IMB/IBB 2013: And The Looking Glass Falls (3/3)
Younger now than we were before
Don't let me go, don't let me go, don't let me go
-Year 152X-
The traveler sits there, eerily still, his mind blank.
It had been too long, way too long for this, and he had known, from the very start, when he told Myungsoo about the country, about the war, what little he known about the plague, for he himself don’t have the full account of what happened, just bits and pieces, thus the journey, for he can never forgive himself if he lives on just like this.
He was a soldier, and while he never goes back to army and politics, he prided himself as one, and lives on with the policy intact in him. There was only one king for him, and still is, that he can’t settle down somewhere, not until he knows what had happened to the one person he swore his loyalty to.
He came looking for answers, despite it hurts so much to step on this land again, and he knows it will be in vain anyway, but Myungsoo told him about a certain grave digger, one with descriptions so clear it hits his nostalgia so hard he can’t breathe, and now he is here, facing the person from his past again.
“Are you okay?”
He lifts his head at that, and smiles, albeit a bit shaky, for he is so overwhelmed by everything. He exhales, deep and slow, steadying himself.
“I’m okay. I- I’m fine.”
The man doesn’t look as convinced, but he smiles wider, and it hit him.
“Before we start, though, there is something I need to clear with you.”
The grave digger nods, and signals for him to continue.
“I am- no, even at that time, I was no longer the Lord Marshall for the country.”
He can almost see himself in the man’s eyes, years ago, in dark maroon uniform.
“I was, and still is, simply a man named Jang Dongwoo.”
Looking back, he thinks, it was at this place, too, when it all happened.
It had been a clear day, and the war had lasted longer than everyone thought it will be, with landslide victory on Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun’s troops on the first day of the attack. He had admired the strategy used by the younger soldier, luring the enemy -as weird as it is to call it this considering he was still the head of the said enemy at that time- to the land before ambushing with higher number of soldiers. The plan is consistent, and brilliant if he may say so himself; utilizing the various kind of ecology on the land to their full advantage. It also helps that their army is not as highly trained, or the minister just decide to send inexperienced troops instead, clearly underestimating the power of King Lee Howon’s army.
He had analyzed it all with next to no hard feelings, despite wearing the same uniform, and actually face-palmed at one time, when a lone soldier accidentally shoots his own legs instead of the enemy. King Lee Sungjong was worse, though, for he was laughing at the failure of his own soldiers, and he swears he can see Lord Chancellor Kim Sunggyu rolling his eyes at one point.
The ministers must had feel the heat at the defeat, for they send a bigger troop the next 2 days, and he noted the difference this time around, as headlining the troop is the second squad, which trained directly under him along with the first squad. The second squad, which is higher in numbers, specializes in attacking while the first squad made up the convoy that protects the king outside of the castle.
The first squad members were all with him, in the palace at the moment, protecting the king from, ironically, their own army. He had gathered his men before, and giving them the freedom on choosing the side they want to be in, and they all stick with him and the king, to which he feels his chest welling with pride. Some even suggest they join forces with Woohyun’s troops, to which the man refused.
“I don’t want to be hold responsible if I accidentally hit your men, Lord Marshall.”
He was tempted to point out that technically, all of the army was his men, but he stops himself. Besides, it will do no good on the king’s part, for his convoy to join what the people might dub the enemy’s army.
Objectively speaking, the second squad might win the battle, for he knows their ability better than anyone, but then he never knows what trick Woohyun has in his sleeves, and if King Lee Howon really intended for the war to happen then why-
His whirling thought came to a screeching halt when he saw the formation of Woohyun’s troops that fateful day, for the man has brought out the cannon, situated at the middle of the main road, straight on their vision.
The mouth is heading towards the palace, instead of the upcoming troop.
They were at the end of the long, long hallway, on the East side while King Lee Howon and Lord Chancellor Kim Sunggyu were at the other end, eyes never leaving the outside. He watches the bewildered look on his men mirroring his own, and King Lee Sungjong is still; face hard.
