Noo-ri made it back to the Wind Tribe, and from there, it's smooth sailing as far as his general livelihood is concerned.
He's deemed full recovered from his jungle escapade, and a few sessions of training classifies him a capable fighter-- but they don't need any help in their forces even if they were considered underdogs in that matter-- so he spent most of his time wandering the capital of Fuuga, observing the general lifestyle of the crowd.
He's allowed plenty of freedom, which is where he strives.
"Noo-ri! If you're headed down the mountain, could you fetch the next dose of Tae-yeon's medicine? There's still a bit of time, but it'll save the peddler some trouble coming up the mountain this week, since it's the rainy season."
He signed back a nonchalant word of agreement before heading off.
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Swiping his bangs to the back of his head and fastening it with a clip, he wraps a hooded cloak around his shoulders.
A spear for defense, a pouch of money, and the protective charm from Yun-ho at his side, Noo-ri leaves to venture.
It's hard to zero in on the right spots, but he thinks he's found the village of the White Dragon-- or at least, the remnants of it.
Lord Abi's faction has always been the surveillance unit, so navigation and espionage weren't Noo-ri's field of expertise-- but well, skulking around nimbly has always been the Shuten faction's forte, so he had some edge in the scouting department.
The mist is thick to the east, but not too far as to permeate into Xing territory. It's almost like it's alive, carefully keeping to its own grounds.
Nothing smells the same after so many years-- but this area was familiar to him, if he listened to his instincts and didn't think too deeply. That's right-- it was Sang calling out to his intuition, telling him home was here.
Or at least, maybe it was.
He didn't quite get it either.
So when the mist grew denser, and the sounds spoke louder, Noo-ri found himself standing before a village of white and wood.
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It was beautiful, breathtakingly so.
It's not as luxurious as Fuuga, or even as rich in colours-- but it was regal, and it was encrusted with forest and mountain and yet again covered so much in white-- things couldn't help but feel pristine and beautiful.
("Hey, Tea Boy!" Lord Guen would call out to him even when Sang was in the middle of training, simply for fun. "I'm thirsty, so I'll drink your awful tea. Hurry up though.")
(He would say such piercing words, but the smile on his face was warm.)
(Sang would quickly excuse himself from training, because Lord Guen may be from the other faction, but only another Dragon Warrior can rightfully oppose his orders.)
(No matter how long he took to boil water or steep tea, Lord Guen would still be there. And he would talk cheerfully to Sang and to himself as he drank the tea he always called awful-- about mundane things, about the future, about the war.)
(If uninterrupted, he always finished his tea.)
(It was evident that Lord Guen enjoyed his company, even if he had to drink awful tea as an excuse for it. It was honestly rather endearing, and there was little that made Sang happier than this.)
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WARRiOR (Akatsuki no Yona Fanfic)
FanfictionOnce upon a time, there was a weak and cowardly knight that served under a king. But this knight shielded his king from an assault-- he died. In glory of him, his statue was erected in the center of his hometown, exalted from generations to generati...