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“Bastard, you set me up.” Rang clutched the door frame with all his strength.
His master barely glanced up at his entrance. “The artifact needed to be claimed. You knew it would be guarded.”
“A few,” he groused, “dozen at the most, but not like that. You knew, didn’t you?” The fox’s gravelly voice accused his master.
Hae-ryong shrugged unfazed, “I suspected. Why else would I send you? You are a gumiho, are you not?”
“Half. Half gumiho. I’m not invincible. Hell even a full blooded gumiho can be killed.”
“See? Even as an inferior fox, you managed to recover the artifact. You should be proud.”
“Proud?” he spat. As if to emphasize his struggle, he launched into a coughing fit filled with his blood. The crimson liquid added more stains to his already bloodied and torn hanbok. Sliding to the floor, he used the wooden frame to support him. He barely had enough strength to toss the satchel over containing his prize. “What is it and why did you need it?”
Hae-ryong did get up then to retrieve the artifact. Once in his hands, he smiled greedily. Turning to head back to his desk, he countered, “Why do you want to know?”
“Bastard. You sent me to a temple filled with a hundred supernatural warriors to get it. I have a right to know what I gave my life for.”
“It’s nothing important to you.” The older man dismissed. “I merely wanted it for my collection. And you owed me a favor.”
Rang couldn’t stop the laugh, that came out more like a sob, from escaping. “A favor? Because you couldn’t do it yourself, you used me?”
“That’s the beauty of the contract, for saving your life I can have you do the tasks that are beyond my talents.”
“Too bad. Looks like this is the only one you will get out of me.” Slumping to the floor, his breathing became even more labored. With his task done, what little strength managed to get him back fled. Lifting a shaky hand, that golden ring flickered to life. After a few seconds it began to dissipate into the air. Allowing his arm to drop onto his chest, Rang sighed.
It had been a few years since his encounter with Yeon and his enslavement to this traitor. And every single second of every single day of that time had been a new level of torture. The instant the dark priest revived him, strange ideas, thoughts, memories flooded his mind leaving a residue he can never wash clean. He had done his best to entrap them in the corner where he keeps the horrible years he was determined to forget.
But nothing could ever truly free him. Not from the contract, the memories, the deeds he has committed. Nothing but death could free him now. Which was a good thing it was coming for him. His body felt lighter. His heart pounded in his chest, though it seemed weaker than before. His breathing was more erratic. All the signs that death was almost there.
With the ring gone, contract fulfilled, Rang wished he had enough strength to visit his brother. To tell him that he was sorry for everything. That he should have realized that Yeon wouldn’t approve of his method at the village. For being too weak to save himself and others after the fire. For not fighting for his life in that forest of monsters. He should have been better, stronger. Then he wouldn’t have had to follow the traitor’s commands. Show up only to torment his only family. Never allowed to explain why he had become such a twisted creature.
If only Yeon knew he was free, they could try to be brothers again. If only…
“You’re wrong.” A deep voice taunted from above. “This is only the beginning for you.”
Cracking open his eyes, he could barely focus on the figure let alone the strange red object in his master’s hand. However, the moment he recognized it, he was desperately trying to scoot away. Trembling “no’s” falling from his lips.
“Oh yes. Your usefulness is far from over.”
“God no.”
“I’m your god now.” The traitor lorded over him. “Only I can say when you live and die. And I will not let you go so easy.”
Unable to scramble away, Rang knew his torment wasn’t over. The traitor kneeled down, his knee pressing hard into the younger man’s chest. He placed the lantern flower under the fox’s nose and watched it work its magic. “You’re mine. And I say you live.”
Panicked, he sucked in a breath inhaling that dark mist. The half breed could feel it course through him, energy surging, his pain fleeting in the wake of a new lifespan. Springing up to a seat, Rang was in a similar position to when they met. Glaring at the man hovering over him, Rang growled in anger.
Hae-ryong lifted his hand with a smile. There around his finger that familiar glow returned. Rang didn’t bother to look at his own hand. He could feel the leash returning, along with that slithering sensation in his mind. “You see, you will only be free when I allow it.”
