolled his eyes with a sigh and went to help the older slave. He assumed Minho would follow, untacking one of the horses reigns and saddle, reaching for a brush to wipe him down.

“So. How’s Taemin?” he asked, biting his lip a little, trying not to betray the worry he was feeling for the kid. Isis’s warning had left a weird gnawing feeling in his gut, and he didn’t like it.

Minho didn’t say anything for a while, watching the two older men move in some kind of asymmetrical dance with themselves and the animals, mesmerized by the simple acts, about how Kibum acted as if his world had ended, yet it clearly still went on. Rationally he knew he was in shock, even if he hadn’t shown it, Taemin had meant a lot to him; a younger brother almost, despite their differences. He’d been someone Minho had tried to help, at first because Jonghyun had liked him, but the kid had had a personality that grew on you.

“T-Taemin’s gone,” he managed to make himself spit out, blinking back tears. “He’s a…. He’s gone.” He wasn’t articulating it correctly, but it was all he could say, kicking his feet over the vegetation underneath and struggling to stay upright, to deliver the news with the dignity it deserved.

“What do you mean, ‘he’s gone’?” Jonghyun questioned, pausing in his work to look over at the taller man, frowning. “Isis just told us he was in that tent, I didn’t read her as a liar.” He shot a look at where she had disappeared, as if he could scrutinize her still, then over to the tent that held Taemin. “Where could he have gone this time?” he mused and looked back at the horses, all untacked and settled, happily grazing on the grass the Oasis offered. “Does this mean we did all of this for nothing?”

“No I didn’t mean that,” Minho muttered, running a hand though his close-cropped hair and clearing his throat. “I meant…. I meant he’s dead, Jonghyun. Taemin is dead.” He looked up at the prince, who just blinked at him, mouth slightly open, then over to Jinki, who had been smiling good-naturedly at Jonghyun’s complaining, the smile frail and brittle now, frozen on his face. “F-from what I can gather, the last place he fell must have been… it. They carried him in from there, and…” He sighed again and looked back over his shoulder, the harmless looking tent suddenly so imposing. “Kibum has lost it, keeps talking to him, like Taemin’s asleep, and not…”

“Gods above,” Jonghyun whispered, body going a little weak as he struggled to take in the shock, his grip on the horse the only thing keeping him upright as he moved forward, reaching out like he needed something, something to hold. He entertained the thought that Minho was lying to some end, but it wasn’t like Taemin being… would get the caravan moving any faster, and with how low their food and water supply was, they needed these nomads.

“B-but he cant be dead,” Jonghyun whispered, and suddenly Jinki was there, around him, holding him tight and easing him to the ground. The young prince gripped the back of the older man’s coat and stared up at him, a little lost with the weight of the truth. “I-I promised…”

“I know, Jjong,” Jinki said, running a hand though his hair. “I know. Let’s sit down for a bit, okay? You’re shaking like a leaf.” The younger boy seemed to listen, his grip still painfully tight on Jinki but he stopped struggling, sitting down in the grass a safe distance away from their mounts, his eyes were wide, staring into the ground, and he looked a little like one of the masters young hounds, lost without its mother.

“It’s not your fault,” Jinki insisted, pressing his forehead into the side of the brunette’s head. “It’s no one’s fault.” The eldest wasn’t sure whom he was trying to convince; the younger boys, both shocked by the reality of their runaway life, the sudden abruptness of their fairytale runaway laid bare before their eyes, or himself, as he fought to remain in control of his emotions. He’d cry later he decided, alone, when no one needed him to be his rock.

Jonghyun’s tears hit his hand, and the muscular man held him tighter. Jinki could feel the bruises forming already, but he didn’t make a sounds.

Later, it was he who had decided to venture into the tent. Jonghyun wouldn’t go near it, whether it was from shame or guilt, the oldest couldn’t tell at the moment, lacked the strength to discern between the two. Inside, Key had managed to get Taemin’s head on his lap, and he sat with tear stained face, running his hand gently through the boy’s auburn hair, singing softly to the youngest boy. It truly did look like he was asleep, the image a twisted echo of the nights Taemin would limp into their room, exhausted and vulnerable, would climb into bed with Kibum to hide from the world.

But Jinki couldn’t let this continue. It was unhealthy, and as much as he hated to do it, separating Key from the youngest’s corpse would be the best course of action. “Kibum, this has to stop,” he insisted as gently as he could, laying a hand on the younger slave’s arm. “Come away, wash up. You’ve been here for hours. Get some rest before we have to move again.”

