Non mihi solum

Not for myself alone.

Green. Ireland was green.

There were about forty different shades of green as far as the eye could see. Explosions of foliage and bushes and plants seemed to be everywhere one’s eyes could land on. The country itself was quiet and tranquil, but in it’s own unique way. Where India was full of bustling villages and Thailand was nothing but the humming bugs and animals of a little farm town, Ireland was filled to the brim with the quiet hum of people as they greeted each other then went on their own ways. He was staying in a small town nestled right next to the coast. There were locally owned establishments on every street. It was as if commercial greed had not yet set it’s black, corrupted hands onto it. Truly traditional.

A local pub in town was where Junhong chose to set down his bags and rest in the evening. It doubled as a sort of local motel and both of the owners were quite kind. He wasn’t sure where to start looking for his cousin, who, long ago sent many letters to him and his family, but he knew this was where he was. Once upon a time, they had received a postcard from the town that he was staying in, and the only reason it stuck was because of the name; Dóchas. It meant hope. Bringing faith to the future, and that’s just what that little town embodied. So many of the people were kind, loving, hospitable. They greeted each other with a smile and parted with the good will of the other. The people were resilient, and though the town had seen the testament of changes with the times, it still remained in it’s own outright way, traditional. However, wherever he looked, there was no kin of his. The kind townspeople politely gave him the bad news. No one with the last name Kim had lived there for decades.

Though there was one place Junhong had yet to check; a castle stood tall and mighty on the horizon of the little town. Though the pub keeper insisted that the structure was too old to have anyone living in it -- save for the occasion  adventurer, of course -- and that it was too dangerous to go inside. The outer walls surrounding the large building were crumbling and falling apart. Not only that, but what led most travellers to avoid the place were the fear-instilling rumours of a large, lumbering beast roaming around the outskirts of the castle. It’d be extremely risky to go there.

But who would shy away from a challenge such as that? Certainly not a certain Junhong Choi.

So he set out early in the morning, birds chirping away their cheery, jubilant songs as he traversed down the cement path leading him out of town. He would be back, he was sure, but just to be safe he took a bag of necessities -- hopefully this time nothing would be stolen from him.

Hours after hours of beautiful, scenery that could have been captured beautifully in oil on canvas. Greens that, with every brush could have been illuminated beautifully into something almost surreal. Trees that weeped like their names told, yet with gorgeous bright yellow branches that gave off nothing but happiness. He travelled long and tirelessly, merely admiring the scenery surrounding him. What he enjoyed most was the animals. They scurried around doing their own things, almost like the people who lived in the town, save for the fact that they seemed to avoid each other. All of the animals worked in their own separate unison. The natural balance of all of their little individual jobs worked together in order to create a delicate harmony, and it was awe inspiring.

Finally, though, he made it somewhere that yielded, for lack of a better word, purpose.

A bright, sandy coloured field. The sun was setting on the horizon, and it cast a soft yellow glow across the sea of dying grasses. Suddenly and unexpectedly, something darted out of the tree line, leaving dark browns and verdant greens to join the light, straw ocean. As soon as the beast leapt into the tall grass, countless bugs were disturbed. They launched themselves in the air, creating the illusion of disturbed pollen being thrown off of plants. The the array of shell-cloaked beings clothed the beast as it made it's way through the field, toting the wisdom of the forest behind it. It was mighty and almost the same sandy colour of the grasses. She walked with all of the pride and history of Africa, where she had left her parents. With a long, lithe body she explored the hard dirt that lay beneath the grass. He made a noise, a step too loud, too brave, and her head perked up. They made unwavering eye contact as she observed him taking steps towards her.

Suddenly, a figure sat up from within the tall grass. His hair was a dusty shade of brown and had been tousled by laying on the ground. He looked to the beast with a sort of curiosity and wonder. She sat down and relaxed her large, muscled shoulders. Then, he turned his attention to Junhong, and his deep brown eyes burned into him like the blinding light of an interrogation lamp.

In that moment, Junhong forgot his bearings and whipped his hands up in front of him in a makeshift karate pose to defend himself if harm come. The beast and the man stared at him in confusion.

He had forgotten he knew magic.

“What are you doing?” The other asked, eyebrow arching in confusion. His voice was deep and soothing, and reminded Junhong, strangely, of his father. The large beast, a gorgeous lioness, tilted her head to the side as well. Could she have been… The man’s familiar?

Junhong could only stumble out a response, as he could feel his face colouring in humiliation. “I… Well, you just came out of nowhere and it scared me, I guess.” He accompanied his nervous mumbling with a weak shrug. “Sorry about that.”

The man answered his bumbling foolishness with harsh gaze and a scowl. “What are you doing out here? No one ever comes out here. They know not to.”

He was able to quickly gather his bearings and reaffirm himself before he answered with the one thing on his mind. “I’m looking for a Himchan. A Himchan Kim. Do you know him? Or if he lives nearby?”

There was a pause. The man seemed to draw into himself more and more as each moment passed. His face was thin, almost sickly, and his eyes were weighed down with heavy bags. The way that he carried himself seemed to be pitiful and almost heartbreaking. He looked like he was dressed to the nines, having a nice grey suit with a light pink dress shirt tucked into his slacks beneath it. Around his neck was some sort of gem that was a deep, opaque black. His shoes were unseen, but Junhong knew they had to be a shiny brown pair of loafers that cost an arm and a leg.

Finally, disturbing the silence as well as more insects, the man got up and began walking away without a word. The lioness followed behind him, sauntering away with nothing short of grace.

“Hold on!” Junhong called after them, following at a safe enough distance behind. “You’re him, aren’t you? You’re Himchan!”

“Shut up!” He whipped around, and the lioness did the same, growling as she assumed a pouncing position. His hands were curled into fists and his eyes were trained on his feet. “Just… Just leave me alone. That’s all that I want. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“But you’re him.” Junhong breathed, pointing a finger at the other. “You’re Himchan. I’ve been looking for you. I’m your family. You used to send us letters.”

He blinked and, for a moment, seemed to be reminiscing to better times. Though his expression quickly grew dark. “I have no family left.” He hissed before turning and walking away.

There was only one thing Junhong could do. He lagged behind Himchan before he began to follow him. He would talk to him one way or another.