Dear Donghae,

I know, it has been ages since I last wrote. I write this at the end of four years, on the carriage in which I am going home. I know, dear brother, that you won’t be there to greet me. However, I will do as I promised and tell you about my experience at the pure one’s mansion.

You know, of course, that once every four years a hundred men are chosen from 10 villages as nominees to serve the pure one. You know that after a series of hard tests they are put down to one. Four years ago, I was that one. Oh, the glory! Father and Mother were too proud and they wrote letters to all our relatives just to inform them. But I broke down and wept bitterly, quite unwilling to part from the then eleven-year old you. And you, sobbing hard, made me make that promise to tell you all about it when I returned. Of course, now that is quite impossible, as you have left our village to seek your fortune elsewhere.

When I arrived at the mansion, some burly guards let me in after extensive checks all over my body that I didn’t really think were necessary. I then met the lord of the house, and he wore an expression so menacing that if I were anyone else I would have run as fast as I could in the opposite direction, but I was a man on duty. I bowed to him, calm as I could, and I introduced myself, voice shaking. Without speaking, the lord grabbed my arm and led me to a room high up in the mansion.

The first thing I noticed was that the room was white. In fact, everything was white from the walls to the cupboard. He, the young pure one, was also dressed in white robes. I must tell you, since you will be wanting to know, there’s no describing his beauty. What they say is true, he is truly pure and the most beautiful thing on Earth there can be. Anyway, there was nothing but white around here. I found it very unpleasant. His back was facing me, his milky skin and white clothes blending in with the wall easily. Even his hair, long and flowing, was a beautiful whitish-blonde.

Before I could step in and greet the person I was to serve for the next four years, I was pulled to the side by the lord. He gave me a stern glare as he seemed to shackle my arms with his strong hands and began to talk to me. I couldn’t help but notice the difference between the perfect, flawless creature closed within the room and this growling, burly and gangly man, father and son though they may be.

“The rule: Do not touch the pure one.” He growled and glared at me as though I had been planning to break the rule. I nodded quickly. Satisfied, he nodded and left. My heart pounding, I entered the white room. The blonde on the white bed didn’t look up at me or do anything to acknowledge my presence. I did as I was meant to do, staring at him silently.

Days passed, and all the pure one did throughout the whole day was to stare at his fingers or around the room. Sometimes I felt as though he was trying to find a way to escape this insanely white torture chamber he was locked inside. I dearly hoped not, because if it were to come to the worst, then I would have to touch him and I would be burnt alive, the way I’d seen many of them being burnt. By them, I mean all the past protectors of the pure one who had been forced to touch him.

Then one day I heard the normally emotionless pure one crying softly. I pretended not to notice and kept my eyes fixed on a space just an inch away from his body. Soon, I was unable to resist. I looked into those wide grey eyes and what I saw shocked me. It was an expression I’d never seen before, and I couldn’t really understand it. Without warning, he came over and looked me straight in the eye. What did he want?

“I’m lonely, you know.” His voice was soft, yet it sliced the silence so sharply. His silver-white eyes were looking in my direction. I raised an eyebrow, wondering how I was to respond to this situation. “You won’t be touching him… It’s just harmless talking.” The little voice in my head seemed to nag at me to reply, so finally after a decade of hesitation, I did. “You are, pure one?”

He nodded and floated over, ever so graceful as how he’d been taught. I bowed, feeling awkward and self-consious. I was basically a stumbling goat who was unable to control his limbs next to him, the epitome of perfection. Yet he was talking to me, a mere servant. What had come over him?

“Yes, I am, so very very lonely. I spend my days in this room and never get to see of the outside. I never have company and the silence just absolutely kills me.” He said, and I saw sadness in those eyes for the first time. It hit me hard, and I didn’t know why it hurt to see the beautiful and aloof creature in misery. “I am company, though,” I point out.

