Chapter Text
Prologue
“Banishment.”
The word rang through the hall, echoing all around the tall pillars.
“Do you understand what this means, Adept?” Another voice spoke up, its tone no different from the other that had uttered the dreaded words. “Your existence will be struck from the records. Your possessions will be sent to the ash chamber. The Rank you once bore proudly will carry a black mark for generations to come, lest your family severs their ties to you.” There was no trace of sympathy in the words.
The Adept raised his head to meet colorless eyes. “Of course, your Eminence.” Something flickered at the edge of his thoughts. Fear? Apathy? It lingered, for a moment, before fading.
A third voice spoke from deep within its cowled robe. “Death, perhaps, may be kinder--”
“Death is too much of an honor for a murderer,” another voice interrupted coldly.
A murmur of agreement rippled across the hall.
“It is decided then,” the first voice spoke once more. “Let this be announced throughout the city. A Ranked Adept has been found guilty of all his crimes, and will be banished. Anyone found to be consorting or showing any form of sympathy will be considered an usurper of our rules and laws, and will be shown no leniency.” This time, the murmurs took on a displeased tone, spreading amongst those watching. A cold gaze was cast towards those gathered below. “The Tribunal has spoken.”
The Tribunal is Law. The Tribunal is Order. The Tribunal is Peace.
As the Adept was led back to his cell, he observed his guards. They were silent, flanking him on both sides as they kept up a steady march back. Step, step, step. He remembered them well - their names and their faces, the jokes they made when they were first sworn into the Academy - but now, they stared straight ahead, faces stiff and seemingly etched from stone, refusing to look at him. He could sense their fear. They were afraid of him. He considered asking them if they still liked to play games.
Not yet, the voice whispered in the dark. Patience.
He stayed silent.
Chapter 1
“One day, a stranger appeared on the horizon. He spoke a language unlike ours, and his manner and dressing were nothing we had seen before. Grandfather would have had him sent away, out of fear, but mama stopped him. It was mama who stood tall and fearless in the village hall and reminded the people of their hearts: their hearts, which, had turned cold and brittle as the recent winters that had struck our world, the very winters that had taken papa from us; yet she stood there, her own heart still full of warmth, full enough to offer kindness to this man with eyes as white as the frost.”
- Excerpt from the forgotten journals of Byun Sooyeong
The ball flew through the air, hurtling towards the other end of the crudely marked off yard. Between two stone posts, the keeper leaned against one of them, his eyes half-closed as if he was about to doze off. For a moment, it looked as if the ball was set to fly past him; everyone held their breaths, anticipating.
The keeper let out a yawn.
The ball ended up off-course, landing on the ground and bouncing merrily. It rolled across the smooth, grey surface, slowing down before coming to a complete stop on the other side of the courtyard.
A collective groan rose from the small group that was gathered along the sides, echoing across the town square. “That’s not fair, Sehun!” someone shouted. The keeper shrugged, crossing his arms as a bored expression appeared on his face, as a light breeze ruffled his hair.
Baekhyun hurried past the group. He ducked his head slightly, to avoid being seen, but someone caught sight of him and called out his name. Quickly, he raised his hand, giving them a small, apologetic wave before hastening his footsteps. On any other day, he would have stopped to join them, or lingered around the area to catch up with the latest bit of gossip. Sometimes, he would sit at the sides to watch the games, stealing a few moments of rest before returning to work.
Today, however, was different.
Further up front, he ducked into a low archway and emerged into a narrow corridor with a low ceiling. Here, he allowed himself to slow his steps, catching his breath. As he walked, he trailed his hand along the walls that lined the corridor. The tips of his fingers traced the curved indentations and spirals that were etched into the smooth, cool surface. No one knew where they had come from, or why they had been there, but there had been rumors that they were secret messages left behind from the Old World. Of course, he had forgotten about those thoughts as he had grown up, his child-like curiosity replaced by the mundane tasks of an adult.
Finally, he stopped in front of a heavy set of doors, the familiar carvings on the wall above setting them apart from the plainer ones up ahead. When he entered his home, carefully pushing the doors shut behind him, a middle-aged lady emerged from the kitchen, a tray in her hands.
