"Really?" Ha-yoon exclaims, rubbing Lemmy's neck
"But shouldn't we change?"
"There's no need, this isn't an official meeting," Minho looks at Si-woo, "but cleanliness is standard."
Si-woo shies away from Minho's knowing glance.
"You sit in front of me, Si-woo, so that I may heal you on our way there,"
Si-woo nods, mounting Lemmy.
They take off into the sky, while Minho treats Si-woo. The Spires of the palace come into view on the horizon. Its large presence is a blend of ancient beauty and modern architecture that works together in intricate harmony.
The palace is a spectrum of bright hues of a rainbow, with the primary color being pure white that reflects the sun's rays. Its facade overlooks the organized landscape of lush plants and greenery, with a giant, beautiful garden fountain being the nucleus of it all.
They pass over the patrolling guards of the gate and fly towards an eastern entrance. Dismounting from the Lemmy, an armed guard in grey attire with skin-like carved jade and starlight flowing hair approaches them.
"Greetings, Headmaster Minho...and may I ask who's attending you?" The guards' sharp silver eyes glance over Ha-yoon and Si-woo.
"These are my newfound apprentices, and soon we'll be using the training grounds here," Minho replies, gesturing to the two of them.
The guard hesitates, his grip firm around his spear.
"Training new faces, huh? Well...if it's coming from you, who am I to question it? Welcome to the Royal Palace of Ondur," he announces, his voice deep and resonant.
"I hope you find everything well."
Miho looks back, a welcoming smile forming. "See? he says, waving them onwards.
"Despite their puritanical nature, they're remarkably cordial."
But all the kids could see as Minho continued to talk to the guard was the fae's massive shoulders bulging out of the silk garment, and the thick veins in his large hand as he held the spear. Instinctively, they knew these guards were not to be belittled.
Now, if I remember right, the queen's name is Elara, and the king's is Morey. Si-woo turns his glance to the courtyard. Every guard here is like a mountain. But still, none feel as prominent as Minho.
"Is everything healed?" Ha-yoon asks, taking off his sunglasses and mask at once, her head peering all over him, looking for wounds.
Si-woo stiff-arms her head, "Yeah, yeah, he cleaned me up too." He snatches his sunglasses and mask back and stores them in his backpack.
"Alright, follow me!" Minho demands, leading them to the two guards at the ornamented doorway.
"Greetings, Minho," the guard on the left says, "Would you like a guard to-"
"We do not need to be escorted, thank you," Minho interrupts.
The guards open the towering, pristine doorways, revealing the grand corridors. As they walk in, their footsteps echo off the gleaming white and gold-streaked marble floors, passing by statues and other strange craftwork pieces.
Si-woo and Ha-yoon stare at the white walls lined with paintings of kings and queens from the past. While the queens looked graceful in almost all the portraits, the king always looked stern and menacing.
The ceiling is lined with decorative chandeliers that resemble water droplets falling from the sky, and through the distant halls, maids and other servants roam.
"Are you sure you don't want at least one of them to escort us?" Ha-yoon exhausts, her eyes lost in the complex designs of the ceiling.
"Si-woo might get lost in here."
Si-woo kicks the back of her knee with just enough force to have her stumble forward.
Minho chuckles, turning a corner, "It'd be better if they didn't."
"Why?" Ha-yoon asks, dusting off her uniform skirt.
Minho stops and sets his hands on a guardless, white double-doored room.
"So they wouldn't be able to see this," he pushes open the doors, revealing a dim room with a large wooden desk in the middle, and a window behind it shining light on the bookshelves along the walls.
"An abandoned study?" Si-woo asks, his eyes searching for anything special.
"Not just any abandoned private study," Minho closes the doors.
"In the past, my dear friends and I met here to...sneak around the palace," He walks over to the left bookshelf, skimming the fifth row with his fingers.
"Since this is an unofficial meeting and King Morey has granted me permission, by simply pulling out this book on arts and craftsmanship-" He pulls down the book, the whole shelf shifts to the side, revealing a covert stone path, a long hallway lit by lanterns.
"Wow, A secret passage!" Ha-yoon awes, walking in first.
"There must be so many in this huge place," Si-woo follows in, dragging his fingers across the dry, stone wall, "Don't the guards know about this one too?"
"No, not even the queen's maids must know of this path, and even if they did know, there would be no way for them to open it."
The shelf slowly shifts back into its place with a click as Minho follows them through, "One needs to be of noble blood."
"Then noble blood must be the king's direct family, then Princess Deane is your sister?" Si-woo insinuates, looking at him from the corner of his eye.
"Not quite, the noble family consists of relatives of the queen's blood, and I entered through a ceremonial blood pact. Beforehand, during my childhood, I came across Princess Deane loitering about when she was assumed to be in her seclusion studies." Minho smiles, reminiscing on the innocent fun he had long ago.
"She had shown me and my friends the path so we would keep her company during her lonely periods. You must not tell anyone of this path, and it's best not to tell Princess Deane that I shared that story," Minho says, scratching his head nervously.
Ha-yoon skeptically glances back at his nervous face, lit by the white lanterns.
Ceremonial blood pact? And he kinda reminds me of the times my mom and dad used to tease each other...
"You must really like her," Ha-yoon teases, a knowing smirk forming on her face.
"Well, she is my wife, of course," Minho remarks.
"Really?" They both yell, their voices bouncing off the walls.
"Shh," Minho gestures, "Though yes, she's my wife. The ceremonial blood pact binds us to marriage, and me to the noble family." It has only been a couple of days since they received their cheg...Astonishment is expected.
"I knew it," Ha-yoon proudly states.
Whoa, Si-woo thought, watching Ha-yoons haughty walk. Ha-yoon's intuition is excellent.
"This path not only leads to many areas of the palace but to the queen's safe haven," Minho continues.
"What? Why would Queen Elara need that?" Ha-yoon asks, her voice echoing through the tunnel.
"In Ondur, although our king leads the land and its people, the queen is our most cherished and beloved symbol. She's the crux of Ondur."
"Then the Millennium prophetess, or whatever you call it, is the queen?" Ha-yoon questions.
"And forever will be until a new prophetess is assumed and the past one perishes. We fae have a remarkably low conception rate, but are naturally eternal beings, and during unexpected occurrences where martial law may be enacted, the queen is our utmost priority. Take a left at the next tunnel, Ha-yoon."
Ha-yoon leads them around to the left tunnel, a wooden door appears in the distance.
"Eternal beings, as in...immortals?" Si-woo asks.
"Not entirely, we can still perish from external forces, but naturally, if unbothered, we can live for eternity."
"You must've lived for a very long time then," Si-woo states, watching Ha-yoon reach for the golden doorknob.
She pauses, side glancing him, "How old are you? Ten-thousand? Twenty thousand?"
Minhos' thick eyebrows twitch, and a vein starts to form on his forehead. "No more questions, open the door," he quickly demands.
Dim sunlight shines through the tunnel as Ha-yoon opens the door. Thin white curtains flutter with a slight breeze from the adjacent, tall windows. A wooden composer's desk sits in the middle of the room facing a stand with a plethora of foreign instruments, gleaming in the sunlight.
