Amicitiae nostrae memoriam spero sempiternam fore

I hope that the memory of our friendship will be everlasting.

Junhong knew when it was his time to leave. His only issue was when he was supposed to tell Himchan. It wouldn’t be an easy task, that was for sure, but it was something that had to be done. Going to Ireland was almost like going on a vacation. Himchan didn’t teach him a of magic that was from his class -- which he later found out was abjuration -- but spent enough time boasting over it. That wasn’t to say it was obnoxious to hear about it or anything, it was quite endearing, but after a while it began to become repetitive. As much as he loved his dear cousin there were times that he thought back to Yongguk and missed the home that he had made of rural Thailand.

So when he booked his flight back home, there still remained one key problem; how he was going to break it to his host.

He scheduled his flight a month out, knowing that it would take some time to actually summon the courage to tell Himchan. Courage wasn’t like magic. He couldn’t call upon some mysterious force in his body or utter a little incantation and suddenly gain some insurmountable amount of courage. No, it was much more difficult, and it took a good amount of time to actually build up. Junhong knew Himchan would be upset, but it was difficult to gauge just how upset he’d be. As much time as he spent with him, each and every day for about three months now, it was sometimes still fairly hard to figure out what exactly Himchan’s triggers were.

Family used to be a big one. Whenever Junhong mentioned family Himchan would get upset and lock himself away in that extensive library. However, after that whole bonding moment that they had on the cliff right outside the castle, Himchan had seemed to warm up to him quite a bit. Suddenly the idea of having a family wasn’t so foreboding. They both got what they really, truly desired, and Junhong was looking forward to introducing his cousin to the rest of his new family. The only thing was, Junhong still wasn’t positive if Himchan could handle such exposure. He still proved to be having quite an issue with the village outside his castle. Yes, there were days that he could manage it, but more often than not  there were days where the flow of people coming in-and-out of various shops, houses, and restaurants was too much for him. The sort of change of going to a new country would, quite possibly, kill the man. It would be too overwhelming and Junhong really didn’t want to subject him to that. So that left only one choice.

He had to leave.

He chose to finally, finally tell Himchan three weeks before his flight left. It was over dinner one night, because that seemed to be when Himchan was at his calmest. In the mornings he was tired and slightly irritable -- less so now that Junhong had started making the meals -- and at lunch he would go on about the politics he’d read in the paper he received that morning. He’d only started getting the morning paper a handful of weeks ago after Junhong insisted he get rid of his so-called ‘dreadful boredom.’ It was a way to reconnect him with the outside world without forcing him to listen to that infernal radio with only one station. Said radio had been tossed into the ocean three months prior, anyway.

With a yawn and a stretch, Himchan settled down to eat whatever Junhong had made for him. He had been overjoyed when Junhong set down a plate of steak -- at Sabhya’s request -- along with some greens and a glass of Himchan’s favorite wine. Now that he had Junhong, Himchan was able to eat much more than whatever came in those unmarked packages that showed up on his doorstep once a month. Junhong actually went out to the village to buy real food that he could make meals with.

“You my dear, sweet cousin, have outdone yourself once again.” Himchan paused as he took his first bite of the food that lay out in front of him.

Junhong wouldn’t say he was glad to finally use a fork and knife again, but he sure was grateful that he didn’t have to struggle to pick up his food with chopsticks anymore.

“You flatter me,” he responded, fiddling with some of the greens on the plate in front of him and hesitating to make eye contact with Himchan.

“Junhong, no, I’m serious. You really have outdone yourself. This tastes amazing!” He chuckled as he placed a fork full of the tender steak that Junhong had cooked for dinner between his lips.

Himchan seemed so happy. Junhong truly didn’t want to say anything, but he had to even if watching that smile fall would tear his heart apart.

Without further ado, he mustered up the right amount of nerve and said it; “I’m leaving.”

The fork in Himchan’s hand clattered against the table as it fell from his fingers. He blinked a few times, presumably trying to swallow the information that he was just given. He cleared his throat, once, twice, and a third time. “Say that again, please?”

“I’m going back home, Himchan.” He tried to say it as gently as he could.

As soon as the words left Junhong’s mouth, Himchan stood, effectively startling Sabhya “Did I not make it nice enough here for you?!”

Before Junhong could even speak, the windows began to glow bright red before the glass went completely opaque black. The door to the dining hall shut with some strong, angered force that could only be defined as wizardry. Then the silver, which junhong still had between his fingers, flew up and gathered around Himchan. It acted as if it were some sort of protective shell, like a porcupine to its quills. Yongguk had spoke of this just before they started training.

“Be mindful of your emotions; don’t let them get out of control. Magic is affected greatly by strong emotions.”

Junhong figured that was exactly what was happening. The entire castle, after all, had been rigged in favour of Himchan’s protection. The salt on the window sills and the amulets hung on the walls seemed to just be ingredients waiting to be activated, and his magic was the catalyst. Thus, the reaction that was happening now was fueled in it’s entirety by how much he didn’t want Junhong to leave. He was an abjurer, as he had introduced himself as, and the main power of his magic was to protect. For a little over a decade that was what he had been doing. Having swore off the outside world, he’d built his own fortress to keep him safe, and it seemed as if Junhong was risking this newfound openness just by saying he was leaving.

Yet he had no choice.

“What is it that you want?” Himchan uttered weakly, the silver that had accumulated around him now falling to the ground as he collapsed back into his chair. “I’ll give you anything, Junhong, just please stay.” Sabhya had laid her head in his lap and looked up at him with pleading eyes. She as well as Junhong did not take any sort of joy in seeing Himchan like this.

“I just want to find out more about myself,” he admitted. From the moment he picked up that book at the library he had been given an actual sense of purpose. After so long of floating around, aimless, he’d finally had gotten the adventure that he could only fantasize about as a child. “I want to know why I was put here. I need to find out about this damn book that ruined my life and figure out who I’m supposed to be and what I’m supposed to do.”

There was a moment of silence between them, Junhong’s words hanging in the air. It was Himchan who chose to disrupt that thin blanket of quiet that had draped itself upon them.

“I don’t want to be alone again.”

In merely a moment, the legs of Junhong’s chair was screeching across the tile floor and he was walking the length of the long dining table, following the silk table runner that spanned to both ends of it. He stepped over the newly polished silver and around the lioness whose shoulders remained slumped in worry. His long legs bent down as he embraced his cousin in one of his father’s trademark hugs. It was warm, it was tight, and it held all of the love that he could muster.

“You’ll never be alone. I promise.” He spoke from his heart, each word dripping with sincerity.

Another stretch of quiet passed before there was the distinct small sound of sniffling coming from Himchan. Junhong comforted him all throughout the bout of tears, despite his shirt becoming damp where Himchan’s eyes rested. Though he was put in an awkward position -- physically, of course -- he didn’t leave even when his legs began to cramp up. He wouldn’t do so until he fully knew the other was alright.

“When are you leaving?” It was soft, tentative, and riddled with a special sort of fear that only came in the face of loss.

“Three weeks,” came his small response. It gave hope to the coming weeks, that though they wouldn’t stretch on forever they would be rife with happiness, safety, and most of all, them.