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The general walked around the battlefield to find survivors, checking the cold remains of both his soldiers and his enemies, even though the battle had ended and the night was falling upon the bloody land. Ignoring all of the advice against him, he still hoped to save one more soldier. The soldiers who had fought under his banner, protected him with their lives. He did not believe in the mercy of the gods. He trusted his own eyes and heart far more.

The young foot soldier prayed to the gods to take him away many times. In his eyes, the world around him had turned into a crimson mist. His damaged arms and his wounded body were paralyzed with never-ending pain. The soil below greedily drank the blood leaking from his wounds. He did not want this state to continue for so long. If his prayers could not reach the gods, he wished someone – comrade or enemy – would find him and give him the mercy of eternal peace. A forever peaceful sleep.

The voice emerged like lightning through the dark night. It was both familiar and  strange. So close, yet so far. As if its master and he were in two separate worlds.

“Here! He’s still alive!” that person shouted. “Quickly! He was badly injured! We cannot let him stay here any longer!”

No, no, no. Please. The young foot soldier thought in fright. For sure he would die soon. And he did not want that person or anyone else to blame themselves for not being able to save him. Just give me mercy. Just swing your great longsword, my lord.

“Don’t worry, I will take you out of here. I will never let you die in front of me,” said that person again, and he gently placed his hand on the broken shoulder armor of the young foot soldier. “Hang in there, Kye-sook.”

He could not recall who had said that General Yu-hon always remembered the names of each of his soldiers. That was his last thought before everything around him fell into the frosty darkness.

He closed his eyes. Tears flowed out and mixed with blood.

***

Kye-sook smelled a sweet, mixed scent of flowers, tea, and herbs. He heard a child laughing, a faint dulcet song, and the monotonous sound of a broom sweeping along the hallway. He blinked, feeling like his eyelids were stuck together. After a while, the surrounding scenery slowly became clearer. He saw the carved ceiling, long and thin silk curtains, the round-shaped windows, and the pear tree in full bloom outside, its flowers as white as clouds. There were no tattered banners, no broken swords, no bloody arrows, and no dead soldiers.

He thought the dreams were just starting. Or he had died, and now he was in heaven, where people could find eternal peace if the myth of this country was true. He would believe it if he did not feel the pain burning his body, especially his shoulders and arms.

“Hey, you’re awake!” A child’s voice rose from his right, breaking the silence. He realized that it was the child who had just been playing and laughing in the yard. It seemed he was leaning on Kye-sook’s bed, next to his pillow. Because of his stiff neck he could not turn his head to see who was speaking.

“You’re…” Kye-sook said hoarsely. His throat was dry and hurt, and he felt like all words had been erased from his mind.

“I’m Soo-won. Stay still. You’re so weak. I’ll call the servants.” The boy’s words ran together, then he hurriedly ran away, like a little squirrel. Soo-won. The name meant nothing to Kye-sook. He had never heard this name before, and he had not known any children since he became a foot soldier in the army of the Sky Tribe.

About five minutes later, the servants and the medical officer were coming. His room was full of people going in and out. Kye-sook was not able to move even a finger, so he let the servants help him to drink water, clean and apply medicine, dress the wounds, and change the clothes. When everything was done and the room was tidied up, they bowed to the important person who was standing on the doorstep, then quickly left.

“This is my dad.” The child’s voice rose again. The man who came with him sat on the wooden chair next to the bed and laid his hand on Kye-sook’s forehead, while the child grasped the curtain and looked at him fixedly. Kye-sook felt motionless. He would never forgot the feeling of this hand. It was the hand that had taken him out of the darkness of the battlefield.

“You finally wake up. You’ve slept for days. How are you feeling?” General Yu-hon asked. It seemed he was trying to lower his voice as much as he could.

“Thanks, my lord. I feel better now.” Kye-sook struggled to reply. “But here is…”

“My mansion.” Yuhon said briefly. “In Kuuto, the royal medical officer is better than the one in the barracks. Thanks to them, we could keep your injured arms instead of amputation.”

“Why me...”

“My dad said he liked you.” The child broke in.

An awkward silence immediately fell upon them.

“Daddy said so!” The child repeated and looked up at his father.

The general cleared his throat a few times, then he continued. “Soo-won, go find your mother. I have something to say to Kye-sook.”

“I hope you feel better soon. I’ll come to visit you again.” Soo-won grinned at him and ran out, vanishing as fast as lightning, but his laugh still echoed along the hallway. The son of the general. Kye-sook thought. He began to have a little respect for the child’s lovely vivacity. Everyone in Kouka knew about the love story of Lord Yu-hon and Lady Yong-hi, but no soldiers in the barracks had ever met their general’s wife and son.

“Now, where are we?” Yu-hon cleared his throat once more and leaned toward him. “There is no need to recall what happened during the battle. I brought you to my mansion for a reason. We’ll have a discussion when you completely regain your health. Now your most important task is to rest.”

Kye-sook shook his head. Without intent or control, his tears poured, flowing down his cheeks. So cold. His throat choked with the bitterness of the sorrow from the painful truth. He was not a fool to be pacified by some simple words. In the depths of his heart, he knew clearly what had happened to his body.

Even if he survived the injuries, his arms would not recover.

“My lord, you should have left me there.” Kye-sook ground his teeth. “I cannot lift my sword for you anymore. You should not have picked up a broken sword. You should not have saved a useless soldier like me.”

“How old are you?” Yu-hon asked, ignoring his words.

“Fifteen years old, my lord,” replied Kye-sook.

“Fifteen.” Yu-hon repeated. A cloud of sorrow covered his face and eyes, hiding everything in his mind. “Why did a child have to go to war like this? Do you have family?”

