The Little Soldier (Akatsuki no Yona OC)

Chapter 6

As Tatsu's collapse, everyone was sent into a frantic wail.  Kou bawled as his hands were held tightly in a fist, clenching onto Tatsu's shrivelled clothing with his once swaying brown hair now slick with sweat as it glued itself onto his face. Those large, drooping tears felt heavy yet soft, and hollow yet firm. Everything was numb and blurry, so thick and heavy on his already bruised shoulders. Every static breath Tatsu gave sent Kou into a whirlwind of emotions -- pain for sharing her oozing suffering and light for holding her up as they twirled wordlessly.  As Kija and Yona attempted to comfort him,  Yoon checked her pulse and felt for temperature while Hak and Shin-Ah remained aloof.  Solemnly, the group carried her to their camp, all the way ensuring her calloused feet never saw the ground.

The leaves of the pines fluttered lightly, a few drifting to the fertile soil. Yet, the wind did not sleep -- it wanted game. The trees shook furiously, leaves slapping jagged rock. Kou could even hear the silence of the birds, ferocious and cunning in the day, and alert with flair at night. Even the slightest of songs heated loudly in his ear, from the uneven cackling of burning ash to the erosion of the softer rocks down the cliff. Kou did not understand how something so simple could become something so complex. More so, he could out understand why he had only felt it then, which he clearly knew later.

The group sat in silence as Kou's breathing evened out, however, eyes still darting back occasionally to Tatsu's figure.

Hak whispered, "tell us everything." It was smooth yet domineering... but it was noisy to Kou. He and the moon had been in a trance within each other, admiring each other's burnt callous over drooping wounds, and how strong they must have been to still be treading on Earth.

The Cynthia was strong for still guarding the damned people.
Kou was strong for still living in the damned world.

He didn't speak, just gathering his thoughts.

High-pitched and monotone, a raspy voice came to rigidly. "No."

Hak nodded with a lowered head and stood up, then slapping his knee caps, he stalked off.

Kou sing-songed thickly again, voice rising at the last syllable, "you're wrong."

Hak stopped.

The atmosphere continued to layer onto the bottom slice with added tension in a combination of mild alertness and hallucination.

"The Curse Famine... it was my village. We weren't alive then, but they could not grow enough crops, people were dying every day, and no matter what they did," Kou shivered in a river of memories but nevertheless, Yona still opted for a blanket over him from the river of ice. He continued, "we couldn't grow enough corps.  So, to compensate for our poor supplies, we began to steal.  First, it was out of necessity.  But the leaders were still starving.  They waged wars within Kouka and schemed so it concealed our village's footprints -- like it never existed." Suddenly, Kou laughed, dangerous but controlled as his stare bore into every person's soul. "Hey kids, money is power, so take as much as you can get. That is not a wrong move. Heck, even using the black dragon in battle isn't stupid." Kou's eyes, however, blared fiercely. " You just gotta keep your people in check. Once they learn they have enough power to rebel, your reign is over. "

Five men were seated around a polished stone table with dark expressions draped across each of their faces in echo.  The room was dimly lit, candlesticks dripping as the five men's rick raven garments covered their bodies.

"We need to deal with the problem,"  said one.  "The stupid dragon is spreading ill messages."

"Oh, son, being stupid isn't the problem here."

"You know what I meant," he growled.

Another nodded thoughtfully, "soldiers might start to desert."

"Calm, Carlos. It's just one resistance --- he's not even 17, we can condition him."

"Torture could keep him quiet, that's for sure, but he may get weaker."

"We'll just have to see, don't we, son? What doesn't kill you makes you stronge-"

"I said, 'I. Am. Not. Your. Son.'"

"While I am your father."

"NO--"

"lUkE!" 

"He's going into battle, what's a few more scars?"  While two men deliberated and the other two quarrelled, one sat with his chin rested upon his wrinkly, grey hands.  His black eyes were distant, and his face held no emotion even as his thin lips cracked into a wide grin that reached the backs of his ears. 

It was calm and soft to the average being, but no one there was normal. If you weren't twisted, you were sadistic, and if you weren't sadistic you were psychotic. "I have an idea." 

"They found a way to mess with the black dragon's power so that it was stronger and more brute physically, minus the sacrificed sight and hearing."

"Why would they do that?"  Yoon asked.

"Try caging a bird.  Every time it looks out at the brilliant sky, all it yearns to do is just to spread its wings -- because they know they were made for flight. But if that cage was all you have ever known, it's like the skies never existed."

A large mansion loomed with founded pride as it rested on a hill, black flags raised limply on poles at the side of the gates.  The sun brought orange cotton onto the village that lay nestled beneath the hill, torn with irises and vines.  Inside one of the many thick rooms of the estate, a woman was laying on a bed, and her arms caressed nothingness of the air in the form of a newborn, reminiscing the exact image. In yet another cell, that image was 4 dimensional and had been born a few hours prior.  However, like a stolen muse of movie theatre, its audio was cancelled and did not cry, scream, or look at anyone.  In the hallway, an old man in his fifties with slick black hair tied into a top know and an elegent black haori, was discussing the birth with the midwife, cane tapping impatiently yet no signs of crack was evident on its English Walnut exterior.

"So, it's a girl?"

The midwife nodded.

"Good, they grow faster."  He morphed his hands together, rubbing circles onto each other. "Was the child healthy?" 

She nodded again.

Without missing a beat, he whispered,"excellent.  When she begins to walk, let me know and we will begin training."  The midwife was sent away to become the primary caretaker for the child for the next year.