INTERMISSION

“Taeyongie! Saeyoungah!”

Taeyong ran, arms swinging on his sides while he threw his head back with a laugh. It’s starting to rain, water catching on his black hair and sticking to his sunburnt skin.  There’s a dark raincloud hovering above them while their shadows disappeared in the rubble, replaced with the gray overcast from the skies.

“Think you can beat me?” Saeyoung panted, catching up with Taeyong as they made a turn at the fork.

“I’ll race you home,” Taeyong grinned, huffing before picking up his speed.

The wind hurtled in his ears as the pitter-patter of rain drummed on his head. Taeyong had always loved the feel of running – the way the wind hit his cheeks, the sound of the earth when it crunched beneath his soles and the warmth of the sun when its rays pelted down on his back. It was raining, however. The water was sliding down to his face and neck and he ran faster, laughing under the rain while it poured out of the sky. Saeyoung, his older brother, was much quicker, running past him with the length of his legs. Up ahead, the golden gates of the palace shone in its full metal finish to welcome the princes. Taeyong sank his teeth in his lips, quickening his pace. Saeyoung had always been the faster one of them. He closed his eyes, running with all the strength he had left while the rain splattered on his cheeks. When he opened his eyes, the gold bars of the gates fizzled past him and he smiled wide when he saw that for the first time, he’d made it to the palace doors first.

“You won,” Saeyoung puffed when he caught up behind him. His hands were clamped on his kneecaps and he slung an arm around Taeyong’s neck.

“You let me win,” Taeyong frowned but his eyes couldn’t hide his mirth.

“Saeyoungah? Oh dear lord, look at you two. You’re a mess!” their mother crouched down on the steps before the huge brass doors. Her purple robe crinkled around her legs and her ebony locks fell over her chest. She smiled and it’s as if a gateway had opened in the heavens with the way she glowed.

There’s mud staining Taeyong’s robe and cheeks, similar to Saeyoung’s current state. He coughed with a laugh while his mother used the tips of her robe to wipe clean his cheeks. Taeyong winced when she hit the deep cut near his right eyebrow.

His mother’s eyes widened instantly. “Where did you get that cut??”

“He fell into the river while we were sparring,” Saeyoung frowned. “I’m sorry, mother.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Saeyoung? You can’t play outside the palace walls. It’s dangerous out there,” their mother told them.

“It was my fault. I asked Saeyoung to take me to the river. Please don’t be mad,” Taeyong pouted, holding on to his mother’s hands.

The Queen Consort smiled, a wrinkle of anxiety dipping in between her brows. “You’ll be a great warrior someday, Taeyongie, but only if you take care of yourself. Here, come with me.”

Taeyong curled his small fingers around his mother’s palm and followed her inside the palace. There were huge lamps hanging on the stone walls and Taeyong smiled, staring at them like how he did the stars at night. His mother brought him up to her bedroom and sat him in front of her dresser while she rummaged through a drawer. It took a few seconds before a bottle of ointment and a small cloth appeared in front of the Prince, and he grimaced knowing what’s about to come. Saeyoung followed them inside the room, plopping himself on their mother’s bed. They watched her dip the cloth in a teacup of water before dabbing it on Taeyong’s wound.

“Ow,” Taeyong winced again, winking an eye.

“Hold still, my love,” his mother said. “This looks like it will scar. But don’t worry, it will all be over soon.”

Taeyong switched his attention to his mother’s dark russet eyes and how brilliantly they sparkled under the lights from the chandelier. She’s beautiful with a perfect nose and a pair of thin, rosy lips.

“There now, that should do it,” she said, dabbing the last of the ointment right above Taeyong's eye. “Does it hurt still?”

Taeyong shook his head. “I’m sorry again.”

She smiled at him softly, ruffling his hair with her hand. “You’re already seven years old, Prince Taeyong. Sooner or later, you’ll have women and men throwing themselves at your feet. You need to take care of that pretty face of yours.”

Saeyoung giggled from where he’s lying on his stomach under the canopy bed. Taeyong threw him a scowl. Their mother was one of the best healers in the North. A couple of decades ago, their father met her while he was in battle with the natives for an ancient piece of land. He was instantly smitten the first time he laid eyes on her. It was even more fitting when he learned that Yejin was the daughter of a Duke from the pool of royal trades. She was the perfect catch and it was for the same reason that their father never let her go again.

