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It would be the last night.
Wonho swore it to himself. He had made this same promise the night before, and the night before that, but it would be different this time. The moon had been steadily waning, and was hardly more than a crescent in the sky. It was dark, and Wonho was barely able to make out the shape of the trees he walked among. That was good. In the dark, he would be able to think more clearly. The moonlight was bewitching. This was why he had failed all those previous nights. He convinced himself this was the truth, and walked on, left hand gripping the hilt of his sword.
It would be the monster’s last night.
The late spring breeze brushed the forest leaves, sending whispers through the air. Wonho tried to shut his ears to them. He could almost hear words in them, hidden, waiting to snake into his brain and grip his heart.
As he reached the edge of the clearing, he stopped and took a moment to steady himself. Wonho had considered entering blindfolded, but decided against it. He had told himself this was because going in blind left him open to an attack, but in deepest recesses of his heart he knew it was because he was weak.
He was weak, and he had been weak for the past four nights. He knew it was a glamour, nothing more than an illusion, and still he had been weak.
But this night would be different. This night Wonho would draw his sword and thrust it through the monster’s heart.
Wonho carried his small flask of spirits with him, and considered taking a sip, just to shore up his courage. But no. He would need all his wits about him. It hardly mattered, since he could barely think at all once he faced the monster, but he kept the flask corked.
He fixed his fingers firmly around his sword hilt, ready to draw at any instant. And then Wonho stepped into the clearing.
Wonho saw the monster by the pool, and his breath caught in his throat.
It was beautiful. It was male, tall with a lean, long frame. Its face was small, stunning, with wide, expressive eyes that had a dreamy touch to them, and thick, pretty lips lightly parted. It had short, pitch black hair, always wet from the lakewater. It was clothed, but the thin white material was wet and clung to its body, highlighting every line and every curve.
Wonho swallowed, gripped his sword tighter, and ventured forward cautiously.
It turned to face him, and a smile spread on those lovely lips. “Back again tonight?” The voice it spoke with was slightly nasal, enchanting in a very different way from the sultry tone Wonho had expected.
It had been difficult for Wonho to speak the first time with those eyes regarding him, but it had been four nights, and the words came easier now. “Tonight is your last night, monster,” he said, but his voice shook at the last word.
The monster of the lake frowned, and it was beautiful in its disheartenment. “That is rather hurtful.”
Wonho almost apologised. The words came automatically to his lips, but he managed to stop them.
“In any case, forgive me if I seem disinclined to believe you,” the monster continued. “I seem to recall you saying the same thing last night, and yet, here we are.”
“I will not fail again tonight,” Wonho said, endeavouring to keep his voice steady.
“Is that so?” A delicate smile appeared on the monster’s face, and it stood up.
It approached Wonho, and Wonho instinctively stepped back. He had to keep a distance. He knew that if he let it come close enough, he would lose himself.
But when the monster was an arm’s length away from him, Wonho found himself unable to move. He was close enough to see its face clearly now. Even in the low light he could make out every one of those arresting features, the way those dark eyes looked at him, looked into him.
The monster smiled again, but this one spoke of true amusement, and then it turned away. Wonho’s hand was still on his sword. The white-clad figure was within range. He just had to draw the sword and push it through its back. He just had to draw…
But he could not. He had not been able to, no matter how much his brain screamed at him. Failure, once more. Failure for four nights, and his heart told him this would be the fifth.
Wonho cursed the arrogance that had led him to accepting this job. Lake monsters were known to have powerful abilities of enchantment, and even the boldest sellswords were wary of them. The king of this tiny country had been looking for a warrior to rid him of a lake monster, and retrieve some valuable treasure at the bottom of the pool. Wonho had stepped up eagerly. Lake spirits were beautiful females, and Wonho had never had any trouble keeping away from women, no matter how beautiful.
But this. How was he to have known that the monster would be this?
“I am quite flattered at how you come to see me every night,” the thing said, returning to its lake. It was a small body of water, hardly more than a pool, with a smooth grassy decline leading into it. The monster sat at the edge, slipping his long legs underneath.
“You must be thirsty, coming out so far,” it said. It reached into the clear, shining lake and brought out water cupped in its hand. “Come, drink.”
Wonho backed away reflexively. Every night, he was offered a drink of water. And every night, somehow, he held back. He was weak, but not so weak as to lose himself. He knew that if that water passed his lips, he would be lost.
