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Chapter Text

Naksu had no idea how she got there. After the fight with Park Jin of Songrim, everything was a bit of a hazy, blood-filled blur. She vaguely remembered fleeing through Daeho fortress until she arrived at the seedy tavern. At that point, her blood loss was so severe that she started seeing red spots on the edges of her vision. Fleeting images of pushing the weak, blind girl aside and grabbing the waitress ran across her mind. But none of that explained why she ended up in a boat with a piece of hemp covering her eyes. Did the men of Songrim find out who she was? The alchemy of souls had definitely been successful, considering the fact that she was alive. Did they see the blue mark? Maybe she was being taken to Songrim.

“Mu-deok, are you alright?”

The voice was male, but she sincerely doubted that any mage would be calling her by that name if they knew who she was. Was that the name of the waitress? But, then, why the eye covering? Then it hit her. She was in the body of the blind girl. She remembered seeing her floating there during the alchemy of souls. There was just one thing, this girl definitely wasn’t blind. Gingerly, to test her theory out, she pulled down the covering with two fingers. She could definitely see.

“Funny,” she mused under her breath, “I was sure that this girl was blind.”

Now that she could see, she quickly surmised that she was in a boat in the middle of Daeho fortress. There were two men with her. The man who called her earlier turned back to face her. She quickly closed her eyes. For this to work, they couldn’t suspect what she was about to do. With any luck, she could still have her revenge against the four greatest mage families in Daeho.

“Mu-deok, are you feeling unwell?” The man asked.

“Yes,” she replied weakly, “I’m having a slight headache.”

“We’re nearly there, don’t worry.” Good. He didn’t suspect a thing.

After he turned back, she quickly surveyed her surroundings. There was a bridge coming up. It may take a little more effort in this body, but Naksu was sure that she would be able to pull herself up and work her way through the city. She crouched in anticipation as the boat approached the bridge. With a perfectly timed leap, she clung to the ridges of the supports. She hoisted herself up, and-

Wait. Why couldn’t she lift herself? She grunted with the effort and exertion, her face contorted in sheer desperation. There was no avail. Hopefully, she could still just use her energy to lift her up. She did reach the highest levels of chisu, after all. She dropped one hand and tried to summon the energy, but it was no use. There wasn’t even the faintest glimmer in her hand. Her other arm screamed with the effort of keeping her suspended on the bridge. She inwardly cursed her body, scrambling to get her other hand on the bridge. A fraction of a second too late, she realised that there was no way in hell she was staying like this for much longer.

“HELP. MISTER, PLEASE HELP ME!”

The man on the boat turned around in utter confusion. The expression quickly morphed into shock and disbelief when he saw her hanging for dear life on a bridge. Luckily they weren’t too far away. He yelled indistinctly at the rower to turn back. At this point, Naksu’s hands were shaking with the effort of keeping her up.

“Just a couple more seconds,” she muttered, through gritted teeth. “Just hold on for a bit longer,”

To its credit, her body did hold on for a bit longer. Specifically 2 seconds. She crashed into the water and began desperately flailing around to stay afloat. The boat loomed into sight, and she felt herself being bundled up into it. Water had found its way to every single part of her body- a distinctly unpleasant feeling, she found herself learning. Swimming at Danhyanggok had always been different. The water in the river there was clean, crisp, and icy cold. She always came out fresher than she went in. This canal water felt more like pond sludge. And, to top it all off, it was lukewarm- giving one the feeling that they were swimming in soup. The man helped her towel herself off, all the while scolding her for being so foolhardy. What was she thinking- grabbing onto a ledge when she couldn’t see? Her mind was preoccupied, if she was being honest. She had no idea how she would manage to avenge her father if she didn’t have the energy to do even a single pull up. She, who once ran the entire distance of the valley at Danhyanggok in one day, and trained throughout the night with barely a sweat. She couldn’t muster any energy- she, who was able to wield tansu as easily as a child wielding a toy. This significantly complicated matters.

The man sighed, clearly at the end of his rant. He turned to the rower and seemed to vaguely gesture at one of the nearby stalls. As they approached it, the aromas coming from inside nearly bowed Naksu over. Her stomach practically growled in anticipation. She again felt herself silently in contempt of this body. In Danhyanggok, she had learned to function on the barest scraps of food for weeks on end, and her body became accustomed to the constant hunger. Her bloodlust was far greater than any other desire she had. Clearly, hunger was able to bring this body to its knees.
Placing her thoughts aside, she turned her attention to her companion at the other end of the table. The eye covering was slipping slightly, and she readjusted it. He seemed to be midway through his sentence.

“… Chwiseonru. I really tried to find some other way for you, but there was no one else who wanted a blind girl. I’m just happy your grandmother wasn’t here to see this. The woman, Ju-wol, seems fine, though. I’m sure you will be in good hands.”

At this point, a waiter had come and brought down a platter of food for them. In the middle of it lay the steaming carcass of a chicken. Naksu recoiled. As an assassin, she must have been more sensitive to blood, for she could never eat anything that bled.

“Eat up,” the man was saying, noticing her decided lack of movement towards the food, “you need your energy for when we get there,”
She still didn’t move towards the food. The man began to get impatient and tore off one of the legs of the chicken. Naksu protested, “No, no, I don’t-”
She was cut off mid-sentence by a wad of meat being stuffed in her mouth. It was like it had exploded. Flavours that she had had no idea existed danced on her tongue, and her eyes widened in surprise. “What is this?” she found herself wondering aloud. She saw the man lifting another piece of chicken to his lips. In one fluid motion, she had lunged across the table and snatched it from him, scarfing it down like a rabid wolf. She doubted that she looked ladylike, but, then again, when had she ever been ladylike? The man chuckled.

“Enjoy yourself,” he said, “do whatever you want now, because I doubt you’ll be able to when we get to Chwiseonru.”