"This room is beautiful," Ha-yoon marvels, looking up at the dome ceiling, admiring the spiraling artistry.
"This is one of the many composers' chambers of the palace," Minho says, the door closing seamlessly behind him, blending in with the white walls.
"The princess loves to come here sometimes too, another one of many vacant rooms."
Si-woo slides his index finger along the bell of a horned instrument. I was really never the best at playing instruments, and when I would practice in my room, Ye-jun would always yell at me...but then mom would yell at him. A heartwarming smile forms on his face.
"This chamber directly connects to the throne room. Prepare yourselves," Minho leads them through the tall, tapestry-detailed door across from the composer's desk.
With a deep breath, Minho opens the door, revealing the right side of the elevated stage of the grand throne.
The room is cavernous, with skylights revealing the spiraling tapestries of the ceiling. The walls are lined with crests, head statues, and other models of Ondurs history. Light dances across the white and gold marble floors that lead to the steps of the throne.
"We've arrived just in time." Minho guides them to the steps of the throne, "They'll be here shortly."
Is it because it's an unofficial meeting there are no guards? Si-woo ponders, looking at the massive double doors behind them.
Footsteps from behind the pure white, velvet throne interrupt their thoughts. Two jewelry-adorned, elegant figures with jasper-like crowns, clothed in pure white, approach the throne.
The tall, firm-statured fae, King Morey, sat down. A wave of immense power and wisdom radiated from his piercing blue eyes that seemed to see through anything in its path, and his curly silver hair lay just below his sharp ears, encapsulating his face like the white stone carvings in the room.
Beside him, holding his right hand, stood Queen Elara, her beauty so dazzling it nearly blinds. Her smooth white skin and long pearly hair possess the divinity of an angel, and her warm ivory eyes hold the gentleness of moonlight waters. Her silk garment coalesces with her jewelry, making her look like an ever-flowing white flame. The children's breath is taken away just by setting their eyes upon them.
The room is quiet. Minho steps forward, "Your Highnesses," Minho bows, his voice formal and bold, "These are the human children from Earth, Ha-yoon and Si-woo."
King Morey's eyes pierce into them, "Kneel," he booms, his voice echoing through the vast chamber. The command hung in the air, the authority weighing down on them.
Minho drops to a knee, his gaze to the marble floor as his black hair drapes over his shoulders. But before Ha-yoon could follow suit, Si-woo's hand shoots out, grabbing her arm.
"We are from Earth," Si-woo starts, his voice bold and unwavering as he stares directly into King Morey's eyes.
"The only man we kneel before is God,"
The room grew as still as a tomb; only the outside chirps of birds filled the dead silence. The silence.
Si-woo instantly realizes that along the path to the throne, to his left and right were five kneeling soldiers in gold robes. Some holding weapons and others with their hands behind their backs, still as a statue. When did they get here...
The guards' faces visibly tensed, but their gaze remained directed at the spaces in front of them. One in particular with a wolf cut as red as blood quickly diverts his gaze from Si-woos. King Morey continued to stare at Si-woo, seemingly searching for something.
After a short silence, Something in King's Morey's gaze shifts. He steps down from the throne, his snow white slides silent and precise as he graciously makes his way past Minho to Si-woo.
"Such defiance," King Morey murmurs, his smooth voice a low continuous rumble that seemed to stick to Si-woo's chest. He stops an inch from Si-woo's face, his eyes bearing into his soul, still searching, looking for something.
Ha-yoon shifts her hand into Si-woo's, squeezing it. She takes a slight step forward, ready to defend her brother.
Then, without warning, the king's stern expression shifts, and a boisterous, infectious laugh escapes from his chest, replacing the deadly uneasiness in the room. The built-up tension dissipates across the room, and the expressions of the guards reverse. Ha-yoon's eyes widen, and her grip loosens, rising to cover her mouth as she stifles a giggle.
"Pardon me humans, I have no ill intentions, " King Morey expresses, his voice filled with warmth and empathy. "You have a strong conscience of righteousness I see. I admire your spirit, young Si-woo."
He ascends the steps back to the throne, where Queen Elara stands with an elegant smile. He waves a hand, and Minho and the guards rise to their stances.
"Be at ease, there is no need for formalities between us today."
Confusion etches into Si-woo's face as his eyes flicker between the king and the grinning Minho.
"What's going on?" he asks, his voice still unwavering.
"This is how King Morey welcomes newcomers," Minho says, his words soaked in amusement. "You've made a grand impression, Si-woo."
"Indeed," King Morey says, sitting down. "Young one, the courage you hold is something all could learn from, and your sister," he turns to Ha-yoon, "you carry yourself with the dignity of a queen."
"He knows his stuff," Ha-yoon whispers to Si-woo.
The queen's gentle chuckle fills the room, "My dear," she gazes at the king, "Must you do this with every newcomer?" Her voice is like the strings of a harp playing a soothing melody across the horizons.
A smirk forms on his face before turning his gaze back on Si-woo.
"Ah, yes, I see," he said, his eyes peering deep within Si-woo's black pupils. "You're already quite adept at making a stand." His light tone suggestive with a hint of concern.
Si-woo averts his gaze. He's looking at me the same way Nurse Lila looked at me the first day of school. Does he know?
"I...I'm still getting used to the classes," he murmurs, his cheeks tinging with embarrassment. "Especially the martial art sessions."
King Morey's face remains indistinct, and for a moment, the corners of his mouth form into a smirk.
"Of course, of course," he says, his gaze enveloping him.
"A young one must overcome their trials and tribulations."
Ha-yoon stares at the throne, marveled by the rolled armrests that look like they're carved from a single piece of crystal that traveled to the throne's base, gleaming with light that casts soft rainbows across the floor.
King Morey's gaze settles as warm sunlight casts glades across the polished floors along the throne, catching on the king and queen's jewelry. The gems glitter like stars of the night, their reflections stretching across the walls.
"I've heard of the tragic encounter you've had with the sprits," he says, genuine regret lacing his voice. Minhos's gaze slightly darkens as he looks at his marred reflection through the floor.
"Since we were not able to properly guide the ambassadors of Earth, I've made accommodations to ensure that your stay in Ondur is a peaceful and enlightening one."
Si-woo and Ha-yoon slightly bow, showing respect to King Morey.
"Thank you," Si-woo returns.
Queen Elara takes a step forward, her pearl eyes enveloping the room.
"Despite the current state of your homeland, you both share strong spirits," she says, her voice flowing like a river.
"The Lord's flowers bloom in even the most devoid of environs," she says, her voice resonating through the room.
"Indeed," King Morey continues, his gaze shifting to the siblings. "This brings us to another matter at hand." King Morey lets out a sigh, resting his head on his right hand.
"A time of devastation is upon Yohen," he begins, his eyes growing distant.
"A time where many realms will be done in by evil, and Yohen won't be an exception. It would be best for my people to inhabit new lands in preparation for such an encroaching prophecy." He leans forward, his broad shoulders showing their full girth.
"We intend to send young Ondurians to Earth to integrate with the land. We've already begun the process, as you've seen with our military and economic families forging and reformations."