“Any luck with the doctor?”
“He’s attending another patient, but the nurse said she’ll pass along my message immediately.” He shrugged off his coat, flicking off the dust that had collected on the material during his brief sojourn into the heart of the colony, and hung it on the coat rack nearby. “Has he woken up yet, Sooyoung?”
“I peeked into the room but he was still sound asleep.” Sooyoung dropped her voice to a low whisper. “Who is he? And where did he come from? Oh, Baekhyun, he looks like he’s been in some sort of terrible accident.” She shook her head, worry lining her forehead.
“I’m sure he’ll tell us in due time,” Baekhyun assured her gently. “Right now, the only thing we can do is wait for him to recover.” He took the tray from her, despite her protests. “Don’t worry about it, Sooyoung. Here, why don’t you take a rest, and I’ll bring this to him.” He paused. “See if you can whip up something light for him to eat too. He looks like he hasn’t eaten in awhile.”
“I’ll get to it right away, ” she said, patting her hands on her apron before hurrying off.
The door leading to the back room was closed. It took a fair bit of careful maneuvering to slide the screen aside while balancing the tray in his hands. Eventually he succeeded, and stepped over the threshold to enter the room, sliding the door shut behind him.
The room had once been a study of sorts. Journals lined the shelves that had been installed against one side of the room, a thick layer of dust covering them. Nearby, a low table held a variety of artifacts and strange objects that he had never managed to figure out their purpose. There was a small bed here, too, placed so long ago when the room had been turned into a storage place. Before this, it had served as a makeshift space for the crates of books that Baekhyun’s family had collected over the years - but at this moment, instead of those books, there was someone lying in it, fast asleep.
Baekhyun had found him, hours ago, unconscious but badly injured. It had taken some effort to carry the man out of the tunnels, and Baekhyun had had no choice but to half-drag him, half-carry him along, pausing every once in a while to catch his breath.
As Baekhyun watched, the man stirred in his sleep, muttering. He caught a few words, and frowned. It sounded familiar, yet he couldn’t quite place where he had heard those words before, spoken in a tone that seemed strangely soft and melodic.
Baekhyun took another step closer, with the intention of catching the words again. His hip bumped against the edge of the table. Water sloshed over the rim of the clay jug, splashing merrily onto the tray he held in his hands, onto the hands that were clutching the same tray tightly. A few drops landed up on that sleeping face.
The man woke up.
Blinking in confusion, he glanced around him before his eyes landed on Baekhyun standing nearby, frozen in place in shock. It took him a few short moments before the man’s eyes widened and then he attempted to sit upright.
“Wait--” Baekhyun began, but his words were cut off by the sharp hiss of pain as the man folded over in his position, clutching his knee with his bandaged hands. Another painful sound escaped him.
Baekhyun stepped closer, intending to help, but the movement attracted the man’s attention.
He shrank back warily, his eyes narrowing. Baekhyun stopped moving. “Look, I’m not… I won’t hurt you, okay?” he said, trying to sound soothing. “Don’t-- don’t be afraid.”
Baekhyun waited for him to speak, or respond - but when it was clear that he was not about to say anything else, Baekhyun slowly took another step.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said in what he hoped was his most reassuring voice. “I’m just--I’m just getting you something to drink, see?” He placed the tray down carefully, and reached for the jug - slowly, very very slowly - and tilted it slightly. A thin trickle of water began to fill the cup with clear drinking water before setting the jug back onto the tray. He picked up the glazed cup, handing it out towards the stranger. “Would you-- would you like some?”
The stranger eyed the cup in suspicion. His hands stayed in his lap.
“It’s just water,” Baekhyun assured him. An idea occurred to him, and he lifted the cup to his lips, sipping from it. “See? Perfectly safe.” He held the cup out towards the man.
He received another look. This one felt strangely tinged with skepticism, before the man looked down. Baekhyun’s gaze followed, settling on his thickly bandaged hands and it occurred then why he had made no move to take the cup.
“Oh.” Baekhyun could feel his cheeks turning hot. “Sorry, uh, let me help you with that.“ He shuffled closer towards the bed, and, feeling almost as if he were still approaching a wild animal, slowly raised the cup to the man’s lips. He expected a rejection at first, but to his surprise, the stranger leaned forward and took a cautious sip, while his eyes stayed locked on Baekhyun’s face.
