"Humans fear what they do not understand."
Son of the sky, heir of the next light. Banished by his own land, and abandoned by his Emperor.
Afore was once loved by his people. Adored by his father, the Emperor, treasured by his mother, praised by the Royal Court; but then came a prophecy.
"I beseech thee, o, lord," The royal, coxcomb, astronomer cried, "Mayhap I say, and swear it with great oath to the sun of this empire—The Heavens has whispered; the fainéant prince bore this kingdom doom; an ill-fated omen his star cast to the Empire!"
As he spoke, he wept aloud, and the mothers of all baseborn heard him by the embouchure of the river where they sat pounding clout and beddings. "I bid to tell the king; to consider hearing my pleas and wherefore he must do, for I know that I shall offend one who rules this land with might."
And so the prince's umbilical cord was rid from his mother's Jar; as the loyal subject has ordered, t'was displayed on a shrine; where people of the emperor could say one's prayers for the prince. As if half-mad mourners, they weep; as if grieving, not of love that did not persevere. But is one out of perturbation; afearedt. As if the child is already long dead. He might as well be. But he does not know, he's never come to known. They never truly loved the son of the sky.
He moved to live under her feathers, of the Queen. In the Inner Palace of many Amulet sheets. Palace of garland covered pillars, of chalcedony, jasper, and mahogany. And under his ocean ceremonial robes, with emblems of snakes slithering his sleeves, is where the prince's world revolves in. Ever dimly shone with torches of cedar.
Hair crowned of thorns and whose lips cold as the winter gloaming. Every day, he would be painted in red; he wears the smell of pig fat, and of dragon's blood, like perfume.
But young and naïve, clinging to the only warmth he knows of, he asked the reason why. The Empress, with her eyes full of far-off palanquins, replied, "T'is but a rite of passage, my beloved. For the one who is next to ascend the throne. To ward off malicious spirits, and to protect you from harm."
The mother could only lie. T'was for the silent shedding of a young's blood, and amulets a shackle to contain the wingless Imoogi inside.
But eftsoons, its spell has weakened through time as he grew as a vessel; the demon still thriving uncontrolled. Nothing can help him from the dogs and vultures feasting on his innards; Ripped opened and found unsightly. And the only aid that he thought he has hath turned blind as the kingdom of Joseon demand his captivity.
He burned so long so quiet with ire, "Pray tell, o, father, which do I ask forgiveness for; for what I am, or what am not?" "Pray tell, o, mother, what shall I regret; for sins I hath never done, or for not burning sooner?"
They prayed not for his longevity; that he might lead a life full. Lo, he offered their bones to the earth and flesh for the majestic scales, as his curt reply.
Fearless child; broken boy, sing to me how thine eyes set fire to the empire; Incessantly, with maddening hunger; till the point of no return.
Son of the Sky, The imperial crown prince of the blood. Ripped off of his dignity and title, he was banished by the ruined empire, and abandoned by the Emperor's corpse.
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on 14.4 x 21 cm sketchbook
medium watercolor & color pencil
12-15-2020
Please note: In the ancient Joseon dynasty of Korea, Mothers who recently went on labor keep their babies' umbilical cord on a placenta jar, because they believed that doing so will grant their children good health and long life.
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