Taehyung, October 10 1985, Outskirts of the city of Blane
The sun is out today, warming up the waters of the river. I quickly shed off my bloody shirt and trousers and slip into the water. With a contented sigh, I revel in the sensation of the pure, cool water wrapping around my body, offering comfort and solace. After a few minutes of just floating in the water, I start to clean off my body. I scrub off the grime and blood that hadn't come off with just the water.
I heaved myself up onto the damp ground, the dew clinging to my clothes, giving my skin an uncomfortable, clammy sensation. With a sense of reluctance, I hurriedly dressed, the fabric sticking to my body and causing a repulsive sensation. I trudge back to my shack. After yesterday's encounter, I had no will to do anything so I had just spent rest day resting.
The corpses were starting to decompose, and the stench was absolutely awful.
The incessant feeling of guilt gnawed viciously at my insides, consuming me whole. Each time I harnessed my powers, I somehow managed to lose touch with who I truly was, a constant cycle of self-abandonment and struggle. The anguished screams and heart-wrenching cries that surrounded me back then seemed to fall on deaf ears, their echoes unable to deter my actions at the time. However, in hindsight, those haunting sounds now relentlessly plague my thoughts, serving as a brutal reminder of the irreversible impact of my past choices.
A shudder passes through my body when I remember the reason why they were here. They said that I was threat to the kingdom and the King. The King was fairly young, self-appointed. I had never seen what he looked like but heard rumors about his cruelty. Had the King himself sent them to kill me? The men had worn the royal uniforms. But what I had done that bothered the King so much that he had his soldiers attempt to kill me. What could a mere peasant like me could have done to disturb him? My powers are probably not even strong enough to fight against his whole army. Only a few people knew about my abilities and the only who would rat me out would be my mother. Would she actually do that to her own son? I scoff, I'm just a poor boy, another mouth to feed that wouldn't even get her any money. Maybe that's why she was keen on sending me to the Noble's house.
The rotting smell of corpses alerts me that I'm back at the shack. The bodies were still tangled up in the vines and with a flicker of my finger, the vines pull back. I create a hole, wide and long enough to fit 7 men. One had ran away and I didn't care too much. Another less murder on my hands.
I try to carry the man but my frail body is not in the state to lift heavy objects or humans. I call for the vines and wrap them around the bodies, one by one, and then settle them into the pit. With a whip of my hand, the dirt covers them up, never to be seen again. I wonder if they had families waiting for them at home. Have I taken away their only source of food and shelter?
I gingerly lower myself onto the splintered floor of the dilapidated shack. With a heavy heart, I bow my head, sinking it into my trembling hands as relentless tears cascade down my cheeks. The dam of pent-up emotions shatters, releasing a torrent of frustration and agony that have long been festering within me. Each passing moment feels like an eternity, the transition from seconds to minutes, and from minutes to hours, marked by the unrelenting storm of emotions raging within me and echoing through the desolate space.
By the time I finally brush my tears away, the sun has almost set. Hunger spreads through me like a ripple, making me realize I haven't eaten since dawn. Exiting the shack, I retrieve the weapons I had gathered from the soldiers. Now that I can hunt better, I don't need to rely on berries and other vegetation. I walk through the forest, trying to find a small animal that I could feast on. I have been through these woods countless times so the thought of getting lost doesn't frighten me.
The sun had completely sunk below the horizon, casting shadows across the landscape, by the time I stumbled upon my much-needed sustenance - a plump Quail. Stealthily, I notched an arrow onto my bow and skillfully aimed, releasing it with precision. The bird tumbled to the ground, a satisfying thud echoing as it fell. Anticipation and hunger mingled in my expression, a knowing grin spreading across my face, envisioning the succulent meat that awaited me. Quail, reminiscent of chicken with a distinct earthy undertone, possessed a gaminess that heightened the experience, a delightful blend of flavors akin to a hybrid between the familiar taste of chicken and the richness of duck.
I make my way back to my shack and set the bird down. I grab a knife and skim it down, leaving the meat. After a long debate with myself, I finally decide to start a fire. After a few unsuccessful tries, I finally light a spark. I cook the bird until it's roasted and then finally bite down onto the meat. I moan at the taste of real food in my mouth. I let the fire burn as I eat, too greedy to let go of the warmth of the flames.
Suddenly, amidst the stillness of the forest, a sharp crack echoes through the air, causing me to instinctively spring to my feet. Before me, mere steps away, a group of six men materialize, their figures cloaked in uniforms that blend seamlessly with the shadows of the night, except for the forefront figure clad in plain attire. The dim light obscures their faces, prompting me to strain my eyes in an attempt to discern their identities. With each deliberate step they take towards me, a surge of panic grips my entire being, amplifying the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Their presence looms ominously, casting an eerie aura over the clandestine encounter unfolding in the depths of the wilderness.
What if these men are the King's soldiers, sent to finally get rid of me?
"I have weapons!" I yell. "Don't come near me!"
I hear the man in simple clothing say something to his peers. The man walks forward without the other people.
"I mean no harm," the man said in a voice that was both captivating and authoritative, its depth resonating in the air around them. He expressed his desire to engage in a conversation with the utmost respect, gently adding, "If you'd please, I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to speak with you."
He sounded promising and if he tried something, I'd tie him up like the other ones. "Okay."
As I stood there, observing his every move, the man subtly nodded and began to walk towards me. It was in that moment, under the soft flickering glow of the flames, that his face was draped in a warm, illuminating light. Entranced by the sight before me, I found myself utterly mesmerized by the sheer beauty that radiated from him. His jawline, sharp and defined, his eyes, piercing and captivating, and his hair, effortlessly tousled and perfectly in place, all seemed to come together in a harmonious symphony of perfection. The way he carried himself, with an undeniable charm and grace, was enough to capture my attention entirely. This man was not just handsome; he exuded an inexplicable allure that drew me in and left me utterly spellbound.
"Hello Taehyung." The man said, breaking me away from my thoughts.
"How do you know my name?" My heart raced as I cautiously lifted the knife, pressing it gently against the man's neck, hoping to assert some form of control in this unnerving situation. Despite my attempt at intimidation, my unease only intensified upon hearing the chilling sound of multiple guns being cocked behind him, sending a shiver of fear down my spine and creating a deep sense of dread in the very core of my being.
The man holds up his hand, gesturing for the others to halt. "This was not how I expected our first meeting to go like." I press the knife just a little bit closer, making me lean closer. The man has a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His hot breath falls onto my face, making me shudder.
"Who are you?" I ask.
"The King, dear."
~
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