At the time, her chicken leg was much more interesting that anything the man had to say, so it barely registered. Afterwards, when the source of the distraction had been reduced to a pile of bones, she allowed herself to dwell on the statement. She didn’t know anything about Chwiseonru- growing up in the isolation of Danhyanggok had deprived her of any form of a social life. Now, she began to wonder what that man had meant by his statement. The gears in her mind had started to turn, and she tried to think of any profession that was considered undesirable where vision was apparently optional. She really couldn’t think of any.

Chwiseonru really wasn’t very far. The sight of the vast structure only further confused her. She had absolutely no idea what she was getting into. She took note of the security as they entered the threshold. It was difficult to do, considering the fact that her eyes were covered, but she managed it. After all, she was still essentially Naksu. It wouldn’t be too difficult to escape when she needed to. That said, though, she thought that it would be better to lie low for a while- she had to get her bearings before she could really do anything.

They had stopped now. They were in a courtyard in front of an admittedly intimidating set of stairs. From what she could tell, they were waiting for someone. Someone in authority, she would be guessing. The mistress of whatever establishment this was? Finally, whoever it was joined them.

"Ju-wol," The man said, "this is the girl we agreed on. I trust you have the money,"

"Ah, yes," she replied handing him a pouch. It looked heavy, "but she seems a lot skinnier than what you described. Uglier, too. Never mind, though, I suppose we just have to make do."

The man turned and left. Naksu was torn between bewilderment and indignation. But the reflection she saw in the canal proved that, whoever this Ju-wol was, she was right. Her face flushed nevertheless. Ju-wol directed her attention towards Naksu in earnest. Naksu strained to see her features through the eye covering, but vaguely made them out. There was no doubt about it, Ju-wol was an extremely beautiful woman. Her features were the delicate and enticing ones women strived for everywhere in Daeho. She was well-proportioned, too. Her figure being obviously full and firm, apparent even underneath her heavy layers of clothing. Naksu found herself noting that Ju-wol must be relatively well off, to afford her attire. A sharp remark swiftly brought back her attention.

"What are we going to do with you? Maybe fatten you up a little. You may look prettier if you weren't so skinny. Men around here don't want girls who look half-starved anyway."

Naksu nearly keeled over with the realisation. She had just been sold off to be a gisaeng. She felt like throwing up. The only reason that thought didn't occur to her sooner was the fact that she had never been exposed much to anything. She wasn't naïve, per se, but there was only so many things one could learn under the danju, and sex work wasn't one of them.

"Mu-deok, is it?" Ju-wol asked her

"Does it matter?" was her reply.

"Impertinence won't get you anything here. Keep your head down and do what you're told. We happen to be a very important institution and we have a reputation to protect."

"I'm sure you have a sterling reputation. You must positively be a centre of intellectual conversation and philosophy." Naksu's voice oozed sarcasm. She was rewarded for it by a swift cuff to the back of her head. In her former body, it may have been painful in the same way a mosquito bite was- more of an irritation than anything else, but it made this body see stars.

"What did I tell you?" Ju-wol stated more than asked, still seeming pleasant, "You'd better learn to bite your tongue. Anyway, we happen to frequently entertain the four seasons of Daeho, so it's not like our clientele are riff-raff in any way."

"The who?" Naksu enquired.

Ju-wol looked at her like she was a grasshopper that managed to grow to human size and danced a jig. "You don't know who the four seasons of Daeho are? How? Did you live under a rock?"

"Da- Sari Village is actually quite far from Daeho Fortress, and I grew up with my grandmother, so I don't really know a lot about a lot."

Ju-wol still appeared sceptical, but carried on. "The 'four seasons' is the name that was given to the heirs of the four greatest mage families in Daeho: Jin Cho Yeon, heir to the Jin family of Jinyowon, has the vitality and prettiness of Spring; Park Dang Gu, heir to the Park family of Songrim, has the energy and heat of the Summer' Seo Yul-" Naksu felt herself twinge. Seo Yul . All these years later, and his name still brought back a flood of regrets and what if's that she couldn't let herself get into. She needed to focus. "- heir to the Seo family of Seoho fortress, has the nobility of an autumn sunset; and Jang Uk, son of Jang Gang- the Gwanju of Cheonbugwan, who's icy demeanour is like a winters breeze,"

Naksu let herself linger on those names- Jin, Park, Seo and Jang. The families whose elders she had seen on that grim day, standing over the corpse of her father, cutting him down for no reason. Resentment and intense bloodlust stirred up in her. One day she would wreak the havoc on them that they had on her years ago. She would cut out the heart of these families. All it took was extinguishing the light of their heirs, one by one. Naksu was patient, she could wait.

But, first, there was a pressing matter to deal with- her escape. She knew that she had wanted to lay low, but there was no way in hell that she was going to stay as a gisaeng. She would rather plunge her sword into her own heart than let anyone else plunge their sword anywhere else in her (if you know what she meant). Ju-wol had led her into a room after getting her changed to do her hair.

"Do you mind if I do this alone?" She asked weakly.

"Why?" said Ju-wol.

"I need to prepare,"

"Yes, and I can help you." Ju-wol seemed confused.

"No, mentally. I need to mentally prepare myself for this,"

"Ah," Ju-wol said, "I understand. Take all the time you need."

Naksu waited until Ju-wol and her several petticoats had evacuated the room before tossing her eye covering and grabbing as much of the jewellery laid out on the table in front of her, showing a heavy preference towards the gold. She was nearly ready when Ju-wol walked back in. She stared, dumbfounded at the scene in front of her. Naksu froze.

"You can see," Ju-wol managed to splutter out. She took a step forward, and her excitement propelled her towards Naksu, "Wait, how did you-"

Naksu grabbed the tin of powder in front of her and threw it directly in Ju-wol's face. Then, she booked it before Ju-wol could stop coughing.

