Far East: Family Part One [4/?]
Title: Far East: Family [1/2]
Characters: Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Kris, Lay, D.O, (from EXO), OCs
Length: 3,000~
Summary: Archimedes and Alfred Greene accompany High Prince Chanyeol’s troops into to the Himalayas in a mission to eliminate a terrorist group forming in the mountains. They are accompanied by Chinese Imperial Forces and a traitor.
Genre: Fantasy, Action, Adventure
Note: This part of the Far East series. Which can be read in release order OR chronological order
Father arrived two days prior to leaving for the Himalayas. It was for an article. Or series of articles. It was for total coverage of this mission to destroy a terrorist group which had apparently attacked the Imperial City in China and had retreated into the mountains. Walter insisted, despite how I refused. My reasons being firstly, the High Emperor was foolish enough to lead his troops and furthermore his son and his new prince into enemy territory and second, that this was a mission arranged by the High Prince who I assume is quite fed up with my presence.
Furthermore, China men and Korean men alike dislike English foreigners. So, we were ignored.
Early in the journey, father began to complain about his back and I found myself losing interest. I was a bad son, but I couldn’t find or force myself to be interested. Concerns of the back were no concerns to me, especially that of those caused by Korean straw bedding. We were travelling through valleys and mountain ranges that were scenes of great beauty but it was all so unenjoyable because of the complaints from the old man.
You could have written to me, he said, when we dismounted for rest.
I can say the same to you.
Why, Jane even tells me you don’t send her anything. Nothing at all. She received nothing and so naturally, I worried and here I am. Father and son - on an adventure!
This isn’t an adventure. This is work.
But what about Jane, Alfie? What about-
Please don’t call me that, I said taking a sip of my water, which was running scarce. The China men and the Korean men shared their wine and their water but we were outside of that circle.
Well can you please explain to me why you don’t write to Jane?
I couldn’t tell him that I had written to her every single week.
You should just return to England. You are serving no purpose here! There are other writing jobs in England, where it is clean and no body stares at you as if they want to muder you. Take the airship back with me. It’s only a matter of time before she forgets about you and-
Jane won’t forget about me.
But she’s depressed! She was moping about and muttering to herself about how you may have a mistress and…
I had learnt to tune his voice out years ago. Perhaps Jane was not receiving my letters. Perhaps that was why her responses were in print and not in writing. Frauds. Someone has been intercepting my letters.
…and don’t get me started on the plumbing! He continued, as the old man does as we mounted our horses and trailed behind the party. You would think that the most powerful empire in the Far East would have indoor plumbing! Why these people are savages! Look at them as there stare at each other in detest! Their fellow countrymen!
We are not countrymen, a deep voice clear like crystal, with the slightest hint of a growl came from a young man at the old crone’s side. He had an accent like a New Englishman or American, blended with a hint of French.
Father blushed. I hadn’t seen that since aunt Isabelle introduced him to Lady Wicken who told him he was dashing.
Then I suppose that this hate stems from inter-racial differences? I asked, in attempt to recover some of our dignity.
It’s more inter-cultural and political as appose to racial differences, the young man replied. But don’t worry. Not everyone hates Englishmen, we just don’t like reporters. They tell lies, he said, meeting my eye and then looking down a moment with eyes that pierced the ground. Sometimes, he added.
Well, father huffed, assuming that gentlemanly manner required of him, it’s nice to meet such a well-mannered chap such as yourself. Forgive me for any indecencies. Archimedes Greene, at your service.
And I’m-
Alfred Greene, the young Eastern man finished as if a silent warning. My name is Wu Yifan but you may call me Kris.
I believe you were referred to as Kevin earlier, the old crone observed, rather rudely and obliviously.
The young man laughed. Kevin is reserved for my closest friends. Kris, would be fine for the Greenes for now. Perhaps in future I may permit you.
Your accent? I began before the old man. Where is it from?
From a colony just off New England. It’s French inhabited, mostly. I lived there until I was ten and unfortunately, the accent reveals itself when I speak English.
Where did you study? The old man snapped before me.
I didn’t.
Who are you with? I asked, almost too forcibly but Kris ignored it.
I’m on the Chinese side, he said, but I have nothing against Koreans. I occupy the position of translator, mediator and spokesman.