“Dongwoo,” he calls, and his attention turns to his king.
He watches how the monarch’s eyes never leave Woohyun.
“Say that you will be loyal to me.”
There is chaos behind him, but Woohyun stays still, eyes fixed on the palace.
“And never disobey me, despite anything, anything at all.”
L stands a few feet behind his superior officer, never once turning back.
“Yes, I will, Your Highness.”
He bows deeply, going down on a knee, and his men follow suits behind.
“You are my king, now, and always.”
The king nods, and signals for him to rise, to which he did.
“Then watch, Dongwoo; watch, and never forget this.”
He darts his eyes back outside just in time to see Woohyun giving a salute in the direction of the king. From the corner of his eye can see King Lee Howon nodding once, firm, while Lord Chancellor Kim Sunggyu returning the salute and steps forward, breaking a mirror with a chair from the royal office.
He realizes it as the sign, and Woohyun lights up the cannon.
The sound was so loud it echoes, and reflexively his body pulls King Lee Sungjong away, past the door as the whole palace shakes violently beneath his feet. His ears were ringing and he can barely hear anything but he was shouting, giving orders to his men to take the king away. Still, the last thing he remembers before he fled the scene was clear, so vivid in his mind as if everything moves in a slow-motion.
There were mirrors, pieces of glasses floating from the impact, filling the whole area.
And then there was King Lee Howon, in the midst of the reflected lights.
The man stands tall, and firm, befitting of a ruler of a country.
Softly, the monarch smiles at him.
A hand grabs his just when he was about to shout -what, he didn’t know- pulling him away as the floor starts to crumble. He runs, to where his king was, evading the falling pillars and just run, run, and run.
He still does, running, for he never stops searching for the whereabouts of the king, who returns to his country only to face rebellion by the people, and another long war erupted to overthrow the palace’s authority. On the surface, it was as if the plague sweeping the country, with death looming on people’s heads, though Dongwoo knows better, for he had always been near, almost at the border, but he never enters, not even when news spread far and wide, that the palace had fallen, and the main city has since been nothing but ruins.
Still, he keeps his oath and promise.
Now, years later, people can hardly remember the cause, and the incident has all but forgotten. But there is a legend that circulates among people, how there was a fearless young king, who when faced by pitchforks, simply sits on his throne, and welcomes them.
He sits firm, befitting of a ruler of a country, when everyone has long fled away.
He will then be reminded by thousand of glasses, and the red of fire.
Yet all he can see is the dark in the king’s eyes.
*******
Oh boy you ought to leave this town
Get out while you can
-Year 150X-
It is like everything had come to a still.
Sungjong watches, from his position at the bottom of the hill, as the palace crumbles, the top half falls into the arms of gravity. Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun had call for a surrender of his troops, and he almost scoffed at the bewildered look on the second squad’s captain. He glances at his men, and saw that some of them is injured, and proceeds to call for medical aid when Dongwoo approaches him, immediately bowing deep for putting him in danger. He is about to simply dismiss the man when he saw blood trailing the side of the face.
Upon mentioned though, the Lord Marshall simply waves it off, saying things like he is okay, this is just a scratch and whatnot, ready to resumes his duty and escort the him back.
Something pricks inside him and curls in his stomach, when he watches as the assistant Marshall, L, shouting orders, the soldiers bringing out loads of firewood and firecrackers. It was too much of an amount it’s almost amazing, as if they are bringing down the whole city.
The realization makes him sick, and he almost cannot register the other Lord Marshall approaching, and bows politely. The knot in his stomach unravels and burns, as he takes in the soldier’s face, devoid of any emotion; every movement precise and sharp, as if programmed to reach one goal, which he is currently explaining to him but he don’t find it in him to actually listen and he almost screams when the weight of King Lee Howon’s apology sinks in.