“And you, my Saeyoungah. You’ll be thirteen in a few months. You need to be more responsible for your brother,” their mother sang, pushing her drawer shut with a sway of her hip.

Taeyong stuck his tongue out at his older brother. Thirteen was the dreaded year of every Northern Prince. The coming-of-age as adults would say. It’s when they’re finally eligible to become a King by age and by law. That is, if there’s no one else occupying the throne. Their father was currently the highest ruler of the Kingdom of the Golden Serpent.

“Get yourselves dressed. Your father will be home for dinner and he’d want to see you both.”

“He’s coming home??” Saeyoung exclaimed, chin perched up on his elbows. Their father was always out travelling and dealing with different people around the Kingdom, and at times, outside their lands. Taeyong’s brother thought it was all too silly. He believed that a King’s place should be by his family and people’s side. The older prince stood up from the bed, pumping out his chest while he gave their mother a high salute.

The Queen Consort chuckled, swatting a hand on Saeyoung’s shoulder. “Go now, you silly old boy. And take your brother with you.”

“Aye, My Queen Consort!” Saeyoung muttered, his chin raised high. Taeyong was giggling beside him, and he allowed his brother to pull him out of the room, through the large hallways and into their shared chamber, leaving nothing but the echo of their footsteps on the marble floor.

“Where did father go this time, Saeyoungah?” Taeyong asked Saeyoung an hour after, when it was only the two of them left inside their chamber. There were two double beds inside the room, each accentuated by a maroon duvet and gold throw pillows, the body of a serpent embroidered at the heart. Taeyong liked it here. The huge space had become their sanctuary, a place where he had always felt safe with the walls holding their deepest, and sometimes darkest, secrets.

Saeyoung threw a blue robe at his younger brother and Taeyong caught it with both hands. “Wear that,” he said.

Taeyong’s eyebrows furrowed when he wiggled out of his muddy robe. The mark of the golden serpent shone like tiny stars on his arm and he glanced at his side to see the same pattern glistening on his brother’s arm. Each Northern Prince was inked with the same mark at the age of seven. Taeyong got his in summer, around the end of July. He held his fingerpads close to the mark, reminiscing the burn and the sting that came with it. Branding Northern Princes was a reminder that pain and challenges would come with every reign, but it would also bring you the brightest (golden) memories of your years.

“Father didn’t tell me anything,” Saeyoung spoke while he pushed an arm inside his black robe. “But if it interests you, I heard from one of his advisers that he rode to the South to talk to the Emperor.”

Taeyong’s eyes were suddenly wide with curiosity. The belt of his robe was knotted loosely. He’d always struggled with those darn knots. “Emperor Jung??” he whispered, afraid that someone would hear them despite the thickness of the stone walls surrounding their chamber.

Saeyoung nodded, taking Taeyong's belt in his hands to fix the knot. “The Emperor of China died last week. It’s a bit complicated to explain, but from what I know, there might be huge changes.”

Taeyong pursed his lips while he stared at his brother. “What kind of changes?” he asked.

“I… I don’t know,” Saeyoung puckered his eyebrows in thought. “We should wait till father gets home.”

The King arrived at the palace gates a couple of hours after. Taeyong found a seat right next to his mother in the middle of the palace banquet, while Saeyoung took the seat right next to their father at the long dining table.

“Chew your food properly, Taeyongie, or you’ll choke,” the Queen Consort reminded Taeyong, rubbing a hand on his back. She had always been extra caring about Taeyong knowing how much he liked breezing past things despite his clumsiness.

“How was your trip to the South, My King?” Saeyoung asked before taking a sip from his goblet of sparkling water. It was their father’s prime rule that they address him in honourifics with or without the presence of other people inside the room.

The King’s eyes flicked up to stare at the Queen Consort as if asking for some sort of explanation.

“I… I heard it from the men at the board meeting the other day,” Saeyoung explained, folding his napkin obsessively on his lap as a flush crept up his cheeks. “My apologies, Your Majesty.”

The Queen Consort cleared , raising her spoon at Saeyoung. “Did you like the fish, my son?”

Saeyoung nodded, a frown pulling at his face.

