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my lord soowon
heavy snow mixed with ash about 40 li north and south of us. rain mixed with hail for the past three days. unfortunately, we can see the effect it has on the local crops. there have been reports from the townsfolk of the famine worsening in this province, but all i need is my own two eyes. none of the magistrates’ reports have reached kuuto. i humbly ask my lord to inquire into this matter.
the soldiers are complaining, missing the taste of meat. i’d tell those rascals to buck up and hold out for a little while longer, but i’m starting to feel the ache in my stomach, too. if that scoundrel taejun is still good enough for anything, you might as well send him to bring reinforcements and rations.*
black clouds seen over the mountain pass that separates us from the kai empire twelve hours ago. makes me think of those stories elder mundok used to tell us about the gods, back when we were kids… perhaps you’d like to venture a guess as to what they might be planning? you pry the secrets from a mind like nobody else.
(*sake would be nice, too. i ask on the behalf of my company, not myself.)
general,
there is snow in the capital now that we have reached midwinter as well, but surely not as bleak as what you are experiencing in fire tribe territory. the days remain surprisingly mild, but the deep evenings are starless and brutally frigid. reports of the war remain consistent on all accounts: there are skirmishes southwest of the north kai border, and a recent bandit uprising has left nearby villages in shambles. this i know from general joodoh’s letters — frustration and exhaustion aside, i admire him for his continued steadfastness and grit. i anticipate your correspondence most of all, general, for you write of the stories of the people.
my personal collection does not go deserted, i’d have you know. recently i’ve taken a great interest in the writings of one particular poet — he lived presumably around two thousand years ago, and any biographical records that exist of him speculate that he may have been a hiryuu priest. only two works of his have survived throughout the centuries — a short sijo mourning the death of his wife, and a collection of lines thought to be religious sutras. but when i looked through them myself, i was struck by the raw pathos and power imbued in his words… what great pain and suffering he must’ve endured to write them down, only to be left a short anecdote in kouka’s long history. he invokes each of the dragon gods by name, as though they were brothers to him; he writes of memories and places that do not even exist in our ephemeral world. while our people give up offerings to the priests when they seek divine help, the poet pleads with the gods directly.
perhaps i should not say plead. it is more of a curse, a lament that the gods do not let his grief die.
i’m beginning to suspect that the signatures on these writings are not the poet’s real identity. perhaps it was these thoughts and emotions, not his name, that he’d wished to be passed down to others.
the plum blossoms in the palace gardens continue to burst with color. i wish you could see how their elegant red creates such a striking contrast to the pale backdrop of winter, like glittering rubies. just this morning as i was sitting underneath a plum tree poring over my poetry, a petal fell into my lap. it reminded me so much of her hair.
kan taejun is bravely proving himself in battle on the western front, while you hold out on your own in the north. the elder kan shall go in taejun’s stead lest you harass the enthusiasm out of him. shall i send a plum blossom branch along as well?
you asked me what the gods might be planning. they are hollow and of no interest to me. in this i am in disagreement with the poet; all we tiny humans can do is live.
yours,
soowon
lord of the sky tribe
my lord soowon
hailstorm and heavy wind for two days at the time of writing this report. we’ve managed to evade any casualties and our horses and lodgings are generally safe. sometimes the weather forgoes a hailstorm in favor of more heavy snowfall, and that is where our troubles lie. it’s only thanks to general kyoga’s knowledge of the territory that we’ve survived; you were right to send him instead. he cautions against advancing through the mountain pass since we risk getting holed in by snow until spring thaw. i’ll take his word for it.
spirits are up despite everything. i only wish i could do more for my soldiers. it’s the least i can do since you appointed me as commanding general on the down-low, you sneaky bastard.
i confess that i don’t have much of a mind for poetry. i can sit down to read a novel and formulate battle plans from my grandfather’s old strategy manuals, probably have enough experience to write one of those things myself. but if i could be even half the leader that you are on the battlefield, i’d rest easier at night.
