Chapter 3: Birds Without Wings

For a full moon cycle, Eunseom's most exciting activity was looking out the tiny window of his room and watching the birds in the sky. After the doctor had told him how severe some of his injuries were—he might have almost gotten his head split into two pieces and his abdomen torn open—he had to accept that there was nothing he could do but stay put in this room for the time being.

Sometimes, he thought he was still dreaming. This room looked too much like the place of his dreams. No, it was the place of his dreams, the place he had visited so many times while asleep. Now he knew why: all this time, he had seen his brother's life in his dreams.

So, he was stuck inside that dream—his brother's life—now. He was watching the birds outside the window fly high from his bed, hating them for their freedom, and counted how often the sun and moon rose and set.

And because it was impossible to do only that for the entire day without dying of boredom, he learned how to read and write Aniartz letters, so that he could read his brother's scrolls to pass the time. Learning the letters was pretty fun. In the beginning, these strange little pictures didn't make any sense to him, but they all had their own meanings and patterns, and he just needed to copy a character once and wouldn't forget it again.

Still, memorizing the letters wasn't enough to make sense of the scrolls yet, and he couldn't ask the doctor who came to change his bandages nor the servants who brought him food for their help, as they never stayed beyond their duties. It was as if someone had ordered them not to talk with him. Maybe Tagon.

He could now understand how his brother was feeling in his dreams: imprisoned, alone, cast out. At least Eunseom had Tanya to keep him company and teach him about Arthdal and his brother's life.

"This is the Fortress of Fire. It's Saya's home. He's lived here his whole life," she had explained. "I know it's not ideal, but please bear with it for a while."

"Do you live here, too?"

"No, I live in the Great Shrine. But it's not too far from here, so I'll come to visit every day," she had promised him with a sweet smile that had made his heart skip a beat.

The Great Shrine, the place where the greatest priest of Arthdal lived. Or rather, priestess, who was none other than Tanya, his childhood friend. Or should he say Tanya Niruha?

"Is it weird?" she had asked. "You must be thinking I betrayed the Wahans."

"Why would I?" Who was he to say anything? He, too, had become Inaishingi in order to fight Arthdal. Like him, Tanya must have realized that she had to become someone powerful in Arthdal to achieve her goals and protect the Wahans. "It fits you. I always knew you'd become someone great."

He still couldn't forget how Tanya had looked at him after he told her that. Was it relief? Gratitude? But Eunseom thought he understood. Tanya supporting his decisions was the most important thing to him, so perhaps it was the same for her as well. She must have been doubting herself, a feeling he knew all too well since he'd arrived in Arthdal.

Still, what he didn't like about this new Tanya was how little time she had for him. After he was over the worst of his injuries, Tanya quit fussing over him and spending all day at his side. She argued how it would be too suspicious if she and Saya spent too much time together, and that she had a lot of duties to take care of, too. These days, she came over once a day and stayed for about an hour, then left again.

So he bridged the time until Tanya's visits by reading and writing. The scroll he was currently trying to decipher didn't give him an easy time, though. There were some odd characters he couldn't make any sense of. "Looks like a horse tail," he mumbled to himself. "Just like Helper's tail." He had started talking to himself over the past weeks. Maybe he was going crazy.

Just then, someone knocked. A servant came in, setting down his lunch on the table in the center of the room.

"Thanks," said Eunseom from the bed, smiling at the woman. He didn't bother to check what was today's lunch. He knew it was either soup or porridge.

The servant bowed in response but remained quiet.

Eunseom watched her. He wanted to test his luck one more time, hoping he'd get her to speak with him. "Hey," he said, "can't you help me out just once? I can't figure out what this letter means." He showed her the scroll.

As always came the same response. "I apologize, I cannot do that."

"Come on, just this one time, please?" he asked. Why were they all so boring? Couldn't they see that he needed the company to stay sane?

"I'm not allowed to—"

"What's going on?" said a commanding voice. Tanya was standing at the door, staring down the servant as if she had stolen the sacred pouch of the Wahans.