Is this what a king is like? Si-woo ponders, his light mood changed, talking about his kingdom, and he isn't asking like Minho did, but imposing, declaring as if what he has put in motion will not be stopped.
"What about the prophecy?" Ha-yoon asks, her voice stern, "Minho also told us about this. What does this have to do with us?"
"I believe the significance of you two coming here can't be easily ignored." Queen Elara says, her gaze meeting the beautiful grey of Ha-yoons eyes.
"Including the vision the current prophetess had foretelling your oncomings," Queen Elara waves her hand toward Si-woo and Ha-yoon.
"The previous prophetesses' unfulfilled prophesies speak of a young boy and girl from faraway lands who will be brought to our realm for valiant purposes. You see, it looks as if your world has become the median for many realms, and coming from it, you two: the potential activists for Ondurs' unfulfilled prophesies."
The siblings exchange a look of bewilderment.
"You say this as if we don't have a choice..." Ha-yoon begins, but the queen makes her way to her and gently places a hand on her shoulder.
"Please don't fret," Queen Elara assures them, her voice soothing the rough edges of their nerves.
"Past queens, even I have tried endlessly to prevent what we've envisioned, but divine prophecy is grander than all living organisms and comes from God, the God that foresees all from start to finish, revealing that no matter if one tries to defy it, it's bound to ensue."
Si-woo's eyes widen in astonishment as he tries to understand why he was in the prophetess's vision.
"It just seems too much," Ha-yoon murmurs, her voice uneasy.
Minho nods his head silently in understanding.
"We'll be fine," Si-woo says, gently rubbing Ha-yoons braided hair, "Remember? We've got each other."
Queen Elara smiles before walking back to the king's side, who is patiently watching the events unfold.
"We will reveal the specifics of the prophesies to you after you graduate from the Advanced Academy of Ondur." King Morey declares, "For we want you to enjoy as much time as a child as possible. Many events take place far into the future; your presence here is a sign of hope and a light in encroaching darkness for Ondur's citizens."
Queen Elara's eyes search theirs, soothing their fears and uncertainties with gentle reassurance. "We shall guide and teach you about serein and our culture, and together, we shall strengthen the bond between Ondur and Earth."
The children listen with rapt attention as King Morey continues, "Onto the next matter, I must inform you we will not be the only ones relocating there; The sprits, terrestrial beings, located outside of Ondurs borders, we've been communicating with the Higher sprits and we've come upon a consensus. Since the gate portal is inevitably in their territory and has conjoined with Seoul, an immigration and land treaty was forged that grants them the expansive forest around your lands. The sprits will offer protection as being on the borders of your land, though I suspect we won't have to concern ourselves with any such things anytime soon."
Ha-yoon's eyes darken while Si-woo's jaw clenches.
"You're bringing all those creatures to Earth? After what one of them did to us?" Si-woo strains his choice into a single volume, only concern and worry seeping through.
"Remain calm," the king says, his words firm but not unkind.
"As you know, the sprit that intervened with you two was a Lesser sprit, escaped from the confines of their land and the Higher sprits' supervision, mad by their hunger or instability between the realms. The Higher sprits rule over them and have comparable intelligence to us fae. The sprits will obey the treaty if they wish to coexist."
Si-woo's nerves slightly dissipate. He looks down at his hand holding Ha-yoons, and with a comforting sway, her eyes fill with determination as she nods, taking a deep breath.
King Morey gazes upon them, then he speaks, his voice somehow stern and compassionate.
"Once more, I sincerely apologize for the hardship you've faced. Since you've taken your first step in Ondur, it was my responsibility to ensure your safety. I've shared our intentions and will offer you our protection as if you're one of our own."
King Morey sits up straight, adjusting himself, "We will create a prosperous community and learn from one another. As you might have known, fae have an extremely low conception rate; we view it's best to take opportunities such as these to expand the reach of our people."
"It's fine, it's fine-" Ha-yoon repeats lazily, waving her hand, "You don't need to keep apologizing,"
"Very well, in light of the severe inconvenience you've both suffered," the king announces, standing up from his throne, "I shall endow you both with a gift of our appreciation. Follow me."
With a wave of his hand, the wall far left of the throne contorts into a hidden archway.
"Whoa," Si-woo and Ha-yoon exhale, following the king and queen into the corridor of a grand chamber lathered in glints and gleams of gold and other precious jewels.
"I'll remain here, enjoy yourselfs," Minho says, smiling.
The children wave to Minho as they walk through. Is this...a treasure vault? Si-woo thought, the walls look like pure diamond reflecting the orbital lanterns above,and the smell... Si-woo takes a deep breath, a sweet smell melding together with the history of this place.
A plethora of weapons stand encapsulated along the walls; each wore crests and insignias depicting its historical significance, and their blades and hilts have patterns woven into them, adding edge to the weapon while keeping its beauty.
Ha-yoon skims the array of artifacts. These artifacts...Princess Deane mentioned that Yohen holds old artifacts that can wield serein in complex ways, and different wonders would come from it. Ha-yoon stares at an emerald ring-like device, but some even look...alive.
"Select whatever you're drawn to, " King Morey says, his hand sweeping over the treasures.
"A weapon, an artifact of power or greed. May whatever you choose serve as a symbol of our alliance and your protection, but keep in mind, the heart is deceitful."
Si-woo abruptly pauses, eyes locked onto the artifacts. Mom, she...she would say the same thing.
Si-woo's heart races looking the weapons on display, the relics from across eons of Ondurian history. Slowly walking, a small jolt runs through his veins as he passes a stand.
"What the-"
He slowly retracts his steps to where he felt the ominous feeling. An empty black stand lay before him that seemed to have held a weapon in the past.
"There's nothing here, so why do I feel like there is?"
Feeling the need to, he focuses his eyes atop the stand and notices an irregular, almost invisible object. What is that? An artifact?. Briefly taken aback, he concentrates until the complete object comes into view.
His gaze finally settles on a black, sleek, glimmering kunai. He reaches out to the white stapped pommel tentatively, feeling the palpable energy trickle across his fingertips. A rugged, titanium-white fabric tied onto the loop of the hilt ripples slowly through the air.
As soon as his skin makes contact, the room around him grows hazy, and everything around him is replaced by darkness.
"Uh, hello?" he yells, but the endless void drowns out his voice.
Was I teleported? No, maybe I passed out?
While trying to make out the darkness, light footsteps from behind him interrupt his thoughts.
He quickly turns around to see a familiar figure. The mu.
Si-woo watches, amazed by the brilliant blueish hue of the spirit as it strode towards him.
It's holding something, is that... the kunai?
The mu stops, the slits of its eyes looking up at Si-woo. Si-woo stares back into the endless cosmos of the mu's eyes; it's then that he knows he has to make a choice.
Full of resolve, He reaches out to the white strapped pommel lying on the mus tendrils. Upon touching it, a gust of wind pulses from the mu traveling through Si-woo, transforming the darkness into an infinite multicolored universe of stars and cosmic clouds.
Si-woo stands there, staring at the magnificent array of colors, overwhelmed but at ease at the same time.
