The Sound of My Vendetta Against The Ones That Planned it

Mark’s family used to live in a big house. Mark remembered the huge stairs that was in front of the main door. Mark could still recall tracing his fingers in the nooks and crannies of the patterns that were carved into those very stairs. He remembers playing pretend games with Jackson in front of the door as they waited for their father to come home. He remembered that 9 out 10 of those time they would fall asleep on those stairs because his father traveled for long periods of times and no matter how his mother would tell them that their father wouldn’t be back yet, they simply wouldn’t listen. They still insisted that their father would be back from his travels on that very day, everyday.

He was 8 years old when the king was pronounced dead from sickness. His father had returned from his travels a few days after with a solemn look on his face. Mark was only 8 but he knew something was wrong when his father had rushed his mother to the kitchen and talked in urgent whispers to his mother. Mark was only 8 but he could sense that a change was about to happen by the look his mother had on her face when she tucked them in that night.

And Mark was right. The maids of the house were dismissed the next day. His father left in the morning for work but he didn’t ride his carriage like he usually does. Instead he rides his horse with only a small bag of supplies. And he came back before sun down, just in time for his mother’s cooking. His mother had taken over all the chores in the house and had started packing things into boxes while his father was away. The house was in a constant mess because there were no maids to clean and the house was too big for his mother to clean alone. It was a confusing week but one night, during dinner, his father had finally told them what was going on.

Mark remembered that dinner to be pretty chaotic. They had been eating bread and cheese for three meals consecutively and quite frankly Mark hated it. His mother was frantically trying to calm Bambam who was throwing a fit over the meal. Youngjae was mumbling complains as he stabbed his bread with his butter knife. Jackson, on the other hand, was sat next to his father who was gobbling down his dinner.

“Why are the maids not cooking dinner for us, father?” he had asked, loud enough to overpower Bambam’s wails. His father stayed silent for a moment and Mark could see his eyes flicker to their mother. “Are we poor now?” Jackson asked again when his father hadn’t said anything. His tone feigned innocence.

“I’m afraid we are, boys,” His father said, wiping his mouth with the table cloth. “We can no longer afford this house, so, we have to move out.”

“Are we going to be like Miss Iridine from the market, father?” Youngjae piped up. Miss Iridine was the homeless lady who begs for spare change in the market. When Mark follows his mother to the market, she always pats his head.

“No, no, no… I’m building us a house so we can live in the forest,” his father replied, pinching Youngjae’s chubby cheeks. “I promise all of you that you will never be homeless. I will do whatever it takes!”

So in less than a week later, they moved to the forest. Back then, the house was smaller. It had a kitchen and only one bedroom. His father then started working in the mines. It was difficult to adjust at first but soon enough, Mark and his brothers started to enjoy living in the forest. His father came home before sundown and told them stories of his travels. His mother became an expert at wild herbs and rare mushroom and could trade for good crops in the market. Sometimes, Mark thinks of those times as the best times of his life. That was until his father became ill.

When his father had died, he had automatically became the man of the house. His mother had managed to keep them afloat by her trade of wild herbs and rare mushrooms but it was barely enough. When Mark had just turned 14, his mother had fallen ill and without any warning, she had left them.

At the young age of 14, Mark had started working in the mines. It wasn’t easy because he was small and the other workers bullied him endlessly but he had no choice; he was the only hope for his brothers. It had made him who he was today. There was always that sense of pride in him when he saw his brothers. Even if his heart ached when his mother had left them, he had pulled through and thanks to that decision, his brothers were alive and healthy.

He had grown strong through the difficulties of his life but at this very moment, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough.

“Are you alright?”

Mark looks up to see Jinyoung looking at him with concern. His face was close enough that Mark could see how smooth the expanse of his skin was. He was wearing his father’s old noble clothing, a white tunic with a large velvet cloak, secured with a broach that had the king’s crest on it. Jinyoung looked dashing and every bit of Mark wanted to stare at his beauty for an eternity.

“I’m going to be alright, you know,” Jinyoung said catching Mark’s hand into his own. Mark shies away from Jinyoung’s gaze. He noticed that they had fallen back from the group. They were currently making their way to the castle to crash the funeral.

“I’m sorry,” Mark mumble to the ground. “I’m just worried.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate me. There is more to me than just what meets the eye,” Jinyoung smiled which made Mark’s heart beat a tad bit faster. Mark knew Jinyoung was right. Jinyoung was magic and he was more than capable of taking care of himself. It was just that he wasn’t strong enough for the smile in front of him to be the last he ever had the privilege to witness.

“Please don’t leave my side,” Mark pleaded, “please!”

Mark knew he sounded desperate. He knew for a fact that he was and he was pretty sure Jinyoung could tell by the weak smile playing on his face but he didn't care. He had just gotten Jinyoung back. There was no way he could let him slip out of his fingers again.

