The cicadas were silenced and the nightingales were mute; the sun had awakened. With the cockerel's distant call, a new day was born. Blood was spilled once more during the night--nothing too unusual for Porles. To Daehyun, however, it was a very eventful night. For in his eyes, sleepless nights were as plentiful as feathers on a bird and undisturbed rest was as rare as the feathers of an angel. Daehyun had to wonder; was it because Youngjae had told him to sleep well? Was he just blindly following his command? No matter; Daehyun wasn't complaining at all. Why would he? He hadn't slept that well in all the years of his life.

A blinding light seeped through Daehyun's eyelids and tore through the darkness. The dewy air felt cold against his skin and he shivered beneath the blankets. As his lips parted to release a yawn, his breath took the form of mist right before him. Through dormant eyes, Daehyun looked around the room until his gaze fell upon the pile of clothing Youngjae had set aside for him. Leaving behind the comfort of the bed, he stood up to get ready for the day. His feet met with the hardwood floor, sending chills up his spine. He picked up the article of clothing at the top of the pile--a blazer. He went to the mirror and held the blazer up to his torso. Daehyun's eyes widened as he marveled at his own reflection, before realizing that he was supposed to put the blazer on last.

With his tongue craving the warm sweetness of tea, Youngjae walked past the hallway's doors. Past the dimmed lighting and the potted Poinsettias; past the library's doors and the portraits of deceased family members. 

"Good morning, father." Youngjae whispered to himself as he walked by Yoo Jinsoo's portrait.

How long had it been since he died?

Oh.

10 years.

It was a whole decade ago when grief struck the Yoo family; it was a whole decade ago when death claimed--no, stole Youngjae's father. Though, Jinsoo was a very forgiving man; he would've told Youngjae to forgive his killer, whoever it was--the culprit was never identified.

He slowed his steps as he made his way to Daehyun's bed chamber.

He should be awake by now.

Arriving outside the room, he twisted the brass doorknob and slowly pushed the door open. 

"Daehyun, it's time to wake--"

As though his breath had been stolen from him, Youngjae stood in silence. He stared at Daehyun in utter amazement. Daehyun looked back to Youngjae.

"Good morning, Youngjae." He greeted with a sweet smile. 

Yes, Youngjae realized that the clothes he had given Daehyun were a little large on him but he looked breath-taking, nevertheless. Barely a day had passed since he first saw Daehyun in Porles and already, he seemed much healthier and more alive. He had literally changed overnight.

"Good morning to you too, Daehyun." He replied as he entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He watched as Daehyun threw a tie around his neck and pulled at the ends in different directions.

"Do you know how to tie a tie?"

Daehyun looked at Youngjae from the mirror and shook his head. 

“Here, I’ll do it for you.” Youngjae stood up in front of Daehyun. As he took the two ends of the tie in his hands, Youngjae hummed to himself.

"Did you sleep well?" Youngjae asked as he helped Daehyun put on the blazer. Daehyun nodded and Youngjae smiled back as he fixed Daehyun's collar.

"That's good."

The floral scent of tea drifted from the kitchen as they sat around the dining table. Various jams, breads and slices of meat were laid out in front of them. With the vacant seats, Daehyun wondered why it was only he and Youngjae that were seated at the table.

"Because," Youngjae began

"They all have to eat in the servants' hall."

Daehyun tipped his head to one side. "And if they don't?"

Youngjae lowered his teacup before looking up to reply.

"Mother will get mad."

Pitter-patter went their feet. Yoo manor was a lot larger than Daehyun had expected. By midday, Daehyun still had many rooms to see. Afraid that he would get lost within the manor's many rooms, he never let Youngjae out of his sight. The silence between them was neither awkward nor relaxed and all that could be heard were their footsteps echoing against the walls. Youngjae was leading Daehyun to the library--the place where he spent most of his time. As they turned around the corner, Youngjae noticed the same portraits he had passed earlier that morning.

"These," Youngjae began as his hand motioned towards the paintings. 

"Are some of our deceased family members." Youngjae walked ahead and stopped in front of the portrait at the very end.

"That's my father." He sighed.