“More?” Baekhyun asked, once the cup was empty. The stranger’s expression still stayed the same, apprehension lingering around the edges, but Baekhyun could see how his eyes shifted slightly to look at the jug on the tray, before he shifted them back.
Without waiting for a reply, he refilled the cup. This time, the man accepted the drink more eagerly, the long line of his throat working visibly as he tipped his head back when Baekhyun pressed the cup against his lips once more, letting the water slide into his mouth. When he was satisfied, he settled back against the pillows. He looked more refreshed than he had been earlier, although the mistrustful expression had returned to his face. Silently, he studied the poorly wrapped bandages on his hands with a critical arch of his eyebrows.
Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Baekhyun rubbed the back of his neck. “I did what I could to clean your wounds, but unfortunately I’m no doctor.” The man’s gaze was sharp and piercing - as if he were studying Baekhyun, assessing him. “I called for one, though. He should be showing up soon to take a look at you-- ” He broke off, and laughed nervously. “Here I am, talking away -- but, ah, you can’t understand what I’m saying, can you?” Baekhyun tried to grin at him, to ease the mood a little and received another blank stare. Quickly, he turned his back on the man to set the cup back down onto the tray, while trying to distract himself from making a bigger fool of himself.
“Thank you.”
Baekhyun almost dropped the cup, startled. “I… uh… you’re welcome,” he stuttered, taken aback. The man could speak, after all. He glanced back at him, noticing that the wary expression he had been wearing earlier was now replaced by one of curiosity.
The man looked around the room, as if studying it idly, before settling his eyes back on Baekhyun. “Where is this place?”
“It’s-- it’s my home. I found you in the tunnels earlier and brought you here.” He paused. “You… were bleeding badly.”
The scrutinizing look returned. “You… brought me here. To your own home.” His voice sounded somewhat hoarse, perhaps from being exposed for too long to the air above. There was a soft, lilting quality to it that caught Baekhyun’s attention. “Why?”
“Well, I couldn’t just leave you there.” Not only had the stranger finally spoken, he could understand Baekhyun’s words perfectly. The few people whom he had encountered from outside the colony had had difficulties communicating with the colonists, their accents deep and guttural in comparison. Wherever the stranger had come from, he sounded nothing like them. While his speech seemed halted, as if he was unsure of his pronunciation, the same melodic tones he had heard earlier when the man was talking in his sleep was still there, lingering at the edge of his words.
The man blinked, as if confused by his answer. “Most would not go out of their way for a stranger.” He leaned back against the bed, a perplexed look on his face. “You are… odd.”
“Uh…” Baekhyun faltered, unsure of how to respond to that. “What--what’s your name?”
A long pause. “Minseok.”
“Minseok,” Baekhyun repeated. “I’m---”
“Byun Baekhyun, you better have a damn good reason for making me come all the way here at this hour,” a voice boomed from outside the room.
“And that’ll be the doctor,” Baekhyun remarked dryly just as the screen was heavily pushed aside, followed by someone climbing over the threshold and stomping into the room.
He stopped in front of Baekhyun, and leaned closer to peer at him suspiciously. “You don’t look like you’re dying,” he said sourly.
“Never been healthier, thanks to your wonderful ministrations, o’ wise Jongdae,” Baekhyun told him airily.
“Your message said ‘dire need of medical attention’,” Jongdae snapped, before he caught sight of Minseok. “Who’s this?” The annoyed expression began to melt away from his face, replaced by one of curiosity.
“This is Minseok, your newest patient,” Baekhyun answered, as he gestured dramatically at Minseok. “I found him in one of the tunnels up north.” He dropped his voice, looking away from Minseok to whisper to Jongdae, this time serious. “It looks like he’s got a broken leg, so I did what you taught me before and made a splint for it. But his hands… they were cut pretty badly. I did what I could.”
Jongdae grunted in response, but he nodded and moved away, stepping closer towards Minseok. “Let’s have a look at them."
