Chapter Text
Baekhyun should have stayed home that day.
He should have stayed home, there in his worn-down leather armchair tucked away in the attic. With a book balanced between his knees and his feet propped up on an old wooden trunk, there was not a care in the world that could have shaken him from that spot.
Flipping to the next page, Baekhyun murmured as he read aloud. “‘The reason birds can fly and we can't is simply because they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings.’”
He huffed at the words. It was a silly notion, he thought, to pretend people could ever fly of their own accord. Why pursue the impossible dream, when the practical reality could serve you just as well?
“You must have your head stuck in that book of yours again,” a voice said behind him, and Baekhyun jolted upright.
“Mum,” he laughed, folding the book in his lap. “I didn’t hear you come upstairs.”
She smiled at him, affection crinkling at the corners of her eyes, and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Your dad wanted me to tell you that dinner should be done in about an hour. He’s making your favourite.”
Baekhyun inhaled, inflating when he registered the familiar scent wafting up from downstairs. “Bubble and squeak.”
“When you were growing up, we never had to remind you to eat your vegetables,” his mother recalled, beaming, “because you always gobbled them up! I remember one time, you — Baekhyun! How many times have I told you not to put your feet on there?”
A gentle swat at his shoes was enough for Baekhyun to curl into himself, while his mother tutted and tsked at the crumbs of dirt coating the wooden chest.
He grinned sheepishly, planting a kiss on her cheek in apology. “Sorry. I always forget.”
The woman brushed aside her grey-streaked hair and rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “You incorrigible boy. You know we treasure that thing almost as much as we do you.”
“Just because you found me in it? You’re not usually the sentimental type.”
“And apparently I’ve raised you to be the exact same way,” she agreed, her fingers lingering for a moment longer over the rusted lock. “But I can’t erase the image from my mind of you as a baby, showing up on our doorstep inside of that old trunk.”
“Glad you decided to adopt me instead of leaving me there to rot,” he joked dryly as he stood and stretched his stiff limbs. He’d been wedged between the rigid arms of that chair for hours now. “Anyway, it’s a piece of junk, Mum. It doesn’t even open anymore — a little bit of dirt won’t hurt it.”
She rolled her eyes once more, but seemed to drop the subject as she handed him his coat. Seeing his raised eyebrows, the woman sighed. “You forgot about your meeting, didn’t you?”
Baekhyun’s eyes blew open, and he smacked himself on the forehead. “I’m an idiot! What time is it?”
“A quarter past five. If you run, I’m certain you can make it on time.”
As his mother watched him complain and struggle to put the oversized black coat on over his work suit, she patiently held his book for him.
“The Little White Bird,” she hummed while staring at the cover. “That doesn’t really sound like your type of book. Wasn’t this written over a hundred years ago?”
The young man shrugged, trying to hide the odd streak of self-consciousness fluttering inside of him. “The title sounded interesting. I’ve heard it has social commentary in it, and... Well, I was curious, that’s all.”
If his mother noticed anything off about his pathetic defenciveness, she didn’t mention it, instead handing the battered book back to him with a teasing grin on her face. “Are you sure you don’t want to take this with you? Maybe do some light reading during the meeting?”
“I doubt Taeyeon or her father would appreciate that.” He chuckled at the thought while adjusting his scarf around his neck. “Besides, I’ll have plenty of time to read later tonight after the meeting is over, and I hopefully get that promotion.”
Tossing the tattered novel onto the wooden chest, he darted down the attic stairs, not bothering to glance back.
If he’d known then that he would never get the chance to read the book again, perhaps he would have brought it along after all.
Baekhyun’s father was enthralled by the evening news — some report about an oil spill in the Caribbean — and he let out a sound of protest when the brunet dashed in front of the television.
“Wish me luck, Dad!”
The reply was a soft grunt, but it was all Baekhyun had time to wait for as he whisked out the kitchen door, his figure a mere blur passing through the house. Shadows were beginning to fall as sunset neared, so Baekhyun paused a moment in their humble garden — barren from the January frost, though he’d never really had a knack for gardening anyway — to check his wristwatch. He still had twelve minutes to get to the bank.
The brown-haired boy bit his lower lip thoughtfully. He could, in theory, take his usual route to work and make it on time. Although with it being nearly half-past five, pedestrian traffic was likely to be fairly heavy, and he didn’t want to ruin his suit or new dress shoes by running around the city streets.
