Getting Ready For The Journey

Sunday, 8th of September 2019

Jungkook, 3:00 am

He couldn't move. He shivered at the offensive touch of mud sliding thickly down his body. Temperatures shifted from freezing to stifling and beads of sweat covered his heaving chest. Blinded, unknown hands moved and tossed him to their enjoyment. He was a pet, a freak at the zoo; the meal laying bare on the table for the master of the house to sink their teeth into. It hurt to be bitten, scratched and burned. But it was his monster who did it.

His monster always wore a mask with cunning eyes and wide smiles but always with a trickle of blood down one corner. Nevertheless, black, blue, bleeding and crying, Jungkook felt the minuscular trace of a gentle finger and held on to the gesture. Maybe, if he did what his monster wanted him to, he would be gentle again.

He lay on a hard surface as his monster hovered over him and saw white, mature hands rise to the edge of his mask. Jungkook held his raggedy breath, hoping for a kiss that would end the game. The fingers pulled up the mask, building his anticipation. Jungkook let out a breath of relief when he saw those pale lips. Then, the mouth opened, wider and wider, breaking at the corners and showering him with thick, black blood that choked him as his wide eyes saw teeth as sharp as knives revealing the black abyss of death. He screamed and the monster lunged for his face.

Jungkook sat up on his bed. Breathing laboriously, he tore the sheets away from him and stood up swiftly, running for the door. Beside it, he switched the light on and closed his eyes when the darkness around him had abruptly ended. Peering around his bedroom, he tried to calm his breathing. With shaky legs, he got on his knees and looked beneath the bed. Only after checking his bathroom and closet could he finaly sit back on his mattress. There were no monsters.

Bottom lip trembling, he tiptoed to his bedroom door. It was heavy and silent as he opened it. He waited... but no one came to check on him. That's how he knew he was not still in a dream. Locking his door once more, he pulled the neck of his shirt up and dried his tears as he went back to bed. He sat in the middle and put all his pillows back into place around him. Protected by his fort, he finally closed his eyes once more.

Hopefully the light would drive away the monsters.

Taehyung, 5:00 am

If only he could wake up from that nightmere. Sitting in the back seat of a cab on his way to the airport was exactly what he'd been avoiding while on the process of getting his doctorate. The deadline for his ascension was chosen by the same man who changed his life a decade before. His father-in-law already had contacts to send his resume even before he finished his first year as a university professor. No number of delays could've prevented the day from arriving. But he still believed they would at least let him be with his kids after separating him from his family.

His wife Daphne at least had the heart not to rush him as he was saying goodbye to his desolate children. Though cold and vain, her claws were occasionally gentle. He too cried after breakfast. It was a feat for he almost dropped to his knees at the sight of his children at the table before even five in the morning. He hugged Addy as though he could make her a part of him and never let her go. Over her little shoulder, he watched her twin brother as he hugged his teddy. If only his wife hadn't been there, he would've also been able to hug him like he did the night before.

Ten years of being the man and the father his children needed physically, mentally and emotionally were now secondary to the plans of greed. His parents-in-law were insatiable and he could break himself apart countless times but still not be enough for them.

He was nothing but an aggressor in their eyes. A boy who wanted to take advantage of their fortune as he took advantage of their daughter. They never cared to listen to his side of what happened that night. Now, he was trapped in a tailored suit on his way to his new job at one of the most prestigious universities in the world, three hours away from his children.

The University of Evanthe. He was trapped in the life of a man who wasn't him, and trapped in a traffic jam with a clear view of a flower shop outside his window.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back.

Raphael, 5:30 am

Traffic jams in London were unavoidable even on a Sunday morning. They were lucky the meeting with the Cardinal Representatives would begin at seven o'clock. But his father, locked in a fierce argument with the person in charge back at the base, clearly believed they were already late.

"That's my final order in the matter." His father hung up on the Castellan of the North and immediately continued with the same angry tone of voice as he addressed the driver. "Can't you do something about this? We cannot be late. Choose another route."

"I'm terribly sorry, Cardinal. I'll try my best to go around it."

Raphael took out his phone and used two different apps at the same time to decide which route would be faster. While he did this, he was able to catch what they were saying on the radio.

