The Fox's Jewel

The Theatre

A stranger roamed the countryside, the boy obscured by a conical hat and armed with a single sword strapped to his waist. Wearing an ocean blue hanbok he reflected the sea, something he left behind as he reached his destination. 

Eventually he reached his destination, moving past the uneven fences of wood, a gate forming in the center before him. It led towards a village painted a sunset orange, one that was surrounded by tall mountains and thick forests, the fall breeze chilling the landscape.

Looking around, he could see the odd airship fly by overhead, the gravel path leading him into the town. Surrounding him was the lantern strung village, wires connecting from house to house beneath the brims of roofs.

Stepping over a small bridge, he crossed quite a large river, able to see small fish swim past. They dodged the hooks of kids who were fishing on the riverbank, getting caught in net traps that more clever children set up.

To his surprise, tourists were plenty, busy spending the evening daylight in the streets. Surrounding them were a plethora of stalls, piping hot foods up for purchase, the scent travelling on the breeze to him as well.

Making his way to the stone brick square, he saw his destination before him, the giant theatre resting on a rising hill.

With red painted pillars, the large building was topped with a roof covered in a striking design. The hanging end-piece shingles were carved, grimacing goblin faces sculpted onto black tiles to ward off evil spirits. 

Walking up the stone steps, he could see the large front gates of the theatre, making his way around and towards the back. Pulling out a few document sheets, he didn't notice the person before him until he bumped into them.

It was a man in their late twenties, their face covered in a short black beard and their body covered in an orange hanbok. They carried a small spear, the man a guard on patrol protecting the back entrance.

Seeing him, the man's bushy eyebrows perked, surprised to see him as he immediately dismissed him as a threat despite the sword at his waist.

"Never seen you before. You're a traveller, right?"

Turning to the side, he tapped the wooden beams of the theatre, pointing it out to him as he continued.

"Sorry but the theatres closed right now. No entry for tourists."

Instead of turning around and leaving, the boy lifted the sheet up to the guard. To his surprise, the man saw the great red stamp on the bottom right, alongside the swashes of ink that formed fancy writing.

Seeing that, the man's expression changes to a suave smile, the spear's wooden body resting on his shoulder as he stepped aside from the entrance.

"Ah, it's about time you came."

Pushing through the door, he could see the backstage that was barely lit. Sunlight poured through the few windows, high ceilings made his footsteps echo, a high tower of scaffolding acting as the sole pillar that kept the entire building up.