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Meeria

Summary:

In a fight, they’re lethal. Around each other, they melt.

Notes:

Lesson learnt - never try to challenge yourself to write only a 30k fic, it will laugh and become a monster-length fic instead.

This is the most mashed-up, slightly outlandish, world that my brain has cooked up, so, on that note, get ready to experience large bouts of, 'WTF is going on?!'. I promise that it's all part of the ride 😉

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Solaria

Chapter Text

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The pressure of bodies standing toe-to-toe with your own, eyes averted to avoid that awkwardness that comes with being forced to share such close proximity, all the while trying to remain on your feet and not cause a human domino effect as the subway carriages roar through the underground tunnels.

 

Taehyung is so used to this dance of public commuting, he does it with his eyes shut sometimes, trying to catch a few seconds, minutes, of sleep as he stands, clutching the railing, waiting for his stop to come.

 

Living in the fast-growing metropolis of Seoul, Taehyung’s entire existence has narrowed down onto the daily grind of being an adult with too many bills, and no time for a social life.

 

Working in a call centre for a bank chain, the last thing Taehyung wants to do at the end of his shift is to go out socialising, especially if it’s been one of those days where customers deem him to be Satan himself, all because they were the ones that thought a credit card meant free money.

 

But, it’s a job, at the end of the day, even if it kills his soul sometimes. It helps pay for his one room apartment, mediocre groceries, his phone plan, and all the other boring necessities one needs to survive in modern day living.

 

His parents have long given up on trying to get him to apply for university using scholarships once he finished his military duty, and have resigned to the fact that Taehyung refuses to conform to make himself more ‘desirable’ for marriage.

 

One, he’s gay, so until that becomes legal here, he isn’t getting married any time soon, and two, his parents needs to stop thinking that he’s in a ‘phase’ - he’s twenty-seven years old, he knows he likes cock after suppressing his attraction for his entire adolescence.

 

He refuses to conform anymore; he’s spent most of his life doing just that.

 

Following the motion of the bodies around him, Taehyung exits the subway carriage, and mindlessly trails after the slow-moving crowd towards the stairs and escalators.

 

Tapping his card on his way out through the barriers, the slight of stench of garbage and drainage systems greets him, along with the muggy air of a summer night.

 

Taehyung heads away from the bright lights and chaotic sounds on the front streets, walking down the thin backstreets, leaving behind the towering skyscrapers of overpriced apartments and commercial buildings, and towards the more lived-in, affordable, apartment blocks.

 

He’s already sweating under the collar of his work shirt from climbing the subway stairs, and the thick muggy air just encourages for more sweat to form as he heads for his own apartment building, a four-floor block that looks newly renovated outside, but really isn’t when you step into the apartments.

 

Tapping in the front door entrance code and waiting for the door to slide open, Taehyung drags his feet up the flight of stairs to his own apartment on the third floor, the tiled flooring echoing the sounds of his shoes as it hits off the large tiled walls.

 

When he reaches his landing, he groans at seeing the boxes against his door.

 

He forgot that he restocked his ramen cupboard the other night.

 

At least they’re light to pick up and balance as he taps in his entrance code for his apartment, and juggles with the heavy metal door as he slips himself and the boxes inside his shoebox of an apartment.

 

“Home sweet home,” Taehyung sighs out to himself as the door slams shut behind him, echoing loudly in the landing like the shitty neighbour that he is sometimes in that way, as he stands under the entrance light, which also acts as his kitchen light whenever he stands anywhere near the sensor.

 

Taehyung dumps the boxes onto the floor in front of his kitchen cupboards, and tugs off his shoes, groaning with relief as his socked feet breathe as he pads up onto the laminated flooring of his apartment, hurrying for his lamp on his desk that sits at the bottom of his bed.

 

His desk doubles as a TV stand, kitchen table, laundry collector, and everything else since he has no room for extra storage.

 

Taehyung groans as he climbs onto his bed, reaching for his air conditioner remote, and turns it on to help lower the level of trapped heat inside the small space.

 

The cold air blasts from behind him, cooling the back of his nape and his sweaty brown hair that needs to be cut back into a style and shape that doesn’t resemble, ‘lifeless’.

 

Dumping his backpack onto the bed behind him, Taehyung has to resist the urge to flop back onto it just for a moment to adjust to being alone and in the comfort of his own space.

 

Before getting this job, Taehyung was an extroverted butterfly that thrived of being around his friends, and then he got this job and swiftly began to hate the entire human race very quickly.

 

“Toilet, food, shower, bed,” he mumbles under his breath, forcing up his resisting body to walk the five steps to his bathroom door that sits next to the sliding door of his veranda laundry room.

 

By the time he’s flopped back onto his bed, the room even more humid from his shower which forces his ancient air conditioner to work harder, Taehyung flicks through his social media feeds, butt naked, swallowing back yawns of exhaustion.

 

It’s all routine, even down to him plugging in his phone to charge on his desk, in front of his TV that’s facing his bed, and turns the air conditioner to ‘eco’ mode so that he doesn’t run up a massive bill this month as summer finally comes to an end.

 

And the same routine will follow tomorrow, as well.

 

Taehyung’s life is one big routine now.

 

The joys of being an adult, huh?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Come on, Taehyung, it’s only harmless fun,” Sunye, one of his female colleagues encourages, trying to convince him to join the office floor on a pub crawl.

 

Before Taehyung can decline – again – there is an arm being wrapped around the back of his neck and shoulders, dragging him into the side of the person hooking him in, stopping him from hightailing it to the building’s entrance.

 

“Yeah, Tae, it’s harmless fun,” Hoseok, one of the few he would consider a friend outside of work hours, encourages with a blinding grin.

 

“I honestly can’t be bothered, hyung,” Taehyung whines, hoping the older male will take pity and just let Taehyung go home to finish re-watching his favourite anime with greasy take-out to complete the self-caring package.

 

“You’re telling me that you’re leaving here, from staring at one screen all day, to then go home and stare at another?” Hoseok deadpans as the small group that they’re a part of head outside into the muggy night air.

 

“Yes?” Taehyung answers, already sweating now that they’ve left behind the air-conditioned building.

 

Hoseok snorts as he messes up Taehyung’s once neat locks. “As your hyung, I can’t allow you to do that. It’s Saturday, after all! And I know you’re off work tomorrow, so you can have a few drinks.”

 

It’s a true testament to how much Taehyung actually enjoys Hoseok’s company and the friendship they have as he allows the older male to drag him towards the subway station entrance.

 

He can always finish watching his anime tomorrow. It’ll make his hang-over more survivable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In hindsight, Taehyung should’ve gone straight home.

 

That way, he’d be avoiding this whole ordeal as he sits in the cramped room that smells of strong incenses, has too many fairy lights dangling from the walls, trying desperately to sober up so that he can drag his giggling hyung out of here.

 

“Wait, wait, Taehyung-ah, he hasn’t read mine yet!” Hoseok objects to the pulling that Taehyung is doing as he tries to head back to the door of this cupboard room.

 

Taehyung honestly can’t recall whose idea this was, to come down into the basement of the highly questionable building that they’re now currently in since the place they had left was getting too rowdy with the repetitive EDM music.

 

He thinks they had been lured in by the staff on the street promoting the place, and Taehyung had followed the group without really knowing just what this new exciting place really was.

 

A mistake he’s beginning to greatly regret.

 

Taehyung stares at the posters on the walls, ones that look like the bigger versions of the tarot cards on the table, the diagram pictures of something called ‘chakras’, and feels his foggy mind struggle to compute everything that he’s seeing as he tugs for his friend to get up from the chair in front of the table that a middle-aged male sits behind.

 

Taehyung can hear the sounds of their group standing outside the door, waiting for them, since their own turns have been and gone in the other rooms, leaving Hoseok and Taehyung last.

 

Taehyung hisses as his hip bangs into the edge of the table from the force of Hoseok’s own tug, and he finds himself sitting once again, meeting the friendly smile of the male sitting opposite them.

 

“Do my friend first, please,” Hoseok instructs with a slight slur as he claps a hand onto Taehyung’s shoulder that also acts as a weight.

 

Taehyung really hasn’t got the brain power to try and question the authenticity of this whole thing, never mind trying to answer the stranger’s question of, “work, money, or love?”

 

He can’t see work changing in the near future, nor the state of his bank balance, so Taehyung is left with the last option, another thing that he can’t see happening soon.

 

This dry spell that he’s been stuck in since before he left for the army has yet to break, years later.

 

“Love, I guess,” Taehyung sighs out, resigning himself over to the experience, much to the happiness of his drunk friend.

 

“Taehyung-ah, here, he’s very pretty, but he hides himself, you know?” Hoseok tells the stranger as the male lies down the cards, faced down. “He always hurries home, wears clothing that swamps him, and now that his hair is long, he’s hiding behind that too.”

 

Taehyung’s right eye twitches at the wonderful description of himself.

 

Taehyung wishes – again – that he just went home for the night instead of dealing with this random step for divine guidance, or whatever tarot means.

 

“Pick five, please,” the male directs with a calming tone, his aged hands waving over the back of the cards.

 

Taehyung randomly picks five out, not caring about the order, just wanting this over with so that he can grab a taxi home.

 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this at whatever o’clock it is,” Taehyung grunts out, resisting the urge to lean his elbow on the table to prop himself up as the buzz from the alcohol leaves, leaving behind the slowness of the impending need to sleep.

 

“It’s fun, live your life, Taehyung-ah,” Hoseok coos at him, gently cuffing the underside of Taehyung’s jaw, before they both look back down at what the male is reading from the five cards.

 

Taehyung doesn’t even react when Hoseok gasps and leans forward as Taehyung politely swallows back the first yawn of many more to come.

 

Clearly, his hyung knows more about this.

 

“You’re heading for a big change in your life,” the stranger begins, and Taehyung already knows how the rest is going to follow hearing that, and forces himself to at least nod along to the drivel that the male is trying to convince him will change his entire life.

 

“You won’t be able to hide from what is coming….no….you’ll be forced out of your comfort zone.”

 

“Sounds like military service, but continue,” Taehyung comments, looking at the door behind them, wondering how much longer they have to sit here.

 

“Your silver-lining is coming,” the male finishes ominously, and Taehyung looks at his silent hyung, only to roll his eyes at the enraptured look on the drunk male’s face.

 

“Let’s see if your own silver-lining is coming, hyung,” Taehyung grunts out as the male resets his deck of cards.

 

“I hope you paid attention to what he was telling you, Taehyung-ah. It sounds good,” Hoseok huffs out, sitting on the edge of his chair, eager for his turn.

 

Taehyung, obviously, wasn’t.

 

“Probably is, hyung. Probably too good to even come true,” Taehyung yawns out, resting his head back against the chair, and rests his eyes for a few seconds, idly listening to them talk to each other.

 

And if he startles awake when Hoseok all but yanks him from his chair, no one needs to know.

 

Both of them bow at the male, and Hoseok pays for both of them – which is great, since Taehyung doesn’t even know how much all of this was advertised as – but before they leave, the stranger catches hold of Taehyung’s wrist, halting their departure.

 

“Yes?” Taehyung asks, slightly unnerved by the sudden skin contact from the stranger, as he looks into the older male’s grey, cloudy, eyes, and realises with a jolt that he’s blind.

 

Taehyung swallows as he stares into those grey, slightly cloudy, eyes, feeling more alert than he has since walking into the place.

 

“I hope you paid attention to my advice,” the male says slowly, before letting Taehyung go.

 

Taehyung doesn’t know how fast to leave, his spine crawling from the unnerved feeling hanging on him.

 

Even back with the group he’s been with all night, he doesn’t pay attention to them swapping supposed predictions of how their future will go.

 

Taehyung looks back at the stairwell that they’ve just left, searching for a name to avoid in the future.

 

 

The Void

 

 

He can’t stop rubbing his wrist, the one that was grabbed, still feeling spooked, as he hurries after the group.

 

Taehyung needs this night to end, and for his bed to greet him.

 

He should’ve definitely stayed home to binge watch his anime.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A month crawls by since that rather random night of seeking divine advice, and even though Taehyung knew it was all bullshit, Hoseok is still disappointed that Taehyung’s love life is still as dry as a desert.

 

“He sounded so sure,” Hoseok complains during their break, nursing a coffee in the building canteen.

 

“They all do, it’s how they keep the business going,” Taehyung says as he stirs the black tar in his cup. He doesn’t like drinking coffee, but when he has days like today, where the world thinks everything is his fault for their mistakes, Taehyung needs it to get through the rest of his shift.

 

Working in the complaints department means he gets a bit extra on his pay cheque, but it also tests how close his patience can last without getting himself fired, or bursting into tears at his desk after being chewed out from one person too damn many.

 

“You should get on Grindr, that may help.”

 

Taehyung glares at his hyung. “No.”

 

“Oh, come on! Have you even tried it?” Hoseok argues, not giving up.

 

“Yes.”

 

“You’re such a filthy liar, hyung is disappointed in you,” Hoseok retorts back with, his face unimpressed.

 

“If the world wanted me to get good dick, it’ll show me it,” Taehyung shrugs as he blows down onto his cup.

 

“Not so sure the world works like that.”

 

“Not for much longer, it won’t. Climate change is coming for us all.”

 

Hoseok groans loudly at Taehyung’s dry response, and shakes his head at Taehyung’s amused stare over the rim of his cup.

 

“Shouldn’t that be prompting you to find it before the world explodes with plastic and heat?” Hoseok questions, bringing his own cup up to his lips to take a sip from.

 

“If I really want to, hyung, I can easily find someone to sleep with. I just can’t be bothered.”

 

“Motto of your life at the moment, Taehyung-ah. You’re only twenty-seven, and yet you sound so aged,” Hoseok says gently, concern in his eyes.

 

“Nothing wrong with that, it means I enjoy the slower pace of life,” Taehyung points back, touched for the concern, but not needing it.

 

He’s aware that his life is one massive, boring, routine, one that is vastly different from his years doing his military service, so of course he’s going to take advantage of the slower pace.

 

“You’re still young, Taehyung-ah. You should expand your horizons,” Hoseok says as they take their cups to their floor, their break almost up.

 

“We’ll see, hyung,” Taehyung says, not agreeing or fulling denying such a thing, and Hoseok takes it with another sigh of his.

 

The only horizon he is going to explore today is how far his patience can go before he ‘accidently’ disconnects on a caller.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Living in Seoul for the many years that he has, Taehyung has long become used to asshole motorists that turn the backstreets into death traps as you scramble to avoid their speeding cars or bikes.

 

Taehyung fucking hates delivery bikes the most, he’s had to dive out of the way from one too many due to the insane speeds they hurl themselves around corners, talking on the phone, or even playing a game on their phone instead of watching where the fuck they’re supposed to be going.

 

Standing with his back flushed to the building wall, his bag of snacks from his local GS25, and a cheeky bottle of beer to treat himself after a day of being chewed out by strangers, Taehyung waits for the chunky Mercedes crawling down the street to hurry the fuck up so he can actually continue on his own journey.

 

“Come on, asshole, you shouldn’t own a big car if you can’t drive it,” Taehyung growls to himself, annoyed, since it’s due to rain any second, and he doesn’t want to get caught in it. His trip to the convenience store was supposed to be a quick one.

 

When the black, sleek-looking, vehicle finally passes him, Taehyung trails behind it, his canvas bag swinging from where he has the handle wrapped around his wrist and hand since he hasn’t got the energy to mess with it falling off his shoulder whilst he walks.

 

Taehyung shakes his head at the driver still crawling down the backstreet, despite there being ample room on either side of the car.

 

Taehyung turns at the corner of the block leading to his apartment building, hearing the sound of an incoming bike either coming from where he’s just turned from, or down another nearby street, and feels the first warning signs of rain drop onto his hair.

 

Taehyung squints up at the night sky that is full of light pollution, and Taehyung’s cheek is the next place for a droplet of rain to fall onto.

 

“Great,” Taehyung grunts as he picks his pace a little, the sound of the bike getting closer, distorting the silence as the obnoxious sound of its engine rattles all the way around the block, “just fucking-”

 

Taehyung feels himself being violently shoved forward.

 

Hears the bike’s engine as if it is roaring in his ears.

 

Feels pain light up like a crack of thunder up his spine as a rumble of thunder blasts from above.

 

And then…..nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Darkness slowly ebbs away, brightness chasing it away from behind closed eyelids.

 

Taehyung slowly blinks past the harsh lighting currently blinding his retinas, groaning lowly in his throat as he tries to turn onto his side to escape the sun coming in through his window.

 

He must’ve forgot to close his curtain when he came in last night.

 

Taehyung tenses, heart locking in place.

 

He didn’t……last night……

 

Taehyung hisses as lightning hot pain races down his spine, his eyes snapping shut as his entire body ignites with bone deep, fiery, aches and pains.

 

“Sir, he’s awake!” a distant, foggy, unknown voice breaks through Taehyung’s brain screaming at him at how much his body feels like it has been booted all over by a steel-capped boot.

 

The more he becomes aware of his body; the more Taehyung wishes he was still unconscious.

 

“Your-Sir, calm down, you’re only agitating your injuries,” the same foggy voice speaks, closer this time, and Taehyung forces his eyes to squint open as he tries his best to not tense all of his muscles as he lets go of the death grip that he had on the bedsheet over his body.

 

The male standing next to the bed looks more like a scientist than any nurse he’s ever seen - from the long white laboratory coat, the black rubber gloves that go all the way up to his elbows before being secured by poppers around the elbow joint, black face mouth mask, and clear plastic glasses that cover his gold eyes.

 

Taehyung squints through the pain lashing through his muscles.

 

“Sir?” Unknown man frowns at the intense squinting.

 

“What brand are your lenses?” Taehyung blurts out, because those are some impressive eye contacts – the gold looks like melted, liquid, gold, so reflective, and dazzling – Taehyung could use a pair for when Halloween hits the bars of Seoul.

 

Alarm shoots through those golden eyes, and the stranger jerks his head back to look over his shoulder.

 

Sir!” he calls, more insistent this time, before he looks back at Taehyung with a calm look that Taehyung can see straight through.

 

“Why are you dressed like that, what hospital am I in?” Taehyung groans out, figuring that this person may be part of a cleaning crew and had the unfortunate timing in seeing Taehyung come to, feeling his body tire from the overwhelming strength of pain as it pulses with a deep bone ache.

 

Taehyung hopes to whoever sits in the clouds that the asshole biker has good insurance, because Taehyung is going to sue that motherfucker so hard, he’ll think twice every time he turns a corner whilst riding.

 

“Hospital?” he hears the male whisper, lost, and Taehyung nods, blinking open his tired eyes.

 

“Yeah, hospital,” Taehyung repeats, wondering if he doesn’t sound as coherent as he thinks he sounds.

 

He glances to see how many bags of pain relief are hanging on his IV pole, and stares at the lack of one.

 

Taehyung’s gaze then darts to his hands, and instead of seeing him hooked up to an IV line - like one should be after being involved in a serious collision - Taehyung is staring down at hands that are completely free from IV lines.

 

No fucking wonder he’s in so much pain.

 

“Where is my pain relief?” Taehyung demands hotly.

 

“Sir, you’re in it,” the male slowly states, looking even more alarmed, as he gestures around the empty space surrounding Taehyung.

 

Taehyung better not be in a holistic hospital, or something along those lines, his spine feels like it has been crunched under a giant’s boot, for fuck sake, he needs morphine.

 

“Get me a doctor, now,” Taehyung grunts out sharply as he plants his hands onto his bed, and moves to shift himself up into a sitting position to look more authoritative.

 

“Sir, the field-”

 

Taehyung hisses as he’s suddenly blinded by a sudden bright flash of light and protectively covers his eyes with his hands as he blinks past the flashes he’s still seeing behind his eyelids as he recovers.

 

He hears a low hum, almost like how live electricity sounds when you buy a cheap wall plug, and feels all the hairs on his body stand up as he peeks through his fingers to see why he can hear such a thing so unnervingly close to him.

 

Taehyung stares through the gaps of his fingers as the air above him ripples, almost like a mosaic wave of little, microscopic, white flashes of light.

 

Taehyung is aware that he’s not breathing when he sucks in a large, terrified, lungful of air when the rippling stops, and the air above him is still, no longer flashing, looking normal once more.

 

The fuck?!” Taehyung wheezes, feels his heart sprint from fear, and hears movement from his right, causing him to jerk to see what and who it is.

 

“Easy, sir, you’re okay,” another male has joined them, and Taehyung can spy two more behind the current two next to him.

 

Taehyung stares at the male’s eyes - gold, just like the other – and then at what he’s wearing, which is the same scientist uniform as the first dude.

 

“The disorientation will fade, it’s just a symptom of deep sleep,” cosplay dude number two reassures softly, but it does the opposite as Taehyung stares at him with large question marks in his eyes and above his fucking skull.

 

“You mean, a coma?” Taehyung questions, completely fucking lost, because he’s pretty fucking sure from watching medical shows that IVs exist for those too.

 

The male frowns. “Coma?”

 

Taehyung’s terror ramps up another notch.

 

Yeah, no.

 

He’s not staying in this fucked up hospital that doesn’t even know what a coma is, cheap healthcare be fucking damned, he is out of here.

 

Taehyung grits his teeth against the pain that refuses to shut the fuck up, and forces himself to sit up, ignoring the bright explosion of light, the growing hum of electricity, and the concerned shouts from beside him.

 

Taehyung yells in shock and anger when he feels himself being pushed down, and snaps his eyes open against the bright light to see why.

 

The rippling air from before is violent now as white streaks of light rush around in a dome-shape over Taehyung’s bed.

 

Taehyung manages to suck in a gulp of air, feels his chest pulse harder with urgency to escape from this madhouse, feels his skin prickle with the sudden wave of rushing urgency, and then the rippling dome around him shatters with dying sparks of white light, like it’s suddenly as overwhelmed as he is.

 

The air turns silent after that, only the fast sounds of Taehyung’s panicking breathing being clearly heard now that the hum of electricity has died.

 

“He broke the healing field,” a voice whispers, stunned, and Taehyung glances to see that it’s the first dude who has said it.

 

“I’ll break a lot more if you don’t let me go,” Taehyung warns as he swings his feet over the edge of his bed, ignoring concerned calls, as he uses the bed as a prop so that he can find his balance.

 

“Sir, you mustn’t stand, your spine hasn’t-”

 

Taehyung’s face immediately smacks down onto the mattress as he puts all of his weight onto his feet, and groans as a new dose of excruciating pain lights up his spine, from the base of his ass, to the top of his skull.

 

“-set yet,” the same voice sighs out, and Taehyung can’t track anything more as his body sags, boneless, to the floor, but he feels more than one set of hands hold him, lifting him back onto the bed, laying him down.

