In The Shadow of Asora

10. Tales about Asora

The soft light from the moon lamp cast a blueish halo around Yeosang's head as he worked. Jongho took a break while he finished by the table. The original moon outside of the curtain-free window lazily made its way over the nightly sky. With it, the raked shadows of the trees outside travelled over Yeosang's floor.

Jongho observed the prince with intrigue. Until recently, he never would have guessed that Yeosang might be a prince, but now that he mulled it over in his head once more, it added up. He resided in the palace, and he was close to the crown prince. Back when Jongho had visited the first time, he had eaten in his private quarters that he clearly had the privilege to choose based on his rank.

His feelings about discovering a prince interested in Zey and its people were mixed. While he was glad to recognise Yeosang's attempts and judgement-free curiosity in his town, Jongho's cynical side also distrusted him. Why in the world would Yeosang need to wait for somebody to break inside his home to take action? As a prince, he must be powerful enough to push his own researches and wants.

As Jongho warily eyed him, Yeosang continued with his scribbles. Whenever a question came up in his head, he would ask Jongho about it. He didn't mention the prince thing again ever since.

Time passed slowly for them. Jongho was keenly aware of his restriction to this one room, and it triggered his anxiousness. Used to moving around, staying seated for too long was pure torture for him. If he ever had to come here again, he should bring something to tinker with.

Yeosang sniffed as he pulled his blanket tighter around his hips. When Jongho snapped out of his daydreams at the sudden movement, their eyes met. In the twilight of the room, Jongho wasn't able to discern the man's eye colour. He could only guess that they were dark.

"Are you tired?"

Jongho mildly shook his head. His leg had fallen asleep and ached against the straps that held the gadgets to it as he shifted.

"I'm fine. I got the engine by the gearbox."

Yeosang nodded uncertainly.

"Then if you, as a westsider were to find an eastsider who has been... let's say robbed on the streets, how do you react?"

With as much care as he could muster, Jongho imagined the situation. He knew that these things were important to Yeosang even if they felt like unproductive tommy-rot to him.

"I wouldn't mind him. I might ask him to mind the grease, but I wouldn't rob him. Personally. There are a lot of people in Zey who think otherwise." Jongho nodded, satisfied with his answer. Yet, Yeosang frowned confusedly.

"You wouldn't help him?"

At the direct follow-up question, Jongho quizzically inclined his head. It took him a moment to understand the upset that tainted Yeosang's voice.

He shook his head.

"No. We don't help people in Zey, especially not if they are from another place. We barely trust each other."

Gnawing on his lips, Yeosang considered his words. He didn't write them down yet, however. He fumbled with his pen instead.

"What if they were off really bad. Bleeding, maybe, and begging for help? Would you do it then?"

Jongho's answer was resolute when he declined once more. This time, he crossed his arms, too.

"No. I don't care what happens to an outsider, and neither does anyone else over there. Not caring is the only blessing I can give. Enough people would trample your character to death, especially when he comes from a noble family."