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The last time Choi Young felt like this was when he woke up in Eun Soo's hospital after the surgery: weak, helpless and at the mercy of those around him. In fact, he probably felt worse today. His body felt as if it was cut up into pieces and then thrown back to only be bided and held together by throbbing and mind numbing pain. Pain was the only sensation rubbing at his nerves, and even his mind was blinded by the strength of pain completely overtaking him.
Memories were hazed by pain as if a thick cloth was placed over his mind's eye. The only saving grace was the voice that was coming from outside of his battered body. It was a low voice of comfort and familiarity that somehow broke through the dense barrier of pain and penetrated inside his mind to momentary flash out some clarity.
"I thought you would never wake up." A soft chuckle of concern.
"Mas..." Choi Young's voice was buried deep inside his chest and he tried to control it, but it stuck to the back of his throat inside his taut with pain vocal cords and came out as a hitched grumble. He tried to discover the word and place it carefully on the tip of his tongue, which was painful to move as well. "M.a..s...te..r."
"I don't think speaking is something you should be doing. What the hell did you do to have yourself collapse like that?" The man scolded him lovingly, as if he was indeed his master and Choi Young was still his young apprentice. "I sent somebody to fetch your wife, but the house seemed abandoned, like it was left in a hurry. I could not find her traces anywhere. I assumed you already had escorted her to safety?"
"Yeh." He cleared his throat, making some sound to confirm.
"That's what I thought. They have given you some remedies for strength. If I did not know any better..." His voice trailed. "There are no wounds or signs of assault, yet, your life force is drained to a point of depletion. You do know what a life force is?"
If his eyes did not feel like they were dangerously pressed upon by heavy and sharp stones, Choi Young would have had them open in surprise. Is his identity exposed? Or is it a tactic to fetch more information? Yet, the way his master phrased the sentences, was more like a teacher asking a student.
Lying in bed, he was in no condition to think hard, because thinking was laced with pain like every other vital function of his body – breathing, heart beating, swallowing saliva, even moving a toe or a finger. He had no idea how damaging this whole time travel endeavor would prove to be. He was fine last time. But then, Eun Soo was with him; maybe, the stabilizing presence of her KI had something to do with it. Again – every thought came with another sharp stab of the pain deep into the brain.
A groan clawed its way out of his mouth. Then his mind darkened and went blank.
. . .
A staccato of rain dribbling woke him up. The humidity in the air chilled his skin and he shivered uncontrollably, despite being under the covers. Cold was from within, inside his soul, icily prickling his mind. He felt hollow to the bones, empty in the most profound way.
He did not know that memories could leave an echo, like a scream that hangs between the sliding cliffs of the deep canyon, flying back and forth, taunting with larger than life sound, which takes away the meaning of the words that were thrown in the wind. Echo of memories bouncing in his head, exploding in silent bursts and then reverberating on and on... He screamed. The howling scream was torn, just something that needed to be let out on the surface. The scream stopped the constant memory echoes, calmed his mind. Memories of the things that were, of the things that should have been, or would have been. How can one have memories of something that had not happened? Jae Su, Mae Hee, bright lights of Seoul, Hee Jun, Lee Min Ho, metal rivers of fast cars, shiny birds in the sky called airplanes, swords clashing, the sound of metal clanging ominously, and... smiles, warmth, peace... love.
Memories of him and Eun Soo and their child. Taking a picture and then... He knew they were not fantasies.
Darkness was soothing, light was disturbing.
Mr. Kim! That was not a fantasy. He came and then everything was too quick, too hasty to even understand and feel the grief to the full extent of it.
Eun Soo was dressed in a pretty blush caftan, the nicest thing she owned, because Choi Young insisted she did not buy any colorful dresses, since she was too beautiful as it is and would attract even more attention. Now he regretted it. He should have gotten her the most expensive silk robes and pampered her, instead of making her hide as if she was something to be ashamed about.
The baby had a green tufted blanket wrapped around him snuggly, but he kept trying to get out, so they let him, and he sat proudly in his snowy white baby suit and red booties, he loved so much to take off and play with.
Choi Young remembered running his palms pressed against the fabric of his robe, ironing out the wrinkles. The deep blue was his color, as Eun Soo said, and he was glad that his appearance pleased her.
He remembered noticing the setting sun, skating across the sky and diving behind the mountain, its golden glitter of the last rays caught to sparkle with their dying fire in Soo's red hair.
He remembered the feeling of her shoulder bone, so fragile and sharp under his fingers, her frame narrow and small against his, and worrying with guilt that she was not eating as much as before.
And he also remembered bitter sweet babbling of his son, who had no idea his father was about to abandon him. The trusting baby's eyes looking up, clear and bright, the clean and sweet milk and honey fragrance of his skin, and his tiny soft fingers grabbing his rough palms.
Choi Young's eyes searched the room and then fell on the wall beside him. Thick wooden logs smelled of forest, pines and wild grasses, and he wanted to touch the surface just to make sure this was not one very long and very tiring nightmare. To his surprise, soon he was brushing the uneven kinks and irregular bumps of the wood, able to move, able to feel, able-bodied. This is not a dream he thought in gloomy introspection.
He lifted up from his bed, the simple act making him weary and with a groan returned his head on the pillow. What did I do?!
His quick reflexes, lighting like moves, his decisions precise and controlled, his focus on the end-goal - He was always like that. He had to be. He could not doubt much or people would get lost, injured or die. He learned to measure his choices against life and death, the circumstances differed, but the ultimate outcome was nevertheless as simple as a wisp of breath – life and death.
What did I do?!
He sent them into the future, into the world where people did not carry weapons around, where even police used thick sticks instead of sharp blades and where a woman and a child would not be harmed easily. That was a certainty.
Next to them, he became a liability. The assassin was just the first of many. The first of many to get to Choi Young, whether young or old, the boy or the man; and if the boy was harmed, Choi Young feared in no small terms that he might seize to exist altogether. And if he were to disappear, then will his child ever be born?
He was a prize sought by many, is not it what the assassin said before falling to his death? His family could hide in the future, that's where they belonged from the start.
All the obstacles he overcame, all the roads he traversed unknowingly searching for something to feel a dark void, all of the things he had done brought him to the world of the future. Thousands of miles, billions of steps all amounting to one achievement - to find Eun Soo. And now he was stuck in the past; fate was clearly having a laugh at his expense, having brought him back to where he started, back to where he was born, grew up and lived, back to Goryeo.
He finally understood where his place was. It was no chance as Choi Young learned by now that nothing was a coincidence. A grand design, an intelligent design, a map laid out among the stars, with the Hwata's gate a beacon – he was where he was supposed to be at the very moment he was. What was the purpose then?