Krampus [Book Two Of King-Queen, Jester Series](CYJ)

17 : Yule Fire

"Oh he's the devil's possession
The Yule fire aglow in his eye."

⊱ ───ஓ๑♧๑ஓ ─── ⊰

In the crucible of life's trials, when shadows deepen and the world seems to conspire against us, it is the ember of mental strength that burns with an unwavering glow, guiding our way through the labyrinthine corridors of adversity. Like a lighthouse standing firm against the tempestuous seas, mental strength illuminates the path to resilience, teaching us to weather the storm without faltering.

It's the quiet but resolute voice that whispers, "You can," when the clamor of defeat threatens to drown our spirit. It's the melody of hope that plays even in the silence of despair, reminding us that while circumstances may test our mettle, they cannot define our essence.

And in Soobin's ears, the noise of something trying to hit the door seemed to convey that message. Although his vission was still blurry, he could feel that his body had given up his strength. It felt like he hadn't eaten in days and the only reason he was still alive was because his body was starting to break the fat globules under his skin. 

Maybe it was the wind that was hitting the door and his consciousness.

Unconscious for days, his essence seemed to hang by a fragile strand, suspended between the realms of wakefulness and dreams. Time danced like a whispering specter, as the rhythm of his heart echoed against the confines of his confinement. The whispers of hunger gnawed at his core, a relentless adversary that had sunk its claws into the recesses of his being.

Amidst the squalor, a solitary sentinel of sustenance beckoned: a fragment of bread, a relic of sustenance. Its edges tinged with staleness, it lay as a vestige of the world he had known, a world stolen away by his captors. With fragile fingers, he clutched the bread, a lifeline to a reality slipping through his grasp. Amen, His Lord!

With a hunger that surpassed the boundaries of mere nourishment, he tore into the bread with a fervor akin to madness. The morsels of sustenance dissolved upon his tongue, each bite a symphony of sensation that danced upon his senses. The taste of life, of salvation, of defiance coursed through his veins.

He ate not like a prisoner, but as a warrior claiming his vitality with every morsel, each swallow a declaration that his spirit would not bend to the chains that sought to ensnare him. As the bread vanished, his frame seemed to swell, not with the fat beneath his skin breaking, but with an energy untamed, a resolve unshaken.

"Listen, bro, it is not he who beats the system, who should be preached in our hearts; but he who never gave up. Never give up." Fragments of Yeonjun's quotations echoed in his head.

As he took the last bite, in the midst of his captivity when hunger clawed at his insides; he clung to his memories, his beacon of solace: Yeonjun.

As the last crumb of the stale bread met Soobin's lips, it bore witness to the tears that welled in his eyes. They were not tears of bitterness, but the silent streams of a heart awash with memories and longing.