That left him with only one option: Kensington Gardens.
As he rounded the corner, the sprawling park came into view, and Baekhyun gulped. In the daytime, it was truly a sight to behold, with its pristinely-crafted fountains, ponds, and lawns. But once the sun sank below the horizon, the gardens transformed into another world, one that only Baekhyun seemed to be aware of.
His early memories were fuzzy, but the boy’s recent years were filled with occasions of strolling through the garden's pathways by himself and suddenly being surrounded by inexplicable orbs of light. They always appeared iridescent and shimmery, like bubbles bouncing around between the beds of flowers. Baekhyun could recall a time from when he was nineteen and he’d wandered off the path after dark, only to be absorbed in a warm glow of golds, purples, and blues. His own skin had even seemed to shimmer, and he had scrambled away from the alien orbs with the fervor of prey hiding from its predator.
That was over seven years ago, yet Baekhyun still found himself shaking like a leaf as he approached the spiked gates to the gardens. The path ahead was well-lit, and the sight of children playing there with their parents was enough to ignite a spark of courage inside the young man.
He forged ahead, now with only seven minutes to spare.
The setting sun dusted the crowded lawns in bold and brilliant swaths of red, but Baekhyun chose to keep his gaze fixated ahead. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flicker of lavender light. He glanced over, but of course it was gone.
He sighed, because no matter how many times he’d tried to get closer to the lights, they always seemed to dart away the moment he got too close. And conveniently, his parents had never believed him when he’d pointed out the glowing orbs, nor had his university friends. So he’d taken to ignoring the orbs altogether, like he was now as more and more sparks of the mysterious lights appeared. They were on either side of him, above him, all around him, to the point where their dazzling colours almost completely blocked his view of the sky.
No one else took notice.
Now he was running, dodging the children that darted across his path as best he could, and the heaving of his chest was a good distraction from his surroundings. He could see the exit up ahead, just beyond the last few stray orbs — close, so close. He spurred himself onwards, releasing the oxygen he’d been holding in with a mighty gasp as he flew past the gates.
An old woman selling balloons regarded him in wild concern, perhaps because he had scarcely avoided careening into her and her cart at full speed, yet he had no time to worry about the reactions of passersby. The face of his watch taunted him with the time: two minutes left.
“All of this has happened before,” the old woman told him with a kind smile on her face. “And it will all happen again.”
“Um, alright,” Baekhyun replied with an unsure nod. He glanced down the street, gulping at how close to his destination he was, and waved at the woman as he sprinted off. “Well, thank you.”
The grandiose white pillars of S&M Financial Bank were like centurions on guard, glaring at Baekhyun as he bowed his head and scuttled between them. The amount of steps felt more numerous than usual, and by the time he was standing before the ominous oak doors of the conference room, he was certain his skin was cast in a sheen of sweat.
One last glance at his watch: five twenty-nine. Baekhyun smiled triumphantly and pushed open the doors.
“Mr. Byun!” rang a voice as deep as a cannon erupting. “Right on time, as usual.”
Baekhyun pushed the corners of his lips upwards, smiling as wide as he was able. “Well, you know what they say, sir. ‘Time isn’t the main thing, it’s —’”
“‘It’s the only thing,’” Mr. Lee finished, not bothering to hide his impressed expression. “Miles Davis, is it not? Very good, Baekhyun.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m honoured that you asked to meet me this evening.”
“My pleasure,” was the expected polite response, although the older man had already turned his attention to the mounds of paperwork in front of him. “Have a seat, son, while I finish getting out some of these forms.”
As he sank into one of the expensive leather seats lining the table — far fancier than his modest armchair back home — Baekhyun finally got the chance to meet the eyes of his girlfriend next to him.
Taeyeon, petite and soft-spoken, was nothing like her father and his larger-than-life personality. She wore more makeup today, he thought, and she had curled her hair. Baekhyun wondered if she’d done it for him, or if she looked this pretty every day. He suddenly couldn’t remember.
“Nervous?” asked Taeyeon upon seeing his contorted expression.
He schooled his face into a poster-perfect smile and shook his head. “Only a little.”
She nodded at him, satisfied, and he opened his mouth to speak again — to say what, he wasn’t sure, but just to say something . He was cut off, however, by the pronounced sight of Mr. Lee taking off his own wristwatch and placing it gently, as delicately as if it were his own child, on the mahogany table.