Yet you dress in fine armour.
He smiled a friendly smile to father. A mission is still a mission. You two should be fitted.
I thought armour was unnecessary and heavy and far too expensive. Kris’ armour looked much lighter than the metal layering like plates of a dragon’s skin like all the other Eastern men in his company. His armour was primarily constructed with leather. Fine and tough leather. Aside from that, he appeared to be dressed in skin with scales - not the metal fashioned like scales but the sort that comes from a Basilisk snake, if they exist.
Kris is handsome, I remember father saying a day or two later after the young Chinaman left us with ale, which everyone drank. We were stationed at the ridges of a gorge. Below us a ravine. Above us, snowing sky and hazy mountain peaks. Too handsome to be here.
Handsome people can be soldiers too.
I believe you’re right on that, Alfie. That general’s son has some delicacy to his face also.
He was referring to, of course, Zhang Yixing. I had heard rumours about him from all corners of Korea. He was believed to be a master archer, a decent swordsman, a wide reader and engaged but most curiously, he is believed to have drank the blood of a unicorn, who he believed to be a common horse, when he was lost in the mountain ranges along the Hwang He river. The blood of the unicorn gave his body regenerating abilities, or so they say. Of course, there has never been any proof of that. Zhang Yixing scars like every man.
They seem very close, Archimedes observed. Don’t believe they’re degenerate, are they?
He was observing Zhang and Wu from where they dismounted and their horses and gave each other playful elbows as they chose careful steps up the cliff face.
They will skin you and hang you on a tree if any of these men understood what you were saying.
But look at how they look at each other!
Perhaps they are friends. Life long.
Perhaps but isn’t degeneration part of the culture in this country? The prince married a man has he not? The princes-
I was growing tired of this old man. He ought to have stayed in Korea. Another month and a half in his company I may have to fall to my death to avoid him forevermore. But I can’t be so selfish. My poor Jane will have to deal with him afterwards.
Speak and understand English fluently, I interrupted. The High Prince Chanyeol had brought Prince Kyungsoo with him, for purposes unknown to me. You ought to watch your tongue, old man.
You ought to watch your tongue! I am your father, Alfred.
That’s just a title.
It’s a title that has respect and-
Well, if you need to remind me of the respect due, then the title is null of that, now, isn’t it?
Well that’s just-
Go home, father. You don’t understand anything here. You might die and I am tired of you, I told him, rather blunting, pulling the reigns of my horse.
As he dismounted also, he was glaring at me and turning red the way father’s do when they feel disrespected and still consider their twenty-seven year old son as if they were six and not as equal adults. Now listen here, Alfred, your mother-
Please don’t talk about my mother.
Why can I not speak of-
No, I said without a temper. I was quite bored of him already. I had expected nothing more of him. You don’t have the right.
You are still upset with me?
Not upset, I say, pulling my horse after the last soldier who edged their way carefully along the narrow ridge. I am just telling you that you have no right-
She was my wife! His voice bounced off the ridges of the ravine.
She was your wife. She is my mother.
Was your mother, son.
Is my mother, I repeat. One only has one mother.
Am I why you are so obsessed with the East? Do you need to understand why
I fell in love with an Eastern woman? Well the answer is not in the East, son! Is that why you are here?
Don’t be so self-obsessed, Archimedes.
Why disrespectful-
There was something suddenly fast whizzing past my ear that the air whispered as something sharp and shinning glinted in front of the face of the man I called father. The moment passed and there was a snap and sound of steel bouncing off a cliff face and then the cry of an elderly Englishman as the metal struck his cheek.
Suddenly, swords were drawn and balances momentarily lost.
Standing atop a ridge after a climb from the path which I currently stood, was Zhang Yixing, reloading a bow with a red arrow. Between mine and father’s feet were two arrows; one brown feathered and cleanly snapped in two. The second, a red arrow which had struck the first. My father’s face had only but a light gash on his cheekbone where the rebounded arrow head struck.
Orders were shouted.
Men and horses climbed to Zhang Yixing’s post whilst arrows were fired and received.
The men we sought found us before we found them.
I found myself hiding behind weapons cart, armourless.
Greene.
Your Majesty?