She raced through the halls of Chwiseonru, unaware of exactly how she would manage to get herself out of this mess, but fairly confident she would. She assumed that Ju-wol had managed to remove enough of the chalky powder from her mouth to talk, because there were now guards who seemed hell-bent on getting her. Finding herself at a dead-end, she darted into the room on her right. And immediately crashed into a figure who was distinctly male. She cursed inwardly.

Shaking off the shock, the man disentangled himself from her, and gave her a quick look before immediately looking away. "I didn't come here to get that kind of thing."

Naksu couldn't care less about his delicate sensibilities, "Good, because I'm not here to give it. Now do you mind?" She gestured vaguely at the fact that he was blocking her way to the window.

He was incredulous, and didn't comply. He seemed to be studying her face intently. He was tall, and handsome, she supposed. She didn't really notice those things. She was too busy looking at the weaknesses in their stance and calculating how long it would take to bring them down. He would barely last a minute, even in this body. His gaze was travelling downwards, and he took a step closer. His hand reached up for her face and he angled his head downwards. She was briefly suspended in disbelief. Then, she leapt into action. She lunged for a crab leg from the table behind the man, and spun around in the familiar motions of tansu to pin him to the wall behind them. The crab leg was pointed at the vital point on his neck, and moved with the motion of his gulp. It took a little effort, because she was holding a crab leg and not a sword, but she applied more pressure and drew a bead of blood. His eyes widened and she glared.

"I told you, I'm not here to give you that sort of thing, do you understand?" He nodded. "Now, give me the most valuable thing you have with you, and I'll be on my way."

He took a pouch from his waist and handed it to her. She removed the crab leg and jumped out of the window, finding herself immediately on the streets of Daeho. This time, she was one heavy pouch and a few gold ornaments wealthier. Her stomach rumbled. She looked around and found a stall selling chicken skewers. Smiling to herself, she made her way there and bought one.

Just as she was putting it to her lips, a bulky man bumped right into her and caused the skewer to fall to the ground. She huffed. How dare he? She whirled around and stared him straight in the eye. A little voice in the back of her head was telling her to rethink it, but a red haze quickly drowned it out.

"And what-" she spat, "- is wrong with you?"

He looked surprised, "Me? Why on earth are you even talking to me?"

She took a step closer and shoved a finger into his burly chest, "You owe me a chicken skewer. Now."

He bent forwards, his breath reeked of stale soju, "And what are you going to do about it?"

She lunged, clawing at his face. There was no tactic to it, it was pure rage. She vaguely recalled the several martial arts lessons the danju had given to her, but she was mostly a swordswoman, she had had no use for hand-to-hand combat.

The man was late with his response, mostly due to surprise, but he hit back quickly. He slammed his palm into her neck, immediately flooring her. He picked her up, as if she were nothing more than a feather, and threw her into the stall she was just at. The wood splintered and dug into her back. He then kicked her stomach. Over and over again. So hard she started coughing blood out. He had reared his foot back to strike again when a blast of energy forced him to take a few steps back.

Naksu was disoriented, floating in and out of consciousness, but she remembered seeing a mage in pale green brandishing two swords. He whirled and lunged with a grace and ease she hadn't seen on anyone else in the battlefield. He wasn't hungry for blood either, seeming to know instinctively when he had done enough to intimidate the man into submission without having to hurt him. He would be a worthy opponent. She could tell.

As soon as the thug had run off with his tail between his legs, the mage knelt over Naksu. He scanned her over, seemingly assessing her injuries. She could feel the warming effect of energy throughout her body, pulsing like a gentle stream within her. He was healing her. His free hand went to the back of her neck, elevating it so the blood wouldn't run into her eyes. It was then that she could actually get a look at him. He was staring into her eyes, and she could have sworn she saw a tiny speck of blue reflecting in them as they widened. But she was hardly noting the little details like that. There was something bigger that had her occupied. It was him. Seo Yul. The boy at Danhyanggok. The boy with the bird whistle. The boy whose heart she had cut in half.

Before she could stop herself, she felt herself breathing out a single word, "Yul". Her head went limp against his arm.

And then the world went black.

Chapter Text

Beads of sweat began were dripping down his neck. He was beginning to feel the tell-tale signs of exhaustion. But he couldn’t stop. Not now. He was close, he could feel it. He was in an open field beyond jeongjingak training. He brought both his swords to resting position and closed his eyes. He took three deep breaths, centring the energy in his core. He could feel the hum of energy as he guided it through the stage of jipsu.
He remembered the days as a little boy sitting outside Sejukwon and listening to Master Heo telling him the importance of controlling one’s own torrent of energy.

“Many people make this mistake, Yul,” he would say, “but just because a dog doesn’t bother to attack you does not mean that it obeys you. You must make sure that every time you use your torrent of energy, you first centre it. If you forget- Ah, that idiot Yi-Joon. He mixed up the chaste herbs with the fertility ones. How am I supposed to explain it to Mrs Yoon?” Yul was thankful he left so soon, because the fact that poor Yi-Joon had nothing to do with it was written all over his face. He distinctly remembered Dang Gu running from Sejukwon late a few evenings ago.

He smiled softly at the memory and channelled the now-centred energy into his swords, feeling the warmth of the energy as it moved through his arms and into the sword. It felt as if there were now cords that bound his swords to his hands. The energy flowing through them had made them extensions of Yul himself. He had been the fastest mage in the history of Jeongjingak to master Ryusu. It had only taken him 9 months. Jang Gang, Uk’s father, had done it in a year before. However, not wanting to draw attention to himself, he hid it for 2 years after that. It was during that period that a thirteen-year-old Yul found this field. He had nearly been caught wielding a sword inside Jeongjingak about a year after he attained Ryusu, and ran out in a panic. After blindly tearing through the woods, he stumbled (quite literally, falling flat on his face) on to the field. Despite its openness, it was remote. Quiet. Beautiful. It reminded him of another open place he used to frequent back then.