"Niruha!" The servant bowed deeply and raised her hand above her head in greeting. Eunseom had learned that was how people greeted Tanya now. "I—I brought lunch for Lord Saya and was just on my way out, that's all, I promise," said the servant, voice trembling. If Eunseom didn't know any better he'd think the woman was genuinely scared of Tanya.

Tanya glared at her for a moment longer, then said, "Fine. Leave now."

The servant bolted out of the room as if she was afraid Tanya might cast a curse on her. Eunseom watched, stifling his laughter. He knew from experience how scary Tanya could be when she was in her bossy element. And it appeared she had upped the scariness a bit since she had become a Niruha.

The moment the servant was gone, Tanya's expression softened. She walked over to Eunseom's bedside and looked him over. "Are you all right? Did she do something?"

Eunseom couldn't hold back any longer. Tanya going from evil to sweet in mere seconds was too hilarious—and also pretty cute. "No," he said between his laughing fits, earning himself a scowl, "I just asked her if she could help me with my reading." He held up the scroll with the mysterious horse tail character.

He expected Tanya to laugh with him or even go after the servant to apologize for scolding her over nothing. But Tanya didn't laugh. She looked rather upset with him, in a serious way. "Eunseom, I told you not to do unnecessary things around these people. If they find out you're not Saya, what do you think will happen?"

Of course, she would get mad over something like this. Since he'd woken up in this room, Tanya had been nothing but a worrywart. "Oh, come on," he said, still laughing. "A small conversation has never hurt anyone, right?" When her expression didn't change, he added, "Don't you feel bad for me? It's boring enough as it is, staying in this room all day. And the few people who do come in don't even speak to me." He huffed. "I think Tagon ordered them to ignore me or something."

"No, I did," said Tanya matter-of-factly.

Eunseom's head jerked up. What? It was Tanya who ordered them? But why?

Tanya said, "I told you we need to be careful. What part about laying low don't you understand?"

Now Eunseom didn't feel like laughing anymore either. "I promised you I'll be careful. But not speaking to anyone? That's ridiculous!"

"It's too dangerous. If they catch on to anything—"

He interrupted her, "They won't! All I did was ask her about this stupid scroll!"

"You don't know that. You could let something slip unintentionally!"

Was he that unreliable in her eyes? His anger poofed away, and what remained was an ugly, confusing mess of feelings. "So, because you don't trust me to be careful you ordered them to ignore me—behind my back? That's not how we were taught to do things."

Tanya gave him an odd look. "This is not Iark. We're in Arthdal now. Those people won't do things the Wahan way, either."

Eunseom was taken aback by her words. She was right, he knew this all too well, but still… This was not the Tanya he knew.

Tanya continued, "You said you know what place this is, but I'm not sure you do. You can't trust anyone here."

Eunseom snorted. "Does that include you, too?"

He regretted the words the moment he said them, and even more when he saw Tanya's expression upon hearing them. She didn't say anything in response, she just looked at him as if he'd punched her in the face. Feeling guilty and ashamed, he couldn't look her in the eyes any longer, so he lowered his gaze. He saw his necklace around her neck, and the guilt intensified.

"Eunseom…" Tanya said after a while. Her voice sounded strange, but at least she wasn't shouting at him anymore. "Of course, you can trust me." When he looked back up at her he could see that she was holding back tears and felt like even more of a jerk. "Please trust me with this. I just…don't want to lose you again," she added.

What kind of mess was this? They had reunited, and it should be something to be happy about, but he'd gone and made Tanya sad. Still, he didn't like what she was asking of him, that she just went and decided things behind his back. Didn't that mean that she wasn't trusting him? Once they reunited, they would take down Arthdal as a team, or so he had thought, but they weren't doing that. Tanya didn't want to work with him. Instead, it felt as if she was working on her own and expected him to watch and do nothing.

Tanya slumped down on the chair beside his bed and sighed. She looked more exhausted than angry or sad now. After a while of silence, she took the scroll—he glared at the despicable piece of wood, knowing it was the reason for their fight—in her hands, looking at the writing. "Besides," she said, tracing the letters with her fingers, "most servants here don't know how to read."

"Oh," said Eunseom. Grabbing the opportunity to change the subject, he asked, "Can you read them?" Maybe she knew what the horse tail character meant. Not that he cared about it any longer.