“It is now five-thirty,” Mr. Lee said, his thin eyes staring deep into Baekhyun. “Shall we begin?”
✧············✧············✧
When the heavy metal doors of the bank splintered open, Baekhyun was hit by wind so cold it could have torn right through his bones and sliced him to ribbons. However, with his girlfriend by his side and the promise of an increased paycheck in the very near future, Baekhyun wouldn’t have cared even if a tornado was tearing through the building. He was on cloud nine, and he was only flying higher when Taeyeon looped her arm through his and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.
“Hey. Congratulations, you,” she smiled, and Baekhyun decided that she was this beautiful every day.
“Thanks. ‘Branch manager’ still sounds a tad too big for me, but I’m sure the title will grow on me after I have a bash at it,” he winked. “Say, would you want to come over and have dinner with me and my parents? Dad’s making bubble and squeak.”
“With Brussels sprouts? Oh, that sounds wonderful,” Taeyeon remarked wistfully. “But I can’t. I need to help Father with the merger that’s coming up. He’s been really stressed about it lately, so I’m surprised he was on such good behaviour this evening.”
“I guess he just really likes his daughter’s boyfriend,” Baekhyun suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
Taeyeon laughed in agreement. “What’s not to like? Hey, I’ll see you later. Okay?”
“Oh. Yeah, alright,” Baekhyun said, barely finding the time to kiss Taeyeon on the cheek, once, before she disappeared back inside the austere building.
He sighed: his time with Taeyeon felt so brief these days. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was a recent occurrence, or just a recent realisation on his part. They’d been dating for four and half years now, yet it was almost like they were content with dipping their toes into the wading pool, when they should be plunging into the water head-first. It wasn’t as if there was something missing from their relationship, or as if they were doing something wrong; rather, it was that Baekhyun had nothing to compare this relationship to, so he had no clue if he was, in fact, doing everything right.
Another sigh escaped him as he descended the steps of the bank, and with Taeyeon no longer blocking half of the wind, the cold was brutal enough to begin creeping in through his big black coat. He shivered and tucked the collar up around his neck, feeling a little too much like a noir character for his personal liking.
He waddled down the boulevard and eyed the shops on either side of him, groaning because most of them still had their Christmas decorations adorning the storefront windows, right next to the new 2019 calendars. Baekhyun despised seeing the holiday displays past New Year’s, so leaving them up a whole fortnight after that should be written off as a criminal offense.
Baekhyun reached for his phone to call his parents, but soon realised that in his rush to reach his meeting on time, he’d completely forgotten to grab it. Thankfully, he spotted a phone booth nearby — one of the red ones, which London tourists seemed to fawn over like they were holy shrines — and he slipped inside, rummaging through his pockets for some spare change. A few coin clinks and number punches later, the dial tone could be heard in Baekhyun’s ear, followed closely by his mother’s chipper voice.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“Mum, it’s me,” Baekhyun said, and a smile crept onto his face despite the cold compressing around him. “I just got out of the meeting. I aced it!”
From the other end of the line, his father let out an excited whoop. “Smashing, son!”
Baekhyun grinned. He could imagine his parents with their ears pressed to the phone speaker.
“I’m so proud of you, Baekhyun,” he heard his mother say, and she sounded like she was on the verge of tears. “A high position at one of the finest banks in the city, and more connections to the financial world than anyone else your age. This is exactly what you’ve always wanted.”
Is it?
As the thought entered his mind, Baekhyun felt his smile falter. He didn’t know why the words were lingering, making him feel small and cramped inside of that phone booth. He suddenly couldn’t breathe, and he wished he could break down the glass walls boxing him in.
“Baekhyun?” his father’s tinny voice said in his ear. “Son, you alright?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine, Dad. Just fine.” And suddenly Baekhyun’s perfect smile was back, plastered on his lips as if there was someone else around to see just how happy he was. “Listen, I’m about to head home. Have you two eaten yet?”
“No, dear, we’ve been keeping dinner warm for you. We’ll wait until you get back.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”
He heard his parents congratulating him once more as he set the phone back in its bed and pushed his way out into the bitter weather.
It was colder now, a result of the sun having entirely vanished from the sky. Baekhyun stared upwards and realised, for perhaps the first time in forever, that he couldn’t see a single star from here. It seemed obvious, being buried this deep in the city, and yet — how could he have never noticed? Was he really that busy, that he failed to look up once in a while from his own two feet walking down the pavement?