“Bastard, I hate you.”
“Go ahead. I don’t care if you love or hate me, as long as you fulfill your obligations.” The traitor went back to his desk.
“Why? Why are you doing this to me?” The young man snapped. “I never asked for your help. Why didn’t you just walk away and let me die?
At that, the older man paused, considering more than he was ready to share now. At last, he said, “Truthfully, there are several reasons. Maybe one day you will understand them all. For now know that you are unique. And unique is valuable.”
“I am nothing of worth.” Rang grumbled more to himself.
“On the contrary,” Hae-ryong grinned, “there are only a few that understand and recognize it. And the best way to keep those threats at bay is by binding you to me. That way I can protect you.”
“Protect me?” A sardonic laugh bubbled out of the half breed. “This isn’t protection, its slavery. How long do you intend to keep me bound?”
Hae-ryong declared firmly, closing the distance between them once more. “As long as I must. There will come a time when all will be clear and I will ask one final favor. Until then, do as you’re told and I will give you many opportunities to repay your brother for what he did to you.”
“Don’t bring up Lee Yeon!” It wasn’t that Rang was mad at the red head. Well, maybe a little. It was the pain he felt at that betrayal that still plagued him. That his brother found and condemned him at the god’s command rather than joined him. After thinking he was dead, Rang just wanted his brother back. It hurt thinking that Yeon wanted nothing more to do with him.
That’s why he lashed out, not out of anger but heartbreak. It was only because they always mistook his feelings for anger that prevented them from seeing his real weakness. If they knew, he could only imagine how they would use it against him. They already twist his words enough.
A hand clasped his shoulder. “Come now. You will have your revenge. Until then rest up and build up your skills, then you may actually be able to defeat him when the time comes.” Patting the fox’s back, Hae-ryong stood tall, collected his artifact and headed towards his chambers to add it to his collection.
For several long minutes, Rang sat there fuming. If he had any anger he was harboring it was toward the traitor. This entire situation was unnatural and wrong. Being saved by a human was one thing, the contract would eventually end at death if not used before then. By this jerk wasn’t any normal human, he had a way of prolonging his life, or anyone’s life in fact. And with infinite lives, this contract was cursed on multiple levels. Proven only minutes ago. Trapped. Always trapped.
A puff of dirt clouded the air from where his fist slammed on the ground. Repeating the action a dozen times until the side of his hand was bleeding, it was all he could do to get out his frustration. Glancing at his bloodied fist, he wished it could have been that bastard he had hit. As if to remind him, the glimmering ring flared for a moment before fading away again. Snarling, he pushed himself up to his feet and headed for his room.
He did need to change and get cleaned up. And the fox was still exhausted from his near death experience. While the flower saved you from immediate danger, it did not take it all away. Even after the last time, a dull ache remained across his abdomen when only the scar was visible. The blood loss that nearly prevented him from returning still lingered.
Feeling better after he was done washing up, he crashed in his bed, curled up on his side. In the silence that settled over him, Rang closed his eyes, bracing against the new memories. The sacrificed lifespan isn’t the only thing that comes flooding in, but also the invasive thoughts and memories of that person.
The first flower he consumed held the life of a petty thief that had managed to cross the traitor. He had no ambitions other than finding the next big score. It was easy to push them to the back of his mind. He didn’t know what to expect this time, although the brief glimpses made him shrink. Images of a young boy danced across his mind’s eye. One that didn’t look much different from himself at that age.
He couldn’t have been much more than ten. One of several children, albeit the youngest. Their parents were drowning in debt and bad harvests made it hard to feed the whole family. Frustrations ran high and parents and older siblings would lash out at the littlest things. Desperate for food, the couple decided that they needed to lessen the need. When a sharp looking monk wandered into their town, they begged and pleaded, eventually able to negotiate a sale of their son. Little did they know that the child would soon be turned into a flower, his life stolen to save another.
