For Peace

19. End in Sight

The day the group was supposed to reach the ritual place dawned. It came with a pink sky stretching over the heathland and clouds cast in a golden hue, creating a divine sight. The balmy air brought the promise of more thunderstorms later, but the breeze had yet to carry the rumbling clouds on the horizon closer. Instead, it rustled in the leaves and carried the dancing white thistle seeds to get stuck in Wooyoung's hat.

Seonghwa was nervous. Months of journey ended here. Both his hope and his endurance allowed only this last attempt. If God truly had destined him to deserve no healing, he would rather spend his last days with his friends than drag Mingi around to prolong the involuntary. He wouldn't want to die with the regret of bringing the companions here to get hurt. They should find their peace in health.

The anxious coil of his stomach robbed him of his appetite and was strong enough to numb the ache in his chest.

The crunch of his companions' feet on the dry grass assured him he wasn't alone. Whatever happened and whatever sinister plan Mingi might scheme, they would be there to look out for him.

Seonghwa had been clutching the sword Jongho carved for him in his fingers all day. Their crusader was exhausted, barely coherent, though his state didn't worsen. Seonghwa hoped he knew what strength he provided. Hopefully, as soon as he was healed, Seonghwa could do the same for him.

The wounds of his hands and feet had scabbed over. Thanks to Hongjoong's unceasing caution in carrying the priest unless he slept, the wounds hadn't reopened and found time to heal despite their trip through nature. Though they were still horrid to look at, Seonghwa was lucky they proved his survival. He had prayed lots to apologise to God for the blatant frivolity of mimicking His son, even when it hadn't been Seonghwa's choice. A scar would remain to remind him of the dreadful Reds.

Aside from Seonghwa, the other comrades were apprehensive as well. They expected another twist of fate. The lack of a shrine, an ambush, Mingi laughing at their faces because he never planned to help them. Seonghwa couldn't tell which was worse, but he knew any of those options would reap him of his last light. He saw no purpose in life if it treated him so cruelly; if it left him no space to get back up on his feet to carry on.

Hongjoong would disagree. He would argue kindness was Seonghwa's virtue and his purpose.

But Hongjoong didn't know how difficult it was to upkeep it.

Wooyoung grumbled into his chest where he had been thumbing the tip of his drooping hat near his shoulder all morning. His scowl was almost as impressive as Hongjoong's.

His skin healed slowly. Hues from pink to black covered him all over, and in some places, his flesh lay bare and infected. The less burnt spots peeled and with his yellow lacerations, he made for a pitiful sight. He had groaned all night when he tried to sleep, and even the weight of his blanket pained him. Since he had to stay on his back all night and couldn't curl up, sleep evaded him and punished him with deep circles under his eyes.

Though the lutin claimed to be fine whenever Seonghwa as much as worriedly glanced in his and Jongho's direction, Seonghwa felt his pain resonate in his smile.

"Want a berry?" San asked he lutin when he couldn't come up with a better way to show support. The gnome grumbled but took some blueberries San and Yunho had picked earlier. They had been gone for a suspiciously long time, so Seonghwa assumed they were back on track. This time, hopefully with a healthier understanding of each other's wants than last time. Their breakup hadn't quite split the group, but it had been painful to watch.

Wooyoung angrily munched on his berries. Once his fistful was gone, San offered him more without uttering a word. Another fistful was devoured.

Nervous, San glimpsed between his basket with berries and the ravenous gnome. He snuck a few when the lutin wasn't looking, afraid he would eat them all.