Kye-sook closed his eyes. Their country seriously lacked soldiers for the constant wars, so the captains did not wonder much when Kye-sook lied about his age to enlist. “I don’t have any relatives left. My family and my homeland were destroyed by the fire of war. That’s why I chose to join your army. I have nothing left to lose.”

“I’m so sorry.” The general whispered. Kye-sook felt Yu-hon’s hand, rough from holding weapons, gently stroking his short and ragged hair, then touching the thick layer of bandage that wrapped around his thin arms. “I will make Kouka a strong kingdom, so that the war will never reach our borders again, and no more children will have to go to war.”

At that moment, Kye-sook felt like he was looking up at the night sky, and the bright light of the distant galaxy shining down on him. Yu-hon’s great dream was also what he longed for after witnessing the destruction of his homeland. But unfortunately, Kye-sook is just a small, unknown soldier among the thousand other soldiers of the Sky Tribe. Unlike him, Yu-hon was a prince, a famous general, who was supported by the Five Tribes, and one day soon he would inherit the kingship and sit on the high thrones of Kouka. Kye-sook believed that the general would keep his promise and turn that dream into reality in the future. 

He suddenly burst into tears.

A wave of pain came along with sobs, making his injured body shake fiercely.

He wished he could contribute to Yu-hon’s marvelous dream, even if it was the smallest part. But he was not able to do this, he would never be of use. He was just a disabled man, a broken sword.

“Don’t cry. Your wounds will get worse.” Yu-hon said.

How can I hide my tears, when on my path there is only endless sorrow and darkness? There was no future for a homeless and disabled child. Kye-sook knew that with these damaged arms, he could no longer wield the sword or draw the bow, and he probably could not even do usual works such as chopping wood or hoeing dirt.

“We’d better talk again when you calm down, and your health improves. Now just rest.” The general rose up after rubbing Kye-sook’s head. Kye-sook never thought this tough, strong, and harsh warrior could act like a father. “I’ve heard about your intelligence, Kye-sook. I know you surely understand that I never bring an unknown soldier to my mansion because of only pure compassion.”

Then he silently left the room, leaving Kye-sook alone with his unceasing sobs. If he were in a better state, he would have understood Yu-hon’s words more clearly. But at that time, the pain confused him. He was not able to control his mind.

Kye-sook felt worse when he could not even raise his hand to wipe away his tears.

A small and cool hand gently wiped away the salty tears streaming down his cheeks. The child had returned when he was not paying attention. “Why are you crying? Did my dad scold you?” Soo-won asked, looking at him with bright eyes that were filled with worry.

Kye-sook only shook his head.

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” The child’s smile was as beautiful as the sunflower blooming in the summer’s sunshine. “Mom always says there is a way and everything will be fine.”

For an unknown reason, the wave of sadness that had been roaring within his heart slowly subsided in the presence of the little sunflower.

“It’s for you.” The child carefully placed a pear blossom branch next to his pillow. “Mom uses the pear blossom as a get-well gift for the patient. A servant told me it could drive evil and darkness away, so you can rest without disturbance.”

The soft, white petals rubbed against his wet cheeks, and his tears had stopped flowing down. Kye-sook wanted to ask the child if he had just broken this branch from the pear tree in front of the room, but fatigue and darkness soon crept over him again.

No nightmare came afterwards.

The next time Kye-sook woke up, the pear blossom branch had been solemnly put in an enamel vase on the table at the bedside.

***

The spring quickly passed, and the summer soon arrived. On the pear branches, the beautiful white blossoms had been replaced with ripe fruits.

Kye-sook had been living in the general’s mansion for half a year. His wounds were almost healed, but he still felt it was difficult to move his hands and legs. The room with the pear tree in front of the window had become his own room. General Yu-hon wanted to train him to be an advisor. Despite the state of his health, Kye-sook tried his best every day to not disappoint his savior. That was the only way for his existence to have some meaning.

Under the teaching of General Yu-hon and the scholars of the Sky Tribe, his intellect became sharper with every passing day. One night, with his voice filled with satisfaction, Yu-hon said to him, “Do you know that broken swords can be reforged into knives? The sharp knife can kill the strongest warrior as easily as the sword. And your wisdom is now your knife. Show me how far you can go, Kye-sook.”

He heard the sound of leaves rustling outside. At first, he did his best to ignore it, but after a while, it distracted him, so he could not continue reading. Kye-sook angrily stood up and pushed the window open. He meant to grumble, but luckily, he stopped in time. From the green foliage, a little hand held out a pear fruit to him.

“Do you want to take a bite?” Soo-won poked his head out of the leaves, grinning. “It’s very sweet.”

Kye-sook took it and took a bite, just to not disappoint Soo-won. “Mm. Sweet.”

“Mom said that staying in the room day after day is not good for your health.” The child said, “come take a walk with me. There are many beautiful flowers and ripe fruits in the garden.”

“But I have to finish reading this book by the day after tomorrow.”

“So take it with you.” Soo-won leaned toward him, and Kye-sook saw the spine of a book appearing under his coat. “I also bring a book. We can find a quiet place under the trees and read together.”

“It seems like I have no other choice.” Kye-sook felt a bit helpless. “Why don’t you find Min-soo or any other friends?”

“Min-soo is busy studying medicine with his mom. Hak has returned to Fuuga, and King Il is not satisfied whenever I come to visit Yona.”

Kye-sook waved his hand to signal to Soo-won that there was no need to talk anymore. He rose up and closed the window, taking his books along, and headed to the garden. He had known well what loneliness was.

