A warning: to the prophet, the liar, the honest; this is war.

He stood in the Throne Room with his head bowed. “Rise,” came the cold voice from atop the golden chair.

Kim Heechul was the Master of Whispers in New Seoul. He was one of the Queen’s right hand men. He was immensely rich and had spies in every nook and cranny of the city, in both Inner and Outer Seoul. Heechul was one of the most feared at the Queen’s court; he found out everything, and a bad word said against him or the Queen (even in the privacy of your own home) could win you a noose. He was cold hearted, ambitious and cunning.

 The Queen was dressed in dark colours, as usual. She sat on her polished chair straight backed and tense. A beautiful gown of midnight velvet fell around her, the hood of a black cloak pulled over her head. Heechul was used to this - the Queen had spent far too much time in the Hall of Mirrors. Heechul had only been in the Hall once - and once was one time too many. 

The Queen however, spent time in the Hall nearly every day. Heechul didn't know why (he didn't dare ask) but was sure she had her reasons. Whatever her reasons, the Queen hadn't been fully sane for a number of years. And it seemed to Heechul that she had spent so much time with her reflections, so much time surrounded by her own face that she didn't want anyone else to see it.

Every day for the last seven years the Queen would cover her face whenever she sat on the throne. Either with a veil or a hood or some sort, none of her court (including Heechul) had seen her features in many years. At the moment, Her Majesty's hood was pulled down so low it cast a shadow over her eyes and nose. All Heechul could see were a pair of lips painted rouge with lipstick and the long locks of blond hair that fell across Her Highness' shoulders.

Heechul liked to think he could make sense of the crazy Queen better than most. He wasn't sure if anyone truly could make sense of her.

The Queen's court was a dangerous place these days. A wrong word could lose you your tongue. Heechul knew that so he kept his mouth shut most of the time. Heechul paid many people in the city to be his ears. From high ranking soldiers or merchants in Inner Seoul to street urchins and washerwomen in Outer Seoul, he had ears everywhere. If there was any rumour he would hear it first. He could sniff a secret a mile away, making him a firm ally for the Queen.

"Give me the news." The Queen's voice was cool and quiet, as usual.

"First of all, three Imposers were killed in Outer Seoul West. More importantly, the Fourth Regiment's Captain is dead," he replied, his tone just as icy. "I'm sure you've heard that already though. It happened this morning, before eight. Captain Kim was in bed when the incident occurred. According to a maid he yelled for his guards - she says he kept two guards outside his bedroom at night."

"Wise of him," she commented.

"They were also found dead. His son alerted the Imposers and they gave chase to the murderer. The culprit escaped in the crowds of the Market Street of Outer Seoul. They lost him. The maid says a message was left; a note on the body."

The Queen hadn't moved throughout his story, but now raised her head slightly. "What did it say?"

"Sleep with one eye open. The Outer is closing in."

"The Outer closing in...It obviously means those of Outer Seoul. Another uprising?" The Queen tried to sound bored, but her tone was strained.

New Seoul now was home to millions of people. Nearly the entire population of the country once called Korea lived within the city walls. Inner Seoul housed the few million of the nobility, the rich who supported the Queen. Better trained and better armed, there were even guns in Inner Seoul. While most families supported the crown with their money, it was compulsory for young men to spend four years in the army; one year training, three years as soldiers (or Imposers, as they were called here.)

The Imposers kept the law in Outer Seoul which was a lot more…wild, than Inner Seoul.

 Millions of poorer people lived in Outer Seoul. Every year, half the population over nineteen was shipped away to the farms and fields outside the city and worked for a year. After their time was done, they would come back to the city and the other half would work. And after a year in the city, they would go back out again. Taxes made them poor; two fifths of any coin they made with their various crafts went to the crown. Most were illiterate (as the Queen always said; “Education is a form of power.”). A mixture of poor hygiene and overcrowded living conditions made diseases common, especially in the East section of the city. Outer Seoul East was the poorest area in the city.