"AND SO IT BEGINS ONCE AGAIN"
"WHAT THE-" Si-woos heart jumps through his chest, looking for where the booming voice came from, but when he looked for the mu, it was gone. He steps back in shock, but the stars begin to fall, and the vast space begins to fade.
"Help!" Si-woo screams, his chest heaving, looking for a way out. Space continues to contort and concentrate into a single point until Si-woo is pulled back into the treasure vault.
Before he could grasp the significance of what happened, King Morey strides to his side, his pure royal silk robe billowing behind him, wonder and interest carved into his face as his clear blue eyes stare at the kunai in Si-woo's hand.
"...Interesting," the king spoke, a slight smile forming on his face.
Snapping out of his daze, Si-woo lowered his gaze to the kunai in his right hand—the blade now marked by a white streak branching like a tree, running all the way to the hilt. An undecipherable sensation coursed from the weapon through his palm.
"What is this?" he asks, the air in his voice exaggerated.
King Morey hesitates, not taking his gaze away from the weapon.
"Eternity," King Morey finally says, switching his gaze to the pink bed of Si-woo's hair., "That's Eternity, Breaker of Mercy. A relic known to be lost. Seems like problems will soon resurface."
"Huh?" Si-woo quickly turns his head to meet King Morey's, "Problems?"
"Don't fret, such things you do not have to think about. Eternity is an aged relic; its history is bound to flare controversy between the lands. Since you must be unfamiliar with soul weapons, I will explain.
"A soul weapon essentially develops with its proprietor; its constitution adjusts to benefit its wielder, but Eternity is documented to be a divine gift from God to the mu. Throughout time, as mu came about and past wielders parted, it nevertheless selected its owner among the species. Now, you may see how peculiar it is that it's now in the hands of a foreigner."
His chizzled hand reaches out to the back of Si-woo's, gently raising the kunai to observe it. His eyes look deeply into the kunai, lost in the its creation, "The mu were such prosperous guardians of Ondur, second to none in strength, and for this weapon to have stringent qualifications for the wielder that even among the mu they would go many millennia's without anyone to wield it, to choose you only speaks of unforeseen prophecy. A weapon of this caliber is not for the faint of heart, young one. It chooses its wielder, not the other way around, though I don't reconcile it would be in your hands otherwise."
Si-woo rubs his hand through his hair, absorbing the information. From what I remember, the mu were also eternal creatures. If they were also recognized for their strength, what in the world eliminated all of them?
He squeezes the hilt, a familiar feeling washes over him as if he were joining hands with a friend, "But King Morey, when I touched it-"
Si-woo opened his mouth to ask something else, but Ha-yoon's voice cut through the room.
"Look," she calls, lifting a book. Its dark purple cover is rugged and worn by time. Looks as if it burned for centuries, but was never truly harmed. The surface resembles aged leather, and the pages have discolored with time, their edges glimmer in shifting hues as light dances over them.
"Oh my-" Queen Elara gasps, walking over to Ha-yoon, "My God has beheld this sight to me, the promised child...is here,"
"So it is her, then. King Morey emphasizes, making his way over, Si-woo following close behind.
Ha-yoon observes the book, "Isn't this just a book, though? Can't be that serious," Ha-yoon murmurs, feeling awkward.
"A book? You picked a book?" Si-woo questions, confusion carved into his face.
"It's not normal," Ha-yoon voices defensively, "I think it wanted me to."
The king's expression intensifies as he nears Ha-yoon, every step seeming to emit power.
"Allow me," he utters, carefully grabbing the book, but Ha-yoon doesn't let go. King Morey hesitates, looking surprised.
"May I please observe the book, pretty one?" he says gently.
Is she okay? Si-woo thought, watching Ha-yoon in an almost daze-like state.
Ha-yoon then gives the book to King Morey, her expression indifferent.
"Thank you," King Morey studies the cover, his expression unreadable, until, for the briefest moment, a flicker of unease crosses his face and is gone.
King Morey exhales slowly. "It is as the Queen has said," he whispers, handing the book back to her, his hands quickly retreating behind his back.
"I tried reading the pages," Ha-yoon flips through the pages, "but I think it's in another language."
Si-woo peeks down at the old, tan pages, "You're right, maybe this is a derivative of Hoken."
"Unfortunately, it is not," Queen Elara corrects, her gentle expression looking over the book, "This is the Grimoire of Oblivion, a very ancient relic connected to the previous prophecies we've briefly informed you of prior. Although I've come across very few, archives suggest that all grimoires have one thing in common: unreadable ancient and powerful texts that go beyond sorcery, but the wielders of such grimoires are known to be able to decipher the tongue through time and gain tremendous power."
"A book can do all of that?" Ha-yoon asks rhetorically, "Knowledge really is power, huh?"
"Is her book a soul weapon like mine, then too?" Si-woo asks, meeting King Morey's gaze.
"It is not," Minho answers, " As I've mentioned, a soul weapon like Eternity grows with its owner, while a mythical grade grimoire like Oblivion has its proprietor adapt to it."
"Ooo, you chose a weapon? What does it look like? Did yours talk to you, too? " Ha-yoon pesters.
While the children talked, Queen Elara stood in awe at hearing Si-woo's weapon, "You two are truly blessed!" She says, sauntering to the King's side, "I should say...the history of Oblivion is clouded in mystery; even the previous Queen who came upon it didn't reveal many details of its origin. Sorry to say, if you have any inquiries they they most likely won't be answered."
Ha-yoon holds the book against her chest. The odd cover feels warm on her skin. It's a feeling that soothes her and also sets her on edge.
"Let us return you to your home." Queen Elara's melodic voice plays through the air, "We don't want you wandering around too late at night, now do we?"
King Morey waves his hand, and at the end of the chamber, the hidden archway they had come through reveals itself.
"What can you even do with a kunai? Ha-yoon asks, walking to the archway, "It's super short...are you going to throw it at people?"
Si-woo shoves his thumbs under the straps of his backpack, "Hopefully I won't have to, but I also have a feeling I can do way more than just throw with it."
They re-enter the grand throne room, and their eyes are immediately drawn to the far left, where a figure stands in conversation with Minho.
Contagious giggles reach their ears as they behold Princess Deane, her emerald sapphire eyes glinting in the light. She's dressed in a similar gown to the queen that shimmers like the glades of the trees outside, and her hair drops over her shoulders in spirals of white.
"Ah, you're back," she joyfully voices, her voice soft as chimes of crystal bells.
"Did you two find everything well?"
Before the king spoke, Ha-yoon dashed across the room, her steps quick and light to hug the princess. Ha-yoon held a tight and warm embrace. Deane is startled for a moment, but quickly hugs back, her arms wrap around Ha-yoon's shoulders.
"I missed you so much," Ha-yoon whispers, her voice slightly quivering with emotion. The princess drew back and gave a small smile.
"I missed you, too," she says, her eyes welling up with unshed tears.
Princess Deane caresses Ha-yoon's head, her warm eyes glance from Ha-yoon to Si-woo, then through the room.
"My duties as the princess keep me from teaching you as often as I wanted," her voice tinges with regret, "There are many tasks to be completed throughout the knowledge familia before immigration."
King Morey nods solemnly. "Indeed," he says, walking to the throne. "Has integration been without errors, my Princess?"