He exhaled, opening his eyes. He couldn’t afford to think of Danhyanggok. It would only distract him. He didn’t want to think of the birds. Or the bird whistle. Or the girl who happened to have his whistle now. That chapter had been sealed the minute her knife sliced through the flowers in his hand. Not that he had wanted it to, but thinking about it only brought back regrets he couldn’t afford to linger on.

He began to move his swords in the Seossaum of the Seo family. The air around him thrummed and he began to move faster. His hands flashed in the pale sunlight and his footsteps fell silent on the grass. He lunged and parried in the air as if doing the steps to some intricate dance. He continued to channel more and more energy into his sword until he felt the tightness that indicated his limit. From that point, he truly went all out. He thought to the years he spent watching Park Jin in the halls of Jeongjingak, helping younger mages or giving demonstrations. He thought back to the countless nights he spent pouring over texts in the library of Jeongjingak. He deliberately slowed his breathing and heart rate, tuning himself into his surroundings. He allowed himself to truly be present in the moment, feeling the droplets of moisture in the air where they touched his skin.
He focused on the subtle thrum of the energy of the water around him. He zeroed in on it, much like he did when first reading Seo Gyeong’s Words of the Heart. Then, almost painfully slowly, he tried to extend the cords of energy from his sword outwards. The seconds ticked by, and Yul felt his concentration beginning to slip. He was disheartened, but it wasn’t unexpected. Most mages took decades to master chisu, if at all. He had only been training to reach it for 8 years. It was getting late, too. The sun was about to set. He had to leave soon.

Then, just as he was about to put his swords down, it clicked. Something deep within his core connected to the world around him. The cords that bound his hands to his swords had snapped, being replaced with a flowing stream running through him. It was difficult to put into words, but he could distinctly feel and identify every single droplet of water in the atmosphere around him. No matter how small, each was intrinsically linked to him. Rather than being drained from the massive amounts of energy flowing through him as he had been earlier, it was replenishing him. He was drawing from the bottomless well of energy around him, and it quickened the pace of his footsteps in the repeated patterns of Seossaum. He took a deep breath. It was time to fully test his newfound ability. He danced through the rest of the steps, and crossed his swords together. Then, he simultaneously uncrossed them, sending a beam of energy straight to the rock in front of him, threw them in the air and summoned the moisture in the air in front of him, propelling it forwards as daggers of ice behind the blast of energy. The rock shattered like glass just as he caught both hilts of his swords.

Words could not describe the pure joy he felt at that moment. His happiness alone could have carried him through the streets of Daeho, and he wouldn’t have to lift a single finger to do it. He stood there, dumbfounded and elated, until his pulse went back down to normal and his breaths evened and became shallow. Yul was not above using chisu unnecessarily in child-like glee, and did precisely that to dry the droplets of sweat that clung to his skin. Night threatened to envelop the field around him. His face was stretched in a grin that he never would have cracked in public. To everyone else, he was the pinnacle of order and restraint. Everything about him was mild and moderated. At least, that’s what everyone thought he was. He never allowed himself to show more than what was necessary. His father used to always tell him to never wear his heart on his sleeve, and he made it a point to live by those words. No one had seen what Yul hid behind his placid and noble demeanour.

No one but her. He cursed himself. Her memory had haunted him for 8 years, and yet he still didn’t know her name. He knew nothing about her. Except for the fact that she wanted nothing to do with him. Continuing with the thread of negative thoughts, his mind turned to his family and Seoho fortress. He promised his father that he would remain at Jeongjingak until he mastered Chisu, upon which he would return and succeed him. He thought of Dang Gu and Uk. He had no intention of leaving Daeho now. He couldn’t bring himself to face a return to the strain and rigour of Seoho fortress. It wasn’t that it was a particularly harsh or cruel environment, but there was an air of perpetual frost. The lack of warmth permeated every crevice in the military stronghold, starkly contrasting with the colourful environment of Daeho fortress. He knew it was his birth right, and a responsibility that he could not shirk, but he was in no hurry to claim it. In one of his few acts of selfishness, Yul decided that he wouldn’t tell anyone about it. He would not lie (correction, he could not lie. Like, he physically could not bring himself to tell a falsehood. The last time he tried, he spent a night in Sejukwon being treated), but he wouldn’t go out of his way to brag about it. It was doubtful anyone would ask. No one would have expected it to happen until at least 3 years from that point.

His train of thought crashed at about the same time he did, smashing straight into a considerably sizeable tree. His lack of any sort of sense of direction when he was distracted had reared its ugly head. He surveyed his surroundings, and realised that he was behind the corridor leading to Songrim’s secret room. He could enter there, then find his way back to Jeongjingak. It would be much quicker than any other routes. And that day had been an emotionally momentous for Yul- who could tell whether or not he would find himself halfway to Cheonbugwan if he continued walking in the open?

He crossed the threshold relatively quickly. He flashed the plaque of the Seo family that allowed him to enter the secret room as the heir to Jeongjingak. It was a mundane routine to him at this point, made unremarkable by repetition. He would never forget the first time he’d been able to do this, though. It felt almost like a rite of passage:

He had gone home to Seoho fortress for a few months after people found out about his reaching Ryusu. It was unavoidable. His father, the great General, had decided to finally grace his family with his presence. Yul wasn’t usually a resentful person, but he couldn’t help feel a childish twinge of it whenever interacting with his father. Duty always came first, and his family took a backseat. Yul understood why he did it, and objectively realised that he shouldn’t hold any bitterness, yet he never found a way to overcome it. His mother recognised her position as the mistress of Seoho fortress and occupied herself with the day-to-day running of the gargantuan barracks. Suffice to say, his family wasn’t a close one. Honour was the only thing holding it together, and Yul tended to stay in Daeho for as long as he possibly could.