He watched his feet now, watched as they carried him back to Kensington Gardens. The fear and apprehension he typically felt were absent for once, and instead the young man experienced a tugging sensation in his gut, like the park wanted him to venture through those wrought iron gates.
If nothing else, I’ll certainly make it home faster for dinner this way, he thought to himself. He wouldn’t want to keep his parents waiting. His stomach growled at the thought of a steaming hot plate of potatoes and greens set out on the table, and he hesitated not a moment longer before entering the park.
Unfortunately, he would never make it home in time for dinner.
Sitting on a bench near the gate was the old lady Baekhyun had nearly collided with earlier. She was bundled up against the cold, and her gnarled hand lingered on a vending cart connected to a bundle of brilliant balloons.
She smiled at him, asking if he’d like to buy one, and he shook his head silently. The boy disliked spending money on frivolous things, and he was still haunted from the humiliation of almost causing an accident with the elderly woman before his bank meeting.
“I’m sorry about earlier," he said. "That was rude of me."
The woman grinned once again, as if she hadn’t even heard the apology, and repeated her previous line she’d told him. “All of this has happened before, and it will all happen again.”
An unshakable feeling of anticipation slid down Baekhyun’s back, curling around his spine and making him grow rigid. The woman kept smiling at Baekhyun, her glossy eyes looking right through him.
This time, he said nothing as he walked away.
The families that had been lingering across the lawns around sunset were gone now, replaced by the smattering of light orbs dancing around through the air. Curiously, Baekhyun felt no tremor upon seeing them, even as they grew denser in number the further into the gardens he trudged. Their vivid colours were like specks of neon paint flung across a black canvas, and Baekhyun couldn’t recall ever having seen a sight more beautiful.
Is this what stars were supposed to look like? He couldn’t help but wonder.
Then something most peculiar happened: the lights seemed to bend, travelling from all points in the park to cluster together in a long, extended archway on the ground. Baekhyun stopped in his tracks, eyeing the formation.
It was a path.
A path woven of the luminous orbs that beckoned to him with their pure and brilliant light, which Baekhyun felt compelled to follow. Maybe it was because the colours were so enchanting, or maybe he was tired of having no answers and only questions.
Maybe Baekhyun wanted to see if there was something missing in his life after all.
The glittering globes seemed to increase in iridescence as Baekhyun stepped between them, as if delighted that he had finally chosen to trust them. He followed the pathway of purples, blues, and golds with trepidation across the lawn, off the pavement, and into the thick of a grove of mulberries. This area was removed from the familiar warmth of the parks’ lamp posts, and the overhang of the trees blocked out any city light that may be able to creep in otherwise. Were it not for the overwhelming presence of the orbs ablaze, Baekhyun would have been submerged in near-total darkness.
Which is why, when a scream was heard from nearby and the mysterious lights blinked out, Baekhyun had to fight the urge to cry.
In contrast to the magnificent hues that had dazzled his eyes before, the world was now devoid of all colour, filled with only the haunting cold of night. That blood-curdling scream still rang in his ears, as loud and crisp as a church bell. He hugged his arms around himself, wishing for the first time in his life that the peculiar orbs of light would return.
“Let me go!”
Baekhyun heard that same male voice cry out, and suddenly his frozen form was melting, becoming more fluid as he took one step, then another. Soon he was walking, jogging almost, and peering through the inescapable darkness to search for the source of that sound. He wasn’t sure where this curiosity was coming from, but he recognised it as the same feeling that had fueled him earlier in choosing to follow the glowing lights away from his typical path.
Another scream — now Baekhyun was close enough to let it guide him through the darkness. No, wait, it wasn’t completely dark. There, up ahead, just beyond that sprawling oak tree, he could spy three figures grappling on the ground. Two wooden lanterns lay beside them, illuminating their struggle.
Baekhyun’s breath caught in his throat. This was his last chance. He could run away now, return home to his parents, and his favourite meal of bubble and squeak, and his cosy chair up in the attic. No one would ever know the difference.
The now-familiar voice let out a final cry for help, and Baekhyun could see who it belonged to: a blond fellow around his age, who was being tackled to the ground by two other men. Baekhyun had seen the victim’s face, and he knew in the depths of his soul that he had to help him.
Without a moment more to plan or think or even breathe, Baekhyun let loose a war cry that rattled the brittle leaves on the trees.