The monarch is a cruel king; how could he, making his own Lord Marshall destroy his own country, knowing the man is so loyal, he will never say no? What about the Chancellor, who stays with him until the very end? What about his own men, who is injured, and he himself, the king of a neighboring country, and Dongwoo-
Ah, he thinks. This is exactly why he apologized in advance; he knew Sungjong will hate this. He knew, that he is being selfish, taking everything in his own hands, and crushes it till there’s nothing but dust left.
He watches as the man, the soldier, bows, and turns around, adjusting the kepi on his head, and -as quotes-, proceed as planned. The convoy and the whole troops walk on the battered city, and the grave look on most of the soldier’s faces; be it the first squad or the second, is not a shocking scene, he thinks.
They must have realized it, that they were all playing in King Lee Howon’s hands, dancing to the monarch’s tune, all the way till the curtain fall. There is no way they can admit it to the minister’s, and scarred their already bruised pride, so as predicted, they will take the blame, and cleaning it off the fallen king’s hands. King Lee Howon might lose his country, but he will forever wins in the eyes of his people.
And Lee Sungjong; he, too, is a king. He has a pride as royalty, and the thought of been played the same by the ministers makes him want to vomit. He stops just a couple of footsteps before they reach the main fleet, and he turns. Behind him, the whole city is set on fire, painted red.
He thinks of his people, his palace, his men, and laughs, for he just got an idea, a brilliant one at that, to settle all of his problems. He thinks of the Chancellor, and can imagine the man rolling his eyes if he ever knew this.
He and King Lee Howon really get along well, too well, perhaps.
He faces Dongwoo, and steels himself.
“Lord Marshall Jang Dongwoo, this is an order.”
Immediately after, the man bows deep, ready to receive it.
Never will he see this coming, though.
“From now on, you are no longer the Lord Marshall of the country.”
There is a collective gasp behind him, but trust the man to remain still.
“And you are not to return to the country for the next 5 years at the very least.”
As expected of a Lord Marshall, the man doesn’t lose to Woohyun at all.
“Shall you ever do, I will convict you of treason.”
The silence roaring in his ears, and he can see nothing but the fire.
“Will you obey me, and fulfill your oath, Jang Dongwoo?”
The sky is almost setting, and dusk paints everything a darker shade of red.
“Yes, I will, Your Highness.”
The man rises, face hard, eyes unreadable.
Still, there is no ounce of hesitation in his voice.
“You are my king, now, and always.”
He nods, firm, and turns to leave, bearing the weight of Dongwoo’s stare on his back.
He never looks back, for he is the king of a country.
*******
To the door of mystery and dignity
I'm wandering down, and searching down the secret sun
-Year 152X-
Myungsoo stops himself mid-talk, and breathes.
He knows who this man is, had heard about him so much from the traveler, and if what the old journal told him is nothing but the truth, then words is overrated. He tries not to wince at the piercing stare directed straight at him, and reaches for the backpack instead, rummaging through it before he pulls out a small bundle of brown cloth. Carefully, he holds the bundle, as if it will break, and slowly opens it, to reveal a black kepi of a certain royal messenger.
He can hear the man’s breathe hitch at the sight, eyes wide.
“My name is Kim Myungsoo,” he starts, eyes still on the kepi.
The man nods, and he continues.
“I came from a country far away, not from this region.”
He lifts his head, eyes firm on the other.
“I came to hear the truth about the war, as promised to the owner of this headdress.”
The man is gripping his knees so hard it turns white, and he is taken back to when he received the backpack and all its content, when he leave the town soon after, never looking back. He never returned either, not even once during his whole long, never-ending trip.
The man turns, and reaches for his own kepi, kept polished and clean even after all these years, and holds it in his lap. There is a sigh escaping the lips, and a smile, so small, it’s almost bitter on the handsome face.
“How did you found your way here?”