Tanya, too, looked content about the change of subject. "I know about fifty characters. I'm still studying. I know how to read and write 'star,' and 'tree,' and 'bird', and some others," she said. "Saya wanted to teach—" she began but stopped mid-sentence. It was always like this when she started talking about Saya. Eunseom wondered why. He'd like to hear more stories about his brother.

"My brother taught you all that?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, looking sad again. Tanya returned the scroll to him and stood as if she was suddenly in a hurry. "Eat up. I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

Even with her visits getting shorter, Tanya had never left this soon before. Eunseom lowered his eyes to the scroll in his hands, feeling a weird tightness in his throat at the realization that she didn't want to spend time with him. Was she still mad with him? Tanya's visit had been the only thing he had looked forward to all day.

As she walked towards the door, Eunseom sighed and put Saya's scroll aside, giving up on figuring out the horse tail character. His attention returned to the only other interesting object in the room, the window. He caught a bird flying by. It looked as if it enjoyed its freedom.

Seeing the bird, a feeling of misery overcame him. I hate this place. I want to get out of here, he thought.

At the door, he heard Tanya gasp. She stood there, looking at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

Tanya continued staring at him. Her eyes were intense, as if she was trying to decipher his thoughts. "Never mind," she said a moment later, "I thought I heard something."

She didn't give him any time to respond. The door fell shut with a decisive thud.

Eunseom let himself fall back against his pillow. He hated everything about this situation. He hated that his injuries recovered so slowly. There was a war going on, and he'd somehow ended up back in Arthdal, far away from his brothers and sisters. He hated being locked up here, unable to do anything, feeling like he was running away from his responsibility.

At least when Tanya was with him, he could pretend things were fine, that he hadn't led thirty thousand people to their doom. But now Tanya was mad with him.

Wasn't he just hiding away in this tower, living his brother's life to run away from his own?

The smell of earth was strong. He was lying on the ground, dirt and blood sticking to his skin. He knew a blade was piercing his abdomen. He'd be checking how bad the wound was, but the pain didn't register yet, and even if he wanted to, he couldn't. His whole being was focused on the man standing above him. The man who had stabbed him, the man who wore his face. The man's face was ashen, but he was laughing, his eyes wide and mad.

Eunseom woke, drenched in sweat. His stomach injury burned. He sat up in bed and tried to calm his heartbeat, breathing in and out through his nose. The pain lessened after some time.

A dream of his brother, again. Now that he had heard the full story from Tanya, he was certain that the man he'd met on the battlefield was his brother. He really had a brother. He had a family.

Does he hate me? Does he know about me? Is that why he tried to kill me?

He didn't know why this thought disturbed him so much. They didn't know each other, they had no actual relation, so he shouldn't care. But it hurt thinking his only living family resented him just like his mother had at the end. If his entire family ended up hating him, perhaps it proved something really was wrong with him.

He wanted to go back to sleep but he didn't want to dream again. Usually, when he slept these days, he either dreamed of war or he would dream of freedom. Of wide, open fields and lush woods, the sky above him and the earth beneath him. No stone walls, nothing to confine him. Just him and freedom. Those dreams were almost as bad as the dreams of his brother stabbing him because freedom seemed just so far away.

Was he seeing his own memories of Iark or was he seeing his brother's current life? Was his brother, who had been locked up for his whole life in this room, now finally free somewhere?

Eunseom heaved himself up from the bed, hobbling towards the window. He wasn't going to go back to sleep again. He was too restless. It wasn't only the dreams, he was growing more and more uneasy thinking about the war. He'd been gone for far too long and he had no clue whatsoever how the Ago Tribe was faring.

If he made them wait for him any longer… Eunseom shuddered at the unwanted images infiltrating his mind. Guilt twisted his gut. If they died, then it was all his doing. Going to war against Arthdal? Eunseom scoffed at himself. What had he been thinking?

He looked out the window, seeing a cloudy night sky. He had watched the moon rise and fall from his little window thirty-two times already and he didn't know if he could endure a thirty-third time.