Load and light these, High Prince Chanyeol instructed, throwing arrows with heads wrapped in cloth and two flint stones, whilst dragging an uninjured father to my side. He was without armour, without clothing even on the top half of his body. I assumed he must have been sleeping in his travel-cart.
My father was dumb in his presence because even now, half asleep, the High Prince assumed a sort of radiance that came with him everywhere. He prepared a strange sort of cross-bow, far more advanced than anything in England and strapped it - for it seemed to be the sort that could be fired with only one hand - to his lower left arm before barking orders in Korean behind him. Soldiers assumed around him as I attempted to light his arrows.
After two attempts I finally lit the first arrow and handed it him. He loaded it unto his cross-bow and fired. Shortly after there was sound like thunder.
You are very slow, he commented, shoulders slumping as he watched me attempt to light the second.
This is not my forte, I replied.
Neither are manners, he added before bowing to Archimedes. Never mind the arrows, Greene. Find Zhang Yixing and tell him their numbers are only a hundred, maximum. Afterwards, find Kevin Wu and inform him that I will be perhaps initiate a frontal, direct attack. I will shoot over if all is well, in eleven echoes. He should not be far from Zhang.
[Note Bene: An echo is a unit of time - an unofficial unit - which is approximately the time taken for an echo of a particular phrase, chosen by those who it would pertain to, in completion of three repetitions. In my experience, this unit of time is approximately five seconds. With this in mind, it should be noted that Park was planning his daring frontal attack and performing it in less than a minute’s time.]
You want me to go out there?
He sighed. I can’t ask your father to go.
Well what about-
I have to find Kyungsoo. His eyes - which always spoke more than his words - told me that he was concerned. Genuinely. His duty of care took importance. He is my family now. He is important.
He turned about, expertly confirming his surroundings before leaping away.
The old man, chest heaving, looked to me, mouth agape; words about to spill out. I ignored him - or pretended to - before leaping from the cover of the cart across fairly clear airspace. It seemed for a fraction, the battle stopped to let me through and for that I was thankful. I ran far and fast, turning my head this way and that to spot Wu loading an arrow in the cover of a large stone. Behind was Zhang Yixing, doing the same but a shield strapped to his left arm and he used it against the enemy fire. He was for more mobile than Wu.
I called to him. At first he did not hear me.
I called him again.
He lifted his head as he finished loading his bow.
Then Zhang Yixing received an arrow to the neck; his balance tipped in consequence so that he fell into the air, disappearing over the edge.
Perhaps something about my expression - which I think, must have been so blank; so surprised - warned Kris to turn around. And thus he finds Zhang not there.
Kris leapt to the edge.
He leans his head over the rock, bow dismissed to the ground.
Then he screams, practically hollers, down into the ravine bellow in indecipherable Chinese.
The arrows aimed at him intensify but they all just strike the stone. The enemy could not reach him.
It was then I had concluded, the arrow was from our side.
Whatever thoughts I had been processing then are forgotten by me now. I did, however find myself taking Wu by the shoulders and pulling him from the edge, as if it was a gesture to protect him. I was met with an elbow to the stomach but I continued to lock my arms around him as he savagely fought me.
I had forgotten at that moment what I ought to inform him and continued to forget until Wu ripped me from his back and slammed me against the stone, producing a knife held at my throat.
High Prince wanted me to tell you - the dagger drew nearer - that their numbers were only one hundred, maximum and that h-he-he - careful! - That was planning a frontal attack!
At this Wu loosened the grip on my hair. When?
I cannot rememb-
Greene-
I am not a soldier!
You’re a reporter your memory should be even better!
Echoes!
How many?
I can’t-
Greene! I felt my scalp feel the pull of hair being pulled from their roots.
Honestly. I don’t - Eleven! Eleven echoes! And so he released me to only take me by the neck.
Liar!
No but-
Thirteen echoes have passed and I’ve seen nothing!
The ground began to rumble; the ripples of an explosion within the earth could be felt from within my boots.
Then, as if held but the hand of a god, the ground that was the cliff top began to lift and shift. Earth was falling away as something were being uprooted. Feet that were once secure fell away as the world seemed to tip just an angle - acute in nature.
