Wehmutstau und Sturmgesang

26. The Abyss

Mingi had forgotten who he was.

He knew his name. He knew the heat he was born of.

But he forgot everything else in the fathomless darkness.

He felt cold. How long had it been since he last felt warmth? He couldn't remember. Mingi didn't know. He didn't move. Didn't eat, didn't drink. Had no passion for movement or conversation.

None of it would be what he needed. None of it would clear those shadows.

He only slept, and he dreamed.

Of shining white blinding his eyes. Of dark silhouettes greeting him with tender voices and extending their hands his way. Of laughter and delicious food on his tongue. The song of the birds was lovely, as was the rustling of the trees. This was his paradise. His new home, since the place he had grown up in never suited him.

But it was all wrong. The voices turned into screams of agony and their bodies writhed on the floor. Walls crumbled and the crackling of the fires of his home consumed all the newfound beauty. Mingi tried to reach for them, but he didn't understand what was going on and where he was.

And all of a sudden, everything was gone. Sunk into a void. A single voice explained to him that there was nothing he could do.

The dreams turned into nightmares.

In his many hours of sleeping and dreaming, the darkness of reality blended with the darkness of his dreams. Mingi couldn't tell anymore where one began, and the other ended. Sometimes, when Mingi drowned in that seclusion, he wondered if he had any sanity left to ever return to. Or if he was damned to an eternal existence in delusion.

He lost himself in that isolation. Forgot who he was, what he was supposed to do. Lunacy consumed him for its depths lured with blissful ignorance. If Mingi forgot everything, he wouldn't suffer anymore. He could finally rest.

The pain devouring him was too violent for him to bear. Mingi was supposed to be strong and durable, a terror of a demon. But stemming large weights was nothing compared to this agony in his chest.

Mingi had never loved before getting married. Had never been loved. He thought himself undeserving of such luxuries. Not attractive enough, not healthy enough.

Seonghwa accepted him despite all that. As a demon, as someone without sight. He touched Mingi's skin gently, and he was by his side, assuring him. He gifted him a child. Mingi's child. His own family. The grandest act of dedication he could imagine.

Seonghwa showed him the light. Brought joy to the gloom of his life. There was so much to learn with him, endless happiness since Mingi could trust him.

When Mingi first found this place, he clung to those memories for dear life. Reminisced about every caress and every whisper of love. Curled up around himself to mimic those tender hugs and deceived himself into hearing the song of his soul again.

But forcing that joy made the loss all the worse. Mingi screamed and kicked whenever his dreams faded, tugging on his hair and scratching on his skin until he left bloody marks. He needed Seonghwa. Needed him so desperately.

It hurt. Waking up hurt and Mingi couldn't feel the ache of his body, the coldness around him. Only his twin hearts provided the suffering of aeons.

A deep loneliness was the result. Loneliness, which Mingi tried to fend off by repeating the cycle.

Betrayal mixed with his yearning. Rage distorted his melancholy. Breathing became harder and harder, so Mingi yelled by himself in that desolate cave where no one could hear him. Tried to dislodge the knot in his throat and the spindly hand of fear grabbing him.