[Infinite] And The Looking Glass Falls -Part 2-
Title: And The Looking Glass Falls (2/3)
Author: Heiji Hatsutori
Length: 8,332 words
Genre: AU, Angst
Pairing: Bandfic
Rating: PG
Summary:
There is an old grave digger living on a shack beside the cemetery on the hill. No one knows his name, or how old he is, but he has been there from the start, they say; back when the town was nothing but remnants of the last war, which ends when a great fire burns everything down till there is nothing left but ashes.
A/N:
Originally posted here as part of Infinite Minibang/Bigbang 2013 at dashidorawa.
I'm dedicating this to all my friends here in Lj; sorry I missed your birthday and since I'm a fail like that, for the ones with upcoming birthdays this year, do take this as early birthday gift. You can also think of this as a token of my apology for being away for so long, and for not taking the initiative to strike up conversations like before. Thus, allow me to humbly apologize for my incompetence as a friend. <(_ _)> Hope you like this and let's talk more, people! \O/
(If you don't read Infinite, well, um...sorry! T_T Maybe you can change/imagine the characters to people from your fandom...? OTL)
Special shout out to my lovely dongsaeng and 'editor'; Ainin, this is for you. Also Ryuu and Nazo for keeping up with my crazy rant and rambling along the course of completing this monster and crazy long of a fic; I swear the story wrote itself and teamed up with my brain without my proper knowledge. ;A;
Now with fanmix. Download or listen to the playlist.
AND THE LOOKING GLASS FALLS
-Part 1- -Part 2-
*******
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
I would take all the shame to the grave
-Year 150X-
From afar, the wind blows, as if it is a signal for something that is yet to be known.
It sweeps his cheek gently, warm against his tousled hair, and Sungjong leans his side to the balcony, eyes staring above the dark sky, his mind wanders. He is supposed to retire early tonight; they are going for a long travel to the neighboring country tomorrow, but for some reason he feels unease by the whole thing, and there is no star in sight tonight to soothe his bundling nerves.
They have prepared long and hard for this; the documents, the discussion topics, the establishment of relations, the arguments just in case, Sungjong has practiced and went over them a million times in order to ensure that he will do well. This is important to give off a good impression to King Lee Howon, but also to establish his position as the future king of the country to his own people.
He knows that the palace’s position is rocky at best after the death of the Lord Chancellor, and he understands the people basically think of him as a puppet for the office, a perfect doll for the ministers to usurp the throne with the king ill on bed. And the chance for the overthrow to happen is the royal visit to drive him out of the country altogether.
He knows what is going to unfold, which is why he requested Lord Marshall Jang Dongwoo to come with him, despite the man’s position is to be by the king, especially when there is a possibility of the king assassinated.
The Marshall must have thought this too, for the surprise coloring his face was obvious at the order, but the king has granted him the permission, and the ever so loyal Marshall is not one to disobey.
And his father, the wise king, must have predicted things too, when he told the man.
“From now on, your king is Crown Prince Lee Sungjong, Lord Marshall.”
The Marshall had accepted it gracefully, and stays by his side ever since, that he is sure there are alarms ringing in the ministers head at the sight, which is a pleasure to Sungjong. The king has always said he is a cunning prince anyway, and his boyish look is nothing but a mask of innocence to display for everyone to see.
After all, he is not going down without a fight, and if it means tearing down the castle and country, he will. He is fully prepared of any consequences, and is ready for all the blame. He doesn’t mind being the black sheep of the royal family, if it means his people can have a better future.
He learnt from the previous monarch of the neighboring country, who pay the king a visit, some years ago, that a king is nothing without his subjects. And judging from the way the messenger -Lee Sungyeol if he recalls correctly- lights up visibly at the mention of his king, his successor King Lee Howon must have be a good person and monarch indeed.
But if the man really do thinks about his people, then, why did he agreed with this visit, at this timing, knowing full well that they might got sweep into their internal problems? No matter how much thinking Sungjong did, he can’t seem to come to a reasonable answer, and it irks him much more than it should.
Surely he can see this coming; that Sungjong is nothing but a trouble brewing black.
Still, why?
He turns around and repeats the question to Dongwoo, who has been there for awhile, standing silently behind the drapes, and he can see the man’s brow furrowed, before shaking his head softly.
“Pardon me, your Highness, but I, too, can’t seem able to answer this.”
Sungjong throws his gaze outside again, and squints hard, but his eyes meet nothing.
Behind him Lord Marshall Jang Dongwoo tightens his knuckles, it turns white.
Meanwhile across the sea a certain Lee Howon is leaning on his balcony, hands clutching the newest letter from a king across the region, and doesn’t flinch when a soft, almost silent footstep stops a few feet behind him.
He is too used to Woohyun sneaking up on him like that.
“Your Highness, the preparations is almost complete.”
He nods at that, and almost feels sorry for working Woohyun so hard. But then maybe everyone had already known, and long accepting it before he did, for he expected quite a fuss over the whole ordeal. Instead, the affair just moves seamlessly, as if predetermined long time ago.
He almost feels bitter at that despite himself.
“We’re now waiting for your order to proceed as planned.”
He turns around and faces Woohyun this time, whose eyes are still as sharp as ever, standing tall in his black uniform, almost blending in with the dark room.
“Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun, do you understand what’s happening now?”
The man nods, once, firm. Of course, he thinks, he is a soldier through and through.
“Woohyun,” he starts, and there is a flicker in the dark brown eyes.
“Answer me honestly, as an individual, as a person named Nam Woohyun.”
Again, a nod, albeit a bit questioning in nature, as if he is hesitating.
He is fine with that too.
“Do you understand what’s going to happen now?”
He is openly staring now, and he knows Woohyun will give him an answer.
Like always.
“I- I understand.”
That is all he need, really, the hesitation, because he is cruel; to Woohyun who never disobey him, not even once, to Sunggyu who never questions him, working till late night at the royal office, to Sungyeol who is away again under his order and might never see his country ever again, to his people who always gives him strength, to Crown Prince Lee Sungjong who he will meet later, and especially to the late king, the previous monarch, for he will go down as the worst king in their history.
He is going to destroy this country with his own hands.
Howon throws his gaze outside again, and closes his eyes, meeting the darkness.
Behind him Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun stands eerily still, hands limp on the side.
*******
Some things we don't talk about, rather do without
And just hold a smile
-Year 152X-
The traveler watches and listens, as the man known as the grave digger talks, softly at first, about the reason he didn’t talk before, and proceeds to talk about the place and the people, his eyes shines so bright it hurts. In turn, the traveler shares about the places he had been, the people he had met, with carefully constructed words, and from time to time the grave digger will nods knowingly, signaling for him to continue.
There is something about the way the man listens intently, how his eyes soften, and a smile tugging at the corner of the lips. The wind blows gently around them and he is tempted, very much so, to stop going round the corners, once he confirmed that the man had met Myungsoo before.
There is just no escaping this, he thinks, not in this lifetime.
He already rules out amnesia, or any other possible health problem that might stop the grave digger from speaking beyond the town’s current situation, but he just can’t seem to ask directly, for fear of being shunned away instead.
Or rather, he doesn’t think he is in any position to do so. Not when he, too, keeps on skirting the topic, avoiding any mention of history. Still, he thinks, screw this, and he is about to say it when the man beat him to it.
“Are we going to keep dancing around like this, Mr. Traveler?”
In the end, he is still the same helpless person, as he was years ago, for he can only smile, tongue-tied. Instead, the grave digger takes his hand, roughens by years, and gives it a squeeze.
“Let’s talk, and let it go.”
His heart almost stops beating right there and then.
“Before this life, too, come to pass.”
He is sure the man can feel his hand trembling despite himself.
“Lord Marshall.”
It takes all of his willpower not to cry.
*******
I hit you and you hit me back
We fall to the floor, the rest of the day stands still
-Year 150X-
There is something about the country that feels a bit off, Dongwoo thinks, as they walk on the main road; perhaps it’s the less busy road compare to his home country, perhaps the mainly closed shops, but most of all it’s the people crowding up the side of the road with warm smiles on their faces, welcoming the small convoy made of Crown Prince Lee Sungjong on the horse, him, and 10 trusted soldiers directly under the Marshall’s command as they march down the road towards the hill, where the palace stands tall.
Dongwoo knows he shouldn’t doubt the sincerity of people, especially when they are here as the guests instead of the host, but he just can’t seem able to shake off the weird feeling that nestled in him ever since they step foot on the land, as if an invisible dark cloud is hanging all over the country.
He steals a glance at the crown prince, who is a bit overwhelmed by the whole thing, judging from the way he grips the rein a bit too tightly. He wouldn’t blame the prince though, for it is a totally different reception from the people back home; all calm and polite smiles as the convoy marched on the busy street. Still, he has to hand it to the young man; for the face remains composed as ever, befitting of his title.
He smoothes his dark maroon dress uniform, adjusted the kepi, and walks on confidently.
At the end of the long main street stood men in black dress uniforms, and unconsciously he skim through the faces, looking for the tall squire and messenger, only to catch the eye of one young man at the end of the line instead.
In fact, the soldier actually stares at him openly -or is it a dazed look instead - and one elbow on the side seems to do the trick, for it snaps him out of the reverie, and Dongwoo is left biting the inside of his cheeks to ensure that he doesn’t laugh right there and then.
And Dongwoo for sure can never imagine the young man to be an assistant Marshall, who goes by L instead of a proper name, and leads them up the hill with 2 other by his sides, the rest of the line starts dissolving slowly to their respective positions.
