Sungjong woke up with the taste of death coating his mouth. It was the end of the world.

While he dressed he felt the weight of the world on his shoulder. He hated feeling powerless, and most importantly, he hated letting the king down. Last night, he hadn’t really slept, tossing and turning in his soft quilt, fit for a king. Every strategy he thought of, every tactic seemed too weak, futile.

His footsteps echoed through the hallway as he tried to frame the bad news into something presentable. But despite the words he used, the truth was that the end was neigh.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the counsel room. It was smaller than most of the rooms in the castle, stowed away in a wry corner. The outside was almost shabby, with chipped stones and mossy shadows, in stark contrast to the inside. It was a circular room that would fit at most 20 people. There were no chairs, thick cushions were strewn across the floor, arranged in a circle across the circumference of the room. The walls were smooth and polished, completely different from the roughly hewn exterior. There were pale, but glowed yellow, lit by the torches. Inside this room, there was no saying whether it was night or day, rainy or sunny. This room was eternally yellow.

The walls were bare, except the area exactly opposite to the door. A great floor-to-ceiling image had been painted on the wall in simple colours – a roaring tiger, its figure majestic as it is colossal, it’s teeth hanging bare and eyes sparkling, intimidating. Despite being a two-dimensional picture, it looked alive; many had sworn that they had seen the beast move out of the corner of their eyes. Maids in charge of cleaning the room had often ran out, screaming in fear.

Sungjong found the painting fascinating. It was the symbol of their kingdom, the same image that hung on their flag. But this one, in particular, sent shivers up his spine, like he knew this beast personally.

Just in front of the painting sat the king, on a cushion higher than the rest. He wasn’t an old man but there were lines on his face that Sungjong liked to think were due to wisdom than age. He didn’t appear any less regal than the picture behind him, even though he was several sizes smaller. His eyes were calm however, not burning like the tiger’s. As Sungjong took his seat opposite him, the king smiled.

“Well then, we can begin,” he said, his voice quiet but commanding.

Everyone else in the room, the ministers, the army general, and the chief tactician turned to Sungjong. It was up to him to break the news, to disappoint the king.

“Your Majesty, there’s nothing we can do. We cannot win against them, and surely surrender means death.  I’m sorry I don’t have anything better for you, my king.”

The room let out a collective sigh.

“My son,” the king said, his voice unchanged, as if the doom couldn’t touch him. “I know you’ve tried. All of you.” He glanced at the other men and women in the room. “I fear the end has come.”

Everyone hung their heads. No one was ready to give up, yet everyone knew how great the North was. Their soldiers, their weapons, their powers were beyond anything any of the other kingdoms had. The Northerners were mighty warriors, ruthless and dire, fueled by the dark magic their Mages practiced. Once they decided to take a kingdom, it was all over. The Yellow nation’s time had come.

“They’ve defeated before,” a voice croaked, causing everyone to turn severely to one of the tacticians. Soojong was a tall, muscular woman with bright eyes and a soft smile. Sungjong liked her a lot, she was clever and capable. 

“Years ago,” the minister of health drawled. He was a young man, sharp and attractive. Jinyoung was a great doctor, well-educated and smart, which was why he had been able to get the position of a court minister. His only fault was he would always have to express his opinion, whether anyone asked for it or not. “And only because it was the North against the Alliance.”

“Yes, the Alliance,” Soojung said firmly. “That is our answer.”

Jinyoung guffawed, some of the other ministers joined in as well.

The Alliance was a noble pact created hundreds of years ago among the 6 nations to defeat the North. The 6 nations came together to raise the largest, most powerful army that fought against the monstrosities of the North, finally defeating them and driving them back to their kingdom. Since then, the North had kept quiet, recuperating secretly in their land. They had taken a great blow that kept that at bay for hundreds of years now. While the Alliance had broken, the 6 nations going their own way and forgetting all diplomatic relationships, the North had held onto revenge and the desire to conquer. Finally the time had come for them to start their attack again, starting with the Yellow kingdom.

“If Yellow Kingdom falls, what will happen to the others? Do you think the Northerners will stop here? They won’t stop until they destroy all 6 nations. They have as much to lose as we do,” Soojung debated her case passionately, shooting dirty looks at Jinyoung.

Sungjong knew what she meant – it was true, all 6 nations were at danger and forming an Alliance would be of mutual benefit and may be the only way to stop the North again. However, the nations had all shut their doors to the others for so long that it would be a miracle if they could get representatives of all the nations in the same room, let alone fight together.

“It’s not going to happen,” Hyunmoo, the oldest minister stated. “The Alliance is a thing of the past. They will never listen to our call.”

“How about we try calling them? There’s nothing to lose right?” Soojung insisted. She directed her gaze reverently at the king.

The king turned looked at Sungjong questioningly. The room grew quiet once again as all eyes focused on him.

Briefly glancing at Soojung, he said, “It’s worth a shot I suppose, even if nothing comes out of it, at least we have warned them.”

Soojung smiled at him gratefully while Jinyoung rolled his eyes. The king nodded.

“All in favour?”

Everyone in the room raised their hands, some slower than the others. But since Sungjong had voiced his reasoning, they felt more confident in the idea than before.

“Do you want to light the fire, your Majesty?” the chief minister asked.

 It was no ordinary fire – it was the ancient distress call that the Alliance had used, a torch that burned for 6 days and 6 nights, sending a silent message. The torch is taken to the highest mountain on the outskirts of the Yellow kingdom, where it will be visible to all 6 kingdoms. It was a sign of the dire situation that was facing them – the last time it had been lit was when the North had invaded the lands hundreds of years ago.

“Yes, it is my duty,” the king said. “Sungjong, my son, arrange for messages to be sent to the other kingdoms, urging them to convene immediately.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Sungjong got up and bowed. He felt a small flutter of hope – the Alliance coming together seemed fantastical but at the same time, if it happened, then they would defeat the North once again, and his kingdom will be saved. Death seemed a little farther away.