 

Taehyung’s head rolls as he fights the dark spots in his vision.

 

He can’t fall unconscious, he needs to escape, and get himself to a real fucking hospital.

 

“Reset the healing field, double his incubation time, and alert all staff that he needs to be checked every fifteen minutes for the first hour.”

 

Healing field?

 

Incubation time?

 

What kind of fucking hospital is this place?!

 

Taehyung can’t even lift his little finger, and is completely helpless as darkness shoos away the brightness, once more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Taehyung wakes up this time, he’s no longer in pain.

 

He almost sags into the bed with sweet relief as he slowly blinks awake, the brightness a touch lower than earlier.

 

Hallucinating from morphine - trippy, but sounds about right.

 

Taehyung’s mouth is drier than his non-existent love life, and as he squints around the dimly lit room, he sees the metal tray that you see in hospital rooms, the ones that can be wheeled over so you can eat from it without leaving the bed.

 

Taehyung grunts softly to himself as he eases himself up, lying back against the pillows, sitting up as he reaches, fingertips straining for the tray that has a glass jug of water and an upturned glass next to it.

 

When he finally snags a hold of it and drags it slowly towards his bed, Taehyung’s hands are shaking as he slowly pours himself a glass of water, the two glasses clinking a little off each other due to the slight shakiness.

 

Setting the jug back down, Taehyung cradles the glass with both of his hands, and takes a much-needed drink, savouring the coolness running down his throat.

 

Only, as he’s halfway through, he notices something amiss.

 

Considering that he’s numb from morphine, his hands have no IV lines, not even a hint of a bandaid to cover the entrance point from any recent needles.

 

Licking his lips, Taehyung glances around him, a lot more alert now that he’s semi-hydrated.

 

The room that he’s in is plain with white, smooth, tiled floors, and Taehyung thinks the walls are the same too, judging by how the lamp above his bed reflects off the walls.

 

There isn’t a window, and there is only one door into the room.

 

Taehyung isn’t surprised at the lack of private bathroom access, those rooms are more expensive, and he doesn’t think his work health insurance covers costs like that.

 

Sighing, Taehyung searches for signs of his personal clothing and items. He needs to contact work, depending on how long he’s been stuck in hospital.

 

Seeing the thin white locker in the corner of the room, Taehyung eases his pleasantly numb body from the bed, holding onto it to make sure that he can walk with the numbness, before he shuffles his way to the locker.

 

It’s a bigger version of the tiny cube lockers he used to have in his school homeroom, so he clicks it open with ease, ignoring the full-length mirror attached to the inside of the door because he doesn’t need to confirm how rough he looks – he can feel it very clearly - as he reaches inside to grab the only hanger inside that has a clothing bag on it.

 

Unzipping the bag, Taehyung pulls the white plastic bag down to unearth his clothing where – hopefully – his phone is still in his jean’s pocket and not lying down, smashed, on the road near his place.

 

Taehyung’s hands falter at seeing the contents, and then brings the piece of clothing towards him, frowning as he rubs his thumbs over the silk material.

 

The only silky thing that he owns is an eye mask for sleeping, and not whatever this is in his hands.

 

So…. whose clothes are these?

 

Taehyung’s head turns as he hears the door handle turn, mouth open to question the nurse or doctor coming into his room.

 

Taehyung’s mouth hangs open as the scientist-cosplay male from his hallucination jolts slightly in surprise, not expecting to see Taehyung up on his feet and so close to the door.

 

“You-”

 

You?!” Taehyung cuts off the other male, hands fisting the material, as a familiar pulse of urgency in his chest presents itself once more as he stares at the male he hallucinated.

 

The male pauses in the open doorway, hand still on the door handle, looking nervous. “I apologise, Your Highness. I meant no disrespect.”

 

Now Taehyung is even more fucking confused as he blurts out a slightly distressed, “what?”

 

The male edges into the room after glancing quickly over his shoulder.

 

“I-I need to conduct an evaluation to make sure that you have fully recovered,” the male continues, and it’s only then that Taehyung notes the clipboard in his other hand.

 

“You’re not doing anything to me whilst you’re dressed like a mad scientist,” Taehyung says as he instantly backs away from the male.

 

The male frowns, gold eyes confused, as he looks down at his clothing.

 

Taehyung uses that chance to escape.

 

The male makes a startled sound as he darts to avoid Taehyung’s body as he dives past him.

 

He doesn’t know how long this morphine is going to last, he needs to move as far and fast as he can from this crazy place.

 

Taehyung sees more people dressed similarly to the dude that is now shouting behind him, sees the looks of shock and confusion as Taehyung races down the white, tiled, steps that a sign had directed as an exit point, his bare feet slapping off the smooth, cold, floor.

 

This entire place is dressed as a laboratory, all while, with smooth tiles on the floor and walls, which further causes white, hot, fear to rush through Taehyung as he hurries towards the metal doors ahead, the words, ‘exit/entrance’ above it.

 

He doesn’t even realise that he has ran through a waiting area, too intent on escaping to question the sanity of the people sitting on the benches he’s sprinted past.

 

Until someone calls his name, just before he reaches the metal doors.

 

Taehyung’s chest is heaving from running so fast as he spins around on the spot at the familiar voice, and feels the blood in his body drain down to his feet as he sees Hoseok hurry towards him.

 

Only, it’s not Hoseok.

 

Hoseok’s eyes are a deep brown, and he never wears contact lenses because he’s so skittish of anything anywhere near his eyes.

 

But, this person that has his friend’s face has gold eyes.

 

Taehyung’s arms automatically rise up in front of him, palms facing the male, and Not-Hoseok freezes, his own snapping up to mimic Taehyung’s own.

 

“Easy, Taehyung. You’re just disoriented,” Hoseok says in a soothing tone, and Taehyung’s spine crawls with it because it’s not his Hoseok, despite it sounding like him.

 

“I don’t know how you know my name, or why you look like him, but stay back, I know how to fight,” Taehyung warns, heart racing, his body feeling like it’s vibrating with energy as his flight-fight instinct continues to push that pulse of urgency from his chest.

 

Not-Hoseok frowns, concerned. “Who do I look like?”

 

“Hoseok, my friend, and you’re clearly not him,” Taehyung hisses out, backing slowly toward the metal door behind him.

 

“I am your friend, Taehyung. We trained together, work together,” Not-Hoseok says, still speaking in that soothing tone.

 

Taehyung scoffs at that, ignoring the crowd that they’re drawing. “No, you’re not. My Hoseok wouldn’t be caught dead wearing gold eye contact lenses.”

 

Not-Hoseok’s gold eyes widen at that. “Eye contacts?”

 

Taehyung gestures at his face. “Yes! The things you put in your eyes, don’t play dumb.”

 

“Taehyung…” Not-Hoseok breathes out slowly, before he does something with his hands, and before Taehyung can comment on the unnecessary dancer hands, he’s shoving himself as fast as he can away from the wall of shimmering water floating in the air.

 

“You have gold eyes too,” he hears Not-Hoseok says, but Taehyung doesn’t process the words fully.

 

How can he, when the reflection staring back at him has his face, but that is it.

 

His natural brown hair is no more, in its place is the perfect shade of honey blonde with a slightly dark root, and the shaggy-looking lengths look glossy and shiny in a way that his hair has never looked in a day of its entire existence, and his eyes….

 

Staring back at him are pure, melted, golden eyes.

 

Taehyung blinks.

 

The gold eyes blink back.

 

“Taehyung?”

 

That is his name.

 

This is his face.

 

Those are not his eyes.

 

“Easy, Taehyung. You’re going to throw off too much energy,” Not-Hoseok cautions, and Taehyung’s reflection vanishes into thin air, no traces of water on the floor, or anywhere else.

 

Taehyung’s chest pulses faster.

 

“Where am I?” He asks, throat scratchy and tight.

 

Not-Hoseok frowns. “Home.”

 

This blatantly isn’t home.

 

Where am I?!” Taehyung snaps out, afraid and angry that he’s not getting the answers he desperately needs.

 

That fast pulsing sensation in his chest explodes along with his voice.

 

He feels his entire left arm burn and tingle in a way that it’s never done so before, and as voices explode around him as the lights in the white prison-like waiting area he’s still standing in flicker dramatically, Taehyung gasps as his right hand clutches tightly on his left arm that feels like it’s melting from his body.

 

“Taehyung!” Not-Hoseok barks, tone urgent, and his shadow blocks out the chaos of flickering lights behind him. “You need to control the build-up!”

 

Taehyung’s gasps turn into cries of horror as his entire left arm lights up with chaotic strands of white electricity wriggling around the entire length of his arm, growing brighter and brighter.

 

“No! Don’t touch the doo-” Not-Hoseok barks in fright as Taehyung’s body moves on flight instinct.

 

Metal door, and live electricity?

 

The saying is true, they’re not best friends.

 

For the third time, darkness comes back for him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Disorientation is normal after a long incubation period of deep sleep.”

 

“I understand that, doctor. But, he didn’t even recognise me. I could tell by his gaze.”

 

“It’ll lessen in time.”

 

“With all due respect, doctor, how sure are we that his spine injuries weren’t the only thing that he’s injured?”

 

“We thoroughly examined him upon arrival, he-”

 

“He took the brunt of the attack. The full force of the Void’s magic, and you’re telling me that he only sustained spine injuries?”

 

Magic?

 

“His mind is sound, Hoseok. The heela current would’ve found an injury within his mind and healed it, along with his spine.”

 

“I think you’re wrong. I’ve seen Taehyung come out of deep sleep plenty of times, a downfall of our job, but I have never seen him so…afraid.”

 

Job?

 

“You’re exhausted. The prince is healthy, and the heela current has found no other injuries. When he wakes up, he’ll be a lot less disorientated, I assure you.”

 

Prince??

 

Taehyung’s eyes slowly open, the room much darker than earlier, but he can sense two people in the room with him.

 

Taehyung’s heart thumps hard.

 

He can….feel them?

 

What the fuck,” Taehyung whispers to himself as he lies, frozen, on his bed as he easily picks up two strong wave sensations coming from the individuals in the room.

 

It’s like they’re tethered to him, allowing him to feel the ripples in the air.

 

It’s something he’s never felt before. It’s something that you shouldn’t be able to feel.

 

“Taehyung?” Not-Hoseok’s voice whispers, and Taehyung feels a wave come closer to him as he turns his head to look up at the male’s concerned face.

 

“How do you feel?” Not-Hoseok questions, gold eyes searching Taehyung’s own. “You electrocuted yourself with your own magic, something I thought you outgrew.”

 

Taehyung’s lungs stutter. “What?”

 

Not-Hoseok’s face becomes even more concerned, and he glances over his shoulder at where Taehyung can feel the other air-wave sensation come from, “I told you that something is wrong,” the male suddenly growls out, his worry and frustration present in his voice.

 

Taehyung finds himself staring at the supposed doctor, if what he heard was correct.

 

“I’m going to evaluate you, sir, is that okay?” the scientist-cosplay-so-called-doctor asks him, and Taehyung can only stare at the two, wondering when the fuck this dream is going to end already.

 

“What is your name?” the doctor begins, bringing up a clipboard that the other male from earlier had.

 

“Kim Taehyung,” Taehyung answers thickly, throat tight.

 

“How old are you?”

 

“Twenty-seven.”

 

“Where were you born?”

 

“Seoul.”

 

The scientist-cosplay-so-called-doctor and Not-Hoseok’s face snap away from the clipboard to stare at Taehyung.

 

“Where were you born, sir?” the scientist-cosplay-so-called-doctor asks again, and Taehyung’s chest pulses again with urgency to run.

 

“Seoul, South Korea,” Taehyung answers, wondering how many ‘Seouls’ there are in the fucking world.

 

“What is your job?” Not-Hoseok demands as the scientist-cosplay-so-called-doctor stares at Taehyung in mute shock.

 

“In a bank’s call centre?” Taehyung answers slowly, not liking how this picture is turning out as Not-Hoseok inhales sharply through his nose and all but yanks the scientist-cosplay-so-called-doctor’s by his white coat collar with him out of the room.

 

Taehyung is left alone in the room that he keeps waking up in, and this time, when he sits up, his body feels different.

 

It….it feels like he has something under his skin, something like a….like, like the pulse that appears strongly in his chest, only this pulse is all over his body.

 

Taehyung traces his fingers over his left arm, seeing it completely unblemished from the freak show that he had hallucinated earlier.

 

But, as he traces the pads of his fingers over his skin, that soft pulse grows strong where ever his touch lies.

 

He yanks his hand away, breathing fast, as he shoves himself off the bed and towards the locker in the corner of the room.

 

This time, he stares at his reflection in the door mirror.

 

He’s dressed in, what he can only describe as, white silk pyjamas with gold embroidered stitching.

 

What is it with this place and the colour white?!

 

Taehyung runs his hands through the blonde lengths of his hair, swallowing tightly at seeing himself with such a bold colour on his head.

 

He also leans closer towards the mirror, studying his eyes, and even testing with his fingertip to see if they are real or fake.

 

Taehyung slams the locker door shut when he realises his new eye colour is, indeed, very fucking real.

 

“Taehyung?”

 

Taehyung glances at Not-Hoseok’s voice, watches as the male enters the room again.

 

This time, he takes in the full body apparel of black combat trousers, black compression shirt that shows off the lines of the male’s body, and the heavy boots on his feet.

 

“You…you really don’t remember who I am?” Not-Hoseok questions carefully, his expression matching it.

 

Taehyung wraps his arms around himself as guilt runs through him at the look gracing the male’s face, even as he still remains confused and anxious.

 

“I…you’re not the Hoseok that I know.”

 

Not-Hoseok’s face flinches, but Taehyung can’t tell if it’s because of his answer, or if he’s coming across as crazy to the male.

 

Honestly, Taehyung is wondering if he’s gone a bit loopy-loop to be dreaming up something as vivid as this hallucination.

 

“The doctor still insists it’s just you adjusting to being awake again,” Not-Hoseok says as he approaches Taehyung, “so, he’s still discharging you in the hope that being in familiar surroundings will jog your memory,” he continues as he opens up the locker and brings out the clothing bag that Taehyung had unzipped earlier.

 

Taehyung doesn’t grab the offered hanger, still holding himself tightly.

 

Fuck it, he’ll play along with his subconscious.

 

“I…this sounds insane, but, where am I?” Taehyung whispers, needing an answer already.

 

“In a healing facility.”

 

Not-Hoseok may have his Hoseok’s snark, so it seems.

 

Where is this facility?” Taehyung reiterates.

 

“The Solaria Realm, your birth realm, Taehyung,” Not-Hoseok reveals, and Taehyung fixates on one word that doesn’t exist anymore in modern living.

 

“When you say, ‘realm’, do you mean that country wise, or universe wise,” Taehyung asks, heart tripping over itself, throat tightening again.

 

Not-Hoseok frowns, confused. “What?”

 

“Look, none of this makes sense – you have my friend’s face, I have my face, but not really - so this is either some wacky coma dream that I’m having due to the asshole that ran me over with his bike, or, somehow, I’ve woken up in an alternate fucking universe like ‘Avengers: Endgame’, but minus the infinity stones,” Taehyung hisses out, finally giving the dream he’s stuck in some form of realism with him being self-aware that it’s a fucking dream.

 

If Not-Hoseok wasn’t looking worried for Taehyung’s sanity, he is now.

 

“Bike? Coma? Avengers Endgame? What are these things that you’re speaking of?” Not-Hoseok demands, frustrated and worried.

 

That’s it.

 

Taehyung is tired of this.

 

He needs a scene change, Dream.

 

“Show me a window, right now,” Taehyung demands, already moving to leave.

 

Not-Hoseok rushes after him, and Taehyung is once again – walking, this time – ignoring those stopping to stare after him as he retraces his steps from before he supposedly electrocuted himself.

 

“Taehyung! You’re a fucking prince – even though you don’t like to be treated or called as one – you can’t just walk around dressed like this!” Not-Hoseok barks after him as Taehyung shoves open the metal doors, finally changing the scenery of his dream.

 

Natural light greets him, and the familiar heat and humidity of a summer’s day curls around him.

 

Taehyung hears gasps come from his left, but all Taehyung can focus on is the stunning horizon in front of him.

 

The sea is a pure blue, the kind you see in the warmer oceans of hotter climates, the sky itself is a stunning mix of oranges, yellows, and reds, the sun not present, but the sky is still light as if it is so.

 

Taehyung’s hands grip the marble stone wall in front of him, and leans as far as he dares to, wind blowing up at him as he stares down at the….at the riviera of stunningly white, polished, buildings made of stone, all connected by cobbled pathways and high archways of marble terraces.

 

It’s like he’s staring at a travel agent’s advertisement to vacation on a Grecian island – stunningly beautiful, and something not of this world.

 

 “It’s the Royal Prince.”

 

“Wow, he’s finally awake.”

 

“Does this mean that he’ll be at the ball?”

 

Taehyung slowly turns his head towards the whispers, stares at the small huddle of strangers dressed in vibrant colours, the cuts of the clothing almost how modern hanboks are nowadays, only theirs look airy and floaty to match the hot climate.

 

They all hightail it when they notice Taehyung staring, hurrying down the cobbled street.

 

“Please tell me that I’m not a prince,” Taehyung begs as Not-Hoseok joins him at the wall that overlooks part of a town below.

 

Not-Hoseok sighs and runs a hand through his brown hair as he gives Taehyung a very worried look that is also full of affection.

 

Now you’re sounding a bit more like yourself,” the male teases lightly. “But yes, you are still a prince. Your outlandish ways of protecting the realm still haven’t broken your grandmother’s patience to deny you of your position.”

 

Taehyung’s heart heavily thumps like a lump of concrete moving around in his chest.

 

He lost his grandmother years ago to cancer.

 

“Our Queen Regent still tolerates her grandson putting himself in suicidal counter attacks,” Not-Hoseok continues as he gently grabs Taehyung’s elbow, steering him back towards the metal doors that are still open, “but she won’t tolerate you waltzing around in bedwear.”

 

Taehyung tugs lightly, chest pulsing, as he struggles to take this in, struggling to make sense of it all.

 

Surely, coma dreams aren’t this detailed.

 

Taehyung freezes as another thought comes to mind, ignoring Not-Hoseok’s concerned call of his name.

 

What if…. What if he died?

 

What if that motherfucker somehow killed him from colliding with him?!

 

Holy shit….maybe Taehyung is dead.

 

And this is his reincarnation.

 

“Whoa, whoa, Taehyung, sit down, you’ve just lost all colouring in your skin,” Not-Hoseok rushes out, easing Taehyung down to sit on the street’s cobbled stones.

 

“I’m dead,” Taehyung wheezes out, clutching his chest. “The bastard killed me.”

 

Not-Hoseok inhales slowly, expression forcibly neutral, before he exhales slowly.

 

“Fine, I’ll play along – who killed you?” Not-Hoseok asks softly.

 

“I don’t know, someone on a bike, I thought they were in a different street, not right up my ass,” Taehyung rushes out, grabbing tightly at Not-Hoseok’s arms, startling him. “It’s possible to be killed from having a bike slam into you from behind, right?”

 

“If I knew what a bike was, I’d be able to answer that, but such a thing doesn’t exist here, Taehyung. You must’ve dreamt such a thing during your deep sleep,” Not-Hoseok reassures softly.

 

If Taehyung is dead from his world, then…..what happened to this world’s Taehyung?

 

“How did this world’s Taehyung die?” Taehyung blurts out, and – again – Not-Hoseok inhales deeply, looking like he regrets playing along now.

 

“You clearly didn’t die, Taehyung,” Not-Hoseok deadpans.

 

“How did I end up in this, ‘deep sleep’ that you all keep mentioning?” Taehyung questions instead.

 

Not-Hoseok doesn’t believe him about coming from a blatantly different world, so he’s not going to believe Taehyung when he tells him that his precious Taehyung from this world has died, and now Taehyung is living his life instead.

  

Reincarnation. Taehyung should’ve watched more animes that included that, maybe it’d help him understand it.

 

“Like I said earlier - you and your suicidal tendencies to run straight into the Void’s creatures and expecting to come out of it unscathed,” Not-Hoseok grunts out, and Taehyung makes a note that this world’s Taehyung also features his lack of self-preservation.

 

But, rewind, creatures?

 

“Define, ‘creatures’.”

 

Before Not-Hoseok can answer him, there is an almighty boom from the horizon, and Not-Hoseok darts to his feet and rushes to the wall, with Taehyung stumbling after him.

 

“For fucks sake, these attacks won’t stop,” Not-Hoseok growls out, hands fisted on the marble wall as Taehyung joins his side.

 

“You see that?” Not-Hoseok points with his finger at the sky that is still a mix of light warm tones, and Taehyung waits for whatever it is to show.

 

He doesn’t have to wait long.

 

Just like what had happened before in his first dream – or not dream, as he’s beginning to sense – the air ripples and sparks, like it’s a mosaic force field that you see in science fiction movies, as another mighty boom echoes from the sky.

 

“What is that?” Taehyung rushes out, watching the sparks of blue lightning rippling along the mosaic air.

 

“The Void,” Not-Hoseok answers in a tired tone, both of them watching as the air ripples and shouts with more echoing booms, fighting off whatever is beyond it. “It hasn’t stopped trying to breach the atmosphere barrier since the attack a few days ago, the same one that you stupidly exploded your full strength of magic at the creatures with the blind hope that it would eradicate them before they reached land.”

 

“Did it work?” Taehyung asks, becoming more and more curious about this world’s Taehyung, because, so far, they sound alike - they both jump straight into something without really playing a cautious hand.

 

Not-Hoseok cuffs the back of his head in a light slap.

 

Yep, that is something his Hoseok would’ve done too.

 

“Yes,” the male answers, begrudgingly. “But, we almost lost you because of your power surge, so don’t even think about doing it again.”

 

“Noted,” Taehyung murmurs as the sky grows angry, turning red in response to the attacks it’s blocking as more white sparks of silent blue lightning fans across the sky. He probably doesn’t even know how to use whatever this world’s Taehyung has.

 

Wait.

 

“Wait, wait, are you telling me that – as a supposed prince of this realm – I fight in a war of magic?” Taehyung rushes out, snapping his gaze to Not-Hoseok, who is still observing the sky.

 

“You’re one of the best maegees – an argument that you throw in your grandmother’s face when she tries to stop you from being on the front line.”

 

“Did you just call me a mage?” Taehyung deadpans as he gawps at the male that isn’t currently blowing Taehyung’s mind every time that he opens his mouth. “Like – never mind, the game isn’t from this world.”

 

Not-Hoseok sighs loudly at that, finally looking away from the sky as it settles back to calmer colours.

 

“I really hope this disorientation dissipates soon. You make less sense now, than you have ever done, and we’ve known each other since we were toddlers.”