"We've been receiving reports that have caused quite a stir across London the past few days. People are saying they've seen strange appearances in both Camden and Greenwich. Witnesses are describing individuals dressed entirely in black, with rags covering half of their faces. These people aren't causing any overt disturbance — they're not buying anything or breaking any laws — but their cold, quiet demeanour is unsettling many. Their mere presence, coupled with their attire, seems to be causing a growing sense of fear among residents. Authorities haven't made any official statements yet, but we advise you to stay alert and report any unusual activity in your area. More updates as they come."

As far as he knew, there would be no official statement until they were forced to do it.

"Raphael." His father breathed out a warning.

The muscles on his back tensed up as he straightened to look out the window.

"This is the fastest way to get there."

"How long?"

"Forty minutes by car."

"How far is it?"

"From King's Cross to Westminster, there are 6 kilometres. An hour on foot." He decided to tell him that last before he asked. He could feel him close to his limit.

His father breathed out again, like a bull ready to strike. Raphael sat very still. They were both in full navy blue uniforms, ready for the meeting. It was unusual to see his father wearing his; another reason for his short temper must be the discomfort in his attire. Raphael continued searching on his phone for a solution. The last thing he wanted was for his father to start screaming at the innocent driver.

When the car moved again, he spoke up.

"Turn here on Gray's Inn Road," he leaned forward to catch the driver's attention. "We'll cut through Holborn, that way you can take the Strand straight to Trafalgar Square. It'll get us there quicker."

"Yes, sir."

The driver didn't hesitate. With a determined grip on the wheel, he began finding gaps where there seemed to be none. Horns blared in protest, but the driver was unfazed, threading through the congestion with the skill of someone who knew the streets of London all too well.

Raphael was able to breathe out a silent sigh of relief.

Jungkook, 6:00 am

Stiffly, he stretched his arm towards his nightstand but found only more bed. He had to drag himself up and towards the edge to get his alarm to stop. Then, he flopped back down against one of his many pillows. He couldn't understand why he was so tired. Then, lifting his head, he wondered why he hadn't turned the light off before going to sleep the night before.

Remembering his parents promised to be there for breakfast, he sat up at once. As he dragged himself to the left side of the bed, he frowned. His bedclothes felt moist as if he'd been sweating. He stood up and went to his bathroom. When he saw his reflection, he grimaced. There were dry tear tracks on his face. Angrily, he did his skincare routine.

A nightmare the night before going to university was the last thing he needed. Even though he couldn't remember it, the evidence was always the same. Hopefully, he hadn't screamed or his father would be in a bad mood.

Even then, a part of him wanted him to be in a bad mood.

He was promised excitement and happiness by the past reactions of his siblings on the day they went to university and he was instead showering with the same sour expression on his face he wore every day for school and Academic Qualifications. He wanted them to suffer even if just a little bit. But his body moved quickly as he dried and dressed himself, betraying his emotions.

Wearing a dark blue shirt, black jeans and boots of the same colour, he walked out of the bathroom with his bag of toiletries, the last of his possessions he would be taking to the dorms. He stood by the bathroom door watching the room he'd had for nine years -since he was twelve- and felt... nothing.

His drawing table was free from sketches, canvases, and materials. From his wide bookshelf, the only things he was allowed to take were his twenty notebooks (but he still took some books). The closet he left behind was filled with only smart attire, tailored suits, shiny shoes, and expensive watches and things. Everything that was not in that room, was already waiting for him in boxes at his dorm. Before, he believed this would be the moment a lump rose in his throat and good memories would fill his mind with sadness, but no such things happened.

Certainly, he could see his two best friends Leo and Emily laying on his bed, laughing at something dumb, eating pizza on the floor, and watching movies. But those were ever only one week of the year since he moved out of london nine years ago. For the rest of that time, he spent it alone.

This room never truly felt his. Like a hotel or a room he was allowed to live in until told otherwise. Sometimes it felt like a safe place but, most times, he simply wanted to escape. He could hadly look at it with nostalgia.

The most important, vibrant-colored moments in this room were with his friends and he was on his way to them that very morning. All three of them entered the same university. The university of Evanthe.

In a fast pace, he walked around his bed to get to his black backpack next to the door. He took his favourite black coat from on top of it, put inside the small bag he carried, and stood back up. It was disappointing how unemotional he was. But he focused on his friends waiting for him as he opened his door and turned off the light behind him.

