The world was ending.
Arrows whizzing through the air at breakneck speed, horses half-trampled, left to die on broken legs, heads severed from bodies, with unblinking eyes, expressions frozen forever in states of terror, mania, rage. Screams- the sounds of the universe being ripped apart at the seams. And blood everywhere, as if the Earth itself was wounded, damaged beyond repair. Raindrops fell in an unrelenting torrent; Hak thought it might be King Il, watching the carnage from the heavens, weeping, lamenting the violence his death had wrung, that which he had defied so entirely in life.
How had things come to this? They had been so close, so close to freedom, to peace…
He swept his spear in a wide arc, cutting through the oncoming soldiers as easily as blades of grass. The pang in Hak's shoulder was nothing compared to the pain in his chest. Three more to his tally. How many lives had he brought to an end already? How many families would starve waiting for a father, a brother, that was never coming home? Too many. More than any one man should be able to account for.
It tortured him in his darkest moments, sleepless nights spent tossing and turning, racked with guilt. Their faces flashing through his mind, one by one, slowly, excruciatingly slowly, enough for Hak to recount every contour of their faces, every detail of their final moments, yet not slowly enough for him to ever learn their names. They haunted him. They hated him. And rightfully so.
A general at fifteen. A force of nature. A freak. The Lightning Beast, they called him, to mimic the stroke of his blade. Inhuman. Unnatural. His tribe had heralded him as blessed by Raijuu, the legendary beast of thunder. But Hak knew better. There were no divine powers or mystical blessings bestowed upon him. He was nothing but a boy born from death. His first few breaths had been snatched greedily from the world as his mother had drawn her last. His father could not stomach a world without his wife, and so Hak was left alone. A baby baptised in grief, already treading on stolen time.
It made sense that it had been Mun-deok to find him by the river, all those years ago. It made sense that the Wind Tribe was made to be his home. After all, it was wind that snuffed out candlelight.
Mun-deok. Even in his old age, the man was unstoppable. Hak could just make him out through the chaos to his right, matching Joo-doh thrust for thrust, his eighty years of experience serving him well.
Su-Won was nowhere near his right hand man, nowhere in sight. Perhaps he had fled the battle. Was fleeing an act of cowardice or courage? For a king, the line was not so easily drawn. Su-Won's life represented more than most. He was the embodiment of his cause, a guiding light for those who followed him. Much like the Princess, his death would signify the end of a revolution. Which required more courage: to leave behind what you love, or to stay and fight for it?
He didn't know the answer. But Hak wished the Princess had chosen the former. He wished her a thousand worlds away from this battlefield, this graveyard, this moment. Instead, he found her back to his own, slinging arrow after arrow at enemies while Zeno, in full indestructo-mode, defended her front.
He didn't need to turn to check that her arrows were finding their targets. He had trained her well. She would not miss her mark. He could feel her back taut against his, shoulders rigid, as she drew the bowstring, again and again. No longer was she the girl whose hands trembled as she took aim. She was a warrior now, hardened, assured. Hak was sorry for it. Sorry for what she'd had to be become.
He still remembered what she'd said to him their first training session, the first time she'd picked up the bow. "I hate that part of you." The cruelty, the darkness. "Still, even at the expense of others, I wish to hold a weapon to protect you!"
To protect you. How many times had he thought those words to himself? He had grown strong enough to learn restraint, to strike without killing, to knock foes unconscious without inflicting incredible pain. Yet when it came to protecting her, restraint wasn't always enough.
Even at the expense of others. This too had always been true. It was never a choice, never so much as a question. The Princess came before anyone. If her life was in danger, he would strike first and deal with his own demons later. Hundreds of lives sacrificed in the preservation of one. And they tortured him, the faces, at night, but he couldn't regret them, not when he woke up to her face, alive and well and full of warmth, in the morning.
He could only regret that it still hadn't been enough. That in the end, the Princess' hands had become scratched and bruised, that she now bore scars not even honey could heal. He could hear her now, underneath the cries and pleas that echoed all around them, a steady stream. She was praying. Praying that her arrow would fly straight, and that the sacrifice would not be in vain. She prayed to Hiryuu that from pain would spring peace, and then shot her arrow into the hearts of men from the Sky Tribe, her former subjects, the people whom she wanted to help so dearly, one by one.
How had it come to this?
