There was once a time when magic was affluent in the world, a time when no one knew of evil. But the world was destined to welcome it eventually. It had been long written that magic was to fade along with the purity of the world. But the ones driven by evil strived for ways to keep their magic by their side. Many had failed, many eventually gave up and forgot, for they realized magic was not the only way to profess malevolence. And so the world progressed, welcoming every good and bad that followed the recantation of its magical blessings.

But there was one maiden who had been blessed with immense magic, who had begun to harness an impossible wish, a wish that could bring forth vice. Her growing resolve made her magically weaker, and she hence took another resolve- to keep her magic at all costs.

She had once been uncorrupted, she glimpsed the world from a different perspective but she soon realized a lifetime would never be enough for her to enjoy it as much. She began to wish for immortality, for youth, to be able to explore the wondrous world she lived in, to revel in the blend of her magic and the marvels the world was filled with.

But in her quest, her reason grew trivial.

The joys of the world were nothing in comparison to the old she saw suffering, nothing in comparison to the pain she saw in the dying.

She was driven to find eternal life and youth, but while her quest lasted, she needed to live, she needed to stay healthy, for which she began attempting to conserve her magic, sealing it away in other beings whose existence had no impurity. She tried sealing her magic in objects like jewelry and rocks, in beings like ravens and trees, but the magic never stopped fading for objects had no life; and ravens and trees had no will or power to sustain her magic. No matter where she sealed her magic away, the shadow of her evil intent remained, rendering her every attempt futile.

She wandered, travelling from town to town, forest to forest, kingdom to kingdom, in search for everything she desired- the secret to immortality and eternal youth, the means of retaining her magic. She began to sin, taking away the magic pure souls possessed when she found herself weaken. She had become desperate and finally, upon one day of her journey, her desperation found solace.

Whilst building a small cottage in a thick forest, one of the stops of her journey, she stumbled upon a cliff on the other side of the river. At the top of the cliff, between small rocks was a frail shrub, growing amidst vines, which contained a droopy young bud of shimmering violet, immediately grasping her attention. It was a plant which was only rumoured to exist. Its nectar was the sweetest, its petals the most beautiful and according to the legends, it contained magic that could heal, that could purge- magic that would not fade until it died. The plant was a long forgotten symbol of the forces above, signifying eternal youth and life for it would never wither, it would never die, unless it was intentionally destroyed.

It took her days of effort to reach the shrub for it was too high and difficult to traverse the rocky cliff, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t uproot it to take it away, for its roots were tangled strong amidst the rocks. She feared other methods of uprooting may cause the plant to die so she left it to stand between the rocks. But she had to protect this wonder from calamity, from man, and hence she rebuilt her cottage nearby, cleared a secret path for herself to approach it and concealed the plant from other eyes.

After settling and confirming that no man crossed the forest, she approached the plant in the dead of the night, transferring her grey strong glittering fumes of magic into it in portions. The shrub took her power well- it did not wither nor did it weaken, nor did it let the magic fade away- it grew strong instead. One night after many nights of soaking in her magic, the bud finally bloomed into a beautiful bellflower, its violet petals ending in white tips while specks and wisps of silver flitted around as it opened completely.

She watched in awe, the specks and wisps touching her as they rotated around the spot, colliding with her body. She felt lighter and the ache in her joints vanished; she watched her aged, blemished skin become tighter and untainted.

She ran back to her cottage, quicker than she could have managed before and peered into her mirror, a victorious smile on her young face as she ran fingers through her hair, finding them gray no more.

She had finally attained what she had been looking for.

Years and years passed.

She stayed young, she lived in health, one lifetime, two lifetimes, three lifetimes. And soon she lost the count.

Magic had left the world for good and she confirmed it with her travels, finding it nowhere.

She married rich men, enjoyed the luxuries, travelled more, always coming back to the forest secretly to replenish her health and beauty.

But one night, when she returned to do so, she saw no flower, for the shrub had been pulled out, and what remained were dismantled vines and  footprints of the thieves.

Times were rough in the Sunhan Kingdom, for the Queen was expecting but had grown ill with a disease unknown, a disease which jeopardised the heir’s life as well as her own. The King had summoned every doctor and midwife and after numerous, lengthy trials, every one of them said:

“Only one of them may live, Your Highness.”