He won't miss the third floor where his room was located, or the three study rooms his family neglected. Maybe the balcony held his gaze for a second longer than the wall of windows facing the wide backyard, but he walked down the mahogany stairs with his head down like any other day. When he got to the second floor, he ignored Junior's and Amy's rooms as well as his parents' and stared only at the fourth room. The movie room. A sense of lightness came to his shoulders at the thought of leaving the house forever.

He stepped down onto the cold, polished floor and smelled the sweet scent of cinnamon coming from the silent dinner table. The impeccably furnished living room with its bookshelves as decoration and the shiny black piano he was never allowed to touch were a relief to leave behind. All those party nights with straight backed people who drank shanpage and wore diamonds like cheap jewelery would only be obligatory a few times of the year once he moved out.

It was comforting to find reasons to uplift his mood. However, as he walked over to the dining table, his disappointment only grew. His parents were reading the news on their devices instead of waiting for him with a smile. His mood soured, but his stomach began to feel uncomfortable as he reached the table.

They sat in their usual places with his father at the head of the table and his mother to his left, giving her back to the entrance of a dining hall. He stopped between them, but not too close.

"Morning," he greeted in an undertone and held his breath.

His mother put down her tablet and looked up at him with a tight-lipped smile.

"Morning, dear." She moved her head s little sideways so he could kiss her cheek.

He blinked at the odd term of endearment and bent to his waist to leave a kiss on her perfectly smooth cheek. He was brief, not wanting to mess up her makeup. Then, he turned to his father who put down his phone after sending a message.

He extended his right hand.

"Son."

Jungkook bit down hard at the sound of the usual, dry greeting and shook hands with his father once. Without a word, he rounded the table to sit on Junior's seat to the right side of his father.

He wanted to leave.

"So, did you sleep well?" His mother asked with an excited smile right after he left his things on the floor.

"Yeah." He looked down at the place in front of him and realized they had asked the cook to make his favourite breakfast. He frowned slightly.

"Are you sure?" His father asked without looking at him, starting with a piece of red apple.

The question irritated him.

"Yes." He took his fork and began to eat as well, not looking up.

"Excited for the day?" His mother asked again. She was the only one smiling. "You'll do so many fun things like getting your key, organizing your room..."

His father chuckled.

"Oh, yeah, supper fun stuff." He continued eating. "Let's hope he's not too tired to do it."

"Sweety, he said he slept well," she reminded him.

But the tone she used made Jungkook's eyebrows furrow. It was almost mocking.

Then, his father spoke to him.

"Just so you're aware, son. There aren't any trees close enough to the dorm windows to sneak out of your room at night. And curfew is at ten."

"Yungsoo," his mother complained while they both chuckled.

His blood ran cold for one single second. Then, numb, his face and shoulders relaxed, and he continued eating his pancakes.

His favourite food, this was his favourite food.

His parents never cared that he sneaked out of the house at night since he was fourteen.

Focus on the food, his favourite food.

"Kooky," his mother called him. When he looked up, she seemed frustrated. "Come on, rush a bit. We already finished." She turned on her chair and stood up before his father did.

He looked down and when one second before they had been eating their fruit, their plates were now empty except for his. He couldn't remember when he'd finished his pancakes. The thought of not enjoying them saddened him.

It was supposed to be his last breakfast at the house with his parents. A meal with only the three of them where he was supposed to be celebrated. He was forced to be present when his sister left, then his brother and the table was full of laughter and anecdotes. None of his siblings were there for him. None of his memories were good enough to remember. He was not good enough to be celebrated.

He swallowed down the last bite of food as his lashes held back unwanted tears. Then, he stood up and went to the kitchen. When he opened the door to the wide room with white-coloured furniture, he ignored the cook as he made bread on the counter and looked at the dark-skinned lady washing the dishes. When she noticed his presence, she turned off the water and dried her hands on her apron as she approached him with a nostalgic smile on her gently-lined face. Before he was even close enough, Gloria's arms were already wide and welcoming for him.

He bent down slightly and hugged the shorter woman around her shoulders as she put her arms around his torso both gently and fiercely. Her scent of herbs and spices was what brought back the tears in his eyes.