Daehyun stood in shock as he stared at the portrait of Youngjae's father. He seemed so familiar, like Daehyun had seen him before. There must have been a reason behind his uneasy feeling. He knew he'd seen that man before. But how?

"His killer was never found."

It was at that moment he remembered. He knew the reason behind his unease. He remembered everything. He knew why that portrait of Youngjae's father seemed so familiar. What was his name? Jinsoo, was it? Yes, Yoo Jinsoo was his name. The disappointment in Youngjae's voice when he said that the killer was never found hurt Daehyun more than all of the times he was made to bleed. Guilt flowed throughout his veins for at that moment, he knew that it was all his fault.

It was he who killed Youngjae's beloved father.

On that eventful day, ten years ago, Yoo Jinsoo was murdered--by Daehyun. He remembered exactly how it felt; when his blade tore through skin and dug deep into flesh. He could remember the helpless screams and the latter's blood drying on his hands. It was sinful. Daehyun regretted every moment of it. 

How sick and twisted is the past, with its arrows readily aimed at you. See how it is without mercy, how even uttering a single name or seeing one's face from beyond the grave can easily haunt someone. The past never forgets. Mistakes--no matter how much they are regretted or repented; they will be punished, for the past never forgets.

Neither jagged blades nor burning flames can compare with the torturous memories suffocating you with guilt. Those demons that live within you will tear apart your sanity; they'll use your tongue for their own words. Even if you beg for mercy, those memories will never leave you. You can't escape your own thoughts.
 
Jung Daehyun was born into a poor family. His father was a fisherman and he was often away from home. Daehyun rarely ever saw him. His mother stayed home and looked after him. Sometimes, she would bring Daehyun with her to a nearby forest, where he would help her collect firewood for selling. They lived in peace like that until soon after Daehyun's ninth birthday.
 
That was when they learned that his father had died out at sea. The sea was a cruel mistress, especially to the remainder of the Jung family. His death brought along great grief and misfortune to them. Daehyun's mother, Jung Dina, was unable to provide the money they needed to stay alive.
 
At the young age of eleven, Daehyun returned home one afternoon after gathering firewood and found a man harassing his mother in their own house. The memory was scarred deep into his mind; he could never forget it.
 
The man was pinning his mother against the wall. Daehyun was filled with rage--nobody had the right to treat his mother like that.
"Listen to me, woman." The man yelled into her ear.
"You will become my concubine and I will end all of your financial problems." He demanded.
Dina turned to look at Daehyun. Her eyes were ridden with fear. He couldn't bear to see her like that. 
"My son," She reached her hand out to him. Her whole arm shook as it lay suspended in the air. Should he have taken her hand in his? He couldn't--he stood there, paralyzed by fear. Daehyun couldn't even blink, for he was afraid that by the time he opened his eyes, his mother would be gone. No, Daehyun could do nothing but let his tears stream down his cheeks.
"Oh, you mean that little bugger?" The man looked at Daehyun with the grin of a shark.
"You're asking him to help you?" He mocked. The man took a bottle and threw it at Daehyun, hitting his head. He fell to the ground helplessly.
"How pitiful!" The man laughed.

Daehyun could feel his skin stinging from the shards of glass that have pierced him. Seeing the man ripping apart his mother's dress, despite her distressed cries--it angered Daehyun. His tears were mixed with his own blood as he looked down at the ground. He was surrounded by glass. Taking care not to let the man see him, he reached down and picked up a larger piece. Testing its sharpness, he squeezed the glass shard in his hand until he bled.
Yes, this will do.   
Daehyun stood up with trembling knees and crept behind the man. He took a few deep breaths as he felt his own heart pounding in his ears. Wielding his makeshift dagger, he jumped onto the man's back and clawed his way up to his neck.
 
He could see the shock in his mother's eyes as the man collapsed in front of her. He felt nauseous at the sight of his blood-stained hands. Daehyun himself was shocked at his actions, for it was at that moment, in his eleventh year of life, when his once pure hands were forced into murder.
 