Anyway, his father had sat Yul down and proceeded to give him a long-winded lecture about the legacy of the Seo family, placing heavy emphasis on their leadership of Jeongjingak dating back to the founder, Great Master Seo Gyeong. As if Yul didn’t already know every word of it. As if he didn’t hear it every single time he was in the same room as his father for more than 5 minutes. Yul couldn’t exactly place what caused him to actually pay attention this time round. Something in his father’s voice was different. If he didn’t know any better, he may have called it pride. But, at the end of it, when General Seo handed him the plaque of the Seo family, Yul realised with a start that it was pride. His father was trusting him with something that tied directly to the status, prestige and honour of the Seo family. He knew that the time would come eventually, but he didn’t expect it to be when he was fourteen years old. For the first time in a long time, Seo Yul felt the inexplicable urge to hug his father. And he did. But the most unexpected thing of all? Instead of pushing him away, his father returned the embrace. Crushingly. It was one of the happiest moments of Yul’s life.

For years after that, using the plaque was a wonder. A reminder of that day. Each use stirred up the desperate need to earn his father’s approval, pride and respect once more. But that fantasy came crashing down when he was personal witness to his father sanctioning the execution of a platoon of soldiers for stealing food from the barracks in a time of famine and using it to aid the enemy. They had been doing it to feed starving villagers who just happened to be on the wrong side of the border. He would never forget his father’s words, “It matters not whether the intentions behind an action are pure or good. So long as the action itself is wrong, the doer is undoubtedly in the wrong and deserves to be punished accordingly.”
His friends all thought that Yul saw the world in black and white, like his father. That was the furthest thing from the truth. He, much like Jang Uk, was painfully aware of the shades of grey that surrounded every situation. Unfortunately, unlike Uk, he couldn’t afford to voice that opinion. He, as the heir to the Seo family, had to do the right thing- morally reprehensible or not. It was his duty. But, he couldn’t bring himself to carry out that duty that day. He was meant to perform the execution himself, as was the custom for cases of high treason. He forged the records, sliced through watermelons, smeared goat’s blood and cremated non-existent bodies, all while guards were conveniently turned away. The village the soldiers helped found themselves with a larger population the next day. His father found out eventually, but by then Yul was safely in the halls of Jeongjingak.
Then, using the plaque felt like a punch to the gut- a painful reminder of his pre-determined fate. The pain subsided gradually, and now all he felt was blissful numbness. A feeling he employed in most aspects of his life. He could never be the son the Seo family needed if he cared too much, and he worked towards ensuring that he owed it to everyone to at least try to live up to the expectations held of him.

Yul was in the antechamber on the far side of the main room when something called on him to pause. He didn’t know what exactly it was, he assumed it was intuition. He could hear muffled voices approaching the secret room. It sounded a lot like Masters Jin and Heo. Another voice chimed in briefly- Sang Ho, he assumed. It was probably official Songrim business, and he had no intention of intruding so he turned to leave. But then he heard one word in the muffled chatter- Naksu. It froze him in his tracks. She was the biggest grey area he had seen in his life, and he never had the heart to separate her into black and white. Somehow, he knew that she could never be bound to distinct poles, but had to be left free to drift freely in-between. As much as he hated inserting himself in situations that did not concern him without good reason, he loathed eavesdropping with a passion. He had to make his presence known immediately.

He did so by stepping quietly in and making his way to the three men standing around a glowing table. Her figure was just visible above the edges.
“- likely means that her shifting was unsuccessful. However, we do need to prepare for the…” Park Jin’s voice trailed off as he noticed Yul standing there, “Seo Yul, what are you doing here?”

Yul absently noted the fact that he was asked a question. He was paralysed. It was physically draining to keep a handle on the emotions gnawing at his insides. The acute pain of loss stabbed him through the heart, then faded to the dull agony of grief, coupled with the sting of anger and the hollow ringing of disappointment. He had been coming to terms with the fact that what could have been had turned into what never will for a long time, now, but the sight of her body sealed and cemented the fact. From what he remembered of her, she was always larger-than-life, despite her perceptive and quiet manner. She was the strongest and most powerful person he had ever met, despite her small stature. She was a walking contradiction. A living, breathing representation of rebellion and rule-breaking. Yul should have been repelled-no, repulsed- by her, yet he was fascinated by her. Every single inch and ounce of her. But she was lying on the table in front of him. Her body was motionless and still. Her face bloodless and pale. Her clothes ragged and blood-soaked. She was so different from the girl he had met at Danhyanggok. He just couldn’t seem to associate her now to her then. It seemed impossible.

He was drawn out of his reverie by a hand on his shoulder, “Yul, are you alright?” It was Master Heo. He looked around to find all three men staring at him with curious and vaguely concerned faces.

He shook of the clinging strings of his thoughts and straightened his back, preparing to make the admission he should have made years ago, “I knew Naksu,” he said, “I met her years ago at Danhyanggok.” The expressions on the faces of Park Jin and Heo Yeom morphed to amusement. Sang Ho’s was unyieldingly neutral.

“Is that all, Yul?” Park Jin said, chuckling slightly, “Because we knew as much already.”

“What?” Yul was speechless.