Rang never noticed the tears that slipped free as the memories faded into dreams. He understood the boy’s confusion and pain. The abandonment that hangs over you like a shroud. The loss of oneself. That child would never have the opportunity to grow up, to break free, to become something more. Rang had stolen that chance. And it made him sick.
The half fox would not need another flower for almost 50 odd years. Once again his master sent him on a retrieval mission, this time to obtain a family heirloom from a family of supernatural creatures. A large number of supernatural creatures that were older, stronger and angrier. Once again he barely made it back alive.
The flower he was given that time made him feel dirty for many reasons. It had been a soldier in the king’s army. One who had risen in the ranks and thought himself invincible and above the laws. Any time his unit was sent out, he enjoyed the spoils of war, raping and pillaging all he wanted. Often not bothering to share any treasures he brought home with the king. But his boasting quickly reached the King’s ears and Hae-ryong, a servant at the time, was sent to deal with him. The soldier was turned into a flower and ultimately given to Rang.
The memories he witnessed as he recovered left stains on his soul. He had been a victim enough to know their pain. The horror of having control taken from them. To be treated lower than dirt. And to feel the monsters joy as he took and stole, churned his stomach. He was actually sick from the experience for a few days before he emerged from his room.
After that, he decided no more. He would never accept another flower. He would sooner die. Almost a hundred years passed and Rang had fought desperately enough to never get too close to death. However, he was not privileged to all the nuances of the flowers. He had noticed on several occasions how the traitor would seek out and use the flowers but he had no idea why or when.
Regrettably, the fox would learn the hard way. Waking one day, his gut hurt, more than the usual aches. A few other old wounds joined soon after. It didn’t take long before the pain became all consuming. His body was buckling under the agony. He still did his best to perform his duties, but his concentration was practically non-existent. While Hae-ryong was instructing him on his next task, the half fox collapsed.
The traitor hovered over him, “What’s wrong?”
Unable to speak coherent thoughts, Rang mumbled, “hurts.” His hand lay against his stomach. He felt something warm and sticky on his fingers. Raising it up to see, he was surprised to find blood.
Above him, the older man clicked his tongue. “Aish. Your flower has run out. Why didn’t you tell me?” Then the traitor scurried off and returned holding a new flower.
Immediately Rang tried to back away, fighting the inevitable. “No.”
“You may as well take it. If you pass out, I will use it anyway.”
With little else he could do, the half breed stilled while his master saved his life once more. Gasping at the effects, he demanded, “What happened?”
For once the old monk gave the information freely. “Each flower only gives you a certain number of years, whatever lifespan the person had left. Once those years expire, you will need to consume another life or else everything you were spared will return.”
Horrified, Rang clarified, “You mean, if I don’t keep taking lives, all of the fatal wounds I suffered will come back?”
“Yes, eventually. We don’t know how many years we get with each one, but they always fade in time. Your life now depends on them. And as you are beholden to me, we are locked together until I release you.”
The younger man demanded, “Then release me now! I don’t want their life or their memories! Just let me die and escape this nightmare!”
“No!” Hae-ryong stood over him. “No, not yet. I have been instructed to keep you at our call. Only when the time is right, when your death has purpose, will we release you.”
“When?!” Rang pleaded desperately, hundreds of years have already passed. How much longer must he endure this hell? “When will that be? 10 years? 100 years? 1,000 years?”
“However long it takes until Lee Yeon’s fox bead returns.”
In that moment, Rang finally understood why the traitor saved him from the beginning, why he kept egging him on to torment his brother. They were waiting for his woman to return and most likely the serpent with her. Until then he would be trapped in this living hell, unable to ask for help, unable to break free. Rang’s heart sank.
Over the next few hundred years, he danced with death on occasion. And each time he was fed another flower, the red of its petals leaving stains on his soul. More nightmares blended with his own. He despaired, with no end to his torment in sight. That is until one day a familiar woman crossed paths with the gumiho. Relief washed over the half breed, it was almost over.
Rang could only hope that in their battles Yeon would finally finish the job he started centuries ago. If not, he was done with the flowers no matter what. One way or another it would end.