They had met at dawn, though only the birds seemed to know it. Crow calls echoed in the distance as they woke, while heavy clouds swirled above in ominous gray, blanketing the sky so thick that no patches of blue shined through. The two armies, one swathed in royal regalia, the other bedecked in makeshift battle armor, waited with baited breath at opposite ends of the field as the heads of parties converged in the middle.
Su-Won sat tall, proud atop his steed, every inch a king. His face betrayed nothing. His gaze remained trained on the dismal horizon, even as Yona presented their terms.
"Su-Won," she began, and though there were traces of sadness in the way she spoke the name, she did not stumble over it, as she once might have. Her eyes were clear, filled with determination, purpose... something more.
"I do not want things to end in bloodshed. Behind me stand my people, people who were once yours. People who have sacrificed for me. People whom I have sacrificed for. People whom you have sacrificed for. I know that, in your heart, you believe that what you are doing is right. You are carrying out Uncle Yu-hon's dying wishes, avenging his death, saving the country he fought for. I know this because I know you, Su-Won, and I loved you, Su-Won. A part of me… still loves you."
Though Su-Won still did not look at Yona, his hands tightened on the horse's reigns. Hak looked at the ground.
"I love you for holding my hand when Mother died. For all the nights you slept by my side. For telling me you love my hair… I loved you even when my heart was shattered into a million pieces. And then I tried to let go of that part of myself, so that I could mend it. But I couldn't. I couldn't let go. And I really tried.
"I think… I know that you are broken too, Su-Won. That you're trying to mend yourself. You have made allies of kingdoms we used to call our enemies. The people applauded you as strong, once. But they've turned against you now. Water, Earth, Fire, Wind… the people you sought to help. I don't pretend to know what path you are on. I'm sure the path you are following is the path that you believe is best for us all. But please, Su-Won, try to see. Try to see that it is not. Try to see that in the quest for expansion our men have died. Our crops have spoiled because there are no men left to tend the fields. You've conquered our enemies, but they resent Kouka for it. Xing, Sei, Kei… they're biding their time, waiting to turn on us, to reclaim their customs, their land."
She took a deep breath.
"Su-Won. Look at me." With difficulty, Su-Won turned to face her. Hak held his breath. He felt as if the entire world had narrowed to the two figures, standing there, sixteen years dangling between them.
"If you love Kouka like I know you do, please, stand down. Return the throne to me. It is my birthright, and my burden to bear. Please, I love the people like you do. I will lead them the best I can. I will not cast you out of the kingdom if you do not wish to leave. Kouka is your home."
Another breath.
"There's a valley. It's hidden, tucked away between the trees." Hak's gaze snapped over to hers, but she was focused on Su-Won. "I think… I think you might like it there. The beauty, the peace. Seems like a good place to start over." She smiled tentatively. "Maybe… I could even visit you. I'd certainly like to go again."
She stepped towards him, reached out a hand. "Come down from your horse. Please. Come down, and we can start over."
They stood frozen like that for what seemed like a long while, their gazes locked, her hand outstretched. Then Su-Won lifted his own hand, and Hak felt his heart swell, about to burst. Finally. Finally, it was over.
But Su-Won did not place his hand in the Princess' own. Instead he raised it high into the air. "Joo-doh," he said quietly. "Read the terms."
The sky general quickly stepped forward. The spell the Princess' speech had cast was broken. He spoke rapidly, efficiently, no trace of sentiment.
"For the murder of the late King Il, the kidnapping of the Princess, and rebellion against the crown, we demand the head of the former Son Hak, as well as his army's surrender, in exchange for our peaceful cooperation.
If these conditions are met, Princess Yona will be welcomed back to the throne, as King Su-Won's wife and Queen of Kouka Kingdom."
For a moment, the words did not register. Then the Princess stammered, "W-what?"
Hak felt his mind go numb.
As if from a distance, Hak heard Joo-doh explain. "The people have rebelled against King Su-Won and rallied behind you, Princess Yona. Yet we can regain their loyalty through the peaceful union of yourself and King Su-Won. Your treason will be explained as the work of former general Hak, who murdered the late King Il and kidnapped you when the King dismissed him from his post, feeling that Son Hak had become too attached to his daughter. It is perfectly plausible. Soon it will be accepted as truth. This is the ideal solution, as it minimizes casualties while allowing us to maintain the relationships we have formed with our neighboring nations. If you love the people of Kouka as you say you do, you will see this, and accept the role you must play in the solution."
Yona looked faint.
"If you do not accept these terms," Joo-doh continued, more grave, "you and your army will be considered guilty of treason. King Su-Won's army will act accordingly."