This was the emotion he'd been looking for in his room. For the first time after twenty-one years, he would be leaving her behind. The woman who would wake him up with a song as she opened his bedroom curtains. Her hands were the ones who taught him how to treat his own injuries and cook his own food. She never shouted at him or raised her hand in his direction and she was always very gentle every time he would hide away in his closet. She was the only person he felt safe with having the keys to his room. The only person who noticed when something was wrong and told his parents.

When she loosened up her hug, he wanted to let the tears fall. He felt small and bare, terrified to live without her. When she looked up at him, he noticed in the movement of her eyebrows that she could see this fear and held his face with her warm hands.

"Everything will be alright, Kooky," she smiled her eyes getting shiny with emotion. "You are strong, you are brave, you only need to believe in yourself and you'll be fine." Her bottom lip trembled as her smile slowly dissapeared. Then, she whispered. "You're free now."

He hugged her tightly again, closing his eyes because he didn't want to leave.

"Thank you for the breakfast. It was delicious." The lump in his throat almost stopped his voice. But he made one more effort. "Thank you."

She caressed his back up and down in soothing motions. It was a gesture as old as him and tears finally fell. She was the pillar he was sure to come back to everytime he went and did something stupid or reckless. His food, water and medicine; she was what he associated with home.

"Jungkook!" His father called from the other side of the door, looking for him.

He gasped, separated from her, and dried his tears in jerky motions. Quickly, he went to the fridge and took a bag of frozen gel from the freezer to put it on his face for a moment.

"One second!" She shouted back. His stomach was beginning to burn again.

Once he left the bag in the freezer again, he straighetend back up to say one last thing to Gloria. She was already giving him a wattle bottle and a small box of medicine for his stomach ache. He bit his lip to stop it from wobbling and took what she offered. Then, he bent down to kiss her cheek and, as he left, the words got stuck in his mouth. He wanted to tell her he loved her. But he left before he could.

Leaving his house had never been as hard until he had to leave his home behind as well.

Garrett, 7:00 am

He was awake before he opened his eyes. He didn't want to face the day. A strong part of him, however, knew it was the best decision. But the cost was breaking him in half.

With a deep breath that filled his lungs with familiar herbs, he opened his eyes to the gray light of the morning filtening through his skylight. He'd left the blind of this window opened after a difficult night of silent goodbyes and loud begs for him to stay.

He organized his bed with care and love, mindful of being grateful to the space he called his own. Though most of the people he called family lived under the same roof with him, he had no blood connection with any. For their geneosity since he'd been a child, every morning he gave thanks to them.

As he showered, he asked the water to clence his mind. With every piece of clothing he put on, he asked the cloth for protection and warmth. He knelt before the altar to the sun and the moon in the wall facing east with only two requests in his heart: To keep his loved ones save and bring them all closer to peace.

Two bags would accompany him on this trip. One was made of strong strands of rope, carrying all the clothes he bought outside the village's grounds. The other was made of leather. He chose this bag made with the skin of a bear because Luz was the one who hunted the beast and made the bag for him. He usually used it to gather medicinal or poisonous plants on his walks to the mountains. Now, it was a piece of home he wanted to take with him.

When he walked out of his room and closed the door, he placed his palm over the wood and whispered his thanks. The days of laughter, nights of tears, and secret moments allowed within those walls were all precious memories. Turning in his place, he walked down the wooden stairs holding onto the smooth railing made of tree branches Luz himself had cut and placed.

Living in what an outsider would call "the attic" was not as lonely as many thought it was. He always loved to walk down the stairs to the second floor and be the one to wake up the second twins, children of Luz, to help them get ready for the day. Draven and Macaria, children born from his second wife, had not come of age yet, so they were still living under their father's roof. But they weren't there that morning. As gifted warriors as they were, they were recruited to be in London with the rest. He looked at their closed doors made of the wood their father had polished with care before their arrival fifteen years ago, and sent out a prayer for them to be safe.

Before he even walked down the stairs to the first -and originally only- floor, he caught noice from the kitchen that gave reason to the smell around the house. Luz was cooking him breakfast. His chets filled with air and then he released it sharply. He couldn't regret his decision now.