The walk up the hill is quite short, though that may be because he is admiring the scenery unfolding before him. There is nothing but deep forests behind the hill, though he spies farms and ranches, as well as terraces. Facing the palace is the entirety of the town, and the blue sea that separates both countries. As expected, he can’t see his home land from up here, though maybe he can catch a glimpse of it if he squints hard enough.
The palace itself is quite simple, and not as grand in decoration or style, though there is a thrill behind his spine when L leads them along the Hall of Mirrors before stopping at the end of the long hallway, right at the start of the west wing of the castle. The young man knocks on a huge door, sharp and precise, before opening it wide and stepping aside to make way for the crown prince and him; the rest of the convoy stand a few feet with the castle’s guards behind them.
Before them sits King Lee Howon on the throne, who welcomes them warmly and rises to greet their crown prince. He catches eye with a man wearing an overcoat standing at the right side of the throne and yet another young soldier who stands by the left side of it. He recognizes them as the Lord Chancellor and the Lord Marshall of the country almost immediately.
It still astonished him on how young these people seems to be to rule a country, -not saying anything on how he seems almost the same age with them anyways- but then he takes a look at King Lee Howon himself and it’s not hard to understand. The king is young, but his eyes shine with confidence and charisma, something he hoped he will see in their future king.
After the brief obligatory introduction and formalities, they were shown around the castle by His Highness himself, who clearly intends to make them feel as comfortable as much as possible, and they appreciates it very much, though there is something about the hardness of his eyes that makes him wonder.
Later when His Highness excuses himself and the crown prince retires at the guest chamber; he catches sight of Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun at the palace’s garden, his dark hair glistens under the sunlight, the kepi left forgotten on a hedge nearby. Beside him, Lord Chancellor Kim Sunggyu stands with slumped shoulders, heads lowered, and even when he can only see their backs, he understands.
That is all he needed to see, to know that something is wrong. There is yet a sight of a certain squire by the name of Lee Sungyeol; which means either he is on a different duty or away with another message to another country. And he is not a Lord Marshall for nothing to not notice that the majority of the townspeople are actually all soldiers; there is something about army people’s aura that stood out to him, that he can recognize one in a crowd anywhere.
King Lee Howon has prepared, and even anticipates it to happen; the war.
Still, he cannot help but feels as if there is something missing.
He turns and makes way to the guest room instead, the gears in his head turning, just when Sunggyu turns around and stares at the spot he stood a few seconds ago. Woohyun chuckles lightly and remarks that Dongwoo has caught L’s staring disease, to Sunggyu’s amusement.
Above them dark clouds are brewing, brought by the wind across the sea.
*******
I’m bad at things like this
Where to start, what to do
-Year 152X-
Following the guide from the old journal and the bits of story from the traveler he met at the ruins, Myungsoo walks on to a new country, one that was said to grow and profits considerably after the war. Even when the officials had denied it time and time again and there is lack of concrete proof for the argument -despite being the closest country to the affected area at the time of the war, and has since expanded its territory to reach almost the far end of the region instead-, it’s hard not to think so; with the way the greens greets him as far as the eye can see. One can see that agriculture is clearly this country’s strong point, despite the main export being technology and man power.
And there is a reason why the country is so unpopular among travelers; the people here are hardly friendly, and uphold the ‘what you see is what you get’ rule, sealing their mouth shut about almost everything, keeping outsiders at an arm’s length. If anything, they keep a close knit among them, which might stems from the fact that the King Kim Jongwan is a bit traditional for a monarch, and keeps a quiet presence among the rulers in the region.
Myungsoo still doesn’t know if coming here is the right decision, considering the long travel that may or may not be a waste of his time, but he had been to almost every country at the region and even if it contributes nothing to his goal, it doesn’t hurt to add something new on his own journal, which has grown to be his most prized possession ever.
He reaches a small village that is the farthest from the main city, nearing the border to the next region, and is awestruck at the scenery, which may come down as one of the best he had ever seen in his life; the mountain stood tall with the peak covered with snow, the surrounding forests covered in mist, the field of flowers on each side of the road, and simple cottages spread out, a simple garden or field by its side, filled with vegetables of various kinds.
He continues walking along when a loud thud resounds on his left, as if something heavy just drop on the ground. He turns carefully, and there is a man -a farmer, perhaps, as he stands on his own set of field crops- staring straight at him, his mouth opens slightly, sweat glistens down his sharp jaw.
“L…?”
He almost drops his backpack at that; for it is not the first time somebody mistaken him as a certain soldier -assistant Marshall, in fact, though he still can’t get use to the idea of him having a face similar to such a high-rank personnel in an army- but only a select few have the idea on the name, as ridiculous a single alphabet as a name goes.
He braves himself and walks closer, watching as the man stand shock still, and bows.
“Hello,” he starts, and for a second he thought maybe it’s not a good idea; what if the man picked up the shovel and flung it at him? Who knows who this person might be? Either way he must be a soldier; or used to be one, to call him L, he thinks.
Instead, the man bows back at him, shaking the head a bit, and smiles softly.
“Sorry, you…look a lot like somebody I used to know.”
That is surprising, he thinks, for usually people will feign ignorance at that, something he is, sadly, kind of get used to. It’s very rare for a person to acknowledge that, and he caught himself feeling a bit courageous, or maybe a tad reckless all in one.
“I heard that a lot.”
There is no evident hint of surprise at all, as if totally stating that yes; they are indeed that similar, perhaps. The man picks up the shovel, eyes focusing on the crops, and he berates himself for getting tongue-tied. He has never been good at communicating with people, despite dealing with them every single time.
At times like this he often finds himself wondering, if L is better at this than he is.
“Would you like some water or something?”
He lifts his head so fast he is seeing stars, and a light chuckle greets his ears.
He nods, regaining his senses as he makes his way to where the man is standing by the door before disappears inside. He stood awkwardly there, leaning against the wall when the man shows up again with a flask of water, motioning him to come in and sit at the chair by the side of the door, and remarks something about hot weather and he needs a break from farming anyway.
He gratefully accepts the glass, and gulps it down slowly, savoring the feel of cool water in his throat, and almost chokes it out when he caught a sight of a kepi on the low table at the corner.
He knows that headdress so well, and the insignia inscribed on it, for he had admired the design every time he sees the drawing of it in the old journal in his backpack. And it must have been so obvious on his face, for the man is now staring hard at him, eyes narrowed and fist clenched.
“Give me your name, where you’re from, and the purpose you’re here.”
The man sounds eerily calm, though he knows better as it sends shiver down his spine.
Slowly, he puts the glass down, his hands shaking slightly, betraying his stoic facade.
“I am-
*******
Knowing my lacking and knowing my greed
I am not arrogant about the things I have
-Year 150X-
True to predictions, as if it’s in the schedule all along, there are sightings of the neighboring country’s army at the border between both countries just 2 days after the arrival of the convoy. Crown Prince Lee Sungjong just finished presenting their side of agreement when L came in, reporting the situation.
For a full minute there is an unbreakable silence at the round table.
To be perfectly honest, Sungjong is not surprised; that just means the ministers have finally assassinate the king and announce it as the king succumbed to his long illness, seize the power of the army, and now ready to take the convoy back under the pretext of ‘securing the safety of the new king’ when all they want is make him the king and control everything behind the scene. To soothe the people they might make Dongwoo the Lord Chancellor to retain the support to the palace -they know the Lord Marshall is the only one powerful and influential enough to stop them anyway- and to avoid rebellion within the army and the citizens.
Sungjong almost scoffed at the thought; too predictable, he thinks.
And he might just nail it from the way Dongwoo just nods at the news.
After what feels like an eternity, King Lee Howon breaks the silence with a sigh and -Sungjong can never guess this- a smile.
“Too predictable, I say.”
He watches as Lord Chancellor Kim Sunggyu rolls his eyes and Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun brings his hand to his mouth, probably to stop himself from actually snickering out loud. Dongwoo actually laughs beside him, the sound ringing in his ears.
Guess that’s it then, he thinks, as he relaxes into the chair, and smirks, eyes lazy.
“Indeed it is.”
There is a glint in King Lee Howon’s eyes, as the man smiles openly.
“I hope you like this place, Crown Prince, for you might have to prolong your stay.”
Sungjong laughs this time; he really likes this monarch’s brand of humor.
“It’s king now, Your Highness, and thank you for the hospitality; I’ll enjoy this.”
The feeling might in fact be mutual, from the way the host laughs easy at that remark.
Immediately after that they cleared the table from all the papers and documents, and proceed to play chess instead, to which he won 2 out of 3 games, all the while chattering about anything and everything but the situation they are currently in.
He can almost hear the Chancellor muttering something about weird monarchs.
Later he joins Howon for tea at the Hall of Mirrors and dismisses Dongwoo, ordering him to prepare for any possibilities of an attack or help Woohyun and Sunggyu instead. He starts to breathe easy when they are left alone at the long hallway, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the other king. Yet, the man said nothing, and they enjoy the silence, until Howon starts.
“I’m not signing the agreement this year.”
Go figure, he thinks.
“And I’m not returning King Lee Sungjong and his convoy back to their country.”
He puts the cup back on the low table between them.
“Your army will breech the border after the next 48 hours at most.”
Maybe earlier than that, but he digress.
“We are fully prepared here.”
Obviously, he can see it from the very first day he arrived.
“Majority of the citizens have been evacuated to another country.”
He stills at that, and turns to face the monarch, whose face is totally calm, as if they are just discussing the weather. As if evacuating the people, the subjects, the very reason a king can uphold his position; out of his very own land is the most normal thing to do.
