The Path to Credentiare (Chapter 1 Pt. 1 : A Willful Judgment)
Title: The Path to Credentiare
Characters (no specific pairings): Onew, Key, Jonghyun, Taemin, and Minho as supporting cast
Genre: Fantasy, Supernatural, Suspense
Rating: R
Summary: Onew, a Buddhist priest in training, was assigned with his last mission; to deliver a crate to a temple, miles away from his village. The long journey was soon proved to be far from safe and peaceful, when two strangers showed up and chose to tag along with him. With confusing turns and countless dead-ends, noiseless dangers and unforeseen trap, the group had to prepare themselves to learn an important lesson about friendship, trust, and sincerity.
O N E W
Burlingmill has never been a morning place to begin with. The peaceful village lies on a wide stretch of a land that comes with the name Gosplainn. It stands a mile to the west from the large spread out forest across the middle of the land called Orcknest and still a good deal of distance toward a great ruling empire on the northeast. As far as bare eyes can gaze its surroundings, the area is almost entirely enclosed with skies and grasslands, in which all of them promise a bright and forthcoming future.
With such luxury in a form of wellbeing and lasting safety, the small village has taken a liking to hide under the pelt of the first cockcrow, basking in the pleasure of the lazy lights as a way of gratitude for the people’s home. Even when the traces of dawn started to leave, giving the chance for the golden rays of sunshine to peek into every window, the place is still not completely in its full awaking state. However, if one will spare a glance to the temple just a step away from the village’s entrance, there one will see how lives have seeped into every being inside the small sanctuary.
That dawn is no different. Though what seems unusual from the daily pictures is a horse-drawn wagon that is parked on the temple’s backyard. Sitting on the footing of the carriage is a young man in dark robe, with a bronze staff resting across his chest. His sturdy posture and rough hands tell a full depiction about a high defense skill, yet soft facial features seem to turn the impression over. The man’s eyes bleak and uninviting, but the inexplicability somehow knows how to mystify the gaze which lies on it. It is wholly weird and unearthly, the way his unblemished appearance clashed with his aura that radiates coercion.
As a figure coming out from a storeroom in front of him, his eyes perk up in interest, tiny ponytail dangling feebly while he’s getting on his feet.
“Is that the item?”
A lad in tattered rags staggers to the yard, a box he takes from the storeroom is laid on his hands. “Yes, sir,” he goes to the wagon and places the wooden box -covered in messy layers of cloth in a deep color of red- into a space under the narrow seat on the back.
“How many more?”
The lad steps out from the carriage, staring oddly at the black-cloak clad man in front of him. “It’s the only one.”
Onew frowns.
That small sized crate? What is The High Priest possibly taking me for?
The black handsome stallion on his side stomps its legs and whines as the shabby young boy fixes the back a saddle. It is brown and old, the billet strap threadbare almost outworn, but it is his. His first horse saddle since The High Priest has allowed him to go riding at seven. He remembers struggling to sit still on his first mare, the picture is still fresh in his memory he can’t believe it’s been years after his own resolve.
It’s not a sheer errand this time. This charge beats any kind of meditation or heart purification -even the maddening sacred spell-casting-, no matter how those sound irksome to him few months ago this duty is still the most decisive of all. For this one is the real thing that will decide his inauguration.
The stallion makes a snorting sound when Onew’s hand reaches to smooth the shiny mane along its neck. The lad moves to fix the carriage hooks and fastens the straps on the horse sides.
“The Elder Priest wishes to have a talk with you. You are expected in the main hall the moment you’re done with your kit,” the lad says to him.
Onew walks past the boy and pats his shoulder. Sauntering toward the back garden, the horse’s whining fades off in the background at the same time with The Elder Priest standing at the gateway comes to his sight.
“Reverend Sir,” Onew approaches the priest, bowing slightly once he is in the elder’s presence. “I was on my way to the hall.”
The priest smiles kindly. His eyes narrowing into pleasant slits, evidences for life experience and wide knowledge form some wrinkling lines near his eyes. His white eyebrows speak of ages but eyes beaded in unmarked mirth. He nodded to Onew in acknowledgement. “It’s all right. I seem to be in need of fresh air too.”
“I see,” Onew mumbles, nothingness yet looming over his face. “The boy had brought the crate out.”
“Yes, I noticed.”
“Reverend Sir,” Onew starts, his voice still even, “Are you certain there is no mistake in this? The boy carried only one.”
The priest eyes him, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I imagine I had taught you to never inquire any assignment through these years. That includes questioning the wooden crate that you’ll have as your responsibility.”
Onew looks taken aback for a second, before his expression once again turns impassive. “Forgive me, Sir.”