He got to the frist floor and looked at the doors to Rixon and Elliot's rooms, the first set of twins Luz had with his first wife. They were both living in the houses they had build by themselves after coming of age five years ago. He'd asked them not to see him off that morning as a final request. Rixon had left the night before without saying goodbye.

He could feel their anger and disappointment even then. He'd made a decision hard to explain and accept. But it was the right one.

He left his bags next to the door and walked over to the kitchen. Luz was giving his back to him, dressed still in his bed clothes. Garrett was glad he'd put on a long sleeve shirt to protect him from the cold. He leaned against the enrtance frame and stared at his powerful back. Strong enough to carry fallen bests and thick tree trunks; the back of a warrior. But a back that hid a vulnerable secret nonetheless.

"Please tell me you're having second thoughts," Luz murmured as he continued to give his back to him, facing the stove.

Garrett found it hard to say the truth.

"I can't."

Luz turned off the stove and transferred the food from one of the pans to two plates they themselves had made. In silence, he truend around and placed the plates over the wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. Without looking at him, he sat on the bench and waited for him.

Garrett could see he hadn't slept after a long night of not wanting to let go of each other. It hurt his heart to see him so strong and yet weakened by his decisions.

He sat down on the bench beside him and closed his eyes.

"Thank you, Zu, for the fuit. Thank you, Nu, for the meat. Thank you, Luz, for the meal we eat." He took his fork and took his first berry sweetened with honey, but he could barely taste it with the lump in his throat.

"I wanted to make you pancakes but I couldn't find the flour," Luz voice was rough with emotion.

Garrett smiled sadly down at his food.

"It's next to the sugar."

"I only found salt."

"On the cabinet next to the sugar, not right beside the sugar. And that's not salt, it's fine powdered sugar for desserts. The salt is next to the flour."

Luz stopped eating. Confused, Garrett looked up at him. His tired eyes were shocked as he reached over with his fork and took a few bites of scrambled eggs. He slapped his forehead and grunted.

Garrett laughed.

"You did not." He reached over to the second plate as well.

"Don't eat it." Luz pushed the plate away from him and stood up. "We're not going to talk about this." He put the eggs back on the pan and took the second pan from the stove to take out the bacon and sausages. "I was prepared, you can't make fun of me."

Garrett couldn't help laughing even more. It was such a great feeling. When Luz turned back around with the two plates, he was also grinning. He sat back down and playfully nudged him to the side.

"This is what happens when you're gone." The playfulness slowly faded away, and so did their smiles as they avoided each other's eyes.

"You lived without me for nearly sixty years. You'll get the hang of it again," he tried reassuring him, but he could hear the sadness in his own voice.

"I don't think I can do all the things you do." He put his elbow on the table and leaned over his food, looking tired again.

Garrett swallowed down his bite of food and tried to lighten up the mood again.

"For a man claiming his body is not a day older than thirty, you do sound like a grandpa."

Instead of working, Luz sounded even more dejected when he spoke again.

"The energy it takes to slow down my aging could increase if I'm unhappy." The dark possibilities regarding this reality made Garrett hold his breath. His silence allerted Luz of what he'd done and he shook his head, straightening back up. "I'm sorry. That's not... That was mean for no reason. I won't age while you're gone, I promise."

Garrett stared into his yellow eyes and grinned sadly.

"It's alright. You can do whatever you want." He said it as a comforting thought. But the truth unsead lingered in the air between them. He had no claim in Luz, such a powerful being with the knowledge of a lifetime and the ability to live beyond three more. In that same note, Luz had no claim in him. A guy who only had the knowlevge he'd accumulated in twenty-two years and still had issues handling his own gifts. A guy who was claimed by someone else seven years before.

Luz leaned closer to him, searching for the slightest hesitation. Garrett could feel his aura with it's strong scent of sweet lime and rum, engulfing him like a warm hug. He sighed, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Thank you for the meal." Turning the other way, he stood up and took the plates to the sink.

"I'll wash them," Luz murmured behind him.

Leaving the room, he took a deep breath. The scent was gone and he forced down the tears on his way to the nearest bathroom. When he walked out, the emotion in his throat had eased and he went straight to Luz who stood barefoot next to the door. He got close to him, straightening to be eye to eye, and gently put his strong arms around him. Luz didn't hesitate when he hugged him back, instead, he held him tighter.

