haven - zb1

1

"Wow, thanks for the history lesson, uncle," A young boy dryly remarked. He was slung across a narrow sofa, an open book resting on his stomach abandoned. His features were sharp and distinct, his double-lidded eyes glowing with contempt. His uncle, mouth still ajar from completing the story, hardly looked taken aback, rather exasperated. The man beside him cast a cold glance at his distasteful behaviour. "Quanrui, please be more polite to my father," He quietly chided. He was much older, composed and seated with an air of regalness, the deep red of his clothes accentuating his pale skin. The fireplace crackled uneasily as the youngest boy shifted from his relaxed position, "As if you haven't heard this shitty story so many-"

A scarlet ball of fire shot towards Quanrui's face, the boy's quick reflexes raising two fingers to prevent an otherwise searing injury. Quanrui scoffed, "Wah, Jiwoong, bold of you to use your powers in an enclosed room. Look, you could have burnt my book!" The two looked like they were ready to start brawling, fiery tension heavy in the air, before the third aged man in the room heaved a sigh. His wrinkled, tanned hands rubbed his temples as he said, "How will the two of you take care of yourselves and each other when I'm gone?"

Quanrui, sensing the change of tone, immediately shrunk back, becoming gentle and obedient, "Apologies, uncle. But you can count on me to keep our dear Jiwoong out of trouble-"

"I'm much older than you you brat-"

"No more fireballs, you'll burn my-"

"Boys."

Silence fell, the two ceasing their bickering and returning their attention to the older man. "You two will be leaving in less than a week. I do hope you two will be civil, as you two will only be able to trust each other when you go to the Celestial palace."

Solemness overcame the two boys, Jiwoong looking determined as he assured his father they would be alright. Quanrui looked through the little window, where, beyond the vastness of the forest they were enclosed by, he knew, their future lay ahead.

-

"Zhanghao. I love you with every fibre of my being, but I am not willing to give up half of my trunk space for your cello and your violin. Pick one!"

"Woohyun ah, just let him bring only his violin. That's his most precious thing anyways."

Three boys were situated in a large spacious room, a frosty chill hanging in the air. Zhanghao, the violin-cello enthusiast, sat cross-legged on a bed, cradling a violin with the tenderness of a parent. Opposite him, standing before a painted wooden chest, was a flushed Woohyun. Watching the action and sprawled behind Zhanghao was Hanbin, a playful grin dancing on his lips.

"You two are so mean to me," Zhanghao dramatically cried, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead in mock exasperation, "Fine, fine. Just the violin." His deft fingers slipped a sleek violin into its worn case before commenting, "Well, I don't supposed I'll actually have time to play. We'll be training with the others, right?"

Woohyun, who finally could stop his desperate attempt to reserve his trunk space, carefully sat on his trunk in thought. "I don't actually think it'll be that bad. I think it'll be fun! It's crucial we form good relations with the other heirs."

"That's optimistic. Remember when we were young and your father came back from a meeting with a burn on his arm?"

Zhanghao set down his violin, his light expression gone. "That's why we have to make a good impression and not start fights, Hanbin. And besides, if any of us get burnt, I'll heal it so let's not worry about that."

A rumble of thunder shook the trio out of their daze. Zhanghao winced apologetically, then shook his head. "We're leaving in four days. Let's try and finish packing so we can clean this mess of a room."

"I will remind you, the majority of it is your mess, so-" A pillow flung harshly at the face was enough to muffle Woohyun's complaints, and the boy surrendered to silence.