“Ahhh!” he yelled, running full-speed at the males crouched on the ground, his arms flailing and his face twisted into a snarl.
So startled were the two perpetrators that they lost their balance and were knocked back onto the grass, their eyes blown open wide with panic. The male on the ground took his cue to run and darted forwards, cutting off Baekhyun before he could approach the other two men any more.
“Thanks, kiddo,” the winded young man gasped, sweat pouring down his face as he gripped Baekhyun’s shoulders.
Baekhyun eyed the two men, who were still only a small distance away, and saw that they were beginning to recover from their initial shock. “You’re welcome, I suppose.”
But at the sound of Baekhyun’s voice, the man with the graceful features looked up at him, and his face was filled with more disbelief than either of the two other males’.
“You,” he whispered, his tone hoarse and strained. “You can’t be here.”
Baekhyun felt his throat tighten with terror. “What?”
The blond had no time to answer, for the two attackers from earlier were now rising to their feet.
“Luhan!” barked one of them, a short fellow with round eyes and hair shaved nearly to the scalp. “Send this human boy away. Do not be such a coward that you must use him for a shield.”
“Yet you’re the one hiding behind your guard dog Zitao for protection,” the male by Baekhyun’s side taunted.
Baekhyun glanced automatically at the second attacker — Zitao, the so-called guard dog — and felt a shiver scurry down his spine. The young man was tall and foreboding, with dark-tinted eyes that made the boy tremble. His features were cast into obsidian shadows by the light of the lanterns at his feet, and he seemed to wear a permanent scowl, no matter how long Baekhyun stared.
“Do not be careless with human life, Luhan,” the first attacker that had spoken warned. “You made that mistake once before, and you would be wise to avoid repeating it.”
The first fellow, Luhan, stiffened at Baekhyun’s side, and the boy wished he understood what the hell was happening. Who were these people? Why did they keep referring to him as human? What else could he possibly be?
“Ignore the boy,” Luhan said, and he seemed to have finally regained control of his breath. “I know that you came here to deal with me, and only me.”
“So?” demanded the tall male with a growl, and Baekhyun scrambled back a step from the severity of his tone. “Where the hell is it then?”
A sigh left the blond man then, like the sound a tire makes when it’s being deflated. “How many times do I have to tell you dumb pirates? I don’t have your stupid treasure chest!”
Pirates? Baekhyun’s head was beginning to spin. What was all of this madness?
“We know you know something,” the shorter of the two enemies said, his voice significantly softer than his partner’s. “We must report back to the Captain, and he will no longer accept empty information.”
“Alright, Kyungsoo. Then tell Park to shove a sword up his ass,” Luhan suggested with a wry grin. “I’m sure he would love that.”
The tall, sinister-looking young man let out another animal-like sound of warning, and before Baekhyun knew what was happening, Luhan was grabbing him by the wrist and running away. The boy had no choice but to sprint after him, for it was either that or be pummeled to death by Zitao and Kyungsoo, who wasted no time in chasing after the pair.
Baekhyun had already expended too much energy on running that day, so he was out of breath by the time he and Luhan broke from the grove of trees and into the wider glade. He had a dozen questions he wanted to ask of the man gripping his arm, but being low on oxygen, he managed to huff out only one.
“Where are we going?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Luhan called over his shoulder, finally releasing the boy’s bony wrist. “For now, we just need to concentrate on losing those bastards.”
Although he knew he shouldn’t, Baekhyun spared a glance over his shoulder at their pursuers. Kyungsoo was further behind, running at a constant pace, while Zitao was gaining ground on them at an alarming rate.
Seeing that made Baekhyun gulp. “That might not be happening anytime soon.”
When Luhan saw the short distance that the goons had on them, he uttered a curse so filthy Baekhyun had to wince. Then, as they reached the paved path and the lamp posts lining it, he threw out his hand to the side, as if pushing someone away.
What happened next was enough to rattle Baekhyun’s faith in science itself.
The metal lamp posts, with their flames ablaze inside, began to warp and bend, like stiff serpents stretching after a long sleep. The tall poles twisted around Zitao and Kyungsoo as they got closer, knotting around the pair as easily as rope.
When they were about a playing field away, Baekhyun’s shock hit him, and he stopped in his tracks.
“How... That doesn’t make any sense.” He glanced at Luhan to gauge his expression, but the other was as calm as the still night air. “You didn’t do that, did you?”