Princess Deane's smile seemingly adds light to the room, like a ray of light shooting through the clouds. "Everything is proceeding smoothly," she assures, her eyes momentarily shifting to Si-woo's face. "Our cooperation with the sprits has been without difficulties so far."
"That's good to hear," the king says, sitting down, "This alliance is a necessity for both species; both realms depend on it."
Minho steps forward, taking his eyes away from the princess. "Your Highnesses, it'd be best if I escorted our guests back to their home."
The king waves his hand lazily, "Very well," he says, his gaze lingering on the siblings, "See to it that they arrive home safely, and we'll talk later, my friend."
Minho leads Ha-yoon and Si-woo to the composer's grand chamber doors. Ha-yoon peeks over her shoulder, " Bye, Deane. See you tomorrow," she exclaims joyfully, waving."
"Goodbye, little ones," Princess Deane waves back.
King Morey watches the doors close behind Minho and the kids. "Now let's take a look at the corruption." Queen Elara says.
"Corruption?" Princess Deane says, looking at Queen Elara in confusion. The king sighs, removing his hands from the sleeves of his white garment.
Deane treads closer to the throne as Queen Elara reaches out to his right palm.
They are almost as pale as the marble of the young academy's floors, Princess Deane observes, awestruck. The veins gradually fade from a dark hue to stark blue down his fingertips...but it looks like he's slowly recovering. The sight sends a shiver down her spine.
"Father, what has happened to you?" Deane asks in concern. She keeps her gaze fixed on his, searching for any sign of deceit.
King Morey releases a deep sigh, turning his gaze from his daughter to his right hand resting in his wife's. "The grimoire," he says, his voice low. "The book of prophecy Ha-yoon chose. It seems the past queen knew of its true master and that scarcely anyone could wield or even touch such an artifact. The Grimoire of Oblivion."
Princess Deane's eyes widen with shock, "Then they're certainly the saviors of Ondur," she whispers. "The Grimoire of Oblivion, and there was also a familiar serein pulse from within Si-woo's backpack."
The queen nods solemnly. "Indeed," she says, holding the king's hand, her voice filled with a strange mix of awe and dread. "The boy has obtained Eternity, Breaker of Mercy, and has a similar purity grade of serein as the king; those two will be more significant than we could have ever imagined."
Si-woo has found Eternity? Princess Deane thought in bewilderment.
"Deane, warn Minho to be careful with the grimoire," King Morey says firmly. "Both weapons they've chosen are dangerous, powerful, while just as fatal to the one who wields them."
The air thickens with unspoken warnings, each one orbiting the grimoire's terrible power. Ancient archives tell of its ability to summon monstrous beings from forgotten realms—a relic never meant for hands as pure as Ha-yoon's.
"Yes, Father," Deane replies softly, her thoughts adrift. Unspoken words hang in the air around the grimoire's immense power. Archives state that the book is capable of summoning otherworldly, bloodcurdling behemoths from forgotten realms, that it's a weapon of last resort. It shouldn't be in the hands of someone as innocent as Ha-yoon.
...
"I see you chose a book, Ha-yoon, but what did you choose, Si-woo?" Minho asks hoistering Ha-yoon onto Lemmy.
"A Kunai, it's in my backpack. I thought it would be weird for me to be carrying a weapon around here."
"Ah, the guards wouldn't have been very fond of that. The kunai is a very...unique weapon choice. Have you trained with it in the past?"
"No..." Si-woo murmurs, questioning himself.
"Well then," with a grunt, Minho lifts Si-woo directly behind Ha-yoon, "This should be entertaining for both of us then."
"Minho, I've been thinking about it for a bit," Si-woo starts, "But why did we have to take that passageway if it's so important? Are there people we should be worried about?"
"You're a sharp boy," Minho says, looking up at him. With a brief sigh, he hops on, "Princess Deane warned the first few days of you two coming into Yohen would be the most detrimental, and that we must be as confidential until then."
"Like the sprits?" Ha-yoon says.
"Yes, but Subjugation of the sprits is a relatively manageable task, especially when the higher sprits are cooperating; this has led me to think that there might be unforeseen lingering dangers."
The journey away from Ondur is swift, the wind caresses their faces, soothing their nerves from their previous conversation. They ride on the back of the massive wyvern, every beat of its wings seems to match the rhythm of their hearts as the suns begin to set.
Gliding above in the sunset, Si-woo pins his eyes on Ha-yoon, hugging the odd book to her chest, staring into space. Curiosity and worry tangle inside him.
"How did you get so close to the princess?" he calls. The wind snatches most of the words.
Ha-yoon looks back. A tiny smile lifts the corners of her mouth. "She teaches the beginners now and then," she answers in a shout.
"She turned into a real friend. She showed me how things work here. In beast taming class, she taught me a lot about my bonds."
"Bonds?" Si-woo repeats, "How many do you have?"
"Three!" Ha-yoon shouts back, "I can only control about three at once."
What? Si-woo broods, 'I heard it's rare to have two bonds due to their diverse natures, but to have three of them when not even one has approached me!
Minho chuckles, his eyes twinkling, "Princess Deane has told me she assisted you in acquiring bonds, though she mentioned how she hardly had to interfere as you were a natural."
Ha-yoon smiles, youthful joy reflecting off her face as the orange sunset dances across their bodies.
...
In Seoul, the siblings enter their home, the silence a little less deafening. In the living room, Ha-yoon clutches the grimoire tightly, feeling its strange warmth pulse against her chest, then looks over at Si-woo, who is lost in thought, staring at his soul weapon.
He stores his kunai in his backpack. "Let's get some sleep, Minho said he's going to train us tomorrow after school."
"I know," she says, rolling her eyes, "but let's eat first. I'm starving."
They rummage through the kitchen's cabinets and shelves full of food and Ondurian dishes. The aroma of strange scents, sweet fruit, and bitter leaves drifts to their noses and tugs at their stomachs.
Si-woo makes a plate and heaps it high, as if it were a prize, but Ha-yoon does not move; she keeps the grimoire in both hands whilst staring at the cover.
"I think we should put it somewhere safe," she says, warily.
"It's not like anyone's gonna rob us of a book, Ha-yoon,"
"It's not just a book," Ha-yoon stands up from the kitchen table, raising the grimoire to the sky, "This is the o so great prophetic book destined to be with me till the end of time! You heard the queen..I'm the chosen one,"
"Yeah, okay," Si-woo grabs the grimoire, "Then I choose you to do the dishes tonight," he strides over to the refrigerator. With a gentle hop, he places the book on top of it.
"You didn't need to put it that high," Ha-yoon pouts.
"We'll deal with your fantasies in the morning after we've had some rest."
The siblings fill their plates with the unfamiliar food. As they sit down to eat, Si-woo attempts to disregard the faint stinging sensation in his hands, periodically readjusting his grip on the chopsticks.
...
The next day, dawn seeps through the curtains, stirring the siblings. Ha-yoon opens her eyes to find the grimoire on her bedside table, its cover glinting in the early light.
Huh? Did Si-woo change his mind? She stares at the book, a familiar healing feeling washing over her.
...