My chest hit the ground as it came to meet me. The grip upon my neck was gone and only a knife, lodged into the rock, remained where a young man once was. Apart from the sounds of deep, earthly thunder, were the wails of the men that were pushed off the side. A cart rolled past and disappeared into the abyss from my left. Below me, the ravine, with only a sliver of silver where deep waters would run. Death would come before the water in the form of a panic induced attack by the heart.
Another cart was passing. It came so close to disappearing from the edge when a phantom of gold, red and silver bounded down the falling cliff. Not all of the cart fell into the ravine. The passenger, clung to the arm of the man - or phantom, for really he is both - who had rescued him. And yet, his rescuer was slipping. The angle to steep and there was not sure footing.
It’s fine, Chanyeol, the rescued, panted. Then he proceeded to say something for what I interpreted as; I can accept this. Please, I don’t see my life as important as yours.
He was lying. He wanted to live and High Princes troops were not his concern. His face was too serene. Too practiced.
The High Prince could not have made his frontal attack. We were not suffering the repercussions of his failure to eliminate the enemy for they have now, disappeared. There are no arrows.
You’re family now, the High Prince seemed to reason, as he lost further footing and slipped down allow the rock before I made a jump. I jumped to his tresses, embedding into the tipping cliff face, Wu’s knife, trapping the High Princes clothing between the sword, hilt and stone. He slipped no longer.
At that moment I felt very unlike myself. Chemically, I was running on powers that were not my own, when I carefully began to turn my body, looking at only the cliff face and not the scene below, so that feet could find the edges of the cliff face to the top. My feet found ground that was flat.
More words dripped from Prince Kyungsoo’s mouth before he released his fingers and lets go…But the High Prince catches his wrist.
Internally, I cheer. The High Prince turns to me, as if to formulate a plan of rescue when something hit me square in the black. It feel more like a boot than an arrow and I found myself falling, weightless. The moment feels endless and free. Freedom before death was what I was experiencing when I am suddenly yanked fully into the world of the living and not the half dead.
The High Prince has taken my hand.
I turn to my right and I notice, the Prince has taken a hand too.
Above me, on level ground, a shadow runs.
Chanyeol, the Prince was now speaking in English. Release us.
The High Prince shakes his head, trying to the find foot holes on the bare, smooth cliff face which still rumbled with life an anger. His face flushes. The veins along his arm define themselves, his feet cannot find anything. We are slipping. I cannot even reach the cliff face with my free hand.
I would think this would be easy for the Phoenix Prince, but he had not footing and yet he continues to try to lift us all but we were slidding closer and closer to death. His tresses were tearing.
He doesn’t understand his lack of strength.
Prince Kyungsoo yells at him. Chanyeol kept insisting he could.
He wanted to be hero. He wished it with all his heart.
When the Prince yelled at him again, he replied, with what I know as; No. I love you.
These were the perfect words for now there was silence from the Prince. It silences me also. It did so in the sense that my thoughts were blank as confusion reigned. Confusion is not an abundance of thoughts, but the lack of decipherable ones.
I realized, I felt betrayed on behalf of Byun.
Then I thought, it must be a different sort of love. It wouldn’t be fair and Chanyeol would not be noble if it were the same.
Heat pulled me back into the moment. There was a burning sensation in my hand. No not sensation, actual heat.
In a moment, I was thrown onto stable ground with the Prince landing beside me.
Get thee to servants! The High Prince barked at his climbed up from the edge, in a noticeably terrible temper.
Prince Kyungsoo rose and obeyed at once, his crying attendants running to him.
I rose, to bow to the High Prince when he roared; No! Leave me, Greene!
Which one? A voice I was surprised that I found pleasing to hear.
Father made his appearance. He is carrying a shield studded with arrows. He was covered in dirt but he looked bright. Happier. Younger. More like how I remembered him. He looks happy to see me and he hands me the shield and produces a handkerchief. He steps towards Chanyeol as I step towards him when-
Don’t! Please-
He sounds hurt, father notes and I agree. He sounds in agony - strained.
We take a step together; a final step before white silence and a force so powerful it knocks our backs to the ground and takes the air in our lungs with it. In the piercing silence there is a shout which develops into a shriek of agony. It sounds like something relieved after being contained but release in a painful process. As for how this all felt, I could not remember anything aside from the incredible heat.
