To The Edge Of The Sky| VMinKook

Chapter 14

Jineheung pov

"Are you really convinced the Byun won't launch an attack on us? We're far from ready for a fight," Yeo-wool remarked, glancing anxiously at the rest of the group. A heavy silence descended upon them, and soft sighs echoed in agreement. So-hoo, unable to resist the opportunity to poke fun, shot a teasing grin at Yeo-wool. "What's the matter, are you scared, Yeo-wool? I had no idea the mighty wizard had such a fragile heart!" 

His words lingered in the air, full of mischief, but before Yeo-wool could muster a response, Banryu, sitting nearby, delivered a swift smack to So-hoo's arm, a warning to keep the teasing to a minimum. The camaraderie among them was palpable, layered with both concern for their safety and the banter that occasionally lightened the mood amidst the looming threat.

"Just stop it and focus on what we're here for," I urged my friends as we approached the imposing Byun residence, the grandeur of the house looming overhead. "So this is where our prince lives... what a stroke of misfortune." 

So-hoo's face was etched with a look of pity. "He is our prince—the future king! You should not feel sorry for someone whose status far surpasses yours when you consider yourself a mere servant," Banryu shot back, his voice dripping with disdain. So-hoo looked at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend the harshness of Banryu's words.

Suddenly, Suho emerged from the grand entrance of the opulent lobby, his presence captivating as he was flanked by his equally striking friends. He held himself with an air of cool authority, his sharp jawline and confident stance commanding attention. "May I know why you've decided to intrude upon our privacy?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow slightly as if assessing the situation and the unexpected visitors.

"It seems we meet again," Sungwoo remarked, stepping forward with a swagger that caught the light. His voice was smooth and deliberate, laced with just the right amount of challenge. His eyes sparkled with a blend of amusement and defiance, suggesting he was more than ready for a verbal spar.

Baekhyun, leaning casually against the wall, chimed in, his tone light but firm, "Can't say we're very pleased about it." His playful demeanor contrasted sharply with the tension hanging in the air. I couldn't help but chuckle at the banter, the witty exchanges wrapping around us like a lively thread that momentarily cut through the awkwardness. 

"You're just as amusing as ever," I remarked, my gaze locking with Baekhyun's. His expression was one of barely concealed boredom, but beneath it lay a flicker of mischief waiting to be ignited.

"And you're just as annoying as you were then," he retorted, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, which was a familiar sight that brought forth a wave of nostalgia. Just as the atmosphere began to thicken, Chanyeol pulled Baekhyun closer, his large hand resting on his shoulder as if to ease the brewing tension between us. The camaraderie among them was palpable, and for a moment, I felt enveloped in the warmth of their friendship amidst the charged encounter.

The air between us crackled with an electric tension that entwined rivalry and camaraderie, creating an atmosphere ripe for the unexpected. It was as if the very walls of the room were holding their breath, bracing for what would unfold next.

"Get to the point. Why are you all here?" Sehun demanded, his sharp gaze cutting through the gathering like a knife. His intensity was palpable, demanding answers with an urgency that made it clear he wouldn't tolerate any nonsense.

With a slight smirk, Sungwoo stepped forward, breaking the silence that hung heavily in the air. "We are here to meet the prince," he announced, his tone confident yet teasing as if he relished the suspense he was stirring.

Sehun's expression shifted; curiosity flickered in his eyes as he pressed for more. "Why all of a sudden?" His voice carried a note of skepticism as if he was probing for hidden motives beneath their seemingly casual visit.

"It's two weeks before the blue moon," Sungwoo replied, his nod suggesting that the significance of the event was not lost on any of us. The mention of the blue moon cast a deeper shadow over the gathering, hinting at the weight of tradition and expectation. With that understanding, he waved us inside, the door creaking open to reveal the dimly lit interior that awaited our presence.

"We want Taehyung back," I declared, my voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a sharpened knife. The room fell silent, and every pair of eyes turned toward us, wide with disbelief and fear. The tension hung thick in the air, palpable and heavy, as if we were standing on the precipice of something catastrophic.

"You can't control Taehyung when he changes—" someone murmured, their voice laced with uncertainty.

I stepped forward, desperation fueling my words. "We don't have to control him. We need to let him take charge of himself. His power isn't meant to be locked away; it can't always be contained within him like a wild animal caged. That's not how this works."

Before I could articulate my thoughts fully, Sehun's voice thundered through the charged atmosphere, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Don't be so foolish!" he admonished, his tone fierce and unyielding. "By letting him control his own destiny, you're merely giving him over to the ruthless clutches of death, just like the rest of us who have fallen prey to this chaotic world." His eyes, usually a calm shade of brown, now swirled with a vivid intensity, betraying the tumult within him—an unsettling reminder of the ever-present dangers that loomed around us. The chilling truth of his statement hung heavily in the air, a dire warning that pounded against the walls of our conviction, beckoning us to listen.

Sooho's face tightened with frustration and desperation as he stepped forward to confront Sehun. "But the harm you inflict by capturing him will lead to his demise as well!" he exclaimed, his voice reverberating off the walls of the cramped space around us. Anger laced his words, each syllable weighted with the urgency and fear that consumed him. "Locking him away from the world he was never meant to be a part of won't dissolve the curse that binds him!"

With a fierce glint in his eye, Sehun shot back, "Taehyung is not a curse!" His rebuttal rang with fervor and unwavering conviction, a stark contrast to the bleakness that surrounded us. "You can't speak on matters you know nothing about! Taehyung is innocent—he has no—"

Just as the tension reached its peak, the atmosphere around us shifted, and a voice pierced through the palpable silence. "What's going on?" The question hovered in the air, pulling our attention away from the escalating confrontation.

All heads turned toward the source of the sound, a collective gasp escaping as they focused on the entrance. Bathed in the dim, flickering light, Taehyung and Jungkook stood framed against the doorway. Their unexpected arrival seemed to amplify the already charged atmosphere, a palpable tension thickening the air. Taehyung's face displayed a turbulent mix of confusion and concern, his brows furrowed deeply as he surveyed the scene before him. Beside him, Jungkook exuded a protective aura, his stance wide and assertive, as if bracing for whatever tumult awaited them.

I couldn't help but scrutinize the boy standing near me, my gaze drawn to his hands, which were intertwined—delicate yet tense with barely contained anxiety. He looked disoriented, the world around him seemingly blurring into indistinct shapes and colors, as if he were trapped in a moment that stretched painfully long. But then our eyes met, and an electric charge sparked between us, jolting him back into the present. I watched in awe as his formerly deep black irises morphed into an enchanting crystal gray, reminiscent of shards of ice glimmering in the light, capturing both warmth and chill in their depths.

"What is he doing here?" I pondered silently, a sense of unease washing over me like a cold wave. The air grew colder, and I felt his intensity seeping into my bones. His expression shifted abruptly; the softness faded away as his gaze hardened into a sharp, unforgiving glare that pierced through the charged atmosphere. A low growl rumbled deep in his throat, and it sounded like distant thunder, ominous and perilous. The thick tension hung heavy between us, almost tangible, leaving me acutely aware of the fragile boundary that separated our worlds, teetering on the edge of chaos.