“No,” Kibum hissed, jerking his arm away and whimpering slightly when his harsh movement jarred Taemin’s body, and he rapidly readjusted, getting back into his previous position. “No, I can’t, hyung. He needs me. He’ll be scared if he’s by himself. You remember, he used to… w-wait up for one of us to get back, so he wouldn’t be alone.” He choked a little as fresh tears fell onto Taemin’s still face, following the smooth, still contours of his skin. It was almost like the boy was crying, too.

“Come with me,” Jinki tried again, holding his hand out instead of reaching for him. “He’s not alone, now is he? We’ll be right outside. If he wakes up and he needs us, he can call. We’ll be right outside,” Jinki offered, forcing the words out though they pained him. It was a sick game to play along with Key’s delusions, but the boy was exhausted, pushed past the point of a mental break, and he needed to get away from Taemin’s corpse. “You know how he hates being crowed, babied,” he insisted, smiling gently when Key finally looked up at him.

“You… we won’t be far, right?” he asked, sounding like a lost child. “Just outside, just for a bit?” He bit his lip and looked back at Taemin. “He’s been sleeping for so long… He’ll need me I-… when he wakes up. I should…” he trailed off and Jinki could see him trying to think of a reason not to leave.

“He’ll be hungry when he finally wakes up,” Jinki offered, grinding his teeth together. “Probably thirsty, and I bet you are too. Come with me, Key. Taemin wouldn’t want you starving yourself.” He inhaled shakily, fighting away the urge to cry. He had to be strong right now. “He’s only sleeping, remember? He’ll get you if he needs you.”

The younger boy bit his lip and nodded slowly, getting up and gently laying Taemin back down onto the table, gently stroking some hair from his face before latching onto Jinki’s outstretched hand and pressing close to him as they left the tent.

Minho had been hovering around the opening, trying to work up the nerve to go back inside, to see Taemin again, to pay his respects to the boy. Hopefully Key would let him close enough to do so. He’d been surprised when Jinki had walked Key out of it, the fastidious slave having holed himself up hours ago. The sun was dipping low in the sky now, and soon they would be leaving, or so the nomads kept saying. They walked at night, when it was cooler, and slept during the day, if they could help it. Isis protected them, her power strong enough to hide the large band from Set entirely, even as they traveled across his sands.

“Ah,” he started, stumbling away from the entrance when Jinki emerged. “Um…” he looked between them, Jinki’s drawn, tired face, to Key’s, pale and wet from tears. “C-can I see him?” he asked hesitantly, hoping that maybe now, since Key wasn’t in there, it would be a good time, but the older boy shook his head, and clutched Jinki’s hand tighter.

“He’s sleeping now, Minho,” Key scolded weakly, trying to keep the catty ire his voice normally held, even as he put it kindly. “You always wake him up when you move about. L-let him sleep for now.”

The taller boy blinked at him, thoroughly lost, and turned to Jinki, who was watching him closely, the way he did when he’d been trying to convey something while their master had been present. Minho cleared his throat and just nodded, the tension in the air dissipating barely as Key relaxed and tugged on Jinki’s hand.

“We should eat, hyung,” he said, blinking at the large caravan of tents and camels, the dark skinned sand people slowly starting to awake into their day, like it was the first time he’d seen it. He probably didn’t see anything when he was running for Taemin and hadn’t left the tent since, so it was quite likely this was the first time he’d seen it all.

“Do you think they’ll share their food?” he asked cautiously, sniffing the air, somewhere something was cooking.

“They’ve been very nice,” Minho offered, biting his lip and nodding to the group who sat around a slow fire. Jonghyun was, again, deep in conversation with them.

Jinki’s frown deepened when he noticed the serious expression on the young prince’s face, and he shot a questioning glance at Minho, who shrugged helplessly. Jjong drew quiet whenever he approached him since he found out the news of Taemin. “They’re cooking wild dog for their first meal. They say it’s tough, but it’s not salted meat, for once, right?”

They all shared a smile and made their way over to the fire at which Jonghyun sat. Predictably, the prince fell silent and the conversation he’d been having with the nomads fell off. They all shifted anxiously, then tension from Jonghyun’s secret conversations to Kibum’s obviously frayed mental state becoming too much for them, and they politely excused themselves to other fires. Jonghyun just nodded, slurping at a thin porridge like suspense that had been passed around already.