Minho drops Si-woo and Ha-yoon off at school.
"I have other work today, so I won't be able to see you two until after," Minho says, sending them off, "Now hurry, before Princess-, I mean, before you're late,"
Ha-yoon giggles, "Okay, see ya,"
"Bye," Si-woo adds, walking towards the academy with Ha-yoon.
The entrance hall of the academy bustles with students, chatter and light laughter echo through the halls.
"Remember, we have training with Minho after school," Si-woo says, watching the fae students rush by.
"Yep!" Ha-yoon says, running to her class, "Love you, bye!"
Si-woo waves, a heartfelt smile forming on his face, "Love you too,"
...
In Yohen History class, Si-woo writes while Mistress Elyria lists the five royal families that rule Ondur.
"Each family," she says as her hazel eyes sweep the room, "plays a critical role under the Noble Family. The Economy Familia, led by Lord Haneul, governs the kingdom's currency and supplies. The funds help local construction, schools, and the citizens' livelihood.. The Military Famila, commanded by General Minho, protects Ondur from foreign dangers. They police the streets and enact justice in the court of law."
Si-woo nods, wondering which family he and Ha-yoon will join in the fifth echelon.
"The Agriculture Family," Elyria continues, "Led by Lady Somin, cultivates our crops and raises livestock. They're the caretakers of both the land and the body, ensuring survival, nutrition, and sustainable growth."
"What about the Market or Sales Family?" A student in the back calls out,
Elyria smiles. "Lady Luna leads that family. They set the prices of goods, run shops, and decide which goods travel where. By choosing what sells, it steers taste, custom, and communication."
A front-row student lifts their hand. "Mistress, I heard one could work for more than one family?"
"Yes, it happens; some have skills that fit multiple branches. For example, Minho leads our army and teaches at the academy owned by the Knowledge Family. He defends Ondur and trains its young people at the same time."
So that's my goal, Si-woo notes down, to find a family to join before I'm part of some prophecy after I graduate. Si-woo sighs, resting his head on his hand.
Mistress Elyria gives a small nod. "Sharp question," she says. "Let's start today's lesson now."
...
Si-woo's stomach growls as he walks through the crowded hallway of the academy holding his lunch tray. Si-woo pauses briefly, looking at the door to the rooftop, cracked open. There's no other place as good as this one...maybe whoever's here will ignore me. When he crosses the threshold, his eyes lock onto Sol and his four schoolmates already occupying the corner.
Sol's head immediately snaps to the rooftop door, a devilish smile forming on his lips.
"Look who arrived," he says, the words slipping from his mouth like the hiss of a snake, "I thought you would stay in the infirmary and ask Mai to treat your bruises."
Si-woo keeps quiet, a shiver runs through his spine, "I only want some fresh air," he answers, his tone flat.
Sol shows no sign of backing down. His teeth shine through his devilish grin, strolling towards Si-woo.
"Has your ego grown because you have a soul weapon now, huh? Or that little talk with the king?" he spits.
"A soul weapon?" a lackey says nervously, combing his fingers through his golden hair.
"He has a soul weapon, Sol?"
"Wait, did he really talk with the king too?" another adds.
"You probably didn't know this otherworlder," Sol etches closer, the wind blows through his curly burgundy hair, his feet dragging along the pavement, "but my father is part of the royal guard, you lowly transvestite."
His dad is part of the royal guard? Si-woo recalls the ten guards in the throne room. That explains how he knows I was there, I wonder...
Amidst thought, Sol's arm snaps out faster than the eye can track against Si-woo's right ear. A loud crack rings out as pain spikes through Si-woo's skull. He stumbles back, dropping his food tray to the ground.
"Don't daze off now, aren't we in a conversation?" Sol says slyly, staring wide-eyed at Si-woo.
His eyes blur with unshed tears as a high-pitched whine floods his ears; he presses both hands to his head, his knees weak. The roof tilts as if it's a seesaw underfoot. For a short stretch, the world dissolves into a whizz of white noise. He attempts to register his surroundings.
Fingers clamp around his pink hair, jerking his head upward, his eyes meeting Sol's looming over him. His face twists into a dubiouse grin, his grip tight. His crew stands behind him, their laughter muffled by the ringing.
"I plan to enjoy myself each day with you, Si-woo," he whispers in a low, cruel tone, "The two of us will become very close."
Focus, breathe, breathe. In an instant, a shape flashes past, a blurr of color besides Sol is no longer above him, while Sol is sent flying across the roof. With a thud, he rolls on the ground, gasping for breath.
"You've got to be kidding me," The yellow-haired lackey says.
Mai now occupies the spot where Sol had stood. Rage burns in her stare; her stance radiates caution. Her fingers curl into fists at her thighs, silver strands of hair lash across her cheeks as she draws in short breaths.
"Sol! Why must you act this way?" she snaps, voice sharp with anger.
Sol's companions shake themselves from shock, "Look, Mai, the academy's 'top fighter,'" one henchman jeers while the group spreads out to trap her. Mai holds her ground, fearless.
"Please bear a while longer," she asks, her left foot preparing to dash forward.
Sol, on his hands and knees, looks at her with disgust, "GET HER!"
With elegance, she moves through the crew, her movements deliberate and exact, exhibiting a speed that borders on the supernatural. Each blow lands in a rapid succession of strikes, her fists moving in a consecutive flow. The boys recoil, their earlier smirks giving way to shock and agony.
Every one of them is helpless against Mai's onslaught; their taunts turn to cries of agony. The sound of grunts, curses, and bodies hitting the ground fills the air. A breeze carries through the rooftop garden, holding with it the scent of leaves and the faint scent of blood.
Mai's flurry of fists moves so fast they seem to vanish; every punch and kick is delivered with an unchanging, indifferent expression. She keeps her eyes locked on Sol's, a clear warning that worse pain awaits if he tries again. She storms across the asphalt like a sudden typhoon.
The whirlwind stops as fast as it began. Sol's friends lie on the ground holding bruised ribs and swollen arms. Sol remains kneeling, staring feebly at Mai like a dog in fear.
"Are you hurt?" she asks, turning toward Si-woo with her hand out. Her silk black uniform flows with her hair as elegantly as dandelions in the breeze.
He stands disregarding the help, shame, and anger contorting his face, "Thanks," he forces out, voice thin, "but do not ever fight in my place."
Mai's eyes narrow, surprised and irritated.
"I fought for myself," she answers, tone cold, "He behaved like a fool and needed correction. It looks like you couldn't handle it either."
Si-woo averts his gaze, his lips part, yet nothing comes out. Since the day I came here, I slip by in the halls, quiet, hoping we don't see each other.
He gives a rigid nod before he walks off, his injury going deeper than the skin. "I had better leave," he murmurs, barely audible.
"Hold on!" Mai shouts after him, but her voice is drowned out by the bell. The crowd swallows him; he fades like mist between the masses. She stares at the door he went through, worry and anger pulling her in opposite directions.
Sol presses his palms flat against the concrete, standing up.
"Looks like the timid rat just mislaid his shield," he lets out, quiet laughter under every syllable.
Mai narrows her eyes, measuring Sol. A sigh leaves her lungs, then she pivots, taking off, intent on catching Si-woo before the day closes.
