Nui Loa was a place full of abundance. Always. The villagers were living in harmony with the surrounding them world, and through good deeds, were always blessed by the gods. The rivers streaming from high mountain ranges were of a crystal color, curing any diseases that would occur, vegetables and grains gathered from the ground held vitamins upholding long lifestyles, and fruits from the trees were of fuller in color and taste than anything else around them.

Nui Loa was heaven on earth.

No winter was ever cold enough to kill the roots and no summer hot enough to burn the leaves. There was never a wind strong enough to bring down the trees, or rain heavy enough to ruin the crops. There was nothing that could destroy Nui Loa, the greatest country of all.

However, although the ground of the village were innocent, their innocence was bought with sins of the hearts of the people, who’s souls were poisoned with vanity.

 

Jongdae woke up from a nightmare, breathing heavily.

“Are you alright?” a female voice asked, and wood cracked in the background.

The boy, who was sitting on a small bed by the window in the corner of a hut, looked outside to the violet sky to calm his mind.

“I think it’s time to come back,” his stated, looking towards a woman sitting by the table, “I’ve got all the names.”

The female was of a small posture, with beautiful long hair and fair skin.

“Let’s do it, then,” the nodded, and moved everything that there was in front of here to the side, and rolled an old piece of paper, “give me the names.”

Jongdae dictated a list of five names, and the woman wrote them all down.

“Justice will be served,” she whispered, standing up.

“They will all be dead, before the next full moon rises, and the whole village of Nui Loa will be damned,” Jongdae spoke, and left the room.

 

“King! My king!” a servant ran into a small room of the king’s house, which stood in the middle of the Nui Loa.

“Kyungsoo,” the crown spoke, “what is it that has you rushing into my house unannounced?”

“The leaves, my king! The crops! They’re dying!”

Once the words were heard around the room, everyone present stood up, terrified at the news.

“Impossible!” the king yelled, “impossible!”

“There’s frost everywhere!” another person yelled, rushing in to stand beside Kyungsoo, “if it gets any colder, it may start snowing, and then . . .” the voice stopped, but everyone understood what was left unspoken.

The king frowned, and quickly made his way outside, to the plaza in front of his house. Just as he had been told, there was frost covering the houses and the ground.

“Siwon,” a young woman rushed his way, and grabbed his arm tightly, “what is going on?”

“I don’t know that yet, my love.”

“Do you think they want another offering? Do you think the spirits want another sacrifice?!” she asked, panicked.

“Don’t worry, my love,” he whispered quietly, “the last sacrifice that we offered them is still being executed. We still have a couple of more moons before the spirits will need to be fed. We’re safe.”

“Then why is everything dying?!”

“I don’t know, but I will figure it out!”

That same day, the king called for his most loyal men, and left the village to go on a quest, to find the source of that dark magic.

 

Two days had passed since the frost appeared in the village, and while everyone was panicking, Jongdae was taking slow walks around the place, remembering every crook and nook from his childhood. He remembered the vivid colors of cherry blossoms, the lovely smell of freshly baked bread, the clear air that filled his lungs. On the surface, everything was the same.

Jongdae smirked.

Under the surface, everything was dying.

“They’re back!” someone yelled, and people started quickly gathering around the main entrance to the village. Jongdae jumped on a stuck of boxes, for a better view, and curiously observed the scene.

The king and his men came back from their quest, and behind them, tied up by his hands and bounded to the last horse, followed a man. Jongdae tilted his head to the side, intrigued.

The man’s skin was almost white, his hair was black, dump, falling onto his face.

Jongdae followed the crowd, staying hidden in the shadows, as they moved into the plaza in front of the king’s house. Just as the crown stepped down from his horse, and the stranger fell to the ground from exhaustion, it started snowing.

The sky went dark, and snowflakes were slowly falling towards the ground. Frost caught on the windows, leaving small patterns. Everyone gasped, terrified, and took a step back, afraid of the newcomer.