“Well, we didn’t know that the girl you were always running off to meet was Naksu, but we knew that you were going to see one. Yul, you really are horrible at keeping secrets, and no one could possibly be that invested in birds.” Master Heo was nearly in tears at the sight of Yul’s puzzled face.
“And,” Park Jin added, “We believed that this was your handiwork.” He handed him a bird whistle. “We found it among her possessions. She carried it with her,”

Yul swallowed roughly. It wasn’t even the fact that they had known all along- in hindsight, he realised how transparent he had been. What floored him was the fact that she had kept the whistle all these years. He honestly thought that she would have burnt it as soon as his back was turned. The realisation that she may have been haunted by the same memories and hypotheticals that he had floored him. Master Heo, who he always thought of as the father he never had, placed an arm on his shoulder, clearly sensing his internal turmoil.

“Go to sleep, Yul. Nothing about this has to concern you.” Yul was grateful for him. Even though he was only a distant relation, Master Heo was closer to Yul than anyone in his nuclear family. He knew Yul better than everyone else did. He knew about his inability to truly remove himself from the emotional aspects of life, and gave him an out when he needed it. Yul didn’t know how to put the sentiment into words, but he settled for a brief bow and stumbled to his lodgings in Jeongjingak.

After a fitful sleep and hours of tearing holes into his carpet by pacing across it, Seo Yul decided to join Dang Gu and Jang Uk at Chwiseonru. He knew that Uk had ran away from whichever master of the month he had been training under, and knew that the two would be catching up over seafood. There was nothing like the antics of his friends to take his mind off the events of last night. It still felt surreal, and Yul had been running mechanically ever since, unable to bring himself to face the emotional implications of it all. A hollowness permeated everything within him now, and he was unsure about whether he wanted it to be replaced.

He was approaching Chwiseonru through the market street when he heard a piercing shriek. He couldn’t tell whether it was female or feline, but ran towards it nonetheless. When he came into view of the scene, he felt his veins ice over. A man who must have been about the size of a fully grown redwood tree was glowering over a tiny woman. She was bleeding profusely from the midst of a mess of a splintered stall. Well, formerly a stall. She was too weak to even groan as he kicked her repeatedly. One thing Yul couldn’t stand more than anything else was unfairness, and this was the most unequal fight he had seen. Regardless of who started it, the man could destroy her, and Yul just wouldn’t stand for that.

Before he could even stop to think about what he was doing, both of his swords were unsheathed and he had sent a blast of energy through the air, knocking the man backwards. By the time he stumbled and regained his footing, Yul had flown through the air and stood directly in front of him. The man grabbed a dagger from inside his shirt and lunged. Yul easily sidestepped it and brought his sword down in a clean arc. The dagger, along with a slight bit off the top of the fingers that held it fell to the ground with a slight clang. His other sword flashed in the air as Yul positioned it right underneath the man’s chin.

He leaned in and whispered, “If I so much as see you within eyeshot from this market, I will hunt you down and cut off the rest of those,” indicating the bloody scraps of skin on the ground. His voice was so soft, it was deadly. The man was wide-eyed, speechless in shock and pain. Without saying a word, he nodded, turned and fled. A trail of clear liquid dripped in his wake. Yul may have felt pity if he wasn’t already filled with contempt. Without missing a beat, he focused his attention with the woman in the wreckage.

He leaned over her, and used his hand to scan for injuries, placing them on her thigh when he got a comprehensive summary. He then channelled his energy into it to try and heal the physical side of it. She would still need time to replenish her energy. She groaned faintly, the effects of the healing starting to kick in. Yul looked into her face, wanting to ask her if there was anything else he could do for her. Then she opened her eyes.
In them, blooming like a blue lotus in the irises of them was the mark of the alchemy of souls. He felt his eyes widen with realisation, glimmers of hope filling the hollowness. But he quickly dismissed it. The marks vanished as quickly as they appeared. She opened her mouth to speak, struggling to get the words out, then finally settling on one, “Yul.” Then the damn woman fainted in his arms.

He was frozen in his position on the ground. There was no doubt in his mind that the woman currently unconscious and half in his lap was Naksu. A selfish little voice deep within him seemed to tell him that now was his chance. They could rekindle what happened all those years ago in Danhyanggok. He was damned if he didn’t the opportunity this time round. With his mind made, he hoisted her up, carrying her in a bridal lift. Just as he turned to go to Sejukwon, guards from Chwiseonru ran up behind him. One stepped forward and bowed.

“Young master Seo, we need to return the woman in your possession to Chwiseonru. I’m afraid she’s guilty of theft and belongs to Madam Ju-wol of Chwiseonru,”

Yul felt his mouth twisting in a slight smirk. She shifted into the body of a gisaeng? He felt sorry for whoever happened to be in her way as she bolted for the door. Slowly, a plan began to form in his mind. It was apparent that a trip to Chwiseonru was unavoidable.

“I will accompany you there,” he told the guards. Together, they all walked towards the complex.

“Are you sure you want to pay off her debt, young master?” Ju-wol asked incredulously at Seo Yul, “She is a thief and a liar, and I will undoubtedly sell her off, but I wouldn’t wish the likes of her on you, young master.”

“I am certain. She made quite the impression on me in the market, and I feel personally responsible. It would be helpful, however, if you could tell me a little bit more about her- at least what you know from her stay here.”

“There isn’t much to tell. I bought Mu-deok from an agent from the Sari village, and they arrived this morning. I was informed beforehand that she was blind, but that wasn’t the case. When I left her alone to get ready, she stole several ornaments as well as the silk hanbok we had given her. She could clearly see and threw powder in my eyes in order to escape. This is the eye covering she had thrown to the side, and these are the clothes she was wearing when she came in.” With that, Ju-wol handed him a bundle of cloth. He thanked her and assured that he would pay extra for the damages before excusing himself from the room.

He re-entered the room where he had left Naksu-no, Mu-deok- with Park Dang Gu and Jang Uk. It was apparent that he couldn’t tell them the whole truth, but he did let them know about the scene outside the market. Dang Gu was halfway through a laughing fit.