I know I shouldn't have reacted like that, but...Can I still not do anything for myself? Si-woo dreads over his thoughts, his footsteps striking the floor, each impact feels heavier than the last. The grandeur carved into archways and pillars slips past him while moving toward his classroom.
Up ahead, the nurse's office comes into view, yet his feet stall. "You're weak - you burden everyone," Jung-ho's words repeat in his head.
Si-woo stops at the doorway, his heart beating against his ribs, the urge to escape riding every breath. He edges forward tiptoeing, wishing Nurse Lila wouldn't see him.
"Si-woo!" Nurse Lila's summons slices the corridor in two. He stops dead, his fingers hang a hair's breadth from his classroom door handle. He pivots with caution, bracing himself.
Worry and irritation fuse across her features, "Into my office," she orders, jabbing her thumb at her room, "Right now."
A weight settles on his chest as he trails after her; the murmurs of onlookers fade into a distant hum.
Within her office, the air carries the familiar scent of lavender and other antiseptics.
"What happened?" Nurse Lila asks, staring at Si-woo's swollen right cheek.
Si-woo draws in a breath, steadying himself on an open bed, "It is from martial arts," he says in a low voice, cheeks red.
Nurse Lila's brow can be seen elevated through her round glasses. Exhaling, she motions toward her chair, "Let me check."
The soft contact of her fingers while she studied his ear gave Si-woo a hint of relief. He watched her spread a clear gel on his skin. There's a slight burn, but it dissipates within seconds.
"This will cut the swelling," she told him, "If the lump is still there tomorrow, come back to me."
"I will. Thank you," he said under his breath, not meeting her eyes. He knew she did not accept the lie, yet she chose not to press. She gave him a look that said she understood more than enough.
"You're welcome," she answers in a quiet tone, "Remember, you are free to visit me whenever." Her statement floated between them, a calm reminder that her help was always available.
...
The last bell sounds, ending the school day. The corridors flood with students leaving for their evening events. Si-woo walks through the crowd, quiet remarks about the rooftop event follow him like a shadow.
Ha-yoon stands in the sunlit courtyard beside the fountain, talking with others her age.
She has friends, that's good. I have less to worry about. Si-woo thought as he watched her laugh. It comforted him to see her happy, even in a place so odd and erratic.
"Si-woo! Ha-yoon!"
The siblings turn to Minho's loud voice. His midnight blue eyes sweep the crowd, fixing on the pair. He signals for them with an urgent wave. Other students notice, trading off curious glances.
"Come on, you two!" Minho shouts, arms spread wide, more elated than usual. A contagious smile forms on his face, "Training awaits."
They hurry over to Minho, where Lemmy lay unconcerned behind him. Her dark scales catch the sunlight, glinting like the tips of skyscrapers.
Passing Minho, Ha-yoon pets the animal's warm neck, the wyvern rumbles in quiet contentment.
Minho takes his eyes from Ha-yoon to Si-woo, "Were you involved in an ordeal with someone at the academy again?" Minho asks with both worry and humor, studying Si-woo's face.
"It happened in class again," Si-woo answers, his tone unconvincing. Ha-yoon glances at him, but speaks no word.
Minho studied their faces. He lets out a deep sigh and gives a slow nod.
"All right," he says, his expression settling, "Off to the royal palace grounds then."
The siblings step onto Lemmy's back, the muscles tense as Minho prepares for flight. The other lingering children begin to step back as the wyvern prepares for takeoff.
"Hold on!" he hollers. With a leap and a single powerful wingbeat, the beast surges upward. Their hair and clothes tug in the wind as the academy falls away beneath them. Si-woo's stomach lurches; the thrill pushes away the shame and anger, if only just for a moment.
"I love this sooo much!" Ha-yoon yells, watching the breathtaking view towards the southern edge of the royal palace.
Si-woo smiles in the breeze, absorbing the tranquility from Ondur.
Below, the land spread like a quilt of greens and blues, the paired suns casting their light across the horizon. The siblings raised their hands to block the glare as the twin suns shone high, bathing the kingdom in gold.
Minho waves at the guards crossing the gate of the royal palace. The training grounds stretch behind the palace, vast, unlike anything they had ever seen. Emerald grass rolled for miles, flat stone arenas across it, some even levitating above ground with intricate mechanisms beneath it. Soldiers sparred upon them, blades ringing and the air vibrating with raw energy.
Lemmy descends onto one of the grounded platforms near the wilderness, the stone groaning softly under his weight.
Dropping her bag, Ha-yoon drew a slow breath, eyes wide. "Why does it seem you guys have better technology than us, but at the same time, you don't?" she whispers, the words barely reaching beyond the platform.
Minho laughs, stroking the wyvern's neck. "It's only the beginning, now...hand me the weapons the king gave you yesterday,"
Si-woo reached into his pack, fingers curling around cool metal. He lifted the new kunai, the twin suns glinting along its blade, and passed it to Minho. Ha-yoon followed, offering her book.
Minho carefully accepts the book, his hand covered by a cloth. His eyes traced the worn cover before he drew another soft cloth from his sleeve, wrapping it as one might a fragile relic. Every movement was deliberate.
Ha-yoon watched, curiosity and respect gleaming in her eyes.
"You need to understand," Minho said, his tone suddenly grave, "texts like this are not to be held unless you've at least awakened. I should've taken these from you two this morning, but the lesser sprits were as rampant as ever,"
With care, Minho places Si-woo's kunai and Ha-yoon's grimoire in a satchel strapped to Lemmy's side. The wyvern's scales quiver slightly to the added items.
"Meditation is crucial," Minho begins, securing the satchel. "It's a staple practice among all serein cultivators; it helps boost the body's restorative components, and the purer your serein, the more crucial it is." His gaze searches for understanding in their eyes, "You must have practiced this at the academy already."
Si-woo and Ha-yoon nod, recalling the sessions where they sat in silence, trying to still their racing thoughts.
"It's about the same thing some of us were doing on Earth as a therapy." Si-woo says, "It was difficult at first, but it's become a part of the routine in class."
"It's annoying, and boring," Ha-yoon complains, "How do they expect me to sit for hours on end, REPEATING THE SAME WORDS AGAIN AND AGAIN. 'Breathe in, breathe out.'"
"Ha, it may seem excessively meticulous, but it appears you two are not as skilled in martial arts as many Ondurians your age," Minho observes their frame, his face reflecting both disappointment and resolve.
"I will prepare both your body and mind so that the responsibility of your serein, and the grand weapons you've both chosen will be bearable, as well as complement your lifestyles in ways you've never imagined."
Minho slips a hand into his sleeve and draws out a small handful of durable balls. He throws one into the air, catches it, a faint smile on his lips carries a silent edge.
"We'll begin with this," he says, lobbing the ball to Si-woo. "I'll throw the rest at you from different angles and distances. You must dodge or catch them, but your feet must stay within each pavement square."
Si-woo and Ha-yoon looked down at their feet, noting that each square measured roughly sixty centimeters on each side. This sounds easy enough, Ha-yoon grins, ready to show what she could do.
"We'll manage," she whispered to her brother.