Yes, he himself had made a plan of destroying his own palace; for him a country does not necessarily need a king anyway, but a country cannot survive without the people, no. An abandoned country is just like an inhabited island. The technology, the buildings, the long history and traditions; everything will be lost forever without another generation to pass it to.
King Lee Howon is not just destroying the palace; he is crushing his own country.
His thoughts must have been transparent on his face, for the monarch smiles at him, softly, apology in his eyes.
“I intended for this war to happen, right from the start.”
He wants to ask why, but stops himself from blurting it out, as it dawns on him.
It all makes sense now, everything is.
“So the rumor is true, then.”
He can see Howon gripping the armchair, so hard his fist turns white.
“The plague is here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he can see Sunggyu at the end of the hall, clutching the documents as if his life depended on it, and stands still, rooted on the ground.
He throws his gaze outside and watches as dusk coloring the sky orange and red, and feels his shoulders sagged against the chair, his heart sinking. He pretends he doesn’t hear Dongwoo falls on his knees with a thud so loud behind the half-closed door, it echoes.
For the first time in a long while, he feels like crying.
So much it hurts.
*******
Come with me in the twilight of a summer night for awhile
Tell me of a story never ever told in the past
-Year 151X-
The first time a much younger Kim Myungsoo visits the traveler at his cottage is when he runs an errand for the owner of the antique shop he works for -or is it the bakery? He can’t remember- and nearly drops the package on the man’s feet when the door opens. Flustered, he apologizes profusely, but the man simply laughs and invites him in.
He can barely recall the interior, for it’s as simple as one can get; simple couches, low table, just the necessities, but he remember being so fascinated by little trinkets adorning the walls and shelf’s; portraits, colored pictures, small cases, embroidery, and much more stuffs he never seen elsewhere before.
He was so engrossed with them that he didn’t realize the man is watching him until a hand ruffles his head, bringing him back to reality. Stunned, and feeling utterly terrified of being scolded, he bolts out of the door, ignoring the calls behind him.
They met again a couple of days later, when Myungsoo is out on an errand again. This time, though, the man smiles softly, and actually apologizes, for scaring him. He was astonished to say the least; for he is the one who should apologize, and when he said it out loud, the man simply laughs, and pets his hair.
“You are very kind, Myungsoo.”
Needless to say, that was the start of their friendship, which remains for many years to come. For Myungsoo, it had been a routine, almost, to bid the man with well-wishes at the start of each trip and to go over the cottage whenever the traveler returns from his long trips with stories to tell, new trinkets on the shelf and occasional gifts to Myungsoo, who will gladly receive them and -he will never tell this- kept carefully in a case he bought with his first salary.
Every time, the traveler will talk about anything and everything, and Myungsoo can never, ever feel bored by it. He had been living at the small village his entire life as far as he can remember, and the man’s story is the only hope he holds when he lies down on bed at night, that he, too, can leave the place someday.
Because of that, too, he secretly asked the man to teach him self-defense when he gets a bit older, and skills that might be necessary for trips, like cooking and stuff, to which the traveler gladly indulges him.
The routine continues until he turns 20.
He remembers it well, somehow; it was calm, and cool summer night; he is lying down on the ground after yet another failed attempt to launch a sneak attack on the traveler, who laughs merrily at his fail. He had grown tall, and had taken to do farm works to build his strength these recent years, dark bangs reaching his eyes.
“Myungsoo,” the man starts, as he lifts his body up to a sitting position.
There was something different in the eyes that night; he can’t place what it is.
“There is one thing I didn’t tell you.”
The air is chilly, and it sends a fit of shiver down his back.
“Promise me, that you will keep this yourself, until the day you die.”
He doesn’t hesitate at all when he nods at that, and the man might have seen that coming, for he only smiles before going back into the cottage and returns with a backpack, one that he knew so well, for the traveler always use it and only it every time he is away.
He watches as the man brings out an old journal and hands it to him. He flips through it to see nothing but handwritten notes, and illustrations filling the thick journal, all the way to the last page.
“That, is all the memories I have from my home land.”
A knot starts forming in his stomach, for the man had never, not even once, bring up the place he origins from. He had tempted to ask, time and time again, but he is too much a coward for possible confrontations. The journal feels heavy in his hands, and after a reassurance nod, he opens and reads the first page.
They stay like that, in silence, until he finished everything.
He had heard of the story before, about a country with a young king, and its neighboring country. How a war erupted between both countries and a plague sweeps them both under its feet, collapsing everything. He had heard of it so much, he can recite it by heart. He had guessed that it must be an important matter, for the traveler to retell the story over and over again, but never in his wildest dreams can he imagine this.
The traveler was one of the living citizens of the forgotten country.
And somewhere out there, all the people in the story; the king, the soldiers, the royal officers, they might be alive somewhere. He understands now, why the traveler never stops traveling, despite having a place he can call home.
“Myungsoo,” the traveler calls, softly.
The man must be searching for them, and the truth about the land.
His eyes unconsciously lands on the other’s hand, gripping hard on the legs. He had seen the doctor coming out of the cottage this afternoon, and he knew.
There is no such thing like walking forever.
He owes the man so much, for giving him a dream he never knew he wanted.
“I will look for them, Sungyeol-hyung.”
*******
All things keep flowing
In this world, there is no end
-Year 150X-
Looking back at it now, Howon thinks, it was a very normal day.
The sun is bright above them, and the wind is dancing in his hair, the seagulls flying effortlessly makes for quite spectacular scenery. Hoya is sitting at his usual spot at the port; relaxing after 2 days of coping in the royal office with Sunggyu, going through the agreement for this year’s contract with the neighboring country.
Sure, there is still quite some time before the expiry date of the previous agreement, but trust the Chancellor to prepare everything in advance. Quoting the elder; we never know what will happen next, so do tomorrow’s work today in order to buy more time later.
In a way, he agrees with the quote, but he always wishes the Lord Chancellor will just take it easy and actually rest, seriously. He swears the man works a bit too hard every single time. Shaking his head at the thought, he focuses on searching for the usual lanky frame of Sungyeol only to freeze mid-wave.
For Sungyeol is wearing a full uniform instead of the usual casual clothes, complete with the kepi, and behind him is another similarly dressed man, except the color is royal blue. He recognizes the color and insignia anywhere, for it stands out in his memory.
Dread starts pooling at his stomach, for nothing is ever good if Sungyeol comes back like that, more so when there’s another person with him, and he is sure Woohyun can read his thought -he needs to tell the Marshall sometime that disguises is utterly useless when the opponent can see him clearly- as he rushes back to the castle, using shortcuts to ensure he arrives earlier than the messengers. He can almost hear Woohyun’s footsteps behind him, but he has no time to turn back and confirm it.
He must look so bad that everyone basically rushes aside when he pass by, and Sunggyu almost drops the pile of documents on his hands when he storms in the royal office, grabbing the royal garb, and proceed to change into the royal outfit without a word. He hears Woohyun’s voice floats softly before the door shuts behind him, confirming his earlier thoughts, as he starts controlling his breathing in order to calm himself down.
Had it been other king’s royal messenger, he might not be as shaken as he is now, really. But it’s King Kim Jongwan, and the monarch never sends the royal messenger -the squire named Lee Junghoon- for trivial matter. It’s always just letters from Lord Chancellor Lee Jaekyung, and if it’s something that requires his presence, chances he will send Lord Marshall Jung Jaewon instead, that not many people outside of his country had seen how the ruler looks like.
He actually grips a pen so hard it snaps into two in his hands, just when there is a soft knock on the door, before it opens and Sunggyu steps in, announcing the arrival of a royal messenger from King Kim Jongwan. He nods at that, face neutral, and walks out to receive the guest.
He ignores the grave look on the Chancellor’s face, and prepares for the worst.
And indeed, he thinks, there can’t be anything worse than this.
He watches how the Chancellor goes paler every second, white as face as a sheet -if that is even possible- and the Marshall gritting his teeth so hard, veins popping out at the side of his head. Sungyeol just stands there, face blank, as Junghoon talks; and he has to hand it to the royal messenger for being so straightforward; the man does not even bother to mince his words.
Not that it will do anyone any good anyway. If anything, he is grateful for the honesty.
“Allow me to apologize for bearing such news to you, Your Highness.”
He shakes his head at that, softly thanking the messenger, for making a long trip for this. The man bites his lips and lowers his head instead, before he is dismissed. The door shuts with L escorting the messenger to the guest chamber, and the silence that follows the echo is almost deafening.
To be perfectly honest, Howon has thought of the possibility at the back of his mind, when the draught worsens by day and the amount of crops dying increases tenfold than usual. The nagging thought stays put in his head when he helped the old farmer the other day, how the soil is not as rich and dry in his hands. As a ruler of a country that deals with agriculture, he had taken upon himself to learn everything there is need to know about it; from the soils to the crop, from the farming process to harvesting, all the way to exports in quality and quantity.
That is how the country have managed to hold itself together, all these years, after the plague that strikes the country and the area of region half a century ago, killing every soil and plant, deriving the people from the main source of food, which lead to great hunger and high rate of death in people.
The previous monarch had been so young when he took over the throne, just when they barely survive the disaster, and spent the whole of his life designing ways to enrich the land, all while struggling in the palace. He remembered, so well, when the first crop he worked with the late king was harvested; the monarch had been so happy he cried, for no one believed in him and his orthodox ways, not even the people in the palace. The techniques was applied to every land at the country immediately after, and the result was astounding, to say the least.