A dark smirk adored Jongdae’s lips.

“We found the witch, who brought this fate on us!” the king announced, nearing the black haired boy. “He stinks of black magic!” the man said, grabbing the boy tightly by his hair and pulling his head up harshly, for everyone to see.

Jongdae tilted his head again, taking a good look at the newcomer. His eyes were as black as his hair, his cheeks slightly painted with pink blush, and his peachy lips were parted, a string of blood escaping from the corner, and onto his torso. The man was breathing heavily, and his arms and legs were shaking.

“Look at him!” the king spoke again, “he does not even deny it!”

“How is he to deny anything, when he barely breaths!” Jongdae yelled above the crowd, slowly making his way forward towards the middle of the circle, where the king and the stranger were. “It is not a condition to question, anybody,” he pointed standing in front of everyone.

“Who are you? And how dare you speak in his defense!”

“Oh, my king!” Jongdae exclaimed and took a mockingly deep bow, “would you not remember me? You burnt my mother on a stake, spilled my sister’s blood in the name of the ancestors, and stole the crown from my father’s head, after you chopped it off his body,” he smirked, and everyone gasped, “My name is Kim Jongdae, your highness.”

The king’s eyes grew wider, as he gasped, “Jongdae… we thought… we thought you were dead…”

“Oh, no, not dead, you’re majesty. Just out of sight. After all, not all of your assassins are skilled well enough,” he shrugged, “I decided to come back home, as I kind of missed the place.”

Siwon’s eyes shone, and he looked at the boy at his feet.

“Do you know him, Jongdae?” the man asked, pointing at the stranger.

Jongdae looked at both of them, and then shrugged again, “never seen the man in my life.”

The king hummed, but nodded, “and when did you come back?”

Jongdae smirked, knowing the thoughts that started bothering the elder’s mind.

“A couple of days ago,” he replied, nearing the stranger.

“Stay away, Jongdae,” the king said, pointing his sword in the younger’s direction, “he needs to die.”

“On what grounds?” the boy tilted his head.

“Black magic.”

A few people in the crowd yelled in agreement.

“And what evidence is there, that this man is a witch? He may he just a traveler, who was attacked by one,” the boy suggested, and his eyes darkened.

The people around them went silent, thinking of his words.

“The real evil, may still be out there. You would kill an innocent soul, and only angered the spirts. The winter is coming,” he pointed, “which means you must have already done it. Do you want to anger the spirits more?” he asked, looking at everyone.

“He’s right!” someone yelled, “don’t kill the boy!”

“But what if he’s the witch! What if he kills all of us in our sleep?” someone else pointed.

Jongdae chuckled, and nearing the boy, who by now looked as if he was sleeping, with his eyes closed, head hanging low, arms dropped, and only his chest shivering, he kicked his lightly.

“He’s a dead man walking,” Jongdae pointed, “do you really think he would be able to harm anyone?”

“Step away!” the king ordered, pointing his sword up again, “who do you think you are?! Coming back to a place you’re not welcome to! Telling us what to do, as if you knew best! You do not belong here, anymore! You’re mother was a witch, you’re stained! You’re not one of us! Go back to where you came from!”

Jongdae laughed, and the laugh froze blood in everyone’s veins.

“Yes, I am not one of us—I am better. Yes, I don’t belong here—I belong down there, in that filthy house of yours, where my father’s throne stands. A place I am not welcomed to? I belong here by blood of my ancestors, rooted in these grounds. There is a piece of me in every inch of this poisonous village!” he proclaimed, and disregarding the sword pointed at his throat, he knelt by the unconscious boy and put him on his back.

“Innocent, until proven guilty,” he said, and started walking away.

“You’ll be the death of all of us!” the king yelled, “look at him! Look at your righteous prince walking away with the devil in his arms! Beware, people! Beware!”

Jongdae only smiled, walking into the night of the woods.