Seeking refuge from the trauma, Daehyun turned to the hands of sleep to forget everything that happened. What was once his sanctuary ultimately became his definition of Hell; his eyes were tormented by the grotesque images that feasted on his fear. From that day forward, those images haunted his thoughts and every time he lay down his head, nightmares gradually tore apart his innocence. When the child awakened from his restless slumber, he was greeted by an envelope next to his pillow. Inside it was an invitation that lead him to what was meant to be the rest of his life.
 
At that time, Daehyun knew nothing about The House Of Cards. Though she was reluctant at first, Daehyun managed to convince his mother to accompany him to the rendezvous. For three days and nights, they walked from their home in the city of Karivia, hoping that their feet would lead them to Porles.
 
Months later, Daehyun became a notorious assassin, not only within The House Of Cards, but to the whole country. Publicly known by the sobriquet 'The Black Butterfly', he tailed his targets from the rooftops and swooping down to attack; his black cloak resembled the wings of a butterfly. He wielded two silver daggers that were as sharp as they were deadly in his hands. Of course, no one was able to catch him--his nimble feet allowed for an easy escape. His black mask revealed nothing more than his eyes; Daehyun wanted to keep it that way. After all, who would suspect that a twelve year old boy was a merciless assassin?
 
His final victim was probably the one Daehyun regretted the most. He was offered plenty of gold to assassinate the duke of Porles--Yoo Jinsoo. Without hesitation, Daehyun accepted the offer.
Beyond the outskirts of town, Daehyun hid himself behind one of the many oak trees and awaited the duke and duchess' carriage. As the carriage passed by, Daehyun threw his daggers, piercing both of the horses in the head and disallowed his target's escape. Revealing himself, Daehyun stepped out of hiding and retrieved his two daggers from the horses' skulls. The sound of shattering glass was deafening to Daehyun's ears as he jumped in through the window.

Daehyun's merciless blades left dozens of cuts across the man's torso. The eyes of the soon-to-be-widowed duchess were stricken with distress as she watched her husband coughing up blood. Her misery could be heard as she let out her painful cries. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she stared at Daehyun with desperation.                                                                                                                                
"Please spare me, I beg of you. I-I have a son. I promised him that I would be back home before nightfall." She cried.                                                                                                                                                   
"God help me, I don't want him to become an orphan." 
 
Daehyun downcasted his eyes as he let out an inaudible sigh from behind his mask. He knew how painful it was to lose someone. Guilt tugged at his heart as he thought of all the people he had killed. How many families did he tear apart? How many women became widows because of him? How many children were orphaned by his hands? Without blinking even once, Daehyun refrained from killing the woman and retreated to Porles.
 
Upon his arrival to his and his mother’s home, Daehyun found a letter on the doormat. The paper was covered in spots of water—it was obvious that tears were shed as that letter was written.
 
Daehyun,
 
I came to Porles with you because I thought that with this new environment, I may become a better mother to my son. I agreed to come to Porles with you because I thought that finally, we could live in peace. Daehyun, I love you, but I can no longer bear this. I came to Porles to live with my son. But with what you have become, I feel as if I am living not with my son, but rather, a monster. All I wanted was a peaceful life for both of us. Was that too much to ask?
 
Please, Daehyun, don't forget about me but don’t try to find me either. Our memories are too precious; don't forget them. Hold them close to your heart. Remember that I will always be your mother. I will always love you. 
 
You are still a child—you have plenty of time ahead of you. You will find someone who will look past your flaws. You will find someone who will forgive you. I’m just sorry that I couldn’t be that someone. But when you do find them, Daehyun, never let them go. They are your angel.
 
And when you see an angel, you must protect it with all of your strength. Place this person above all else, including your own life.
 
Because whoever that angel is, they’ll do the same for you.
 
Goodbye, Daehyun.
 
-Jung Dina.
 

Devastation hit Daehyun as his own tears fell onto the page. It was then when he decided that he needed to be punished. For all the suffering he caused, he too needed to suffer.
 
That night, he set fire to their house, along with all of his belongings. For 10 years, he never again set foot in The House Of Cards. For 10 years, he survived only on food that he could find on the streets of Porles. He was alone. And just as death was about to claim him, he was saved by a miracle. 
 
An angel.