“It’s rich in nutrients,” he insisted, handing his bowl to Jinki. “It’s not bad once you get past the taste,” he added, trying not to laugh as the oldest man struggled not to spit it out. “Their healer said that, being in the desert for so long, even if it was only two days, coupled with our ‘prolonged internment’ we should ‘replenish’,” Jjong shrugged off the unfamiliar word, watching as both Key and Minho struggled to drink the bitter liquid down. “I think he likes to use big words to make me feel stupid.”

“What are you talking to the nomads about?” Minho cut in quickly, narrowing his eyes as the older man flinched and looked down at his hands. “Every time I get near you, you go quiet. What is it? Why can’t I know?” he pressed, moving closer to try and catch the prince’s eye, but Jonghyun just looked away, down into the fire.

“I won’t have you poking into my affairs, Minho,” he spoke, voice solid and sound like a true ruler, “but if you must know, I’m building alliances. When I regain my title as prince, I should be prepared to compensate those who helped me get back, should I not?” He hummed and was saved from further interrogation by the arrival of the food. Five plates, at Key’s insistence, of hot food were passed to them, which they ate with surprising speed. It was the first hot meal they’d had in quite some time, longer than any recent memory the four possessed. They were forbidden seconds, however, the healer stating it would be bad for their physical health, but they felt full and that was all that mattered.

It wasn’t long after they’d finished that Key fell asleep. It was slightly alarming, because he’d been so insistent about going back to Taemin’s tent, but then he just snuggled into Jinki’s shoulder and slowly dozed off. The healer, a big man with a hooked nose and a pretentious air had been hovering nearby since he’d refused them a second course and came over to sit with them. Key sagged even further, signaling two equally large nomadic men to collect him, and they lay him down gently on a wagon that had been hitched to two of the nomad’s camels.

“I’ve drugged him,” the man explained, much to the immediate shock of the remaining three men. “Oh, calm yourselves. There is no need for such a ruckus.” He waved his hand at them, as if to dismiss the shock from their faces. “He’s clearly not taking the death of your tribute very well, and I thought it would be best for him to be asleep while we move to our next destination so he would be spared the sight of us moving the young lad’s body.” He offered a smile that was eerily similar to the female acolyte’s, unsettlingly charming, as he stood, stretching. “You may go and check on him if you want. We haven’t killed him.”

Jinki stood immediately, eyeing the doctor warily and moving to check on Key, grabbing both Jonghyun and Minho as he passed, tugging them with him. They all crowded around as the oldest slave checked to make sure Kibum was just sleeping. Jinki let out a sigh as he felt the younger boy’s breath, and he leaned up, sitting back to look at the other two boys, frowning darkly.

“I hate these people,” he muttered, glancing around them. “What did he mean by ‘tribute’, and who said it was okay to drug any of us?”

“That was Isis,” Jonghyun offered, wincing when Jinki groaned and let his head slam back into the wood of the wagon. “From what I gathered with talking to the other nomads, they’re all her acolytes. In order for outsiders to travel with them, they have to pay a price. You said so yourself, remember?” He shrugged and kicked at the greenery underfoot. “Taemin was apparently our price, our tribute to Isis, to get us across the desert safely.” He sighed and looked over at Kibum, relaxed for the first time since they woke that day. “She regrets how Key is taking it though, so I guess that’s something,” he shrugged.

“It’s a good thing you’re a people person,” Jinki muttered, looking over at Jonghyun shyly and biting his lip. “We’d be in the dark about so many things without you here.” He cleared his throat and hummed thoughtfully. “Ah… maybe we should go check on the horses? Get Key’s and Taemin’s hooked up to the cart since they aren’t going to… be ridden.” His voice fell off at the end, dark depression settling over all of them. Taemin wasn’t sleeping like Key was.

The difference between life and death was never so plain to the eye as it was when they carried Taemin’s body from the tent and laid him gently next to the sleeping Kibum. This pale stillness unnatural to the warm glow Key seemed to give off by comparison; the unconscious shifts of muscles, the twitch of the eyes. The youngest made no move, deeply held by Death’s grasp. It was a painful sight to behold, especially for the three boys who rode behind the wagon, in case Key woke up before they were settled once more.

The caravan had headed out as soon as the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon, and at first, Jonghyun had ridden with them, all silent like a funeral procession, until one moment he wasn’t, and the nomad and their camels had moved in, boxing Minho and Jinki from departing from their place in the caravan as well.