The country starts to prosper, and Howon thought they were invisible, until the monarch fell ill due to long time of overworking. He had been young then, still in his teens, when the king announced him, the crown prince to take over the post at the royal office, and dismissed the Chancellor and Marshall at the time, telling him to pick his own people.
Needless to say there is an outrage within the palace, to which the monarch simply banished everyone out; the man was always stubborn to a fault. There is few to no resistance from the people, who had come to love the king, and so the royal family begins to scatter apart, and announce the cut of relation with the country, effectively diminishing the territory under the control of the palace.
The monarch, he remembered, just laugh it off, saying it’s easier to handle smaller country and manage the economy. Howon had agreed immensely with that.
And so he picked Kim Sunggyu, the young teacher at the local school and his tutor as the Lord Chancellor, for the man is arguably bright for his age, always bringing up unconventional and new ideas to improve and grows the country. The king had liked him immediately after Sunggyu simply criticize the usage of portraits to cover the side of the long hallway on his first visit to the palace, deeming it unsightly and boring -he had no idea he was talking to the king of the country, by the way- and the monarch had re-enact the situation to him hilariously before changing it all to mirrors and named it the Hall of Mirrors, just to spite the young Chancellor.
Howon knows Sunggyu hates the hallway the most, if only because it reminds him of the late king. They get along well, and the king always addresses him as his friend, to which the Chancellor honors greatly.
In the contrary, he picked Nam Woohyun, the very talented soldier despite his age as the Lord Marshall to balance their personality, for the man is quiet and stiff at times, but can be highly manipulative, which is a good counter to Sunggyu’s straight-as-an-arrow ways. The man actually manages to make the Chancellor change his schedule not once, but twice in the span of less than 24 hours, to the king’s amusement. Woohyun, too, had come to dearly love the king, who is not afraid to cut him in the middle of practice -nobody stops Nam Woohyun in his serious mode, and not when he is holding his sword- just for a game of chess.
Howon never knows what the king told the Marshall on his deathbed, but whatever it was, it seemed to do him good, for he starts to mature considerably -though the man still keeps on pulling pranks once in awhile with Sungyeol- and starts to open up to people, in which he is always grateful for.
A soft sound of a broken twig snaps him out of his reverie, and he turns to see L a few feet behind him, eyes downcast. He smiles at the man, and beckons him closer, to which he did, after a few moment of hesitation. In a way, L is almost the odd one out in the castle but also the closest to each trait of another’s personality. He is quiet like Woohyun, but extremely so that it’s hard to hear him utter a word; he is smart like Sunggyu, but has his moment of fail when he zones out too much, but most of all he is unpredictable, since he is the most un-soldier-like soldier in the army after Sungyeol, that it is almost amazing how he is made the assistant Marshall.
Hell, if only the late king had the pleasure of knowing this man; he will make him the second Lord Marshall in a heartbeat, just for the kicks. The monarch had attempted to create the post for Sungyeol, when his prank drives the whole palace in frenzy and amused him to no end, but stops after both Sunggyu and Woohyun threaten to leave their post instead.
Personally, Howon always have a soft spot on L, if only because he is always there, when he is tired to be Howon the ruler but too responsible to let loose like the smiley Hoya, when he is just a man, simply, him. And L never said a thing, never judge him; he just simply sit there, and listens to whatever he wants to say, even when he is in front of the late monarch, Lee Jungyeob’s tombstone, and never afraid to say his opinion when he ask for it, like now.
“This is your country, Your Highness. You own it, so do as you please.”
He stares at the man as if he just grown a second head, and L -bless the guy- simply stares back, like always. He is too stunned that he just laughs, incredulously, without a care of anything, clutching his stomach with a hand and the assistant Marshall’s shoulder with another.
Trust L to say things like that with a straight face, really. Of course he will-
“You are the king, Howon. This country is yours to take.”
The late king’s last words echoes in his mind, effectively stops him mid-laugh.
“Screw responsibilities; just do what you want, what you deem right.”
They were rumors that L can communicate with ghosts circulating around when he first arrived, particularly because he always stares into empty spaces. Nobody actually confirms the truth, though it turns out Sungyeol is the one that starts the rumor, and everybody knows better than to believe the man and his 1001 rumors about the palace.
He is neither a believer in ghosts nor do he is one to believe in rumors, but maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t mind seeing one now, perhaps.
“Have faith, Howon.”
He smiles to the confused L, and makes his way back in the palace; an idea hatched itself inside his head. He spends the next few days confining in the royal office and archives, opening back old journals and notes from the late king’s life-long researches, all to concoct a plan to ensure no one will die this time. The plague will not take anyone from him, no, not under his reign.
He loves his people, so much, that he is willing to sacrifice everything.
Thus everything he gives, for he basically orders Sunggyu and Woohyun to accept the plan instead of the usual round table, abusing his powers for the first time since he take the post years ago, and like L said, doing as he pleases.
Just when he is ready to go down as a tyrant, an opportunity shows itself, in the form of a war with the shaky neighboring country. If the country be in a war, nobody will question the need to remove all citizens and abandon it in the process. Admittedly he had been reluctant to take it at first, for the idea of having another country involved doesn’t sit well with him, until Sunggyu points out that he will actually save everyone the trouble of doing the explaining -something the Chancellor clearly knows he dislike.
He knows Crown Prince Lee Sungjong will have to come over for the agreement, and it is an open secret that the politics in the palace is the worst people have seen in the region since their very own late king’s banishment of the royal family, so he made a deal with the king -start the war in exchange for guaranteed safety of the crown prince throughout the whole ordeal- way before the agreement date.
Sunggyu calls him ridiculous -what kind of a king will start a war just because the neighboring king asked him to- but Lord Marshall Jang Dongwoo pays a visit to the palace, under a secret order of the king, to convey his agreement, instead.
The king, as it turns out, simply wants to pay the favor he owes to the late king, and if it means Howon can be friendly with his son, the crown prince; it will be an added bonus. Woohyun had actually snickers at that, calling the late king a savior in unexpected timing while Sunggyu seethes, muttering something like troll monarch under his breath. The indescribable look on the Lord Marshall’s face prompting Howon to ask, and Woohyun roars with laughter when Dongwoo openly admits he doesn’t understand his own king’s decision either, which doesn’t help matters in Sunggyu’s headache and stress-level.
He can feel the questioning eyes of the Lord Marshall on him, but he only smiles.
What he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him, he thinks, for he had actually mentioned the plague in the letter to the king, albeit in a passing remark. And in the reply letter brought by the Lord Marshall is the confirmation about the matter; apparently Lord Marshall Jung Jaewon had pay them a visit not long after the royal messenger Lee Junghoon return, under the pretext of friendly visit due to the concern over the king’s health.
King Kim Jongwan really knows exactly how to get things going, it’s almost amazing.
Which leads to the present predicament, as the fleet of army from the neighboring country approaches their shoreline. It is earlier than he thought, and when he mentioned it King Lee Sungjong just shrugs in response, to his amusement. But then the other king must have known his army better than anyone anyway.
Not like it will change anything at this point now.
The last of the citizens had been successfully moved out of the country, via the forest road that leads them straight to the skirts of King Kim Jongwan’s country. He had made a deal with the king after the confirmation of the war; to take refuge of all his people in exchange to all knowledge of agriculture collected over the years. Sunggyu had said that he was too generous; he countered back that the people are a lot more worthy than a bunch of documents.
The move was done in stages, a couple of small families at times, so as to not arouse suspicions. Every time a group of soldiers in 3’s will be in disguise to escort them and make the necessary arrangements, before reporting to Sungyeol who is working closely with Junghoon at the country’s palace in order to ensure everything goes smoothly. In the wake of the situation King Kim Jongwan had prepared small villages at inconspicuous places for the people, and alerted his own citizens on the situation, to which they welcome openly, to Howon’s gratefulness.
The people there, too, according to Sunggyu were not natives of the land; most of them were people under the colonial states that used to be under the late king’s reign, which met its demise in a way or another, and by some weird twist of fate, come to be under the reign of King Kim Jongwan.
In a way, he thinks, it’s like King Kim Jongwan just took over the whole country instead, albeit indirectly. Woohyun actually frowned at that, and walked out quietly; something he does whenever he is displeased with something but can’t find it in him to voice it out loud.
L took to apologized and bowed deeply before hitting him with a document on behalf of his superior, and Sunggyu glared at him, before launching into a full-on lecture about responsibilities and keeping some thought to self instead of saying it.
Howon understands that regardless of the situation, he is their king, and King Kim Jongwan had made it clear that he had no intention of making the people swore their loyalty to him and the country -they can come and go as they please- for the world is a huge place to be. That is one of the main reason the people agreed to the move, for there is always the possibility of them returning, and Howon don’t have the heart to tell them don’t instead.
He doesn’t think he holds the right to say anything, not after he had failed them. He keeps that thought to himself, of course, for Sunggyu will lecture him again -this time maybe on pride and royalty- and Woohyun might break something out of frustration, so he holds his tongue.
He keeps everything in, and watches from the middle section of the Hall of Mirrors as Lord Marshal Nam Woohyun took his place at the main road below them, Assistant Marshall L beside him, going through the strategy one last time, the squads of soldiers in positions, ready for the attack. Lord Chancellor Kim Sunggyu is shaking slightly beside him, and King Lee Sungjong’s face is eerily blank as he sits there, motionless, while Lord Marshall Jang Dongwoo stealing glances here and then at him.