“No time for questions. Those posts won’t hold them for long.”
Sure enough, the short and tall young men were already wriggling free from their cast-iron binds.
Baekhyun turned to Luhan, to ask him where they should run to — perhaps even to ask why they were running — but he never got the chance. He was staring at him with his big doe-like eyes, an earnestness in them which Baekhyun had never seen the likes of before.
“Hey, this will sound weird, but... Will you trust me?”
“What?” Baekhyun felt flushed. “I barely know you. What do you need me to trust you for?”
A clang was heard as Zitao unsheathed his sword — where had he gotten a sword from anyway? — and began to use it to pry himself from the grip of the lamp post. It bent too easily, like clay being moulded by hands, and Baekhyun knew it wouldn’t be long before he was free.
The blond turned to Baekhyun again. “Baekhyun. I need you to trust me.”
He frowned. When had he told Luhan his name?
Another screeching sound was heard as the metal of the lamp post was ripped apart, its captive unleashed with a mighty cry. Zitao fixated his bloodthirsty gaze on them, and he rushed forwards with his weapon brandished high above his head.
Baekhyun heard Luhan sigh in exasperation, and he watched as the other grabbed a velvet drawstring bag from his pocket. “I didn’t want to do this, but you’re not leaving me with a lot of other options.”
He opened the bag, revealing its contents of miniscule specks. It looked like sand, but golden and glittering, and when Luhan emptied out some of it into his palm, Baekhyun felt something stir inside him.
“What is —”
Luhan tossed his hand across Baekhyun’s form, letting the dust sprinkle all over the boy’s body, and he gasped at the cool sensation of it tickling his skin. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck began to stand on end, as did the hair on his head, and his clothes, too.
Baekhyun looked down at his feet. They were no longer touching the ground.
“I hope you haven’t developed a fear of heights,” Luhan said with an apologetic smile.
The comment was barely heard by Baekhyun as he continued to float upwards, like he was a flower being plucked from a bouquet. “What did you do to me?”
“Just consider it an escape route,” Luhan hollered up at him, and if Baekhyun didn’t know any better he’d think the other was laughing at him. He didn’t have a chance to scold the other male, however, because the tall bloke with the sword was only a few steps away from Luhan.
“Luhan, look out!” Baekhyun warned.
It was almost as if said-male had been anticipating the attack. He waited until Zitao swung his sword at him, a taunting look on his face, before whirling around and transforming.
That was the best word Baekhyun could pin to what he was witnessing, anyway. Luhan shrunk inwards, like one of those wooden nesting dolls, until he was the size of a teaspoon, no more than fifteen centimetres. The most uncanny characteristic was that he had sprouted a dainty pair of wings, as delicate as that of a butterfly, and had begun to glow.
Baekhyun’s heart was beating far faster than it ever had before. He was tumbling through the air slowly, an astronaut in space turning head over heels without rhyme or reason. It was only when Luhan fluttered up to him and grabbed his shirt that Baekhyun was able to stop spinning and orient himself.
“You look a little woozy there, kiddo,” Luhan chuckled upon seeing the other’s expression. His voice came out high and tinkling, like the sound of wind chimes being brushed by a breeze. Ordinarily, it would have made Baekhyun laugh, but he was feeling a little too regurgitative at the moment for that.
“What the dickens is happening?” whispered Baekhyun. He wished he could grab onto the other male for support, but feared that he would simply squeeze too tight and crush his tiny form. “What did you do to me?”
A violet hue surrounded Luhan, and its brilliance ebbed and flowed like a heartbeat. “What does it look like, Baekhyun? You’re flying!”
“That’s rubbish. People can’t fly,” he managed to protest, despite the nausea planting itself in his stomach.
Down below, Baekhyun heard an audible gasp. Kyungsoo had also finally broken free from his confines and joined his more evil-looking friend, their faces turned upwards to the pair hovering in the sky.
“You have witnessed things you should not have,” the former said in a grave voice, while Zitao simply gawked at Baekhyun, sword hanging limply by his side.
At first, Baekhyun assumed the foreboding words were directed at Luhan, but the pair of ruffians weren’t even sparing him a glance. Their attention was focused solely on Baekhyun, and the severity of their gazes washed across him like the first signs of a brewing storm.
“Good luck catching up to us on your shabby little rowboat!” Luhan shouted down to them, breaking Baekhyun from his chains of fear. “And remember to tell that demented captain of yours that I send my regards.”