He hmm’ed and hah’ed, running his fingers along Minseok’s leg, pausing at the knee several times. “Looks like a dislocation instead of a break. Lucky for you, I can reset it, but you’re still going to need to keep it immobilized for a while.” He eyed Minseok’s poorly bandaged hands, and turned to give Baekhyun an exasperated look.
“I tried,” Baekhyun said, feeling defensive.
“Proving again why you’re the worst assistant I’ve ever had,” Jongdae muttered, as he began to unwind the cloth from Minseok’s hands, revealing his wounds.
“It’s not pretty, I’d admit,” Baekhyun said, noticing Minseok’s grimace at the sight. “I tried my best, but I didn’t want to make things worse.”
“For once, you actually did the right thing,” Jongdae retorted. “Look,” he added, this time addressing Minseok, “I’m not going to mince words. You picked up a really bad infection from something that was probably floating around Outside. I can treat your hands, but that means I’m going to have to cut the wounds open again in order to clean them, before stitching them up. That’s going to hurt even worse than the knee.”
“What’s the alternative?” Minseok asked.
“You lose your hands.” Jongdae shrugged. “It’s your choice, but personally I wouldn’t recommend the second option.”
Minseok’s expression flickered slightly, but then it was replaced by one of casual indifference. “Do it, then. I can handle a little pain.”
Jongdae rolled his eyes visibly. “A little pain, he says,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Right, let’s deal with the knee first.” He looked at Baekhyun. “You got any whisky?”
* * *
Minseok drifted. He felt weightless. It was strange, he thought, to be floating like this. It seemed like he was no longer in his own body. For a moment, he wondered if Lu Han was playing tricks on him again, switching his sleeping arrangements in the middle of the night. He considered hunting down his oath-brother and freezing his hair for revenge.
He drifted along, still caught between worlds. He was moving through a rocky expanse now, no, walking, limping. His hands and feet hurt, his head throbbed painfully, like a thousand hammers pounding from the inside. The air was thick, filled with a heavy sort of heat that he had never felt before, and he wondered if he would find someplace to rest soon. He was tired - so tired, he thought, and exhausted.
The expanse faded to a mountain range, and then a cave. The opening was too small a fit for a normal-sized humanoid - but Minseok still managed to squeeze through it anyway.
There were falling rocks; something struck him. The ground gave way instantly, and then he was falling; slipping and sliding deeper into the darkness. There was pain - nothing but endless pain - and in between all of that, a soft laugh that echoed all around him, then a glowing light--
Minseok’s eyes fluttered open, and he found himself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. For a moment, he stared in confusion at the rocky surface, disorientated. This was not the priceless white marble of the Academy, nor the ice-blue metal furnishings of his home in Xeia, nor even the dank grey cells they had kept him in while he awaited trial. This was somewhere else.
As he shook off the remaining fog of sleep that clung to him, he began to recall his dreams. Which, now that he thought about it ruefully, were not dreams, but memories. The prison transport he had been sitting in had announced its final descent, entering Earth’s atmosphere. There had been an announcement delivered over the speakers in an emotionless synthesized voice - informing all those onboard to brace for landing. Two seconds later, the transport had shuddered, and a low, horrible grinding sound had been heard throughout the ship as the emergency klaxon began to blare. Minseok had been in his cell, a small narrow space where he had barely enough leg room, when the prisoners in the other cells began to panic, their shouts and yells barely heard over the alarms.
Then, a loud explosion had rocked the ship, echoing through the corridors, splitting it half.
Later, he would wonder about it, about how calm he had been when he was surrounded by chaos. Later, he would wake up alone, bleeding, alive -- while the sun shone hot and cruel on his face and dust and toxins filled the air, his lungs and throat. The escape pod lay scattered on the ground around him , in pieces. Nothing could be salvaged. Not that he wanted any part of it, afraid that even a small fragment on his person would lead the trackers directly to him.
The transport ship was nowhere to be seen. He had no intention of looking for it. Minseok was sure that they would send out search parties to look for survivors soon enough - and he wasn’t about to sit there and wait for them to recapture him. He would rather take his chances with the planet. There were people here too, he remembered. He had read about them, during one of his anthropology classes. Descendants, from those who had survived the devastation on the planet. Savage. Dangerous. He would take his chances with them too.