Minho's grin widens. He swings a leg over Lemmy's spine. The creature lifts slightly, ready to move. With a nod to the siblings, Minho draws in a deep breath and spurs the wyvern into a hard gallop.
The first one caught them off guard. Si-woo ducked just in time, the ball sailing past his head. Ha-yoon was a heartbeat late; the ball smacks her shoulder with a sharp pop. She winces and sends Minho a glare. He laughs and threw another at her.
As the speed built, his arm became a blur. Rubber balls shot away at incredible velocity, hissing through the air and ricocheting off the platform's rim before bouncing back in unpredictable lines.
"Move, Ha-yoon!" Si-woo yells, "I'm getting hit with your balls!"
"How is it my fault you aren't moving fast enough?" Ha-yoon snarks, a sinister smile playing on her lips as she stands directly behind Si-woo.
"Pay attention!" he calls over the clamor of the training grounds, "Your mind must stay alert every second!"
The siblings obey. They kept their focus sharp as the hours slipped past. The suns drifted toward the horizon, and long shadows stretched across the emerald turf. The cool air sails across the land, signaling the day's end. Bruises and other wounds mark their appendages.
"Let's end training here for today."
His voice carries across the quiet field. The lax humor he'd shown earlier is gone, replaced by calm, grave satisfaction.
"You both have the potential to become great servicepeople."
Si-woo exhales, his legs trembling from fatigue.
Ha-yoon drew a sharp breath and muttered through clenched teeth, "I can't feel my kneecaps." Her knees buckled slightly.
"My kneecaps!" she shouts.
Minho and Si-woo burst out laughing, the sound echoing across the empty grounds.
"You're doing well," Minho says, eyes glinting.
He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a familiar purple stone. Raising it, he adds, "I'll heal the minor injuries."
He steps toward Ha-yoon, the object begins to glow softly. With a flick of his wrist, a ribbon of cool light flowed into her bruised shoulder. The pain vanished instantly, replaced by a gentle warmth that spread through her body.
"You as well, Si-woo," Minho says, turning to him.
The stone's light wrapped around Si-woo's head. The swelling in his ear faded; the tightness in his muscles eased.
"Have you found out where that thing came from?" Si-woo asks.
"We have a hypothesis, but it's still under development. Though we have placed a name for it, since it looked like it didn't have one before,"
"And?" Ha-yoon drawls,
"We've decided to name it orichalcum; such a material will lead Ondur into a golden age, and from tonight onward," Minho instructs, "sit in meditation before sleep. We'll repeat this training every day after class until your bodies accept the strain. During lessons, address me as Master."
The siblings nod, too tired to argue. They understand that many lessons still lie ahead.
"The proper reply," Minho adds with a smirk, "is Yes, Master."
"Yes, Master," Si-woo says, bowing.
Ha-yoon mimicked him, her eyes alight with excitement and resolve.
Minho nods, satisfied, "I'll take you home."
He turns to Lemmy, who watches steadily. In one fluid motion, Minho vaulted onto the wyvern's back and extended a hand to help Ha-yoon up.
"Here we go," he warns, "Lemmy startles when she's tired."
Si-woo climbs on next, straddling the creature's powerful frame. Despite his exhaustion, a joy rushes through him as he feels the muscles coil beneath them. The siblings cling to the vertebrae as Lemmy launches skyward once more, the wind whipping their faces as they soar over the brilliant expanse of Ondur.
...
Morning light washes the sky in soft pink and gold. Si-woo and Ha-yoon walk toward the academy.
Meditation really did help with my recovery, Si-wooo ponders, rotating his right shoulder. He looks over to Ha-yoon's sluggish posture.
"You shouldn't have gone to sleep right away,"
"I was meditating, just in a different way...more advanced way in my blankets. I'm feeling stronger already," she says, a forced smile playing on her face.
Si-woo pokes her abdomen.
"Eiiii," she squeals, jolting backward.
"Well, you got me fooled," Si-woo says sarcastically.
At the main gate, Ha-yoon tugs on her brother's sleeve.
"Look," she whispered, pointing toward the steps.
A girl with waist-length white hair stood at the top. She stares directly at Si-woo, her gaze sharp enough to sting.
Si-woo follows the line of her eyes. His heart lurches when he recognizes her face.
"Mai," he breathes.
Ha-yoon turns quickly.
"What?"
"Go on inside," Si-woo told her, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"I'll be with you soon."
Ha-yoon hesitates, then nods and starts up the steps.
Once she disappears, Si-woo exhales slowly and closes the distance.
Mai's gaze never wavered. When he stopped one step below her, she spoke.
"You reek of the wild," she said. Her tone carried the same chill that lived in her glacier-blue eyes.
Si-woo blinked, recalling running away from the death balls in the vast fields.
"I…use Irish Spring," he says, feeling a coolness trickle down his spine.
"Irish Spring?" Mai tilts her head, the faintest smirk touching her lips.
"Is that a type of grass?" she asks, a flicker of amusement in her stare.
Color climbs Si-woo's neck. Over Mai's shoulder, he spots Ha-yoon's ridiculous face peeking from the doorway, eyes wide, mouth agape. She's so nosy, he thought, rolling his eyes before turning back to Mai.
"I'm sorry about yesterday," she says suddenly, her voice softening, the edge gone, replaced by something sincere that attempted to tug at Si-woo's heart, "I shouldn't have said those things."
Si-woo studies her eyes, searching for traces of anger.
"It's all right," he mutters, his voice rough with nerves. "Nothing you said was wrong."
"But it was the way I said it, it was too much," Mai's expression slightly eases, her gleaming eyes searching his for acceptance.
"I hope we can remain friends," she says, the words carrying the weight of a promise, "I won't step into your disputes again… unless you ask."
Friends? The thought echoed in Si-woo's head. What does that even mean? Were we ever truly friends?
Before he could untangle it, the school bell rang, sharp and final. And then, before he could react, a soft hand closed around his.
He glanced down. Mai's slim fingers intertwined with his, her gaze fixed forward, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"We'll be late," she says, her voice carrying a trace of excitement. The warmth of her hand matched with the empathetic composure she'd shown moments earlier.
"Hold-" Si-woo begins, thoughts tumbling too fast to voice.
Mai tightens her grip and tugs him toward the doors. He wants to ask a dozen questions, yet none made it past his lips as they moved together through the crowded corridors. Fae students of different tints chat in Hoken, their melodic language echoing off the elaborate walls.
Waving, Ha-yoon cast one last look at Si-woo being dragged off before slipping into her homeroom, her mind already turning to the lessons ahead.
...
Si-woo drew a slow breath, stepping out of his homeroom and into the martial arts hall. What's with her dragging me everywhere? Isn't she a bit too friendly? The air smells of sweat and resolve. On the mats, novices spar, movements sharp and fluid, strength and grace blending in rhythm.
At the far end, Master Choi, A large, burly man with hair as brown as dirt and eyes as rigid as rocks, surveys the room. His voice cut clean through the noise.
"Today, you'll face your first true test."
He motions toward a boy standing alone at the center, muscles coiled beneath his uniform, expression unreadable.
"Sol. Si-woo," he called. "Step forward."