DAECHWITA

thirty two

Jangmi shivered slightly as the wind crept behind her, taunting her almost, for the lack of her saviour. 

She wasn't sure how many nights had passed since her capturing, she had no idea of what was going on in the world outside of her cell. Occassionally, the guard would change, but they uttered not a word as they glided silently past her desperate pleas.

But she did not lose faith. 

Yoongi and the boys would come for her, she was sure they would. 

As she gathered the skirt of her hanbok together, keeping her frail figure warmer, a loud clang hit the wall. 

Her eyes glanced upwards as a man stood in front of her. His features were not that of a Korean. His copper skin was illuminated by the lamp he held, his eyes pitying the Empress in front of him.

"You're presence is needed," 

She was surprised at the soft manner of his tone. It was not rough or scathing like the others who had only come to her prison to torture her even further. His Korean was with an accent, not perfect, but enough so that she and him could communicate. He offered a hand, and hesitatingly, she took it, flinching slightly at how calloused they were.

"Are they going to hurt me?" She questioned as they left her cell, the lamp held in the man's hand the only source of light as they travelled down a tunnel of cells.

"I don't know," He confessed. "I shall hope not, they have tortured you well enough,"

He was right. Scars littered her body, some deeper than others. Scratches lined her once smooth, creamy skin and her lips were chapped, bleeding.

"Are you going to help me out of here?" The Empress turned towards the copper-skinned man.

"I cannot promise anything, Your Majesty," He lowered his voice as they passed a few guards. "But I assure you, help is on the way,"

"What is your name?" 

The man paused, wondering whether he should give his name. But his mind encouraged him, after all, he wouldn't be alive for much longer anyway. 

At least one person should know his true name.

"Rayaan," He answered with a sad smile. "Rayaan Mehra, Your Majesty,"

"You are not from here, are you?" The Choi girl tilted her head. "Your name and your features,"

"No, I am from a little west from here. I came for business and was swept up in this... trade," Rayaan lowered his head, pain echoing across his face. "I don't think I can return home,"

Jangmi pitied him. She could not imagine being unable to return home to the ones she loved and cherished, especially if she was away from her home country. Whilst she had never left Korea, she had never wanted to be away from it for so long.

"Tell me about where you are from," She offered Rayaan a smile, and something inside of her borke as his face lit up.

"Oh, it's beautiful, Your Majesty," He beamed. "Rivers running throughout the land, farms with many animals and elephants roaming the earth. Children playing under the rays of the sun, bright colours everywhere you go. Our people care for one another like brother and sister, no matter our beliefs and thoughts. And the morning sun is the most wonderful thing to see,"

"It sounds incredible," She smiled softly. "I would love to go there,"

"If fate was in our favour, Your Majesty," The man chuckled. 

They had finally reached a doorway, locked by a large iron bolt. The carvings etched upon it certainly were not paintings, but the scratches of knives and swords used against those who had put up a fight.

"Say not a word when you go in there," Rayaan whispered, a sense of urgence in his tone. "Only speak when he asks you questions. If not, he will slit your throat without hesitation, okay?"

Jangmi nodded, as the Mehra man let out a sigh, before sliding the iron bolt to the side and pushing open the doors.

Fate, be by her side.