 

Or I make perfect sense, and it’s you who needs to catch up,” Taehyung counters back, smiling, unable to stop feeling the ease of friendship with this world’s Hoseok.

 

Okay, he may look differently from his Hoseok, but if this is Taehyung’s life now, he should learn to embrace this Hoseok as his Hoseok, from now on.

 

“Why are you staring at me in that way?” Hoseok questions him, suspicious, as he once again lightly grabs Taehyung’s elbow to steer him back to the metal doors that are still open.

 

“I’ve decided to accept you,” Taehyung answers honestly, following the male’s lead back into the building that he’d been trying to escape earlier.

 

Hoseok lets out a tired sounding sigh as they head for the stairs, back to his room.

 

“Whatever you say, Taehyung. Whatever you say.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You’re telling me that magic exists, but cars and bikes do not?” Taehyung huffs out, sweating under his silk layers of a white shirt (no surprise) and a pair floaty royal blue pants, with plain sandals on his feet.

 

Hoseok – who isn’t at all out of breath despite the numerous hilly streets they’ve been walking up and down – just looks even more concerned at everything that is coming out of Taehyung’s mouth.

 

“How are you out of breath? You’re a guardian,” Hoseok states, confused, as they continue to trek up the cobbled streets.

 

Taehyung is still ignoring the stares that fixate on him as they walk past people going about their normal, everyday, business, but he can’t exactly block out the whispers.

 

“He almost died, I heard.”

 

“He almost shattered the Luneria barrier with his magic.”

 

“He’s a Maegee Guardian, what do you expect?”

 

“Question, well, two,” Taehyung pants out as he hurries to match Hoseok’s longer, faster, stride, looking like a toddler learning to walk for the first time alongside the male’s confident, tall, form.

 

“Go ahead,” Hoseok winces as he looks at Taehyung, bracing himself, the warm air helping in keeping Taehyung’s sweating to a polite minimum as it comes off from the ocean that they’re close to, since they had climbed down from the ‘healing facility’ in order to transverse across the town to wherever they needed to be.

 

“Why do most of these people have brown eyes, when you and I have gold?” Taehyung asks first, and squeaks when Hoseok hits his chest with the back of his hand. “What was that for?!”

 

“They are your people, Taehyung. Yours. You are their Royal Prince, soon to be King of Solaria, when you grandmother decides you’re ready for it,” Hoseok chastises him firmly, before softening his tone as his concern returns back to his expression. “And they bear no magic, so they have brown eyes. We have gold eyes because we possess the gift of maegee magic.”

 

“…right,” Taehyung says slowly, only understanding half of what he’s just been told, as he takes quick peeks at the passing faces. “I keep hearing them say that I’m a ‘guardian’, what’s that about?”

 

“I’ll answer that when there are no ears listening,” Hoseok whispers as he glances at those that pay them attention. “Your suicidal attack has been the talk for days, and now you being awake will be.”

 

Meaning, Hoseok doesn’t want it to become crystal clear that Taehyung remembers nothing of this world.

 

Taehyung nods, and continues to trek after the male through the clusters of streets and alleyways of this very Grecianesque paradise.

 

It’s a good thing that this world doesn’t have animosity towards their royals, considering that no one has bothered Taehyung on their journey to wherever Hoseok is leading him.

 

He has no idea where they’re going, but he can hazard a guess that – with him being a prince, supposedly – they’re going to wherever this world’s royal family lives.

 

Taehyung is used to seeing the royal palaces and temples dotted around Seoul, heck, he even had to go on school trips to them as a kid to learn about Korean history, so he’s curious to how this world’s royalty lives.

 

He doesn’t think it’ll be anything like Korean palaces, since the only hint of traditional Korean architecture use of wooden beams and panelling that he’s seen on some buildings so far was at the glimpse of a marketplace area they had walked above, the noise of live music, vendors shouts, and chatter from the area echoed up the hilled street they were on.

 

Soon, the cobbled streets thin out from people and buildings that appear to be either made of marble or white limestone, and the flatness ends as they meet long steps that aren’t steep, but still too many of them.

 

“Are we there yet?” Taehyung huffs out, feeling the silk stick to his body from his sweat, as he pushes the blonde strands of hair from his neck and cheeks that are trying their best to stick too, getting distracted from the view of the bright blue ocean to his left.

 

“We’re already in the royal grounds, but, of course, you don’t recognise anything, right?” Hoseok checks, and Taehyung gives him a nod as they – thankfully – breach the top of this cardio session from hell.

 

Taehyung doesn’t know what he really was expecting, to be honest, but he knew to expect white everywhere, so at least that part was accurate.

 

Taehyung waves at Hoseok to pause so that he can catch his breath at the top of the steps, leaning against the marble column - with many more on either side of him with vibrant green vines spiralling up them - as the pathway of a short bridgeway leads to the grand steps of what you’d expect to see of a palace entranceway, featuring curved railings too.

 

“Can we talk freely now?” Taehyung asks as they slowly walk along the bridgeway, pausing as the gust of warm wind becomes more noticeable as it blows through the columns, both of them staring out at the ocean, the sound of the water running beneath them, and a glance behind him shows an impressive distant cliffside waterfall too as it runs beneath the bridgeway.

 

Even the cliff itself appears to be pristine to match the palace’s status.

 

Hoseok ignores the two female individuals standing at the top of the stairs that lead into what appears to be a side entrance into the place, considering the lack of flair the front of a palace tends to have, and leans on the marble wall of the bridgeway they’re standing in, looking out at the ocean.

 

“Taehyung…while it is common for lapse of memory to happen after healing in a deep sleep, the…depth of how much you don’t remember, isn’t,” Hoseok treads carefully as Taehyung copies his posture.

 

“I almost died, I’m sure that alone gives me leeway,” Taehyung points out.

 

“True, but I need you to become more aware of when or where to speak questions that will cause mass concern to arise,” Hoseok adds gently, and Taehyung can’t help but wonder how the male is so sweat-free, despite being in black and formfitting clothing.

 

“I’ll try to become more mindful, but…I literally remember nothing, so…” Taehyung trails off with a helpless shrug.

 

He’s not this world’s Taehyung. He can’t remember what he hasn’t lived.

 

Hoseok runs his hand through his brown lengths with a heavy sigh, his golden eyes looking at Taehyung with so much concern, as well as love that presents itself in close friendships.

 

“I’ll cover for you as much as I can, until you do.”

 

Taehyung keeps his mouth shut that the male is going to be covering Taehyung for a long time as they move to approach the staircase of white and golden stone.

 

“Your Royal Highness, Sir Jung,” the knights bow at them as they step up the stairs, their uniform a little bit like Hoseok’s own (minus the long sleeves), but in golden tones as they each carry an impressive sheathed sword, judging by the gem-stoned casing, and golden chest armour.

 

Taehyung knows that he’s stiff as he hesitantly bows back, unsure of the behaviour a fucking prince uses, and is thankful when Hoseok all but hurries him past the startled females.

 

“Oh for Meeria’s sake, okay, first lesson – you’re a prince, Taehyung, meaning you don’t bow to those lower in status, others bow at you,” Hoseok rushes out as he glances over his shoulder at the two females staring back at them.

 

Taehyung freezes as the corridor they stepped up from the stairs ends, the open doors allowing Taehyung his first glimpse inside of the white palace perched on the edge of the riviera town, facing the ocean.

 

The ceiling is so high up, and so beautifully built with sculptured column and beams of marble and polished limestone with fine gold detailing, Taehyung’s mind isn’t ready to see how simple walls and doorways appear as he drags his stunned gaze around the square room that they’re standing in.

 

“This is the one of two anterooms, we came through the side entrance from the town which is the entrance townsfolk use,” Hoseok explains, and Taehyung pretends to know what the fuck that ante-word means as he trails after the male. “Guests wait here, before they’re allowed permission to be seen in the throne room through the ballroom, which is also the dining area when an event is not taking place.”

 

Okay, so this is a huge ass waiting room, got it.

 

“The main palace entrance is through that door. That entrance is also the fastest way to get down to the docks and the higher statuses residences,” Hoseok says, pointing to their left at the far double doors there as he leads Taehyung out of the waiting room, and Taehyung is left wondering what the closed doors they’ve left behind in waiting room leads to as they enter the ballroom/dining room.

 

Taehyung thought that the waiting room was impressive, but nothing prepared his brain for the main event.

 

“Holy shit,” Taehyung rushes out, his voice echoing off the lavishly decorated room, sculpted walls, marbled pillars, and a very high, very expansive, glass ceiling that is just bringing in all of the warm hues of the sky.

 

Even squinting, Taehyung is left staring up past the stained-glass walls, seeing glimpses of the upper levels as a result, and is barely able to see the true details of the iridescent glass at very top of the palace roof.

 

So, the palace was built around a giant skylight that spans the height of about seven floors, almost how he’s seen castles be built around massive courtyards.

 

Taehyung has only seen places like this online, places where western media retells its own history in the form of grand manor houses, castles, and palaces. To be standing in a real – albeit, different world – version of grandeur, Taehyung feels like a speck of dirt for even being in here.

 

“This is the ballroom where parties are held, and where you have caused more than one scene under the influence of alcohol,” Hoseok teases, still stiff because of Taehyung’s blatant reaction of awe and surprise, but slightly amused too by it.

 

“Yeah, probably true,” Taehyung says in agreement as he spins around to take in all the detailing of the golden art on the high walls that are delicately lit with perfectly placed lighting to compliment the gold, and being completely lost at what it all could mean.

 

The closed doors connecting to the ballroom are even lavish with sculptured detailing carved into to the golden doors, and shiny from meticulous cleaning.

 

Amongst all the closed doors connecting to the ballroom, the only doors that are open are the massive double set leading to the main entrance behind him that shows a more luxurious waiting room, compared to the one townsfolk use, and another set of double doors that lead to a grand stone staircase that must be the main staircase up and down to the palace, that also has an arched entrance that must lead into a corridor.

 

“I feel sorry for whoever has to clean all of this glass,” Taehyung says as he pivots on the spot, looking up at the towering glass walls that lead up towards the palace roof, trying to count the floors as he squints again.

 

“Is that my grandson’s voice that I hear?”

 

Taehyung wasn’t expecting the call.

 

Nor was he expecting the achingly familiar voice.

 

Taehyung slowly turns, and it feels like the air stills around him too as his chest pulses hard as one, very strong, air-wave comes from the staircase.

 

Before his heart is ready, he sees a face that he hasn’t seen in years appear as the elderly female climbs up the staircase from the floor below.

 

Taehyung’s heart wasn’t ready, even as his grandmother’s familiar boxy smile widens, as do her arms as she approaches them, her eyes too being the same melted gold colour.

 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” his grandmother laughs as her hands wrap around his frozen shoulders, tugging him down because her smaller height is still the same in this world as she embraces him tightly.

 

Taehyung’s throat clenches like there is a fist closed around it as he inhales her scent, her perfume of soft roses.

 

Even that is still the same.

 

Taehyung all but clings to her after that, shuddering with shaky inhales as he fights back the overwhelming urge to sob.

 

It’s not his grandmother from his world, but….it’s more than he’s had ever since she passed away, and he’s going to cherish the fact that he can embrace her, breathe in her scent, listen to her deep laughter as she ruffles the back of his hair with fondness.

 

“All it took was for you nearly dying to show me affection, huh?” she teases him, and Taehyung grows irrationally pissed at this world’s Taehyung for neglecting his grandmother.

 

If this world’s Taehyung knew just how achingly hollow he’d feel by losing someone that always taught him to be himself, despite what peers around him try to get him to do, or what his own parents wanted him to so, this world’s Taehyung would treat her with all the affection she deserves.

 

His grandmother always had his back, always.

 

“Your Majesty,” Hoseok softly greets as he approaches them as Taehyung forces himself to relax his hold on the older woman, sniffling softly, and hoping neither of them notice as he fights back the emotions swirling in his chest.

 

His grandmother’s eyes are golden, but they still hold the same look of love as she lightly tuts at seeing his glassy eyes.

 

“I hope that you’ve learnt your lesson,” she softly chastises Taehyung, poking his cheek with a manicured nail, as she parts from the embrace.

 

“Hard to say,” Taehyung answers back with a smile, his heart aching at the playful roll of her eyes.

 

Everything is so familiar with her, it hurts.

 

“Hoseok, I’m sorry that you are continuously burdened with my grandson, but please, try to keep him from trouble for a few more hours until our guests arrive,” she smiles warmly at Hoseok, whom nods his head, smiling back.

 

Taehyung gently catches her elbow before she can move to return back towards the stairs.

 

“Wait, we’re having guests?” Taehyung asks, lost, and his face shows it.

 

His grandmother’s eyes swim with concern as she glances at Hoseok. “You weren’t exaggerating when you informed me that the disorientation is severe.”

 

Taehyung glances at Hoseok’s face at that. The male must’ve reported straightaway to his grandmother after he had electrocuted himself.

 

“Despite your stubbornness to address the situation with the Luneria Realm, it is high time this petty squabbling between our realms ends, and this ball will be the first stepping stone into amicable waters,” his grandmother tells him, and Taehyung swallows at the stern tone to her voice, straightening slightly at it.

 

She may be his grandmother, but she is very clearly a Queen Regent by the easy way she’s just slipped into ‘diplomatic mode’ with her own grandson.

 

But, Taehyung learns two things in that moment – one, this world’s Taehyung was against either settling the issue with the Lune…whatever Realm, and two, both realms have been fighting for a bit.

 

“I want you on your best behaviour this time, Taehyung,” his grandmother warns, a finger poking the centre of his chest. “Hosting this event is supposed to undo the mess your tongue caused, so you will not embarrass our family name, nor this realm again, understood?”

 

Taehyung jerks his head in a sharp nod, lowkey terrified of the look in his grandmother’s gaze.

 

Yep, that hasn’t changed either. She always knew how to terrify him when he overstepped a boundary and needed to be scolded for it.

 

“As Maegee Guardian, and the Prince of Solaria, every Lunerian tonight will be watching you, waiting for you to slip and cause chaos again, to find any more fault with you. Do not give them that satisfaction, Taehyung. Prove them that they are wrong about you.”

 

Taehyung can only bow, following Hoseok’s lead, as his grandmother leaves them, her elegant clothing softly swishing with her strides.

 

Taehyung waits until his grandmother has walked through the arch hallway that sits next to the grand staircase and is able to see a glimpse of a gold doors before they’re slipped shut, before turning and grabbing a hold of Hoseok’s clothing with a desperate grip.

 

“Tae-” Hoseok starts, surprised at the sudden manhandling.

 

“Tell me everything,” Taehyung begs as he clutches at the male.

 

“Define, ‘everything’,” Hoseok sighs out as he gently strokes over the back of Taehyung’s hands that are fisting the harnesses on his chest.

 

“What the fuck did I do, who are the Lunerians, and why is this whole event so important?” Taehyung rushes out desperately.

 

Hoseok looks like he was expecting that answer, but had hoped for another, as he nods.

 

“Come on, let’s go to your personal floor. Your library will help me explain most of it anyway.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His floor – Taehyung learns – is the fourth floor of the palace, and he was indeed correct about the entire palace being built around this rectangle of glass that is one big skylight for the ballroom area.

 

He also learns that the place has no elevator, which means….

 

“I’m dying, how the hell does my grandmother do this every single day?” Taehyung huffs out after climbing the endless stairs until they reached his floor.

 

“It really isn’t that bad, Taehyung,” Hoseok snorts out as he closes the stairwell doors behind them, leaving them in a wraparound corridor that looks down onto the distant ballroom below, as well as the two guest residence floors beneath Taehyung’s that are for high status individuals, and royal guests.

 

Taehyung is just glad that he doesn’t suffer from vertigo as he stares down at the impressive view through the stained-glass windows of art that he still doesn’t understand the meaning or history of.

 

“Question, I don’t have any keys or anything, and I saw no guards out there,” Taehyung jerks his head back at where they’ve just come from as he trails after Hoseok, considering that he’s a prince, after all, shouldn’t safety be a factor? “Isn’t that a security risk?”

 

Hoseok pauses as he approaches a lone door on the right side of the wraparound corridor, staring at Taehyung with disbelief.

 

“Really, even that too?” Hoseok demands, and Taehyung really does pity his friend because he’s soon going to learn that Taehyung really is clueless about everything in this world.

 

“I told you to assume that I know nothing,” Taehyung reminds him as Hoseok turns the door handle and steps into the room with Taehyung following.

 

“You’re a guardian, your senses are worth more than a guard detail, and no one has cause to harm you either,” Hoseok sighs out as he shuts the door behind Taehyung, leaving him to forget all about his previous curiosity as he gawps around the impressive room that is exactly what the male had said earlier – a private library and study.

 

Rows upon rows of books line the walls, hiding the white stone from view and making the room feel warm and lived-in from the uses of rich wooden bookcases and furnishings, and the bay windows are dressed with drapes and cushions as reading areas, judging by the books left around.

 

“You take great pride in your collection, since it’s been long passed down in your family,” Hoseok gently explains as Taehyung wanders through the room. “I’m pretty sure you even own Lunerian texts that are dated way before the Separation happened.”

 

“Okay, let’s start with that,” Taehyung says as he turns back to face the male that has moved to sit on one of the sofas that are angled around the marble fireplace in the room.

 

“The Separation?” Hoseok checks, and Taehyung nods, coming to join him. “It’s basic history, Taehyung.”

 

“It’s history that I can’t remember, so…please, Hoseok, humour me,” Taehyung gently begs as he sits down next to the male.

 

Hoseok glances around the room, gaze searching, and Taehyung watches as the male darts up to retrieve a hemisphere that is hovering – because, right, magic exists in this world – on a pedestal.

 

“Okay, so, this is Meeria,” Hoseok begins, tone nervous and also still concerned as he meets Taehyung’s attentive gaze, as he hands Taehyung the black sphere, “this is our world, yes?”

 

Taehyung just nods, agreeing, despite not knowing that.

 

Hoseok’s finger taps the sphere and Taehyung gasps as it changes colour, the black disappearing to show the sphere split into two halves, each half a different colour.

 

“This is us, The Solaria Realm,” Hoseok says as his fingers runs over the golden half before tapping pointedly on an area, and Taehyung watches, transfixed, as the gold shimmers and dissipates to show the riviera and white dots on it, mimicking the buildings that he’s seen, he can even see the sparkle towards the end of the riviera that must be the palace’s glass roof.

 

“Solaria’s magic mainly feeds off the Maegee Current that comes from the depths of the Void, as does the Luneria Realm, but their magic mainly feeds off the Shivta Current,” Hoseok explains as he taps his finger onto the silver side of the sphere, and Taehyung frowns at how murky it is, compared to the other side.

 

“Why is it cloudy and hard to see details?” Taehyung asks, glancing up from the murky tones of green and blue.

 

“Because Luneria’s defences denies us entrance into their realm, we don’t know how it looks now,” Hoseok sighs out softly, tone light with sadness. “Originally, both of our realms were joined, allowing both currents of magic to feed all around Meeria equally.”

 

“But, it’s not no more?”

 

Hoseok shakes his head and taps at the white line that separates both halves. “This is the boundary line made by the Lunerians. It denies entrance both ways, denies either side glimpses of the other.”

 

“Why?” Taehyung asks as he taps the sphere, watching as the Luneria Realm becomes murky again.

 

“Before the Kim Dynasty came into power, the previous one felt that a class system was needed for the population,” Hoseok explains, his tone souring a little, and Taehyung watches the male’s expression as he continues, “the king, at the time, thought that there needed to be a clear distinction between those that should learn magic, and those that shouldn’t.”

 

Taehyung frowns, lost already. “You told me that those born with gold eyes are capable of magic.”

 

“They are, but in the past, all Solarians were born with either gold or silver eyes, the ability to learn both types of magic,” Hoseok confirms. “But, when you supress magic from growing, it slowly dies, and that’s what happened with most of the population of Solaria – bloodlines lost the ability to wield magic due to a class system put into place that denied them the ability to freely practise and use magic.”

 

Taehyung swallows at the sound of a cruel dictatorship, feels dirty knowing that it’s part his history in this world.

 

In a way, it’s not too dissimilar to what he knows from his world, especially in terms of rights to earning an education, the system of class deciding what little access to a quality version of it that those born in poverty face, compared to those born in privileged homes that are given the highest tier of quality.

 

“Luneria didn’t agree with the class system, the dynasty then knew that by supressing magic, it would cause an imbalance to form, and it did. Luneria formed a barrier of their own when Solaria’s king refused to stop supressing free use of magic, and thus that moment in our history was called, ‘The Separation’,” Hoseok murmurs softly, gaze moving from the sphere to the windows. “You can always see the barrier whenever you look at the horizon, no matter which part of Solaria you’re in.”

 

Taehyung slowly stands up and approaches the wide column bay windows.

 

“What am I looking for?” Taehyung asks as he stares at the horizon that hasn’t changed since he first saw it.

 

He hears the sound of Hoseok’s boots on the marble flooring as he joins Taehyung.

 

“It’s not quite the same as Meeria’s atmosphere reacting to the Void’s chaos pushing through,” Hoseok explains, and Taehyung recalls the way the sky reacted earlier, “the Lunerian boundary is a wall of shimmer, no matter the time or the weather, it shimmers, reflecting back Solaria.”

 

Taehyung thinks he can see what Hoseok is describing in the far distance if he studies the way the waves seem to still and reflect against an invisible barrier.

 

“How long has it been?” Taehyung questions, looking away from the horizon.

 

“Four centuries,” comes the unexpected reply, and Taehyung gawps at the male that is still staring out at the horizon, “and around two centuries ago, the Void began to collapse because of what the Lunerians forewarned would happen.”

 

“The Void is where all the magic comes from, right?” Taehyung checks, and Hoseok nods. “So, with Solaria messing with the balance of who can use it, it meant that the Luneria Realm functioned as normal.”

 

“Correct. The Maegee and Shivta currents of magic are supposed to flow through and around Meeria, protecting it from the Void’s raw magic as well as allow us to use it. They’re supposed to be in a constant, balanced, flow, like how trees recycle air for us,” Hoseok confirms as he lifts the hemisphere in his hands, before letting it go, once more hovering in the air between them.

 

“When Solaria shifted that balance of flow, and Luneria formed the barrier between us, shivta magic receded from Solaria – and maegee magic to probably recede from Luneria over time - it caused an imbalance to form in the Void, where the currents are believed to be born from to protect it like, they protect us against it,” Hoseok says as he taps under the base of the hemisphere, and Taehyung’s eyes widen as it’s instantly swallowed around a ball of wispy smoke.

 

“That’s the Void?” Taehyung asks, eyes on the smoke ball.