“The local authority there has been informed to watch over your arrival. I suppose you have everything you need?”
“I believe I do. But Reverend Sir...” Onew’s voice trails off as if afraid the next statement about to fall from his lips wouldn’t be the right one to pronounce. “The former priests long before me… They’ve never… I’ve never heard about you sending any of them to such far place like Credentiare. With all due respect, Sir, why would you give an order to make me go through The Orcknest? As long as I remember, you’ve never allowed me to enter any forest without a companion, even when I’m already capable of taking care of myself. So what is the point in this? Why now? Do you have something else you’d probably like to explain to me?”
The Elder Priest hums in consideration. But rather than in distaste, the curve of his lips is forming an interested smile. “What a lot of questions. Just when I thought I had told you to stop asking,” he chuckles. “One thing you should have in mind, I don’t want you to belittle this task. The road may only spend within a week of your time, Onew. But you have to understand that it would cost more than that to call a halt to your real journey.”
“Are you suggesting that I am not capable of this? That I will not reach the east temple on time? That I don’t qualify to be a priest after all these years?” Onew insists.
The old priest laughs earnestly. He raises a hand to rest on Onew’s shoulder and grips it in a reassuring hold. “Never once I feel skeptical of your tenacity, do know that. But that tenacity, a willpower -I’m afraid, is something that often messes around with one’s mind. Judgment comes from the eyes and inner-want comes from the heart. Those two will constantly battle for control of your willpower. When the time is right, you will no longer be caught in that willpower for you’ll see clear through your judgment.”
“…what do you mean, Sir?”
“If you return within fifteen days from today, then I will know that this place is where you truly belong and all of us will welcome you like long-lost family. But if you don’t, I will assume that you’ll have finally found your way in that confused mind and we will nonetheless pray for your happiness.”
“Reverend Sir, if you’re referring to my decision, there’s no way I’m-”
A raised forefinger before Onew’s face stops him. The Elder Priest smiles and looks past his shoulder then waves a hand to a lad on the black stallion coming to them. “There’s your horse. You better get going.”
Onew looks forebodingly right into his teacher’s eyes, but the priest seems to be unaffected with his hard stare.
“I hope I will get to see you again, Onew. With or without that bronze staff of yours.”
The young man in the end decides to make his last bow to the elder before he turns back to get onto his horse.
He is going to leave Burlingmill; the only place he has known as home, and promises himself it won’t be long for his return.
Characters (no specific pairings): Onew, Key, Jonghyun, Taemin, and Minho as supporting cast
Genre: Fantasy, Supernatural, Suspense
Rating: R
Summary: Onew, a Buddhist priest in training, was assigned with his last mission; to deliver a crate to a temple, miles away from his village. The long journey was soon proved to be far from safe and peaceful, when two strangers showed up and chose to tag along with him. With confusing turns and countless dead-ends, noiseless dangers and unforeseen trap, the group had to prepare themselves to learn an important lesson about friendship, trust, and sincerity.
O N E W
Burlingmill has never been a morning place to begin with. The peaceful village lies on a wide stretch of a land that comes with the name Gosplainn. It stands a mile to the west from the large spread out forest across the middle of the land called Orcknest and still a good deal of distance toward a great ruling empire on the northeast. As far as bare eyes can gaze its surroundings, the area is almost entirely enclosed with skies and grasslands, in which all of them promise a bright and forthcoming future.
With such luxury in a form of wellbeing and lasting safety, the small village has taken a liking to hide under the pelt of the first cockcrow, basking in the pleasure of the lazy lights as a way of gratitude for the people’s home. Even when the traces of dawn started to leave, giving the chance for the golden rays of sunshine to peek into every window, the place is still not completely in its full awaking state. However, if one will spare a glance to the temple just a step away from the village’s entrance, there one will see how lives have seeped into every being inside the small sanctuary.
That dawn is no different. Though what seems unusual from the daily pictures is a horse-drawn wagon that is parked on the temple’s backyard. Sitting on the footing of the carriage is a young man in dark robe, with a bronze staff resting across his chest. His sturdy posture and rough hands tell a full depiction about a high defense skill, yet soft facial features seem to turn the impression over. The man’s eyes bleak and uninviting, but the inexplicability somehow knows how to mystify the gaze which lies on it. It is wholly weird and unearthly, the way his unblemished appearance clashed with his aura that radiates coercion.
As a figure coming out from a storeroom in front of him, his eyes perk up in interest, tiny ponytail dangling feebly while he’s getting on his feet.
“Is that the item?”
A lad in tattered rags staggers to the yard, a box he takes from the storeroom is laid on his hands. “Yes, sir,” he goes to the wagon and places the wooden box -covered in messy layers of cloth in a deep color of red- into a space under the narrow seat on the back.