A/N: Part Two will be coming soon! :)
Characters: Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Kris, Lay, D.O, (from EXO), OCs
Length: 3,000~
Summary: Archimedes and Alfred Greene accompany High Prince Chanyeol’s troops into to the Himalayas in a mission to eliminate a terrorist group forming in the mountains. They are accompanied by Chinese Imperial Forces and a traitor.
Genre: Fantasy, Action, Adventure
Note: This part of the Far East series. Which can be read in release order OR chronological order
Father arrived two days prior to leaving for the Himalayas. It was for an article. Or series of articles. It was for total coverage of this mission to destroy a terrorist group which had apparently attacked the Imperial City in China and had retreated into the mountains. Walter insisted, despite how I refused. My reasons being firstly, the High Emperor was foolish enough to lead his troops and furthermore his son and his new prince into enemy territory and second, that this was a mission arranged by the High Prince who I assume is quite fed up with my presence.
Furthermore, China men and Korean men alike dislike English foreigners. So, we were ignored.
Early in the journey, father began to complain about his back and I found myself losing interest. I was a bad son, but I couldn’t find or force myself to be interested. Concerns of the back were no concerns to me, especially that of those caused by Korean straw bedding. We were travelling through valleys and mountain ranges that were scenes of great beauty but it was all so unenjoyable because of the complaints from the old man.
You could have written to me, he said, when we dismounted for rest.
I can say the same to you.
Why, Jane even tells me you don’t send her anything. Nothing at all. She received nothing and so naturally, I worried and here I am. Father and son - on an adventure!
This isn’t an adventure. This is work.
But what about Jane, Alfie? What about-
Please don’t call me that, I said taking a sip of my water, which was running scarce. The China men and the Korean men shared their wine and their water but we were outside of that circle.
Well can you please explain to me why you don’t write to Jane?
I couldn’t tell him that I had written to her every single week.
You should just return to England. You are serving no purpose here! There are other writing jobs in England, where it is clean and no body stares at you as if they want to muder you. Take the airship back with me. It’s only a matter of time before she forgets about you and-
Jane won’t forget about me.
But she’s depressed! She was moping about and muttering to herself about how you may have a mistress and…
I had learnt to tune his voice out years ago. Perhaps Jane was not receiving my letters. Perhaps that was why her responses were in print and not in writing. Frauds. Someone has been intercepting my letters.
…and don’t get me started on the plumbing! He continued, as the old man does as we mounted our horses and trailed behind the party. You would think that the most powerful empire in the Far East would have indoor plumbing! Why these people are savages! Look at them as there stare at each other in detest! Their fellow countrymen!
We are not countrymen, a deep voice clear like crystal, with the slightest hint of a growl came from a young man at the old crone’s side. He had an accent like a New Englishman or American, blended with a hint of French.
Father blushed. I hadn’t seen that since aunt Isabelle introduced him to Lady Wicken who told him he was dashing.
Then I suppose that this hate stems from inter-racial differences? I asked, in attempt to recover some of our dignity.
It’s more inter-cultural and political as appose to racial differences, the young man replied. But don’t worry. Not everyone hates Englishmen, we just don’t like reporters. They tell lies, he said, meeting my eye and then looking down a moment with eyes that pierced the ground. Sometimes, he added.
Well, father huffed, assuming that gentlemanly manner required of him, it’s nice to meet such a well-mannered chap such as yourself. Forgive me for any indecencies. Archimedes Greene, at your service.
And I’m-
Alfred Greene, the young Eastern man finished as if a silent warning. My name is Wu Yifan but you may call me Kris.
I believe you were referred to as Kevin earlier, the old crone observed, rather rudely and obliviously.
The young man laughed. Kevin is reserved for my closest friends. Kris, would be fine for the Greenes for now. Perhaps in future I may permit you.
Your accent? I began before the old man. Where is it from?
From a colony just off New England. It’s French inhabited, mostly. I lived there until I was ten and unfortunately, the accent reveals itself when I speak English.
Where did you study? The old man snapped before me.
I didn’t.
Who are you with? I asked, almost too forcibly but Kris ignored it.
I’m on the Chinese side, he said, but I have nothing against Koreans. I occupy the position of translator, mediator and spokesman.