 

“On the occasions the Void has breached our barriers, all you see is endless clouds of black and grey before Meeria’s atmosphere stitches back together once we’ve fought off the Void’s creatures that are caused from the chaos of imbalanced magic.”

 

Taehyung pushes his finger through the cold wisps of smoke, watching as it shows the gold and silver sides of the hemisphere in the middle of it.

 

Hoseok wouldn’t understand if he were to say it out loud, but the only relatable connection Taehyung can make is that the world he is in is surrounded by its own space, completely enclosed, instead of spread wide, like how Taehyung knows of space to be.

 

Maybe the Void is a planet, and these clouds are its true atmosphere, instead of Meeria’s being the true one, and maybe the gold and silver currents of magic are actually representations of this planet’s sun and moon?

 

Taehyung finally understands this world’s mechanics a lot more with making that connection in his head with what he already knows of how planets and space works.

 

“Okay, so that explains the beef between the two realms, now I need to know what I did that caused my grandmother to threaten me like that,” Taehyung sighs out as he rubs his temples as they pulse with the beginnings of a slight headache.

 

Hoseok takes the hemisphere back to the pedestal he got it from, and the object resets itself back to black.

 

“So, for the last century or so, the Kim Dynasty has been trying to undo the damage caused from the previous one with the hope it would settle the imbalance by obliterating the class system and allowing free use to return,” Hoseok says as he joins Taehyung back on the sofa.

 

“Let me guess, it hasn’t worked,” Taehyung deadpans.

 

Hoseok snorts softly at his tone. “Not even a little bit. So, your grandmother has been – for the longest of time – trying to find a way to contact the current rulers in Luneria with the hope both realms can come together again and live how Meeria used to live before the Separation.”

 

“A few weeks back, the Void attacked above the Lunerian boundary line and shattered it for a small period of time during the attack,” Hoseok’s tone starts to change here, going from light to wary as he glances at Taehyung’s face. “You really don’t remember that?”

 

“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” Taehyung answers honestly, making the male wince.

 

“Okay, so…so that was the first time in recent history where…where both sides were visible to each other,” Hoseok hedges carefully, and Taehyung’s gut feeling isn’t liking how he’s sensing this going. “And since you’re a guardian, you were on the front line, and you sort of – technically – invaded the Luneria Realm as a result.”

 

Yep, Taehyung’s gut is clenching hard as he closes his eyes and takes a slow inhale.

 

“Go on, I’ll ask about the guardian thing in a bit,” Taehyung breathes out.

 

“If I can remember it correctly, your exact words to the Lunerian Guardian were, ‘hey asshole, maybe if you didn’t shut yourselves away, you’d know how bad shit is now and I don’t have to divebomb into your realm as a result to tell you’.”

 

Taehyung’s temples pulse harder.

 

“Great,” Taehyung weakly says, embarrassed for this world’s Taehyung.

 

“Needless to say, you caused a….rocky first impression with the Lunerian population with that comment when you insulted their guardian,” Hoseok weakly says too. “But, a good thing came from it – your grandmother finally got the chance to contact the Jeon Dynasty, the current realm rulers of Luneria.”

 

“Please tell me it was because of the Void fucking up, and not my mouth.”

 

“Both?” Hoseok hesitantly answers with, and Taehyung sends the male a look that makes Hoseok laugh at.

 

“Okay, so what does a guar-”

 

A knock at the door makes both of them turn their heads, and Taehyung blinks at the tall male huddled at the door as he peers in, his question put on hold - again.

 

“Sirs, it’s nearing time for you to begin readying for the arrival of guests,” he says softly, and Taehyung notes that he doesn’t have gold eyes, and he’s dressed in a plain, soft, uniform of pants and a long sleeved shirt that is loose fitting, and also notes that he didn’t address him as others have done.

 

“This is Minho, he’s one of your favourites,” Hoseok teases as he stands, and Taehyung watches as Minho rolls his eyes at the comment as he pushes the door open.

 

“Be sure to dress vibrantly, Hoseok,” Minho teases back, his gaze quick as it flicks over Hoseok’s current combat attire, as Taehyung follows after the leaving male.

 

“Minho will help you dress for the ball. Your grandmother will skin you alive if you don’t dress like a prince,” Hoseok warns him as he pats Minho’s shoulder, the touch friendly, and Taehyung is beginning to understand more and more of this world’s Taehyung.

 

“Not that it will matter, he’s never acted like a prince - just look at what he did to his hair,” Minho snorts good-naturedly as Taehyung shuts the door behind him, standing in the wraparound corridor with them.

 

“Oh, be gentle with him – he’s still recovering, so if he says anything loopy, just play along,” Hoseok plants the seed of his story of disorientation – even if the male thinks it is, Taehyung knows overwise - and Taehyung could kiss the male for it, since he was starting to panic with how he should behave and talk around Minho.

 

Minho nods, and Taehyung swallows at the masked look of worried fondness that he sees in those brown eyes.

 

“I’ll see you at the ball, Taehyung. Please, for the love of Meeria, do not insult the Prince of Luneria again,” Hoseok warns lightly as he leaves them, heading for the doors that lead to the staircase.

 

“What do you mean – again?” Taehyung blurts out, anxiety sky rocketing at hearing that.

 

Once the doors shut behind the male who doesn’t bother answering him, Taehyung glances at Minho, who is looking highly amused.

 

“What?” Taehyung questions, lost.

 

“I think the majority of the guests tonight are going to be anticipating seeing you two go at it again. The whispers of your first interaction have become very exaggerated,” Minho chuckles lightly as he leads the way down the corridor, past the stairwell doors, and to the left side of the wraparound corridor where he opens the first door of three on this side of the corridor.

 

Taehyung winces at that as he enters the room after the male.

 

“I think today was the wrong day to wake up,” he grumbles under his breath as Minho shuts the door after him.

 

“You always bounce back fast after a deep sleep,” Minho reassures him as he waves for Taehyung to stand on the slightly raised floor in the middle of the lavishly built dressing room.

 

Taehyung has never seen so many delicate, extravagant, clothing hanging in one space.

 

He’s never been in a designer store before, but he’s seen them from the outside, seen how luxury breathes and hangs.

 

“This is my closet?” Taehyung asks as he ignores the area that he was waved to go stand on, and instead cautiously inspects the rows of silks, cottons, and metals – all various tones of warmth - golds, creams, reds, warm browns, and crisp white.

 

“This is your royal closet, yes. Your personal one is in your bedroom,” Minho answers simply, not at all thrown by Taehyung’s question. “Your grandmother ordered you some outfits for the ball, ones that represent the current trends. She may have taken your recent rebellion,” Minho stares pointedly at Taehyung’s blonde hair, “as a challenge to correct by ordering you a new closet.”

 

Taehyung watches as Minho moves around the room with more familiarity than Taehyung is feeling, and grows silently alarmed as he stares at the outfits the male hangs up on a lone railing near the raised podium he was meant to be standing on.

 

Outfits that feature a theme – sheerness.

 

“She expects me to waltz outside in this,” Taehyung deadpans, tone high, as he holds up the hanger that is literally a piece of see-through material that would wrap around his waist, and split high up where a denser material would cover his privates.

 

“Skin is this season’s trend,” Minho says simply, taking the hanger from Taehyung’s tight grip to hold it against Taehyung’s legs. “It would elongate your legs, and the black silk mesh would just make the gold tones in your skin pop.”

 

Taehyung politely pushes it away. “I’d rather not walk around all night wondering if my dick is peeking through.”

 

Minho snorts at his response, further proving to that voice at the back of Taehyung’s head that the relationship this world’s Taehyung has with those close to him – friends, servants, general workers – are used to his candid, blunt, tongue.

 

“Personally, I think your grandmother is hoping that these outfits will impress the Lunerian Prince and his family,” Minho says as he neatens the chosen outfits that he’s hung up for Taehyung to assess.

 

“Didn’t I insult him, or something? Why would she hope a bit of leg will woo this prince?”

 

Minho pauses from neatening the clothes, and blinks at Taehyung at that.

 

“You…huh…it really is strong this time,” the tall male says as he observes Taehyung’s form that is no doubt showing off every hint of the confusion that he’s been feeling since he woke up.

 

“Yeah, it really is,” Taehyung lies, remembering Hoseok’s cautious words from earlier.

 

“Well, in order for both realms to come together again with promise of stability, a marriage should happen, and you are the royal heir of the Kim Dynasty, so that responsibility falls upon you to fulfil.”

 

Taehyung folds his arms, gaze narrowed. “You’re telling me that my grandmother is trying to arrange a marriage for me in order to get a long-term foot into Luneria.”

 

“In a way, yes?” Minho confirms. “Solaria was the one to make the mistakes in the past, so it’s up to Solaria to make the effort to prove to Luneria that change is here to stay.”

 

“By marrying into the family,” Taehyung says, and Minho nods. “How come…..how come she is Queen Regent? Where are my parents?”

 

Minho looks completely taken aback by his question, the colouring of his skin paling slightly, and that alone tells Taehyung what the answer is.

 

“Y-your mother died through complications of her deteriorating control of shivta magic, and your father died from his injuries in protecting the realm from a brutal explosive attack from the Void when you were still a child,” Minho gently tells Taehyung, brown eyes full of concern and tenderness.

 

“Ah…..right,” Taehyung says quietly, looking down at the polished flooring.

 

So, his parents weren’t currently part of this world, which makes it easier for Taehyung, if he’s honest.

 

His current relationship with his parents isn’t as smooth has it used to be, now that his mandatory army service is complete and he’s growing older without showing signs of making himself more ‘desirable’ to marriage meetings by pretending that he’s suddenly heterosexual.

 

So, he’s glad that he won’t have to face them here. It’s already hard with seeing his grandmother again, after all.

 

Taehyung takes a quiet breath, and looks up at the concerned male. “Not to critique my grandmother’s attempts for matching me with a stranger, but I’d rather pick something out for myself.”

 

Minho’s head jerks in a nod, body language torn with being uncomfortable from the topic of informing Taehyung of his deceased parents, and also following through with instructions that his grandmother must’ve given him.

 

Taehyung catches a glimpse of himself in the mirrors behind him, and knows one thing the male can help him with.

 

“Do we have time to undo this mess?” Taehyung asks, gesturing to his blonde lengths, and dark roots.

 

Minho carefully eyes him at that. “When you say, ‘undo’, do you mean-”

 

“My act of rebellion has come to its end,” Taehyung quickly cuts over the male. “It’s time for me to go back to my natural colour.”

 

Minho raises an eyebrow at that, but dutifully nods. “We have time. I can easily prepare the dye.”

 

Taehyung nods, feeling back out of his depth with that choice made, watching as Minho moves towards the door.

 

“Search for potential outfits, I’ll be back with the dye sharply,” Minho directs as he opens the door.

 

Taehyung nods, but doesn’t step a foot off the small podium thing that he’s on until it’s been a solid minute of him being alone in the room.

 

Staring at the room, Taehyung inhales nervously, almost feeling like the walls themselves are judging him, that they know he isn’t the one they’ve seen before.

 

Slowly, Taehyung walks around the room, taking in the racks of clothing that can be worn in feminine and masculine styles (something Taehyung is beginning to suspect is a norm in this world considering his grandmother wants him wearing floating lengths of sheer material), the alcoves that are full of jewellery – gold, of course – and the rows of shoes ranging from flats that are plain, to lavishly jewelled boots that seem to be statement pieces rather than practical footwear.

 

When Taehyung isn’t wearing his work attire of his random assortment of shirts and plain slack trousers, he’s mainly in sweats because he doesn’t socialise as much nowadays, so being faced with so many options to glam up as one should do at a ball, Taehyung hasn’t got a clue where to start.

 

He does know one thing, he’s not wearing any of the floor-length, high slit, skirts on offer. He rather not broadcast his manhood to the entire population due to the sheer fabric that would require a lack of underwear to cover his modesty.

 

By the time Minho arrives with a bowl of brown dye that Taehyung hopes will cover the bleached hair on his head, Taehyung has produced a very small pile of outfits.

 

“The season isn’t cold for scarfs?” Minho states in a questioning tone as he stares at the few silk scarfs Taehyung has set aside.

 

“They’re thin, so they can be used as accessories instead,” Taehyung says and quickly demonstrates so by tying one of the cream silk scarfs around his neck with the bow off to the side.

 

Minho tilts his head. “Huh. That looks….surprisingly okay.”

 

It was one of Taehyung’s easy hacks to look somewhat stylish, and he hides his smile to himself as he unties it and follows the male into the adjoining room where a vanity table is located and a huge mirror fixed on the wall in front of it.

 

Sitting at the mirror, Taehyung watches the blonde lengths slowly disappear as Minho hums to himself as he saturates Taehyung’s hair with the brown dye.

 

“This will take some minutes, so while you’re here, we need to decide on your presentation of status – you will need to honour your title of being a prince, as well as your role of being a magee guardian,” Minho says as he carefully puts the bowl and brush onto the desk in front of them, not a drop threatening to spill out onto the marble top, as he peels off the black gloves he was wearing.

 

That’s one time too many now that he’s been lumped with the ‘guardian’ card, and Taehyung needs to know what the fuck that means.

 

“What’s a guard-” Taehyung begins, but is cut off as a familiar boom rattles through the air, shaking the palace slightly from the force of its call.

 

They both automatically look to their lefts where the big window of the small room showcases the view of the town.

 

“The Void must know about the ball tonight, it’s been threatening to break the realm’s barriers all damn day,” Minho grunts out as another almighty boom cracks high above them.

 

Taehyung winces at the sound, looking up at the ceiling and expecting to see it cracking open any second.

 

When it doesn’t, he meets Minho’s curious gaze in their reflections. “What?”

 

“I wonder…” Minho murmurs softly, staring at Taehyung with curiosity, making Taehyung’s shoulders curl slightly at the look.

 

“You wonder?”

 

“I wonder if this is the Void’s voice of celebration, or if it’s its voice of rebellion,” Minho explains his gaze shifts to Taehyung’s hair.

 

Taehyung flinches again when another boom comes.

 

Taehyung hopes it’s the former, rather than the latter, because one thing is clear – he’s a fighter, and Taehyung needs all fighting to stay far away from him until he learns more of this world and its expectations of him.

 

Taehyung electrocuted himself earlier because he didn’t know what the fuck his body was responding with, that alone tells him he needs to stay far away from conflict.

 

Otherwise, he’s going to be getting a whole lot more suspicious looks.

 

“Let’s get you bathed, we can decide your presentations after I see what you’ve picked out,” Minho says as he pats Taehyung’s back for him to stand up and follow.

 

Taehyung does so at a slower pace, not wanting any of the dye on his hair to drop onto the immaculate marble flooring as they leave the dressing room, and turn left, towards the front of the wraparound corridor, where a lone door sits in the middle of stretch of wall.

 

“Have you had anything to eat since waking up?” Minho questions as he opens the door for Taehyung, waving him into the room.

 

Taehyung’s response dies on his tongue as he freezes in the mini foyer area he’s just stepped into.

 

“Taehyung?”

 

Taehyung hurries through the partially opened wooden doors that lie ahead, past the cluster of stiff-looking sofas, and gawps even more when he sees the bedroom that is supposedly his.

 

The walls are a very muted, pale, grey – which is surprising, considering the amount of gold he’s seen in this place – with thin gold detailing running over the walls in intricate swirls and patterns, with a very beautiful coal circular firepit fixed in the centre of the room.

 

The balcony windows are covered with floor-to-ceiling heavy drapes of gold silk that still manage to sway slightly from the breeze coming in from the ocean.

 

And the four-poster bed almost takes up the entire right-side of the wide room, each stone column spiralled and laced with gold that glow as light sources, the pillows and duvet the same muted grey that is on the walls.

 

And to his left, stands another vanity area, completed with an impressive set of wardrobes, before a lone door sits amongst the heavy pieces of furniture.

 

“What’s wrong?” Minho questions as he steps beside Taehyung.

 

“It’s very bare,” Taehyung blurts out, his mind casting back to his dinky little apartment in Seoul, one that every inch of space is used.

 

“Bare?” Minho repeats, confused.

 

“And very…clean,” Taehyung continues as he looks at how….sterile, almost, the rooms look, compared to the lived-in feeling his apartment has.

 

“Clean?” Minho echoes.

 

Taehyung hurries for the lone door, and is still surprised to see the lavish bathroom that greets him, with the chandelier lighting reflecting off the white marbled walls countertops.

 

“And white,” Taehyung finishes as he catches sight of himself in the mirror ahead of the door, at his stunned expression and his dyed hair still saturated with dye.

 

“….right.”

 

Taehyung watches Minho’s dumbfounded stare in the reflection, watches as the male moves to leave.

 

“I’ll get the kitchen staff to prepare you a light bite to eat. Be sure to scrub yourself clean,” Minho says, dismissing himself, and Taehyung turns fully to watch those doors that separate his bedroom and small foyer area close behind the tall male.

 

Taehyung turns back to the bathroom, to his reflection, and feels the walls judging him once more as he tries to adjust to the blatant wealth hitting him from all directions.

 

He’s not used to this. He not used to any of this – being seen to by a personal assistant (Taehyung is not going to call the male his servant), having such access to a lavish lifestyle, or having that expectation of him to showcase such life.

 

Taehyung should’ve watched more history dramas, maybe that would’ve helped him in knowing the behaviour a fucking prince has.

 

Instead, Taehyung – a regular male, in his late twenties – is currently standing in a bathroom of a palace that his family owns, in a realm that his family rules, in a world that doesn’t exist anywhere near the one of his average life back on Earth.

 

Taehyung’s hands shake as he hurries towards the sink and splashes cold water on his face, and accidently causes some of the dye to run from around his hairline as a result.

 

He’s bullshitted himself out of some precarious situations in his life.

 

Taehyung isn’t so sure he can bullshit his way out of this one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“This isn’t what a prince wears,” Minho deadpans, two hours later, as they stand in the dressing room.

 

Taehyung flicks out the brown length of hair that is in his eyes as he looks up at the standing male with folded arms, as Taehyung continues to wriggle his way into the pair of trousers that should be on a couture runway, and not being rammed up his hips.

 

“You said I need to present myself in a way that goes against the other higher statuses attending the ball – this is simple, elegant, and different,” Taehyung counters as he succeeds in tugging up the heavy-looking, borderline rigid, fabric of the high-waisted trousers, the thick golden belt of fabric that synchs in his waist nicely also compliments his lean frame and long legs.

 

Taehyung runs his palms over the fabric covering his thighs, at how it hugs his legs, accentuating them, instead of making him look poorly dressed.

 

He figured that since the overall colour is gold, he may as well wear a huge chunk of it, and break it up with white on his upper half in the form of the deep v-cut shirt that he’s now tucking neatly into the wide belted band of the trousers that sits snuggly around his waist.

 

“Princes are supposed to dress up, not dress….simply,” Minho counters, stress lines around his young eyes.

 

This prince is,” Taehyung counters back, not looking at him, his tone firm on the decision since he’s tried on enough clothes in the past hour and half, and he’s had enough, as he carefully rights the jewels that are sewn onto the middle part of the wide belted area of the trousers.

 

“Your grandmother wants you to appeal to the Lunerians, not make them doubt you even more by your lacklustre attire. We don’t want them to think you are snubbing them.”

 

Taehyung inhales deeply as he straightens, rolling up his shirt’s sleeves to his elbows, ignoring the cringing that happens as a result from Minho.

 

“Maybe this will appeal to them more – normality,” Taehyung states as he meets the male’s gaze. “Not everything needs to be glitz and glam, Minho. I’m sure the ball itself will steal the show.”

 

“You’re a prince, Taehyung. By default, you are glitz and glam,” Minho grumbles as Taehyung steps into a pair of muted gold flats. “We still have your mask and make-up to help us with that.”

 

Taehyung looks at himself in the mirrors behind, taking in how elegant he looks, whilst also retaining the modernness he knows from his world.

 

He’ll wear a mask, and wear whatever make-up Minho desires for him to wear, but Taehyung needs to be comfortable in his own clothing, since he isn’t feeling comfortable in his own skin.

 

He needs this small grasp of comfort, of familiarity, even if it comes in the form of him never owning this sort of wardrobe in his life.

 

Before Taehyung knows it, his dolled-up expression is blinking back at him in the mirrors of the dressing room, his transformation into a prince attending a ball, complete.

 

The gold metal is startling cold against his cheekbones and his temples, as it masks his upper face, almost how a masquerade mask would do so, its metal frame not at all as delicate as it appears as it hides his nose, cheeks, and forehead.

 

It’s fixed with a brown ribbon tie at the back of his head, hidden underneath the loose waves Minho styled in to Taehyung’s hair, making it a lot thicker and stylish than how it normally looks, tousled from his face.

 

“Why the mask, anyway?” Taehyung questions as Minho sprays his hair, setting the style, “aren’t I known?”

 

“The mask reflects your status as a Guardian of Maegee,” Minho tuts with a roll of his eyes, “others will wear masks, but they won’t be of the same calibre as your own. You will see a lot of forgery of status, wealth, magic, at the ball. Not everyone attending is equal in wealth, so you will see the usual displays of pretence.”

 

Taehyung’s mask thankfully hides the hard frowning he’s doing as he watches the male in the reflection.

 

“The whole ball reeks of pretence,” Taehyung states bluntly, finding the male’s words contradictory.

 

“But you aren’t one of those pretending, Taehyung. You own your status.”

 

Taehyung keeps his mouth shut at that, because he’s very much pretending to be someone he isn’t.

 

“Right, let’s get you down there. The ball has been underway, and it needs your presence,” Minho claps his hands, posture straightening, even as he gives Taehyung’s outfit one more baleful look.

 

He can’t hear any music in the dressing room, but as soon as they step out onto the corridor, Taehyung can not only hear the distant sound of it from below, but also feel vague, distant, ripples in the air greet him, the sensation almost familiar to the ones he woke up to earlier.

 

“Ah, there you are, I was on my way to fetch you-you changed your hair?” Hoseok’s voice calls as the male pauses in the open doorway that connects to the staircase.

 

“Didn’t I tell you to dress vibrantly?” Minho teases as Taehyung stares at the attire his friend is wearing.

 

Hoseok glances down at his outfit of black silk shirt that has an entire sleeve missing, showing off the gold and blue body painted bands on the male’s toned bicep and forearm, before being tucked into the waistband of combat trousers that have a more tailored cut to them, framing Hoseok’s lower body, instead of masking it.

 

“I’m a warrior, there is nothing wrong with my attire that reflects it,” Hoseok sniffs as he meets their gazes as they join him on the staircase landing, the doors of Taehyung’s floor shutting silently behind them.

 

“Well, enjoy yourselves – Taehyung, please don’t start a war with the Lunerian prince – and I’ll see you around downstairs,” Minho says as he waves them a goodbye, heading away from the staircase, and towards the left wall where a hidden door pushes open at the touch of the male’s hand.