“My love, Saeyoung’s been working hard on his Latin and he aced his history and writing lessons too. Lord Jaesuk had nothing but high praises for his academic prowess.” The Queen Consort turned to Saeyoung, throwing him the warmest smile. It had always felt a little stuffy in the palace whenever their father was around and Taeyong and his brother had gotten used to it. With their father constantly absent by their side, their mother tried her best to fill in the gaps with her warmth and love.

The King’s hands were firm when he set his silverware on the table. A cough thundered out of his chest and he grabbed the napkin on his lap and dabbed it on his mouth. “Yejin-ah, I need to talk to you. Alone.”

Taeyong glanced up to look at his mother and there was a hint of worry in her eyes that she quickly masked with a smile.

“Sure,” she said. “Saeyoungah, can you bring Taeyong to your chamber? I’ll have a servant bring your food up to your bedroom. Your father and I need to talk about something important.”

“Y-yes, mother,” Saeyoung stuttered, nodding at Taeyong and motioning for him to follow his lead.

Taeyong sat up, giving his mother a worried look before running after his brother. As soon as they stepped outside the banquet doors, the guards pushed it shut behind them, its low thud echoing in the empty hallway. Taeyong frowned, making his way toward the foot of the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Saeyoung asked, pulling Taeyong by the shoulder.

The younger prince pointed a finger up. “To our chamber?”

Saeyoung grinned with a shake of his head. “Come with me.” His brother pulled him outside the palace main doors, the night wind taking the fall season to a dive below the tens. It’s cold and Taeyong rubbed his hands together, relying on what little heat friction gave. “Over here,” his brother called, crouching down under a windowsill.

The lights were still bright inside the banquet, and Taeyong could hear hushed voices beyond the glass. He leaned in closer and it took a while before he heard something and recognised their parents’ voices.

“It’s that kid. Jaehyun was it? He wants him to inherit the throne of the entire country!” His father sounded angry. His voice was lilting and Taeyong can hear the table giving slightly with every pound of his fist on the wood.

“Seunghyun, calm down. The Emperor may have only wanted all Four Kingdoms to sign the merger in the interest of everyone’s safety,” their mother was still sitting in her chair, watching their father pace around the room.

“Safety?? Yejin, that old man wants us to bow to their reign! I won’t allow my sons to bow down to another ruler. Saeyoung will be the King of the North. He will rule this Kingdom!”

“Seunghyun, please,” the Queen Consort begged. “Didn’t they tell you why they wanted the merger? I’m sure there must have been a reason. They couldn’t have possibly just thought about it overnight.” It’s the first time Taeyong had heard their mother pleading like that, and something inside of him ached. He watched as his father sank into his chair, burying his face in his hands.

“China’s Emperor is dead, Yejin,” the King said, the lights from the chandelier dancing with the lustre of his gold hwangpo.

Taeyong’s mother gasped. “Emperor Dong? But his son…”

“Sicheng is only five years old and he will be declared as the new Emperor in a few days. Unlike us, they don’t require a particular age for you to be proclaimed as a ruler. That poor kid… they will destroy him, Yejin.” The King looked scared. “They will poison his mind.”

“B-but now that the Emperor’s dead… that means the threats will stop, right? South Korea will be safe again.”

The King shook his head, hands gripping on the armrests of his chair. It took a few seconds before he answered, “For a time, it will be. But Emperor Dong had always wanted the entirety of South Korea. It won’t take too long before Sicheng learns this and they will continue to come after us. It’s still not safe.”

The Queen Consort knelt in front of the King, resting her palms on his hands. “We will never be defeated. The North is too strong. We have a lot of men… the natives. Saeyoung is groomed to become the greatest King in all Four Kingdoms.”

“King Kim is dead too.”

Yejin covered with her hands, fear pulsing in her eyes. “No. How? What happened??”

Taeyong bit on his lips as he watched his father shake his head feverishly. “That’s the reason why the Emperor called for me. They are after us. All the Kings and all our successors. That means—”

“Saeyoung!” the Queen Consort exclaimed and Taeyong turned to look at his brother, his face paling out under the moon.

The King nodded. “King Kim’s four sons will start filling in the throne next year, starting with Minseok. They are shutting down their gates from everyone who doesn’t reside in the East and they also refused to sign the merger with the South.”

