{Fanfic: In The Years Imja Was Gone} Chapter 6 and Ending
In The Years Imja Was Gone
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Indeed the house had changed.
No longer was that heaviness settling on every corner, or the odd decorations and the millions of trinkets everywhere; it was a wide open space full of gardens and lovely looking paths. The colors had not changed, but the furniture had; probably that’s what his aunt had meant when she choose the color patters. There were more greens and blues, less red and more yellow and pink. Choi Young brought Dae Man to tour the house; finding all the rooms well lit the furniture in place and the large gardens in full bloom.
There was a small pagoda, with a pond below, wrapped around with yellow mums.
He sat there, looking ahead, at some unknown point, while the Suribang finally made an appearance and looked at the house as hell, liking it very well. Dae Man spoke to the boys, while his pledged aunt and uncle strolled through the thick gardens.
“Daejang?” Asked Dae Man, nearing him quietly.
“What do you think?”
“It’s much better than before, even more so without the weir guy around.”
There was even a herbal room at one of the sides of the house. “Right?” He asked Dae Man, eyes still lost somewhere between a dream and reality. His aunt had been right; he wouldn’t want to keep the High Doctor trapped within the barracks for the rest of their lives, but this house… would she approve of it?
“Can you live here alone, sir?”
Could he?
Ruffling the boy’s hair he stood, and walked out of the pagoda, looking around. Dae Man quickly followed. “Do you have somewhere else to live beside the barracks?”
“No sir, I don’t.”
“Then this is your home also.” He said without looking at the boy.
If the king had given him a house, he would make a home out of it, so when the Eun Soo arrived she would have a place to nest and pull him along with her. Why would he keep a quiet flower blooming in a bare and deserted terrain, when here she could become so much more? With her herbal room, a pagoda to drag him to, a room to rest more comfortably?
Every night she would ask Are you there?
And every night he would answer I am here.
He halted suddenly, and was forced to suppress his smile. Dae Man asked him if everything was alright, and the man squinted his eyes because of the sudden brightness that invaded his soul, “I have a good feeling about this year, Dae Man.” He said, quickly, and resumed his walk. “Pledged aunt, do you have some of that soup?”
.
.
A sudden thought scared him.
He’d been sleeping peacefully, dreaming of his own heart, when he turned and saw Eun Soo; standing there. She wore the clothes he’d brought her with from the Heavens, and had her bag dangling from her shoulder. She neared him, touching his cheek and smiling.
Thank you for everything. I am grateful. And finally she turned and left, Choi Young couldn’t follow, because he could not move. She walked into the darkness that was quickly gathering around him, silence and stillness enveloping his heart. His world froze over again, and his body became colder than the ice Ki Cheon had used to freeze him with; and there was no hope. Then her voice whispered: But I was never real.
He woke up with a deep gasp, eyes widening as he did so, and was suddenly frozen in bed, unable to move out of fear.
Why would she come to her dreams? Only dead people came to his dreams.
Was he probably losing faith in her return?
Unable to return to sleep he stood, and walked over to the small slit of an opening the tent offered. The battle had been gruesome, the injured many, he himself sported a gash to his shoulder, and the men were tired. They had set up the small camp to sleep and gather their strength; they had won another chunk of land for Goryeo and deserved to rest. There had been some merriment for a while, but the camp had settled into silence; the Vice General had the first watch, and so Choi Young put on his armor, gathered his sword and exit the tent, walking over to the post the man had set.
“Daejang.”
“Go rest.”
“I’m alright, you rest sir.” And sighing the General stood beside his companion. “Sir?”
“Choong-sik,”
“Yes.”
“You do remember the High Doctor, do you?”
“Yes, of course. She’s a character not easy to forget.” The man watched the general after answering, and frowned slightly. “Is something wrong, sir?”
He could not tell the man he felt fear but he turned, and nodded. “Have I waited too long?”
“No. It’s been merely a measly four years.” That had the general chuckling. “Sir, if your faith is wavering, let it be steeled with this thought: She is real, she is returning.” Choi Young said nothing, allowing the words to sink.
He turned, and slapped the man’s shoulder. “Go rest, I’ll stand guard.” And following the order, Choong-sik bowed and left, but not before turning to gaze at the general in worry.
Was his faith so little that it was already wavering?
.
.
Choi Young was called in to visit the Queen and greet her properly. After all since the battle started he had not visited the Queen. Why was he even in need of visiting the Queen? Taking a deep breath he followed his aunt to the door, was announced and asked to come in, and he did so; followed by the female warriors and his aunt.