King Lee Howon closes his eyes, and hears the first fire.
-Part 3-
Author: Heiji Hatsutori
Length: 8,332 words
Genre: AU, Angst
Pairing: Bandfic
Rating: PG
Summary:
There is an old grave digger living on a shack beside the cemetery on the hill. No one knows his name, or how old he is, but he has been there from the start, they say; back when the town was nothing but remnants of the last war, which ends when a great fire burns everything down till there is nothing left but ashes.
A/N:
Originally posted here as part of Infinite Minibang/Bigbang 2013 at dashidorawa.
I'm dedicating this to all my friends here in Lj; sorry I missed your birthday and since I'm a fail like that, for the ones with upcoming birthdays this year, do take this as early birthday gift. You can also think of this as a token of my apology for being away for so long, and for not taking the initiative to strike up conversations like before. Thus, allow me to humbly apologize for my incompetence as a friend. <(_ _)> Hope you like this and let's talk more, people! \O/
(If you don't read Infinite, well, um...sorry! T_T Maybe you can change/imagine the characters to people from your fandom...? OTL)
Special shout out to my lovely dongsaeng and 'editor'; Ainin, this is for you. Also Ryuu and Nazo for keeping up with my crazy rant and rambling along the course of completing this monster and crazy long of a fic; I swear the story wrote itself and teamed up with my brain without my proper knowledge. ;A;
Now with fanmix. Download or listen to the playlist.
AND THE LOOKING GLASS FALLS
-Part 1- -Part 2-
*******
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
I would take all the shame to the grave
-Year 150X-
From afar, the wind blows, as if it is a signal for something that is yet to be known.
It sweeps his cheek gently, warm against his tousled hair, and Sungjong leans his side to the balcony, eyes staring above the dark sky, his mind wanders. He is supposed to retire early tonight; they are going for a long travel to the neighboring country tomorrow, but for some reason he feels unease by the whole thing, and there is no star in sight tonight to soothe his bundling nerves.
They have prepared long and hard for this; the documents, the discussion topics, the establishment of relations, the arguments just in case, Sungjong has practiced and went over them a million times in order to ensure that he will do well. This is important to give off a good impression to King Lee Howon, but also to establish his position as the future king of the country to his own people.
He knows that the palace’s position is rocky at best after the death of the Lord Chancellor, and he understands the people basically think of him as a puppet for the office, a perfect doll for the ministers to usurp the throne with the king ill on bed. And the chance for the overthrow to happen is the royal visit to drive him out of the country altogether.
He knows what is going to unfold, which is why he requested Lord Marshall Jang Dongwoo to come with him, despite the man’s position is to be by the king, especially when there is a possibility of the king assassinated.
The Marshall must have thought this too, for the surprise coloring his face was obvious at the order, but the king has granted him the permission, and the ever so loyal Marshall is not one to disobey.
And his father, the wise king, must have predicted things too, when he told the man.
“From now on, your king is Crown Prince Lee Sungjong, Lord Marshall.”
The Marshall had accepted it gracefully, and stays by his side ever since, that he is sure there are alarms ringing in the ministers head at the sight, which is a pleasure to Sungjong. The king has always said he is a cunning prince anyway, and his boyish look is nothing but a mask of innocence to display for everyone to see.
After all, he is not going down without a fight, and if it means tearing down the castle and country, he will. He is fully prepared of any consequences, and is ready for all the blame. He doesn’t mind being the black sheep of the royal family, if it means his people can have a better future.
He learnt from the previous monarch of the neighboring country, who pay the king a visit, some years ago, that a king is nothing without his subjects. And judging from the way the messenger -Lee Sungyeol if he recalls correctly- lights up visibly at the mention of his king, his successor King Lee Howon must have be a good person and monarch indeed.
But if the man really do thinks about his people, then, why did he agreed with this visit, at this timing, knowing full well that they might got sweep into their internal problems? No matter how much thinking Sungjong did, he can’t seem to come to a reasonable answer, and it irks him much more than it should.
Surely he can see this coming; that Sungjong is nothing but a trouble brewing black.
Still, why?
He turns around and repeats the question to Dongwoo, who has been there for awhile, standing silently behind the drapes, and he can see the man’s brow furrowed, before shaking his head softly.
“Pardon me, your Highness, but I, too, can’t seem able to answer this.”
Sungjong throws his gaze outside again, and squints hard, but his eyes meet nothing.
Behind him Lord Marshall Jang Dongwoo tightens his knuckles, it turns white.
Meanwhile across the sea a certain Lee Howon is leaning on his balcony, hands clutching the newest letter from a king across the region, and doesn’t flinch when a soft, almost silent footstep stops a few feet behind him.
He is too used to Woohyun sneaking up on him like that.
“Your Highness, the preparations is almost complete.”
He nods at that, and almost feels sorry for working Woohyun so hard. But then maybe everyone had already known, and long accepting it before he did, for he expected quite a fuss over the whole ordeal. Instead, the affair just moves seamlessly, as if predetermined long time ago.
He almost feels bitter at that despite himself.
“We’re now waiting for your order to proceed as planned.”
He turns around and faces Woohyun this time, whose eyes are still as sharp as ever, standing tall in his black uniform, almost blending in with the dark room.
“Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun, do you understand what’s happening now?”
The man nods, once, firm. Of course, he thinks, he is a soldier through and through.
“Woohyun,” he starts, and there is a flicker in the dark brown eyes.
“Answer me honestly, as an individual, as a person named Nam Woohyun.”
Again, a nod, albeit a bit questioning in nature, as if he is hesitating.
He is fine with that too.
“Do you understand what’s going to happen now?”
He is openly staring now, and he knows Woohyun will give him an answer.
Like always.
“I- I understand.”
That is all he need, really, the hesitation, because he is cruel; to Woohyun who never disobey him, not even once, to Sunggyu who never questions him, working till late night at the royal office, to Sungyeol who is away again under his order and might never see his country ever again, to his people who always gives him strength, to Crown Prince Lee Sungjong who he will meet later, and especially to the late king, the previous monarch, for he will go down as the worst king in their history.
He is going to destroy this country with his own hands.
Howon throws his gaze outside again, and closes his eyes, meeting the darkness.
Behind him Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun stands eerily still, hands limp on the side.
*******
Some things we don't talk about, rather do without
And just hold a smile
-Year 152X-
The traveler watches and listens, as the man known as the grave digger talks, softly at first, about the reason he didn’t talk before, and proceeds to talk about the place and the people, his eyes shines so bright it hurts. In turn, the traveler shares about the places he had been, the people he had met, with carefully constructed words, and from time to time the grave digger will nods knowingly, signaling for him to continue.
There is something about the way the man listens intently, how his eyes soften, and a smile tugging at the corner of the lips. The wind blows gently around them and he is tempted, very much so, to stop going round the corners, once he confirmed that the man had met Myungsoo before.
There is just no escaping this, he thinks, not in this lifetime.
He already rules out amnesia, or any other possible health problem that might stop the grave digger from speaking beyond the town’s current situation, but he just can’t seem to ask directly, for fear of being shunned away instead.
Or rather, he doesn’t think he is in any position to do so. Not when he, too, keeps on skirting the topic, avoiding any mention of history. Still, he thinks, screw this, and he is about to say it when the man beat him to it.
“Are we going to keep dancing around like this, Mr. Traveler?”
In the end, he is still the same helpless person, as he was years ago, for he can only smile, tongue-tied. Instead, the grave digger takes his hand, roughens by years, and gives it a squeeze.
“Let’s talk, and let it go.”
His heart almost stops beating right there and then.
“Before this life, too, come to pass.”
He is sure the man can feel his hand trembling despite himself.
“Lord Marshall.”
It takes all of his willpower not to cry.
*******
I hit you and you hit me back
We fall to the floor, the rest of the day stands still
-Year 150X-
There is something about the country that feels a bit off, Dongwoo thinks, as they walk on the main road; perhaps it’s the less busy road compare to his home country, perhaps the mainly closed shops, but most of all it’s the people crowding up the side of the road with warm smiles on their faces, welcoming the small convoy made of Crown Prince Lee Sungjong on the horse, him, and 10 trusted soldiers directly under the Marshall’s command as they march down the road towards the hill, where the palace stands tall.
Dongwoo knows he shouldn’t doubt the sincerity of people, especially when they are here as the guests instead of the host, but he just can’t seem able to shake off the weird feeling that nestled in him ever since they step foot on the land, as if an invisible dark cloud is hanging all over the country.
He steals a glance at the crown prince, who is a bit overwhelmed by the whole thing, judging from the way he grips the rein a bit too tightly. He wouldn’t blame the prince though, for it is a totally different reception from the people back home; all calm and polite smiles as the convoy marched on the busy street. Still, he has to hand it to the young man; for the face remains composed as ever, befitting of his title.
He smoothes his dark maroon dress uniform, adjusted the kepi, and walks on confidently.
At the end of the long main street stood men in black dress uniforms, and unconsciously he skim through the faces, looking for the tall squire and messenger, only to catch the eye of one young man at the end of the line instead.
In fact, the soldier actually stares at him openly -or is it a dazed look instead - and one elbow on the side seems to do the trick, for it snaps him out of the reverie, and Dongwoo is left biting the inside of his cheeks to ensure that he doesn’t laugh right there and then.
And Dongwoo for sure can never imagine the young man to be an assistant Marshall, who goes by L instead of a proper name, and leads them up the hill with 2 other by his sides, the rest of the line starts dissolving slowly to their respective positions.