“But Saeyoung… he can’t—”

“Yejin, listen to me!” the King whispered harshly. Saeyoung pressed his ears against the glass and Taeyong did the same. “I will take Saeyoung with me tomorrow and bring him somewhere safe.”

“Where will you take him?? Where you will take our son?”

“I can’t tell you, Yejin, but you have to trust me. We will come back once it’s safe.”

“Taeyong…”

“Taeyong will have to stay here with you,” the King cut in, his hands bracing the Queen Consort’s shoulders. There was fear in his eyes and something inside Taeyong lurched. “If something happens to me… to us… I can’t let them harm both our sons.”

Taeyong’s mother was crying. Her shoulders shook as she buried her face in the King’s chest.

There was a series of footsteps nearing the doors right next to the windows. Saeyoung pulled Taeyong by the wrist, and they made a run to the other side of the palace, scurrying past the busy guards before they found their way through the west doors. It took them less than a minute to run upstairs and get back into their chamber where Saeyoung threw himself on his bed, limbs spread out while he stared at the ceiling. He was quiet for so long with only the sound of his breathing accompanying them in the darkness.

“I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here with you and mother,” Saeyoung said after almost half an hour of not talking. It’s the first time Taeyong had ever seen his brother look so vulnerable. Saeyoung had always wanted to travel with their father, ride a horse around the Kingdom and meet new people with him. It seemed like everything he had always wanted to do wasn’t as appealing anymore. Saeyoung stood up, walking toward the windows where there’s a bed of pillows waiting for him in a pile. He just stood there, staring at the moon, its supple light glossing over his face.

Taeyong ran to him, arms curling around his brother’s chest because that’s as high as his hands can reach. Saeyoung trembled against him, and he tightened his hold on his brother. There are times when a person’s warmth provides better comfort than a thousand words. This was one of those times.

***

The skies were dark on the day their father left with Saeyoung to ride outside the North. Their mother held Taeyong in her arms, brushing her slender fingers through his hair to comfort him. A part of Taeyong felt his mother needed it more as he watched her smile wither away as they departed. The palace was still and silent for a few days, unconsciously mourning over the absence of its ruler. Where the King was, Taeyong didn’t know. His mother never told him anything. For days, she remained locked up inside her chamber and sometimes Taeyong found her sitting in her chair right next to the windows while she stared at the skies, her face void of any expression and mirroring the emptiness in her eyes.

It was hard to see her like this. She had always been the sun inside the palace, her warmth colouring its walls and touching it with her light. Now that a part of her had seemingly died and went to chase after the King, sadness had crept its way into their home, its spaces turned darker and its atmosphere feeling colder.

Days transitioned to weeks and soon became a month, and still no word was heard about the King and the Crown Prince. There were news about an uprising in the lands inhabited by the natives, and a few dukes and counsellors constantly went to seek the Queen Consort’s advice. With the absence of the King, Taeyong’s mother now held her place as the acting head of the monarchy.

“It’s been five weeks since they had left,” Taeyong muttered, staring at his hands while they lay on top of an open book.

The Queen Consort was stirring her tea while she stared outside, her mind seemingly elsewhere. “I’m sorry, Taeyongie. Were you saying something?” They were sitting in front of each other near the open window of the study room, shelves of books huddled around them. There were huge tapestries hanging on the walls, stitched with the map of the entire North, and she switched her attention to them while she sipped her tea.

“When will father and Saeyoung come back?” Taeyong asked again.

His mother almost choked on her drink and her fingers shook when she set the teacup back on its small plate. “It won’t be too long, my love.” Her eyes actively avoided Taeyong’s curious stare.

Taeyong stood up, walking to his mother’s side and holding her hands in his. “Is something bad going to happen?” he asked as he stared into her empty eyes.

The smile that found its way to the Queen Consort’s lips wasn’t the least bit comforting. “Of course not, my love. Nothing’s ever going to—”

“My Queen.”

There was an old woman standing in the middle of the doors to the study room. Her face was angular and pale, wrinkles drawn around her skin in scatters and her lips were thin and spotted dark. She was wearing a gray robe that fell like ripples around her bare, mudded feet, the soft cotton highlighting her bony and malnourished physique. Her eyes were a faint gray, like the veil of the moon had kept it from the dark, and he was looking at Taeyong with a sense of knowing as if she’d already seen him a thousand times before.