“Majesty, General Choi Young.” Said Lady Choi, as the man bowed.
“General, so good to see you. Please, sit down.”
He hesitated for a second, the last time she asked him to sit she’d checked his temperature. But right now it was very little consequence; she would not touch him. So he sat, and set his sword beside the chair. “I wanted to ask if the house and all the furniture were to your liking.” She started, obviously curious.
“Yes, Majesty, I liked them very much.”
“Lady Choi told me you at first were apprehensive of taking the land.” And his eyes surfed the air to find his aunt, who shrugged her shoulders, and took in a deep breath.
“Only out of courtesy, madam.”
“The King was more than happy to give you the house, and it is nothing compared to all you have given us.” And the Queen served the tea, showing off her amazing skills at the art. She set the cup before the man, and smiled. “Please drink.” He gave a bow and took the simple cup, tasting the brew.
It was the best tea he tasted in a very, very long time.
“I hope to be served tea at your place, when the High Doctor returns.”
“You and the King will be more than welcome, Majesty.”
“I pray every day for her safe return, and hope she is well and healthy wherever she is.” He remained quiet. “To be able to do so one must have an unwavering faith, like the pillars of the house you now have, strong and powerful; that would last through a lifetime. So even if you are to wait for her forever, do so with a quiet and faithful heart. The more you trust in your faith, the sooner we’ll have her here.”
There was a knock on the door, and the King was announced. They both stood, Choi Young moving out of the path of sight so the man could get a good look at his wife once he entered, and bowed. The King entered, smiling.
“I heard from Do chi that Choi Young was here and decided to come and interrupt your tea; why not have lunch together, all three of us?”
“I like very much the idea, Majesty.”
“General?”
“You honor me with such invitation, sir.”
“Then let us go.” And waiting for the Queen to stand beside him, the King did not move forward. She smiled and gave a knowing smile at the general and moved, both royals moving forward, the general following and then the escorts.
Was his faith so little, and so obvious, that even the Queen wanted to make it grow?
Was his faith the reason she was kept away? The thought frightened his heart.
In The Years Imja Was Gone
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
A fourth year, a fourth return with empty hands.
Instead of sitting in his office he walked to his bed and sat, staring at the far wall; he didn’t stay there long, but he rested his back on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a longer while.
Was this because of his faith?
Yet he waited four years, he’d trusted her return; why was he left the simple memories of bittersweet fighting, the warmth of her hand against his kisses and the simple knowledge of her return? Didn’t he deserve something more? At least a promise of her return, or a kiss?
A simple look?
Anger flared in his body, warming it up; his hand reached forward and grabbing the first thing he could find shattered a vase with flowers against the far wall, then the chair was thrown over and some other pieces of furniture, when he reached for the pillow to rip into pieces, because his anger was yet to be vented and in desperation…
The paper caught his attention.
He’d seen it a hundred times, a million times; to know that her soft fingers had graced such puny item made his heart shrink and his callused fingers reached for it. Unfolding it, he sat on bed, while the door opened and revealed Deok Man and the Vice General, who looked around in surprise at all the destruction done in less than a minute. The numbers were large, some crossed over, only the last number uncovered with the thick cross of ink.
“Sir.”
Why was he so desperate? Had she not traced these crossed while waiting for death, marking every hour of very day? Hadn’t she cherished every moment because she was by his side? Even while standing before the valley of shadow and death… There was sunlight filtering because he was there… His eyes turned across the room, where the small pots she’d left there were still there, and the bottle of aspiring among them; a small shrine to her existence.
“Sir what happened here?”
Choi Young didn’t answer, but turned slightly to the man his mind wild with thought of darkness and desperation. He didn’t speak, worrying his men, and lowered his sight to the paper in hand. Only the last number was uncrossed, probably for some unfair reason.
I’ve cross the bridge of time, I’ve cross the heart of men with my sword and it took a woman, untamable and fierce, to cross all those same things and with nothing but her words. I have met my match and I have lost utterly and terribly so; then if she is away what must I do to retrieve her?
Even if you are to wait for her forever, do so with a quiet and faithful heart.
The words the Queen had left in his heart echoed loudly, and seemed to open a path unseen for him.
This number is for you to cross. Let it be the last year you return with empty hands. And daring to damage something he cherish so much, and item left as a relic from Hwata, Choi Young reached forward and with the brush, dipped in the ink well he kept over the desk, crossed the number.
