A Feeling That Can't be Resisted

Sakura slept easily now.

It took hours, and a thousand tangled threads to quiet, but once they did, she folded into herself like silk. The Temporal Vow floated beside her, dim but intact, pulsing with a steady rhythm like breath. Real breath. Her breath.

I carried her in my arms—light, warm, fragile—and laid her gently in the bed Chaewon had prepared. It wasn’t the cold stone of the chamber where time unraveled. Just a simple room. White walls, soft light, a window with wind chimes that danced softly against the wind.

The kind of place you’d dream in.

She mumbled something as I tucked the sheets around her. Then, I felt her hand pull at me. I turned to see her half-lidded eyes staring at me.

“…come back to me…”

I paused. Then pressed a hand to her hair, brushing the strands from her cheek and giving her forehead a kiss.

“Always,” I whispered, and she closed her eyes again and drifted to sleep.

And then I left.

The door closed with a gentle click behind me.

I expected silence. But someone was already there.

Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes like wildfire held in check—Yunjin.

Her flame had dimmed. Not gone. Just... calmed. Her color had returned—still pale, but alive. Her red hair fixed cleanly, a smolder instead of an inferno. The Ashen Ember Ring rested on her hand again, faintly glowing like a hearth's last coal.

“You did well,” she said softly.

I blinked. “What?”

“Sakura,” she clarified. “You put her back together.”

“She’s still broken,” I replied.

Yunjin shrugged one shoulder, “Aren't we all," she replied matter-of-factly — and she wasn't wrong.

I leaned against the wall opposite her, not quite ready to return to my room.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then she said, “You know, when I was chained in that damn cathedral, all I could hear was Ignariel’s hymn—burning over and over, branding itself into the bones of the city, draining my flame into it. But above all the noise, I remember one thing.”

I turned to her. “What?”

She looked at me, a slow smile spreading like fire catching on paper.

“Your voice. Shouting our names. Mine. At the start, I didn't know who it was. But when you arrived, the three of you, I knew.”

My mouth went dry.

“You sounded angry,” she added, teasing. “I liked it.”

I huffed softly, "You sound... different, than your other sisters." She raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "You're more..."

"Loud?" She offered.

I shrugged my shoulders, "for lack of a better term, yeah."

She laughed, not the sweet chuckles Kazuha and Sakura does, but a full chortle.

"I am fire, Seren. The fire that fuels emotion, passion. And that fire is loud and true," she paused and sighed.

"Ignariel corrupted that fire into the Blightfire, creating the Broken Enlightened," she continued. "Instead of igniting their emotions, their passions, the Blightfire extinguished it instead, resulting to the empty husks you encountered."

I nodded, processing the information, "So does that mean we won't be seeing them anymore now that you're free?" I asked.

Yunjin exhaled loudly, "Unfortunately, no. Ignariel drained most of my power, it can use it to create more of those cultists."

I sighed, "I wouldn't want to fight those poor souls again," I muttered.

"Nah it would be fine. I'd be joining you so. They originated from me, I'll just suck them back up. Granted, they're corrupted so, I might have to take some time to rest while my good old Ring cleanses them of the corruption," she proudly showed off her relic which pulsed faintly, as if embarassed by the rowdiness of its wielder.

"You can do that?" I asked.

She nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Then why..."

"Why didn't I do it during the fight? Probably because I was bound by Ignariel's stupid flame," she interrupted, smirking at me.

I chuckled, despite myself, “That whole fight was a blur.”

Yunjin's smile faded slightly, replaced by a quiet seriousness, “It wasn’t for me. Every second of that fight burned itself into my memory. I remember the fire. The chains. The hymn twisting around my will. But more than that, I remember you three. Coming for me,” she paused. “No one’s ever done that before.”

I looked away, unsure what to say.

She saved me the trouble.

"And you," she gestured at me. "Fighting like... I don't know. I never saw anyone fight like you do."

"The relic does most of the job."

"How does it work?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. I just throw my daggers and let the Compass do the work," I shrugged. "Leaves me feeling sick every time though." I said, caressing my stomach.

Yunjin laughs heartily again, "You should talk to your relic. Find out how it works, who knows, you might control it better and last longer next time."

"Thank you for the advice," I said, bowing corteously yet humorously.

We laughed together, the sound warming both of us as we slowly settled to a comfortable silence.

“Did you see him hesitate?” she asked suddenly. “Ignariel.”

I frowned, “When?”