Something cold and frightful coiled around Taeyong’s stomach. It’s the first he had ever felt so bare, all through a single stare that got him reeling, questioning who this woman was. His fingers found their way around his mother’s arm, and he tugged on it tightly.

The Queen Consort was already on her feet, a protective arm laced around her son’s shoulder. “Can I help you?” she asked the woman.

A curious smile slithered its way to the woman’s lips before a couple of guards emerged from the doors, grabbing her by the arms. “Let go of me! I’m here to see the Queen!” she screamed, her eyes still fixed on Taeyong and the Prince was just staring back at her, his eyes wide.

One of the King’s advisers was already at the door, bowing at the Queen Consort in apology. “I’m so sorry, My Queen. We’ll take her outside.”

“Who is she?” the Queen Consort asked as they watched them half-carry the woman outside. She was still fighting with the guards, arms flailing while she screamed.

“We don’t know, Your Majesty. She claims to know the King and she said she wanted a word with you. We suspect that she’s unwell,” the adviser explained, his fingers fidgeting while he spoke. “We escorted her out but she wrestled free from the guards and ran her way here.”

Taeyong’s mother turned to Taeyong. “Sit still, Taeyongie. I’ll take care of this.” She waved a hand at the adviser, motioning for the soldiers to come back. “Bring her to me.”

“My Queen, I don’t think it’s—”

“You heard me,” the Queen Consort’s tone was firm. “Bring her to me.”

Taeyong’s breathing was laboured as he watched the guards the woman back in front of his mother. Taeyong stood up to walk beside the Queen Consort, their eyes wide while the woman wiggled free from the guards’ grasps before standing in front of them with tear-studded eyes. She was still smiling, but there’s a trace of darkness to it. One that had Taeyong clutching the air in his fists.

“Who are you?” his mother asked. The guards were still standing by the doors, their eyes boring craters into the woman’s body.

The woman’s dark hair had gone loose, strands falling over her face, shrouding it in its shadow. Her lips quivered slightly when she spoke, “I am the future.” Silence slipped through the quaint carpet and rose through the walls.

The Queen Consort’s brows furrowed while she stared at her, confusion muddling her tired features. “I want to help you,” she said gently and Taeyong tightened her hold on her protectively. “But you need to tell me your name.”

A high-pitched laughter crackled from the woman’s mouth. “I just told you who I am. The King knew me. He always came to me when he went into the farther side of the North. Our people live past the woods where they referred to me as the White Witch.”

“The natives,” Taeyong’s mother whispered. “I’m sorry but I don’t think my husband ever mentioned your name.”

The White Witch smiled, baring a few missing teeth. Taeyong didn’t understand why she was talking about his father in the past as if he was no longer—

“What do you want?” the Queen Consort asked. The light quake in her voice was hard to miss.

“I don’t want anything from you, but you may need something from me.”

Taeyong’s mother’s lips pursed while the woman stared deep into her eyes. “I didn’t allow them to bring you in so we could play your games.”

The witch’s eyes lit up before she spoke and the words rushed like a song from ,

“The Four Kingdoms shall fall and the men in black shall reign.

One by one, the Kings shall pass before the red rain.

The serpent coils, the wolf departs, the phoenix descends

And the lion will only have to wait before it bends.

First the Kings before the Princes, before the people and before the lands;

The one who lives past shall hold the crown in his hands.”

Silence bled through the walls, filling the empty spaces inside the room. “I—I don’t understand you,” there is a bit of caution in the way Taeyong’s mother spoke and he brought his fingers around her palms to keep her still. They were cold and sweating.

“The prophecy was written by the Gods, My Queen. I am only here to deliver the news,” the White Witch spoke, her lips pulled taut by that knowing smile on . Her eyes brightened when she turned to look at Taeyong. “Every King shall fall until the red rain – a bloodbath that will take over the lands one by one. There will be no stopping it. The Enemy will come for everyone.”

“I don’t even know who you are. Why are you telling me all this and why should I believe you??” the Queen Consort’s voice cracked and she pulled Taeyong tighter in her arms. The Crown Prince could hear her heart racing inside her chest.

“You don’t need to know who I am. The King had always heeded my words,” the woman’s eyes dropped to her hands before a sense of dread filled the gr