“Will you not drink with me, my handsome warrior?” the monster asked, and raised its hand to its lips, let the water slide down its chin and chest.
Wonho turned around and ran. He could hear the sound of laughter behind him, high, amused laughter, but he kept on running. He only stopped when he was deep in the forest, and leaned against a tree to catch his breath.
Another night, another cowardly escape. Every night he felt his will weaken, felt himself sway to the call of the monster.
And yet he returned every night, swearing it would be the last. Because Wonho knew, in his heart, if he could not overcome this weakness, he was no warrior at all.
He looked up at the waning moon, and strengthened his resolve for the next night.
*
“You’ve returned.”
Wonho did not answer. He had had a day to think it over, and had decided not to speak with it.
It was not put off by his silence. “Is this is a sort of hobby for you, bothering others at night?” It leaned back lazily, half in the water, half on land. “How fortunate that you are so handsome. Otherwise I might have been annoyed.”
Its posture and demeanour were languorous, but its eyes followed Wonho closely. He edged closer towards it, hand ready to draw at an instant.
“Could you please stop gripping your sword like that?” it said with a light sigh. “It’s rather… distracting.”
Wonho almost let go, but stopped himself. This would be the last time he would face this monster. He swore it.
The monster opened its mouth, and then suddenly shut it and looked to its right. Wonho followed its line of sight until he saw what had suddenly grasped its attention. A deer. A young buck from the small nubs of his antlers just breaking free of his head; hardly more than a fawn. He walked up to the pool, dipped his mouth into the water, and lapped up some water. Wonho watched it for a moment, and then turned his attention back to the monster.
It was smiling. A fond, gentle smile. It reached one hand out and stroked the fawn’s head with its long fingers, smiling all the while.
For a moment Wonho’s heart faltered. And then he regained his composure. It did not matter if the monster looked at the deer fondly. Lake monsters usually had affection for woodland creatures near their territory. Also, there was always the possibility it was doing this intentionally to deceive him.
Wonho inched closer, never taking his hand off the sword. Yes… just a few more steps and it would be within reach…
And then the monster suddenly turned to him. Wonho froze. He couldn’t move, not with its eyes on him. It was still smiling, but this was a different smile. Not fond, but not malicious. It looked up at him and asked, almost gentle, “What is your name, bold warrior?”
“Wonho.” This time he could not stop himself.
The monster smiled. “My name is Hyungwon.”
“No,” Wonho said immediately. “You do not have a name. You cannot have a name. You…” he faltered, not knowing what he had meant to say.
“And yet, I do have a name,” Hyungwon said. He scratched behind the deer's ears as he spoke, a subconscious action that was so human.
And at that moment, in Wonho’s mind, it became he.
“Wonho,” Hyungwon said, and the name sounded beautiful from his lips, “are you not thirsty? Come, drink.” And he cupped his large hands into the lake and brought out a draught of water.
Wonho could feel his feet moving forward, and he restrained himself. Hyungwon raised his hands, and Wonho backed away. The longer he remained, the less control he had over his body. The enchantment was in Hyungwon’s eyes, and Wonho could not look away.
“Wonho,” Hyungwon said again, but this time there was a lilt in his voice, calling out towards him.
That voice seemed to pull at Wonho, tugging his body forwards. He could feel his will draining out of him, being sucked away by that voice. He knew he would not be able to resist much longer, and so he did the only thing he could.
“Don’t go, Wonho,” Hyungwon called after him as he fled. Wonho kept on running. It was the only escape he had. The enchantment was getting stronger. He could feel it entwine around his heart, and it squeezed stronger every time.
And yet, he knew he would return the next night.
*
The clearing was empty. Wonho peered around cautiously, but Hyungwon was nowhere to be seen. The moon was getting thinner every night, but there was still a glint of it on Wonho’s sword. He had unsheathed it already, standing just outside the clearing. Taking it out of the scabbard in Hyungwon’s presence had been a barrier for him. This would be the night Wonho would put it through Hyungwon’s chest, he swore it.
His eyes scanned the dark clearing, where the only source of light was the moon’s rays reflecting off the still water of the lake. Every night before, Hyungwon had been by the lake, reclining lazily on the soft grass. He was gone. For a moment, Wonho harbored a burning hope that perhaps he had disappeared, as lake spirits sometimes did. And then a line of disappointment snaked in…
“You’re late.”
