Carthago delenda est

Carthage must be destroyed.

The following weeks since Daehyun’s village had been infected were nothing short of hectic. Daehyun was in and out of that little shack like Road Runner being chased by Wile E. Coyote. He constantly had some sort of mask over his mouth -- presumably to keep from getting ill -- and always left with herbs heavy in his arms. He spent the nights either sleeping like a rock or looking for answers in one of the many spellbooks he had lying around. “There’s got to be something,” he always whispered to himself. “I just can’t see what’s going to come next.”

He was obviously in a state of extreme distress. It seemed as if his entire world was falling apart and slipping between his fingers. His newly adopted mantra was “I can’t see anything, I can’t see anything,” as he paced in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning with a cup of tea. Already had he lost countless citizens from the village -- including the little boy Aarav that he was so fond of.

Junhong remembered when Aarav died. Daehyun had come home, hands dirtied by soil and herbs, with the most devastated look on his face. He spent the remainder of the day with a blanket covering his shoulders and a glass of lukewarm water in his hands. His fingers shook every time he took a sip and often tears would just fall from his eyes without any other sign of crying. Rani constantly hovered around him to comfort and watch over him. Finally, just as Junhong was falling asleep, Daehyun muttered, “Never before have I seen death as something so cataclysmic.”

Thus, it was a sleepless night for the both of them.

The next day, Daehyun went on the same as before. He was gone before Junhong awoke and came back right as he was going to bed. Of course, Junhong wanted to help out as much as he could, but Daehyun stopped him immediately. “I don’t see good things coming from this. You stay here and watch Rani.” He then left, effectively losing himself in his work. No matter how hard he worked, though, Daehyun couldn’t save anybody. The walls of his sanctuary were collapsing around him, and his kingdom was coming to an end. Magic wasn’t able to help him in the way he needed, and the one gift he had ever received failed him. The future was black.

Eventually, the government took a preemptive measure. Junhong awoke to smoke billowing in through the curtains covering the doorway. It made his eyes burn and clouded his vision. He shook Daehyun awake, urgently pleading him to open his eyes. Daehyun stirred, and eventually woke up when Rani woke up herself. The three then ran outside, Junhong with his book underneath his arm. It couldn’t have been a wildfire as it had rained just recently. No, it was something worse.

Towering flames engulfed the various huts in the village before them as the sick and dying remained asleep or unable to move. They at the inky night sky, illuminating a scene that seemed brighter than the stars. The smell was awful. It was the scent of death, dying and destruction. They both stood, watching as orange and red replaced the earthy tones of the meager village. Chickens flew around in their pens, attempting to shake off the flames. Finally, Daehyun could watch no longer and broke into a run towards the fire. Junhong was able to catch up to him and stop him just before his bare foot was placed upon a burning piece of straw that had fallen off of a hut’s roof. He collapsed in his arms, sobbing into Junhong’s nightshirt.

“I was going to save them!” he yelled, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I promised him I’d save them! I was close… This close!”

“There was nothing more you could’ve done.” Junhong attempted to keep his tone even, despite having to look at the pitiful burning village in front of him. “They’d have died anyway. If the scientists couldn’t find out what was wrong, then maybe there really is no cure.”

Daehyun shoved himself out of Junhong’s arms and wiped at his eyes. “That’s bull! Those scientists don’t know what they’re dealing with. This is far beyond what they’re capable of. They don’t know,” he began, sniffling. “They don’t know the gravity of this disease, nor do they know the nature of it. It’s magic, Junhong. The only thing that stops magic is magic.”

There was a stunned silence that hung between them. “What would he say if he saw all this?” Daehyun finally said, collapsing to his knees. All Junhong could do was wrap him in his arms and wait for the fire to go out by itself.  

Another sleepless night.

The next morning was filled with grief and the sort of silence that makes one’s stomach churn with anticipation. Daehyun spent the day sitting on his doorstep looking out at the charred village that lay before him. His eyes were weighed down heavily by exhaustion and every so often he break into a fit of uncontrollable sobs. Junhong did what he could; he made tea, tidied up and even went to the bazaar for food. However, the other refused to drink, eat or even acknowledge Junhong. This went on for days on end. Daehyun would fall asleep with his head leaning against the doorframe and awake in the same position. His back suffered from the awkward position and in turn so did his sleep. Rani did what she could, but even as his familiar she couldn’t even reach him. It was as if he was on a whole other plane of existence, one where everyone was alive and thriving and he was looking on fondly as they flourished.