Myungsoo rubs the back of his neck, didn’t expecting that, and smiles sheepishly.
“By luck, I guess?”
The man looks at him as if he is stupid and laughs, so hard, that he can’t help but laugh along. When they both get to calm the heck down, the air around them is more relaxed, and the man is not as stiff, to his relief.
Still, the almost bitter smile makes its way onto the face.
“I don’t know the whole story either, but if it helps, I will tell you everything I knew.”
He nods, and watches as the man breathes in, eyes closed, pain visible on his face.
“My name is Nam Woohyun,” he starts.
There is conviction in his voice, and determination in his eyes.
“I was, and still am, King Lee Howon’s Lord Marshall, until the day I die.”
Woohyun is sure of that, always does, even from way back then.
Back when he first receives the order to tear down his king’s own palace.
It had been an order, simply because King Lee Howon intends for it to be; no discussions, no round tables, no opinions, nothing. The monarch was being selfish, and actually takes the late king’s ways to apply as his own, to Lord Chancellor Kim Sunggyu’s extreme irritation.
The king had simply summoned him, and gives the order, as if he was just discussing the weather, as if he didn’t just tasked Woohyun with the biggest order he ever received along these years he held the post.
He caught Sunggyu’s eyes, and there was something about the way it gleams that tells him to refuse, but he is the Lord Marshall, and there is definitely not a day he will refuse the king.
So he accepts, firmly, from firing the cannon at the middle part of the Hall of Mirrors, to burn down the whole city. Howon had reasons that the burning is to kill the plague, and to revive the soil for the next generations; he had thought of simply not letting any building stand taller than the palace. He can’t bear the guilt, had it not been that way, and it goes along with the king’s plan anyway, so all’s good.
Or so he thought, until the king unveils the last of his plan.
“Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun, this is an order.”
There was something about the tone that twists in him, and his fingers shake a bit.
“Your last order, in fact.”
His heart drops at that, deep, as if it sunk under the iron sea.
“Once everything has turned to ashes, take your troops with you, and leave.”
His ear was ringing and his throat parched, but he remained still.
“There is no need for a soldier in a dead country.”
He wanted to ask what about you, and Sunggyu, but he swallowed the words, hard.
Instead, he steeled himself.
“Yes, I understand, Your Highness.”
He excused himself, and closed the door of the royal office, so quiet there was no sound. He kept on walking, and walking, without any destination until his legs gave out on him and yet he felt nothing but a dull ache in his chest.
After a few moment passed, he rises, and made his way to the nearby fountain, washing his face. He actually end up dumping his whole head into the water, and when he emerged, there was no trace of tear left, and he felt so numb, it’s almost refreshing. L showed up with a towel later -how the younger just shows up everywhere is beyond him- and he thanked him with a smile before retired for the night.
The next day he was back to normal, almost too normal that Sunggyu narrowed his small eyes at him, and proceeded to whack his head with a rolled document, to which L thanked the Chancellor immensely, hiding his own thick rolled document behind his back.
The whole troop had heard of the order, and many were worried about him, to which he simply smiled and put his best foot forward. He had said it to the Chancellor, to the assistant Marshall, and the whole entirety of his men, and he firmly believes it.
He is the Lord Marshall of the country, and there was no greater pride he can ask for.
So he salutes to the king, to the palace, for one last time, and lights the cannon.
He stood there, eerily still, as the cannon breaks through the Hall of Mirrors; teeth clenched, and never, not even once, averted his eyes. He records it all in his mind, the pierced, broken glasses, the collapsed top floor, all the way until it bows to gravity. Later, he burned everything down with vengeance, painting the whole city a dark shade of red, and tried his hardest to not look at the palace.
He gathered the men and retired early that night, camping at the open area, on what may be their last night on their own country. He had invited Dongwoo along, after the man collapsed due to injury and nobody said anything about how the Lord Marshall, too, was left behind by the king.
