Chapter Text
It happened at the same time every year. The villages would come together and make sacrifices of food and gold and objects that people had poured love into over the years. It was a thank you for all that was done to protect them from harsh winters and invading forces. And for the gods who received, it was the only time of year that they could look down from their perch to the world of man and see humanity.
Upon the mountaintop, their vision was limited to the elements of the world that they controlled. Jaebum could see the sun, could make it shine bright upon grassy meadows, but the moon was a mystery to him. Mark could call the tides to the shoreline, could make the waves rocky and destructive to the boats of the enemies attempting to lay claim to land that wasn’t their own, but the life that dwelled within the waves were nothing to him.
Youngjae could hear the purrs and the howls and the calls of the animals in their domain, but couldn’t stop the harsh winds that the birds flew upon. Jinyoung could cradle the dead in his arms and walk their souls to a better place, but the living world was simply darkness to him. Jackson felt the love and the heartbreak that came with it, but had no notion what else was needed to survive in this world. Bambam knew of wealth and the metals that formed it which bent to his will, but he couldn’t understand the love between a parent and child. Yugyeom could call the moon to shine and see its reflection in lakes, but he’d never know the brightness of the day.
But for this one day, that changed. They could see all.
Youngjae seemed to enjoy the holiday the most. He’d wake his brothers up early and demand they be up and ready for the day at the most obscene of hours. No one had the heart to tell him to go away, not when he was smiling so brightly and looked so excited, so his siblings would drag themselves from their beds and trudge into breakfast and try their hardest not to fall asleep in their ambrosia.
‘I wonder what gifts we’ll receive this year,’ Youngjae pondered, wriggling in his seat, unable to control himself.
‘I could use some diamond,’ Bambam mused. His eyes shone like them as he thought of the prospects, of what he could do with just a little of the pressurized metal.
‘A wedding band,’ Jackson piped up, ‘the stories that come from such a simple thing…’
‘I want to see the sun,’ Yugyeom murmured. It was the same thing he wanted every year.
The time came – midday, and Jaebum hung the sun high in the sky and warmed the land to embrace the people for all they would give up. He’d always say, ‘this relationship goes two ways. We need humans as much as humanity needs us. It’s not something to be taken for granted.’
The gods gathered in the pavilion, the closest point between their world and the humans, and waited for the fires. Upon an altar, precious items were gathered and cleansed with fire to guide their journey to the god’s mountain. In the pavilion, a fire pit would flare to life and when it finally died, leave behind the sacrifice.
There was a hum of excitement when the first flame began to rise. It was just a small light at their feet, but within moments it was growing, reaching up to touch the receivers. Jinyoung stretched out his hand, spread his fingers and sighed in contentment at the warmth on his palm. His world was always so cold and in this moment, the chill had evaporated.
‘Wait, something is different,’ Mark commented lowly.
‘They’re still growing,’ Jaebum’s eyebrows furrowed.
The fires never grew higher than their waists, instead stretching outwards to encompass the goods that were to be received. But that day, they grew taller, rising and rising until they could look Yugyeom in the eye. A sense of unease filled them, making the gods shift from foot to foot.
‘What does that mean?’ Bambam questioned with concern heavy in his voice.
Jinyoung felt the tug in the pit of his stomach, a calling so close, so strong, and he knew. He closed his eyes and muttered a blessing of passage.
‘They made a sacrifice,’ he spoke, his voice calm, serene, as it always became when a soul was near, ‘Just not the usual kind.’
‘W-what do you mean?’ Youngjae stammered.
Jinyoung opened his eyes. They glowed white with life taken.
The sight made Jackson recoil. ‘No, wait, that means-‘
‘Why would they?’
‘They’ve never…’
‘What does...’
The flames had reached their peak, and thumped with the beating of a heart. Jinyoung took a step closer, embraced the heat and began his duties. ‘It’s okay,’ he cooed, ‘It’s okay. You’re safe. I have you.’
A whimper. A noise that didn’t belong to any of the gods present. Jaebum cursed under his breath. Jackson clutched at his chest, over his heart, as he felt the heartbreak there.
Yugyeom grabbed onto Youngjae, who held onto him in return. Mark put his hand on the back of Youngjae, tried to be a calming force for the god that looked so pained. He’d been excited for this gift, and now, he wished they weren’t receiving it.