Jinki sighed and picked at the saddle horn. “He’s up to something,” he muttered to no one in particular. “Off talking to so many people, not telling us what he’s doing.” The older man sighed at how hurt he sounded, even with everything that had happened. “Was he this secretive before? I don’t remember. Well besides the whole name thing.” He shrugged and looked around, flinching when he caught Minho glaring at him. “What?”

The younger boy rolled his eyes and watched as Kibum rolled over in his sleep. “Worry about Kibum. Prince Jonghyun is under my protection, remember?” He felt like bringing it up once again was harsh, but Jinki had to get it through his head. “We’ve all seen how you look at him. He’s not for you, Jinki. The sooner you accept that, the happier everyone will be,” he insisted bluntly.

The older man tensed under the words, inhaling sharply to try and calm the fury he was feeling. It overwhelmed the shame and embarrassment he felt from being discovered. Was now really the appropriate time?

“What do you want from me?’ he demanded at length. “I’ve known for a while that Jason, or Jonghyun, whatever he wants to be called, was beyond me. Being a slave and being in love is the quickest way to death by a broken heart.” He sighed and glared at Minho, the tears he’s been fighting pushing against his eyes. “But why? Why can’t I just have this? These moment where I can pretend that we could have a future together?”

“They’re dangerous,” Minho insisted, not unkindly. “Poseidon might not see them as harmless moments, and take a swifter, more final action against you to keep his consort his alone.” He paused to let it sink in, glancing hesitantly at Taemin’s still body before looking back. “We’ve had enough death. It would destroy Jonghyun for you to die for something so foolish.”

Jinki scoffed, shaking his head. “Love is not foolish,” he snapped, then sighed and chewed on his lip, a nervous habit that left them bleeding. Back with their master, Jonghyun had been trying to get him to stop.

“Minho, Poseidon works like Isis, right? He needs acolytes to do things on land and such?” The younger boy nodded, puffing his chest out and sitting a little taller, proud of his status. “So then, do you think you’ll be the Acolyte he chooses to bed Jonghyun?” Jinki hissed out, a flash of pain and depression spearing through his heart as he all but felt the beautiful, muscular younger man slide though its cracks.

Minho choked a little, blushing. “Um… I would be honored,” he muttered, looking anywhere but Jinki, “and, um… being that Jonghyun is comfortable with me, there is a high probability that yes, he would choose my body as his vessel to know Jonghyun.”

“So are you warning me away as a well-wishing friend, or a rival, then?” Jinki pressed, angry now, the urge to fight for Jonghyun suddenly so strong. “You’ve thought about it, haven’t you? What it would be like to take him like your god wants. You lust after him,” Jinki accused, his voice deep with barely contained emotions. It scared Minho how clearly on edge the older man was. The day had frayed on all their nerves, but Jinki seemed so close to losing control. “When we finally reach your home kingdom, what’s to stop you from playing that you’ve been possessed and going to him? What’s to stop anyone?” Jinki’s sudden fury at Minho, at the thought of the younger man wavered slightly in panic. There were more acolytes than just Minho who could all claim the same thing.

“That is a disgusting accusation!” Minho snapped, snarling at Jinki. “I could never disrespect my position for such patent and shameless debauchery. Jonghyun belongs to Poseidon,” he insisted once more. “Besides, Jonghyun would know the difference. It’s his eyes, remember? You can’t lie to him.”

The older man shook his head and nudged his horse further away from the younger man, and the rest of their trip was spent in tense silence, trying to find a way to get further away from each other, or trying to spot where exactly Jonghyun had disappeared to.

It was nearing dawn on the second night of travel when Jonghyun nudged his way back between their horses. He looked tired, face drawn in grim lines, and his eyes were wet, like he’d been crying. The young prince wore his emotions on his sleeve so it was possible the fact that Taemin was no longer with them had brought the tears to the surface once more. But both men could see the grim determination in his eyes, as they locked onto the wagon before them, flickering between the youngest slave’s still lifeless corpse and Kibum’s restless body, still asleep thankfully.

“Key always insisted that it was Taemin who needed him,” he said suddenly, voice low and trembling slightly. He cleared it and threw brilliantly fake smiles at the other two men. “You remember? Always grumbling about Tae being clingy, teasing him about climbing into his bed at night, about not eating all his food.” He laughed humorlessly, sharp and slightly bitter, stopping when he realized how fake it was. “It’s just such a switch to find out that Key crumbles without Taemin. He’s been saying that he needs Taemin, not the other way around. Its clear now right? He refuses to believe the kid is… gone. Its… amazing, really,” he muttered, licking his lips slowly, “how much they need each other. If Key was the one that was… Taemin would probably act in a similar way, right?” he asked, waiting for Minho and Jinki to nod. “They need each other. That’s the truth. They’re two parts of a whole, broken without the other.”