“How many more?”
The lad steps out from the carriage, staring oddly at the black-cloak clad man in front of him. “It’s the only one.”
Onew frowns.
That small sized crate? What is The High Priest possibly taking me for?
The black handsome stallion on his side stomps its legs and whines as the shabby young boy fixes the back a saddle. It is brown and old, the billet strap threadbare almost outworn, but it is his. His first horse saddle since The High Priest has allowed him to go riding at seven. He remembers struggling to sit still on his first mare, the picture is still fresh in his memory he can’t believe it’s been years after his own resolve.
It’s not a sheer errand this time. This charge beats any kind of meditation or heart purification -even the maddening sacred spell-casting-, no matter how those sound irksome to him few months ago this duty is still the most decisive of all. For this one is the real thing that will decide his inauguration.
The stallion makes a snorting sound when Onew’s hand reaches to smooth the shiny mane along its neck. The lad moves to fix the carriage hooks and fastens the straps on the horse sides.
“The Elder Priest wishes to have a talk with you. You are expected in the main hall the moment you’re done with your kit,” the lad says to him.
Onew walks past the boy and pats his shoulder. Sauntering toward the back garden, the horse’s whining fades off in the background at the same time with The Elder Priest standing at the gateway comes to his sight.
“Reverend Sir,” Onew approaches the priest, bowing slightly once he is in the elder’s presence. “I was on my way to the hall.”
The priest smiles kindly. His eyes narrowing into pleasant slits, evidences for life experience and wide knowledge form some wrinkling lines near his eyes. His white eyebrows speak of ages but eyes beaded in unmarked mirth. He nodded to Onew in acknowledgement. “It’s all right. I seem to be in need of fresh air too.”
“I see,” Onew mumbles, nothingness yet looming over his face. “The boy had brought the crate out.”
“Yes, I noticed.”
“Reverend Sir,” Onew starts, his voice still even, “Are you certain there is no mistake in this? The boy carried only one.”
The priest eyes him, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I imagine I had taught you to never inquire any assignment through these years. That includes questioning the wooden crate that you’ll have as your responsibility.”
Onew looks taken aback for a second, before his expression once again turns impassive. “Forgive me, Sir.”
“The local authority there has been informed to watch over your arrival. I suppose you have everything you need?”
“I believe I do. But Reverend Sir...” Onew’s voice trails off as if afraid the next statement about to fall from his lips wouldn’t be the right one to pronounce. “The former priests long before me… They’ve never… I’ve never heard about you sending any of them to such far place like Credentiare. With all due respect, Sir, why would you give an order to make me go through The Orcknest? As long as I remember, you’ve never allowed me to enter any forest without a companion, even when I’m already capable of taking care of myself. So what is the point in this? Why now? Do you have something else you’d probably like to explain to me?”
The Elder Priest hums in consideration. But rather than in distaste, the curve of his lips is forming an interested smile. “What a lot of questions. Just when I thought I had told you to stop asking,” he chuckles. “One thing you should have in mind, I don’t want you to belittle this task. The road may only spend within a week of your time, Onew. But you have to understand that it would cost more than that to call a halt to your real journey.”
“Are you suggesting that I am not capable of this? That I will not reach the east temple on time? That I don’t qualify to be a priest after all these years?” Onew insists.
The old priest laughs earnestly. He raises a hand to rest on Onew’s shoulder and grips it in a reassuring hold. “Never once I feel skeptical of your tenacity, do know that. But that tenacity, a willpower -I’m afraid, is something that often messes around with one’s mind. Judgment comes from the eyes and inner-want comes from the heart. Those two will constantly battle for control of your willpower. When the time is right, you will no longer be caught in that willpower for you’ll see clear through your judgment.”
“…what do you mean, Sir?”
“If you return within fifteen days from today, then I will know that this place is where you truly belong and all of us will welcome you like long-lost family. But if you don’t, I will assume that you’ll have finally found your way in that confused mind and we will nonetheless pray for your happiness.”
“Reverend Sir, if you’re referring to my decision, there’s no way I’m-”
A raised forefinger before Onew’s face stops him. The Elder Priest smiles and looks past his shoulder then waves a hand to a lad on the black stallion coming to them. “There’s your horse. You better get going.”
Onew looks forebodingly right into his teacher’s eyes, but the priest seems to be unaffected with his hard stare.
“I hope I will get to see you again, Onew. With or without that bronze staff of yours.”
The young man in the end decides to make his last bow to the elder before he turns back to get onto his horse.
He is going to leave Burlingmill; the only place he has known as home, and promises himself it won’t be long for his return.