-o0o-

Every nerve on Mark’s body is hyper aware. Jinyoung was seated in the pews, hiding behind a woman who wore a hideous large hat. The ceremony had started with solemn music and the priest read bible verses; some of the people were in tears as they stared at the large coffin placed in front of the throne, lifted by the altar.

Mark hasn’t looked inside the open coffin but just the thought of looking into it was making him sweat. He knew Jinyoung was sitting in the pews, he kept glancing to make sure but if he looks inside the coffin and saw Jinyoung in there, lifeless, he was going to vomit. He simply wasn’t strong enough.

Mark eyes fleet to Youngjae who was standing at the main entrance then to Yugyeom who was at the opposite of the room. Each entrance was guarded. Bambam and Youngjae standing by the main entrance, Yugyeom by the left and Mark on the right. When Jinyoung exposes himself, the queen will try to run but she would be cornered.

Mark glances at the calm demeanor on Jinyoung’s face. His eyes focused on the queen that has moved from her throne to the coffin. She has a silk handkerchief in her hand that she used to wipe the tears falling from her eyes. If Mark didn’t know that this whole thing was staged, he would have been fooled.

“Prince Jinyoung had been a son to me,” she begins with a shaky voice that was almost convincing. “His death has come as a great loss to all of the kingdom.”

Mark felt his ears burn with fury, the queen spewed lies.

“It is with great honor and humility that i accept the responsibility of ruling this kingdom until my last breath,” she raises her voice with a renewed vigour. The room falling nearly silent besides the murmurs of the nobles and commoners that looked a mix of awe and disguised fear of the queen’s announcement. It was no secret that the kingdom has been suffering since the King’s death.

“There is no need for that” a voice shouts. Mark watched as Jinyoung stands up from his seat. His eyes set on the floor so the fringe of his hair covers his face partially. Slowly, he looked directly at the queen. “I am the Prince of this kingdom and i am here to claim my throne,”

There is a chorus of gasps. The nobles sitting around Jinyoung backing away from him as if he was a ghost. “Imposter!” the queen shouts which only fell to deaf ears. The crowd was riled up and ready to attack. Sounds of pews screeching as the people attempted to move forward to corner the queen.

“She has committed treason to this kingdom by faking the death of the true heir. SEIZE HER!” Jinyoung shouts as he walked towards the alter. He has fire in his eyes as it zeros in on the queen that stood frozen by the coffin.

“STAND DOWN!” The queen shouts. Her arms held in front of her body as if she was ready to attack. The people however heed her warning.

It all happens in a blink of an eye. The queen casts a spell and the room filled with screams of terror. When Mark open his eyes, he saw the mess they had caused. The nobles who had been at the very front of the crowd were frozen in a thin sheet of ice that covered their whole bodies while others were protected by large veins that grew and shifted the church floor, icicles dangling from the veins from where the queen had managed to cast her spell.

“Mark!” Mark turned to see Yugyeom casting spells that took form of white light orbs towards the frozen villagers, breaking the freezing spell. “Lead them out. They would only cause more trouble,” Yugyeom stressed.

Mark nods but his eyes immediately darted to Jinyoung who was busy trying to capture the queen in the tree vines he had conjured. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the fairy.

“He’ll be fine. I’ll help him,” Yugyeom reassures, squeezing his shoulder before casting more light orbs to the others, melting them.

Mark nodded and glanced at the back of Jinyoung’s head.

I will see you later.

-o0o-

“You have caused enough pain!” Jinyoung cried as he concentrated on manipulating the movement of the large green vine in front of him. He could hear screams and shouts behind him but he knows he needed to focus. The faster he could catch the queen, the less pain she would inflict.

“I should have killed you when you were a child!” She flung a large green orb of light in his direction. Jinyoung lifted his arms above his shoulders, concentrating on the feeling of the earth beneath the layer of stone floor and swiftly moved his hands towards each other until they form a mesh above his head. A mesh of vines conjures itself in front of him, just in time for the queen’s spell to hit it. The mesh of vines explode with a bang.

Jinyoung holds out his right hand away from his body and lifts it above his head to conjure large trees to block the left entrance that the queen was running to. Jinyoung is just about to fling another spell towards her when a flash of light dashed past. “You, fairy!” she hissed, displeasure contorted her face into ugliness.

“Missed me?” Yugyeom jeered, his hands flicking spell after spell towards the queen who only managed to deflect half of it, leaving the rest to hit her. She groaned as she limped towards the exit that Mark had left unguarded. Jinyoung swung his arms forward with full force; conjuring vines that whipped towards the queen in full speed, finally tangling her. She struggles against the tight vines that held her in place, shrieking and shouting useless threats.  

“You were supposed to be dead. I poisoned you,” she shouted directly at Jinyoung.