The King was desolate, for he had been waiting long for his child, but he loved his wife far more to sacrifice her for an heir.

But one day, walked in an old scholar, holding a battered book, claiming he knew of a cure.

“The Pearl Of Eternity.” He spoke excited, yet careful, “It is a wildflower, a symbol of the Heavens, Your Highness. It is known as the only blessing the Heavens decided for the world to keep and within it lies every answer, every cure.”

The King frowned, his gaze stuck on the beautifully drawn picture of a violet, glimmering bellflower, “It is a mere fable.”

“But, Sire...what if it is not?”

The King sighed, deep in thought as he stared at the image. A few moments later, he shut the book, handing it to the scholar before turning to his General, “Release the whole army in the Kingdom and beyond in search for the Pearl Of Eternity.”

Not only soldiers but common men too aided the quest for the wildflower, for they were constrained in time. The time of labor was approaching and the Queen was in grave pain, her agony making everyone lose hope.

But the General arrived in time, his appearance speaking loud of his effort, holding a potted plant covered with muslin. Uncovering it, he presented it to the King, who took it, hands shaking, eyes wide in disbelief at the big glowing flower.

It was taken away to the Queen’s chamber instantly, where it bloomed when the night arrived, emanating silver wisps that eased the Queen’s pain. Seeing her face gain color, seeing her relax, the King ordered every part of the shrub to be used in curing his Queen.

From the nectar to the petals, from the stem and leaves to the roots, the Queen was served every segment, which she relished in order to recover. She gained strength as the days passed and exactly a week later, the Kingdom rejoiced in the birth of their Prince, who was beautiful no matter how one looked at him.

He had skin that glowed like a pearl, hair a blend of violet and silver, eyes of different, odd colors- one silver and the other violet- and a voice as sweet as nectar.

The Prince’s birth was celebrated for weeks and the King and Queen finally concluded it with the naming ceremony. After the series of celebrations, they stood at the cradle, watching their Prince sleep, admiring him and the pendant they had adorned him with to mark his birth, praying in gratitude for being able to see this day.

The pendant was beautiful if anything, matching the infant’s beauty. It hung in a gold chain, having a bellflower carved and adorned with amethysts, above which lay his name intricately engraved.

Taemin.

A look more at their peaceful son and they departed to their bedsteads, jubilant. Their son was a miracle, and they were going to treat him like one; and they slept, with thoughts and hopes of showering Taemin with love, granting him the world.

But when they woke, Taemin was gone, leaving only ruffled sheets and shattered hopes behind.

Faraway, in a cottage by the side of a waterfall, she uncovered the infant she had kidnapped after having followed the soldiers’ trail, who lay fast asleep in her arms. She waited for him to wake, she waited to confirm what she suspected- the infant prince was her only hope to survive.

He woke in the morning, crying loudly and no matter what she did, he would not stop. In the end she fed him some warm goat milk and he quietened, beginning to kick his arms and legs to play. She watched him with anticipation, observing his odd eyes- silver and violet, his hair of the same strange blend in curiosity, waiting for any indication that the boy carried the magic she had poured into the flower.

And soon when the infant’s play became excited, sweet sounds accompanying his kicks, silver pearls of light began to emanate, rotating as he continued to cheerfully play. She grasped one speck, watched it get absorbed in her skin, felt her arm be replenished of its weariness, of its ugliness. She chanted in a strange language, and found grey fumes play around her arm. A smile strewed on her face as she watched the infant more. He was like the flower, containing all her magic in blend with the inherent healing it had possessed.

She decided to take him away where no one could find him, where no one could ever taint him, because he had a heart and mind in the end, he was human, it was easy for humans to let in impure emotions. To keep his soul free of impure emotions, for him to retain the flower’s magic and her own, she had to raise and keep him pure. At least for as long as she could find a way to separate the magic within him for herself.

“Son.” She whispered, knowing well that being a mother to him was the only way she could ensure him to never leave before she was ready to discard him. She shifted the sheet he was wrapped in, amused on finding the pendant on his body.

“Taemin.” She cackled, caressing the boy’s fair, glowing cheek with her nail. It would be quite easy to raise him; for, naming him, the very first burden, was already off.