 

Taehyung catches his mouth from dropping in surprise at the secret entrance that all personnel must use, and meets Hoseok’s gaze that is slowly running up and down his form.

 

“Do I pass?” Taehyung asks, nudging the other with his shoulder.

 

“Your grandmother is going to be overjoyed you got rid of the blonde. She hated it on you, said it took the beauty away from your eyes,” Hoseok says, slowly nodding his approval as his gaze falls to his clothing, “not so sure she’ll approve of your outfit, though.”

 

“She can’t have my hair and clothing the way she likes it,” Taehyung says, moving towards the stairs with Hoseok in step alongside him.

 

“Spoken like the spoilt grandson that you are,” Hoseok teases with a smile, and Taehyung can’t help but smile back, finding himself relax around the familiar male.

 

“I need a quick two-minute lesson of what to expect down there,” Taehyung whispers as they slowly make their way down the staircase, leaving his floor behind.

 

Hoseok sighs softly. “Still nothing coming back?”

 

Taehyung lightly shakes his head, conscious of the mask on his face and not wanting to dislodge it.

 

“It’s a ball of celebration, so you’re expected to mingle, make friends – Lunerian friends, especially – and to show that you’re for this merge of realms,” Hoseok rattles off quickly in a hushed tone, stepping closer to Taehyung to ensure their voices don’t carry anywhere but between each other.

 

“I need to know what my job is – besides being the reluctant prince,” Taehyung tacks on, eager to know what being a supposed guardian means.

 

Hoseok actually pauses on the stairs, looking at Taehyung with concern in the slightly sultry make-up dusting his eyes that accentuate the gold in them.

 

“You…you’re a Maegee Guardian, Taehyung,” Hoseok states slowly. “You protect the realm.”

 

“So, why aren’t you called that? You called yourself a, ‘warrior’ earlier.”

 

Hoseok sends a frantic look up and below them, even peeking over the handrailing to make sure they’re completely alone, before he gives Taehyung his full attention.

 

“Each realm is protected by an individual that possesses the strongest current and form of magic, and since there are two types of magic, that means there are always two guardians present,” Hoseok explains, speaking fast, but clearly, as Taehyung fixates on every word he hears. “When one dies, a new one is born. Only two guardians can be present at a time.”

 

“Minho said my mask represents my status as a Guardian of Maegee,” Taehyung says slowly, and Hoseok nods. “That means I…I have a lot of magic?”

 

“How else do you think you almost died?” Hoseok mumbles, beginning their descent again. “You used your full range of your dominant elemental magic to counter against the Void’s creatures that got too close to the riviera, which was lightning.”

 

“The same thing that exploded out of me in the healing place,” Taehyung murmurs, swallowing thickly, mouth and throat dry from the sudden on slaughter of nerves of what he’s learning of himself – and the expectation connected to it.

 

“Lightning is your strongest, most used, elemental. It’s become second nature of you to use it now because you favour it so,” Hoseok explains fondly. “The downfall of that, is that you sometimes forget its strength when you are compromised.”

 

“Hence the shock,” Taehyung deadpans, making Hoseok chuckle.

 

“Yes. Normally, your own magic doesn’t harm you, but you’re a guardian, so you sometimes are unlucky in actually being able to be harmed by your own magic, if you’re not careful.”

 

“You have water magic, right?”

 

Hoseok nods as they bypass the floor below Taehyung’s.

 

“I’m a water maegee, and also a skilled warrior of your guard,” Hoseok adds the latter part, and Taehyung is grateful for the extra information as he builds a clearer image in his mind of this world.

 

“So, if I’m the Guardian of Maegee, what do you call Luneria’s guardian?” Taehyung questions quietly as they get closer to the music, and the sounds of laughter.

 

“He’s the Guardian of Shivta, the magic to transform into another form,” Hoseok explains, but frowns slightly. “I’m not sure of the form he can transform into, but if the whispers I’ve been hearing from the meeting a few days ago with your grandmother, his shivta form is something even his realm hadn’t seen happen for the longest of times.”

 

“That sounds ominous,” Taehyung gulps, remembering that this world’s Taehyung has also offended said guardian in the past.

 

“In a way, I hope they’re not true. I tremble to think of the elemental magic that he possesses in order to harness such a form,” Hoseok breathes out, and Taehyung is glad to see the other male looking nervous about it too.

 

“I’m usually your wingman for these types of events, so I can stay close,” Hoseok shares with him as they approach the landing that will take them out into the ballroom.

 

Taehyung sends the male a relieved look from behind his mask. “Thank you, Hoseok.”

 

Hoseok smiles, and rubs Taehyung’s shoulder. “You’re my friend before you’re my boss and prince, and I rather not see you drown out there because you’re still recovering coming out of deep sleep. I’ll help you stay afloat.”

 

Taehyung hopes his smile isn’t wobbly as it feels as he sends his friend a touched smile, before he faces the open doorway that shows the party in full swing.

 

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Taehyung breathes out, spine straightening, as they step off the staircase.

 

Hoseok’s hand lightly ghosts over his lower back in silent support as they step into the grand room that is a mix of vibrant colours that symbolise Solaria, and the cooler, darker, tones and colours that must represent Luneria.

 

Taehyung instantly feels the party’s attention as soon as he steps over the threshold of the doors behind him, and wishes that his mask covered the entirety of his face as he tries not to make direct eye contact with those around him that wear the colours of gold in the form of clothing, body paint, jewels, and even glitter, as he smiles back at their warm greetings and well wishes for his improved health.

 

“No one is mixing yet,” Hoseok whispers in his ear, and Taehyung knows what the male is referring to, because it’s clear that there is an unspoken divide in the room – one side Solarian guests, the other, Lunerian.

 

Taehyung takes the glass of whatever it is that Hoseok hands him, and takes a tentative sip of it, needing something to wet his parched mouth and throat as he masks the nerves hitting him hard in his gut and heart with every passing second of being amidst the crowd.

 

It tastes like wine, and Taehyung hides his distaste instantly. He was never a wine drinker, more a cocktail drinker.

 

“If I make the first move, it’ll look like I’m playing nice, yes?” Taehyung whispers over the rim of the glass, and hears Hoseok’s answering hum against his ear, even as the light music continues to roll through the room, along with the buzz of conversations.

 

Taehyung takes a deep breath in, and begins edging near where the divide sits in the room.

 

His movement doesn’t go unnoticed as Taehyung moves, his eyes scanning for someone of the other side of the divided line to make conversation with.

 

The sensation of waves rippling in the air that he’s been feeling since he got closer and inside the room seem to dim in comparison to a lone wave that ripples with strength as his gaze automatically fixates on the back of one male that is standing amongst a small crowd of Lunerians within this larger crowd of bodies.

 

“Tae-” Hoseok’s call of his name gets masked by the music as it hits a soft crescendo as Taehyung boldly steps towards the back of a male that is dressed in black fitted trousers, and a black, sheer, shirt, a wide silver belt around his waist too, allowing Taehyung the view of the strong posture the male holds.

 

Before Taehyung can even get his mouth open to greet the stranger that the strong rippling wave seems to be coming from, the male is turning, almost as if he’s sensed the approach, and Taehyung’s steps falter as he comes face-to-face with a mask made of silver and crystals, the only open part of the mask being the eye area where strikingly silver eyes stare back at him.

 

Taehyung wonders if the music slowing is due to the pounding of his heart as his gut instinctively reacts to the silent intensity of strength that is present in those silver eyes, feeling the intimidation deep in his core, or if the music has indeed slowed as more and more people fixate on them.

 

“Almost didn’t recognise you without the yellow mess on your head,” the male’s voice is deep, accented in a way that Taehyung hasn’t heard around him during his brief time outside in the town streets, and muffled due to the sharp rows of teeth covering the mouth area of his mask.

 

Taehyung’s heart jerks at such violent presentation on the mask at seeing the teeth, as if they’re bared at him, and then his entire body jerks as he realises the blatant insult the stranger has just given him about his previous hair colour.

 

Taehyung feels his chest pulse in a familiar way it did earlier as he narrows his gaze on the rude male.

 

“You must be unrecognisable yourself, since I have no clue who you are,” Taehyung retorts with, watching as those silver orbs sharpen on him, as he hears Hoseok groan helplessly beside him.

 

“I apologize, Your Highness. Prince Taehyung is still recovering from his accident,” Hoseok immediately steps in and does damage control, bowing at the masked male.

 

Taehyung is a second too late to realise what Hoseok means as the masked figure waves his hand slightly that it isn’t necessary for Hoseok to bow at him.

 

Oh. So, the Lunerian Prince can be civil towards Hoseok, but not to Taehyung?

 

Noted.

 

“We felt the surge on our side, so while I’m glad to see that the prince has indeed recovered, it appears that his lack of tact has not,” the masked stranger continues with the insults, and Taehyung can’t help but feel the coil of indignation rush through him, forcing his posture to straighten to his full height instead of the slightly hunched one he had been sporting to minimise attention to himself.

 

“At least I have an excuse to be rude, what is yours?” Taehyung bites out, that feeling in his chest warming more with awareness.

 

“And what was your excuse to be rude when we first met?” the male asks, masked face tilting slightly, his tone not revealing anything behind the mask, his deep brown hair slicked from the mask and not moving an inch with his head movements.

 

“Ah, Taehyung!” his grandmother’s voice wisely makes its appearance, saving the Lunerian prince from a tongue lashing, as she parts through the crowd with a beaming smile, and a very extravagant gold gown that makes her look radiant.

 

It chokes him up a little.

 

“Ah, I see you and Jungkook have met once again,” his grandmother continues as she smiles at the masked male in front of Taehyung, and Taehyung watches as the masked male bows in respect at his grandmother, showing that he does indeed own manners as he greets his grandmother.

 

“I’m relieved to see Prince Taehyung looking well after his daring act, one we felt through the barrier in Luneria,” Jungkook speaks well, clearly used to speaking articulately that Taehyung can’t help but burn with silent envy since he currently lacks that skill to do so.

 

“Yes, his daring act may have went a tad too far,” his grandmother says, her gaze silently rebuking him, “but, I’m relieved that you two have managed to meet once more, before Taehyung departs for Luneria with you.”

 

Taehyung’s neck jerks as he snaps his gaze back to his grandmother at hearing that, and Hoseok nudges him in the ribs before Taehyung can open his mouth.

 

Instead, he clears his throat, and says through a forced smile, “I can’t wait to see Luneria, for it has been too long.”

 

Taehyung cringes inwardly at how unalike himself he sounds trying to speak so articulately.

 

The silver eyes behind the mask fixate back onto Taehyung. “I’m sure the small glimpse you had of it has filled you with curiosity.”

 

Taehyung chews on his tongue at the polite, but not at all casual, reminder that this world’s Taehyung divebombed over into their realm at one point.

 

“We’re all filled with curiosity for the realms to come one, once again,” Taehyung’s grandmother saves him, her grin blinding as she gently places her hand onto the masked male’s elbow, “now, where are your parents? We have much to discuss.”

 

Taehyung doesn’t even realise that his hand is tightly squeezing around the stem of his glass until he catches a glimpse of it as he watches the masked male lead his grandmother into the crowd of Lunerians.

 

“Well…that went….smooth,” Hoseok comments, drawing Taehyung’s attention to him.

 

“I know part of his attitude is in response to how I treated him in the past, but still, I didn’t even get the chance to say hello to him before he openly insulted me!” Taehyung calmly hisses through the fake smile he’s wearing as Hoseok leads him towards the sides, where a line of tables stand with various plates of food and drinks.

 

Hoseok orders them a small section of the food, and the helpers behind the table work on plating it as Hoseok turns his attention back to Taehyung.

 

“Just smile and try not to explode on him, yeah?” Hoseok chuckles, trying to get him to relax. “But, your grandmother is correct – you are going to Luneria after this ball so that you and the prince can bond, and familiarise yourselves with fighting side-by-side.”

 

“Why would I be fighting with him?” Taehyung balks, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the general direction the masked prince is in.

 

“Because he’s Luneria’s guardian, that is why.”

 

Taehyung’s blood chills in his veins as he slowly looks back at Hoseok’s calm, amused, smirking expression.

 

“He’s the…. you know what, I should’ve just stayed asleep and missed all of this.”

 

Hoseok laughs at hearing that, taking the two plates from the helper, and handing Taehyung one.

 

“Welcome to the lifestyles of the rich and famous,” Hoseok teases as he takes a bite of one of the bitesize portions of food.

 

“You just quoted a really good song and you don’t even know it,” Taehyung sighs against his own bite of food, before strengthening his spine to not look like he’s a second from having a mental breakdown from not knowing about anything around him.

 

Standing amongst the partygoers, smiling and greeting faces he doesn’t know, but they know him, Taehyung is actually hoping that when he retires for the night and fall asleep, he’ll wake up in hospital and that this really was a vivid coma dream.

 

Because, what he’s had a taste of this world so far, Taehyung isn’t going to last long before doing or saying something that will cause the Luneria realm to shut its doors, once more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Just the male that I’ve been looking for.”

 

Namjoon turns at hearing the Queen Regent’s voice approaching him from where he stands off to the sides, hidden from view, observing the party.

 

Namjoon bows, and the elderly female softly chastises him for it as she comes to lean against the wall with him, a long sigh leaving her lips.

 

“I’ve been observing Taehyung, as you requested,” Namjoon tells her, watching the way Taehyung’s grandmother lounges against the cool wall at their backs.

 

“I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours,” she says with a smile, and despite Namjoon being the taller one, he feels like he’s a kid again whenever she smiles like that, back when Taehyung’s parents were King and Queen, and she would play with Taehyung, Namjoon, and Hoseok in the palace gardens.

 

Namjoon’s gaze sweeps over heads until they land on a now brunette mop of hair, standing beside a blacked-haired male that has been Taehyung’s shadow all night.

 

But, Hoseok always has been Taehyung’s shadow, always at his back, ready to protect Taehyung, despite the differences in their magical strength.

 

“Hoseok has been even more attentive than he normally is,” Namjoon begins quietly, aware of passing ears that can pick up their conversation, even from this distance at the sides of the ballroom.

 

“He has, but Taehyung has just woken up today,” Taehyung’s grandmother hums.

 

Namjoon watches the way Hoseok’s profile reacts with every passing body that nears Taehyung’s form, at the way the warrior displays his body to prevent anyone from daring to approach them.

 

“This time is different, compared to the past times Taehyung has had a prolonged deep sleep,” Namjoon continues softly. “It’s like Hoseok is…shielding, Taehyung.”

 

“Hoseok informed me that Taehyung’s disorientation is particularly bad this time, but I think you’d agree with me when I say that my grandson is not the same grandson that exploded all of his magic at the Void,” she murmurs as she lightly tucks her hand into the crook of Namjoon’s elbow, and Namjoon begins to lead the Queen Regent along the sides of the walls, heading for the archway that sits next to the staircase that leads up to the residential floors, and to the lower floor where knights and servants reside and train.

 

Walking through the archway and into the anteroom, both of them wait for the knights monitoring the throne room to open up the doors for them, before Namjoon escorts the elderly female inside.

 

Even at night, the throne room is grand as the pillars holding up the high dome glass ceiling lead all the way up to the stone steps where the golden throne of Solaria stands.

 

The doors click shut behind them, the sound echoing in the vast, open, space of the room, as Namjoon follows her lead as she leads them around the steps, and towards the arched windows at the back of the room that overlooks the very gardens she used to chase and play with them when they were all much younger.

 

“From observing Taehyung tonight, I agree with you, he isn’t the same as he was prior to his accident,” Namjoon murmurs as they stand in front of the glass, looking out at the flowers and trees of the palace gardens, and the distant waterfall.

 

“He changed his hair colour,” she states with a humourless chuckle. “He changed it as soon as he could, whereas I’ve spent the last year trying to get him to stop killing his hair.”

 

“Even the way he walks has changed,” she continues as she still holds onto Namjoon’s arm. “He walks now as if he’s shying away from attention.”

 

Namjoon isn’t at all surprised she noticed such a small detail. She did train Taehyung when he was younger in the manners of how to present oneself in public.

 

“I have seen his medical report from the healing facility, and it shows no signs of memory lapse or brain damage,” Namjoon informs her softly, watching her expression as it continues to gaze outside.

 

“That may say one thing, by my gut says otherwise. My grandson has changed.”

 

Namjoon brings forth his memories of Taehyung – both young and adult – and even as a child, Taehyung has always had this air of self-assurance around him, so secure in knowing his identity, his role of prince and guardian in training, and also his destiny to protect and lead the realm.

 

But, now?

 

It feels like that self-assurance has vanished in the wake of the male surviving exploding his full strength as a maegee guardian at the Void’s creatures.

 

“I want you to travel with Taehyung,” comes the soft, quiet, request, her gaze slipping to look at him. “He’s always favoured you as his counsel, but with what we both suspect, I need him to have someone watching his back, whilst Hoseok watches his front.”

 

“I’ll inform Hoseok of the changes in itinerary,” Namjoon says softly. “Make it known that he isn’t the only one aware of change in Taehyung.”

 

“My worries for Taehyung’s trip to Luneria used to be about his mouth digging him into rifts with the Lunerian prince, and now, my worries are fixated on if Taehyung can stand beside the other guardian.”

 

Namjoon reaches for her aged hands and gently cups them with his own, squeezing lightly.

 

“If the disorientation prevails and compromises Taehyung’s safety in the Luneria Realm, I vow to you that Hoseok and I will bring him home,” Namjoon promises earnestly, his chest thumping with it as he feels his magic responding under his skin with little pricks of heat.

 

Their grandmother smiles, looking amused and endeared.

 

“I know you will. You were a majestic warrior of fire, before you became your cousin’s sole secret keeper and adviser, his teacher,” she teases him fondly.

 

Namjoon’s cheeks flush at the compliment and reminder of those days, bowing his head slightly in thanks.

 

She squeezes his hands softly. “I know you may meet them in Luneria,” she begins slowly, and Namjoon’s smile stiffens as he senses where this is going, “but, they are our distant relation.”

 

“That part of the Kim family line has long been scorched from records, they were classed as deserters of the realm, and I’d be very surprised if that name still exists in that realm,” Namjoon politely states.

 

She shrugs her shoulders, “Possibly not, but if it does, do not trust them until you’re satisfied that they’re no harm to Taehyung. Just because they share our name, doesn’t mean they are family.”

 

Namjoon nods. “I understand.”

 

She lets go of their hands, and pats his shoulder as she takes her leave. “Rest well, Namjoon. You’re going to be very busy.”

 

Namjoon bows to her back as she leaves, heading down the throne room aisle, and back through the doors he had brought her through, watching them shut as a knight takes his place and escorts her to the stairs and to her floor.

 

Namjoon turns back to the view of the gardens, and sighs heavily.

 

Sometimes, Namjoon wishes he wasn’t a Kim, that he was like Hoseok, someone born with higher status, instead of a blooded connection to royalty like he does with being Taehyung’s cousin.

 

Taehyung has admitted the same thing to him countless of times over the years, at how he wished that Namjoon were the prince instead. Taehyung has always resented – on some level – of being an only child, the sole heir to the throne, as well as being Solaria’s Guardian on top, too.

 

Due to being Taehyung’s confidant, Namjoon knows that if Taehyung had his way, he’d only be a guardian, and not the crown prince of Solaria.

 

Namjoon lets out a small, quiet, sigh.

 

The coming weeks are going to be interesting and seemingly unnerving with what he’s seen of Taehyung tonight.

 

He just hopes that this tentative openness from Luneria will last, and not shut out Solaria for good if the Jeon Dynasty deems Taehyung as an unworthy companion to their own guardian.

 

The Void is knocking harder and harder on their door, and neither realm can afford to play ignorant any longer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Night time in Solaria consists of a stunning sunset, and a coolness that is refreshing as it comes from the ocean surrounding the riviera.

 

Taehyung is still dressed in his clothes from the party that he left a couple of hours ago, and he’s been watching from his balcony window of his impressive bedroom as boats leave the palace dock, heading for the distant blur of land in the horizon that wasn’t there earlier in the day when Taehyung learnt of the shimmery boundary line from the Luneria Realm.

 

A realm that Taehyung will be leaving for, sometime tomorrow, in the first step of establishing promise of change and being allies, once more.

 

Taehyung fists his shaking hands on the cool stone balcony wall, resisting the tempting urge to see if this is indeed something out of the movie, ‘Inception’ where all he needs is a ‘kick’ and he’ll wake up from this illusion and be in a hospital bed instead.

 

He’d be lying if he said that the actual thought of tomorrow arriving didn’t faze him – he’s absolutely dreading waking up in that lavish bed and facing a world he knows very little about.

 

Being so high up means that he can’t hear the dwindling sounds of the party ending far below, or the voices of those that leave the palace from the main entrance back to a specific part of the town he hasn’t seen, or to the docks.

 

But, it also means that urge to just climb over this wall and fall is very tempting, since the falling sensation alone would be the ‘kick’ needed, instead of the actual impact of him splatting himself onto the grand steps below.

 

Instead of doing just that, Taehyung lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging, as he continues to stare at the moonlight that dances over the waves of the sea.

 

He should really go to bed and get as much sleep as he can to process this all, once more, tomorrow.

 

His feet stay rooted on the balcony of his window instead.

 

If he was back home – minus being involved in a motorbike collision – he’d be on his bed, laptop open, continuing his binge of faithful anime shows that he loves to revisit.

 

Instead, he’s currently standing on a balcony, detached from everything that he is familiar with.

 

Despite this world being magical, he’s noticed that there is a severe lack of modern technology that he’s used to having instant access to, but it doesn’t feel like the world is lacking due to it, it still feels….modern – the clothing, mannerisms of speaking, and even the furnishings.

 

Taehyung sighs, feeling heavy from an exhausting evening, feels his limbs ache from it, almost.

 

The sound of a window opening on the floor below draws his attention as it disrupts his self-pity session and the calm silence of the night.

 

“Are you going to stand out there all night?” a familiar voice calls up, annoyed, and Taehyung’s earlier irritation floods through his veins as he leans over and peers down to see freshly washed hair in disarray, black silk robes, and a young face staring up at Taehyung, silver eyes strong and piercing.

 

“What’s it got to do with you?” Taehyung snipes back, unable to keep his tongue in check as he and the Lunerian prince stare at each other.

 

“I rather sleep in peace without being aware of you right outside my window,” the male deadpans back, leaning his back against his own balcony ledge to stare up at Taehyung better.

 

Taehyung files that piece of, ‘what the fuck does that even mean’, away for later.

 

Right now, round two of their verbal sparring match is in progress.