“But you never talk to me, and furthermore you aren’t allowed to touch me. You will never understand how much I am longing for human contact. And colours, for all I see is white and I’m quite sick of being in this white room. I hate it, there’s no realness in it.” I stared at him incredulously, because in all the land the most revered colour, the purest of the pure, was white. And he, the purest person in all the land, the most beautiful and most envied, was telling me he absolutely loathed it.

Things were quiet again after the conversation. His eyes became cold and he went back to staring around coolly. When his father came to check on him he would get up daintily, lift that expressionless face into a smile and bow. His father would turn to me and say, “Remember the rule” with a hand on my shoulder. But that was all the human contact I had. I could kind of understood how he felt, being cooped up in a room of white.

In the 2^nd month of my stay, he talked to me again.

“What’s your name?” He looked at me with wide eyes. “It was most impolite of me to have had the honour of your company and never ask your name. Please, do forgive me.” I looked up, surprised at his choice of words. I could hardly imagine a universe where this perfect, beautiful creature would be honoured to be in my presence. “L-lee Donghwa, sire.” I whispered, not looking up at him.

Something like a smile came upon his face. “You may call me Hyukjae, Donghwa.” I stared at him. Was that his name? It must be. He looked at me and once again had an expression I didn’t understand. “It is most unseemly of me to say this, Donghwa, but you are terribly handsome. Have you noticed?”

I was at a loss for words and was saved from answering by the lord, who entered the room suddenly to check on his son. Hyukjae’s face lit up, not unlike the sun itself, and he sprang up to his feet to greet his father. I was revolted, repelled by the thought of loving a person that imprisoned you in your own house, far from other humans and even deprived you of any future.

It went on like that for many days, dear brother. The lord came in every week and checked on his son, and I , I was simply baffled. The visits were certainly more often than usual. I soon found out the reason why. He was dying, the lord was. Then the lord one day passed away, and the pure one’s emotions were tainted by grief. His first real taste of loss.

I tell you, Donghae, much as I feared and rather hated the lord, I would gladly have had him, anything was better than his wife. She was a banshee decked out in expensive jewellery and bejewelled clothing. She was pretty, but nothing like Hyukjae and her beauty was wasted for she had a most horrible heart. She almost never came to check on Hyukjae, and I could see it was eating Hyukjae up inside. His days were spent staring forlornly around the room. Sometimes I caught a hint of insanity in those eyes, but I couldn’t blame him either. I was going mad from being stuck in there 3 years, what about him, having been locked in there 13 years?

Then Hyukjae talked to me again one night, and his voice was grim and dead. I sensed he had given up, and it pained me greatly to see it. Although quiet, the pure male had this air around him that had always made me feel as though he was still fighting. Well, up until that time. It was like he’d lost all hope.

“Donghwa…” He whispered. His pale hands reached out for me and before I had time to register it, squeezed my hand. I felt a tingle run through my body at his touch. The smile I hadn’t seen since his father’s death adorned his face again, more beautiful than the sunset, than anything else in the world combined. “Thank you…” He said, and he put those cherry red lips to my cheeks, brushing them slightly. I was too shocked to move. I looked into those dead eyes, and they seemed to change right before me.

He gave me a searching look and his eyes twinkled. “I know you’re scared, Donghwa.” His voice had an odd musical tune to it, kind of sing-song, that I liked. “Don’t be.” I finally found my voice again, and replied, panicked. “Sire, I’m breaking the rule.”

He shook his head, putting a finger to my lips. “Screw the rule, Donghwa.” I stared at him, stupefied. Any moment, his mother or any guard could enter, and I would really be burnt alive. Dread filled me.

But the really shocking thing is, Donghae, no one did ever find us, in those magical moments. Other times, Hyukjae seemed as distant and unreachable as always, but in the dead of the night, he’d become a different person. His entire being would shine and he’d dance, not the stiff dances they teach us for formal balls and parties, but real dance. The kind you put all your heart and soul into. Before I knew it, I was in love with him.

I talked about you a lot, and all the times he heard about your antics, he told me how much he loved you. I knew, somehow, he actually did.