Yet you dress in fine armour.
He smiled a friendly smile to father. A mission is still a mission. You two should be fitted.
I thought armour was unnecessary and heavy and far too expensive. Kris’ armour looked much lighter than the metal layering like plates of a dragon’s skin like all the other Eastern men in his company. His armour was primarily constructed with leather. Fine and tough leather. Aside from that, he appeared to be dressed in skin with scales - not the metal fashioned like scales but the sort that comes from a Basilisk snake, if they exist.
Kris is handsome, I remember father saying a day or two later after the young Chinaman left us with ale, which everyone drank. We were stationed at the ridges of a gorge. Below us a ravine. Above us, snowing sky and hazy mountain peaks. Too handsome to be here.
Handsome people can be soldiers too.
I believe you’re right on that, Alfie. That general’s son has some delicacy to his face also.
He was referring to, of course, Zhang Yixing. I had heard rumours about him from all corners of Korea. He was believed to be a master archer, a decent swordsman, a wide reader and engaged but most curiously, he is believed to have drank the blood of a unicorn, who he believed to be a common horse, when he was lost in the mountain ranges along the Hwang He river. The blood of the unicorn gave his body regenerating abilities, or so they say. Of course, there has never been any proof of that. Zhang Yixing scars like every man.
They seem very close, Archimedes observed. Don’t believe they’re degenerate, are they?
He was observing Zhang and Wu from where they dismounted and their horses and gave each other playful elbows as they chose careful steps up the cliff face.
They will skin you and hang you on a tree if any of these men understood what you were saying.
But look at how they look at each other!
Perhaps they are friends. Life long.
Perhaps but isn’t degeneration part of the culture in this country? The prince married a man has he not? The princes-
I was growing tired of this old man. He ought to have stayed in Korea. Another month and a half in his company I may have to fall to my death to avoid him forevermore. But I can’t be so selfish. My poor Jane will have to deal with him afterwards.
Speak and understand English fluently, I interrupted. The High Prince Chanyeol had brought Prince Kyungsoo with him, for purposes unknown to me. You ought to watch your tongue, old man.
You ought to watch your tongue! I am your father, Alfred.
That’s just a title.
It’s a title that has respect and-
Well, if you need to remind me of the respect due, then the title is null of that, now, isn’t it?
Well that’s just-
Go home, father. You don’t understand anything here. You might die and I am tired of you, I told him, rather blunting, pulling the reigns of my horse.
As he dismounted also, he was glaring at me and turning red the way father’s do when they feel disrespected and still consider their twenty-seven year old son as if they were six and not as equal adults. Now listen here, Alfred, your mother-
Please don’t talk about my mother.
Why can I not speak of-
No, I said without a temper. I was quite bored of him already. I had expected nothing more of him. You don’t have the right.
You are still upset with me?
Not upset, I say, pulling my horse after the last soldier who edged their way carefully along the narrow ridge. I am just telling you that you have no right-
She was my wife! His voice bounced off the ridges of the ravine.
She was your wife. She is my mother.
Was your mother, son.
Is my mother, I repeat. One only has one mother.
Am I why you are so obsessed with the East? Do you need to understand why
I fell in love with an Eastern woman? Well the answer is not in the East, son! Is that why you are here?
Don’t be so self-obsessed, Archimedes.
Why disrespectful-
There was something suddenly fast whizzing past my ear that the air whispered as something sharp and shinning glinted in front of the face of the man I called father. The moment passed and there was a snap and sound of steel bouncing off a cliff face and then the cry of an elderly Englishman as the metal struck his cheek.
Suddenly, swords were drawn and balances momentarily lost.
Standing atop a ridge after a climb from the path which I currently stood, was Zhang Yixing, reloading a bow with a red arrow. Between mine and father’s feet were two arrows; one brown feathered and cleanly snapped in two. The second, a red arrow which had struck the first. My father’s face had only but a light gash on his cheekbone where the rebounded arrow head struck.
Orders were shouted.
Men and horses climbed to Zhang Yixing’s post whilst arrows were fired and received.
The men we sought found us before we found them.
I found myself hiding behind weapons cart, armourless.
Greene.
Your Majesty?