“Right before Chaewon descended. He faltered. Just a blink. He felt it. Her presence,” her voice lowered.

I nodded. “I think we all did. The moment she arrived... it was like gravity changed.”

Yunjin looked toward the end of the hall, “She scares me, Seren. Not because she’s powerful—but because she’s certain. That kind of certainty doesn’t leave room for anyone else’s fire.”

I thought of what Chaewon had said in my room. About suffering. About fate. About mortals and the divine.

“She’s not wrong,” I said quietly. “But she’s not right either. Like Ignariel."

"Don't compare them, Seren —" Yunjin growled, in a voice that sounded like fire breaking against wood.

"Sorry." I said immediately. "It's just —"

“I know. They both make sense and depending on your perspective one of them may be right, both of them may be right, or both of them are wrong."

"But?"

"Chaewon is... still my sister. For all our differences and arguments, she's family, and you don't turn your back on family.” Yunjin gave a tired smile. “And I owe her my freedom. But I don’t owe her my soul.”

We stood in silence again, but it felt warmer this time.

"She's still short," I joked, breaking the silence.

To that Yunjin had another hearty laugh. Then she looked at me, her expression shifting, “Do you know what ash is, Seren?”

I raised an eyebrow, “Burned things?”

She rolled her eyes, “Yes, smartass. But also... it is what remains," her voice softened. “You can’t make ash unless something was alive first.”

The air seemed to hold that thought.

"I don't get it —" I said, tilting my head in confusion.

“I’m not whole,” she continued. “But I’m still here. And that matters. You're not so different from us in that aspect.”

I met her eyes. “It's better to come back broken and alive, cause you can still piece yourself back together,” I said.

Yunjin chuckled, "No way a mortal like you would say that."

I smiled warmly at her, "I didn't. It was something Chaewon said to me."

Yunjin paused. "Ha. Guess that girl had a heart after all," she exclaimed, grinning.

"She's family, right?"

She pushed away from the wall and approached me with a full smile on her lips. Her eyes sparkling with tempered flame. The wall behind me suddenly heats up as she leans in and plants a kiss on my cheeks before walking a few paces. My breath hitched in surprise as my cheeks grew red both with heat and my blood pumping through it.

Her robes brushed the floor, leaving faint ember-marks that faded behind her. “Thanks for the rescue. And for fixing Sakura. Goodnight, Seren,” she said, without turning.

“Goodnight, Yunjin.”
---------

My room was dim when I returned.

Not dark—just soaked in evening light, the kind that falls soft through high windows, painting the walls gold and blue. The sheets were still rumpled from where I’d left them.

I closed the door behind me.

And froze.

Someone was already inside.

Kazuha.

She stood by the window, wrapped in soft gray robes, her one intact wing tucked close while the other—shattered and bound—rested in a sling of luminous cloth. The wind moved through the chimes outside, and it carried with it the scent of jasmine. It clung to her like gravity.

She didn’t turn when she spoke.

"You didn't look for me."

Her voice was quiet. Not accusatory—just a statement. A simple truth, offered like breath.

"I didn’t know where to start," I admitted, stepping further into the room. “And... you weren’t in your chamber.”

"I wasn’t," she looked down at the city. “I was with the wind. Letting it carry the weight," she said, subtly shuffling her wings.

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching her, “Chaewon said a broken wing might be harder to you than most, being the Angel of Motion. Are you... all right?” I asked softly.

She finally turned. Her eyes found mine—those eyes as deep as the night sky that held the stars—and they held something deeper than pain. Not brokenness. Not grief.

Longing.

"No," she said. "And yes. But I didn’t come here to talk about that."

"Wait," I said as I studied her. "Where is Stillveil?" I asked. "I would have thought she's be the one wrapped around your wing."

Kazuha giggled sweetly, "Well, let's just say she reluctantly let a fan of hers to a night long flight for one night. Just to give us some privacy," she teased.

"Fan of..." I stopped as my gaze landed on the empty table beside my bed. The table where the Compass should be.

I smirked, "Is Stillveil happy about this?" I asked mischievously.

She giggled again. Like a girl trapped in a room with her crush, "Let's just say your Compass... 'grew' on Stillveil." She said with a teasing smirk earning a raised eyebrow of amusement from me.

"But I'm not here to talk about our relics," she crossed the room in slow, deliberate steps. Each one seemed quieter than the last, like she was gliding across the stone rather than walking. Even with a broken wing, Kazuha still moved with grace woven into every motion.

She stopped in front of me.

