i am sorry for not being your savior.

They always said that I didn’t fit the work. Some said I was too tiny to hold the sword and too delicate to slit throat. I personally not fond of ripping souls but sword had always been part of me that I couldn’t let go. With that, came the consequences I had to bear. Fortunately, the boys were bond with the same sin and together we created a circle.

I grew up with Hyukjae in the battlefield fringe. During the day, the rural village was overloaded by the wounded or mutilated soldier. At night, half of them were corpses. Hyukjae and I spent the day in desolate far part of the village, practicing with stolen swords from the dead soldiers. Somehow, we became better every day then one day, we became the strongest.

When both Hyukjae and I were thirteen, Hyukjae lost his home and I lost my dad. In exchange, a wind from the south brought travellers to our village. There were three of them, Leeteuk the leader, Heechul the odd, and Yesung the visionary. The hot-blooded Hyukjae foolishly threw his body towards them and Heechul grabbed him by the neck, far from the ground. I my sword on the leader feet and somehow it amused them. They let us go and after a few days, they came back to ask us to join them.

They wanted us to be a cutthroat for the country. I thought what different it would make to be a futile local soldier than a royal cutthroat, in the end I would not die with my hands—soul—clean; so we agreed. At night, we left. They said we could change our name to whatever we wanted to be call and remember. They said we would be hero. Hyukjae wanted his hero name to be Eunhyuk, no one called him any other except for me. I didn’t think I would want to be a hero, so I kept my name as it was—Donghae.

...

Now, with my body slump against the cold rock wall and both hands cuffed onto two sides with irons, I laughed at the word ‘strongest’. I could not feel my body, I saw the bleeding but I could not feel the flow. I could not feel that my lips were shivering so bad that I began to bite them to bleed. Sometimes though, I could feel the taste of the blood.

At times when I got my senses back, I thought of the boys; the heroes. This time, I thought of my sword, the pitch black iron from the tip to the hilt. With it, I thought of Hyukjae’s twin swords; constructed of silver iron and sapphire gems between it and the golden hilt. I remembered how we spent days clashing the swords with boyish arrogance.

Then I remembered the terror when I thought I would lose my arms and feet. I couldn’t give them up. But now even with my body still intact, I knew I would never my sword again. Nor, I would point my sword towards Hyukjae.

Because Hyukjae died yesterday and I would die tomorrow.

...

We wouldn’t die as hero. None of us would.

...

The war had been going for decade. After the old king dies, the new prince arose. The new king commanded the strongest swordsman of his warrior to create circle of strongest assassins that would lead the battle to win. The first swordsman’s name was Leeteuk and the last was Kyuhyun. The new king gave them gems and women and he had promised them that they would be remember as heroes.

The 13 warriors were gifted with power and victory. The oldest was the best leader and he killed the enemy’s leader in every battle. Heechul, the second, though the most beautiful—loved by both men and women—were the grimmest. He made his enemy fell for him that they voluntarily ed their own sword on them. The youngest was loved by the witches and so he was given protection and every man that tried to harm him was cursed.

Two of the thirteeen died before the final battle. The eleven survived to win. Their name was known all over the country. The ghosts were whisphering them. But the king forgot his last promise.

...

If there was a hero, that would only be the king.

...

Between the thirteen of us, I was the most reluctant to kill. When everyone already had their hands bloodied—even Hyukjae—I had not kill anyone. Till one day, our camp was ambushed. Sungmin, Ryeowook and Hyukjae were killed and it was because I refused to dirty my hands. With their death on my mind and tears streaming, I killed ten men, slitting their throat and stabbing their hearts. I was covered in blood, one man’s blood overlaped with another.

After I killed everyone, the hyung came and told me that this was a test to stimulate me. I ought to have my first—tenth—kill sooner or later. The dead Sungmin, Ryeowook and Hyukjae were back, alive. None of the soldier I killed got back.

...

But that day I realized one thing. I would kill for them than to lose them.