The End... (Now go read: Less Than a Hundred Years) :D
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Indeed the house had changed.
No longer was that heaviness settling on every corner, or the odd decorations and the millions of trinkets everywhere; it was a wide open space full of gardens and lovely looking paths. The colors had not changed, but the furniture had; probably that’s what his aunt had meant when she choose the color patters. There were more greens and blues, less red and more yellow and pink. Choi Young brought Dae Man to tour the house; finding all the rooms well lit the furniture in place and the large gardens in full bloom.
There was a small pagoda, with a pond below, wrapped around with yellow mums.
He sat there, looking ahead, at some unknown point, while the Suribang finally made an appearance and looked at the house as hell, liking it very well. Dae Man spoke to the boys, while his pledged aunt and uncle strolled through the thick gardens.
“Daejang?” Asked Dae Man, nearing him quietly.
“What do you think?”
“It’s much better than before, even more so without the weir guy around.”
There was even a herbal room at one of the sides of the house. “Right?” He asked Dae Man, eyes still lost somewhere between a dream and reality. His aunt had been right; he wouldn’t want to keep the High Doctor trapped within the barracks for the rest of their lives, but this house… would she approve of it?
“Can you live here alone, sir?”
Could he?
Ruffling the boy’s hair he stood, and walked out of the pagoda, looking around. Dae Man quickly followed. “Do you have somewhere else to live beside the barracks?”
“No sir, I don’t.”
“Then this is your home also.” He said without looking at the boy.
If the king had given him a house, he would make a home out of it, so when the Eun Soo arrived she would have a place to nest and pull him along with her. Why would he keep a quiet flower blooming in a bare and deserted terrain, when here she could become so much more? With her herbal room, a pagoda to drag him to, a room to rest more comfortably?
Every night she would ask Are you there?
And every night he would answer I am here.
He halted suddenly, and was forced to suppress his smile. Dae Man asked him if everything was alright, and the man squinted his eyes because of the sudden brightness that invaded his soul, “I have a good feeling about this year, Dae Man.” He said, quickly, and resumed his walk. “Pledged aunt, do you have some of that soup?”
.
.
A sudden thought scared him.
He’d been sleeping peacefully, dreaming of his own heart, when he turned and saw Eun Soo; standing there. She wore the clothes he’d brought her with from the Heavens, and had her bag dangling from her shoulder. She neared him, touching his cheek and smiling.
Thank you for everything. I am grateful. And finally she turned and left, Choi Young couldn’t follow, because he could not move. She walked into the darkness that was quickly gathering around him, silence and stillness enveloping his heart. His world froze over again, and his body became colder than the ice Ki Cheon had used to freeze him with; and there was no hope. Then her voice whispered: But I was never real.
He woke up with a deep gasp, eyes widening as he did so, and was suddenly frozen in bed, unable to move out of fear.
Why would she come to her dreams? Only dead people came to his dreams.
Was he probably losing faith in her return?
Unable to return to sleep he stood, and walked over to the small slit of an opening the tent offered. The battle had been gruesome, the injured many, he himself sported a gash to his shoulder, and the men were tired. They had set up the small camp to sleep and gather their strength; they had won another chunk of land for Goryeo and deserved to rest. There had been some merriment for a while, but the camp had settled into silence; the Vice General had the first watch, and so Choi Young put on his armor, gathered his sword and exit the tent, walking over to the post the man had set.
“Daejang.”
“Go rest.”
“I’m alright, you rest sir.” And sighing the General stood beside his companion. “Sir?”
“Choong-sik,”
“Yes.”
“You do remember the High Doctor, do you?”
“Yes, of course. She’s a character not easy to forget.” The man watched the general after answering, and frowned slightly. “Is something wrong, sir?”
He could not tell the man he felt fear but he turned, and nodded. “Have I waited too long?”
“No. It’s been merely a measly four years.” That had the general chuckling. “Sir, if your faith is wavering, let it be steeled with this thought: She is real, she is returning.” Choi Young said nothing, allowing the words to sink.
He turned, and slapped the man’s shoulder. “Go rest, I’ll stand guard.” And following the order, Choong-sik bowed and left, but not before turning to gaze at the general in worry.
Was his faith so little that it was already wavering?
.
.
Choi Young was called in to visit the Queen and greet her properly. After all since the battle started he had not visited the Queen. Why was he even in need of visiting the Queen? Taking a deep breath he followed his aunt to the door, was announced and asked to come in, and he did so; followed by the female warriors and his aunt.