Reflex took over and Wonho slashed as he whirled around. Some other instinct took over at the last moment, and he pulled back. For a moment Wonho truly thought he had cut Hyungwon in half. Those captivating dark eyes were fixed onto his, wide in shock. But there was no blood on the blade, none seeping through that thin white shirt. He had cut through the loose white fabric, but he had not reached the skin.
“You almost killed me,” Hyungwon said, and he sounded genuinely hurt.
“I’m sorry,” Wonho said before he could stop himself. “You surprised me.”
“You shouldn’t wave that thing around, you could seriously hurt somebody,” Hyungwon admonished, in a very human, ordinary way.
To Wonho’s surprise, he found himself sheathing his sword. “That’s the point,” he said, but it came out sheepishly.
“I will never understand humans,” Hyungwon said, walking back to his lake. “You purify and forge such a beautiful metal, and then use it to create things to slaughter each other.”
He sounded so dispirited Wonho felt the need to cheer him up, though he had no idea how or why. “We make jewellery too,” he said, and to illustrate his words he reached into his shirt and pulled out the silver star he carried around his neck.
Hyungwon approached him, interested. He walked right up to Wonho, until he was close enough for Wonho to grab, and then lifted his hand, palm up. Wonho dropped the star onto it. Hyungwon examined it, fascinated, running his fingertips over the edges, over the smooth surface of the metal.
He was so close. He was completely defenceless, his guard down as he examined the silver with genuine wonder. But the thought of attacking him then did not occur to Wonho. His thoughts were fixed on how absolutely beautiful Hyungwon was, how innocent he looked, so fascinated with something so trivial. Wonho’s hand moved up of its own accord, drawn to Hyungwon’s cheek.
Faster than lightning Hyungwon jerked away, and then quickly backtracked to the safety of his lake.
“I’m sorry,” Wonho said, taken aback by the sudden reaction. “I…”
“I cannot touch you,” Hyungwon said. He had his back to Wonho as he slipped back into the lake, so Wonho could not see his face, but he could hear him clearly. “Until you have drunk of the waters of the lake, I cannot touch you.”
Wonho stood where he was. So this was the meaning of the lake spirit enchantment. He was safe so long as he did not drink from the pool, and the only way he would drink from the pool was if he chose to.
Hyungwon turned around to look at Wonho, and smiled. “So, tell me about that star.”
“This?” Wonho put his hand over the silver now hanging over his chest. “It’s nothing. My brother made it.”
“I want to know,” Hyungwon said, wading to the edge of the lake and leaning forward in interest. “Tell me. I want to know about the star, your brother, everything. I want you to talk to me.”
He looked so genuine. His dark eyes were on Wonho, but they were not trying to read him, or entrance him. They just watched.
Wonho walked forwards and sat on the grass in front of the lake, and talked.
*
That night Wonho talked to Hyungwon about silver, his brother and how he was a smith, about their small village where he had grown up. The next night he talked about how he had become a sellsword, where he had honed his skills. The night after Wonho spoke about his first job, his first adventure. The moon waned into nothing, and then waxed again into a crescent and then a half-moon. On the nineteenth night after their first meeting, Wonho walked into the clearing without his sword. The king had grown impatient with his weak excuses and had canceled the contract. Wonho had been secretly grateful. He still returned to the lake, night after night. Sometimes he ran out of things to stay, and then he and Hyungwon would sit in silence by the still lake, but that was alright too.
The lake had become Wonho’s home in this foreign place. It was where he kept his heart.
*
Hyungwon’s eyes widened in surprise as Wonho burst into the clearing, and then his features softened into a smile. “Late again,” he said.
Wonho was not smiling. When Hyungwon saw his expression, he got up and approached him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. “Did something happen?”
“You need to leave,” Wonho said, serious. “Tonight.”
“Excuse me? In case you have forgotten, this is my lake,” Hyungwon said with a light laugh, but Wonho was not laughing.
“I was in the tavern by the keep just now,” he said. “One of the king’s men says they are going to poison the lake. They’re convinced you have something valuable hidden in it.”
Hyungwon’s face blanched. “When?”
“Tomorrow morning,” Wonho said. “You have to leave before dawn.”
“I can’t,” Hyungwon said, turning away. “My life is tied to the waters of the lake. I leave it, I die.”