“Yul,” he wheezed out, “listen to Uk’s story,”

Yul turned to the man in question, who flushed in embarrassment, “There’s nothing to tell,” he said, glaring at Dang Gu, “I tried to stop her from leaving and she ended up threatening me with a crab leg.” Yul could make out a red gash on Uk’s neck. He had to admit that it was slightly amusing. But it did make the next part of his plan slightly more difficult. He wasn’t allowed to bring any of his own servants with him as a mage of Jeongjingak. Uk, on the other hand, could take whichever servants he wished to the Jang household.

“Uk,” Yul started, “do you remember when we were children and you broke a minor relic of Jinyowon?” Uk looked at him suspiciously, nodding with his eyes narrowed, “I did you a favour then by letting them believe that I was the one who did it. I need you to do a favour for me now. I paid off Mu-deok’s debt and feel a personal responsibility for her now. Unfortunately, I am unable to take her with me to Jeongjingak so I wish for you to take her on as a servant in the Jang household.”

“How many of these situations do you have to blackmail me into doing what you want?” Jang Uk sounded resigned.

“I’ll give you the ledger tomorrow.”

“What about me?” Dang Gu asked.

“The file is definitely thicker.” Both men looked at each other, “Don’t worry, though. I won’t use it unless it’s urgent.”

That’s how, when Naksu woke up on a mattress in Jang Uk’s house, Seo Yul’s face was the first thing she saw.

Looking into her eyes, he felt giddy. All of a sudden, he was the boy at Danhyanggok once more.

Except this time, he would not have any more regrets.

Chapter Text

Jang Uk had no words. Like, absolutely nothing. For once in his life, he had no smart-Aleck comments tucked up his sleeve or a retort he was holding back. Utterly, completely speechless is what he was. His brain was practically short-circuiting at the sight in front of him- could you ever imagine that Yul- Seo Yul of all bloody people- was lounging around one of his guest rooms, waiting for a gisaeng to wake up? Well, he supposed, not exactly a gisaeng, but he digressed. In all the years that he had known Yul (and that was a long time to put it mildly), not once had he known him to be anything other than upright and upstanding and all the other up's one could think of. Nothing, and he meant nothing, could ruffle Yul's feathers. It annoyed the hell out of him, to say the least. Except now. Now, he was watching his friend practically vibrating with excitement, waiting for the tiny girl in the centre of the room to open her eyes. You had to understand his confusion now.

He was still in his little state of catatonic shock when he felt an arm on his shoulder. It was Maidservant Kim. Uk felt a rush of warmth flood him at the sight of her. The woman standing in front of him (well, to be accurate, it was more like under him given the height difference) was the closest thing he had ever known to a mother. She raised him practically single-handedly. And not once did she ever speak ill of his father. He did, on several occasions, but she always chastised him for it. He never understood why she didn't harbour any resentment towards Jang Gang. After all, he had essentially abandoned the both of them- saddling her with an infant everyone would label as a bastard. And a useless infant, to boot. He ensured that by blocking his gate of energy. How she managed, and stayed positive on top of that, is a feat that Uk would neither ever fully comprehend, nor cease to be in awe of. This woman is a living saint. She proceeded to give him a swift cuff to the back of his head.

Scratch that, she was decidedly less saintly now. He rubbed the back of his head, looking at her in utter betrayal. She was entirely unfazed, meeting his stare dead on. Uk, who was far to proud to admit it to anyone else, felt himself shiver. She was mad. Mad, mad. Like, a mad that would take him a solid week of good behaviour and bribery to get out of. To top that off, he had no distractions with him. Bloody Yul and his stupid little crab-wielding hellion had him too frazzled to look out for his own good. Well, he thought as he steeled himself for the inevitable lecture that was to come, at least take it like a man.

Her eyes narrowed, and he knew that this lecture was going to be the mother-of-all lectures he had ever received (and that was saying something, considering the fact that he was the Jang UK. Wincing slightly, he thought back to all the ammunition he had given her ever since the last verbal lashing he had received. Sadly, saying that the amount was large would be an understatement. Possibly of the century.

It wasn't his fault, though. It was all thanks to that cursed father of his. He didn't ask to be born, so why did that infernal man feel the need to punish him for simply existing. Blocking a mage's gate of energy was, quite possibly, the most cruel punishment one could mete. Surpassed only by death. Wait, even that was preferable to never being able to wield something that was, quite literally, a part of you. And it wasn't like Uk didn't know what he was missing because he never experienced it. He could feel it within him. Pulses, ripples, flowing streams all over his body. He was acutely aware of it, and yet it was always out of reach. Always out of his control. And it drove him absolutely insane. He couldn't tell that to anyone else, though. It would only make the people who snickered behind his back laugh harder. And it would only make the pity in the eyes of those who loved him more apparent.

But that was also precisely why he couldn't be blamed for all the things that he was blamed for. For instance, being a bad pupil. I mean, how on earth did you expect him to diligently study 16 volumes of magical herbs without frustration? There were only so many forms of ginseng he could handle before he chucked the entire volume out of a window. The fact that it hit someone and meant they had to spend a few weeks consuming several forms of said ginseng was in no way his fault- it's not like he was the one who told them to stand there. It wasn't even that he minded doing all the reading. If he thought, that for even a second, one of his masters would open his gate of energy in return for it, he would have gladly read the entire 100 volume series of the aquatic life of Lake Gyeongcheondaeho. Twice. Except for one teensy, tiny issue. Not one of the powerful (or even average, if he was truly honest about the calibre of his numerous masters) mages had the spine to go against the great Jang Gang, Gwanju of Cheonbugwan, and (thanks to his own bad luck, or fate's sadistic nature) his bloody father. Allegedly. Or not. He wasn't really sure of the technicalities of bastardry.