For the first time, Joo-doh's professional demeanor seemed to lessen a fraction. "Princess Yona," he said, softer than before. "Surely you will see the effectiveness of this solution. The fate of your companion is… regrettable." He did not look at Hak. "But you said yourself that you loved Lord Su-Won moments ago, did you not? And that you love your people. Surely… the lives of so many outweigh this one. And Hak is a noble man. He will see the dignity in this death."
Finally, someone looked at him. Joo-doh's dark eyes seemed pained, but he did not back down. "Won't you, Lord Hak?"
He knew he should say something, but he couldn't think straight. Numb. All over, he was numb. There was a twinge of pain along the back of his skull, from the previous night's wound. He focused on it. Pain. He was always causing pain. The Princess had bandaged his wounds last night… had it only been last night? Mere hours before? The Princess had protected him. That was backwards. That was wrong. Protection… that was his job. Protection and pain. Pain and protection. Pain and…
He stepped forward.
"No!" Yona cried. "Hak, do not move. You promised me. You made me a promise!"
A promise. Promises and pain and protection and-
"Princess Yona? Are you refusing our terms?"
Protection and promises and pain and-
"I will marry Lord Su-Won, but I cannot give you Hak. He is my protector."
Protector. Protector of promises and-
"We acknowledge the bond you share with Lord Hak, Princess Yona. But you must see, for the sake of solidarity, he cannot be allowed to live given the circumstances."
"No."
"Princess, pl-"
Promises and Princess and pain and protection-
"Unacceptable. He is too precious to me."
Precious. He is too precious to me. I promise. I promise. I promise. Princess-
"Is this your final answer, Princess?"
Princess-
"I see. Then we shall send for our troops. We will keep our eyes peeled for the white flag on the field of battle, should you change your mind."
"I will not."
The first raindrop hit the bridge of Hak's nose, slid down his cheek. Pain. Protection. Princess. Promises.
King Il. I'm sorry. I've failed you.
The world was ending. That was the price of Hak's stolen time. All around him, men bled and fell and rose and fell again and bled some more, were broken and remade, while the rain poured through it all, pummeling, pleading, pounding in time with Hak's hyperdrive heartbeat.
Many of these men, Hak knew, had never seen battle before. Had dreamt for it, wished for it. A chance to rise up. A chance to prove valor, to win glory. Once, he had been the same. But he had learned.
A spear swipe through a man's neck. Quick, painless. Another careened towards him, driven crazy with battle-rage.
"You made me a promise."
He had promised what? To keep her safe. Yet here she was, in the greatest danger she had ever been, all because of him.
A jab through the gut.
"I promise."
He saw six more approaching in phalanx formation from his left flank.
"I promise."
He yanked the spear out of the dying man's body.
"I promise."
He felt something give way in his shoulder, shooting pain down his spine and into his ribs. He knew if he were to look, he would find blood seeping through the bandages she had tied so carefully the night before, evidence of idiocy, byproducts of a broken vow.
all those who had fallen, still more surged to take their place. How many strong was Su-Won's army? How long had they been fighting? It seemed as if it would never end. In the back of his mind, he knew that the fighting would end eventually. Their cause would emerge victorious, guaranteed. With Shin-ah's supernatural powers, and Zeno's… but at what cost? So many had fallen already, so many lives…
"Surely… the lives of so many outweigh this one."
If he had spoken, if he had accepted the terms, this all would have been avoided. He would be dead by now. She would be safe. But- he'd had to protect her. He couldn't leave her; she'd said she was going to fight-
Jae-ha landed beside the Princess, his grace in stark contrast with the havoc all around them. "More arrows, my lady." He tried to keep up his usual flirty pretense, but even the green dragon seemed beat down, lackluster as he refilled her quiver. "Would you like to leave the premises? Say the word and I'll fly you away."
"No. I'll stay."
Hak grit his teeth. Jae-ha sighed. "It was worth a shot, ne?"
For the first time since the rain had begun to fall, Hak spoke. "Princess, you should go."
He felt her falter behind him, only for a moment, before notching another arrow. "How can you say that?"
"I cannot protect you. Jae-ha can take you to safety."
"I'm safe here with you."
"You're not!"
"You promised."
"I-! Please, you don't understand! My wounds- I'm sorry, Princess. I'm weakening. Go with Jae-ha."
"I will not. I will stay by your side. I will protect you."
Promises and protection and-
"Princess. I will fall. I can feel it."