He made up his mind. Enough was enough. His people were relying on him to come back. And now that he had started the war, he needed to see it through to the end.

He took a deep breath, making a decision.

It was weird how his priorities had changed. Once, all he'd wanted was to save Tanya and the Wahans. But now that he was at Tanya's side, he could see that she had not only found a way to protect the Wahans, but that she had carved a place for herself in this hellhole. He didn't want to leave her. He wanted to stay here with her, spend all his time with her, and when the time was right come up with a plan to leave this place with the remaining Wahans. But people changed in Arthdal. No one wanted to leave with him anymore. Tanya had told him that all Wahans except Doti liked being in Arthdal now, having more or less moved on from the death of their brothers and sisters. He didn't dare ask Tanya, but he feared that she didn't want to leave either.

And if he were honest, he couldn't leave yet anyway. He couldn't abandon the Ago Tribe. So, he had to end the war first, and then ask Tanya and Doti to leave with him. He also needed to find Dalsae. Dalsae wouldn't want to be left behind, Eunseom knew as much.

He felt cruel even as he made his decision: Tanya would be fine by herself for a little longer, but the Ago Tribe wouldn't.

Sitting down on the nearby chair, Eunseom reached for the splint secured around his leg and slowly pulled it off. He stood again, testing his leg.

"Ouch."

Tanya was going to kill him.

After he got himself dressed and his lips covered, he limbed towards the door, opened it, and peeked outside. As expected, no one was here. He didn't have many visitors anyway, but no one ever came at this hour, not even Tanya.

He looked down the staircase he had climbed many times in his dreams. He also remembered an underground passageway from his dreams, one that would lead him outside the fortress. Even his brother must have gotten restless after spending all his life in this place.

The passageway was his objective. He made his way down the staircase, being as quiet as possible. If he was going against Tanya's wishes, at least he shouldn't get caught.

Sorry, Tanya.

He had expected more guards to be posted around the fortress once he reached the bottom of the tower, but the corridors were deserted except for two guards walking back and forth around the ground floor. The path to the basement was clear. The greatest obstacle was the darkness, though. Windows were spare, and thus, almost no moonlight came in. At first, Eunseom had to keep his hands on the stone walls to keep himself oriented. After a while, his eyes adjusted, though, and apprehension was exchanged by fascination. So, these were the corridors Chaeeun had once told him about. Just as she had said, he couldn't see the moon and stars nor feel the wind, and everything was intertwined like a big spider web. If it wasn't for his dreams directing him the way, he'd get lost for sure. He couldn't believe the people of Arthdal had managed to build something like this.

Once he reached the basement, he looked for the room with rows and rows of shelves filled with scrolls he remembered from his dream. It was almost too easy. In his dreams he—no, Saya—had always pushed a hidden lever at the side of the second left shelf in the room. As Eunseom pushed it, it opened with a groan, and a damp, old stench hit his nose, revealing the hidden passage. Eunseom grinned in triumph. He made it. He'd never return to that tower ever again.

Taking one of the torches attached to the wall, he made his way inside the pitch-black passageway, his footsteps echoing off the walls. Different from the fortress, this place resembled a cave, the ground was rocky and uneven, covered in puddles and dirt. It was even darker than inside the fortress here—so dark that it prevented him from seeing anything outside the range of the torch. And it was freaking cold. When had it become winter? Eunseom already regretted not taking warmer clothes with him. Saya definitely had plenty enough clothes to spare, but he wasn't going to backtrack now.

As he walked through the tunnel, he started wondering what he'd do once he was outside. Was he going to see Tanya to say goodbye, then leave for the Ago Tribe? How was he going to get there, though? He'd decide once he was outside. His gut feeling would tell him what to do, like always.

A little voice in the back of his mind told him that Tanya was right, that he should lay low until he was fully recovered. But he'd never really listened to that voice before.

The progress was slow, as his leg was starting to throb in pain. Deciding it was time for a short break, he plumped down on the first dry spot he came upon and leaned the torch against the wall. Lost in thought, he drew random stuff on the damp ground, amongst it the horse tail character, still wondering about what it could mean.