Just half an hour later, they both sat on the wooden bench under the cool shade of a tree, eating pears and reading together in silence. In the air there was only the sound of rustling leaves, the song of birds, and the sound of paper flipping when they turned to the next page of a book. After a while, Kye-sook felt his back a bit heavy. He turned back and saw the child leaning against it and sleeping deeply.

The taste of peace was as sweet as the ripe pear in his hand. Kye-sook looked up at the blue summer sky and let his dream fly out into the wind and the clouds.

He wished he could become a shoulder for Soo-won to lean on whenever he felt lonely. He was willing to stand behind Soo-won, raise him up, support him, protect him, and comfort him without needing any reward.

***

Autumn was coming, bringing along the rain that filled the air with the scent of decayed leaves. The night-after-night rain sounded as gloomy as an endless melancholy melody.

Every morning, when Kye-sook looked outside the foggy window, he saw the red leaves on the trees half gone, scattering all over the hallway. The pear tree in front of his room was once covered in white blossoms and green leaves; now on its gray, slender branches, there were only six or seven withering leaves still trying to hang on. The autumn wind and rain would soon cruelly pluck them away.

Kye-sook leaned against the door, watching his breath turn into white steam in the humid air. There were too many incidents that happened in one month. King Joo-nam had passed away, and Lord Il had been chosen to succeed him instead of his eldest son, General Yu-hon, who was expected by the whole country to become the new king. Moreover, Lady Yong-hi’s illness was getting worse and worse. The general kept staying beside his wife all day; he almost forgot to eat and sleep. And Soo-won did not come to see Kye-sook as often as before.

Kye-sook sighed. The sweet taste of summer had gone. In a heartbeat, he felt like he had returned to the burned village that year, or the bloody battlefield. The new beginning that he had found in a short time was now about to slip through his fingers. Like the autumn leaves out there, one by one falling until there was nothing left. But when the spring returned, the pear tree would be in leaf again, and its blossom would rebloom. Nature could rebirth every season, unlike humans’ mortal lives.

The old wounds on his arms ached badly due to the cold and wet weather, but Kye-sook ignored them. He put on a thick coat, put up an umbrella, and went out, walking into the rain that was getting heavier. 

He had no destination in his mind.

He walked obliviously for a long, very long time, until the cold rain wetted him to the skin. The road led him through the long wooden corridors, the stone lane, the brick bridge over the silver stream, the bare forests hidden in the mist, and the town which was sleeping under the gray veil of the rain. Everything around him had turned into an endless nightmare. 

“Kye-sook!”

A large and rough hand abruptly grabbed his shoulder, a little too fierce. In a moment, Kye-sook almost lost his balance and fell backward. He turned back and faced the general, who was out of breath and also drenched in rain like him.

The wind swirled around them, so strong that it threatened to sweep them both into the river that was roaring under the bridge.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know, my lord. But I can’t stand it anymore. If I continued to stay in the mansion, I would lose my mind.”

“Can’t you stand all the things that I’ve done?”

Kye-sook shook his head. Thanks to the rain, he could hide the tears that had just begun to flow. “I can’t stand my helplessness watching the people whom I respect and love suffer. No matter how many books I’ve read, or how many strategic lessons I’ve learned, I still can’t do anything for you, for your wife… and for your son.”

The general threw away his umbrella and kneeled before Kye-sook, hugging him tightly. This was the first time he saw General Yu-hon lose his spirit and his pride. It seemed he was gradually overcome by the despair of Lady Yong-hi’s illness. “There are also things that I can’t stand, but they cannot be chased away by strength or hope, by the sword or bow. The only thing I can do is helplessly watch, and wait, while they come closer each day.” Yu-hon said under his breath. “Kye-sook, could you do something for me?”

“I owe you my life, my lord. You don’t need to ask. Just give me a command.”

“One day…” The tight grip of the general hurt his back. Kye-sook clenched his teeth, enduring it, and trying not to make any moans. “One day, if anything happens to me, I want you to stay beside my son as a loyal fellowship, give him support and protection, and never betray him no matter what. He will need your intelligence and knowledge. I want you to be an advisor who he can trust with his life.” 

You don’t need to say so. Kye-sook tightened his lips. He had been thinking about those things since the moment when Soo-won leant against his back, under the summer sky. “My lord, I will always be here, whenever you and your son need me,” he replied quietly. “Everything of mine, even my life, belongs to you two.”

It was his oath. It was engraved in his mind, written in his heart, never fading away, forever and ever.

But the ruthless destiny would not allow him to fulfill it.

Two weeks later, Kye-sook lost his most important person.

The person who saved him from the battlefield, bringing him out of the darkness, giving him a new life, raising him, and trusting him. The person who made him sometimes feel like he had a family. The person to whom he was deeply attached and respected. The person whom he wanted to serve with absolute loyalty until his last breath.

That person had died before his very eyes.

By a knife stabbing from behind. So ironic.

“Kye-sook, a sharp knife can kill the strongest warrior as easily as the sword.”

And Kye-sook could not help him as any other warrior would.

His injured arms did not let him draw the sword, even once, to protect the person who was once his whole world.

If Yu-hon had chosen another servant to escort him – except Kye-sook – he probably would never have died. How bitter the truth was.

***

Kye-sook once wished for death. In the mid winter, when snow fell heavily all day like frosty tears. He wanted to free himself from an everlasting sorrow, as he had wished on the battlefield in the past. The servants of Yu-hon forced him to retell the story of their general’s death a thousand times. Each time, every word he spoke turned into sharp blades, cutting through his small, injured heart, and reminding him how helpless he was. There were hundreds of blades like that; they split him apart both day and night. He had rarely slept since the funeral, and he could not remember what he ate every day. 