“Curses can be broken,” Jinyoung stated, finding it hard not to be smug. “Dark magic is penetrable by light.”

The evil queen glared at him as he got closer.

“This is not the end!” she screamed. Her eyes turned white as a green fire began to consume her; the room quickly filling with smoke.

“She’s getting away,” Yugyeom said, coughing heavily as he choked on the smoke. Jinyoung could feel himself suffocating on the smoke as it became too difficult to breath making him cough. His eyes watering as he desperately flailed his arms trying to capture the queen but it was too late. Yugyeom clapped his hands and the smoke visibly dissipated. When the smoke cleared, all that was left was the burnt vines from where she stood.

“She must have gone to her chambers,” Yugyeom mumbled, ruffling his hair in frustration. “We have to go now,” he stressed.

“Mark?” Jinyoung called, suddenly aware of the absence of anything else besides Yugyeom and himself.

“He is bringing the villagers to safety. He’ll be alright,” Yugyeom called making Jinyoung swallow a thick lump in his throat.

-o0o-

The first thing that entered Mark’s mind when the castle wall rattled with a quake was that he should run towards it. The consecutive tremors after that only added to this thought building up an impatient fire within him. He needed to know Jinyoung was safe and he needed to know now.

He needed to lead the villagers to safety first but every inch of his body wanted to just turn back. His mind was working at a mile a minute and all he could imagine was the worst; that he would be too late.

He eyed a man running next to him, stopping him before he could go any further. “Make sure to get everyone out of the castle,” he instructed, holding the man's arms harder than necessary. The man nodded and that was all Mark needed.

He ran. He ran as fast as his feet could take him. He had no idea where he was going but his feet had set a path to follow where the tremors were coming from. After what seemed like forever, He turned into a dark alley where the curtains were drawn dark and observed the fallen paintings from the walls. The sounds of banging, clanking and crashing could be heard and the tremors were strongest than it had been. He could hear faint sounds of shouting.

His eyes set on large brown doors, that had been broken into parts. Once he went in there was no going back; he knows it. Jinyoung was in there and he might still be alive (please be alive). He held the sheath by his hip and absent-mindedly runs his hands over it. The engraving was so clear in his mind that he didn’t need to look at it to conjure the image of his father’s nobility insignia. He drew the sword and grips on it the way he held any of his weapons; with a hard iron grip.

This was it; his battle.

-o0o-

Yugyeom flung the doors to the queen’s chambers open with a flick of his finger. Jinyoung followed him with caution. Jackson, Youngjae and Bambam who were all armed with swords, followed them silently. Jinyoung wasn’t sure where Jaebum was but wherever he was, Jinyoung hoped he was still alive.

“Welcome to my playground,” an echo of the queen’s voice rung through the room. The room was void of any furniture other than the enchanted mirror. There was no sign of the queen and every second that Jinyoung spent searching for her made his palms sweat.

“This would be easy,” another one came, running a chill down Jinyoung’s spine.

“We would make it difficult,” a voice interrupted, turning all heads in the room. Jaebum came in with a fierce expression, behind him stood a whole army. The castle’s huntsmen stood in standby and among them stood Jaebum’s father. Jinyoung felt a surge of pride fill his chest as he thought of how his father had laid out the help he needed for this moment. His father, as the king to all these people, had touched their lives and in turn they had been loyal to him.

Thank you, father.

A shrill laughter echoed through the empty room. “I would like to see you try!”

The ground beneath them started shifting and before them an army of soldiers started forming. The bricks and stones of the floor morphed into silver armor knights; Each of them holding a large shiny sword. Jinyoung could feel his heart pounding fast in his chest, sweat building on his forehead as adrenaline pumped through his veins.

“I was weak when you first came for me. I was almost helpless but now I’m stronger than ever. You are nothing” Another laugh filled the room and the dark army move into attack position with a loud clash.

“This is it, men,” Jinyoung proclaimed. “It is time to claim back what has been taken from us!”

He could hear the clanking of armour as the men behind him nodded. “It is time to take back our KINGDOM!” He shouted raising his fist into the air which was accompanied by the loud cheer of men.

There was a moment of pin drop silence in which Jinyoung could only hear his own shallow breath and feel the sweat drip down his forehead before the true war began. His eyes watch carefully as the queen’s army, as if in slow motion, started to swing their swords, and he shouted the only words that could lead his own.

“ATTACK!”

Notes:

first of all, i am always so sorry for taking so long to finish this series. i think the next one might be the last and then i shall forbid myself from writing fairytale AUs. lol. secondly, forgive me if the writing is inconsistent. thirdly, thank you for reading this and being patient with me. you guys are truly the best. If you do have questions or want to be friends or even shout at me for at posting you can find me on my tumblr @got7doubleb or on twitter @gotsichi7.