The walk up the hill is quite short, though that may be because he is admiring the scenery unfolding before him. There is nothing but deep forests behind the hill, though he spies farms and ranches, as well as terraces. Facing the palace is the entirety of the town, and the blue sea that separates both countries. As expected, he can’t see his home land from up here, though maybe he can catch a glimpse of it if he squints hard enough.
The palace itself is quite simple, and not as grand in decoration or style, though there is a thrill behind his spine when L leads them along the Hall of Mirrors before stopping at the end of the long hallway, right at the start of the west wing of the castle. The young man knocks on a huge door, sharp and precise, before opening it wide and stepping aside to make way for the crown prince and him; the rest of the convoy stand a few feet with the castle’s guards behind them.
Before them sits King Lee Howon on the throne, who welcomes them warmly and rises to greet their crown prince. He catches eye with a man wearing an overcoat standing at the right side of the throne and yet another young soldier who stands by the left side of it. He recognizes them as the Lord Chancellor and the Lord Marshall of the country almost immediately.
It still astonished him on how young these people seems to be to rule a country, -not saying anything on how he seems almost the same age with them anyways- but then he takes a look at King Lee Howon himself and it’s not hard to understand. The king is young, but his eyes shine with confidence and charisma, something he hoped he will see in their future king.
After the brief obligatory introduction and formalities, they were shown around the castle by His Highness himself, who clearly intends to make them feel as comfortable as much as possible, and they appreciates it very much, though there is something about the hardness of his eyes that makes him wonder.
Later when His Highness excuses himself and the crown prince retires at the guest chamber; he catches sight of Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun at the palace’s garden, his dark hair glistens under the sunlight, the kepi left forgotten on a hedge nearby. Beside him, Lord Chancellor Kim Sunggyu stands with slumped shoulders, heads lowered, and even when he can only see their backs, he understands.
That is all he needed to see, to know that something is wrong. There is yet a sight of a certain squire by the name of Lee Sungyeol; which means either he is on a different duty or away with another message to another country. And he is not a Lord Marshall for nothing to not notice that the majority of the townspeople are actually all soldiers; there is something about army people’s aura that stood out to him, that he can recognize one in a crowd anywhere.
King Lee Howon has prepared, and even anticipates it to happen; the war.
Still, he cannot help but feels as if there is something missing.
He turns and makes way to the guest room instead, the gears in his head turning, just when Sunggyu turns around and stares at the spot he stood a few seconds ago. Woohyun chuckles lightly and remarks that Dongwoo has caught L’s staring disease, to Sunggyu’s amusement.
Above them dark clouds are brewing, brought by the wind across the sea.
*******
I’m bad at things like this
Where to start, what to do
-Year 152X-
Following the guide from the old journal and the bits of story from the traveler he met at the ruins, Myungsoo walks on to a new country, one that was said to grow and profits considerably after the war. Even when the officials had denied it time and time again and there is lack of concrete proof for the argument -despite being the closest country to the affected area at the time of the war, and has since expanded its territory to reach almost the far end of the region instead-, it’s hard not to think so; with the way the greens greets him as far as the eye can see. One can see that agriculture is clearly this country’s strong point, despite the main export being technology and man power.
And there is a reason why the country is so unpopular among travelers; the people here are hardly friendly, and uphold the ‘what you see is what you get’ rule, sealing their mouth shut about almost everything, keeping outsiders at an arm’s length. If anything, they keep a close knit among them, which might stems from the fact that the King Kim Jongwan is a bit traditional for a monarch, and keeps a quiet presence among the rulers in the region.
Myungsoo still doesn’t know if coming here is the right decision, considering the long travel that may or may not be a waste of his time, but he had been to almost every country at the region and even if it contributes nothing to his goal, it doesn’t hurt to add something new on his own journal, which has grown to be his most prized possession ever.
He reaches a small village that is the farthest from the main city, nearing the border to the next region, and is awestruck at the scenery, which may come down as one of the best he had ever seen in his life; the mountain stood tall with the peak covered with snow, the surrounding forests covered in mist, the field of flowers on each side of the road, and simple cottages spread out, a simple garden or field by its side, filled with vegetables of various kinds.
He continues walking along when a loud thud resounds on his left, as if something heavy just drop on the ground. He turns carefully, and there is a man -a farmer, perhaps, as he stands on his own set of field crops- staring straight at him, his mouth opens slightly, sweat glistens down his sharp jaw.
“L…?”
He almost drops his backpack at that; for it is not the first time somebody mistaken him as a certain soldier -assistant Marshall, in fact, though he still can’t get use to the idea of him having a face similar to such a high-rank personnel in an army- but only a select few have the idea on the name, as ridiculous a single alphabet as a name goes.
He braves himself and walks closer, watching as the man stand shock still, and bows.
“Hello,” he starts, and for a second he thought maybe it’s not a good idea; what if the man picked up the shovel and flung it at him? Who knows who this person might be? Either way he must be a soldier; or used to be one, to call him L, he thinks.
Instead, the man bows back at him, shaking the head a bit, and smiles softly.
“Sorry, you…look a lot like somebody I used to know.”
That is surprising, he thinks, for usually people will feign ignorance at that, something he is, sadly, kind of get used to. It’s very rare for a person to acknowledge that, and he caught himself feeling a bit courageous, or maybe a tad reckless all in one.
“I heard that a lot.”
There is no evident hint of surprise at all, as if totally stating that yes; they are indeed that similar, perhaps. The man picks up the shovel, eyes focusing on the crops, and he berates himself for getting tongue-tied. He has never been good at communicating with people, despite dealing with them every single time.
At times like this he often finds himself wondering, if L is better at this than he is.
“Would you like some water or something?”
He lifts his head so fast he is seeing stars, and a light chuckle greets his ears.
He nods, regaining his senses as he makes his way to where the man is standing by the door before disappears inside. He stood awkwardly there, leaning against the wall when the man shows up again with a flask of water, motioning him to come in and sit at the chair by the side of the door, and remarks something about hot weather and he needs a break from farming anyway.
He gratefully accepts the glass, and gulps it down slowly, savoring the feel of cool water in his throat, and almost chokes it out when he caught a sight of a kepi on the low table at the corner.
He knows that headdress so well, and the insignia inscribed on it, for he had admired the design every time he sees the drawing of it in the old journal in his backpack. And it must have been so obvious on his face, for the man is now staring hard at him, eyes narrowed and fist clenched.
“Give me your name, where you’re from, and the purpose you’re here.”
The man sounds eerily calm, though he knows better as it sends shiver down his spine.
Slowly, he puts the glass down, his hands shaking slightly, betraying his stoic facade.
“I am-
*******
Knowing my lacking and knowing my greed
I am not arrogant about the things I have
-Year 150X-
True to predictions, as if it’s in the schedule all along, there are sightings of the neighboring country’s army at the border between both countries just 2 days after the arrival of the convoy. Crown Prince Lee Sungjong just finished presenting their side of agreement when L came in, reporting the situation.
For a full minute there is an unbreakable silence at the round table.
To be perfectly honest, Sungjong is not surprised; that just means the ministers have finally assassinate the king and announce it as the king succumbed to his long illness, seize the power of the army, and now ready to take the convoy back under the pretext of ‘securing the safety of the new king’ when all they want is make him the king and control everything behind the scene. To soothe the people they might make Dongwoo the Lord Chancellor to retain the support to the palace -they know the Lord Marshall is the only one powerful and influential enough to stop them anyway- and to avoid rebellion within the army and the citizens.
Sungjong almost scoffed at the thought; too predictable, he thinks.
And he might just nail it from the way Dongwoo just nods at the news.
After what feels like an eternity, King Lee Howon breaks the silence with a sigh and -Sungjong can never guess this- a smile.
“Too predictable, I say.”
He watches as Lord Chancellor Kim Sunggyu rolls his eyes and Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun brings his hand to his mouth, probably to stop himself from actually snickering out loud. Dongwoo actually laughs beside him, the sound ringing in his ears.
Guess that’s it then, he thinks, as he relaxes into the chair, and smirks, eyes lazy.
“Indeed it is.”
There is a glint in King Lee Howon’s eyes, as the man smiles openly.
“I hope you like this place, Crown Prince, for you might have to prolong your stay.”
Sungjong laughs this time; he really likes this monarch’s brand of humor.
“It’s king now, Your Highness, and thank you for the hospitality; I’ll enjoy this.”
The feeling might in fact be mutual, from the way the host laughs easy at that remark.
Immediately after that they cleared the table from all the papers and documents, and proceed to play chess instead, to which he won 2 out of 3 games, all the while chattering about anything and everything but the situation they are currently in.
He can almost hear the Chancellor muttering something about weird monarchs.
Later he joins Howon for tea at the Hall of Mirrors and dismisses Dongwoo, ordering him to prepare for any possibilities of an attack or help Woohyun and Sunggyu instead. He starts to breathe easy when they are left alone at the long hallway, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the other king. Yet, the man said nothing, and they enjoy the silence, until Howon starts.
“I’m not signing the agreement this year.”
Go figure, he thinks.
“And I’m not returning King Lee Sungjong and his convoy back to their country.”
He puts the cup back on the low table between them.
“Your army will breech the border after the next 48 hours at most.”
Maybe earlier than that, but he digress.
“We are fully prepared here.”
Obviously, he can see it from the very first day he arrived.
“Majority of the citizens have been evacuated to another country.”
He stills at that, and turns to face the monarch, whose face is totally calm, as if they are just discussing the weather. As if evacuating the people, the subjects, the very reason a king can uphold his position; out of his very own land is the most normal thing to do.