"When I fought to free Yunjin," she said softly, “she said to fill the emptimess with our passions so that we can break her binds."

"I called on everything inside me. My love for dance, for motion. My bond with Stillveil. My will to protect you and my sisters. But one thing burned brighter than the rest."

Her hand lifted—gentle, trembling—and brushed a strand of hair from my face.

"It was you."

My breath caught.

"You were the reason my motion never faltered. Even when the hymn was burning me from the inside. Even when my wing snapped with that explosion. Even when I thought I'd never get back up. Even when stillness threatens to freeze me in place.” she said with conviction.

"It wasn't Chaewon's command to get up which spurred me, she placed no magic in those words to compel me. It was you," she said, her voice gradually growing softer while her eyes dart back-and-forth from my eyes to my lips.

"Seeing you stand up, still with the will to fight Ignariel and potentially even Chaewon — for us," she paused as she tried to catch her breath. "It gave me the strength to stand up, even with a shattered wing, to fight with you," she's panting now, and I can feel heat coming from her.

"Even against Chaewon?" I asked breathily.

"Even against heaven, earth, and hell." She leaned closer, forehead nearly touching mine.

"I burned with love, Seren. And I’m tired of holding it back."

Her kiss came like a whisper at first—light, hesitant, searching. Then, as I returned it, it deepened. Like wind gaining force beneath faltering wings. I reached for her waist, feeling the curve of her body against mine, the silk of her robes sliding beneath my fingers like river-light.

Her hands moved to cup my jaw, pulling me closer. She climbed onto the bed, straddling my lap, her breath falling unevenly between us.

I pulled away briefly, “Are you sure?” I murmured.

She nodded, and her voice broke on the words, “I’ve always been sure.”

There was no fire. No divine radiance. No prophecy or relic between us.

Only warmth. Skin. Want.

The kind that came slowly, deliberately—like the moments before a storm when the wind stills, and you know something beautiful is about to change you forever.

Her breath hitched when I undid the sash at her waist, her robes falling from her body, exposing her soft and graceful lines. She gasped as I traced my fingers over the healed scars on her side, the lines of where her wing had shattered. She didn’t hide from me. Not this time.

And I let her see me too.

Not as the Compass-wielder. Not as the Eclipse-born.

Just Seren Solari.

We moved with reverence and ache—her broken motion and my wounded resolve finding rhythm in the space between touch and breath. She kissed my shoulder, my chest, my throat. I cupped her chests as I kissed the tears she didn’t mean to shed. And when we finally fell into each other fully, it wasn’t desperation.

It was surrender.

She arched against me, gasping, soft and strong all at once. Her whispers filled the room like wind-song. Our shadows danced on the wall behind the chimes, fluttering with the breeze. She moved with the grace associated with her name. Her wings reflecting the moonlight, brightening the room with a soft violet hue as she rides on top of me.

It was not fast.

It was not slow.

It was just right.

She quickened her pace. She moved atop me not with practiced grace, but like instinct turned to rhythm—like a dance only I was meant to follow. I can feel her tightening around me. I braced myself as she unraveled on top of me. Her release triggers my own and we both slowly rode our highs together.

When it was done, we lay entangled in silence, the moon casting silver lines across our skin. Her head rested against my chest. I ran my fingers through her hair then to her shattered wings. They felt... softer than I thought, like real feathers, but brittle like glass.

Her voice came drowsy, but sure.

“I don't want to be a memory that moves on. I want to be a motion that stays.”

“You are,” I whispered into her hair. “You always were.”

"You pieced Sakura back, you chose to stay for her," she whispered softly.

"I—"

"I'm not jealous, Seren," Kazuha said, her fingers tracing circles on my chest. "I'm... grateful."

"Grateful?"

She tilts her head up, her eyes holding mine. "For finding me," she said, then after three heartbeats, "For finding us."

I leaned in and captured her lips for a slow and deep kiss.

She smiled when she pulled away, her eyes still closed, "The night's still young, Seren."

I hummed, "I know, Kazuha."

Outside, the wind stirred.

And for the first time in days, it did not sound like a warning.

It sounded like peace.

As I closed my eyes, I spotted a familiar black and silver fabric traverse the night sky. A faint whisper touches my mind, elegant but wounded. "Take care of her."

I smiled, "I will, Stillveil." I replied softly with my mind.

Then —

"Well-played, Lucky bastard." I stiffled a laugh as I heard the Compass in my head before finally drifting off with the first woman I love wrapped in my embrace.