the plum blossom really is the same shade.
general,
anxiety and exhaustion are not uncommon narratives in military correspondence, especially in the height of a most brutal winter. but i will not tolerate any self doubt from you. besides, you always beat me in our sparring matches and games of shogi anyway, how could you not be qualified as a wind tribe general when the time came?
it is good that kan kyoga is beside you to discuss the matter of famine in the northern territories. at the time of sending this letter i have his venerable father sitting across from me on the veranda. i think you’d let out one of your inpertinent chuckles at the face he is making. he is rigid as a stone, as though the ginger tea general guentae’s wife had prepared for us had been poured with sour milk.
please remember to write to the princess as well. she stays up late at night praying for you.
yours,
soowon
lord of the sky tribe
my lord soowon
you were always an easy opponent to beat, as clumsy as you are. you kept tripping over your weapon, leaving yourself open at the wrong moments. not to mention that dumb expression on your face whenever i’d knock you on your ass. when it comes to those games of shogi, though, weren’t you always the one losing on purpose? i could never figure out your next move.
by the time this report reaches you, it’ll be early spring; i’m already preparing my soldiers for more combat training. can’t have them slacking off while we wait for the cold to bite at us. bandits continue to wander the mountain pass, but a certain beast that comes out at night does a good job of scaring them off most of the time.
the morning i got your letter, i noticed gulfan circling in the sky. he swooped down and dropped it right in my hand. i can’t believe you’re making him fly this many li to deliver a report when any ordinary foot soldier would do. don’t work him too hard, alright?
what am i supposed to write to the princess, by the way? can’t think of a single thing she’d have to write back to me about, and it makes me nervous that you even suggest it.
(more hail, more snow. 20 li west of us we heard the rumblings of a small avalanche. the nights are pitch black without the moon, and the shadows moving in between the crags in these mountains startle the horses.)
general hak,
i was worried that i hadn’t received any correspondence from you since late december. when your letter arrived on my desk i admit i forgot everything i was preoccuppied with beforehand. don’t tease me about this.
now that the snow from the mountains has thawed, i suggest at least half your troops fall back into kouka territory. that way if any skirmishes along the border ensue, your men are not holed up in the pass. i suspect kai soldiers might take this opportunity to advance through the mountains — but with fire tribe archers as your vanguard you’ll doubtless be able to ambush them, while wind and sky tribe soldiers control the fighting in the valley. these are simply suggestions, however, not an order — i trust you’ll know exactly what to do. as i am not there at the forefront with you, your eyes see things mine cannot.
it is spring here and the palace gardens are already in full bloom. lady yunho has been visiting me often lately — surely you remember her and the scent of her perfume you said “almost choked you to death”? this time she has brought more of her concoctions, mainly peony, cherry blossom, and oolong… the osmanthus tea tastes especially heavenly, however. it makes me wish you had a taste for tea as much as you do for sake. sometimes i drift onto the veranda expecting to see you at my table, waiting for me to take a seat and chat over a pot of fresh jasmine. it brings back memories of long ago.
please, hak, you don’t have to give me weather reports. i care more about how you and your men are doing. don’t let taewoo and handae get irresponsible with the sake i sent.
yours,
soowon
lord of the sky tribe
my lord soowon
when you write such things, how could i not chuckle to myself? i can imagine you shooting straight up in your chair, caressing the wax seal, inhaling the scent of the paper, staying up late at night rereading my letters by candlelight. all that wistful swooning women do — the mere image of it in my mind makes me want to tease you more.
your letter reached me in late april. the breeze is fresh and the valley is pure green for miles (that’s your final weather report). as you predicted, several kai troops did try making it through the pass; that grueling training i had my soldiers go through last winter definitely paid off. and as much i’d hate to see you get a big head, i’ll never be anything but sincere when it comes to my lord. the things you wrote may have helped just a bit…
gulfan delivered this letter and stayed by my side for three days before i sent him back. will he be handling our correspondence from now on? i’m thinking i could send a few trinkets along with him. as thanks for the plum blossom, of course.