Yes, he himself had made a plan of destroying his own palace; for him a country does not necessarily need a king anyway, but a country cannot survive without the people, no. An abandoned country is just like an inhabited island. The technology, the buildings, the long history and traditions; everything will be lost forever without another generation to pass it to.
King Lee Howon is not just destroying the palace; he is crushing his own country.
His thoughts must have been transparent on his face, for the monarch smiles at him, softly, apology in his eyes.
“I intended for this war to happen, right from the start.”
He wants to ask why, but stops himself from blurting it out, as it dawns on him.
It all makes sense now, everything is.
“So the rumor is true, then.”
He can see Howon gripping the armchair, so hard his fist turns white.
“The plague is here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he can see Sunggyu at the end of the hall, clutching the documents as if his life depended on it, and stands still, rooted on the ground.
He throws his gaze outside and watches as dusk coloring the sky orange and red, and feels his shoulders sagged against the chair, his heart sinking. He pretends he doesn’t hear Dongwoo falls on his knees with a thud so loud behind the half-closed door, it echoes.
For the first time in a long while, he feels like crying.
So much it hurts.
*******
Come with me in the twilight of a summer night for awhile
Tell me of a story never ever told in the past
-Year 151X-
The first time a much younger Kim Myungsoo visits the traveler at his cottage is when he runs an errand for the owner of the antique shop he works for -or is it the bakery? He can’t remember- and nearly drops the package on the man’s feet when the door opens. Flustered, he apologizes profusely, but the man simply laughs and invites him in.
He can barely recall the interior, for it’s as simple as one can get; simple couches, low table, just the necessities, but he remember being so fascinated by little trinkets adorning the walls and shelf’s; portraits, colored pictures, small cases, embroidery, and much more stuffs he never seen elsewhere before.
He was so engrossed with them that he didn’t realize the man is watching him until a hand ruffles his head, bringing him back to reality. Stunned, and feeling utterly terrified of being scolded, he bolts out of the door, ignoring the calls behind him.
They met again a couple of days later, when Myungsoo is out on an errand again. This time, though, the man smiles softly, and actually apologizes, for scaring him. He was astonished to say the least; for he is the one who should apologize, and when he said it out loud, the man simply laughs, and pets his hair.
“You are very kind, Myungsoo.”
Needless to say, that was the start of their friendship, which remains for many years to come. For Myungsoo, it had been a routine, almost, to bid the man with well-wishes at the start of each trip and to go over the cottage whenever the traveler returns from his long trips with stories to tell, new trinkets on the shelf and occasional gifts to Myungsoo, who will gladly receive them and -he will never tell this- kept carefully in a case he bought with his first salary.
Every time, the traveler will talk about anything and everything, and Myungsoo can never, ever feel bored by it. He had been living at the small village his entire life as far as he can remember, and the man’s story is the only hope he holds when he lies down on bed at night, that he, too, can leave the place someday.
Because of that, too, he secretly asked the man to teach him self-defense when he gets a bit older, and skills that might be necessary for trips, like cooking and stuff, to which the traveler gladly indulges him.
The routine continues until he turns 20.
He remembers it well, somehow; it was calm, and cool summer night; he is lying down on the ground after yet another failed attempt to launch a sneak attack on the traveler, who laughs merrily at his fail. He had grown tall, and had taken to do farm works to build his strength these recent years, dark bangs reaching his eyes.
“Myungsoo,” the man starts, as he lifts his body up to a sitting position.
There was something different in the eyes that night; he can’t place what it is.
“There is one thing I didn’t tell you.”
The air is chilly, and it sends a fit of shiver down his back.
“Promise me, that you will keep this yourself, until the day you die.”
He doesn’t hesitate at all when he nods at that, and the man might have seen that coming, for he only smiles before going back into the cottage and returns with a backpack, one that he knew so well, for the traveler always use it and only it every time he is away.
He watches as the man brings out an old journal and hands it to him. He flips through it to see nothing but handwritten notes, and illustrations filling the thick journal, all the way to the last page.
“That, is all the memories I have from my home land.”
A knot starts forming in his stomach, for the man had never, not even once, bring up the place he origins from. He had tempted to ask, time and time again, but he is too much a coward for possible confrontations. The journal feels heavy in his hands, and after a reassurance nod, he opens and reads the first page.
They stay like that, in silence, until he finished everything.
He had heard of the story before, about a country with a young king, and its neighboring country. How a war erupted between both countries and a plague sweeps them both under its feet, collapsing everything. He had heard of it so much, he can recite it by heart. He had guessed that it must be an important matter, for the traveler to retell the story over and over again, but never in his wildest dreams can he imagine this.
The traveler was one of the living citizens of the forgotten country.
And somewhere out there, all the people in the story; the king, the soldiers, the royal officers, they might be alive somewhere. He understands now, why the traveler never stops traveling, despite having a place he can call home.
“Myungsoo,” the traveler calls, softly.
The man must be searching for them, and the truth about the land.
His eyes unconsciously lands on the other’s hand, gripping hard on the legs. He had seen the doctor coming out of the cottage this afternoon, and he knew.
There is no such thing like walking forever.
He owes the man so much, for giving him a dream he never knew he wanted.
“I will look for them, Sungyeol-hyung.”
*******
All things keep flowing
In this world, there is no end
-Year 150X-
Looking back at it now, Howon thinks, it was a very normal day.
The sun is bright above them, and the wind is dancing in his hair, the seagulls flying effortlessly makes for quite spectacular scenery. Hoya is sitting at his usual spot at the port; relaxing after 2 days of coping in the royal office with Sunggyu, going through the agreement for this year’s contract with the neighboring country.
Sure, there is still quite some time before the expiry date of the previous agreement, but trust the Chancellor to prepare everything in advance. Quoting the elder; we never know what will happen next, so do tomorrow’s work today in order to buy more time later.
In a way, he agrees with the quote, but he always wishes the Lord Chancellor will just take it easy and actually rest, seriously. He swears the man works a bit too hard every single time. Shaking his head at the thought, he focuses on searching for the usual lanky frame of Sungyeol only to freeze mid-wave.
For Sungyeol is wearing a full uniform instead of the usual casual clothes, complete with the kepi, and behind him is another similarly dressed man, except the color is royal blue. He recognizes the color and insignia anywhere, for it stands out in his memory.
Dread starts pooling at his stomach, for nothing is ever good if Sungyeol comes back like that, more so when there’s another person with him, and he is sure Woohyun can read his thought -he needs to tell the Marshall sometime that disguises is utterly useless when the opponent can see him clearly- as he rushes back to the castle, using shortcuts to ensure he arrives earlier than the messengers. He can almost hear Woohyun’s footsteps behind him, but he has no time to turn back and confirm it.
He must look so bad that everyone basically rushes aside when he pass by, and Sunggyu almost drops the pile of documents on his hands when he storms in the royal office, grabbing the royal garb, and proceed to change into the royal outfit without a word. He hears Woohyun’s voice floats softly before the door shuts behind him, confirming his earlier thoughts, as he starts controlling his breathing in order to calm himself down.
Had it been other king’s royal messenger, he might not be as shaken as he is now, really. But it’s King Kim Jongwan, and the monarch never sends the royal messenger -the squire named Lee Junghoon- for trivial matter. It’s always just letters from Lord Chancellor Lee Jaekyung, and if it’s something that requires his presence, chances he will send Lord Marshall Jung Jaewon instead, that not many people outside of his country had seen how the ruler looks like.
He actually grips a pen so hard it snaps into two in his hands, just when there is a soft knock on the door, before it opens and Sunggyu steps in, announcing the arrival of a royal messenger from King Kim Jongwan. He nods at that, face neutral, and walks out to receive the guest.
He ignores the grave look on the Chancellor’s face, and prepares for the worst.
And indeed, he thinks, there can’t be anything worse than this.
He watches how the Chancellor goes paler every second, white as face as a sheet -if that is even possible- and the Marshall gritting his teeth so hard, veins popping out at the side of his head. Sungyeol just stands there, face blank, as Junghoon talks; and he has to hand it to the royal messenger for being so straightforward; the man does not even bother to mince his words.
Not that it will do anyone any good anyway. If anything, he is grateful for the honesty.
“Allow me to apologize for bearing such news to you, Your Highness.”
He shakes his head at that, softly thanking the messenger, for making a long trip for this. The man bites his lips and lowers his head instead, before he is dismissed. The door shuts with L escorting the messenger to the guest chamber, and the silence that follows the echo is almost deafening.
To be perfectly honest, Howon has thought of the possibility at the back of his mind, when the draught worsens by day and the amount of crops dying increases tenfold than usual. The nagging thought stays put in his head when he helped the old farmer the other day, how the soil is not as rich and dry in his hands. As a ruler of a country that deals with agriculture, he had taken upon himself to learn everything there is need to know about it; from the soils to the crop, from the farming process to harvesting, all the way to exports in quality and quantity.
That is how the country have managed to hold itself together, all these years, after the plague that strikes the country and the area of region half a century ago, killing every soil and plant, deriving the people from the main source of food, which lead to great hunger and high rate of death in people.
The previous monarch had been so young when he took over the throne, just when they barely survive the disaster, and spent the whole of his life designing ways to enrich the land, all while struggling in the palace. He remembered, so well, when the first crop he worked with the late king was harvested; the monarch had been so happy he cried, for no one believed in him and his orthodox ways, not even the people in the palace. The techniques was applied to every land at the country immediately after, and the result was astounding, to say the least.