Once again, Baekhyun felt himself being tugged away by Luhan, although this time the male’s tiny fists only had to give a gentle pull for the other boy to follow. Luhan lifted them upwards, leaving behind Kyungsoo and Zitao’s grim faces, the contorted lamp posts, and Kensington Gardens.
They ascended higher and higher, and Baekhyun couldn’t fight the urge to peek, despite the winter wind whipping itself around him. Down below, he watched the bank, his house, his whole world shrink until they appeared to be even smaller than Luhan. He stared at them until there was nothing left to see, and the cold air began to prick tears from his eyes. He wiped them away, allowing himself to take in the view.
Never had he seen London like this before, although he doubted that many had. The city was all aglow, cars rushing down the boulevards and shimmering lights dotting every street corner. It was hard to identify specific buildings from this high up, but he was able to easily spot Big Ben in all of its illuminated glory, and the London Eye not too far from it. They followed the path of the Thames, the river guiding them past the Gherkin, and they even dipped beneath the Tower Bridge. Baekhyun shrieked when his feet skimmed the water’s surface, and Luhan hoisted them back up again, the city now disappearing behind them.
“Take a good look, my friend,” Luhan called down with a laugh, as if he’d been watching Baekhyun soak it all in.
Seeing so many of the city’s famous attractions was making the boy realise that he had never even visited most of them, and the rest he only recognised from books and movies. What had he been doing all his life that he had failed to explore his very own city? After living in London for twenty-six years, he had even less to show for it than a tourist would.
“It’s beautiful,” Baekhyun finally admitted in awe.
His gaze then fell on a darker portion of the river, where the famous clipper Cutty Sark was proudly on display. Despite the lack of illumination at this end of the Thames, Baekhyun spotted the ship’s outline and sails. What he didn’t recognise, however, was the second ship bobbing in the water nearby.
“What’s that?” asked Baekhyun, pointing down at the unfamiliar ship.
A scowl overtook Luhan’s features, and he forcibly looked away from it. “Don’t worry about it.”
The lack of lights forced Baekhyun to squint at the ship, which became clearer the closer to it they flew. It had black sails, and he could make out the white Jolly Roger symbol embroidered into a high-flying flag. Baekhyun had read enough books to know the emblem when he saw it.
“That’s a pirate ship, innit?”
“Don’t worry about it, kiddo.”
Something in Luhan’s voice betrayed him, allowing Baekhyun to see past the facade of nonchalance.
Fear.
They were passing the black-sailed ship now, and Baekhyun could see people milling about on the top deck, like ants rushing around in the dark. Cannons lined either side of the handrail, and swords gleamed under the pale light of the moon.
“It is!” Baekhyun realised, feeling somewhat dazed. “Then that ship must belong to Kyungsoo and Zitao. You called them pirates, didn’t you?”
At the front of the ship stood a figure, tall and broad, who resembled a pirate more than any illustration Baekhyun had ever seen. The man was clad in red, making him stand out from the other pirates like a blot of ink on parchment paper.
Luhan seemed to notice the scarlet pirate as well, and he surprised Baekhyun by spitting in the man’s direction.
“They’re pirates, alright,” he said through clenched teeth. “Scum of the Earth.”
Baekhyun felt a rush of exhilaration now, some of the pieces coming together. “And that must be their captain! What was his name again? Park?”
“I said don’t worry about it!” Luhan finally snapped.
The excitement budding in the pit of Baekhyun’s stomach suddenly shriveled up, for it was the first time that he had heard the other male sound so cross. He tried to hide his nerves, but the little sigh that Luhan let loose showed he’d failed.
“Listen, I’m sorry I yelled at you. But believe me when I say that you don’t want anything to do with those pirates. Especially that madman of a captain.”
For a brief moment, it felt like the man in red was staring directly at them, and Baekhyun felt an inexplicable urge to glide down to the pirate ship.
What did he do to Luhan to make him so scared? the boy wondered, though he refrained from voicing the question.
Below them, the ship with black sails slowly faded into the night, until it was no longer discernible from the churning river beside it.
“Forget those gits now,” Luhan was saying in his tinkling voice. “When we reach home, you’ll have more fun than you can possibly imagine.”
The blond’s smile was huge, as if to make up for the way that he’d shouted at Baekhyun, but the boy barely registered it. His thoughts were on home — his home, not Luhan’s.