He knew that he was disappointing people by leaving yet another one of the geezers that were assigned the burden of Jang Uk, but he couldn't bring himself to care at that moment. He was far too consumed by his own feelings of self-pity, worthlessness, and resentment. Park Jin's patience was wearing thin. Maidservant Kim's heart could only take so much more. He knew this, and yet, his selfishness and desperation drove him to lengths that even he could barely comprehend. It only added to the twisted, never-ending cycle of self-loathing he felt. An ouroboros that detailed just how pathetic he really was.

One of his lowest points was Jin Cho-yeon. He knew he was leading her on. He knew all about her schoolgirl crush on him. He knew that he didn't even have the slightest romantic inclination towards her, but he still allowed their little courtship to carry on. Allowed may not even be the right word here. Instigated was probably more fitting. But, in his defence, that was hardly new. He had been engaged so many times at that point, he had lost count. Jewellery salesmen had to put rings he had already purchased aside when he approached them with his newest fiancée on his arm. He hated himself for it, but he was convinced that these mage families would never allow themselves to have a son-in-law who couldn't even master his own energy. He underestimated their cowardice. Or maybe Jang Gang's sheer ability to inspire fear in people. Then again, Jang Uk wasn't feeling particularly complimentary towards his alleged father (not-father?), so he was the last person in Daeho to assign a positive attribute to his name. He thought, at the very least that Jin Cho-yeon would be different. After all, she was the heir to Jinyowon. The spring to the four seasons of Daeho. If the Jins wouldn't unlock his gate, no one would. Which led him into another self-destructive cycle, because after repeatedly swallowing his pride, Uk learned that Jin Ho-gyeong would rather cut off her own arm and throw it into the nearest relic of Jinyowon than unlock his gate. So, he broke that ill-fated engagement off (at least, he thought he did, but Jin Cho-yeon obviously thought differently) and proceeded to drown his sorrows in soju at Chwiseonru.

He was then sent to that sorry excuse for a mage. That was one particular placement that he didn't feel too badly about leaving (he didn't feel bad at all. Quite the opposite. He was elated to leave that godforsaken mountain and finally get his hands on some seafood. Which was how he found himself at Chwiseonru, sat in front of a mound of crab and a less-than-amused Dang-gu. Not that he took much notice of Dang-gu. Not when there was crab to be had. In fact, he was actively ignoring him since he so callously refused to use magic to de-shell the crab. So, he wasn't too hung up about it when he registered the fact that the room he was in was decidedly Dang-gu -less. He shrugged it off.

Eventually, though, even seafood loses its lustre, and Jang Uk began to feel his characteristic restlessness. His energy was a veritable storm today. He could feel torrents of it rolling around inside him, and he had the overwhelming urge to pull his hair out. To do something, anything that would just calm the relentless turbulence within. Then, all of a sudden, he felt something humanoid crash into him.

Looking down, he saw a gisaeng pressed up against him, seemingly trying to get her bearings. Inexplicably, the torrent inside him ceased. Well, not ceased exactly, but calmed. It was as if there was a steadying influence over them. Almost like the pull of the moon controlling the tides. Yet, he had no idea what on earth could have caused such a sudden and drastic shift. He hadn't felt this level of peace in, well, ever. Still, as much as he wanted to dwell on the issue, there were more pressing matters at hand. Namely, the woman that was literally pressed up against him. He managed to shake himself out of her grasp

"I didn't come here to get that kind of thing" He said, peering down at her, before looking away and trying to discern the reason behind his sudden state of contentment.

"Good," She replied, causing him to stare back at her in shock. Look at him, she should be so lucky. "because I'm not here to give it. Now, do you mind?" She gestured towards the window, which he dimly realised he was standing in front of. Directly in her path. But, he couldn't focus on that. At least, not now.

The woman that was standing in front of him was beautiful. Possibly the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. And she was beautiful in a way that their society didn't appreciate. She was stately, elegant. Her frame was graceful and lean. A quiet, understated beauty that radiated serenity and power. He didn't understand how just a face could prompt such a strong reaction from him. He was by no means a stranger to women, having been engaged more times than he cared to mention, and yet, not a single one he had met could compare to this one. And her eyes. In the light, he could see something flicker in them. He stepped closer, wanting nothing more than to investigate. Almost in a trance, he angled her face upwards, seeing a blue flower bloom in them. But, deeper than that, he saw something else. An intelligence and wisdom the likes of which he had never seen before. It enraptured him. He physically couldn't break away.

Which is why it was all the more jarring, when he suddenly found himself at crab-leg point ( Tansu his addled brain recalled vaguely, and much too late), being robbed, and staring dumbfounded at the woman who leaped out of the window. Her eyes had shut off, lost that brief glimpse of something that had him so affected, but he was still curious. And unhealthily so. Also, he was hopeful. He had his suspicions, and if he was right, he may have just found the answer to all of his problems. This bundle of emotions bubbling inside him almost distracted him from the pull of his energy calling him towards the window. Almost. Still, he had to figure out other matters first.

Which was why he found himself oddly and simultaneously jealous of and guilty towards Yul as he waited for the mysterious gisaeng to wake up. And why he found himself too preoccupied to hide himself from Maidservant Kim when she rounded the corner. And why he was so off-guard when she opened her mouth and said, in a voice dripping with false honey, "Young Master, could you please tell me why Young Master Seo is waiting for a gisaeng to wake up in our house, with you watching even though you're supposed to be training?"

Jang Uk visibly gulped. In all fairness, it was a good question. One that wouldn't be easy to explain. One that even he didn't know the full answer to. He glanced quickly at the two figures silhouetted by the framework. There were too many shades of grey in this equation to work out where the black ended and the white started. And, curiously enough, he didn't find himself as disturbed by it as he usually would.

Still, he couldn't exactly say that to Maidservant Kim. Not if he wanted to keep his ears intact