 Of course, the people of the Outer regions rebelled. They called for better rights, for no taxes, for education. Usually a few would get their hands on some weapons; knives mostly, occasionally a gun or two. But whenever this happened, Heechul’s ears were ready to whisper. Despite those of Outer Seoul heavily outnumbering those of Inner Seoul, the poor, weak, make-shift soldiers were no match for the heavily trained and disciplined Imposers. No rebellion lasted very long (the crown always came away with barely any losses), and when it was over, the Queen made sure those responsible paid heavily. Their bodies could usually be seen in the gallows for weeks afterwards, serving as a warning. The unruly behaviour was the reason for the Imposers in the first place.

 There were five Regiments of Imposers: The First Regiment were the elite; the best trained the most dangerous in the city. They were the Queen’s personal guards, stationed in the palace. The Second Regiment protected the rich in Inner Seoul. The Third Regiment controlled Outer Seoul West, the Fourth controlled Outer Seoul East. The Fifth stayed at the farms and fields outside of the city to keep order there.

New Seoul itself was an old, old city. There were no skyscrapers or huge buildings or electricity. No, they were the stuff of old legends now. Made mostly of stone, high walls enclosed the grand buildings and fortress and palace of Inner Seoul. In Outer Seoul, the further away you were from the Inner walls, the worse the state of the area. Outer Seoul was huge, and at the outskirts another high wall enclosed the city.

 “The Outer is closing In. Whoever came up with that probably thought it was genius,” Heechul said, flicking a speck of dirt from underneath his fingernail. “A bit obvious, if you ask me.” 

“These little rebellions are becoming tedious. The same process repeats itself the entire time,” the Queen sighed irritably, but her voice was still strained. Heechul sensed she was more worried than she wanted him to know. “What have your spies told you?”

 Heechul hesitated. “Not much. It seems that those of the Outer seem to actually have faith in this uprising and are being notoriously tight lipped. I haven’t heard anything of importance.”

The Queen said nothing, but Heechul could practically feel the anger rolling off of her. 

“You’re the Master of Whispers. I expect you to get information.” Her tone was ripe with cold annoyance. Heechul was unfazed.

“It’s not my fault,” he said with a shrug. “Wait a few days. They’ll lose any sort of faith and come forward.”

The Queen stood up. “That’s not good enough!” she suddenly screeched. Any attempt at boredom evaporated as her hands balled into fists at her side. “Never, never in these tiny uprisings has a Captain been killed! And if the people actually have faith in these, these criminals, then obviously it’s a little more serious than usual! So we need to crush them immediately.”

Heechul was slightly taken aback at her outburst. “What would you have me do?” he asked, hiding the snarl that threatened to appear on his porcelain features.

“Go to Outer Seoul East with a few Imposers. Bring guns, open fire into the crowds. Tell them that unless we are given information, the same thing will happen again. And if that doesn’t work, tell them that people will be taken to the Hall of Mirrors.”

 If there were three words that would turn the crowds against the crown, they were “Hall of Mirrors.” For many (in Inner and Outer Seoul) the Hall of Mirrors was a real nightmare, everyone feared it. “That will only turn them against us-” Heechul protested, but was interrupted.

“Last time I checked, I was Queen. Not you. Now do as your Queen commands.”

***

Yuri couldn’t read or write. She didn’t know a lot of things, but she knew how to cook. And she knew how to lie. So really, she was perfect for the job.

Jungsoo was stationing safe houses all over the city. Unlike the rest of his little underground resistance, he was well educated and had money. Jungsoo was born in Outer Seoul East, but as a child a rich couple took him in. Unlike so many others they had kind hearts, but were unable to have children of their own. They adopted the poor orphaned boy and raised Jungsoo as their own, and when they died he inherited their money.

He ran to Outer Seoul shortly before his compulsory time in the army.

The truth was that Jungsoo had forgotten his roots. By the time he was twenty three he was looking down at the young street urchins of Outer Seoul, forgetting he had been one of them not two decades previously.

He studied and studied, hoping to make it to the Queen’s court someday, or to become a Captain of one of the regiments. However, one day changed everything.