“If you stay here, you’ll die,” Wonho said. “Some witch brewed the poison they’ll pour into the lake. You can’t–”
“I told you, I can’t leave,” Hyungwon said, raising his voice. “This lake is my life.” He went back to his pool, walked into it, and then turned and gave Wonho a smile tinged with sadness. “Perhaps it is for the best, in the end.”
“What are you saying?” Wonho strode up to him. “For the best? You think your death is for the best?” The thought of it angered him.
“My glamour is fading,” Hyungwon said, still smiling that sad smile. “It will die, and then you will leave me. You can be free.”
“What?” Wonho could not believe what he was hearing.
“Even if I could leave these waters,” Hyungwon continued, “my glamour is drawn from this forest. If I were to leave, you would see me as I am, without my enchantment– plain, ordinary, nothing.” He paused, and that smile took on another colour. “A beautiful death is preferable to an ugly, lonely life.”
“I would never leave you,” Wonho said fiercely. “How could you think that?”
“It matters not, my handsome warrior,” Hyungwon said. “The water of this lake is my life.”
Wonho looked at that beautiful face, and now he could finally read the expression on it. It was resigned despair. He knew then that Hyungwon was right. He could not leave the lake.
He dropped down onto the soft grass, looked right into those dark eyes, searching for an answer. I don’t want to lose you. Tell me what to do.
“Go,” Hyungwon said softly. “You should not be here. Go.”
Wonho did not answer. His stared at the grass beneath him, his mind and heart locked in battle. And then he reached into the pocket sewn into the inside of his cloak and pulled out his flask. He removed the cap and turned the bottle upside down. He watched as the clear liquid inside flowed out, shook it to make sure every drop was gone. Only when he was sure there was nothing left in it did he reach forward and dip the flask into the pool.
“No, Wonho, leave,” Hyungwon said, but he did not stop him. Wonho raised the flask to his lips and drank.
The water was cool and clear, and tasted of nothing at all. Wonho looked at Hyungwon expectantly.
“Oh, you are an idiot,” Hyungwon said, and then he moved forward, took Wonho’s face in his hands and kissed him.
His lips were wet and warm against Wonho’s own as he kissed him gently. Wonho could feel Hyungwon pulling him forward, pulling him into the lake, and he let his body be carried in, lost in the warmth of the monster’s kiss.
*
When Wonho woke, it was morning. The sun had fought free of the horizon, and was now making her ascent across the sky. The forest was alive with the sound of wakening life.
Hyungwon was gone. Wonho had not expected otherwise. He found his flask nearby, still holding some of the water of the lake, and he closed it tightly and slipped it into his pocket.
*
He stood and watched as the king’s men mixed the poison into the lake. A crowd had gathered, and Wonho had effortlessly become a part of it. The sun was at her peak when the first men dived into the lake, faces tightly bound to protect themselves.
There were many things found at the bottom of the lake. A belt buckle, some metal cutlery, a few old trinkets of brass and copper. Nothing valuable. Nothing valuable to humans, but perhaps valuable to someone else.
The King refused to believe it, and spent all the daylight hours by the lake, sending his men into it again and again. None of them found anything of worth, until finally, just as the sun went to sleep, one of them emerged with a small silver star. The King cursed and took it, saying he should have the only valuable thing found in the godsdamned pool.
Wonho left after that. Hyungwon would not have let the king take the star. Hyungwon was gone.
He bought a horse and rode it hard, not stopping once until he had left the kingdom and its forests behind. Then he wandered in the night, until he found a small inn in a small village, and booked a room.
He put his meagre possessions in a pile on the floor, but stopped just as he was about the throw off his clothes. Wonho pulled out the flask, looked at it, and then placed it on the small rickety table by the bed.
*
In the morning, Wonho woke up, and he was not alone.
There was a figure sitting at the foot of the bed. It was male, tall with a lean, long frame. Its face was small, stunning, with wide, expressive eyes that had a dreamy touch to them, and thick, pretty lips lightly parted. It had short, pitch black hair, and was clothed in a thin white material that billowed in the morning breeze. And in its hands, a small flask filled with lakewater.
Wonho sat up, and smiled. The figure turned to him. “How do I look?” he asked, lips slightly trembling.
“Beautiful,” Wonho said, and leaned forward and kissed Hyungwon.
His lips were dry.