The next day they split into 2 groups; one led by Woohyun will leave via the lone army fleet they manage to secure, while another led by L through the forest route. As he prepares to announce one last order to his men, Howon’s words before he leave for the attack resounds in him. The monarch will never know, but he had gotten chill down his spine at that, for it was the exact same words as the one he heard years ago, on the late king’s deathbed.
“Live, Woohyun, and this country shall live on.”
He mustered his courage, and repeats it, to an echoing reply from the entirety of his troop, and with one last salute, dismissed the army. He had intended to march on, and steel himself like always, but as the fleet leaves the land, he can’t help but turn around, even once, and a rush of feelings swept over him, for he can see the palace in its glory, standing tall before his blurry eyes.
He saluted, firm and final, and let his tears flow.
After that, he had walked everywhere across the region, parting ways with Dongwoo and most of the men at various stops across the region and proceeded to see the world, until he arrived at the small village under the extended territory of King Kim Jongwan a couple of years prior, and settled down.
He had heard of people returning back to the country, and a part of him was dying to make the walk back, but the guilt never really eased from his heart, despite all these years, that he buried the thought back to the deepest part of his mind.
If there’s one thing that Woohyun regrets the most, is that he never get to ask what the monarch really planned to do after his own home gone, but he was assured nonetheless, for Sunggyu is there. The monarch had planned for the elder to follow the troop, but the Chancellor, with the most display of determination he had ever seen from the man, went down on a knee, and humbly asked to stay, to which Howon accepts.
It’s understandable, he thinks, for Sunggyu had been near the palace for almost the entirety of his life; and if there’s one person that can totally understand the decision wholeheartedly and perfectly, it will be the Lord Chancellor.
Myungsoo nods at that, and leans on the chair, before handing Woohyun the old journal, and he watches as a mixture of emotions runs across the man’s face with each page. He decides to take his chances, and told the story on how he met Dongwoo -you really need to be careful, Myungsoo; Woohyun had said with a frown- and the grave digger, who managed to erupt a reaction from the former soldier, much like Dongwoo did.
The Marshall had been so quiet after, deep in thought, and excuses himself to the room before returning with a black dress uniform and proceeds to remove the badge pinned on the left breast pocket.
He hands it to Myungsoo, who is still too shell-shocked at the action, and smiles.
“If you ever return to that country, and meet the man once more, please, give this to him, as proof that the Lord Marshall has lived on, even after all these years.”
He accepts it carefully, and puts it in the same bundle as Sungyeol’s kepi.
“Please, tell him to live on, too, and be happy.”
He nods, recording the memory of the moment in his heart.
Later when he starts to walk again, he catches Woohyun staring at him, and he tilts his head just so, to the elder’s laughter.
“When you return back to your homeland, tell Sungyeol I’m sorry.”
He grits his teeth at that, for there is nothing to be sorry about, but nods regardless.
“And make sure you tell him everything. Nobody deserves it more than him.”
He clutches the backpack like a lifeline, and bows. Along the way he was reminded by how Sungyeol always, always have a deep admiration for the Lord Marshall, and he is glad, extremely so, that he is able to meet the man.
So much, it actually hurts.
*******
Even when I try to get out of the sorrow-turned-house, on the threshold I cry
Without realizing I cry
-Year 150X-
Howon opens his eyes to see a bird flying, so close in fact, that he might just be able to lift his arm and touch its wing. Except that he can’t, for both his arms, or rather, the whole of his body are paralyzed, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before panic sinks in.
A soft gasp reached his ear, and he blinks slowly again to see one the maids at the palace peering up at him, hands at the mouth, before scurrying away. He is almost ready to write it off as hallucination or something when strong arms lift him up, freeing him from whatever that holds him down, and another hand shoves a tumbler of water to his lips, which he accepts gratefully.