“I want to go back,” he suddenly said, voice so soft that it was snatched away by the wind. He looked at Luhan and waited for the other to receive his gaze. “Take me to 100 Bayswater Road.”
Luhan’s enthusiastic grin faded, and he shook his head regretfully. “I’m sorry, Baekhyun, but I can’t do that. You’d only be in danger if you went back there.”
Those words were not what Baekhyun wanted to hear right now. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need any of this.
“It wasn’t a suggestion!” he exploded, startling Luhan enough that they staggered mid-air and fell for a moment. Baekhyun should have been afraid, but he was furious, and cold, and tired of pretending like he knew what was happening to him.
“And how do you know my name, anyway? I didn’t introduce myself. More importantly, who are you? What are you? I don’t know how you’re doing this, this floating thing —”
“Flying,” Luhan corrected, and Baekhyun gritted his teeth.
“Whatever. I don’t know how you’re doing it —”
“It’s kind of like swimming, but in the air.”
“Whatever! I want you to stop. I want you to take me back home, and I want you to tell me who those blokes chasing us were.”
“In that order? That doesn’t make much sense.”
Baekhyun smacked his own forehead in annoyance. “You know what I mean. I want answers, and I think I deserve them.”
Luhan regarded him with an expression akin to pity. “You’re right. You do deserve answers. But I can’t give them to you.”
The boy scowled, crossing his arms and tugging his long coat closer to his body. “Why not? Won’t you at least tell me where we’re going? ”
A lopsided smile was the reply. “Damn. You never run out of questions, do you?”
That was enough to shut Baekhyun up. He glanced down, expecting to identify more of the sites that he was familiar with, but the world was now so far below them that the boulevards and buildings had blended together into a picture that rather resembled a computer grid, city lights streaking across the pitch black Earth in luminescent stripes. It made his heart ache, although he couldn’t pinpoint why.
After a few more moments filled with silence, he felt Luhan tap him on the shoulder, a delicate sensation like being nudged by a raindrop. The small winged fellow pointed ahead of them, where two white patches of light were hovering in the sky. Baekhyun initially believed them to be more glowing orbs — creatures like Luhan, whatever he was — but he soon realised that they were actually stars.
Stars. So, he truly saw them so little that he even failed to recognise them when they were right in front of his face.
“That’s where we’re going,” Luhan called to him with a smile. “The second star to the right, and straight on ‘til morning!”
Baekhyun wondered if Luhan always spoke in riddles to confuse people, or if he was the exception; certainly, they were not actually travelling towards a star. The journey would take lightyears, and it was physically impossible to accomplish without burning up at some point.
Before he had a chance to point out these impracticalities, however, he felt Luhan knot his hands into the thick fabric of his coat. Baekhyun raised an eyebrow in question, and the blond smirked knowingly.
“You might want to hang on tight. This next part can be a right bumpy ride.”
The brunet fought the urge to argue that the whole ride had been right bumpy so far. Subsequently, he had little room for snappy comments when the pair appeared to arrive at a jet stream, and the forceful gust of wind launched them both into the sky like they were pebbles being slingshotted into oblivion. He heard the male by his side let out a whoop at the sudden burst, while Baekhyun kept his eyes shut tight. They were aimed straight at the white burst of light that Luhan had pointed out earlier, and although he knew realistically they wouldn’t hit it, he was none too eager for the consequences of the collision.
As abruptly as it had begun, the sound of the winds whipping him around were muted, replaced instead by a calm stillness. When Baekhyun eventually peeped an eye open at his surroundings, he was unable to hold back a gasp.
They had arrived at a place where the sky melted into the water, where the stars were mere buoys bobbing across the waves. Spread out beneath them like a quilted blanket was an island, drifting alone in the midst of a sea of stars. Six rough peninsulas stretched out from its centre, and Baekhyun’s eyes couldn’t move fast enough to register all the geographic features scattered across its surface: waterfalls, forests, beaches, mountains, jungles, and even a desert. He recognised that it wasn’t feasible for so many natural formations to exist in such close proximity, and yet there was the proof right in front of him.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” asked Luhan in that bell-like voice of his.
Baekhyun shook his head in bewilderment. “I thought London was beautiful, but this ... What even is this place?”
“Welcome to Neverland, Baekhyun,” Luhan said, a twinkle in his eye. “Or, I should say, welcome back.”