Muscles on muscles, they held tight enough to bruise the other.

"I don't want you to go with her," Luz whispered in his ear.

"She needs me," he whispered back, leaning his head against the side of his.

"Garrett-"

"We already talked about this. Please." He slid his right hand to the center of Luz's back and traced the marking he couldn't feel with his fingertips. "I'm not the only one who can help you with this."

"That's not the only reason I need you here," Luz fought back with a firce embrace, "you make this house a home. You made us all a family. You made me feel human again."

Garrett closed his eyes tightly.

"I am not choosing her over you, how many times do I have to-"

"Until your actions reflect your words."

"Please, Luz. I can't do this right now," emotion was building up again in his throat. "I don't want to go like this."

Luz pulled away just enough so he could hold the sides of his head and connect their foreheads gently. Garrett closed hsi eyes tightly, knowing what was coming. Even then, he let Luz whisper the ancient word.

"Azuo."

Garrett breathed in his citrusy scent, felt the warmth filling his limbs and flowing to the centre of his spine. He separated their foreheads with a gentle gasp of fresh air, his face and shoulders relaxing. When he opened his eyes again, Luz looked just as calm, and yet still sad.

Garrett placed his right hand over Luz's stomach, but Luz took his hand away gently and brought it to his lips.

"Keep your energy. You'll need it more than ever." He kissed his knuckles and gently let him go.

Garrett smiled sadly at him as he stepped away from his embrace. Bending down, he put on his leather jacket and took his things as Luz opened the door for him. The air was cold when it hit his face but it helped him focus. Without looking back, he walked off the wooden porch and made his way through the wet grass to her house. He made eye contact with a neighbour and immediately lowered his head.

He'd already seen their faces of pity when the news of his decision was widely spread.

When he got to her parents' house, there were warriors stationed outside the door. Since they had already been informed, they let him pass. There were herbs to deflect evil hung on each side of the door. He knocked and the door was opened immediately by Conlaed, the father of the house.

"Garrett's here," he announced, then he whispered to him, "I will never be able to thank you enough for what you're doing."

Garrett gave him a tight-lipped smile.

It was the right decision for everyone involved.

A scream was heard from deeper in the one-story house and Conlaed ran inside at once. Then, glass shattered inside. Garrett dropped his things to the side as the warriors behind him charged in, and he went after them.

Conlaed took his shaking wife Kainda out of the room where the screams continued.

"I'm not leaving! You can't make me leave!"

Garrett stood inside the room and Enyo's eyes landed on his. The warriors stood between them, ready to stop her should the need arise. But her lip began to tremble when she saw him. He rushed over and hugged her, giving her his energy at once. A minty scent enveloped them and she slowly stopped shaking, returning the hug.

"It'll be alright," he whispered to her, "I'll be there with you."

It took him twenty percent of his energy to finally have her in a calm state that allowed him to move her out of the house. The warriors, her parents, and a few neighbours standing outside stood quiet, holding their breath as she walked out of the house. Everyone was on alert, waiting. He took both of their luggage in a way that would leave his right hand free. With it, he took her left and gently guided her silently towards the nearest exit to the village.

People stared in utter silence as they passed; as she passed. The two warriors followed them to the edge of the village. Enyo was silent, her eyes misty and unseeing as she stared down at the floor in a state of calm so mayor he grimaced. He had given her too much energy at once. Once at the exit, he turned to nod goodbye to the two warriors. They, in turn, put their right hands to their hearts. The way warriors say goodbye to one of their own.

He smiled warmly at that and the pair of them continued through the woods. Once they passed the last tree surrounded by daisies, he knew they'd left the magical protection of the grounds behind. The very air smelled different from this side of the invisibility barrier.

It had been months since the last time she had an accident, he was sure she was not the same woman she used to be. She'd made him promises and, so far, she had kept them. He was sure they would come back and their people would finally realize how sweet she could be. For now, all they had to do would be to get to the nearest village and take the bus to the university.

The University of Evanthe was the safest place closest to home where they could act like any other person their age. But also, the most vulnerable. Hopes for their heroes to appear on school grounds were almost non-existent and yet there will always be a possibility that he would appear. If he did, however, Garrett promised he would stay away from danger. Because danger would follow The Rose wherever he went. 

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Chapter 2: 25th of February

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