After another 5 seconds he regains his senses and almost choke out on air, for sitting by him is the palace’s gardener and maid, the cooks at the end of his peripheral vision, the guard clearing the rubble, and standing amidst of everything is Lord Chancellor Kim Sunggyu, who visibly lightens up at the sight of him.
He is struggling to actually say something, anything really, and his brain is still muddled, that he can barely make out the reality of it all. A part of him is relieved while the other berates himself for he is sure he had included the palace’s workers in the list of people moved, but then Woohyun must have hold the list, and he catches himself looking for the Lord Marshall when flashes of the soldier saluting the palace drifts in his mind, and he stops thinking altogether.
Later, when he is fully awake and well, he learns from Sunggyu that the people had actually pledge to stay instead, for they; like both Howon and Sunggyu, doesn’t have any other place to go, nor do they have family to come back to, so they made a deal with Woohyun to let them be, and the Marshall had actually made a passing remark before, something like a list had gone missing, but Howon was too preoccupied to take it seriously.
Looking back, there is no way the Marshall will make such mistake, for the man prided himself of being a perfectionist in his duty, and the incident makes him wonder, if there are actually more things he missed, in the midst of everything.
He had asked the Chancellor, in which he flicks the man on the forehead as response.
“Rather than worry about the people that have gone, care for the one’s here.”
He smiles at that, and starts to help building up the place, for miraculously, only the top floor collapsed albeit being hit by the strong cannon, leaving the lower floor intact for them to use as shelter. True to his word, Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun had burnt everything down, that there is nothing left but ashes, and wide areas of land that was used to be the city.
In preparation for the inevitable, Howon had taken to experiment extensively, burning the land by the castle to see the effect the plague can bring to it months prior, and even when the rate of harvest decreases drastically the plot of land actually manage to survive, and until now, continue to be their sole source of food. The people had taken to go down and work the land, in order to help increase the sources; regardless of profession, be it the maids, the guards, the gardeners, the royalty and even the Chancellor.
The whole time, Howon refers himself as Hoya, and Sunggyu actually frowns so bad when people called him Lord Chancellor, that it’s almost inevitable, really, that no one use polite speeches when they talk to both of them. In fact, they are convinced that the plague had long gone after a year passed, as they live in harmony at the hill, like a small village at an inconspicuous place.
Howon- Hoya had been happy, so much; he works hard every day with a smile on his face, that it’s almost cruel how it was taken away from him.
It starts when they are nearing the 2-year mark, as for the first time a death happen in the small-knit community. The gardener had came down with a fever, and everyone had taken to care for the elder, as everyone had been so close like a family, but no matter what they do the man never seemed to get better, and he succumbed to the illness a week after.
Hoya was shaken, to say the least, but he and Sunggyu stays strong, and prepares the funeral the best way they can; as a tombstone find its way next to the late king’s.
Next was the kind cook, who came down with the same illness not too soon after, and Sunggyu starts suspecting a possible poisonous plant mixed in theirs, but it was too late; by the time they figure out the cause the community has already been cut down to half, and slowly, the remaining people starts moving out, in fear of epidemic.
Eventually, they are the only two people left, and the hill is almost covered by tombstones; for Hoya and Sunggyu had taken the liberty to make one for each of the people that had died, be it on the land or anywhere they were. They care for the graves, and still, despite everything, try to improve their conditions, until the fateful day that one of them falls asleep, and remains so.
The remaining man handles the funeral himself; having been too accustomed with the job by then, and create the best tombstone for the person, right on the other side of the late king’s.
Years passed and the palace had tore down completely, with only a small part of what was used to be the lower floor of the royal office remains. The lone man used it and redecorates as a simple shack, and never, not even once, steps out of the land. For the man had hurt deeply, only continue living because of the promise he made with the people in the past, and always, always alone.
Until the very few remaining survivors who fled the place during the war gathered and returned, with plans to re-build back their hometown. He had been shocked, of course, for it has been long, way too long for this, but a voice whispers in his ear and he almost can taste his tears, which had dried and died with the last funeral he held.