He feared glances. There were many feelings in people’s eyes when they glanced at him: anguish, sorrow, grief, anger… but all had the same accusation hidden behind them. Kye-sook could easily see that everyone in the mansion, even Lady Yong-hi, who was very gentle, had their own reasons to blame him, though they all said it was not his fault. Especially Soo-won. They had not met for about three weeks. Kye-sook wanted to see him and talk to him, but he also did not know what to say if they two met by chance in the hallway.

The truth was, he could not face Soo-won or anyone. He could not keep the vow to Lord Yu-hon. He could not stay here any longer.

Kye-sook lifted his head to the gray sky filled with snow. Tears fell down and turned to ice dust, and the wind soon blew them away. He had known no one visiting this desolate forest in the winter. So, no one would find him either. He had heard that freezing to death was a very quick and peaceful death. People would fall asleep before they could feel cold or pain.

He sat down, then lay down on the snowy ground. The white and soft blanket slowly covered his body without making any sound. The world around him was immersed in dead silence. All the faint echoes were immediately drowned out when they appeared, even the sound of his weak heartbeat. Kye-sook began to feel sleepy. Soon, everything would come to an end.

His sight was gradually blurred. The falling snowflakes turned into white petals of pear blossoms, as fair as they were in some spring of the past, when the cruel hand of destiny had not yet caught up with him.

When Kye-sook woke up again, as if he had just escaped from a nightmare, he found himself in his own room, surrounded by many blankets, clothes, and furs to keep him warm.

Snow was dropping on the bare pear branches outside the round window, and torches were burning brightly in the corridor. The candlelight and torchlight illuminated a similar figure sleeping next to his bed. Soo-won’s soft, silky hair spread on the pillow, and the small hand clutched his sleeve tightly, not letting it loose even when the child slept.

He should have known that Soo-won’s keen eyes missed nothing that happened around him.

Kye-sook sniffed heavily. The cold air rushed into his chest and hurt his lungs. After a few breaths, he finally calmed himself.

Now he could see the way clearly. There was no need to debate more.

He would live. He had to live. For this child only.

In that winter, Kye-sook buried one part of his humanity – the part of his weakness, uselessness, shame and despair – under the cold snow in a desolate forest where no one came.

***

Ten years later.

The new king stood on the top of the highest hill, letting the sunrays of the pale dawn pour down his body. From here, he could overlook both the capital and the wide sky above. He had always loved this hilltop, where the thickest fog could not reach and the strongest wind was blowing all the time. The only place where he could be free. He often came here alone, not sharing it with anyone else, not even his two close friends. But after the coronation, he wanted one more person to know about this place.

The advisor stood quietly behind the new king. His long black hair and his dark cloak almost dissolved in the darkness under the canopy of the old forest, where the faint light of the sunrise had not reached. From here, the figure in front seemed to be covered in a shimmering halo, as if his king were shining himself. The king was the only light that lit his life since he lost Lord Yu-hon. He was willing to be in this position, standing behind his king, following him, and chasing his light forever.

The king slowly turned back, looking straight at the advisor with his bright eyes. “Advisor Kye-sook, come here and watch the sunrise with me. We are not in the castle or the mansion, so you don’t need to keep distance with me like that.”

“This is my position, Your Majesty.”

“Every noble in the royal court would have eagerly accepted my invitation. To them, standing beside the king is a great favor. You’re the only one who refused.”

“I’m not the same as them. I promised to your father, and I knew where my place was.” Kye-sook bowed his head. “But if that is an order from the king…”

“Alright, I’ve known who I can trust,” Soo-won broke in. “Of course, I have a reason to bring you to my secret hilltop. No one knows about its existence. I think you understand what it means, right?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I will always look in the same direction as you. You’re the only one who can inherit an unfinished dream of Lord Yu-hon and make it come true.”

“I can’t carry that dream alone, Kye-sook.” The king smiled gently, but his eyes had no trace of happiness within. “Will you still follow me on this path, even if there is not only light and glory ahead? Now everything is only at the beginning, and it’s a long way to get the final victory for Kouka.”

“I made my choice a long time ago, Your Majesty. I will follow you, to wherever the path leads us.”

“I believe you.” Soo-won stepped nearer and put his hand on the advisor’s shoulder. Suddenly, he looked so sad. “For this day, I’ve sacrificed everything, even throwing my precious friendship away. You’re the only fellow I have on this journey. Promise me that you will never betray me, Kye-sook.”

“I promise.” Kye-sook said and gently touched the hand on his shoulder.

The advisor looked at his king, understanding the emotions and memories that rose within those bright eyes.

Kye-sook remembered the feeling he had when Lord Yu-hon brought him to his mansion. The feeling only appeared between members of a family. It seemed like thousands of years had passed. Those two children were once happy, loving, broken, hoping, resentful, and doing many things heartlessly. In the past, there was a period when they could not face each other without shame and grief. But now they could once again look straight into each other’s eyes, silently sharing all of their old memories and feelings together.

The brilliant sun was now rising high above the east, dispelling the fog at the foot of the hill. Between the green of the forests and rice fields, beneath the dark brown of the dew-wet ground and the yellow of the straw-roofed houses, they could see the pear trees that were in blooming season. From here, thousands of tiny, pure white flowers seemed like clouds in the sky.

The light of dawn reddened the pear blossoms, as if each petal was bleeding.

They both turned their backs on the splendid dawn and walked into the dark forest.

Since Lord Yu-hon passed away, during the ten springs that had come and passed, Kye-sook never lifted his head to see the pear blossom again.

