Cursed Hearts | ATEEZ

042

I was at a loss for words as I followed the King of Autumn through a clearing in the forest, out of breath from the long hike up the side of the Fiercest Mountain, his own, as we finally broke through the landscape of trees and foliage and the sky once again broke through the clouds of green treetops to reveal the setting sun.

Wooyoung came to a halt and glanced back at me for a moment before walking onto the bridge paving a way through the free-fall and enormous empty space at the end of the cliff we had reached, built from a mix of white and slightly tan stones that matched the palace at its other end, everything glowing warmly in the light from the tired sun.

I hesitated for a moment before stepping onto the bridge as well. Not a word had been exchanged between the two of us since what had happened in the library earlier, the feelings of guilt and want and desperation within me swirling restlessly as I looked at the king's back and followed him.

He had wanted to show me his palace, having promised it a long time ago, but, considering the fact that the eighth trial was nearing, now seemed like the best time, the only time, we would have the chance. He had come to find me in the gallery, having stumbled upon Taeyong and me at the worst possible moment. And despite all of it, he had been there to comfort me, to offer me more than I ever deserved.

I was honored, truly, as I stared up at the Palace of Autumn; pristine and grand and elegant with its warm tones and hues of autumn, open windows and red roofs glowing warmly in the sunset. But I found myself unable to shake off that feeling of guilt as I once again noted the distance between the two of us, hating every part of it, wanting, more than anything, to tell the king how I really felt, how everything in that gallery had been a mistake, how my words to Taeyong had been a mistake.

I realized all of it now, how the cliff between my best friend and I had grown to an irreversible depth, and how, if I continued to fear the future that lay ahead, I would lose Wooyoung as well.

I needed to tell him, I decided, walking a little faster as the autumn trees around us shook slightly in an invisible breeze, the only sign of its existence being the way the yellow, orange, and crimson leaves the colour of blood danced in its wake as it sang its usual songs of secrets and desires and forgotten stories.

I left behind the view of the mountains and the sky and the sunset and Martell looming far beneath the bridge as I made it to the other side of the cliff and hurried into the Palace after Wooyoung only to slightly halt in my steps as awe washed over me at the sight of the space I suddenly found myself at the middle of.

The room was enormous, a mass of polished floors that covered the entirety of the space, almost mirror-like, reflecting the rows of columns that lined the walls at the very edges of the room, making their gilded surfaces look almost infinitely tall.

The silence in the room, the grace of it all, was almost suffocating as I felt my breath catch in my throat and continued forward, hesitantly, breathlessly, unable to keep my eyes off the wall of windows at my side as I passed them; intricate windowsills reflecting the late sunlight, making the room glow warmly in the golden hues of sunset.

I hated that sun, I realized, feeling a familiar flicker of anger flare to life within me as I let my eyes drift across the rest of the impressive interior when I noticed a throne at the very end of the room.

I hated it despite its beauty, because of its beauty, maybe, as it concealed the horrible truth behind its god, Helios, his actions, and the suffering he had brought upon the king at my side as I came to a halt next to him, both of us staring at the throne in silence.

I bit my lip as I glanced at Wooyoung through the corner of my eye, wanting to touch him, to hold him, to comfort him, but finding myself unable to do anything else than let out a shaky breath and reach out for the throne, letting my fingers graze across the armrest; made of bones, of golden antlers, entwining in intricate shapes and patterns, identical to the crown on his head.