And there they stood, watching as a he coming out of the shack. Looking out at the people, and smiling at them as he walks slowly, yet surely down the path of the hill, is the man later known as the grave digger.
*******
Take me back to the land
Where my yearnings were born
-Year 152X-
The second time a certain traveler by the name of Kim Myungsoo arrives at the place is almost 2, or is it 3 years since the first time he did. The place had grown rapidly in such a short period of time, with the main road become so busy and bustling with energy, loud voices of sellers calling out for bargain. Despite the heat, which sends trickle of sweat down his neck, the people are all smiles when he arrives, and he is glad to see that there are still things that didn’t change along with the modernization of the town.
If anything, maybe, he, too, didn’t change as much as he thought he did, for the owner of the inn he stayed before actually remembers his face -you were one of the first travelers that came and stay, after all; the man had said, while patting his back- and the kid that accompany him up the hill last time had grown considerably well into his teens, yet still owns the same bright smile, to which he is grateful for.
The people remember him mostly as the first traveler who went up the hill, and apparently there was another man who went up not long after he did, and he can guess that it was Dongwoo, if only by the simple descriptions of the man’s face.
He retires for the night after a long talk to catch up on things, and when he expresses his desire to visit the grave digger again, the owner had a genuine smile on his face, and highly encourages him to do so.
“The grave digger is a very nice person, mister traveler.”
The man puts down the cleaned glass, and smiles wistfully.
“We are very, very glad, to have him as part of our growing city.”
As he lies down and stares at the ceiling, the words of the owner keep repeating in his head, and he clutches his backpack tighter than he should, for this is finally it.
The next day, he takes the opportunity to climb the hill, in order to meet the grave digger once more. He walks steadily and calmly, as opposed to the first time he walked down this very road to the path up the hill, Nothing changed at all at the hill, that he is hit by waves of déjà vu with each step he take.
Still, nothing beats the feeling of nostalgia when he reaches the top.
Standing with a shovel amidst the greenery is the grave digger, who smiles as he walks closer. He can almost see the exact same scene unfolding before his eyes; the kid had let go of his hand, running towards the man with a smile as brilliant as the sun, and he watched as the grave digger shakes his head softly with a kind smile when the kid apologized, a hand patting the kid’s head softly.
He smiles at the memory, and with a newfound courage, walks on to greet the man.
“It’s been a while, sir.”
The man shakes his head at that, saying things like sir is too grand a title for him. But he simply smiles, and carefully, takes out the same bundle of brown clothes that was once shown to a certain Nam Woohyun before, and places it on the man’s hand. Myungsoo can never describe the look on the man’s face when the bundle unravels, fingers shaking softly.
He had taken the liberty to keep the black kepi and badge polished and cleaned once a week, for he knew there is no replacing them. It is a treasure, to the owner, and to the one that still remembers.
“I had met a man that was once called Lord Marshall Jang Dongwoo, at the ruin that was once the main city of the neighboring country and he detailed me on the war, as per my request.”
The grave digger remains silent, and he takes it as the cue to continue.
“Later on, I had the chance of meeting Lord Marshall Nam Woohyun, who requested of me to return the badge to you as proof that he had lived on, and to convey this to you; tell him to live on, too, and be happy.”
He hands the old journal, and his journals, watching as the man clutches them tightly.
“Though the reason I had walked on all these years, is on behalf of a squire and royal messenger by the name of Lee Sungyeol, from whom I receive this backpack, and an old journal with details on the country this land once a part of.”
The wind blows softly around them, like a comforting hand.
“I am here, before you, to fulfill a man’s final wish.”
He imagined Sungyeol in his mind, and he bowed deeply to the man, a knee on the ground, and reaches from a hidden compartment in the backpack a small, black long tube, the country’s insignia adorning the outer case.
Sungyeol had hold on to the country’s seal when he went to work at King Kim Jongwan’s palace, as a representative to sign the agreement when the citizens move over to the said country.