It felt warm - too warm, in fact. Instinctively, he reached out, seeking the cold, hoping to wrap it around him for a little needed comfort and felt…nothing. Now he remembered. He no longer had his ability. The impossible had happened, and now he felt as weak as a newborn, unsure of his steps in the world, without any means of protection at all.
A desolate feeling began to grow within him. The years of training hadn’t prepared him for this. His ability was a part of him, as important to him as breathing - and to have it completely cut off from him made him feel... empty. It was like having a part of him ripped off, the pain far worse than anything he had ever felt his entire life.
Sighing, he leaned back, trying to keep his mind away from the trap of despair. It would do him no good to go mad now, not when he still had some of his wits with him. He was still alive - although, he remembered now, he had injured his leg during his fall inside the cave.
Someone had saved him. He remembered a young man, with bright eyes, and a childish smile that seemed to light up his entire face. Floppy hair. Fingers that were long and delicate, untouched by any sort of menial labour. What was it the doctor had called him? Byun Baekhyun.
Minseok attempted to get up. A wrenching pain pierced his leg, starting from his knee, spreading across his thighs and reminding him of his injuries. With a grunt of effort, he ignored it, pulling himself into an upright position. Finally, he succeeded in sitting up, his back pressed against the stone wall behind him as he pushed down the blankets that covered the lower part of his body. His leg was in a cast. He eyed it apprehensively. He had read of this primitive method before, when he had been in his second year of training. It was a way to keep the injured body part from moving about and causing further injury, but he remembered thinking why couldn’t one simply send for a Healer Adept to fix the problem.
He leaned forward and tapped the cast lightly. At least it seemed sturdy, if inconvenient. He couldn’t imagine trying to move around in this without some sort of assistance, not with the bulky thing attached to his leg. The doctor - Jongdae, he recalled the name now - seemed to have a terrible bedside manner, but he had done a good job treating Minseok’s wounds, stitching them with surprising gentleness. He could feel the effectiveness of whatever medicine or salve he had used on them, although Minseok would take a long time to recover from feeling sick every time he thought of how his wounds had looked before.
The door that led into the room slid aside. Startled, Minseok looked up, his body growing tense.
“Oh, you’re-- you’re awake.” It was Baekhyun. Byun Baekhyun, the human who had saved him. His hair was still floppy, but he looked less tired than he had been yesterday. The smile was still on his face, bright like the sun. “Jongdae said he gave you something earlier for the pain. I thought you would still be sleeping.”
Minseok relaxed a little. “I was, for a little while.” He paused, noticing the tray in Baekhyun’s hands, filled with a small earthenware pot and two bowls. “What’s that?”
Baekhyun was looking at him with a shy smile. “Dinner,” he answered, stepping into the room and making his way towards Minseok. “Sooyoung’s left us some stew.” He set the tray on the table beside the bed, and lifted the cover on top of the pot.
Instantly, Minseok was hit by an assortment of heavy spices, the scent filling his nose. He watched as Baekhyun began to scoop out the thick, hot broth with a ladle into both bowls. He was about to hand one to Minseok when he paused. “Ah… I forgot about that,” he said awkwardly, his gaze landing on Minseok’s hands.
Minseok raised them, casting a critical eye at the bandages. “These do make it a little difficult to feed myself,” he agreed dryly.
“Well,” Baekhyun told him, grinning suddenly, “I suppose I have the honor of doing it for you, then.” He sat down, on the edge of the bed, holding the bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other.
Minseok stared at him. “I’m not a baby,” he responded in irritation.
“Of course you’re not,” Baekhyun said easily, lifting a spoonful of stew to blow on it lightly, before holding it up to Minseok’s lips. “Say ‘ah’.”
Minseok looked at him stonily. He was about to refuse this… coddling, when suddenly, his stomach growled in response.
Baekhyun’s smile grew wider.
For a long moment, Minseok stared disdainfully at the spoon, then at Baekhyun’s impish smile, and then back at the spoon again. “Just one bite,” he said, finally giving in. He tried not to wince as the smile grew brighter.
It was still too hot, and Minseok burnt his tongue slightly on the first sip. But it was delicious. One spoonful of stew turned to two, and then another; before he noticed, he had already finished the entire bowl.