His thoughts returned to Tanya. He remembered how she'd kept him company since he'd woken up in his brother's room, taking care of him and fretting over him as he recovered. Just remembering this sweet and tender Tanya made him feel warm all over. Then he remembered their fight and the guilt returned.

He didn't want to leave her, he really didn't want to. Was she going to be mad with him when she found out? Was she going to resent him?

"And who do we have here?" rang out a female voice from behind him, yanking Eunseom from his thoughts. The voice echoed through the passageway, making his skin crawl. Heart in throat, he jerked his head around, looking into a vaguely familiar face, although obscured by the darkness. How did he not hear anyone approaching?

He tried to search his memory. Did he know that woman? Maybe from his dreams?

"Well, if it isn't Saya," said the woman, as she came walking over. "I heard you're still recovering from your injuries. Does Tanya know you're sneaking out in the middle of the night?"

So, Saya did know that woman. Eunseom decided to stay cautious for now, as he didn't know enough about Saya's and this woman's relationship. "Uh… well," he said, standing to meet her eyes. "I just need some fresh air. Please don't tell her."

The woman laughed. "Don't you worry. It's not the first time I caught you sneaking off anyway."

Eunseom smiled back at her, hoping this would be the end of their conversation.

She gave him an odd look. "What's with that smile? You're acting strange." Then, her eyes widened in understanding. "Impossible. Is it actually true? Do you really not remember anything?"

Eunseom nodded. Was it this obvious he wasn't Saya, just from his smile?

The woman walked towards him, looking him up and down. She radiated an aura of authority and dignity. "Even your posture is different. And what happened to your hair?" Her mouth turned down in disgust.

What was wrong with his hair? Eunseom reached for it, feeling self-conscious.

The woman said, "I thought Tanya lied, but it seems to be true." She hummed. "It's too bad. Everything I taught you must be gone."

That piqued his curiosity. "Was it you who taught me how to read and write?"

The woman laughed. "Well, yes. But I taught you much more significant lessons than just reading and writing. It's too bad you don't remember."

"What kind of things?"

"Lessons a mother teaches her children: rules, manners, values."

Mother?

"What's with that look?" asked the woman. "I raised you, so I'm your mother."

She, Saya's mother? Eunseom couldn't help the laugh escaping his mouth. She looked barely old enough to be his big sister.

The woman didn't laugh. She fixed him with a stare. "I don't like your attitude," she said.

"Wait, that wasn't a joke?" he said. He really couldn't tell with the people of Arthdal.

The woman scowled at him. Eunseom didn't like her attitude much, either. But she was probably right about having raised Saya. As far as he could recall from his hazy dreams, this woman had always been there as Saya grew up.

"I believe I'm going to have to teach you some manners again," said the woman. "Come here." She gestured to him with her hand.

Eunseom didn't move an inch. "I don't think that's necessary," he retorted. Whatever she was planning, he didn't want to participate.

"I see you want to make this difficult. Fine by me." The woman strode towards him, circling him until he felt her hand caressing his shoulder. She was starting to give him the creeps.

What should he do now? It was bad enough he got discovered, but he knew he needed to tread carefully, or he and Tanya would get into trouble.

"You don't remember anything," said the woman from behind him. "You don't know anything about Arthdal. You probably don't care about anyone here. But Tanya… You know her, don't you?"

Eunseom stiffened. What was she planning by getting Tanya involved?

"I wouldn't be surprised if she's the only person visiting you in the tower. The only one in Arthdal who bothers." Her grip on his shoulder tightened. "I wonder what you'd think if anything happened to her?"

She was threatening him.

At last, Eunseom remembered. He remembered talking to that woman in a similar fashion before, though their positions had been reversed. He had made her deliver the cloth covered in Tagon's purple blood to Tagon, holding a knife to her throat.

The woman wasn't threatening him with a knife, but a threat to Tanya's life had very much the same effect.

Taealha, the daughter of Mihol of the Hae Tribe. How could he have forgotten about her? After all, he knew the Fortress of Fire was her house, and he had been living there for the past month. Tanya had even told him that Taealha had raised Saya together with Tagon.

"So? Don't you have anything to say?" asked Taealha.

