Like all races born under the guidance of the stars in this world, Yeosang dreamed. The wise of the dryads agreed with the elven scholars that their dreams poured directly from the heavens into their minds. Some gave warnings and advice, others helped find a path lost in the intricacies of the soul.

Yeosang often dreamed of Seonghwa. Knew the stars shared his grief. But the dryad was ever so unsure whether the dreams sent by the skies to remind him of their shared love were a blessing or an infinite source of suffering that forbade him from his rest.

Tonight, as well, Seonghwa entered his subconscious. In Yeosang's dreams, he was blindingly dazzling. With silky hair shimmering like the night sky. The sprinkled stars on his skin, visible only in the right lighting. His every move was fluid like water, delicate like an unfurling flower. When he lifted those eyes of amethyst to meet Yeosang's restless gaze, their shine was captivating.

And a smile so gentle and loving Yeosang wanted to cry dashed across his lips.

Seonghwa was enthralling. Beautiful how no other creature was beautiful and outshining even those close in kin. His vision brought jealousy and war, but it also soothed the hearts of those strained with hurt.

And when Yeosang glimpsed him, even knowing this was a dream and Seonghwa was gone, the same peace overcame him. Momentarily, his agony faded from his notice. Only his magnificent best friend and his fondness for Yeosang mattered.

As so often, Yeosang was at a loss for words. He had yelled at this haunting vision of his dreams for countless hours in the past. Wailed until his voice gave out. Other times, he stared with wonder, tried to ingrain this sight into his mind so he could think back to better days. To laughter and the soothing hum of Seonghwa's voice.

To Yeosang, he was everything. Deserved all his blessings, deserved his crown. Though Yeosang knew of Seonghwa's fears, of his inability to dote on himself how he doted on others, Seonghwa had grown into such a valuable emperor. One who should never suffer as he had suffered. Should never look so dishevelled and tormented as he did on his final day.

"Yeosang," Seonghwa called him tenderly, and a hand stretched out in his direction. Seonghwa's white robes made him look otherworldly, and Yeosang slowly stepped towards him. The chant of Seonghwa's soul trickled into his senses. The sweetest hum when he was happy, this song of ice. Never scary, never threatening. And despite their prior fears, something that became infinitely more joyous after Seonghwa married his harem and found so many to dedicate all his love to.

Yeosang's hesitant branches stretched out, growing on their own will as they yearned to touch the elf, to feel his healing light upon his bark.

But they could never meet in Yeosang's dreams. His touch faded through Seonghwa as if through smoke, though they so often hugged in the past.

Seonghwa was gone. And no wistful apparition of him in Yeosang's dreams could bring back the one he once was.

Before Seonghwa's smile could turn miserable and Yeosang could be overcome with sadness, he startled himself awake. Withdrew from those searching eyes. Cowardly ducked away to huddle into the shadows. Seonghwa's haunting song followed him like the lone voice of a ghost. And as Yeosang stared up at the ceiling of their homey cave, he still believed to hear it ringing in his mind.

Right, Morana's soul also sang. Only when she slept, since she was uncaring and free in those moments. Her voice was much quieter than Seonghwa's, didn't animate nature and the objects around her to sing back in response.

But it was undoubtedly the same.

Yeosang swung out of bed. The hollowness inside him was painful and often had him gasping for breath. He felt as if he were rotting from the inside out. Felt himself wilting like a flower that didn't get enough attention and nutrition from the soil.

Yeosang sat at the cave entrance again to catch his breath. He should ask Wooyoung to go up to the surface soon so Yeosang could stretch his roots into the earth and connect with those like him. Listen to the stories of many souls buried; of past and new life. It always reminded him he wasn't alone. That life and death were a cycle and Seonghwa's end meant the beginning of something new. Of his children.

Yet Yeosang was always haunted by the vision of their last moments together. By Seonghwa's smile as he accepted his fate and tried to soothe them even when his world crumbled.

Again, Yeosang stared out over the stormy grey of the sea.

-

The next day, Wooyoung hung out with some young gryphon-borns. They hatched only recently, so their wings were still untrained and their flailing in the breeze uncoordinated. Together with some other adults, Wooyoung instructed them how to fly. They might become scouts one day. Warriors. Their young eyes sparkled up at Wooyoung for his speed and agility in the air, for controlling his body so well despite the scars marring it.

Yeosang watched them play outside for a while before he helped Morana with her studies. Books and more books. Yeosang was no scholar, so he tried his best to explain difficult subjects to her. Jongho would have been better for this.

Yeosang missed him. Missed all of them.

Since she preferred adventure and exploring things first hand, Morana loathed studying long texts. She was less impulsive than in the past, but her growls at the paintings she didn't understand never ceased. For as long as she could bear it, the two reviewed the anatomy of demons. Yeosang also learned many new things. He just wished he could ask the people meant to be there for her to teach her these things if no scholar could.

After studying, they ate some of yesterday's stew. Yeosang tried to braid Morana's hair and got his branches stuck all over her. She giggled at him and sometimes Yeosang could forget his pain, however momentarily.

But he wasn't made to bear such grief. Of losing his love, his home, his empire and most of his family all at once. He never dared return to the Glistening Walnut Grove, afraid of what the fires had done to it.