I took him out of the house one night, just for a walk around the rich town. He loved it, all the colours, and all the noise. He told me, with such glee, that he felt dirty. And I felt so miserable for him, feeling so glad to be so dirty and tainted. He held a flower to me, his face a confused mask.

“Donghwa, what is it?”

I replied, “It’s a flower, sire.” To that he laughed gaily and shook his head. “Not the flower, I know what it is. I mean, what colour is it?”

“The colour is pink, sire.”

I looked at him, unable to imagine what it would be like, with no knowledge of anything in the world but the room. And I made a vow to show him everything he had never seen before.

We went out a lot of days after that and he was in awe of everything I showed him, whether it be sunflowers or fishes swimming in a green pond. I discovered what I had suspected the whole time was true: He was illiterate. Of course his parents would not want him to talk to anyone, so they wouldn’t get him a tutor either. I began to teach him to read and write.

I remember when I proposed the idea to him, he had jumped onto me, squealing and screaming like a young girl would. He threw his pale arms around me and his crimson lips crashed onto mine. I don’t know how long we stayed there, kissing, but I do know it was the most perfect moment of my life, Donghae.

The day I first taught him to read, he stared at the words, completely confused, and I helped him recognise every one of them. When he opened his mouth, ready to ask me a question, I thought I knew what it was going to be. But when he spoke, it was far from what I imagined.

‘Can you teach me how to write your name, Donghwa?” I was shocked as I had previously imagined that he would ask me about his own. I wrote it down on a piece of paper, the colour being white that even I hated now. He thanked me profusely, and I was confused.

Hyukjae was a pretty fast learner. Not long after we began, he was beginning to be able to write a proper sentence without my help. Whenever this happened he would smile really wide and ask me if he’d done well. If I said yes, he would bounce up and down like a little kid.

Did I know, deep inside, that those moments were his times of pure insanity? Of course I did. But, Hyukjae had all the right to be insane. In fact, I was thankful for it, as it would give him an escape until the next morning, when he wouldn’t remember. It was better than those nights he had spent waking from nightmares and crying his soul out. It was better for me as well, better than seeing him cry and being unable to help. Now,  I knew I could help, and I could pull him into my arms and comfort him until he stopped crying.

It was reaching the end of my stay with him, and he was growing more desperate for my touch.

Last night, he hid into my chest and sobbed.

“Donghwa,” He said to me in a beseeching voice. “Donghwa… don’t go. Please don’t leave me. I don’t know how I’ll survive this anymore. Please Donghwa. I beg of you.” I shook my head and my entire world tumbled away. “I can’t taint you anymore, Hyukjae”

He looked at me, as if asking for explanations, and I complied. “I am a commoner, and you are the pure one. If you mix with me, then you’re no longer as pure as before.” He gazed at me sadly, and asked, “Is that the only reason, Donghwa? Is it because I’m pure?” I nodded. And he told me before pulling the pure white sheets over himself that night, “Then, I would rather be the dirtiest in all the world.”

Today, when I lifted the muddy sheets, I only saw a dirty bolster and the soiled note.

Do you know what the note said, Donghae?

‘더러운’

Dirty.

Anyway, I guess it’s time for me to go home now, Donghae. When you come back, you can tell me about your adventure too.

Saranghaeyo,

Donghwa.

“Wow, that’s interesting,” whispered a wide-eyed Ryeowook to his friend, Donghae. Donghae nodded in agreement. “Where do you think the pure one has gone, Donghae?” Ryeowook asked. He was currently riding pillon with Donghae atop a horse that was to take them around the world. Ryeowook doubted it would, as it was a very old horse and walked ever so slowly. Donghae shrugged, not really caring.

“Probably dead somewhere, Ryeowook.” Donghae said to him. “He sounds pretty weak to me, anyone could have killed him in an instant.”

Ryeowook sighed, but didn’t scold him for being the pig-head he was being. “Let’s just carry on, Donghae. Who knows, we might meet him somewhere.”

Donghae just rolled his eyes.