you wanted to know how the men are doing. taewoo gets stronger and swifter every day. i have high hopes for him.
general hak
general hak,
it seems you aren’t the only one to bring good tidings from the war. general joodoh has been able to secure the border near south kai, while general geun-tae’s spirits remain high on the eastern front. i have seen a shift in these tides that will no doubt ultimately favor kouka kingdom in the end. and while it burdens princess yona’s heart to hear of the casualties of wartime, she takes comfort in the letters you send her.
now that we’re in the height of spring, my interest in poetry has been revived again. this one, especially, i hold close to my heart:
the sky’s white clouds that drift and dream,
like your wanderings, forever out of reach.
the setting sun, unwilling to leave,
mirrors my longing, my love’s reprieve.
they are lines from the mourning poem written by that nameless poet i told you about. the more i analyze his works the more i realize we have much more in common than i thought. i’m even thinking of writing poetry of my own… just as a hobby, of course. but i would not write of endless suffering underneath the cruelty of gods. i would write of hope, of resilience, of the brilliant future we can make manifest with our own hands. when i mull over such ideas i confess i have enough material to write a hero’s epic about you. would you like that, my brave general?
speaking of hands, you’ve gotten lazy with your calligraphy. lift your wrists up so that your palms don’t smudge the ink on the paper. as expected, your hands are more suited for handling your guandao… they are an admirable symbol of your strength.
so you do think of your good friend from time to time! but you’re mistaken if you think i swoon like a woman. i wonder if there are other types of images your mind ever conjures up of me.
hak, i wish you’d make your letters longer.
yours,
lord soowon
my lord soowon
sorry that i haven’t written in over two months. i’m hoping this letter reaches you by early july at the latest.
we are at a point that we can safely pass through the mountains into kai territory — i’m sensing anxiety among the troops since they’ve only had experience fighting battles on kouka soil, but there’s nothing to fear as long as i’m here. that’s what i promised them. the scouts i sent up ahead report drought and famine just as bad as in fire tibe territory. if peace ever comes to this land, i hope there comes a day that this side of the valley becomes fruitful again.
what’s that saying i always hear from those kids? easy as the wind… the more i observe my own wind tribe soldiers compared to the sky tribe’s i realize it’s the truth, as damning as it is. those runts just don’t seem to care we’re in the middle of a war… but they’re a good, brave lot, all of them. and whenever i look at taewoo and handae sparring, i’m reminded of how we used to be. heh. if you could see how dirty and mangy i am after a year and a half on the battlefield i’m sure you’d think twice about that hero’s epic. but i’d love to read some poetry for a change, if it’s written by you.
maybe this will make you smile. occasionally the thick clouds that cover the mountain peaks part just before dawn and i can see the sunrise over the horizon. i don’t like getting sappy, but even if it’s 5,000 li that separates me from you my friends and family, that soft golden color reminds me of that sunrise we saw when we were fourteen. do you remember that? we set out climbing hours before dawn just so we could reach that cliff, only for gramps to scold us.
deep down i’m still that snot-nosed kid that would run away from my grandfather just to play with you and yona in the garden. no need to make me out to be some sort of hero in shining armor in your poems. i’m just your best frie loyal ally.
i guess i’m finding an excuse to ramble at this point. i don’t have any poems or flavors of tea to talk endlessly about like you do, so i’ll end this letter soon.
