Tales That Fell Out of My Pocket
Chapter 3
The war horns sounded at dawn.
From the palace gates, soldiers marched in gleaming rows — banners whipping like tongues of flame, armor reflecting the rising sun. Magic sigils glowed faintly along their shields, a protective ward humming beneath every step.
Jungkook stood at the forefront, his sword strapped to his back, his black war cloak billowing around him.
But his eyes were distant, locked not on the path ahead, but on something deeper, colder, crawling beneath his ribs.
Namjoon
“The men await your command.”
Jungkook gave a curt nod.
Jeon Jungkook
“We move at first light.”
In the distance, past the banners and battalions, the mountains loomed — jagged and white-tipped, like dragon spines piercing the heavens. Somewhere beyond them lay Varyndor. And somewhere beyond Varyndor… him.
The name coiled inside his chest like a serpent.
Namjoon placed a steady hand on his shoulder.
Namjoon
“Remember who you are, Jungkook.”
He almost laughed. Almost.
Because that was the problem.
Not since the night under the twin moons, when the lines between enemy and something else blurred — when every strike they traded felt like a question neither dared to answer.
Jeon Jungkook
“Ready the scouts,” * he ordered * “We take the Moonspire by nightfall.”
Namjoon
bowed. “As you command.”
And as the army surged forward, a storm gathering at their backs, Jungkook whispered under his breath — a name he wasn’t supposed to long for.
Meanwhile, in the shadowed heart of Varyndor, Taehyung stood in the Raven Tower, gazing out across his kingdom’s frostbitten expanse.
The Council chamber behind him pulsed with restless murmurs — elders cloaked in bone and smoke, their eyes sharp as knives.
Lady Yura spoke first, her voice as cold as the wind that rattled the tower.
Yura
“Aurenya marches. Their banners fly at the Moonspire. And you… you’re still tethered to him.”
Kim Taehyung
“I never denied it.”
An old war priest slammed his staff into the stone floor.
.....
“Prince, he is the enemy! Aurenya has bled our borders for centuries. His bloodline is poison.”
Taehyung’s lips curved faintly.
Kim Taehyung
“And yet poison knows poison.”
Yura
“Enough riddles!” * she snapped * “If you won’t strike him down, he’ll destroy you.”
At that, Taehyung turned. Slowly. Deliberately.
And in his gaze shimmered something ancient, something the Council didn’t understand — couldn’t understand.
Kim Taehyung
“I don’t want to kill him,” * said softly * “I want him to choose.”
Taehyung’s smile deepened, bittersweet.
Kim Taehyung
“To burn with me.”
Night fell swift and brutal over the Moonspire.
The Aurenyan army encamped at its base, their fires a constellation of orange dots beneath the towering cliffs.
In his tent, Jungkook traced the edge of his sword absentmindedly, listening to the winds howl beyond the canvas.
A presence. Watching. Waiting.
And when he stepped outside, he wasn’t surprised to see him.
At the peak of the Moonspire, cloaked in shadows and moonlight, stood Taehyung — his silhouette framed by the swirling mist, his blonde hair tousled by the wind.
They simply stared across the chasm of stone and fate, tethered by something neither crown nor kingdom could sever.
And as lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating both their faces, Jungkook knew.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
But because the blade he carried wasn’t meant to kill Taehyung.
It was meant to carve the only path left between them.
A path neither would return from.
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