The country starts to prosper, and Howon thought they were invisible, until the monarch fell ill due to long time of overworking. He had been young then, still in his teens, when the king announced him, the crown prince to take over the post at the royal office, and dismissed the Chancellor and Marshall at the time, telling him to pick his own people.
Needless to say there is an outrage within the palace, to which the monarch simply banished everyone out; the man was always stubborn to a fault. There is few to no resistance from the people, who had come to love the king, and so the royal family begins to scatter apart, and announce the cut of relation with the country, effectively diminishing the territory under the control of the palace.
The monarch, he remembered, just laugh it off, saying it’s easier to handle smaller country and manage the economy. Howon had agreed immensely with that.
And so he picked Kim Sunggyu, the young teacher at the local school and his tutor as the Lord Chancellor, for the man is arguably bright for his age, always bringing up unconventional and new ideas to improve and grows the country. The king had liked him immediately after Sunggyu simply criticize the usage of portraits to cover the side of the long hallway on his first visit to the palace, deeming it unsightly and boring -he had no idea he was talking to the king of the country, by the way- and the monarch had re-enact the situation to him hilariously before changing it all to mirrors and named it the Hall of Mirrors, just to spite the young Chancellor.
Howon knows Sunggyu hates the hallway the most, if only because it reminds him of the late king. They get along well, and the king always addresses him as his friend, to which the Chancellor honors greatly.
In the contrary, he picked Nam Woohyun, the very talented soldier despite his age as the Lord Marshall to balance their personality, for the man is quiet and stiff at times, but can be highly manipulative, which is a good counter to Sunggyu’s straight-as-an-arrow ways. The man actually manages to make the Chancellor change his schedule not once, but twice in the span of less than 24 hours, to the king’s amusement. Woohyun, too, had come to dearly love the king, who is not afraid to cut him in the middle of practice -nobody stops Nam Woohyun in his serious mode, and not when he is holding his sword- just for a game of chess.
Howon never knows what the king told the Marshall on his deathbed, but whatever it was, it seemed to do him good, for he starts to mature considerably -though the man still keeps on pulling pranks once in awhile with Sungyeol- and starts to open up to people, in which he is always grateful for.
A soft sound of a broken twig snaps him out of his reverie, and he turns to see L a few feet behind him, eyes downcast. He smiles at the man, and beckons him closer, to which he did, after a few moment of hesitation. In a way, L is almost the odd one out in the castle but also the closest to each trait of another’s personality. He is quiet like Woohyun, but extremely so that it’s hard to hear him utter a word; he is smart like Sunggyu, but has his moment of fail when he zones out too much, but most of all he is unpredictable, since he is the most un-soldier-like soldier in the army after Sungyeol, that it is almost amazing how he is made the assistant Marshall.
Hell, if only the late king had the pleasure of knowing this man; he will make him the second Lord Marshall in a heartbeat, just for the kicks. The monarch had attempted to create the post for Sungyeol, when his prank drives the whole palace in frenzy and amused him to no end, but stops after both Sunggyu and Woohyun threaten to leave their post instead.
Personally, Howon always have a soft spot on L, if only because he is always there, when he is tired to be Howon the ruler but too responsible to let loose like the smiley Hoya, when he is just a man, simply, him. And L never said a thing, never judge him; he just simply sit there, and listens to whatever he wants to say, even when he is in front of the late monarch, Lee Jungyeob’s tombstone, and never afraid to say his opinion when he ask for it, like now.
“This is your country, Your Highness. You own it, so do as you please.”
He stares at the man as if he just grown a second head, and L -bless the guy- simply stares back, like always. He is too stunned that he just laughs, incredulously, without a care of anything, clutching his stomach with a hand and the assistant Marshall’s shoulder with another.
Trust L to say things like that with a straight face, really. Of course he will-
“You are the king, Howon. This country is yours to take.”
The late king’s last words echoes in his mind, effectively stops him mid-laugh.
“Screw responsibilities; just do what you want, what you deem right.”
They were rumors that L can communicate with ghosts circulating around when he first arrived, particularly because he always stares into empty spaces. Nobody actually confirms the truth, though it turns out Sungyeol is the one that starts the rumor, and everybody knows better than to believe the man and his 1001 rumors about the palace.
He is neither a believer in ghosts nor do he is one to believe in rumors, but maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t mind seeing one now, perhaps.
“Have faith, Howon.”
He smiles to the confused L, and makes his way back in the palace; an idea hatched itself inside his head. He spends the next few days confining in the royal office and archives, opening back old journals and notes from the late king’s life-long researches, all to concoct a plan to ensure no one will die this time. The plague will not take anyone from him, no, not under his reign.
He loves his people, so much, that he is willing to sacrifice everything.
Thus everything he gives, for he basically orders Sunggyu and Woohyun to accept the plan instead of the usual round table, abusing his powers for the first time since he take the post years ago, and like L said, doing as he pleases.
Just when he is ready to go down as a tyrant, an opportunity shows itself, in the form of a war with the shaky neighboring country. If the country be in a war, nobody will question the need to remove all citizens and abandon it in the process. Admittedly he had been reluctant to take it at first, for the idea of having another country involved doesn’t sit well with him, until Sunggyu points out that he will actually save everyone the trouble of doing the explaining -something the Chancellor clearly knows he dislike.
He knows Crown Prince Lee Sungjong will have to come over for the agreement, and it is an open secret that the politics in the palace is the worst people have seen in the region since their very own late king’s banishment of the royal family, so he made a deal with the king -start the war in exchange for guaranteed safety of the crown prince throughout the whole ordeal- way before the agreement date.
Sunggyu calls him ridiculous -what kind of a king will start a war just because the neighboring king asked him to- but Lord Marshall Jang Dongwoo pays a visit to the palace, under a secret order of the king, to convey his agreement, instead.
The king, as it turns out, simply wants to pay the favor he owes to the late king, and if it means Howon can be friendly with his son, the crown prince; it will be an added bonus. Woohyun had actually snickers at that, calling the late king a savior in unexpected timing while Sunggyu seethes, muttering something like troll monarch under his breath. The indescribable look on the Lord Marshall’s face prompting Howon to ask, and Woohyun roars with laughter when Dongwoo openly admits he doesn’t understand his own king’s decision either, which doesn’t help matters in Sunggyu’s headache and stress-level.
He can feel the questioning eyes of the Lord Marshall on him, but he only smiles.
What he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him, he thinks, for he had actually mentioned the plague in the letter to the king, albeit in a passing remark. And in the reply letter brought by the Lord Marshall is the confirmation about the matter; apparently Lord Marshall Jung Jaewon had pay them a visit not long after the royal messenger Lee Junghoon return, under the pretext of friendly visit due to the concern over the king’s health.
King Kim Jongwan really knows exactly how to get things going, it’s almost amazing.
Which leads to the present predicament, as the fleet of army from the neighboring country approaches their shoreline. It is earlier than he thought, and when he mentioned it King Lee Sungjong just shrugs in response, to his amusement. But then the other king must have known his army better than anyone anyway.
Not like it will change anything at this point now.
The last of the citizens had been successfully moved out of the country, via the forest road that leads them straight to the skirts of King Kim Jongwan’s country. He had made a deal with the king after the confirmation of the war; to take refuge of all his people in exchange to all knowledge of agriculture collected over the years. Sunggyu had said that he was too generous; he countered back that the people are a lot more worthy than a bunch of documents.
The move was done in stages, a couple of small families at times, so as to not arouse suspicions. Every time a group of soldiers in 3’s will be in disguise to escort them and make the necessary arrangements, before reporting to Sungyeol who is working closely with Junghoon at the country’s palace in order to ensure everything goes smoothly. In the wake of the situation King Kim Jongwan had prepared small villages at inconspicuous places for the people, and alerted his own citizens on the situation, to which they welcome openly, to Howon’s gratefulness.
The people there, too, according to Sunggyu were not natives of the land; most of them were people under the colonial states that used to be under the late king’s reign, which met its demise in a way or another, and by some weird twist of fate, come to be under the reign of King Kim Jongwan.
In a way, he thinks, it’s like King Kim Jongwan just took over the whole country instead, albeit indirectly. Woohyun actually frowned at that, and walked out quietly; something he does whenever he is displeased with something but can’t find it in him to voice it out loud.
L took to apologized and bowed deeply before hitting him with a document on behalf of his superior, and Sunggyu glared at him, before launching into a full-on lecture about responsibilities and keeping some thought to self instead of saying it.
Howon understands that regardless of the situation, he is their king, and King Kim Jongwan had made it clear that he had no intention of making the people swore their loyalty to him and the country -they can come and go as they please- for the world is a huge place to be. That is one of the main reason the people agreed to the move, for there is always the possibility of them returning, and Howon don’t have the heart to tell them don’t instead.
He doesn’t think he holds the right to say anything, not after he had failed them. He keeps that thought to himself, of course, for Sunggyu will lecture him again -this time maybe on pride and royalty- and Woohyun might break something out of frustration, so he holds his tongue.
He keeps everything in, and watches from the middle section of the Hall of Mirrors as Lord Marshal Nam Woohyun took his place at the main road below them, Assistant Marshall L beside him, going through the strategy one last time, the squads of soldiers in positions, ready for the attack. Lord Chancellor Kim Sunggyu is shaking slightly beside him, and King Lee Sungjong’s face is eerily blank as he sits there, motionless, while Lord Marshall Jang Dongwoo stealing glances here and then at him.
King Lee Howon closes his eyes, and hears the first fire.
-Part 3-