 

“Technically, I’m nowhere near your window,” Taehyung retorts back.

 

Taehyung sees the male’s cheek muscle twitch, the silver in his eyes hardening.

 

Taehyung hopes his own golden eyes show how much the other is currently getting on his nerves, despite this being his second interaction with the male.

 

“Are you going in, or not?” Jungkook questions, not budging from being the one bossing Taehyung around in his own damn home.

 

Taehyung flicks his gaze back to the ocean. “Nope.”

 

Maybe it’s because Taehyung is still growing used to feeling aware of how the air ripples sometimes - that he’s not yet really sure what it means - but the strong ripples that are coming from the male below are only becoming heavier the longer he stands there.

 

Strange, Taehyung wasn’t even aware of it before the male came out to harass Taehyung like a strict parent.

 

Surprisingly, a tired sigh comes from below instead of another bossy remark.

 

“Look, you should be resting; coming out of a deep sleep isn’t easy. You can drop at any time,” comes the unwilling tone of someone wishing that they didn’t possess concern over someone’s welfare, and Taehyung refuses to look to see it reflected in those silver eyes.

 

“I’m not going to faint and topple to my death, if that’s what you mean, so you can go and rest yourself,” Taehyung reassures, forcing himself to be civil, and meets Jungkook’s gaze.

 

Jungkook’s silver eyes snap from Taehyung’s before he can get a good read on them, but his posture is rigid with tension.

 

If possible, the way the air pulses from the prince seems to ripple with more strength, causing Taehyung’s chest to pulse in a way that he’s sussing to be his magic’s response to threats or something, since it feels similar to how his gut instinct would respond.

 

“You truly have no sense of self-preservation, do you?” Jungkook dryly responds back with, not meeting Taehyung’s gaze.

 

Well, Taehyung can’t really argue with that, since it is sort-of true.

 

“I go with the flow,” Taehyung sighs out as he shifts, fiddling with the belt around his waist as it begins to become uncomfortable but unable to remove it since it’s part of the trousers.

 

“The same flow that almost got you killed.”

 

Taehyung’s hands pause at that as Jungkook looks up at him, his silver eyes still intimidatingly strong, but no longer as harsh.

 

Curiosity trickles through him at the sudden shift from the male.

 

“You know, you sound like you almost care, considering your distaste for me,” Taehyung bluntly points out.

 

Jungkook’s response doesn’t get the chance to come since the male’s attention snaps away from him and fixates on something inside his room.

 

“I’d advise you to rest, Taehyung. You have a long journey tomorrow,” Jungkook orders - more than actually advises, which just further cements the fact that the male is very used to being bossy - as he leaves his balcony, the sound of the window shutting in his wake.

 

Taehyung resists the temptation to mock the prince’s words, feeling petty again, and wonders if this was the same response this world’s Taehyung had when he first met Jungkook too.

 

He knows they’ve gotten off the wrong foot – Jungkook doesn’t know that Taehyung isn’t the same Taehyung he encountered on the day that this world’s Taehyung divebombed into the Lunerian realm – and that it’s really down to Taehyung to make this better, instead of reacting with attitude back to the prince.

 

Taehyung lets out another sigh, feeling more being added to the weight on his shoulders.

 

He’s completely out of his comfort zone, and is freefalling blindly into the abyss that features sharp-tongued princes, and magic that is literally vital to surviving.

 

At least the air is calm again in the wake of Jungkook’s quick departure.

 

His anxiety levels, unfortunately, can’t relate to such calm.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taehyung wakes up to the foreign sound of something moving around him, trying its hardest to be stealthy and quiet.

 

He scares Minho when he launches himself up off his bed, wielding a pillow as his weapon, and Minho’s loud screaming reaction to Taehyung’s sudden throwing of said pillow startles Taehyung awake as his voice bounces off the walls of his bedroom.

 

“Are you trying to give me heart failure?!” Minho barks at him, flustered, as he throws back the pillow to Taehyung’s dishevelled form kneeling on his bed.

 

“Why are you skulking around at – wait, what time is it?” Taehyung redirects into a question, seeing that either side of his bedside tables lack a clock.

 

“It’s after eight, and you’re late,” Minho says, regaining composure faster than Taehyung as he continues to straighten the clothes that are hanging onto the rail he must’ve silently wheeled into his room.

 

Taehyung stares at the range of material on offer, and feels his temples dimly begin to thump from lingering exhaustion – since he spent most of the night tossing and turning as he tried to find sleep – and also feeling slightly sick at finding himself still in this world.

 

He feels his shoulder slump, feels the dress shirt that he wore to the party and also wore in bed slip off his shoulder as he rubs at his eyes, trying to separate from the lethargic feeling hanging onto him.

 

“Get dressed as fast as you can, breakfast will be served soon,” Minho continues to hustle him into moving as he comes to yank the bedding from where its pooled around Taehyung.

 

Taehyung obeys the passive aggressive hinting for him to get up, but as soon as his feet touch the carpet flooring, the sickly feeling curling up from his gut reaches his chest, forcing Taehyung to swallow thickly as he hurries for the tray that holds a jug of water and an empty glass.

 

“You look peaky, you okay?” Minho calls from behind him as he begins to make Taehyung’s bed, and Taehyung would’ve snapped at him to leave it and that he’s perfectly capable of making his own bed if he wasn’t hurrying to pour himself a glass of water as his mouth dries with every passing second, his throat feeling like its closing up if he doesn’t get a drop of water passed his lips.

 

But, even as he downs half the glass of water, it doesn’t stop the tightness in the back of throat, nor the way his hands shake, and his temples pulse harder.

 

“Taehyung?” Minho’s voice bounces hollowly, as if he’s no longer in the room with him.

 

Taehyung sways in his search to track the male that moves too quickly and silently, hand reaching for the clothing railing to steady his balance as he does so.

 

And misses.

 

He sees a blur of Minho’s shocked face still by his bed as his knees crumble, feels the back of his right side become wet and cold from the water he’s just been drinking, and then the softness of the carpet cupping his face.

 

As his ears ring and echo, it’s hard to pick sounds out above to loud sound of his pulse racing, but he thinks he can faintly hear Minho scream for the second time.

 

Taehyung’s eyelids feel too heavy, too sticky as they stick together, his body confused if it wants to be flushed or freezing cold, too heavy to lift any of his limbs as he lies on the carpet, even his lungs feel slow too with every breath he takes.

 

This feels like the worst head rush he’s ever had in his entire life, mixed in with how it felt that one time he experienced low blood sugar during his army training days.

 

“-ung?”

 

Taehyung can’t open his eyes just yet, not until the pulsing in his head fucks off and stops making it feel like he’s spinning, but he forces a noise out.

 

He feels ice-cold hands cup his neck and face, shifting his face so it’s not smushed against the carpet, and Taehyung can immediately breathe a little easier now as a result.

 

He just dropped?” someone asks in the far distance of blackness, those cold hands the only thing grounding Taehyung.

 

“He went to get a drink and just hit the floor,” comes Minho’s frantic voice, the male’s voice more familiar than the other.

 

“Taehyung? Can you hear me?” the first voice asks, and again, Taehyung forces himself to make a noise, the cold hands helping with his body decide if it wants to be flushed or cold since he can feel the shakes to his limbs settle and slow.

 

“See where the healers are, they should be here by now, it’s their prince on the floor,” the same voice growls out, and Taehyung’s hearing becomes a little less hollow and echoey as his pulse stops sprinting through his veins.

 

One of the cold hands move from the side of his jaw, to under his fringe, the other remaining against his neck.

 

“Accelerated pulse, clammy and pale skin, hitched breathing,” the voice mutters as if they’re speaking to themselves, and Taehyung has enough brain power to realise that it’s a male speaking, and that it’s familiar as well.

 

“Drops like this are common after waking up from a deep sleep, it’s why I told you to get in last night.”

 

Taehyung’s heart stops just as he finally wins the battle with his sticky-feeling eyes to open.

 

Jungkook’s silver eyes greet him, and Taehyung’s heart feels like it doesn’t dare to miss another beat under such intense gaze.

 

“This is awkward,” Taehyung rasps out through dry, numb, lips as the world around him comes back to focus.

 

Jungkook’s cold hands still remain on his skin as a minute twitch in the corners of his lips betray his mask of stoicness.

 

“Give it another minute for the drop sensation to pass,” Jungkook tells him in his usual bossy manner, and if it wasn’t for the fact that his hands are blessedly cool and helping Taehyung ground himself back into his own body, he’d be biting at the tone used on him by the other prince.

 

Taehyung makes a grunting sound, and closes his eyes again, breathing heavily through his nose, and then slowly out through his mouth, waiting for his body to feel somewhat normal again.

 

“Do…do you recall what a drop is?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, his tone reminding Taehyung of last night at how he spoke to Taehyung like he didn’t want to ask but felt obligated to do so.

 

“Nope,” Taehyung admits without shame, making the ‘p’ pop with it too.

 

He feels tension briefly in the hands still on his skin, before they relax once more.

 

“You sure you’re cleared from the healers and doctors?” Jungkook asks instead, his tone slightly taking on that growl-like tone of frustrated annoyance he heard earlier when he spoke of the healers being slow in responding.

 

“They’re doctors, aren’t they?” Taehyung responds back with a tired-sounding sigh as he opens his eyes again to silver eyes quickly flicking from his to stare at the doorways of Taehyung’s bedroom as the sounds of running comes apparent.

 

In a matter of seconds, Taehyung is swarmed by concerned bodies, all with gold eyes that radiate medical concern towards him, and barely concealed nerves from the Lunerian prince that stands behind them, overseeing their movements with silent scrutiny.

 

“The Queen Regent has been informed,” Minho’s voice pipes up amongst the strangers’ voices as they perform checks that Taehyung is familiar with – blood pressure, temperature, pupil dilation – and also examinations that he has no idea what they’re checking for as they place what Taehyung can only describe as muscle shock pads on various points of his body – the inside of his wrists, the sides of his neck, various ones on his chest that is now on display to a room of strangers due to the deep v-neck shirt being shoved as open as it can be.

 

“Is that necessary?” Taehyung complains as he tries hard not to fidget in discomfort or show how everything happening is beginning to freak him out since he’s now anticipating multiple shocks across his body.

 

“She’s your grandmother,” Minho deadpans as he too stands behind the bodies of the medical personnel. “Namjoon is on his way too.”

 

“Who?” Taehyung blurts out, the name completely new to him, and it makes everyone – bar Jungkook – freeze and stare at Taehyung.

 

Taehyung winces inwardly at fucking up, yet again.

 

“Your cousin,” Minho is the one to break the silence with hesitance to do so, and Jungkook’s silver gaze hardens at hearing that, just as Taehyung makes a pointless, ‘oh’, sound.

 

“This no longer sounds like mere disorientation from coming out of a deep sleep,” Jungkook’s voice is like a razor blade in the air, digging into the backs of the medical team, forcing them to stiffen again.

 

“Your Highness, the prince’s health appears nor-” one of them addresses Jungkook politely, his aged features showcasing his nerves of speaking to the Lunerian.

 

“Normal? Is that what you’re about to tell me?” Jungkook cuts off the male in a sharp tone, and Taehyung doesn’t know if he should intervene or not, since he knows the truth, whereas the poor medical staff don’t.

 

But, he also has Hoseok’s voice in his head, warning him to not arouse attention, and figures that this is beyond ‘arousing attention’, anyway.

 

“Thank you, Prince Jungkook, but I’m sure they know what they’re doing,” Taehyung intervenes as he sits on his bedroom floor, shirt open, with white patches stuck to him that are connected to a machine in one of the healer’s hands, hair a mess from sleep and being brushed from his face, and morning breath that he tries to hide by speaking very little.

 

Silver eyes fixate on him, and Taehyung is beginning to wonder if they only have one setting, that being, ‘intimidatingly intense’.

 

“As you wish, Prince Taehyung,” Jungkook sardonically says, and Taehyung is too late to realise his obvious mistake of addressing the other so formally, considering that the other had called him by his name only, and had been the first to come to Taehyung’s aid.

 

Taehyung keeps his sigh to himself as he watches Jungkook’s back leave the room, and with the prince’s departure, the tension in the room drops and shoulders relax.

 

“The Lunerian prince carries himself in a way far different from you,” Minho is the one bold enough to say what Taehyung suspects is running through the three medical staffs’ minds.

 

“It’s just the mystery around him, don’t fall for it,” Taehyung grunts out as he eyes the machine warily. “Now, what is that going to do?”

 

The male holding it blinks at him at the question. “It’s a magic current reader. It helps us chart if your magic is disconnected from your core.”

 

Taehyung stares at the male, not understanding any of what just came from the male’s mouth. “Right, of course it does.”

 

The male – looking flustered at Taehyung’s dry tone – looks at his fellow colleagues for help.

 

And gets it from an unknown voice, that belongs to a male that Taehyung has never seen before – in this world, and his own.

 

“It helps healers and doctors understand if your control on your magic is weak or not, since it manifests in an electric charge beneath the skin,” the tall, golden eyed, white-blond haired male explains friendly to Taehyung, since his entire focus is on him as he comes to stand besides Minho.

 

“Namjoon, I’m going to assume?” Taehyung guesses, and watches the way the male smiles, looking not at all alarmed by it.

 

“You’re correct,” Namjoon smiles at him, and neatly folds his arms behind him, allowing his clothing – of elegant silky robing that is a mix of fiery tones – to shift around his body, highlighting not only his height once more, but the obvious stature of someone who his hiding muscles.

 

Actually, his straight posture is almost military-ish, that Taehyung wouldn’t be at all shocked to learn if the male is either a knight or a warrior too.

 

“Has this got something to do with the way I can feel a pulse sensation in my chest and in the air?” Taehyung seizes the chance to learn, staring at the healers/doctors this time, as they begin to tidy away their stuff back into their bags.

 

The aged one that had spoken to Jungkook is the one that answers him. “What you’re feeling is your awareness of magic currents in people, it’s what makes you a guardian, as well as your ability to sense all types of magic, and being able to use the different types of maegee.”

 

So, Taehyung had been on the right track with his earlier hypothesis of it being a form of an instinctive reaction and response, and it makes some sense why he was able to sense that pulse from Jungkook last night, and why it vanished along with his presence.

 

He’ll have to learn why it vanished, later.

 

“It seems that you did suffer a disorientation drop,” the one holding the magic reader states as the others then begin to peel off the white pads from Taehyung’s skin.

 

“Which is?” Taehyung further quizzes, taking full advantage of the situation to do so.

 

“It can happen for a few days after waking from a deep sleep, and it’s just your body’s way of adjusting to its environment,” Namjoon is the one the answer this time, his voice smooth and comforting, and Taehyung likes it already since it puts him at ease.

 

“I should just stay in bed, and avoid any more embarrassing moments,” Taehyung huffs out as he moves to stand up, easily dodging the hands from the healers/doctors – because, he doesn’t know the difference yet - to aid him with it.

 

“You wouldn’t be my dear cousin if you didn’t spawn endearing moments of embarrassment,” Namjoon teases, and Taehyung can’t help the smile that appears as a result.

 

He’s only known of the male for a minute or so, and he feels comfortable around him, just like how he does with Hoseok.

 

“I’m going to assume that since you’re able to stand, you’re fine?” comes his grandmother’s voice, and everyone but Taehyung bows at her appearance in his bedroom.

 

Even without the gown, his grandmother still radiates a soft elegance to her, even dressed in a semiformal dress of silk and cotton in neutral, warm, tones.

 

“I had a drop,” Taehyung says, testing it out, and when no one corrects him or looks at him weirdly, he figures he’s finally said something that makes sense, for once.

 

His grandmother’s golden eyes shimmer with soft concern, but relief soothes her expression.

 

“Good. You’re been through enough already,” she says tersely, even as she skims her gaze over his body, checking for herself before her gaze shifts to the three medical staff, who all straighten. “I expect a full report, and you will prepare a medical bag of all of our medicines to that Taehyung can easily access and use throughout his time there. I’m sure the Lunerians own healers and doctors are competent, but I’ll rest easier knowing my grandson has everything on hand for himself.”

 

A chorus of, ‘yes, Your Majesty’, rings around the room, and Taehyung watches as the three exit in a hurried flurry.

 

“You’re not even dressed,” his grandmother sighs once the room is empty of medical personnel, and Taehyung can’t help but smile at the noticeable shift in her posture as it relaxes and her features become less managed.

 

Namjoon and Minho silently smirk as Taehyung’s hand reaches up and clasps shut his open shirt.

 

“You’ll be leaving for Luneria this afternoon, so make sure you have everything packed away after breakfast, also, Hoseok and Namjoon have organised your warriors in your absence so that Solaria is not left unarmed in the inevitable case of the Void attacking,” his grandmother tells him as she steps past all of them to stand in front of his clothing rail. “Now, what you wore last night was very unlike your usual flare – which was a refreshing change, but not the wow factor that I need you to charm the Jeons with.”

 

Taehyung ignores the little snorts to his left as he hurries to stop his grandmother’s hands from their brisk inspection of the clothes hung up.

 

“I get that I need to do some ass kissing,” Taehyung grins at the snort his grandmother makes at his comment, nor does she deny such a thing that he needs to do, “but, I think you need to lay to rest your hopes of me marrying into that family. Jungkook himself detests me, and if he has any other siblings, I’m sure he’ll block me from trying to marry in that way, too.”

 

“Nonsense, he doesn’t detest you,” his grandmother states with confidence that confuses Taehyung, even as he wordlessly accepts the hanger being thrusted at his hands, “and he has a little sister, but she is already spoken for when she comes of age.”

 

“Grandma, it’s not going to happen,” Taehyung patiently repeats himself as he hangs up the hanger of sheer material, “and stop trying to get me naked in front of them, jeez.”

 

“There is nothing with a bit of playful skin on show, Taehyung. How else do you think your father wooed your mother?”

 

Taehyung’s ears burn, even as Namjoon and Minho begin to softly laugh in the background.

 

“Too much information needed, thanks, grandma,” Taehyung says as he lightly bats her hands from the clothing rail, and gently turns her to leave his bedroom.

 

His grandmother turns in his grip and grabs both of his cheeks with her hands, smushing them slightly as she coos, “you and Jungkook got off on the wrong foot, but that doesn’t mean he detests you, Taehyung. Give him a chance.”

 

And with pats to his cheeks that make him blink, his grandmother reaches for Namjoon’s arm, and the male promptly leads her from his room with a soft look thrown over his shoulder at Taehyung’s bemused form.

 

Minho follows behind them to shut the doors, giving Taehyung’s room privacy again, before coming back to Taehyung’s standing form.

 

“So, breakfast?” Minho grins with a light clap of his hands, moving for the clothing railing at the same time.

 

Taehyung just stares at the male’s back, already tired, and the day has just begun.

 

“I’m just gonna…shower,” Taehyung says, and hurries to the bathroom before Minho can detain him with anything.

 

In the bathroom, he feels the walls judging him once more as Taehyung stares into his reflection.

 

If yesterday felt like he was fumbling with trying to hold all of the proverbial balls he’s juggling in the air, then this morning feels like every single ball has thumped him on the skull as they crash landed.

 

Maybe it will get easier in Luneria, a realm that doesn’t know him as well as Solarians do, it might make it easier for Taehyung to try and find a balance of still being himself, whilst also not completely erasing this world’s Taehyung.

 

One thing is for sure, he needs to pack a cheat book for this world, and wonders if one exists in his library, because he’s going to need it for when he enters political and historical waters for the first time in four centuries.

 

“You got through military service, you can get through this,” Taehyung whisper hypes to himself as he starts the shower and undresses.

 

If he survived that, he surely can survive this.

 

Right?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As if things couldn’t get any more awkward this morning, breakfast sure is the icing on the cake.

 

Not only is he currently sitting at a table that is full of faces that he doesn’t know, the atmosphere is ridiculously stiff and tense as both royal and high status Lunerian and Solarian individuals sit amongst each other, becoming used to each other’s presence over plates of eggs, sausages, and other breakfast foods.

 

“I hope the healers cleared you, Taehyung. Jungkook told us of your drop this morning,” Jungkook’s mother, a beautiful woman with raven dark hair and piercing silver eyes (Taehyung now knows where Jungkook gets such piercing intensity from), kindly converses with Taehyung from across the dining table that sits directly underneath the massive skylight of the palace.

 

Taehyung – who had been sat rigid since sitting down because of all of the unknown faces present at the long ass table, and only knew of Namjoon and Hoseok who were sat on either side of him - startles at being directly spoken to by the older female, since she is the first to do so after the standard welcomes that he received upon arriving.

 

He can feel too many eyes on him, too many paused actions as they all wait for him to speak, and it makes Taehyung’s throat stick and close up as he becomes riddled with slight anxiety of saying something wrong amongst them all.

 

“Just a simple drop,” Taehyung manages to get the words out as he smiles at her, and tries hard not to fist his hands around the knife and fork in his hands with tension as he wishes for the attention to shift from him already.

 

Jungkook’s mother hums in kindness, her gaze softening, but still able to pierce straight through him like a finely aimed arrow.

 

It’s already a tad too familiar, that silver glint of sharp intelligence.

 

“Drops are always alarming, they can go in either direction of extremes,” Jungkook’s father adds politely, and Taehyung can see that Jungkook resembles more of his father in terms of facial structure and build, but takes after his mother for the way he can exude himself with his body language alone.

 

Taehyung didn’t know that, and wishes he didn’t, actually, because now he’s going to be paranoid about it happening again in the future.

 

“Don’t worry, you’re in great hands in Luneria. All of our healers and doctors are expertly trained, and they also are well versed in maegee magic issues, as well,” Jungkook’s mother warmly reassures him before she turns her attention back to her breakfast.

 

Taehyung just politely nods and smiles, not knowing what to say in response to that.

 

“Once Prince Taehyung has fully adjusted from the effects of recovering from his injuries, I’m sure that we’ll be seeing more of his lively spirit that we’ve come to know him by,” Jungkook speaks up as he raises his glass of water to his lips, his silver gaze fixed on Taehyung.

 

Taehyung’s lungs battle with themselves to still, or to shrivel, at the sharpness in those eyes.

 

Taehyung nails a polite smile to his lips in response as a few chuckles scatter up and down the table at the other prince’s comment.

 

“The people of Luneria are greatly anticipating this visit to our realm, it has become a romanticised event throughout the centuries, you see,” someone with brown eyes, but the same accent as the Lunerians, speaks up, starting up a conversation starter that Taehyung can hopefully learn from without having to add his own opinion to it.

 

“It’s been a most desired one for our own people,” someone on Taehyung’s side of the table politically adds.

 

“It also helps that both guardians are similar in age, it makes bonding much easier,” another Lunerian speaks up, causing numerous heads to bop up and down in agreement.