***

“He is always so cold and ruthless.”

“Isn’t he holding too much power for an advisor?”

“Why does His Majesty let him control anything in the castle?”

“Is it wise to entrust the authority of the army to him?”

“Look at his behavior. I guess he and his king are the same. They may bring war and doom to us.”

The similar whispers, filled with hostility and suspicion, followed along the hoof as Kye-sook led the troop through the small town. Even though he tried not to pay attention, those words automatically fell into his ears. The advisor raised his head, keeping his cool as usual, and continuing to go straight forward. He would not let any rumors, whispers, or gossip stop him.

“These people are so rude and disrespectful. Would you mind if I silence them?” The soldier behind him murmured, grasping the spear tightly in his hand. “They don’t know who was protecting them from enemies and rebels.”

“Just ignore them. They can say whatever they want,” said Kye-sook coldly. “Don’t let them accuse us of using violence to suppress people. Those rude words can’t do us any harm.”

“But…”

“Be quiet. We need to return to Hiryuu Castle as soon as possible. I have more important things to report to King Soo-won than some backbiting whispers.”

Soon, the noisy town was left behind. The winding road ran through many fields and orchards. The dusk was falling, and they saw a thin line of smoke lingering above the roofs far from the right. Kye-sook noticed a farmer picking fruit in his garden, filling the bamboo baskets next to him with pears and plums. Two children, perhaps his son and daughter, were sitting on the lowest branch, sharing the remaining small pears. Their laughter, as clear as the sound of the stream, echoed on the road where the troop was. Kye-sook felt like he could hear the crunch and taste the sweetness of the pear.

So peaceful.

Like a very old summer far away in his memory, the summer when Kye-sook pushed open the window and saw a small hand giving him a pear.

He would not allow regret. If he could bring victory and peace to this country, he would stand against any gossip, any battle, any darkness, and any grief.

“Advisor Kye-sook?” The soldier called, pulling him out of the faint dream that had just come for a moment. “Are you okay? You look so pale.”

“I’m fine. Just some thoughts about our enemies. Let’s move on.” The advisor shook his head, driving away the remaining pieces of the dream, and urging his horse onward, towards the capital. There was no way to return to those old days. If he looked back, he would be lost in the shadow.

The sweet taste of the pear that day had turned to the bitter taste of tears.

“You’ve returned, Kye-sook. Come here.” Soo-won spoke out as soon as the advisor arrived at his study and knocked at the door.

Kye-sook entered and found his king sitting at the low table. As usual, there were thousands of books and parchments piled up and scattered all around him. This study was truly a mess, a nightmare for people who wanted anything to be neat like Kye-sook, and it took him a long while to get used to it.

The advisor frowned, glancing at the candle on the table, between letters and reports. He wondered if Soo-won was aware of the impending danger. The piles of books and papers around could catch fire at any time.

“Your Majesty, we’ve checked as you commanded. We found no more signs of the rebels or the spies of our enemy,” Kye-sook started reporting.

“Good. How did the troop go? You look a bit tired. Did you encounter any problems on the way?”

“Everything went well, except…”

The advisor paused. He had just slipped his tongue. It seemed like the whispers of those people in the town had affected him more than he thought. He bit his lips, preparing an excuse to leave. King Soo-won did not need to hear about his personal matters, and he had no desire to complain before his king.

“Except what?” asked Soo-won.

“Nothing, Your Majesty. Just a personal concern. I can handle it myself.”

The king gazed at him fixedly for a while. Kye-sook felt like Soo-won’s bright eyes penetrated through his heart. Then Soo-won stood up.

“Drink with me?”

“What did you say?” Kye-sook raised his eyebrows.

“Let’s have a drink together,” Soo-won repeated with a grin. “For the celebration of our first victory. I want General Joo-doh to be here as well, but he was invited by the soldiers in the barracks, and I guess now they will all get drunk. It’s been a long time since I drank with someone. Come on.”

“I don’t like wine very much, but if you say so,” said Kye-sook. “Shall we move to that small table under the window?” He frowned and looked at the candle on the table next to him once more. Papers and wine could definitely double the risk of a fire. 

“Fine. It was a bit narrow here,” Soo-won said and eagerly ran to call the servants to bring wine, not noticing Kye-sook’s sigh behind him. The advisor told himself that he would drink less. He did not want to lose his self-control and wake up with a bad headache the next morning.

It turned out that his worry was unnecessary, because the king only brought a small decanter of wine and two tiny cups that could fit in the palm of his hand. They sat opposite, looking at the flickering light of fireflies outside the window, listening to the tender song of leaves rushing and the wind blowing through the eaves, and letting the taste of the wine warm them to the skin.

Kye-sook felt a bit strange with this situation. He did not think they could enjoy the peace that they had not known for a very long time, while government affairs were still weighing heavily on their shoulders and the dark cloud of war had not vanished away. 

“Now, could you tell me about your ‘personal concern’?” Soo-won put down his half-empty cup and propped his chin in one hand. “Don’t be shy. A king must care about everything and everyone around him.”

“As I said, it was just my own problem, not worth worrying about. Please don’t mind it, Your Majesty.”

“But it seems like you’re still keeping your mind on it.”

“When I passed through the town…” Kye-sook sighed helplessly. “I’ve heard some rumors and whispers. They said that you gave me too much power, it’s bad for you to have an advisor like me. And we may bring war and doom to this country.”

“Oh. That’s surprising. I didn’t think you would be concerned about those annoying words.”

“I don’t care what they said about me. But if people insult you because of me… If there is something wrong with the way I handle the affairs of the Sky Tribe, I hope you will reconsider. If what I did affects your reputation, I will accept any punishment.”

