"Know that the darkest night is often the bridge to the brightest tomorrow." - Jonathan Lockwood Huie
Yeo Un
Where am I?
I try to move but ropes restrain my body. Fear rushes through my blood and I struggle. Every muscle in me protests. I thrash against my bindings. Every move, every breath, sends a jolt of pain through my spine.
Dimly, I remember my last moments. I… I had impaled myself violently against my best friend – Dong Soo's – sword. Sword opens flesh… my body feels like its split in two…The raw metallic taste of blood in my mouth… his desperate cries and pleas against my ears… sobbing as the sword penetrates deeper into my heart…
Someone yells. "Quickly!"
The desperation in the voice scares me. I writhe against the ropes but it is useless. Many pairs of hands hold me down. I hear fearful voices and see dim shapes. White-hot pain laces through my side and then all I see is red. Red. Excuciating pain rips through me. My body jerks involuntarily. My back arches and the ropes are pulled taut. The stink of charred flesh fills my nose. A disembodied scream escapes my mouth like a tortured animal.
Darkness from the corner of my consciousness beckons and gladly, I plunge into it.
My eyes snap open.
A dull pain throbs violently on my left side. I am still tied. I test the ropes and they are secure. I study my surroundings. My hands and feet are tied on a bed. A wide white bandage covers my wound. The scent of medicinal herbs fills the air.
I sigh. My muscles scream again. I am not dead.
I realize the last task I had given myself – to die – which should be easy enough to do, I could not accomplish...
I had come so close. Dying was to be my last gift, my last sacrifice in my twisted, fucked up life. My way to remove my unneeded existence from the world. To purge the nation of an organization of cold-blooded killers shrouded in secrecy…
So what am I still doing here? Have they decided to save me, to torture me, or publicly execute me later? I could not stand this humiliation. But why wouldn't the King want that? I – the Sky Lord – was a cause in his father's death. No matter how much I try, how many more lives I save, I can never bring him back. It is a black mark on my life I can never erase.
And because I am the now the leader and the face of Heuksa Chorong, the burden and sins of generations now rest on me. So now, I must pay. Made an example of. My body - my pain - surely will a prize for the King.
I groan. I am shaking. An unbeckoned tear slides down my cheek. My face is wet. With my hands bound, I could not even wipe my face or hide my shameful tears. Why am I crying? Am I not an enemy, a traitor? A worthless criminal to this nation? I should be happy. A good citizen would be happy at my death.
With every new ragged breath I take, I wish for death.
"Un-ah? You're awake?"
I wince like I've been slapped in the face. What is going on? All I could do is stare at him in shock. Over the other side of the room, my best friend, his eyes are full of concern and alarm. My heart sinks.
I look away. I don't want him to see my face. I blink quickly.
Footsteps. I feel his presence besides me. There is a heavy silence.
"What do you want, Dong Soo?" my voice is cool and detached. Practiced over years of experience.
The bed dips and Dong Soo's, firm but gentle, turns my face to look at his. I keep my face still, a mask of no emotion. For once, he is quiet. His warm brown eyes gaze intensely at me. Warmth and kindness was emanating from his whole being. As the seconds past, I feel my cold fascade begin to crack and worse, I am helpless to stop it. As an assassin, I could fight and kill. Except this.
I jerk my face away.
"Get out," I hiss. My voice is wavering. But the harshness of my words hurts him. I know they do. But I am angry, angry at him for saving me, angry at the world for tempting me with 'fate', angry at myself for believing the lie. So I don't care – I don't care – that he looks at me like I've hit him.
I see the flash of anger across his eyes. I hear the scrape of metal and he is holding a knife. He plunges it at my wrist, cutting the ropes and freeing my hands. In a flash, I wrestle the knife from him and press it against his throat, drawing blood. But he is just as fast, in a blur, he holds the knife once again.
The metal glistens. For a split second, I thought he would plunge it into my heart. Instead, the knife flies across the room, hitting a wooden pole.
I gasp as I feel his warm arms surround me in a strong embrace.
"Stop - No!" I cry. "Stop!"
I struggle wildly and twist in his grasp. But he is stronger.
"Yeo Un... stay still, you are going to hurt yourself," he says calmly. His voice was soft next to my ear.