...

At night, we slept together. It started when I began groaning and screaming in my sleep. They said it was better to sleep together than to be awaken by my cries every night. They could have ripped my vocal cord but instead they chose not to leave me behind. Among us, we all knew that I was the weakest of being alone. And somehow, they promised not to leave me alone.

...

It was weird coming from cutthroat like us, but we did fell in love. I fell in love, once. I was twenty. She was a year younger. The king gave us women—I almost used them once—and let us had any women we lay our eyes on street, but the girl I fell in love with was the king’s dancer.

She was a naive girl. Her family sold her and she said she understood their decision. The first time I saw her was when she stood under the moonlight with her crimson gown. I had just came back from battle, all bloodied but she didn’t flinch on the sight of me. I thought she was beautiful and when she spoke to me I became greedy. She was still a before I laid my hands on her. I apologized for ruining her life as I told her I loved her instead she told me she was thankful.

Even when the king knew she had been disloyal and told her to gulp poison, she still said that she was thankful of me for giving her this life.

I was not that thankful.

...

I never fell in love again. Girls were vurnarable being. They died so easily. I didn’t want to love something so easy to die and left me alone.

...

After we won the last battle, destroy the enemy and made everything left as ours, the king new plan was ran. The secret shadow of thirteen strongest warriors must be annihilated. They seized us, wounded us and locked us. We were killed one by one. The king decided that there must not be a hero except the highest majesty and the story of us must die.

Sometimes they had us watched the execution of others. I was there to witness Kangin, Sungmin and Leeteuk death. I thought I lost my senses bit by bit from it. I couldn’t control my fear and I was screaming for their name, begging them not to leave me all alone. Back when I could still able screaming, days and night I kept telling them not to leave me. They never listened.

...

Tomorrow was my turn. I wanted to die before Hyukjae but I didn’t have the privellege to decide. I was not there to watch but before they dragged him out to the field, they let me hear his agony.

I still screamed for their name, inwarldy. Somehow along the way, my desperation turned to hate and I began to resent them. Now as I remember our yesterdays, I loathed them for not being here, for leaving me all one.

More than anything, I was terrified. I blamed them.

...

I had a dream and this was my last dream. It was the day when we first gathered as thirteen. Leeteuk was speaking, “We will be heroes. We will be remembered as the strongest. There won’t be any other story like us. We are the first and the last, the beginning of everything and the end of each dream.”

Everyone was cheering, but instead I told them. “I.. it’s okay for me not to be a hero, but will you promise me that you won’t leave me all alone?”

“Of course, stupid. We will not leave you all alone. Hyung will protect you.”

...

The guards woke me up. Then they began to drag me out of the prison. Heechul was still alive; I passed in front of his prison. My vision was all covered in blood and the only way I found out was because he was screaming. “Donghae-ya, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

His voice was gone as I reached out and I arrived in what seemed to be a field. I could sense the bright light although I couldn’t see the sun and briefly, just briefly, I swore I could feel the sun’s warmth, as warm as the promises on our early days.

They were going to pierce my heart. I thought about the boys, Hyukjae, the girl. I wondered whether they hate me the way I hated them for not being able to be a savoir. I wondered whether I was their last hope too. And how could you forgive the last person that was your last hope?

I wondered whether they had forgiven me. Maybe they had because strangely, as death only distanced by seconds, all I could remember was the bright days and the sweet promises. I thought I could forgive them. I could forgive them for leaving me all behind while dreaming of better life where we could be together, where we were not heroes but we had each other.

I hope they forgave me too.

 FIN

I am sorry for such a random and unedited post. I just felt like writing anything quick and sort-out-raw and so this unclear piece turned out to be the result. This is also because Donghae’s enlistment a few days ago and I felt like I have to post something. My mind is jumbed right now so this is not really a proper story. I would do better in my next story. Please bear with me. Thank you!

Note: Donghae-ya. Do well, be happy, come back healthly. I choose you!