“For the person had walked his entire life, just to return this to its rightful owner.”
He had known, for there is a sketch in the same hidden compartment, of a man patting a kid’s head, with only a simple note of identity. Perhaps it is fate, for the sight of the grave digger years ago had stayed with him for a long, long time indeed, vivid in his mind, all he does is simply put two and two together.
“Please, accept these, as symbol of these men’s undying loyalty to you.”
There is no mistaking this.
“Your Highness.”
*******
And now it's clear as this promise
That we're making two reflections into one
-Year 153X-
The wind blows softly, and the cool feels refreshing on his skin.
Myungsoo walks on the road, clutching the backpack tighter on his shoulder as he nears the bend to the entry of the village. It had been too long, but for some reason he never gets lost in returning back here, as if he had always knew where to go and turn.
The village had grown immensely he almost never recognize it, and the spot where the old antique shop and bakery situated in his memory has since been replaced by a diner. He skims through the faces and gets lost in nameless strangers, and proceeds to just continue walking.
He almost cried out in relief when the familiar cottage appears before his sight, old, and abandoned, but still there, and for him, that is all that matters, really. He walks on pass the house and turns at another bend to find Sungyeol’s new home, one the traveler moved right before he starts his journey, long, long years ago.
He puts down the backpack, and taking out the journals filled with notes, and smiles softly, hand rubbing the cold tombstone.
“I’m back, Sungyeol-hyung. I met them all; like I said I would, and-”
The wind blows, softly, gently on his cheek.
Later, when the sun is about to set and Myungsoo stands up to leave, he catches the grave digger staring at him. Politely, he smiles, when the old man speaks.
“You look different, somehow.”
He tilts his head at that, utterly confused.
“Didn’t you come and visit last week? I thought you looked a bit older though.”
He is just about to deny it when a thought strikes him.
“Are you sure it was me, mister?”
His heart pounds softly in his chest.
“Yes, of course, nobody else come and visit that grave, you see.”
The old man starts to walk away and he stands there, still. On the tip of his tongue is a name he always heard and knew so well along the course of the trip, yet he swallows it all in, and simply smile softly at the direction of the grave.
“They, too, had been walking for you, Sungyeol-hyung.”
Someplace an ocean away, Hoya puts a black kepi on a tombstone, next to Sunggyu’s.
*******
There was an old grave digger living on a shack beside the cemetery on the hill. No one knew his name, or how old he was, but he had been there from the start, they say; back when the town was nothing but remnants of the last war, which ends when a great fire burns everything down until nothing was left behind but ashes.
The man was well-known among the townspeople, for he kept to himself a lot, yet always, always so kind, and handles the funerals with utmost respect, regardless of the status and identity of the death.
The grave digger had made a routine of going down to the town every weekend, simply to greet the people and help around and the people had been so used to it, that when the man didn’t show up one weekend, many grew to worry about him. In the wake of that, the grocer kid, who had since taking over the business, went up the hill that day, and alerted the doctor when he caught the grave digger lying on the ground, motionless amidst the greenery beside his shack.
The passing of the grave digger brought a somber mood to the whole town, and the people also decided to leave the shack and all the stuff inside be, in respect to the man. But, if there is one thing that the townspeople kept as secret among themselves, it is about the pair of black kepi as well as the overcoat that was used by the royal officers in the past, carefully folded and kept on the low table beside the bed.
Beside the headdresses was a case that contains a royal seal and a sketch of a man and a kid placed beside the seal, with a simple note that said Your Highness under the picture. Nobody mentioned how the man in the sketch looked exactly like the grave digger, simply because no one feels the need to.
It is not their place to say anything.
It is a story reflected in the looking glass.
That falls somewhere in the crack of time.
It is fleeting away.
*******
'Cause it's like you're my mirror
My mirror staring back at me
Staring back at me