“Jonghyun?” Jinki asked quietly, consumed by the boy’s sudden rambling, and slightly alarmed. He sounded so morose and fatalistic, nothing like the optimistic boy they used to know. “Are you alright?” He reached for Jjong’s hand, squeezing it encouragingly, but the younger boy just shook off his grip with another fake smile and nodded.

“Don’t worry about me Jinki,” he said, a funny lilt in his tone. “We’ll be taking a break in a bit. Isis thinks the horses need it and there’s been a pack of dogs following us. Some of these nomads are going to hunt them, and we can stop for another warm meal,” he hummed. “So keep an eye out for anything that they can burn.”

True to his words, the caravan came to a halt, circling around itself to form a protective formation. Jonghyun had started to tremble as the nomads dismounted, hands tensing on the reigns. Then he shook his head and glanced over at Minho, staring at him for a long moment, before turning to look at Jinki. “Smile,” he insisted, and the older man offered him a hesitant half smile, which Jjong returned eagerly, and then left once more.

“I’m going to speak with Isis. Save me some food if I miss it, okay?”

“Jonghyun wait!” Minho called, but the prince didn’t seem to hear, trotting across the circle to the other side. Minho blinked after him, then turned to Jinki. “Something’s very, very wrong with him,” he muttered, not needing the older man to nod in agreement before he started to edge his way out to follow. A sudden noise from the cart they’d been following stopped him as he turned to see Kibum slowly waking up, a groan coming from his bow shaped mouth, sitting up slowly to stretch and lick his lips.

The sleepy boy smiled at them, rubbing his eyes as he reached over to lightly shake Taemin’s shoulder. “Time to wake up, Taemin. We stopped moving,” he muttered, blinking around as he tried to figure out how they got a cart and why they weren’t on their horses. “Where are we?” he asked, shaking Taemin again, a little harder. “I said up, lazy bum. God I had the worst nightmare”

Jinki and Minho traded glances, a deep unease settling in their gut as they took in Key’s behavior. Finally, Jinki got down off his horse and walked to the younger man, gently gathering him in his arms and hugging him tightly. “Kibum, honey, Taemin… isn’t sleeping,” he muttered weakly, unsure how to approach this again. “He’s um… He’s gone, Key.”

Minho hissed quietly behind him, walking up to lay a sympathetic hand on Key’s shoulder.

“He d-died” Jinki continued. “He ran off, into the desert. We… didn’t find him, in time. I’m sorry.” The older man’s voice had gotten thicker with each word he spoke, the reality hitting him all over again.

Key scoffed, squirming out of the hold and pushing the other men away. “Don’t be silly,” he insisted fiercely. “That was just a dream. He’s right here. I just have to wake him up.” He turned back to Taemin and shook him harder, the boy’s body moving like a rag doll. Kibum gasped and stumbled away from the body, falling to the sands, his face draining of color as he once again faced the truth of what had happened. “No!” he shouted, the sound echoing around the desert. “He… he can’t! He can’t be dead. No, Taemin, oh no.”

Jinki winced and knelt before him, trying to gather the distraught boy in his arms. How was he supposed to do this a second time? Would Key always be like this, sleeping away the truth to awake and find out it wasn’t a dream?

The younger fought him off, pushing him away. “Get away from me!” Key shouted. “Don’t touch me! He’s… he’s… How can he be dead?” he demanded, gasping for breath. His chest felt tight, a sharp pain spearing though his heart and lungs. “I… I can’t breathe”

Across the laager, Jonghyun had been speaking, once again with Isis, who was still wearing the form of the nomads’ doctor. “You’re sure about this,” the doctor insisted, looking dead into the young prince’s eyes. “I may be strong, but even I cannot undo my own magic.” He placed a hand on Jonghyun shoulder and squeezed. “You are brave, to offer this. You may lose both your title as prince and the attention of the sea god, should we go through with this. Be sure you-”

Key’s shouting cut through their conversation, and they both looked up, Jonghyun hissed out curse words as he watched Key fall apart, yet again. Beside him Isis released the physician, who stumbled, coming back to himself, then hurried across the center of their group. “He’ll die if he doesn’t calm down!” the man shouted, reaching into his medicine bag for what looked like a thin reed. Jonghyun followed close behind. The large tribe doctor reached Key first, wrapping a hand around his waist and shoving the reed into his neck, snapping it in half and waiting for a moment, before pulling it out slowly. Key’s breathing slowed steadily as he shook and fell to his knees.