Jinyoung was still urging, still soothing. ‘I have you,’ he repeated his promise, ‘Take my hand.’
He reached a hand into the flames, and felt the cold when something without life wrapped its fingers around his palm. He could see her then. She was young. An innocent. A sacrifice made by desperate people. She was gaunt with skin paled from sickness, but she hadn’t always been like that. In the orange, he could see what she had once been before what was she now.
‘I’m sorry,’ he told her.
She opened her eyes to look at him, dark orbs that held more warmth than they should have with her life essence gone and in his hands. She parted her lips as if she were going to speak but no sound came out.
Jinyoung grasped her hand just a little bit tighter. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, and pulled her from the fire.
-
She hadn’t said anything. Jinyoung sat her on the bench that overlooked the human world, held her hand and murmured the words that only those at his door would ever hear. From a distance, the others watched, shaken and terrified and uncertain by what had been given to them.
‘Why?’ Jackson demanded. He was still holding his chest, the barrier between their world and the humans so thin that he felt everything, felt too much. It was tearing him apart - where was the love he coveted? Why did everything have to hurt so much?
Mark reached out and put his hand over Jackson’s, used the calm of the sea to soothe his brother’s heart, but his eyes were flared with the brutal anger of the ocean. The wild storm was visible when he made eye contact with Jaebum. ‘What should we do?’
Jaebum pushed a hand through his hair and looked to their ‘gift’. She was staring outwards, never blinking, not really seeing, and for the first time since he’d awoken with the power of the sun at his fingertips, he was at a loss. ‘I...’
Mark followed his stare. ‘Do the rules still apply when its human?’
The rules in the contract signed millennia ago that ensured harmony in the land. The gifts were the god’s property from the moment they stepped upon the mountain. They could not be returned. But this was a soul, a person, not bread freshly made that morning.
‘What must it be like for them to send her?’ Yugyeom whispered, voice hoarse. It was mostly to himself, but the others heard and expressions set solemnly. To sacrifice one of their own, they couldn’t -
‘She has been starved,’ Jinyoung spoke up, voice still soft and air, eyes never moving away from his charge, ‘A food shortage. The soil doesn’t accept life anymore.’
‘We don’t have control over that,’ Youngjae worried his bottom lip.
‘They’re desperate,’ Jackson muttered, ‘So desperate.’
He reached for Mark’s hand for the waves of calm when it felt like too much.
‘Fire,’ a soft voice, unfamiliar and broken as if it were not used to make any noise at all. It drew attention, and the sacrifice shifted, pulled her legs closer to her and suddenly appeared more alive than she should be.
‘What’s your name?’ Jinyoung spoke carefully. He had his hand on her elbow, a gentle touch to ground to this life.
‘I...I don’t remember,’ she croaked. Jinyoung nodded understandingly. He had seen it before, the distance between what was and what is, and how the mind struggles to adapt to it.
‘We have to call her something,’ Bambam complained.
‘Bam...’ Jaebum muttered as a warning.
‘Is there a name that seems familiar to you?’ Jinyoung asked carefully, gently.
She opened her mouth and closed it, opened and formed vowels and consonants with her lips. A squeak, a mumble, and finally, ‘Ki...’
‘Ki? Just Ki?’ Jackson questioned.
Her eyebrows furrowed, and her expression creased with distress. Jinyoung hummed a noise that relaxed her features just so. ‘It’s okay,’ he assured, ‘You’re doing well.’
Youngjae crouched down to eye level and smiled earnestly. ‘I like Ki.’
She looked at him and blinked once with warm eyes. And then she smiled. It trembled at the edges as if the muscles were not used to the action - and they shouldn’t be, as death takes everything and leaves you cold - but it was a smile all the same. Youngjae seemed delighted, but for Jinyoung, there was something uncertain in the pit of his stomach.
Ki reeked of death, yes, and his domain called for him to do his duty, but she held on to too much life. A smile. A warm look. A flush to her cheeks. It was uncomfortable, made Jinyoung’s skin itch equally as it made his power sing.
So that left him with one question that he wasn’t certain he would get an answer to: what was she?