Junhong knew what Daehyun was going through. Daehyun had lost everyone he lived for, his family. He lost those he laughed with, cried with, and helped. Every fibre of his being was invested in that little village. Junhong could see it in the way he greeted them and the how he talked with a gentle, nurturing tone. It was in his tentative touches when he was taking care of them and with the genuine smiles he’d get whenever he was around them. Daehyun truly loved them.

The first words that he uttered, after eight days, were heavy and sat at the pit of Junhong’s stomach. “I saw this coming, yet I thought it was impossible for it to happen.”

He turned and looked at Junhong with regretful eyes, “I was blind.”

There were no words exchanged after that. Daehyun simply went on as he had before, as if he received some sort of guilt-filled clarity from just those few sentences. For the first night in over a week, he joined Junhong on the mat on the floor. In the morning, he even went to bazaar from herbs. However, he just seemed purposeless. There was really no point in purchasing those herbs because there was no one to help with them. It seemed as if his foresight had left him for good, as he no longer absentmindedly recited what he saw in his mind’s eye. He spent the days reading novellas or even drawing in the sand just outside of the village. Not once had he gone into it, but he spent time scraping the names of those he’d lost into the charred ground. The list went on for several feet, and that night Junhong found himself weeping at all of the precious lives that had been stolen all for the sake of ‘population control’.

———

Enough was enough. Daehyun had every right to grieve, but this was ridiculous. He had virtually no use for the things that he bought from the bazaar, and therefore whatever he brought home had been accumulating in the corners of his shack for the past month. Junhong turned to learning that ‘wizard language’ himself because Daehyun would leave at dawn and return at dusk with an armful of purchases. They’d sit in silence for a few hours until one of them decided to go to bed, usually Daehyun. They slept where they could fit as all the different herbs and spices were slowly encroaching upon the middle of the room.

One particular night, Junhong set his small teacup down rather forcefully, successfully gaining Daehyun’s full attention. “I’m going back to Thailand.” He said simply.

Daehyun grew sad, and suddenly looked extremely weary, but his words betrayed his feelings. “That’s good to hear, my friend. Yongguk must certainly miss you.”

“You’re coming with me.”

He was taken aback, and looked visibly confused. “I can’t, friend, I’ve got things to take care of here. Can’t you see?”

“They’re all dead, Daehyun!” Junhong gestured to the collection of things around them. His eyes were beginning to water. “There’s nothing left for you to do. Stop buying these things. There’s no one left for you to help here. Do you know how hard it is to watch you go on like this? You can work for some imaginary village for the rest of your life or you can come back with me and see Yongguk again.”

He stood and grabbed his dilapidated backpack and his book. Daehyun didn’t breathe a word, and instead just watched him with stunned eyes.

Junhong lingered in the doorway, tears falling down his face. “We’re your family, too, you know?” He paused, hoping the other would say something, even just one slight utterance, yet nothing came. With a disappointed sigh, he began walking. There was no telling how he’d get back to Thailand without a plane ticket, but he was hoping he’d find some way to acquire one.

He walked through the village, keeping his eyes trained on his feet that were traversing the blackened ground. There was no way he wanted to lay eyes on that awful scene in broad daylight. When he had almost passed through the brunt of it, there were hasty footsteps behind him. Junhong whipped around, making direct eye contact with Daehyun. There was a tan bag slung around his shoulders filled to the brim with flowers and books and notes. Rani was at his side, stretching her long legs.

“Hold on, friend,” he gasped with a light smile on his lips and attempted to catch his breath. “I can’t let you leave without me. You need a plane ticket, after all. And there’s still so much left to teach you.”

Junhong smiled, holding out his hand. “It wouldn’t be the same without you, my friend.”

Daehyun nodded and took the hand offered to him.

“The same thing could be said about you.”