"Dong Soo – " I start.
"Let me…" he whispers. "Let yourself…"
Then he buries his head on my shoulder and despite myself, warmth and heat begins to spread across my body. I twist wildly in his arms… I don't want… but my mind is reeling. I hear his broken voice inside my own head.
"Un! Don't die, Un. Un. don't die... Yeo Un! Yeo Un!"
Why did he beg for me to live? Did I mean that much...?
"But aren't you Un? Aren't you my friend Un? I do not know what your destiny is. If you cannot resist, I will help you withstand it.
"I can never give up on you. Will never give up... So Un, please do not give up."
Is he is giving me a second chance... even when I don't dare to give it to myself...? But how? And yet, the brush of his lips and nuzzle of his nose at my neck… as though he cared…
The realisation shocks me and something inside me snaps. In the throes of my struggles, my mask shatters. The tears begin to flow uncontrollably from my face.
"Why?" I scream out the agony in my heart as I feel myself finally surrender in his arms, sobbing as my tears wet his robe. I bury my face in his neck as he gently comforts me, stroking my back like he would a distraught child.
"I promised…" I hear him whisper and his voice trails off. I will never give up on you. The kindness in his voice breaks me anew and I sob harder. He holds me and waits until my cries soften and I am quiet and docile in his arms.
Sometime later, I let him dry my tears with his thumb. He explains to me that Cho Rip has confessed to everything, that I have not harmed him - that I am not a prisoner and the ropes were for my protection, so I will not just kill myself again when I wake up… a sense of relief washes over me. When I let him undress me to change the bandages to my wound, there is a sense of calmness. I do not mind being exposed to you - I realize with a small smile.
Then he smiles broadly back. And it feels like home. Where I'm meant to be.
I'm back where it all ended. The clumps of long light brown grass stretch across the plain and into the horizon. I'm still wearing black – as always – my favourite colour. That never changed.
I'm riding out on my faithful horse, which has carried me to long journeys. He's white. I smile wryly when I make out a familiar shape a riding on a black horse. Unmistakable in his blue and black robe. The colours blue and black blur across the plain.
My horse gives a snort when I urge him into a gallop. Trail of dust and dirt flies as he strides. The world and the grass seem to hold their breath as they wait for our inevitable collision.
I see a flash of silver and I dodge his blade as it whizzes past. I parry but he evades my moves. I am amused when I see the determination, excitement and concentration all etched over his face. I wonder if this is how Gwang Taek and Cheon felt when they fought.
When I leap off my horse he is already there, and we briefly wrestle before I am pinned underneath on the grass, with his body pressing again mine. All hard and all muscle. Still toned like the day I left. Just more stubble on the face. There are more wrinkles around the corner of his eyes but it doesn't stop the mirth emanating from them. A smirk on his lips and a mischievous gleam flashes in his eyes.
And then he shifts above me and to my horror, a moan of pleasure escapes my mouth before I could stifle it.
"And this is just the beginning," he says with a playful grin.
"So this is your idea of being Joseon's best swordsman?" I say in disbelief.
He looks hurt like I stole his line. But recovers easily like always.
"Just wait Yeo Un," he declares in a loud voice. "After one-thousand-one-hundred and ninety nine duels, this is one that I will win. And you're going to beg me for mercy… "
I roll my eyes.
Then he removes his body from mine and I glare after him when he leaps onto his horse. "Where are you going?" I yell.
"Who says I need to win right now?" he says casually. But there is a total sense of seriousness in his voice. "Now you're back, I have an opportunity every single night for the rest of our lives. Every. Single. Night."
And then he adds, "And it's going to be hot, rough and steamy..."
My mouth twitches as I try to suppress my laugh. I shake my head but I can't hide the amusement in my voice. "You're awful Dong Soo."
"Aw-ful?" he says, "Nah! I'm awe-some!" He shouts. "Gah come on! Race you home!"
Frustrated, but determined to win, I mount my horse as he begins to urge his horse forward. I stare out into the distance. It is a beautiful evening as dusk begins in the meadow. There's only him and me.
Two horses. Two warriors. One heart.
I follow him as we gallop together towards the sliver of golden light into the distance.
Author's note: Inspired by the many discussions online about Yeo Un's death, including this post by anicabyss.