He had been on an errand just outside the Inner walls. A beggar around his own age approached him. It was odd to see beggars so close to the Inner Wall. The beggar pestered him, asking for spare change. Jungsoo pushed him away, and spat on the beggar. The beggar then hit Jungsoo.

By the time the Imposers dragged the beggar away, Jungsoo had been knocked out.

And Jungsoo dreamt.

He didn’t remember much, afterwards. But he remembered snatches: old memories of when it was him on the streets, begging for loose change.

When he awoke, he was a new person.

 He sold his home in Inner Seoul and moved into Outer Seoul. Seeing the awful state of living for the poor, he began recruiting for a militia. After a few years, he was surrounded by those he could trust.

 In previous rebellions, people had fought. But they hadn’t planned. 

 Jungsoo was the leader, he was the brain, and he was the source of money for the Resistance. He formed groups among his own ranks. Each group would consist of six or seven people and they would have a leader. This was to make things easier for Jungsoo; only the leader of a group would have to be briefed and then they would brief their group.

He came up with the idea of excavating the catacombs and creating the cavern. Once that process had gotten underway he began purchasing small business and excavating tunnels underneath them.

Yuri’s noodle bar was a perfect place. It was near the Inner Walls, near an Imposer barracks. The restaurant was often frequented by the young soldiers (Jungsoo called this hiding in plain sight; no soldier would guess an outlaw was living underneath their feet!). It was close enough to the Wall to be slightly better off than other restaurants in Outer Seoul. And Yuri; the perfect one to run it; an excellent cook, loyal and someone who could live convincingly under pressure. 

And it was especially lucky they had her; who knows where Junhong would have ended up otherwise.

*** 

Jungsoo rubbed his temples. “Exactly what happened?” he asked.

Hyukjae was Jungsoo’s right hand man, one of his leaders. Street smart and good with a knife, he was invaluable to Jungsoo’s cause. He was sensible too.

But Jungsoo was beginning to doubt that.

Because sensible people didn’t drag in women nobody knew to a secret organisation.

Hyukjae took a breath. “Okay, so I was covering Junhong while he infiltrated the Captain’s manse. When he got caught, several Imposers found me so I bolted. I managed to get a block away before taking the skyline.”

The houses of New Seoul were low, the rooftops flat. Taking the skyline was slang for climbing up onto a roof, and making your escape by jumping from one rooftop to another.

“Once I made it to the skyline, only three followed. I went as fast as I could, but they were quick.”

Jungsoo gave a nod. Not many were better at skylining than Hyukjae.

“I thought I lost them, but went I looked over my shoulder to check my foot caught on a loose tile and fell to the ground. The three Imposers quickly surrounded me while I was down. When I fell I managed to grab a drainage pipe so I didn’t break my back, but I was winded. I was just lying there as one of them leaned over me, and starting coughing up blood. I looked up and I saw her – the Traveller – cutting the throat of another. The third was already dead.”

 Jungsoo frowned.

Hyukjae looked confused. “The street was nearly empty, it was as if she appeared from nowhere,” he continued. “Afterwards, I thanked her and she demanded to meet with you. She knew about the Resistance, and she said she wanted to talk to Jungsoo.”

 “How the hell did she know I ran this thing?” Jungsoo slammed his hand on the table. If anyone could find out about him and the Resistance, how safe were they from the Queen or the Master of Whispers?Hyukjae looked at him tiredly. 

“I don’t know, but she said she wanted to help. She’s clever and good with a knife, and she killed some Imposers and saved my neck. I think that we should give her a chance. Let her prove herself.”

 Jungsoo glared at Hyukjae. “You’re not really giving me a choice here, are you?”

 The elder stood up with an overdramatic sigh. As far as he was concerned they were taking a huge risk, but Hyukjae was as stubborn as a mule. “Fine Hyukjae. Fine. I’ll give her one chance, she may be useful. But you have to keep an eye on her, and be careful: she could end up slitting your throat next.”