 

Taehyung accidently catches Jungkook’s gaze at that moment, and cuts his knife harder against his plate at the unreadable look in the other’s gaze as he silently sips from his glass.

 

“Say, Prince Taehyung, is it true that you achieved level two status of manifestation and control of your dominant elemental by the tender age of eleven?” someone asks him, and Taehyung freezes again in his seat at the out-of-the-blue question.

 

It honestly sounds like he’s just been spoken to in a different language as his brain very helpfully produces nothing to help him respond with.

 

“I think it was a little later, perhaps thirteen?” Namjoon smoothly answers for him as he raises a questioning eyebrow at Taehyung, whom silently nods in answer, blindly trusting the male. “Lightning is a very unpredictable elemental to wield and control, especially to have as a dominant elemental source, and yet, Taehyung wields it like it’s nothing to him, making him the first guardian in decades to be able to both wield lightning, but also minor elementals with such control.”

 

Taehyung reaches for his own glass of water as he tries hard not to sweat under the murmurs of awed praise from the other side of the table as he takes a small sip of his water, and tries harder to not to let panic and anxiety rush and crush him as he learns more of his own magical background.

 

“Well, from the brief display of power that Prince Jungkook and his warriors witnessed that fateful day of the Void breaking our barrier, as well as the surge that we felt a few days ago, we’re most excited to see a guardian wield such elemental power,” another Lunerian says, and Taehyung chugs down another mouthful, trying to remain in his seat and not race out of the room away from this big talk of his magical prowess that he definitely doesn’t have any longer.

 

“What can I say, the Void brings out my temper,” Taehyung lightly jokes, causing a few smiles and chuckles, before he decides to remove himself from the topic, “we’ve been hearing a few whispers of Prince Jungkook’s power too.”

 

The Lunerian side all – collectively – sit straighter in their seats with obvious pride and respect for the prince, whom has raised a lone, dark, eyebrow at Taehyung at the turnaround.

 

“I daren’t ask what those whispers depict me as, but I am curious,” Jungkook responds with smoothly, and not a hint of actual curiousness is present in his tone.

 

“Nothing remotely coherent,” Namjoon answers with, making Jungkook’s lips tug up into an obvious pleased smile, “just that your shivta power is not only majestic, but also rare within Luneria, and possibly Solaria.”

 

“It is,” Jungkook agrees without shame or conceit, just stating the truth. “Luneria is the strongest core for shivta magic, and yet, my form has so little historical information, it made it a challenge to harness it as I grew up with it.”

 

Taehyung isn’t the only one hooked onto the prince’s words, he can see from his peripherals that his side of the table is too.

 

“My daughter possessed shivta magic,” Taehyung’s grandmother speaks then, attracting all of their attention from where she sits at the head of the table, and Taehyung recalls the little that he knows of his parents in this world, remembering what Minho had told him of his mother and father. “She struggled to harness it for her entire life, unfortunately, a result of the disconnect from Luneria, and Solaria’s own miniscule history of certain shivta forms and magic attributes.”

 

“We’re sorry to hear that, we know all too well of the struggle one goes through being a shivta. May I ask what her form and attributes were?” Jungkook’s mother softly asks, and Taehyung’s grandmother smiles at her.

 

“She never could manifest into her full shivta form, the magic is just too weak on this side of Meeria to nurture the growth, but she did have shimmers of scales and could control fire, but not manifest it.”

 

Taehyung watches the Jeons reaction as he learns along with them of his mother’s magic and the cause of her demise, watches the brief flicker of interest that Jungkook shares with his parents as the other Lunerians keep their expressions to themselves.

 

“It’s hard to say what type of shivta she’d have been, considering that she was unable to hold her form,” Jungkook politely speaks, his tone respectful and soft.

 

Taehyung’s grandmother smiles, even as she waves the topic away with her hand. “It’s quite alright, Jungkook. I made peace with my daughter’s passing long ago, but it may help you all learn of Taehyung’s lively spirit, he possesses his mother’s fire, after all.”

 

Taehyung can’t help but smile at his grandmother’s roundabout way of defending him against Jungkook’s earlier comment, and a quick glance at the prince’s face shows that he is looking a little embarrassed for it, since he now knows deeper into Taehyung’s magical biology, which obviously means more to those sitting in this room, than it does to Taehyung’s cluelessness.

 

It makes him a tiny bit softer for his grandmother than he already is.

 

Breakfast continues on in subdued silence after his grandmother’s ending comment, those who speak, speak in hushed tones to their neighbours, rather than addressed to the entire table.

 

Everyone stands as Taehyung’s grandmother does, and Taehyung doesn’t know whether to latch onto her as she heads for him, or to inch away from her as she says, “now, if you’d all pardon me and my grandson, but I have yet to have a moment alone with him prior to his accident and awakening.”

 

Taehyung smiles at his grandmother with warm affection as he offers her his arm, like how he seen Namjoon do so earlier, before reminding himself to bow at the Jeons, since they are royals too.

 

As he leads his grandmother out to the front of the palace, he wishes he wasn’t so painfully aware of a certain gaze fixed on the back of his neck, one that he had noticed follow him as he and his grandmother walked away from the table.

 

“He is rather intense, isn’t he?” his grandmother muses as they step outside into the warmth of the sun-lit sky, knights bowing at them as they pass them on the white stone steps that are threatening to blind Taehyung due to the glare from the sun as he follows his grandmother’s lead.

 

“Jungkook?” Taehyung guesses, watching her side profile as she nods. “He looks….disciplined.”

 

“Something you aren’t,” she teases him with a little nudge from her elbow as they walk down the steps, the crisp scent of the perfectly pruned flowers and hedges on either side of the stone railings mingling in with the clean scent from the ocean before them.

 

“Guilty,” he smiles at her, leaning lightly against her in a nudge of his own.

 

His grandmother leads them to a roofed landing that sits halfway down the steps that lead either to the docks, or the path to where the higher status families reside.

 

Together, under the arched wooden beams, they rest their elbows on the cool stone walling, staring out at past the port with its few ships, over the surface of the ocean, and onto the blur of Luneria on the horizon.

 

“I want you to be truthful with me, Taehyung,” his grandmother begins softly after they’ve stood in comfortable silence, and Taehyung glances at her, already feeling himself tense up from her tone and words, “and I want you to be sure when you answer what I’m about to ask you.”

 

Taehyung’s heart kicks nervously in his chest. “Okay?”

 

Without looking at him, her golden gaze on the sea, she asks him, “the doctors are wrong, you really don’t remember who you are.”

 

Taehyung had a feeling this was what she was going to ask, and yet, he still can’t breathe as he stares at her face.

 

She slowly looks at him, her expression open with her concern and love for him, her eyes reading whatever is present in his own, which is probably blatant fear.

 

She grasps both of his hands with her own, holding them tightly. “It’s okay, you’re not alone with this, sweetie.”

 

Taehyung’s throat constricts tightly, feels a lump fix itself in his throat at her words, feels his eyes sting, as he tries not to take them too deeply and apply her words to how much he needs to hear them in his other life.

 

“Am I that transparent?” he quietly jests, breathing uneasily as he clings to her hands.

 

“You are to me, you’re more like a son to me, than a mere grandson,” she whispers fondly.

 

“I….I don’t remember…I don’t know how to act like I did,” Taehyung admits, feeling choked, but relieved at the same time.

 

“Well, then it’s fortunate that the only time you interacted with the Lunerians was during a very highly stressful moment,” she reassures him. “Like you’ve heard whispers of them, they’ve only heard whispers of you, and the thing with whispers, they disappear, they’re not solid.”

 

“Are you telling me to not pretend to be who everyone knows me to be?”

 

“I am, because you’ve been given a fresh slate to form unbiased opinions of them, and of your own realm,” she whispers firmly. “Your father is to blame for most of your bias towards the Lunerians, his frustration and anger passed onto you as a result, which grew more when your mother passed away.”

 

“He blamed them, didn’t he?” Taehyung fills in the blanks, and his grandmother sighs as she nods.

 

“He did. It’s how he soon met his own demise. His grief and anger clouded his focus, and it got him killed in the field.”

 

Taehyung glances at the horizon where the shimmering barrier no longer exists.

 

“I don’t remember who I am, and that means I don’t remember how to use any of the magic I possess,” Taehyung hints at nervously, finally being able to voice out one the many things that he’s been fretting ever since he began to learn more of his role in this world.

 

“Your magic is instinctive, and deep in your muscle memory, so while I think it’ll be best for you to train with Namjoon and Hoseok under the guise of you slowly working your way back from recovery, use it to also make sure that your instinct leads you, instead of you leading it, for once,” his grandmother advises slowly, thoughtful. “You, of course, don’t remember me saying this, but when you were growing up, I’d often consoled you on the days that you failed to control and harness your magic, with this: ‘it’s a song, not a battle. The more you try to force it to submit to your demands, the harder it’s going to resist, because you’re not listening to its own voice’.

 

Taehyung looks back at his grandmother, confused. “What?”

 

She laughs at his expression and tone. “And you still react the same way.”

 

Taehyung rewinds her words in his head, frowning as he tries to understand what she means.

 

“Your magic is part of you, Taehyung. It’s not a separate part, it’s you. Listen to how it responds, your instinct and senses are on a level that only Jungkook can relate to, use him to help you rediscover your own.”

 

“That might cause him to greatly doubt my ability to be alongside him,” Taehyung points out in a grave tone.

 

“He’s never had another guardian to talk to, Taehyung. Only history texts, and tutors that can only empathise so far with how it is to be a born with so much magic and responsibility. You’re going to be surprised at how easy it’s going to be for you two to bond together, just on that alone,” she softly corrects him, her confidence on his friendship with the other prince still blindingly strong.

 

“You’re so sure that we’re going to be pals, I can’t see it,” Taehyung sighs out heavily as she begins to tug them back to the steps up to the palace.

 

“You will in time.”

 

“Doubt it. You may have to give up on your dreams of me marrying into that family and just settle for, ‘working colleagues’.”

 

Her throaty chuckle in response causes him to fondly roll his eyes as they slowly return back to the palace.

 

“Maybe on your return, you might be ready to be King of Solaria, and I can finally be the old lady that I am,” his grandmother hints at cheekily, and Taehyung scoffs loudly at that.

 

He’s going to be lucky if he even returns in one piece, never mind with the confidence to rule an entire realm by himself.

 

“I don’t think that will change anytime soon, sorry, grandma.”

 

“We’ll see, Taehyung. My own instinct is telling me that this turn of event isn’t as dire as you think it is,” she says as the knights bow once more at them as they climb the grand steps a front of a palace has, of course.

 

“Wait, what type of maegee magic do you possess, grandma?” Taehyung whispers with dawning realisation as his gaze meets her amused golden ones.

 

She merely taps his arm as they walk back into the hall where the table is only now half full of people, the Jeons gone.

 

“Grandmotherly insight,” she answers with as she lets go of his arm to head for the hallway beside the stairs. “Go on and finish packing, now. Make sure that you have everything you’ll need for your stay. Luneria’s climate is cooler than our own, so I’ve been told. It’s a shame that you didn’t flaunt a bit of skin while you had the chance to!”

 

Taehyung’s whiney groan of complaint causes her laughter to ring behind her as he watches the back of his grandmother leave his side, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders along with her departure.

 

In the absence of her presence, Taehyung immediately aches with the urge to run after her and hug her close, fearing that this is the last time he could see her ever again, since his future is so uncertain.

 

Swallowing thickly from the ache of longing and grief from another lifetime, Taehyung forces himself to climb the staircase to his floor instead.

 

He finds Minho and another assisting him as they carry a wooden trunk between them, heading for the hidden doorway on Taehyung’s landing.

 

“Ah! Just in time – I’ve packed the necessities that you’ll be needing for your stay, but you still need to pack your personal trunk!” Minho hollers, pausing half-in-half-out of the hidden doorway. “If you need anything, let me know and I can add it to the luggage cart!”

 

Taehyung nods, sensing the hurried air around Minho, who probably has twenty other jobs to be doing at the same time as caring after Taehyung, and watches the hidden door slip shut behind the two, before making his way through the main door of his floor, heading straight for his library.

 

He needs to find anything that will remotely look like an all-in-one guide, and he needs to find it fast, since he isn’t too sure when he has to leave.

 

Only, as he opens the door to his private study, he finds that it’s not as empty as he assumed it would be.

 

“Sorry, I would’ve left the door open, but it would’ve aroused Minho’s curiosity to see me searching for basic texts of history and magic,” Namjoon apologises softly from where he stands on a ladder, books in the crook of his elbow, one in hand, as he gazes down at Taehyung’s stunned form.

 

“W-why would you-” Taehyung tries to get the question out, only for Namjoon to interrupt him with a knowing, soft, smile as he descends the ladder.

 

“You don’t remember, but I’m more than a mere cousin to you. You sought counsel from me for various of things: academia, work-related, even your love life,” Namjoon teases the latter part as Taehyung shuts the door behind him, in case Minho returns faster than he expects.

 

“And our grandmother has asked me to take you back to the basics. I’m sure you understand why,” Namjoon finishes with a soft pointedness, and Taehyung swallows as his grandmother’s words from earlier make a lot more sense.

 

“It’s okay, you’re not alone with this, sweetie.”

 

“Who else knows?” Taehyung asks thickly, because he went from only having Hoseok knowing of his lack of knowledge of this world, to his grandmother, and now Namjoon.

 

“Myself, grandmother, and Hoseok. Everyone else believes it’s all mere disorientation,” Namjoon reassures as he places the books he carries into a smaller trunk, one clearly designed to protect stationary.

 

Taehyung takes in a relieved breath deep into his lungs at that. “You beat me to it – I was coming to search for an, ‘idiot’s guide to Meeria and its wonders’.”

 

Namjoon smiles at that, amused. “A fitting title, maybe you should coin it one day.”

 

Taehyung snorts at that as he joins the taller, blonde, male. “So, what did you find?”

 

“I found the most discreet books about our history – Solaria’s, and Luneria’s. It’s a good thing that you hoarded those old books as a kid about Luneria, they’ve finally come in use.”

 

Taehyung thinks he knows which books the male is talking about since he can spy two that are much more aged and withered compared to the others.

 

“I’ll be taking some and writing a cheat sheet for you, one that is easy for you to memorise without needing to read the entire books,” Namjoon adds as he gestures to a few of the thicker books. “You need to be up to date as fast as possible. You can always research for deeper meanings once we have you confident in knowing about the differences and levels of maegee and shivta magic.”

 

“Speaking of such, what is yours?” Taehyung bluntly asks as he meets the male’s golden eyes, since he can feel the air around Namjoon ripple, his instinct making him aware of it.

 

In answer, Namjoon holds out the palm of his hand, and scares the absolute shit out of Taehyung when his entire palm ignites with fire ball.

 

Shit!” Taehyung yelps, jumping back from the wave of heat at the sudden ignition, watching with wide, transfixed, eyes as Namjoon’s palm remains open and still, but the fire grows and twists into different forms and shapes as it remains connected by a thin trail of fire to his palm.

 

“I’m a level three fire maegee, and you’ll soon know what that means once I’ve made that cheat sheet for you,” Namjoon explains as the fire suddenly vanishes with a click of his fingers, leaving behind a residue of warmth in the air between them.

 

“Remind me to never piss you off,” Taehyung answers bluntly in response, making Namjoon laugh as he leans and shuts the lid of the trunk, before lifting it up.

 

“There is back panel of your wardrobe in your bedroom that you hide your most personal belongings, I’d advise you to have a look and pack anything you may think will aid you in Luneria,” Namjoon pauses to tell him as he moves to leave the room with the trunk. “I’m sure Minho has already packed your combat gear, but you have your favourites within easy reach. I’d advise you to check the columns of your bed for them.”

 

Taehyung can only gawp at the male, feeling slightly unnerved.

 

“I either really trusted you, or you snooped.”

 

Namjoon’s lips quirk up into a dimpled smile that instantly chases away the unnerved feeling. “A bit of both. You’re my little cousin, after all. I have to make sure you’re safe.”

 

Taehyung doesn’t know how to respond to that as he watches the male leave, leaving the door ajar for Taehyung to go to his bedroom.

 

He doesn’t get the feeling that he needs to keep a close eye on the blonde male, but he’s not going to lie and say that it hasn’t unnerved him to know that Namjoon is probably the only one that this world’s Taehyung spilled his guts to whenever he was troubled with something, and therefore, knows how to possibly micromanage him as result.

 

Taehyung shakes his head as he reminds himself that he’s not this world’s Taehyung, and therefore, whatever secrets the male may know, do not apply to Taehyung.

 

His grandmother was right – this is a chance for Taehyung to make himself comfortable in this skin without trying to be a carbon copy of the Taehyung this world knows or has heard of.

 

If Taehyung is going to survive, he’s going to have to stop himself from developing a split identity. The word is out there that he’s still recovering from a hefty accident that almost killed him, that alone would change anyone.

 

So, why wouldn’t it change him?

 

It’s a perfect guise and excuse for him.

 

Heading for his bedroom, Taehyung’s decision to stop trying to fill in the steps left behind him and to make his own becomes more concrete when he doesn’t go to the wardrobe to inspect the hidden space there.

 

He doesn’t need to know what lies within because they’re not related to him, and he honestly feels weird about nosing in on another version of him.

 

However, what he finds in the columns of his bedposts that easily open to reveal a hidden compartment inside that houses just a lone black pole in each post, makes him question just why a stick could be a favoured weapon.

 

Curious, Taehyung takes one from out of the columns, and raises an eyebrow at how light it feels in his hand, at how….natural his grip fits around the thickness of it.

 

It’s only then that he notices the callouses on his own hands, a mark left behind of years and years of effort, either in fighting with or without the stick that has a metallic smoothness and coolness of metal, but the slight weight of a bamboo stick.

 

Inspecting it further, Taehyung frowns at the markings engraved into the black, trying and failing to read what it could say.

 

“You’re big enough to fit into the chest, may as well take something as a precaution to have on hand in the event someone comes to kill me in my sleep,” Taehyung murmurs to himself as he drops it mindlessly into the empty bottom of the trunk that is on his bed, open and ready for him to pack, courtesy of Minho, no doubt.

 

Ignoring the sound of the stick rattling along the bottom of the wooden trunk, Taehyung goes to his wardrobe to pick out casual clothing that is probably going to be the only decent thing he has on offer, from what he’s seen of his grandmother’s clothing tastes for him.

 

He packs some of the toiletries from his bathroom, and that is it.

 

His chest looks direly empty, but he shuts and locks it anyway.

 

His grandmother said that Luneria has a cooler climate, so Taehyung hopes the that thicker clothing he’s packed will be of use – slacks, shirts, a few belts he can use to make his attire look causal and not carbon copies of his work outfits, and simple black loafers.

 

It’s only as he catches sight of his reflection in the full-length mirror beside his wardrobe that he realises that he should probably change out of the silk pants and chiffon shirt he’s dressed in.

 

With that in mind, Taehyung goes to ransack his wardrobe one last time, before he hears the sound of his bedroom doors opening.

 

“Ah, you’re just about to change, good – here is your guardian uniform,” Minho grins as he heads for Taehyung, holding up a clothing bag that is protecting the clothing inside, and a wooden box. “You’re set to leave in half an hour, but I’ll come and get you if you’re not downstairs before then.”

 

Taehyung unzips the garment bag as he takes it from Minho, and is honestly surprised at seeing leather and black, and no hint of silk or chiffon, or the warm colours that he’s become used to seeing in his garments.

 

“Hoseok had ordered you new uniform sets and boots when you were in deep sleep – not only to make a good impression in Luneria, but you wrecked your newest set when you decided to blow yourself up,” Minho teases as he places the wooden box on the floor in front of the mirror.

 

Taehyung smiles at the male and thanks him for his help, which Minho promptly takes as a dismissal, and leaves Taehyung to his curiosity of learning what his own uniform looks like as he pulls everything out of the bag.

 

He’s a little surprised at seeing the seamless black booty shorts that must be his underwear, and then he pulls out the leather and immediately understands why – the leather pants aren’t cheaply made, but they aren’t restrictive either from what Taehyung can test as he tugs and pulls at the sides of the pants legs.

 

Next is the same black compression T-shirt that he’s seen Hoseok sporting, and the last piece being a tailor-made, black, dress jacket, with a fitted (silk, of course, they still managed to sneak it in) belt at the waist.

 

“Huh, not what I expected,” Taehyung murmurs to the room as he holds up the jacket that doesn’t feel like how a normal jacket would feel, noting the slightly squared shoulders that are going to make his own look nice.

 

Turning it around, it’s only then that Taehyung sees the intricate detailing on the back, the slight pleated bottom to allow movement, and the raised black embodied patterns that takes up the upper back of the jacket.

 

Frowning, Taehyung is once again reminded that he knows nothing of the art history in this world because the patterns on his jacket must mean something, must relate to guardian history for it to be part of his uniform, and sighs as he’s left to just simply admire the care and detail that has gone into it.

 

Hearing distant shouts from the port, probably helpers and alike readying their journey to Luneria, Taehyung strips himself naked, and braves putting on the leather pants first.

 

He only has to wiggle and jump a bit around the room to slide them up his legs and over his ass, but at least they fit him and make his legs look amazing that Taehyung can’t stop admiring his reflection as he checks out his own ass with a nod of approval.

 

“The view makes up for the fact that these are going to be nasty to peel off later,” Taehyung comments to himself as he shoves on the compression shirt, sweating a little from wriggling his way into his pants, and already notes the differences in his own physique compared to Hoseok’s own, which is vastly more sculpted and lean, compared to Taehyung’s soft leanness.

 

The only really struggle Taehyung has are with the boots.

 

To him, they would be classed as high fashion in his world, something that looks pretty on a catwalk but has no practical use.

 

The actual shoe part of the boot reminds Taehyung of chunky running sneakers with the bobbled rubber soles, and then it becomes more boot-like as the leather covers high up his calves, the front of the boot sleeves criss-crossed with wide leather bands that must’ve been tailormade to Taehyung’s exact measurements, because there is nothing on them to help him tighten or loosen the boots.

 

But, trying to squeeze leather over leather?

 

Taehyung truly begun to sweat in earnest as he tugged and wiggled his feet into the damn things.

 

Once on and up on his feet, and feeling like his calves are in lycra or something from how tight the leather feels, Taehyung almost dropped back onto the floor to rip them off.

 

“How the fuck did I fight in these fucking things?” Taehyung vents as he tries to grow used to the alien feeling of having his feet and legs suffocated, and feels sweat collect more down his spine as the warmth of his room begins to affect him now that he’s wearing leather on leather, and a compression shirt.

 

Taehyung takes one look at the jacket, and grows hotter just by looking at it.