Baekhyun seemed almost smug as he scooped another portion for Minseok. This time, Minseok refused it. “You should eat,” he pointed out. “Not just me.” They went back and forth about it, until Baekhyun relented.
Minseok watched him while he ate. Baekhyun, he noticed, was a restless person. His knee jiggled up and down, as if he was antsy over something, and he talked. A lot. Between bites of his food, he spoke about how he had found Minseok, as well as about the colony that they were in now.
The colony, Minseok discovered, was an underground settlement. Baekhyun had been born here, like his father and mother before him. His great-grandparents had been from the Outside, but they had been one of the first few settlers here. Since then, it had grown into a utopia of sorts.
The tunnels, Baekhyun explained, led from the Outside - well, most of them, at least. In the past, they had had problems with others attempting to steal from the colony, to take advantage of their kindness, and those had been sealed for a long time. How did Minseok end up there? He didn’t wait for an answer, and and Baekhyun went on to tell Minseok that he had been lucky he hadn't ended up in the Pit, which was what they called the endless drop that existed in one of the tunnels. He was lucky Baekhyun had found him too, he said.
Minseok hardly spoke, but he listened, partly fascinated by Baekhyun’s continuous chatter. It was clear that whatever Minseok had read in the books had been wrong. That there were people living here, a society that thrived beneath the poisonous surface. These were not the savages as he had been led to believe. More so, while their tone and accent were different, the language here felt as familiar to him as his own. He tried to remember where he had heard the strange, melodic accents before, but his thoughts still swam in confusion, the past and present mixing together.
There were many questions that rested on the tip of Minseok’s tongue, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. He was still cautious about trusting anyone here, even if Baekhyun, who had saved him and brought him here, seemed harmless enough.
“Where are your parents?” he asked, interrupting Baekhyun midway as he attempted to explain the crops that they grew underground. He recalled there being mention of a housekeeper, whom he had met, apart from Baekhyun. There had been no one else.
Baekhyun’s voice faltered, and he stopped talking. He cast his gaze down, cradling the bowl in his hands and on top of his lap. Minseok realized, suddenly, that he was blinking back tears. “They… they--” He swallowed, taking a deep breath before continuing. “It’s--ah-- it’s just me here.”
“I’m… sorry.” Minseok felt guilty. He hadn’t meant to be so careless with his words. He tried to think of something else to say. “I… don’t have anyone either.” That was partially true. His parents had wept when they visited him in his cell, and told him that they were planning to leave Xeia for one of the new settlements spaceside. His mother had held him for a long time, before she kissed him on the cheek goodbye, pressing into his palm a small lucky charm that had been taken from him when the authorities had found him. The silver had felt cool and hard against his skin.
He thought of the charm, attached to the leather cord that he wore around his neck, close to his heart. It had belonged to his sister, once. That was all that remained of his past life.
A warm hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up, and found that Baekhyun had moved closer, to place his hand there. His eyes were still wet, but there was a look of sympathy on his face. “I’m sorry, too,” he said quietly. “I’ve heard that… living on the Outside, it isn’t easy.”
Swallowing, Minseok shook his head. Baekhyun thought that he was from another colony. If only he knew. He doubted he would believe him if Minseok told him the truth. “It’s… it’s fine.” Better to pretend, he thought. It wasn’t as if Minseok would be staying here long enough.
It took him a moment to realize Baekhyun was still speaking. “You can stay here for as long as you want, though,” he was saying. “I mean, I have this spare room, and you need a place to stay to get better, right?”
Minseok frowned. “What about your housekeeper?”
“Sooyoung has her own place, although she comes by once a day to help clean and cook for me. She was the family housekeeper, but.. ah… since there’s just me, it didn’t feel right to force her to stay when she has her own family to take care of.”
Minseok considered his offer for a long moment. “Alright,” he finally relented.
Baekhyun smiled at him, looking too happy and pleased. Minseok could not help smiling back slightly, before he leaned back against the pillows, feeling tired again. He was still too weak to travel on his own, and he needed supplies, a map. And a ship, if one existed here.
He would find his way off this planet somehow, and go home.