…you mentioned my hands pretty frequently in your letter. perhaps you’d like to know they’ve gotten rougher and more callused from warfare. you can feel them for yourself when i come back… if you’re into that sort of thing.
your faithful general, hak
hak,
your last letter was almost two pages long! i’m happy.
it will be harder for correspondence to reach in time now that kouka’s troops have landed on enemy soil. but if all goes well, this campaign will end by september, and you’ll be back home before you know it.
do you sleep well? that’s what i want to know. personally, i’m having a rough time sleeping… it’s a different feeling from when were children, and i’d stay up late at night from excitement at the thought of traveling to kuuto to see you. i burn candles until the wax melts to a stub and i toss and turn, thinking of how you’re doing, missing being able to speak to you directly. and i think of other things too, of which i’m sure you’re aware… i can envision that smirk of yours already.
i’m hoping this letter reaches you by august; it will be around the time of your birthday by then. if this year marks the twenty-fifth summer of your life, then surely i have the right to brag that i’ve been a part of twenty-two of those twenty-five years. we are no strangers to physical distance, but even i get bored at the capital sometimes. i want to see you return to kuuto in triumph — but more importantly, safe and sound. as long as you promise me that, you can catch me by surprise in the gardens like you used to. i won’t mind.
as i was out playing with gulfan the other day, i noticed him circling as if he were waiting for me to tie another letter to his talons to send to you. perhaps we’re both restless for this war to end. i’m not immune to impatience, after all.
your soowon.
ah, yes. thank you for the morning glories you sent with gulfan. now i’m wondering… what exactly about this flower reminds you of me?
my lord soowon
“catch you by surprise”? hah. when my eyes landed on that i was shocked. surely the poised and elegant lord soowon would never insinuate such scandalous things.
no more time for writing. our battles are heating up and we’re doing all that we can to end this war and bring everyone home. i’ll see you first thing when i get back. nothing like bloodshed on your twenty-fifth birthday, huh? i swear to you that the emperor of kai will know the name of kouka’s thunder beast.
general hak
wait — the yellow morning glories reminded me of your hair. i remembered something you showed me in one of your books about their meaning, so i chose them. surely you already have an idea.
my soowon,
forgive the brevity of my last letter. i’d say that we’ve been friends for so long that we have no need for words, but this time i needed to write.
maybe it’s exhaustion from the battlefield, or maybe i’m just that used to it, but — i sleep like a log. it’s become different now, though, and it’s frustrating me. i’m so used to the world going pitch black the second my head hits the pillow, only waking up when my instincts call for it. i’ve never had a restlessness night, and i don’t dream, either… yet lately, i can’t bring myself to stop thinking.
in my dreams, i’m flying over my hometown of fuuga like a bird. it’s like i’m viewing the world from gulfan’s point of view… sometimes gramps and my little brother appear in my dreams, sometimes king il and the princess. lately, though, i’ve been seeing you in my dreams more often. i can never remember exactly what we’re doing in that moment, or what words were said. sometimes we’re teenagers. other times we’re out in the valley racing on horseback. and sometimes it’s just the reflection of your face in my cup of sake, the stars twinkling overhead.
…those dreams, they’re so vivid. i can’t pry my eyes away — it’s as though my hands could simply reach out and feel your warmth, as though you were breathing right beside me. one time i swore we were back in that field we discovered two summers ago. i could even smell your cologne on my skin…
do you ever dream of me too? you don’t have to answer — we’re no longer teenagers with pent up feelings and desires. these dreams, though, they scare me sometimes. they’re too fleeting, too hazy when i wake up, when all i want is to hold onto that warmth for just a moment longer... no matter what i do, i can’t stop this ache in my chest. i’m afraid that one night i’ll close my eyes desperate to see you again, only for your gaze to never meet mine. i mistake us for birds, and i’m watching you fly farther away into the horizon — but i can’t keep up with you.
forgive my boldness in daring to write these thoughts on paper. dreams are childish things, after all, and all we can do is push forward.
i’ve been thinking about that nameless poet you wrote of in that letter; how he cursed the gods so much because they never let him die. perhaps it’s the poet’s job to conjure the deepest emotions from people’s souls, but i can’t bring myself to understand why someone would want their life to end that much. i do know this — if i ever lost the one thing that made my life worth living, i’d have no strength in my hands at all.
that’s the reason i wake up every morning. there is a future only you can see, soowon, and i want to be the one to fulfill it.
please… if we ever part in one dream, may we reunite in another.
your faithful gen friend your
your beloved,
hak