“I’ve said that I trusted you. You know those are not nonsense words, Advisor Kye-sook. You’re doing very well.” Soo-won looked straight into his eyes. “You’d do better to ignore all of the whispers. I knew what I did when I authorized you to manage the Sky Tribe’s business.” 

“I get it,” Kye-sook said, bowing his head. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” The hot and bitter taste of wine in his mouth turned into sweetness. His king trusted him, and that was enough for him.

They talked for hours, until the wine decanter was empty and the night dew began to fall on the tiled roof. Kye-sook stood up, closing the study door to prevent a cold wind. When turning back, he saw his king was falling asleep with his head leaning against the table. In fact, Soo-won was not good at drinking, so he often used tea for celebration instead of wine. Perhaps tonight he needed wine and someone’s company to forget the void in his heart and also the hidden feelings that Kye-sook never dared to mention.

“Every time we have a drink, you always fall asleep before me…” the advisor murmured, tiding up and putting the wine tray aside. He sat still, hearing the soft breaths of each other. Soo-won’s sleeping face was relaxed and peaceful, as if every worry and sadness in the daytime had been chased away. It seemed like he was having a beautiful dream. At that moment, the king looked like the child who fell asleep next to Kye-sook’s bed in the past. Kye-sook did not want to let his king sleep in the study all night, but he was reluctant to wake him up as well. The war was still threatening the borders of Kouka, so in the near future, Soo-won may not have many chances to sleep in peace like this.

After taking off his cloak and putting it on Soo-won’s shoulder, Kye-sook went to the hallway to call for more guards, lowering his voice for not waking up his king. Then the advisor returned to the study, ready to sit beside his king all night.

The moment when they had a drink together was really short and strange, but in a heartbeat, Kye-sook could feel a tranquility and delight rising within his heart, almost like the pure happiness of the gone days.

A thin veil of mist had covered the window. Kye-sook touched the frame. He could no longer see the light from fireflies and stars outside. Before him, there was only endless darkness, like his path ahead. But he was willing to follow Soo-won into this darkness to protect his only light of hope in this world.

One more summer night quietly passed.

***

The war was taking longer than they had expected; a lot of battles and calculations almost took all of their time. Until the leaves changed color and the forest completely turned red, they suddenly realized how quickly the days had passed, and the end of the year was coming nearer.

After many years of seemingly sleeping, the merciless hand of destiny returned quietly and quickly, like the change of seasons.

It began with a sudden dizziness that appeared while the king was working, but it did not last too long. Soo-won said it was caused from being sleep-deprived and the damp weather of late autumn. At first, Kye-sook believed those words, but then the king’s pain got worse and returned more often, even though he had rested and Min-soo gave him medicine every day.

A deep fear gradually rose in the hearts of the advisor and the servants who had served General Yu-hon before. They all knew about the illness of Lady Yong-hi. However, they still try to suppress the fear, forcing themselves to believe, with wild hope, that the worst would not come true.

Until one night. Kye-sook could not recall what he was discussing with Soo-won in the study that night. He only remembered the moment when the king said his head ached, and then he suddenly fell forward. The advisor hurriedly held him up, realizing in panic that his king was covered in cold sweat, and that his body was a lot thinner and weaker than before.

“Your Majesty!” Kye-sook embraced him and sat down, letting Soo-won rest his head on his shoulder. “Anyone els…”

“No… don’t call… anyone else…” Soo-won broke in and grasped his hand. “We absolutely… cannot let anyone know about it…”

“It is…” Kye-sook frowned. The king’s grip became tighter and tighter. It hurt him badly, like Yuhon’s, the day when the general asked him to swear to protect Soo-won. He bit his lips. Every word that he intended to say now choked in his throat. He could not say the bitter truth out loud.

“The Crimson Illness,” Soo-won continued. His voice was the slightest whisper. “The illness that comes from my mother’s blood.”

Kye-sook could not hear anything more.

His ears were ringing; no sound could fall into them. The world around them immediately sank into deadly silence, as if they were at the bottom of a deep well.

It seemed like a thousand years had passed while Kye-sook tried to find his voice again.

Each word uneasily slipped out of his trembling lips with an endless pain.

“What can I do, Your Majesty? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Just pretend as if this night never existed, and you never heard about my illness,” Soo-won said, seeming like he had regained a bit of consciousness. His tight grip slowly became loose. “The symptoms are still not too severe. I can hide it for a few more months until the war ends. Based on my mother’s condition at that time, I think it won’t progress too quickly at this early stage.”

Kye-sook closed his eyes. Through his mind flashed the image of the autumn pear tree shedding leaves. General Yu-hon had no longer been himself after Lady Yong-hi had fallen ill. Now Kye-sook could completely understand his feelings. Every word of assurance had now become meaningless. So were strength, effort, and hope. Nothing in this world could cure the illness of King Hiryuu’s descendant.

Calm down. Not this time. The advisor ordered his wavering heart. He would not let himself be swept away by the wave of sadness. Calm down. You’re the only one who knows about it. His Majesty needs your support. If even you lost your self-control…

“Please get some rest, Your Majesty.” Kye-sook heard his voice a bit strange, as if someone were speaking for him. Someone who was cold and heartless. “Leave the Sky Tribe and the war to me and General Joo-doh. You’d better take care of yourself.”

“Thank you…” Soo-won seemed too weak to discuss further. “Call Min-soo for me, please. And you need some rest too.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Calm down. It’s unacceptable for you to cry or scream right now. Kye-sook took a breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside him. “Let me take you to your chamber. Lean on me.”