Load and light these, High Prince Chanyeol instructed, throwing arrows with heads wrapped in cloth and two flint stones, whilst dragging an uninjured father to my side. He was without armour, without clothing even on the top half of his body. I assumed he must have been sleeping in his travel-cart.
My father was dumb in his presence because even now, half asleep, the High Prince assumed a sort of radiance that came with him everywhere. He prepared a strange sort of cross-bow, far more advanced than anything in England and strapped it - for it seemed to be the sort that could be fired with only one hand - to his lower left arm before barking orders in Korean behind him. Soldiers assumed around him as I attempted to light his arrows.
After two attempts I finally lit the first arrow and handed it him. He loaded it unto his cross-bow and fired. Shortly after there was sound like thunder.
You are very slow, he commented, shoulders slumping as he watched me attempt to light the second.
This is not my forte, I replied.
Neither are manners, he added before bowing to Archimedes. Never mind the arrows, Greene. Find Zhang Yixing and tell him their numbers are only a hundred, maximum. Afterwards, find Kevin Wu and inform him that I will be perhaps initiate a frontal, direct attack. I will shoot over if all is well, in eleven echoes. He should not be far from Zhang.
[Note Bene: An echo is a unit of time - an unofficial unit - which is approximately the time taken for an echo of a particular phrase, chosen by those who it would pertain to, in completion of three repetitions. In my experience, this unit of time is approximately five seconds. With this in mind, it should be noted that Park was planning his daring frontal attack and performing it in less than a minute’s time.]
You want me to go out there?
He sighed. I can’t ask your father to go.
Well what about-
I have to find Kyungsoo. His eyes - which always spoke more than his words - told me that he was concerned. Genuinely. His duty of care took importance. He is my family now. He is important.
He turned about, expertly confirming his surroundings before leaping away.
The old man, chest heaving, looked to me, mouth agape; words about to spill out. I ignored him - or pretended to - before leaping from the cover of the cart across fairly clear airspace. It seemed for a fraction, the battle stopped to let me through and for that I was thankful. I ran far and fast, turning my head this way and that to spot Wu loading an arrow in the cover of a large stone. Behind was Zhang Yixing, doing the same but a shield strapped to his left arm and he used it against the enemy fire. He was for more mobile than Wu.
I called to him. At first he did not hear me.
I called him again.
He lifted his head as he finished loading his bow.
Then Zhang Yixing received an arrow to the neck; his balance tipped in consequence so that he fell into the air, disappearing over the edge.
Perhaps something about my expression - which I think, must have been so blank; so surprised - warned Kris to turn around. And thus he finds Zhang not there.
Kris leapt to the edge.
He leans his head over the rock, bow dismissed to the ground.
Then he screams, practically hollers, down into the ravine bellow in indecipherable Chinese.
The arrows aimed at him intensify but they all just strike the stone. The enemy could not reach him.
It was then I had concluded, the arrow was from our side.
Whatever thoughts I had been processing then are forgotten by me now. I did, however find myself taking Wu by the shoulders and pulling him from the edge, as if it was a gesture to protect him. I was met with an elbow to the stomach but I continued to lock my arms around him as he savagely fought me.
I had forgotten at that moment what I ought to inform him and continued to forget until Wu ripped me from his back and slammed me against the stone, producing a knife held at my throat.
High Prince wanted me to tell you - the dagger drew nearer - that their numbers were only one hundred, maximum and that h-he-he - careful! - That was planning a frontal attack!
At this Wu loosened the grip on my hair. When?
I cannot rememb-
Greene-
I am not a soldier!
You’re a reporter your memory should be even better!
Echoes!
How many?
I can’t-
Greene! I felt my scalp feel the pull of hair being pulled from their roots.
Honestly. I don’t - Eleven! Eleven echoes! And so he released me to only take me by the neck.
Liar!
No but-
Thirteen echoes have passed and I’ve seen nothing!
The ground began to rumble; the ripples of an explosion within the earth could be felt from within my boots.
Then, as if held but the hand of a god, the ground that was the cliff top began to lift and shift. Earth was falling away as something were being uprooted. Feet that were once secure fell away as the world seemed to tip just an angle - acute in nature.
