Dal cannot stop thinking about the stranger. He has never seen him before, but the small village he lives in is close to the border and thus a place frequented by many travelers and passers-by.
His thoughts are haunted by the man's dark blue eyes, looking at him intently. He wakes up every day with a secret longing to meet him again. Why so, he cannot really explain. Finally, he decides to go to the village, to look around hoping to find him. He simply wants to thank him again - that is what he tells himself - and give him a small gift to show his gratitude. And he knows what he will give to the stranger: one of his crafts. Dal smiles to himself. He always spends his free time carving small figures on branches and other pieces of wood he finds in the forest. He looks at his collection and picks out a small intricately ornate crescent moon. He puts it in a small midnight-blue silk pouch his mother has made for him. He smiles happy at the thought of giving this humble gift to the stranger.
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The boy enters the inn. The place is full of people sitting and chatting carefree in the main hall, drinking and eating. He spots the stranger from the other day, sitting with another man he does not recognize. They seem engrossed in conversation. In the daylight, Dal realizes how both of them are very handsome and youthful. And they both look like foreigners. Nothing like the people he is used to seeing all his 20 years of living around the small village. He decides to approach them, his eyes timidly lowered. As he approaches their table, he is cut off by a young man Dal wishes he had never met. The second son of the local noble family, the Kims, tries to talk to him every chance he gets. But his intentions are not completely innocent. Dal understands that young master Kim has a particular kind of interest in him, a kind that Dal himself does not care for. On the contrary, the attention makes him utterly uncomfortable. Said man is currently completely intoxicated and grabs the boy by the arm. He drags him away to a more secluded part of the hall, despite his protests and traps him between his person and the wall.
"You are avoiding me..." The man states in a slurry voice. His breath stinks of alcohol. "Let go, I have somewhere to be!" Dal tries to push him away. "No... stay here. Keep me company." He leans even closer to the boy who finally shoves him away unceremoniously. The commotion draws the attention of the other patrons. "Hey! Who do you think you are to push me away?" "I want nothing from you, leave me alone!" The young master's friends come to his aid, glaring at Dal. But behind him now stands a stranger, a tall dark-haired man looking at all of them with cold piercing dark blue eyes. "Is there something wrong?" His voice is deep and equally cold. The small crowd disperses rather unsettled by the intimidating aura this stranger exudes, dragging along the drunkard. Dal turns around and faces the man he\s been looking for. His dark blue eyes look now at Dal with a twinkle of amusement. "You are a magnet for trouble, aren't you?" "Oh, I am sorry..." Dal bows his head embarrassed. He feels his cheeks flush. "I just came to, erm, to give you this." He says shyly presenting the small gift to the man. Endymion looks at the boy's hands holding the silk pouch. "It is to thank you for your help the other day." He adds, looking everywhere but the man in front of him. "You do not have to..." "Please! Take it! It is not much but please, do me the honour of accepting it." The boy repeats flustered. Endymion takes the pouch and opens it. He pulls out the small figure.
A crescent moon! The Fates play their game again!
"Thank you. What is your name?" "Dal, sir!" The boy replies smiling. "My name is, erm, Min." He remembers to use the name his friend Jeongin 'gave' him. "Thank you for accepting my humble gift, master Min!" The boy bows his head and turns to leave. "Just call me Min. And, come; sit with us, if you will." Endymion smiles gently at the boy. "I will be honoured! Thank you for your kindness, master Min!" "Just Min." he repeats softly. "Min!" Dal repeats as well, smiling shyly now, but his eyes are bright. He is excited for the chance to spend time with the man.
Young master Kim is eyeing both of them, annoyed. How dare a stranger get in his way? Doesn't he know who he is? "Let it go." His friends advise him. "You do not wish to get into trouble again. Especially with your father!" But he is stubborn. Whatever he wants, he always gets!
Dal is happy. He stays almost until late afternoon with the two strangers, stealing glances at Endymion whenever he thinks the other is not looking. He is captivated by his charm and hangs on every word the man speaks. He has so many new things to say, so many places he has been - and so has his friend. It is like they've already lived a thousand lives. Dal stares in awe into those blue eyes that seem to hold unfathomable depth. Endymion is equally captivated by the boy. His sweet smile, his bright eyes and that deep velvety voice -he did not notice on the previous encounter how deep the boy's voice is - his hearty laughter, carefree and cheerful. Endymion almost berates himself for even entertaining the notion that this boy could somehow be Io's reincarnation. But when Dal turns to face him, he wavers again. The eyes that look back at Endymion are hers. It feels like she is reaching out to him accross time, making his cold heart ache. And the scent, the boy's scent, so familiar so warm: primrose and pine. Endymion blinks to chase away the memory of the warm summer evenings of his youth spent in the girl's slender arms.
It can't be her! It is not possible!
YOU ARE READING
Heathen
FantasyIn ancient times they were mere mortals who were given the gift of immortality by the Goddess of the Moon, Night and Magic. Like Endymion, a young man who died in Hekate's arms and came back to life, seemingly forever. Reader discretion is advised.