“Thank you,” Soo-won whispered. A dark cloud of sorrow covered his fair face. “Kye-sook, please keep this a secret.”

“You know I will. No need to say anything more.”

After taking Soo-won to his own chamber, calling Min-soo, and arranging the guards, Kye-sook quietly left. His shoulder was still hurt due to the king’s tight grip. He could feel the despair within Soo-won’s fingers burning his flesh.

He stepped into the cold night. Everything around him was soaked after the heavy rain. He heard a gloomy sound of water dripping from the eaves like a requiem of the night. The thick mist was slowly rising on the road before him; he could only see the dots of light from the patrol’s lanterns floating in the mist. They went farther and farther away, then disappeared into the darkness.

The damp and cold air after the rain could not relieve the burning pain within him. Kye-sook kept walking, like a sleepwalker, under the starless sky. His head ached badly, and his mind was blurred as if the fog had covered it. When he regained consciousness, he found himself in the mansion of General Yu-hon. And across the yard, about ten steps away, was his old room. Where he used to live for years, when his world had not been destroyed.

He thought no one had used it for a long time. The door was sealed, and the brick doorstep was covered in a thick layer of dust. The round wooden window looked bare and lonely when the pear tree in front was no longer there. Kye-sook did not know whether the servants had cut it down or whether it died down after the room’s last master left.

“Why…”

The advisor leaned against the wall, next to the window, looking up at the gloomy sky filled with storm clouds. He had no more tears to cry and no more strength to scream anymore.

“Why…?”

Kye-sook buried his face in his hands and curled up. The night wind was rising and swirling fiercely around him, as if it wanted to sweep away the whole world. He clenched his fists, and his nails pierced into his flesh. It hurt, but not as much as the insane pain that was about to tear his heart apart.

Why did everything turn out like this? Once again, he could not do anything but helplessly watch the only light of his life fade away before his eyes. Through ten years, he had been trying his best. He had stepped on all the rules and lines of the world, calculating and destroying many things heartlessly, going ahead regardless of danger and defying everything. He was willing to walk in the dark and accept all the curses on himself, just to protect the most important person in his life…

Soo-won was the only king he wanted to serve until his last breath.

The person whom he loved and cherished.

After all, there were still things beyond humans’ control that even the best advisor could not foresee.

The rain was returning, and it was falling heavier than before. Kye-sook closed his eyes, letting the cold rain freely pour over him until he was soaked to his skin.

***

“Your Majesty, it happens only once in a blue moon, right?”

“What are you talking about, General Joo-doh?”

“It’s rare to see that our sharp-tongued advisor is absent from the meeting. He always follows you as your shadow. I have a feeling that Advisor Kye-sook will come in time no matter what, even if the sky falls and the world collapses.”

“Sometimes people have problems.” Soo-won said, without a gentle smile as usual, and the general knew something was up. Then the king continued. “I’m going to see him. Would you like to go with me?”

“I will come later, Your Majesty. I have to train new soldiers.” The general said with a bow and quickly left. Soo-won waited for him to go away before sighing. He could guess what happened with Kye-sook after Min-soo told him that his advisor had caught a cold.

He did not want to put the burden of his illness on the shoulders of his advisor too soon. Especially when Kye-sook had never stopped blaming himself for not being able to protect Yu-hon.

But in the depths of his heart, he knew he did not have much time left. He could not restrain the fear, the sadness, and the loneliness. He just wanted to share them with someone he could trust, someone who made him feel like family.

Even if those feelings would break both of their souls.

***

In a terrible fever, Kye-sook felt a hand gently touching his hair. Like General Yu-hon’s touch when he found the dying foot soldier on the battlefield. The advisor could not say whether this was a dream or a reality. His head was hot and painful; the fever made him delirious, and he saw illusions all day and night. But the worst part of a cold was the bad cough. He felt like there was a heavy stone on his chest. Kye-sook knew wandering around in the rainy night and then getting sick was the stupidest thing he had ever done, but it was done. He could not turn back the time.

He did not want to think anymore, but the memories still came along with the fever and the headaches. The Crimson Illness. General Yu-hon’s rough hand. His vow. The sweetness of that summer. The pear tree that was cut down a long time ago. The cold fog and the autumn rain. The firefly light flickered outside the window. The king’s gentle smile. A branch of pear blossoms on his pillow. The half-empty cup of wine. The white snow slowly falling on the desolate forest.

He wished he could forget all of those.

Someone had just changed a wet cloth for him, soothing his hot forehead.

“Min-soo?” asked the advisor, and he immediately regretted it because a cough came right after. When it temporarily stopped, he blinked his watery eyes, realizing the person sitting by his bed. Neither Min-soo nor any of the servants.

“Your… Majesty?” he asked hoarsely. “Why are you here…?”

“I came to visit you, obviously. How are you feeling now?” The king said with his usual warm smile. As if the night when he told him about the Crimson Illness had never existed.

“You should… you should rest… Your illness…” Kye-sook said uneasily. His voice trembled. He disliked when others saw him weak and sick, he would not let anyone visit him until he felt better. But Soo-won was always an exception. “Please… let me… alone. You might… be infected…”

“I’m fine. Keep that depressed face no more.” Soo-won leaned forward to change the wet cloth on his forehead. “I want to take care of you and everyone around me as long as I can. Just rest, Kye-sook. Don’t think too much.”

This person has inherited not only the strength and pride of General Yu-hon but also the gentleness and kindness of Lady Yong-hi. Kye-sook thought, when Soo-won opened the lid of the small bowl on the table. The sweet and warm aroma immediately spread all over the room.