Minho snarled as Jinki made to gather the weak boy into his arms, grabbing for the doctor, wrapping his hand around the man’s neck. “How many times will you drug him?” he demanded, squeezing tightly. “He is in mourning and you feed him one drug or another. Is that what you did to Taemin?”

“Minho that’s enough,” Jonghyun said sharply, digging his nails into the soft flesh of the taller boy’s wrist, making him let go. “He saved Key’s life, that’s all.” The doctor nodded desperately, rubbing his sore neck and stumbling back a little behind the smaller man. “They’ve done nothing but help us. Yes, Isis led Taemin to them, but that’s Isis, not these people,” he hissed. “You are more controlled than this.”

“He was hyperventilating. He’d have suffocated, if it had been allowed to continue.” Despite almost being strangled, the doctor still had his pompous attitude. Minho scowled at him, but blushed under Jonghyun’s words and stood down, glairing down at the sands, hard, wanting to talk back, but Jjong was right, he’d lost control, even if he’d thought it was justified at the time. “No need to apologize. I’m sure you just didn’t understand,” the man continued, pressing his luck.

“That is quite enough,” a soft feminine voice called, silencing the man, silencing all of them. Even Jonghyun flinched, looking down at his feet. He swallowed hard before turning to stare at his friends, unblinking as, in the middle clearing of the laager, the woman dressed in lotus cloth walked forward, though the fire. “Had I know this particular tribute would cause such grief, I would have chosen differently. I am not a heartless woman,” she said, her eyes boring into Key’s. “I know what it feels like to suffer the loss of a loved one.” She sighed and turned to look at Jonghyun who, in turn, slowly, looked back at her. “There has been an offer of a trade, however,” she said aloud, and a hushed murmur ran though the nomads. “One that I have found satisfactory. Gifts are worth so much more when they are given freely.” She beckoned for Jjong and he stepped closer, into the clearing.

“Jonghyun?” Jinki asked, voice confused as the younger man continued to walk towards Isis. He moved to stand, but a solid hand on his shoulder kept him where he was. Beside him, Minho bristled with fury,

“What have you done?” the taller man demanded, advancing after the prince only to be held back by even more nomads. He struggled more than the eldest who was frozen in place by confusion. “A trade? You can’t do this! We didn’t live though everything just for you to die here!”

That seemed to snap Jinki out of his shock. Jonghyun was going to die? He turned quickly to look at Taemin, then back to Jjong, everything he’d been refusing to connect clicking into place. “No, Jonghyun! Don’t do this, please,” he begged, struggling harder to get to his feet, to stop the muscular boy. “You can’t!”

Key, always the agile one, slid dexterously from his would be captor’s hands, reaching Jonghyun just as he fell onto his knees before the goddess. “Jjong?” he questioned hesitantly, he was unsure in everything, hesitant, hands up like he was ready to help, but they shook fiercely. “What?”

“I can fix this,” The prince insisted, his eyes closed tight and head bowed, but his words carried none of the submission his posture indicated. “Let me fix it, Kibum. I promised no one would die. I did. I can make it all right. I can bring him back. Taemin doesn’t have to die.” That brought the younger man up short, his breath catching and his eyes wide. “Just, don’t interrupt, okay? I know you don’t trust me, but just… believe me. I’ll make it okay.” A single, slow tear slid down Jonghyun’s face, and his voice shook slightly, but it still held solid conviction. “I have to.”

Key sniffed, and nodded, standing back. Isis smiled briefly at the slave, acknowledging his choice not to interfere. Her hands, which had been clasped behind her back, rose slowly above her head. One of them held a knife that looked like it was made of molten gold. It glowed such a vibrant cherry red. “I have accepted the prince’s offer of trade, a gift I shall not forsake. A beautiful gesture made in the name of love cannot be tossed aside so lightly.” She ran a hand though Jonghyun’s hair slowly, caressing his cheek as she slid her hand down under his chin, and tilted his face up. “Be brave, young prince, be strong. Your journey does not end here.”

And she brought the blade down.



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