"You will not!"
"I will!"
"Then I will fall, too!"
Was this what all the promises had brought him? Protection and promises and Princesses in pain- I will fall, too.
"No," he murmured sadly. "You will not."
King Il, forgive me. I have failed you so many times. But let this be my redemption.
He gripped Jae-ha's arm. "Brother, raise the flag."
The green dragon's eyes widened. "Are you crazy, Lightning Beast? All this will be for nothing!"
"Only if you don't raise the flag."
He felt it wash over him, then: all his stolen moments. A newborn baby by the riverside. A naive boy atop the highest tower. A broken man, wrapping the woman he loves in his arms.
"Raise it, Jae-ha. My course is set." Jae-ha's gaze, indignant, flashed towards Hak's, ready to argue, only to be met with a kind of serenity in the younger boy's eyes. An understanding passed between them. Jae-ha softened, then turned and began to rifle around the medpack he wore, pulling out the last of the long fabric Yun had used to patch him up just a few hours before.
Yona whirled around. "Jae-ha, don't!" But he had already leapt into the air.
She turned to Hak in desperation, beating him with her fists, pleading. "Don't! Don't you dare! I'll never forgive you! You have to fight, Hak! You promised-"
Promises and Princesses and protection and pain.
Hak let go of the pain that had kept him tethered since the battle had begun, felt the numbness wash over him again, threatening to pull him under like the rain.
The rain…
The rain had stopped.
King Il…
Finally, he had succeeded. Finally, he would protect her.
Around him, he heard the horns begin to trumpet. Men slowed in their slaughter. They looked up in disbelief as light began to trickle through the retreating rainclouds, illuminating the silhouette of Jae-ha, the white flag trailing behind him like angel wings, the harbinger of peace.
He heard the men around begin to laugh, begin to cry, begin to sing, and finally, Hak felt like he had done something right.
He began to turn to the Princess, smiling, but was taken by surprise as she tackled him, screaming, pushing him to the ground. Tears flowed uncontrolled from violet eyes as her hysteria grew, mounting with every pound of her fist into his chest. "I won't let them take you! I won't! I w- it's not worth it- I- Hak, I won't forgive you! They can't take you from me! I won't let go. I won't. I won't let go!" She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest. "I won't let go," she murmured feverishly into his skin. "I won't let go. I swear to you, I won't let go."
He could hear hoofsteps approaching. His time was up. "Princess."
"I won't. I won't."
"Princess."
"They'll have to take me with you."
"Princess."
"I swear to you, I won't."
"Yona."
Her name was foreign on his lips. She blinked at him, shaken. She was still crying. Why was he always making her cry?
"Again." she demanded, in a tone he had not heard from her in many months.
"What?"
"My name. Say it again."
"Yona," he said, and it was apology and explanation and confession in one. It was his failures and his lies and his secret truths, finally spoken, finally laid bare.
It was his goodbye. It was her undoing.
She launched herself at him, took his mouth with her own, and he was dimly aware that there were people all around watching and that he should not be allowing the Princess to behave in this way and that the hoofsteps were close, so close
and then she whispered, "I love you, too" and he wasn't aware of anything at all, nothing but the simple truth that his whole life had led to this moment, and this moment, and this moment, each more beautiful, more crimson than the one before.
Then he heard the horse whinny, and knew that he had stolen his last.
"Yona," he whispered between kisses, struggling to push her away as she pulled him closer. "Yona." He took her hands, pressed his forehead against hers, clasped her hands tighter to prevent her from threading her fingers between his own. "Yona," he breathed.
"You have to let go."
A sob spilled out of her like it had escaped from the deepest recesses of her heart. "I won't. Not ever."
And with this, she collapsed against him, spent.
He checked her pulse. Steady. He kissed her forehead, scooped her gently into his embrace, and rose, depositing his Princess in Kija's awaiting arms. She would awake to a new world.
Snot dripped in a rather undignified manner from Kija's nose.
"Lightning Beast, I will-"
He cut off his friend's blubbering with a hug. "I know you will. Thank you."
He thanked them in turn. Kija, Shin-ah, Zeno, Jae-ha, Yun, one by one, then all together. With them, he knew, she would be safe.
He waved goodbye to Mun-deok, to Han-dae and Tae-woo, kept at a distance by Su-Won's guards. He hoped they understood.
Then he turned to kneel before the man he had once called best friend.
Finally, finally, he would make good on his promise.
xxxxxx