The night held them in a loving embraced. They were the darkness and all the life it held. Feared and forgotten warriors of old. Not good, not bad, but somewhere in the grey.
BTS X READER | based/ inspired of Ryan Kirks Nightblade trilogy. You DON'T...
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There was something about a fragment of cold that showed the warmth. Something in the kiss of the sun's rays between the cool morning air before the day would heat up. At that moment, it was Namjoon's bones that felt the chill, as if he was laying in the snow instead of sitting crossed leg in the hut, and it was stealing everything that was him. It was as welcoming as a war to a soldier, even to a well-trained warrior. Nobody would want that call, the one saying battle has come to take you beyond. Yet, at the same time, there was deep relief under the snow, a glimmer of hope to face what was to come.
His eyes squeezed closed and his fist gripping at the fabric of his trousers. He retreated into the depths of his mind once again to check what he had felt was real. And there it was, he felt it again. It was a weak lick of black surrounded by countless gold balls of energy. It had to be her he knew her presence like the back of his hand. He was the one to help coax it out of her. He cold fell another void and two more black shadows.
He opened his eyes and crawled over to one of the maps he had laid out on the floor. It was a rather large map, one specifically made for the more adventurous kind. Brushing over big towns and cities and opting to concentrate on more obscure trails to stay hidden, and routes ideal for passing tiny villages. Shiro had it for when they would act as travelling apothecaries.
Far in the mountains, in a rather large Moore was a monastery. It sat surrounded by no recorded paths or obvious ways to reach it. For the past moon, Namjoon had been focusing on searching isolated buildings such as monasteries. They were far away from civilisation, yet they still were lively enough to mask a presence.
This one imparticular was called hope. He was amused at the name of the place because now he did have just that, a hold that they might get (y/n) back. Even though she felt frail and sick, they could now save her, rescue her from whatever horrible things were happening.
The hinges screamed as the door was suddenly flung open. It shattered Namjoons thoughts apart. In stormed Yoongi. He looked agitated.
He scowled at the smiling man, his eyes slit like a snake. After a minute of his fiery gaze locked on the younger male, he gave in. His feet crashed against the wooden floor to the back of the room. The curtain sent a small wave of air across the floor, slightly shifting the maps that spread across the ground.
"Any good news." A drained voice asked. Two other boys and the older man stepped into the hut, ignoring their fellow companions' attitude. It happened every time they failed. It was worse when he returned from Myrkka alone. He didn't leave the backroom for several days, not wanting to move from the comforting sent she'd left on the blankets and cushions.
"Hope," Namjoon said. They all looked at him, puzzled.
"What, that's where she is," He defended his self "I found her."
The room was saturated with relief. Finally, they would get (y/n) back. Namjoon decided to leave out the part that troubled him. All that matter was they were going to get her back.