“Majesty, General Choi Young.” Said Lady Choi, as the man bowed.
“General, so good to see you. Please, sit down.”
He hesitated for a second, the last time she asked him to sit she’d checked his temperature. But right now it was very little consequence; she would not touch him. So he sat, and set his sword beside the chair. “I wanted to ask if the house and all the furniture were to your liking.” She started, obviously curious.
“Yes, Majesty, I liked them very much.”
“Lady Choi told me you at first were apprehensive of taking the land.” And his eyes surfed the air to find his aunt, who shrugged her shoulders, and took in a deep breath.
“Only out of courtesy, madam.”
“The King was more than happy to give you the house, and it is nothing compared to all you have given us.” And the Queen served the tea, showing off her amazing skills at the art. She set the cup before the man, and smiled. “Please drink.” He gave a bow and took the simple cup, tasting the brew.
It was the best tea he tasted in a very, very long time.
“I hope to be served tea at your place, when the High Doctor returns.”
“You and the King will be more than welcome, Majesty.”
“I pray every day for her safe return, and hope she is well and healthy wherever she is.” He remained quiet. “To be able to do so one must have an unwavering faith, like the pillars of the house you now have, strong and powerful; that would last through a lifetime. So even if you are to wait for her forever, do so with a quiet and faithful heart. The more you trust in your faith, the sooner we’ll have her here.”
There was a knock on the door, and the King was announced. They both stood, Choi Young moving out of the path of sight so the man could get a good look at his wife once he entered, and bowed. The King entered, smiling.
“I heard from Do chi that Choi Young was here and decided to come and interrupt your tea; why not have lunch together, all three of us?”
“I like very much the idea, Majesty.”
“General?”
“You honor me with such invitation, sir.”
“Then let us go.” And waiting for the Queen to stand beside him, the King did not move forward. She smiled and gave a knowing smile at the general and moved, both royals moving forward, the general following and then the escorts.
Was his faith so little, and so obvious, that even the Queen wanted to make it grow?
Was his faith the reason she was kept away? The thought frightened his heart.
In The Years Imja Was Gone
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
A fourth year, a fourth return with empty hands.
Instead of sitting in his office he walked to his bed and sat, staring at the far wall; he didn’t stay there long, but he rested his back on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a longer while.
Was this because of his faith?
Yet he waited four years, he’d trusted her return; why was he left the simple memories of bittersweet fighting, the warmth of her hand against his kisses and the simple knowledge of her return? Didn’t he deserve something more? At least a promise of her return, or a kiss?
A simple look?
Anger flared in his body, warming it up; his hand reached forward and grabbing the first thing he could find shattered a vase with flowers against the far wall, then the chair was thrown over and some other pieces of furniture, when he reached for the pillow to rip into pieces, because his anger was yet to be vented and in desperation…
The paper caught his attention.
He’d seen it a hundred times, a million times; to know that her soft fingers had graced such puny item made his heart shrink and his callused fingers reached for it. Unfolding it, he sat on bed, while the door opened and revealed Deok Man and the Vice General, who looked around in surprise at all the destruction done in less than a minute. The numbers were large, some crossed over, only the last number uncovered with the thick cross of ink.
“Sir.”
Why was he so desperate? Had she not traced these crossed while waiting for death, marking every hour of very day? Hadn’t she cherished every moment because she was by his side? Even while standing before the valley of shadow and death… There was sunlight filtering because he was there… His eyes turned across the room, where the small pots she’d left there were still there, and the bottle of aspiring among them; a small shrine to her existence.
“Sir what happened here?”
Choi Young didn’t answer, but turned slightly to the man his mind wild with thought of darkness and desperation. He didn’t speak, worrying his men, and lowered his sight to the paper in hand. Only the last number was uncrossed, probably for some unfair reason.
I’ve cross the bridge of time, I’ve cross the heart of men with my sword and it took a woman, untamable and fierce, to cross all those same things and with nothing but her words. I have met my match and I have lost utterly and terribly so; then if she is away what must I do to retrieve her?
Even if you are to wait for her forever, do so with a quiet and faithful heart.
The words the Queen had left in his heart echoed loudly, and seemed to open a path unseen for him.
This number is for you to cross. Let it be the last year you return with empty hands. And daring to damage something he cherish so much, and item left as a relic from Hwata, Choi Young reached forward and with the brush, dipped in the ink well he kept over the desk, crossed the number.
The End... (Now go read: Less Than a Hundred Years) :D