My chest hit the ground as it came to meet me. The grip upon my neck was gone and only a knife, lodged into the rock, remained where a young man once was. Apart from the sounds of deep, earthly thunder, were the wails of the men that were pushed off the side. A cart rolled past and disappeared into the abyss from my left. Below me, the ravine, with only a sliver of silver where deep waters would run. Death would come before the water in the form of a panic induced attack by the heart.
Another cart was passing. It came so close to disappearing from the edge when a phantom of gold, red and silver bounded down the falling cliff. Not all of the cart fell into the ravine. The passenger, clung to the arm of the man - or phantom, for really he is both - who had rescued him. And yet, his rescuer was slipping. The angle to steep and there was not sure footing.
It’s fine, Chanyeol, the rescued, panted. Then he proceeded to say something for what I interpreted as; I can accept this. Please, I don’t see my life as important as yours.
He was lying. He wanted to live and High Princes troops were not his concern. His face was too serene. Too practiced.
The High Prince could not have made his frontal attack. We were not suffering the repercussions of his failure to eliminate the enemy for they have now, disappeared. There are no arrows.
You’re family now, the High Prince seemed to reason, as he lost further footing and slipped down allow the rock before I made a jump. I jumped to his tresses, embedding into the tipping cliff face, Wu’s knife, trapping the High Princes clothing between the sword, hilt and stone. He slipped no longer.
At that moment I felt very unlike myself. Chemically, I was running on powers that were not my own, when I carefully began to turn my body, looking at only the cliff face and not the scene below, so that feet could find the edges of the cliff face to the top. My feet found ground that was flat.
More words dripped from Prince Kyungsoo’s mouth before he released his fingers and lets go…But the High Prince catches his wrist.
Internally, I cheer. The High Prince turns to me, as if to formulate a plan of rescue when something hit me square in the black. It feel more like a boot than an arrow and I found myself falling, weightless. The moment feels endless and free. Freedom before death was what I was experiencing when I am suddenly yanked fully into the world of the living and not the half dead.
The High Prince has taken my hand.
I turn to my right and I notice, the Prince has taken a hand too.
Above me, on level ground, a shadow runs.
Chanyeol, the Prince was now speaking in English. Release us.
The High Prince shakes his head, trying to the find foot holes on the bare, smooth cliff face which still rumbled with life an anger. His face flushes. The veins along his arm define themselves, his feet cannot find anything. We are slipping. I cannot even reach the cliff face with my free hand.
I would think this would be easy for the Phoenix Prince, but he had not footing and yet he continues to try to lift us all but we were slidding closer and closer to death. His tresses were tearing.
He doesn’t understand his lack of strength.
Prince Kyungsoo yells at him. Chanyeol kept insisting he could.
He wanted to be hero. He wished it with all his heart.
When the Prince yelled at him again, he replied, with what I know as; No. I love you.
These were the perfect words for now there was silence from the Prince. It silences me also. It did so in the sense that my thoughts were blank as confusion reigned. Confusion is not an abundance of thoughts, but the lack of decipherable ones.
I realized, I felt betrayed on behalf of Byun.
Then I thought, it must be a different sort of love. It wouldn’t be fair and Chanyeol would not be noble if it were the same.
Heat pulled me back into the moment. There was a burning sensation in my hand. No not sensation, actual heat.
In a moment, I was thrown onto stable ground with the Prince landing beside me.
Get thee to servants! The High Prince barked at his climbed up from the edge, in a noticeably terrible temper.
Prince Kyungsoo rose and obeyed at once, his crying attendants running to him.
I rose, to bow to the High Prince when he roared; No! Leave me, Greene!
Which one? A voice I was surprised that I found pleasing to hear.
Father made his appearance. He is carrying a shield studded with arrows. He was covered in dirt but he looked bright. Happier. Younger. More like how I remembered him. He looks happy to see me and he hands me the shield and produces a handkerchief. He steps towards Chanyeol as I step towards him when-
Don’t! Please-
He sounds hurt, father notes and I agree. He sounds in agony - strained.
We take a step together; a final step before white silence and a force so powerful it knocks our backs to the ground and takes the air in our lungs with it. In the piercing silence there is a shout which develops into a shriek of agony. It sounds like something relieved after being contained but release in a painful process. As for how this all felt, I could not remember anything aside from the incredible heat.
A/N: Part Two will be coming soon! :)