“Baesuk. A pear steamed with honey and ginger,” said the king. “It will be good for your cold. It can soothe the sore throat and cure the cough quicker than medicines.”

“Where did you get pear in this season?” Kye-sook could not help but ask, though his throat was hurting and the fever made his mind vague.

“There are some lands beyond the mountain where the farmers can grow pears out of season.” Soo-won said briefly. “My mom often made it when I had a cold. Really effective. You should eat it when it’s still warm; you’ll feel better soon. In the meeting today, someone missed your voice and your ironic words very much.”

“I can guess who.” Kye-sook muttered and slowly sat up. He did not miss Soo-won’s glance. His king was definitely thinking Let me spoon-feed you. “Your Majesty, I can eat by myself. Your thought is on your face, and it makes me shiver.”

“Well, well. Just because I have such a rare chance to take care of you.” Soo-won smiled. “It’s hot. Be careful.”

Kye-sook ate a bite of pear. It was soaked in honey and smelled of ginger. The mixture of sweet, delicate, warm, and strong flavors immediately soothed his throat.

So sweet.

It tasted like the peacefulness of the good old days.

It was so sweet that it made him want to cry.

“Kye-sook,” It had been a long time since Soo-won called him just by name. After the coronation, the king always attached his name with the word “advisor” in front, as if to remind him of his current position and the distance that had grown between them.

“I’m so sorry for obligating you to carry my burden. Please don’t torment yourself more.”

Kye-sook shook his head. He wished he could hold the other’s hands tightly.

“I can carry it.”

Two days later, the advisor was present at the meeting again. There was no trace of the cold left. He still kept his usual cool, his sharp tongue, his meticulous plans, his effective military tactics, and his mind.

And hid a broken heart behind those.

***

“Kye-sook, I have no time left…”

“Please don’t say so, Your Majesty.” The advisor begged, holding his king’s cold hands in his own, trying to warm it up, but he was unable to chase the cold of death away.

“Kouka now becomes a great kingdom; our borders are no longer threatened. Our dream… I couldn’t have made it true without you, the generals, and the soldiers of the Five Tribes. Thank you so much for going with me this far on the lonely path where lay only darkness and war. I know you have suffered a lot.”

“Your Majesty, you should rest. It’s not the time to talk about these things. My life belongs to you, always. You don’t need to thank me.”

“I have to say… as soon as I can… because in the next few days, the pain may take my consciousness away…” A slight smile flashed over his lips and lit up his pale face for a moment. “You’ve helped me a lot. Both my father and I put our burdens on Kye-sook’s shoulders… How cruel it was…”

“No, I did everything by my own will. I owe you two my life, my dream, my position… but I could not protect both of you.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s just the mercilessness of fate. Kye-sook, if anything happens to me, could you please do for me one last thing…”

“You don’t need to ask me. Just give me a command, Your Majesty.”

“Please… Live for yourself once.”

“No, I can’t do this, Your Majesty. Living for myself has no meaning when I lose my only light in this dark world.”

His voice slipped into silence. There was no response. The king fell asleep in pain again.

Kye-sook buried his face in the cold hands that he was holding. He sat still for a long time, while Soo-won’s words kept echoing in his mind. They both knew that the end would come soon, and the day of farewell was fast approaching. They both knew that a long time ago…

Why is it still so painful?

He reluctantly let go of Soo-won’s hand and stood up. He pulled the blanket to cover his king, whispering the wish of recovery, though he knew his voice would never reach Soo-won.

It was snowing outside. The snow was thick and cold as the year Lord Yu-hon passed away. Kye-sook walked out into the middle of the large yard in front of the castle. In a twinkle, his lonely footprints were quickly covered by snow.

“Advisor Kye-sook! Have you lost your mind?”

Someone screamed behind the veil of snow. The advisor did not turn back, until a thick fur cloak was thrown over him, covering him from head to toe. Kye-sook raised his eyes and saw the angry face of Joo-doh.

“What are you doing? Do you want to freeze to death?” The general gritted his teeth. “Our tribe has enough to worry about. If even you fell ill now, everything would be in chaos. We need you.”

Right. They need me. Many people needed him. In the past, in the present, and in the future. General Yu-hon. King Soo-won. The Sky Tribe. Kouka Kingdom. They all needed him. He would live. He must live for them.

But there were many times when Kye-sook just wanted to quietly go somewhere far away, to a distant and silent place, where no sorrow or tear could reach, where he could disappear into the field of white snow and forget everything in this suffering world. Like he had wished while lying down on the ground in the desolate forest, waiting for his own death.

When he finally reached his last dream after years of calculating and fighting, he also knew that the most important person would soon leave him.

The taste of victory was more bitter than he thought.

“I cannot stand it, General Joo-doh.” Each word slipped from his lips, burning like hot iron and sharp as a spear. He also said the same words to General Yu-hon in the autumn rain that year. “I cannot stand it.”

“I understand,” the general said, placing his hand on Kye-sook’s shoulder. “But there are many things that neither sword nor tactics can prevent. We’ve tried our best. It’s not your fault.”

Then the general turned away, leaving him alone, and soon his figure faded into the snow.

Kye-sook lifted his head up. Everything around him was covered in the mourning color of the winter. Snowflakes fell on his long black hair, slowly melting on his face, and flowing along his cheek, replacing his tears that had long since dried up.

“What can I…”

The snow was now almost reaching his knees.

“…do for you?”

The only response he received was the mournful silence from the white world around him and from the sky filled with scattered clouds and snowflakes over his head.

Then the faint echoes of his sad question quickly disappeared into the deep solitude of the winter.

End.