Eunseom tried not to catch on to the bait. He said, "Tanya is the High Priestess and beloved by the people. You wouldn't dare hurt her."

Taealha chuckled. "So, you know that much. Yes, I wouldn't, or at least not in the way you think, but…" said Taealha, "you don't seem to know about how she became everyone's beloved Tanya Niruha. Do you think she achieved that all by herself? No, we—Tagon and I—made her the High Priestess. It was easy, really. And, you see, it's just as easy to take all of that away."

Eunseom didn't know if her words were true, but he knew enough about Mihol and Taealha of the Hae Tribe to say that they were dangerous.

"So, will you be good and do as I say now?" came Taealha's question. She was still holding his shoulder in a tight grip.

Why was she doing this? Was she threatening him with Tanya's position only to order him around for a bit? She must be hating him—no, Saya—to go to such lengths. Eunseom just wanted to leave, but he couldn't risk it. He nodded to her, signaling her he'd do as she said. And then he'd get out of here.

"Good," she said, finally releasing him. She walked to where his torch was leaning against the wall. The smile on her face looked wicked now—definitely not like the smile of a mother. She stretched out her hand again. "Now, come here."

Seeing no way out of this, he stepped forward.

"No, not like that," Taealha rebuked. "On your feet. Crawl."

Eunseom frowned. "Why?"

"Why?" she mimicked him. "To teach you manners as you've obviously lost them together with your memory."

Eunseom was starting to feel irritated. What was it with these people? He swallowed and knelt on the ground. His healing leg protested, but it was bearable. More than the pain, he hated not knowing what that woman was up to.

"Good. Come here," the woman ordered.

Eunseom crawled forward, the rocky ground jabbing into the heel of his hands. Taealha's outstretched hand came closer and closer. Pride, what was that anyway? He'd lost it somewhere between Arthdal and Doldambul.

Once he reached her, he asked, "What now?"

"Don't be such a brat." She tsked. "Your head in my hand."

Eunseom had never heard of such a practice. Was this how parents disciplined their children in Arthdal?

"I said: your head in my hand."

He did as she ordered.

The moment his face came into contact with her hand, she grabbed it, her fingers squeezing his cheeks and mouth in a tight grip. He could hardly breathe this way.

The woman smiled down at him. "Good. I'm sure you'll learn quickly again."

Eunseom just tried to focus on breathing.

With her free hand, she started caressing his hair. "Your mother's name," she said, "don't forget it again: Taealha, the Queen of Arthdal."

No, thought Eunseom. His mother's name was Asa Hon. And if Saya was his brother, that meant Asa Hon was his mother, as well.

As she petted his hair, Taealha continued talking. "I pity you," she said. "You're useless. Tagon doesn't have any need for you anymore. You may be his son, but now that he has a real heir—my baby and someone who shares his blood—do you think he still has any use of you?"

It wasn't as if Eunseom cared. And he wondered why she thought he did, because why would someone without memories care about these things?

Taealha appeared too immersed in her speech to notice her flawed logic. "What good are you now? You should try to remember quickly or you're going to be thrown away. Why would an Igutu be kept around otherwise? Even you, with that now empty brain of yours…" she said, and as if to press her point, she grabbed him by his hair and tapped her knuckles against his head. "Even with that empty brain, you should understand the situation you're in now."

She might have a point. Even though this place was no more than a prison, Saya had been kept safe here. Eunseom knew by now how Igutus were treated in Arthdal. An Igutu child would never have survived on its own. Whatever the reason was why Tagon had taken Saya in, without any memories he was as good as useless in the eyes of these people, and they could throw him out on the streets anytime soon. But then again, so what? He was about to leave anyway. Good riddance.

As if reading his thoughts, Taealha strengthened her grip. "Don't you worry. If you still don't get it, I'll make you understand."

Eunseom felt sick. Was this his brother's life? It was no surprise he became the man Eunseom had encountered on the battlefield with a woman like that having taught him the ways of their people.

Breathing became harder. Eunseom closed his eyes, waiting for her to be done with him soon. He'd been through worse. In and out, breath in and out, he repeated in his mind to distract himself.

Brother, you should have escaped from this place much sooner.