 

“I’m going to melt by the time I get to Luneria,” Taehyung grumbles to himself as he yanks on the thing, feeling his hair begin to stick at the back of his nape as he drags it on.

 

If he felt warm a second ago, now he feels like a furnace.

 

He grumpily exits his bedroom just in time to see Minho rushing in from the doorway of his landing.

 

“You’re actually on time, wow,” Minho laughs, and then notices the way Taehyung is flushed and clearly uncomfortable in his uniform, “I know, this is technically your winter uniform, but Luneria is cool all year round, so it makes sense for you to wear this, compared to your usual uniform.”

 

“I’m going to sweat myself out of these before I get on a boat,” Taehyung grunts, tugging at his jacket opening to air some form of cool air into it, despite it being open still.

 

“You’ll be fine, you big grump. I’ll get your stuff; you just get yourself down there. The Jeons are already saying their goodbyes to your grandmother.”

 

Taehyung thanks the male – again – and hurries himself out of his bedroom floor, and down the staircase, not wanting to come across as tardy, which is something he isn’t going to be in either worlds.

 

He notices a few higher status individuals lingering on the floor that is below the one Jungkook had stayed in, and moves himself faster before he can get accosted by them.

 

By the time he’s made his way across the ballroom to where he can see his grandmother and the Jeon family at the entrance of the palace, he’s glad that he’s wearing the jacket, because no doubt he’s got pit sweat showing now.

 

The Jeons leave first before Taehyung gets to them, and he’s glad, because as soon as his grandmother sees him, she’s fussing over him.

 

“I’m fine, leather is hot, and I mean that literally,” Taehyung reassures, dodging her hands.

 

“Jungkook isn’t faring any better, he looks just as miserable as you do, but his politeness tried to hide it,” his grandmother shares as she takes his arm this time and leads him down the steps, almost replicating their earlier moment together.

 

Taehyung can still see signs of the other royal family further down the steps, and sees that the prince is wearing the same uniform as his, even the jacket appears alike, from what he can see of it.

 

“Now, you’ll be gone a while, but the longer you stay, the better it looks for Solaria,” his grandmother whispers to him, her tone quiet so that it can’t carry.

 

Taehyung swallows the nerves, and nods. “Okay.”

 

“It’ll look even better if you and Jungkook become more than friendly, but you mustn’t force that,” his grandmother adds firmly, meeting his gaze. “I want strong, honest, bonds between us and them, Taehyung.”

 

Taehyung nods again, unable to hold back his nerves this time. “Got it – no fake romance if such a thing were to happen. I’ll be glad if we can actually become friends, despite how much you believe we will be.”

 

His grandmother chuckles softly. “Of course you two will be friends. You both stand to learn something from the other.”

 

Taehyung doubts Jungkook needs to learn anything from him, but, whatever.

 

“Namjoon will be writing to me every other day. If you need anything, let him know, and I’ll see to it that you get it,” his grandmother continues as they get closer to the port where Taehyung’s starting to feel a lot more ripples coming at him through the air as his nerves seem to prompt his instinct to kick into high gear, and forces himself to pay attention to his grandmother instead of the way the air feels.

 

As they leave the stone steps behind them, and walk along the stone port, the rushing bodies on the ships that are anchored, and those on the actual port itself, come to a slow, respectful, halt, as they bow at both the Jeon family, and also at Taehyung and his grandmother.

 

The back of his neck prickles as if the air is literally poking his neck for attention, and a quick glance behind him shows that they’ve been tailed a respectful distance by two female knights, and he can see Minho and a few others coming down the steps too.

 

Dismissing the heads up from the instinct he’s still adjusting and learning to read, he looks ahead and Taehyung’s nerves kick higher as they come upon a docked ship that is no bigger than the ferry ships that he’s used to seeing back in his world.

 

The Jeon family are standing on the ramp, waiting for Taehyung, and his grandmother was right, Jungkook looks just as uncomfortable in his leathered attire as Taehyung does due to Solaria’s heat.

 

Feeling his grandmother’s hands grip his own, he drags his gaze onto her, only to be punched in the chest at the sight of held back tears.

 

“Grandma…” Taehyung whispers softly, feeling himself choke up as he grips her hands firmly.

 

“This will be the first time that I’m seeing you off for a long period of time, I’m allowed to be teary-eyed,” she sniffles gently, her gaze unmoving off Taehyung’s face, as if she’s memorising every inch of him.

 

Again, it feels like his grief from his world is opening up again as he forces himself to hold back his own tears as he lifts their hands and kisses the back of her own.

 

It makes her laugh, and for love and affection to flood her golden eyes, but her tears don’t spill.

 

“I’ll make you proud,” Taehyung whispers against her knuckles, and knows he’s saying words that he never got the chance to utter in his past.

 

“You already have, Taehyung.”

 

Taehyung breathes in deeply, closes his eyes to stop the tears from spilling, and only opens them when he’s confident that he’s won against the urge to do so.

 

He pulls her into a tight hug, inhaling her scent that hasn’t changed, and ignores the world around them for a long, solid, minute.

 

He doesn’t know what is coming his way, and he’ll be damned if he can’t hug his grandmother one last time.

 

Sniffling slightly as they pull apart, Taehyung gives his grandmother a smile, and forces his legs to take him up the ramp, away from her.

 

And tries hard not to think of how it felt to walk away from her hospital bed years ago as he forces himself to breathe through the washes of tightly concealed anguish that burn in his gut.

 

He meets Jungkook’s gaze as he walks up the ramp, sees that the male is alone now as he waits for Taehyung onboard of the ship.

 

Meeting the male’s gaze, it allows Taehyung to compartmentalise.

 

“I hope that Luneria is cooler than Solaria, otherwise I’m going to have heatstroke by the time we dock there,” Taehyung greets the other, and winces inwardly at the awkwardness of his own tone as he steps on deck.

 

Jungkook’s raven wavy locks are a bit puffy from the humidity, the flushed rosiness of his skin, and the beads of sweat along the front of his hairline betray his discomfort in his uniform, even if his silver eyes say nothing of the sort.

 

“Once we cross the quadrant line, you’ll notice Luneria’s cooler climate,” Jungkook politely reassures, his hands tucked behind his back, posture looking perfectly composed, despite the tell-tale signs that Taehyung has seen.

 

Taehyung translates, ‘quadrant line’ as this world’s equator in his head, because that is the only way he can understand why there would be a sudden shift in climate, and watches as Jungkook bows slightly to the dock, at where his grandmother is still standing there, watching them.

 

Taehyung can easily pick out the obvious delight in her eyes at seeing them converse – albeit being awkward small talk - and restrains the fond urge to roll his eyes.

 

“We still have a few minutes before departing, would you like for me to show you the resting area below deck?” Jungkook asks him, drawing his attention away from his grandmother.

 

“Sure, that would be great,” Taehyung smiles, hoping that this awkwardness between them will fade quickly.

 

Bickering with the prince is easier than trying to have small talk with him.

 

Jungkook takes the lead, and Taehyung waves a quick goodbye to his grandmother, before he hastily follows, the sounds of their boots mixing in with the sounds of those on board rushing around with crates and trunks as Lunerians with air magic lower them into the hull of the ship.

 

Taehyung has to force himself not to stand and gawk at the first continuous display of magic he’s seen, and matches his strides to Jungkook’s own as the male takes them down wooden steps, and through a metal door.

 

“How long will it take to get to Luneria?” Taehyung asks to fill in the stiff silence between them as they walk along the corridor, trying not to get distracted by the porthole windows they pass as he sees more of the ocean, than the port.

 

“An hour or so? It’s a straight journey, but the waters of the boundary areas in either realm are choppy, so it will be there that we will lose some time,” Jungkook tells him as he opens up another metal door, and holds it open for Taehyung to walk through, before shutting it behind him.

 

Taehyung notes that the resting area is just like your standard seating area inside a ferry, very plain with communal benches and tables fixed to the floor, and nothing remotely royal, considering the walls are plain metal too.

 

Maybe this is where the boat crew come to rest and kill time when they’re not needed from doing whatever a boat needs to be operational, and the Jeons and the other Lunerian higher statuses have their own private areas?

 

What does Taehyung know, anyway? He’s literally a commoner dressed in royal clothing, if he’s being brutally honest with himself.

 

Jungkook walks past him as he unpeels off his jacket with a great sigh of relief as he neatly places it onto as table and himself onto the bench the table is connected to that has a window view.

 

Taehyung blinks, watching as the prince presses his hands to his neck, another sigh of relief leaving him.

 

“Not used to heat?” Taehyung questions as he awkwardly stands there, wondering if he should sit on the opposite the prince, or to sit at another table.

 

Taehyung feels like he’s back at school again, trying to fit in at lunch time, only minus the tray of food and the obnoxious chaos of puberty running rampant in a cafeteria hall.

 

Jungkook turns so that he can look back at Taehyung, and frowns when he notices that Taehyung hasn’t moved, but doesn’t comment on it as he responds with, “I’m used to feeling a lot of shivta magic. Maegee magic feels a lot denser.”

 

Taehyung keeps his expression clear of the confusion he’s feeling at the answer as he hesitantly moves towards the male’s table, moving around it sit on the opposite bench, but not too close to the prince, just in case he’s uncomfortable with the directness of sitting opposite each other in an empty room.

 

“Not a lot of Lunerians have magee magic?” Taehyung asks politely as he peels off his own jacket and places it on the bench beside him.

 

Jungkook is still staring at him, but at least his frown has become looser.

 

Shivta magic prevails more, due to our close connection to its raw current, but maegee magic is still present. You’ll soon understand what I mean when you arrive,” Jungkook answers neutrally, and Taehyung is beginning to pick up on some of the male’s personality due from that alone.

 

Even back at breakfast, Jungkook never once showed that he had a massive ego due to whatever his shivta magic/form is, and even just now, he showed no bias even when discussing his own people.

 

Maybe this is what his grandmother was hoping that Taehyung could learn from the other prince – no bias towards either realm.

 

A loud horn blares above deck, startling Taehyung, but not Jungkook, who only looks at the window as he announces, “we’re leaving.”

 

Taehyung’s gaze joins the other, watching the waves as they begin to lap up towards the window, splashing the glass, as they depart the riviera.

 

It’s a good thing that Taehyung doesn’t have a fear of open water as he watches as the waves move, taking them further out into the ocean.

 

Taehyung only realises when the door they had come through opens and in comes a small crowd of people that both of them have been sitting in silence, staring out of the window.

 

Jungkook doesn’t really respond to the noise, still content in watching Solaria become slowly distant, but Taehyung does as he realises that none of the people milling around the resting area have gold eyes, all a mix of silver or brown.

 

Actually, he hasn’t seen any hint of Hoseok or Namjoon being aboard, and he can’t help the small sinking feeling of panic curdle in his gut at the possibility that Taehyung is on aboard alone.

 

Sure, he hasn’t known the two men long enough, but Hoseok’s face is familiar enough to warrant his anxiety levels to not explode and get him into deep waters of trouble.

 

Clearing his throat slightly, Jungkook’s gaze flicks at him at the sound of it.

 

“Where will I find my companions?” Taehyung questions casually, hoping that none of his inner panicking is showing on his face.

 

“On deck, or in the canteen,” Jungkook says, nodding at the door ahead of them, one that is now propped open as others come and go through it.

 

Taehyung gives the prince a thankful smile, and grabs his jacket as he rises, aware of the silver stare on him as he stands up.

 

“Excuse me, I think I’ll want to be on deck for when we arrive in Luneria,” Taehyung excuses himself as he pulls on the jacket again, hiding his grimace whilst doing so.

 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, just nods in understanding, before switching his gaze back to the window.

 

Taehyung doesn’t linger after that as he calmly hurries himself out of the resting area, and back up onto the deck.

 

Immediately, the scent of the sea greets him, as does the warmth of Solaria’s climate, making him bite his back molars with effort to keep his face neutral and not scrunched up with discomfort as he begins to sweat, once more, beneath his heavy layers.

 

Walking around the bridge of the ship, Taehyung tries not to catch snippets of the passing conversations that he overhears as he passes those lingering on the sides of the main deck, leaning against the railings as they watch Solaria grew smaller.

 

“It’s hotter than I expected.”

 

“And a lot more traditional. You can tell they’re still years in the making of overcoming a dictatorship.”

 

Taehyung forces his feet to swiftly move on at hearing that, not wanting to get other people’s opinions lodged into his head as he walks towards the two backs of who he hopes to be Namjoon and Hoseok.

 

Hoseok turns at the sound of an approach, and smiles at Taehyung, and Taehyung notes that the male’s uniform hasn’t changed other than his compression shirt is long-sleeved now, and he has an actual harness vest on that covers the entire width of his chest and back.

 

“Already tired of small talk with the prince?” the male teases him as Namjoon moves aside so that Taehyung can come to stand between them as the three of them stand at the bow of the ship, staring out at Luneria that still lies a great distance away from them.

 

“I think he’s more interested in watching Solaria slip away than making awkward conversation with me,” Taehyung sighs out as he tries hard not to fidget with his jacket, trying to cool down.

 

“What do you think, Mr Counsellor? You think that is the case?” Hoseok grins at Namjoon, and Taehyung glances at the blonde male that is dressed rather formally in a black and gold tailored suit of silk and thicker material, compared to Taehyung and Hoseok.  

 

Namjoon’s blonde head of hair is also tied back at the base of his neck, a small tuff of a ponytail keeping his appearance neat and presentable, whilst Hoseok’s own hair blows freely around his face, and Taehyung’s own is beginning to stick to his skull.

 

You’d think that Namjoon was the royal prince, not Taehyung, just based on appearances.

 

“I think he’s hiding his own intimidation well of being alone with a fellow guardian without an audience at his back.” Namjoon suggests with a little shrug of his shoulders.

 

Taehyung snorts at that, dismissing it.

 

“Didn’t you feel intimidated?” Namjoon immediately asks him, amused. “Why can’t Jungkook feel the same?”

 

Taehyung scowls at the male. “As if small talk unnerves him. You’ve seen him, he looks like nothing does.”

 

“Says the person that used to act the same way before he gave himself a near death experience,” Hoseok counters with a nudge of his elbow to Taehyung’s arm. “The only reason why you’re no longer like that is because you can’t remember how to be like that.”

 

Or, I was never that way in the first place, but I get what you mean, Taehyung thinks to himself as he takes in Hoseok’s meaning.

 

“I still don’t truly believe that Jungkook can be intimidated around me, but I’ll give it the benefit of doubt,” he admits as he uses his sleeve to dab at the sweat collecting on his temples.

 

“You should really go back inside,” Namjoon murmurs, his gaze kind. “You won’t last the full journey out here in your uniform. Follow Jungkook’s lead.”

 

Taehyung would rather not return alone and sit in amongst strangers that already have formed an opinion of him before he can form one on them.

 

“I’ll be fine, the breeze is helping,” Taehyung lies as he feels more sweat run down his back.

 

“I’m sweating my pits off, so I know that your own are a mess,” Hoseok states as he tugs at the neck of his compression shirt. “I don’t mind parading my title so that the Lunerian population can immediately identify who each of us are when we pass through the capital, but I wished we could’ve changed halfway to avoid the discomfort.”

 

Taehyung waits until the male notices his pointed stare, and when Hoseok does, he makes an, “ah,” sound.

 

“Once we dock, we’ll be led through the capital by Jungkook and his own warriors. It’s to broadcast both of you being of equal standing and that relations between both realms are underway,” Hoseok explains.

 

“So, a lot of staring and whispering,” Taehyung deadpans tightly. “Great.”

 

“If it makes you feel any easier – it’s a casual walk through town,” Namjoon interjects softly. “The Lunerian people aren’t expecting grand speeches from you both just yet, just their first glimpse of unity.”

 

“How come we didn’t do that?” Taehyung questions, frowning. “Why did we throw a formal party?”

 

“Different culture expectations?” Namjoon muses as he meets Taehyung’s inquisitive gaze. “Solaria has always harboured behaviours that are very extravagant, whereas Luneria has been more laidback. It might still be the same for them, nowadays.”

 

Taehyung recalls the whisper that he overheard earlier of Solaria being, ‘traditional’ and is starting to agree with the stranger – Solaria may have been trying to undo the damage done in the past, but they have yet to overcome behaviour that still shows echoes of a class system.

 

Before Taehyung can say anything, a horn from behind them, coming from the bridge, slices through the sky with its deep call, startling all three of them as they turn in unison to look up at the bridge at where a male is holding the silver object as he blows into it yet again.

 

The second call brings forth something else too, causing Taehyung to gasp as it feels like he’s being submerged in ball of rippling water, his senses tingling from it, as he feels magic come from all directions as people around them respond to the horn.

 

“What’s going on?” Taehyung questions as he feels the two males on either side of him step closer to him, flanking him.

 

The scene answers him as, one by one, people dive off the sides of the ship, causing the three of them to gawk at the suddenness.

 

“Wait, I feel-” Taehyung cuts himself off as he feels a surge ripple through the air and turns and rushes to the bow of the ship, grabbing the railing as he leans over, following what his body is telling him to look at as Hoseok and Namjoon join him.

 

There, down in the waves that rush up at the front of the ship, shadows move.

 

“Water shivtas,” Hoseok murmurs in an awed voice, leaning to try and get a clearer look through the waves. “They must be aiding the ship.”

 

“By transforming into water?” Taehyung sharply questions, and Hoseok nods, still transfixed. “How is that even possible?”

 

The ocean answers for him as two spirals of water shoot up ahead of them, the cascading, spinning, water connected to bodies that are completely made of water.

 

Taehyung can’t help but gawp at the display as they dive back down, merging with the ocean.

 

“The water is hard to transverse through where the barrier would stand,” comes the voice of Jungkook’s mother as she joins them at the bow, looking regal even with the wind blowing at her. “The water in Luneria is a lot rougher, compared to the smoothness of Solarian waters. So, we often have designated crew members that assist in combating against those rougher currents, allowing for safer travel.”

 

More shadows beneath the waves flank the front of the ship to do whatever it is they do to make it easier for the ship to move.

 

“You three may want to join the rest of us below deck, things tend to get wet once our shivtas are in the water,” Jungkook’s mother suggests with a smile, and beckons with a tilt of her head for them to join her.

 

And since she is the Queen of Luneria, all of them politely trail after her, and go back down the stairs that Taehyung had only just come up a couple of minutes ago.

 

However, instead of heading for the main door at the far end of the corridor, she opens up one of the doors to their left and leads them into a much smaller rest area that is clearly designated for the royal family.

 

“You can rest here until the horn blows again, then you can return back to deck to see Luneria more easily,” she tells them as she moves to sit down one of the three comfortable-looking sofas where Jungkook’s father is sitting, reading a book.

 

Jungkook isn’t here, and Taehyung’s tongue runs before he can halt it. “How come Prince Jungkook sits in the other rest area?”

 

“It’s habit now, I guess. Jungkook is so used to sharing common space areas with crew and his warriors when out on the sea,” Jungkook’s mother answers with a thoughtful hum. “Or, we’re terrible company and he prefers to be amongst peers and comrades.”

 

Namjoon and Hoseok laugh lightly at the teasing smile on the queen’s lips, whilst Taehyung further absorbs the shared characteristics that he seems to share with the other prince.

 

Neither of them particularly seem to enjoy flaunting the privileges that come with being a prince, which could be a future area for Taehyung to use to his advantage in making things less awkward with the other male.

 

Which he may do now if it means he can avoid sitting with Jungkook’s parents where he doesn’t have to internally fret about what kind of questions they might ask him.

 

“Come on, sit down. You should be resting to prevent another drop from happening so quickly after another,” Jungkook’s father speaks up, eyes on Taehyung’s stiff form, as he gestures to the sofa opposite the one that he’s sitting on as he places his book to the side.

 

Taehyung feels a subtle nudge in the middle of his spine where either Namjoon’s or Hoseok’s hand has managed to effectively move to without being noticed, and he obliges the older male’s advice as he sits down across from him.

 

“You can also remove the jacket,” Jungkook’s mother adds with a little knowing smile, making Taehyung’s flushed skin flush harder at wondering how truly uncomfortable he must look for everyone to be commenting on it.

 

“Solaria’s winters are cool, but they’re very short,” Hoseok – the saint that he is – begins the small talk amongst them all as he remains standing, along with Namjoon.

 

“Luneria’s summers are short and humid, but our winters are bitterly cold, hence for the need of your heavier attire. The Void favours breaking open onto the far sea to our compound,” Jungkook’s father shares with a slight grimace.

 

Taehyung is fine with this. Seoul is absolutely frigidly cold in the winter with its minus wind chill further adding to the freezing misery.

 

“You’ve been able to predict its entrance points?” comes Hoseok’s stunned voice, and Taehyung glances to see both of his comrades looking it.

 

Maybe Taehyung is missing something, because to him, that makes sense that the Lunerians have managed to do so – Solaria was the one that messed with the balance of magic whilst they didn’t, until that unbalance began to mess with things on their side.

 

But, he doesn’t say anything, despite it making sense to him, than it does to Hoseok and Namjoon.

 

“Our access to both types of magic remained steady whilst yours crumbled. Our analysts have been studying the Void for centuries, assisted by our guardians and warriors, of course. We’ve learnt some remarkable differences between both realms as a result,” Jungkook’s father politely explains, thus proving Taehyung right.

 

It was Solaria’s own doing that they face unpredictable attacks.

 

A quick glance at Namjoon’s face shows rapt interest, while Hoseok’s own looks still stunned.

 

“Just because we can predict a target area, doesn’t mean that we can always predict the volatile nature of each attack,” Jungkook’s mother clarifies more on her husband’s answer. “Since we’re so close to the current of shivta magic, it often means we deal with those types of attacks.”

 

“Good to know that our suspicions are correct on that front – we get both, but more so maegee attacks,” Hoseok hums as he absorbs it all, connecting to what he’s seen, and what Taehyung has yet to.

 

“Our analysts have long suspected that either realms are naturally tied to the closest current, and when such current is disrupted, it falls to the closest realm to mend it. In Solaria’s case, the class system that limited both types of magic to flow and be used disrupted the Maegee Current. Whereas, in Luneria’s case, our barrier between both realms meant that, over time, the Shivta Current was unable to naturally flow through to Solaria,” Jungkook’s father looks to his wife. “Jungkook’s shivta form and magic has also allowed our analysts more access into learning more of the Void.”

 

Taehyung notes the slight way Jungkook’s mother’s gaze on her husband narrows, silently communicating, before she looks to them and gives them another one of her kind smiles.

 

“Once we’re at the compound, yourselves and Jungkook with his own warriors can learn about each other’s range of abilities and skills, and learn from each other.”

 

Taehyung knows for a fact that he will definitely be learning, but he’s not so sure Jungkook or anyone else can learn something from him.