Neither was Wooyoung made for grief.

After playing with the kids all day, the gryphon-born returned with a huge smile and a blush on his cheeks from laughing so hard. Yeosang smiled at him to match his mood, but a perpetual gloom lasted in this place. It was the adults' fault, and Morana could feel it. Could tell something was amiss and was frustrated since it never changed.

Wooyoung often found his distractions outside. Fled from the shadows of their mourning. But ultimately, they always caught up with him and his smile died.

Yeosang wished it weren't like this. That they could smile genuinely and bring up Morana with joy.

With Seonghwa, the light disappeared from their lives.

That evening, Wooyoung crawled into bed first, since he was exhausted. Yeosang knew he was awake, lost in thought, as his haunts kept him from sleep. The dryad tugged their blanket over him and caressed his hair, hoping it wouldn't be too bad tonight. Wooyoung soaked up the solace with a subtle sigh.

Morana sat at the entrance of the cave today. She was curious about what drew Yeosang to it and often copied him. Only tonight, the ocean was calm and the sky clear. The stars twinkled back at them and Morana's awed stare tried to capture all of them at once. Read their stories and their aeons of wisdom.

Yeosang approached her with her fur coat and Wooyoung's green scarf. As he wrapped them around her, the girl's peculiar temperature neither needed nor protested them. Born from one who was cold and one who was hot, she easily adjusted to her surroundings.

"Aren't you tired?" Yeosang asked when he sat by her side. The crooked braid of her hair dangled over her shoulder.

Thoughtful features squinted up at the sky that reflected into her eyes. The stars seemed to brighten up for her, twinkling in a game of entertainment for the child of the one they loved so much.

In his years among celestial elves, Yeosang never saw them as devoted as they were to Seonghwa.

Without glancing away from their abundance, Morana gathered her frown into words.

"Why am I so... sad when I look at the stars? Why do they feel so far away?"

So she also noticed it. How, instead of guidance, they gave her an indescribable feeling of longing. A family lost.

"They belong to you. Your soul is made of them," Yeosang explained, and this was still one of the most difficult topics for her.

Only half of her descended from the stars. Morana had trouble with the opposing sides of her nature. Didn't feel like one or the other. Never whole.

Yeosang tried to teach her about as much as he knew. About demons and about elves. But stories didn't fascinate her. She knew something lacked in her life. A sense of kinship. Darkspawn notoriously suffered these problems since they were often born of separated parents.

But Morana had no one related to her. It was something Yeosang and Wooyoung could never give her, no matter how they loved her. And she was old enough to realise she came from neither of the dryads nor the gryphons.

"All of them?" She asked, and Yeosang pointed at the pale sickle in the night. Void of life since it lost its dearest child. No more but a husk, fulfilling its purpose in the sky's fabric.

"Your guardian is the moon," he explained, and his fingers also formed into a sickle that sprouted sweet dandruff to make it white. Fascinated, Morana peered back up. "The one who birthed you was also blessed by the moon. It is fond of you both. That's why you feel its draw. It conveys its pride in you."

And it did. It was what drew Morana to look into the sky, to inspire this wonder.

She didn't remember how beautiful and rich its light once was. Barely remembered anything of their old home.

Morana never asked about elves, and why they weren't around her. She often wondered about her horns, but they had no mirror for her to understand who she was. So few references. Her past was buried far underground and her new life was lacking.

"Can't I be like Wooyoung? With wings and courage in my heart?" She questioned the moon itself. Challenged its grace that waned for so long.

Yeosang chuckled.

"Wooyoung is a moron. I don't want you to be like him."

It was enough to have constant heart attacks about one idiot diving down the cliffs, Yeosang didn't need two of them.

Morana snickered at his scandalised face. They giggled in secret, quiet so Wooyoung wouldn't know.

But the gryphon-born already stirred from his painful solitude. His claws scratched over the rough rock when he came over, joining the soft laughter of the remaining family.

When Morana saw him, she pursed her lips and tried to look serious. Yeosang did the same, hiding all the mushrooms that might give him away.

But the girl couldn't keep it in. She burst out laughing at Wooyoung's stern look and he tackled her in a play fight, flaring his wings to threaten her as his fingers tickled over her sides.

"What did you say about me, hm? Do you not want me to catch you fishes anymore?" He roared in mock rage and Morana butted back at him, fighting with fists and horns. Never hurting each other. Just enough until they were breathless and laughed with each other, all conflict forgotten, no matter how feeble it was.

Morana wanted to be many things, struggling with her heritage. It wouldn't be so bad if Seonghwa had been there to soothe her and show his kinship. Elves needed that proximity to their family. Demons didn't.

Torn between her two sides, Morana sought answers where she could. Yeosang wished he had them.

The dryad also often wondered. Who Morana could have been if that night never happened. The stars saw a lot of potential in her back then. And Yeosang knew with her set of parents, she would have grown into a person powerful enough to make weaker groups tremble.

But such was the past.

Perhaps Yeosang could talk to Hlin. See if there was an orphaned gryphon she could learn to ride. If she couldn't be herself, she still deserved a community, scared as Yeosang was to put her in the face of any danger.