o50

Eleven Thousand

Jinqiong didn’t know what to expect of Taeyong, but when they spotted Hei, Baekhyun, Luhan and Taeyong a couple of hours later, it definitely wasn’t what she had pictured.

For one, he looked a lot more… frail than she expected. Luhan was supporting him, with one arm under his as if to keep him steady, and he limped forward at a slow pace. Hei and Baekhyun were in step with them, and from where Jinqiong was standing on the deck, she couldn’t tell if they were speaking to each other or not. Slowly, they neared the ship, crossing the stretch of sand between them and Jinqiong tried to get a better look at Taeyong.

He wasn’t very tall—perhaps around Baekhyun’s height, but just like everything else about him, it was hard to tell when he was practically slouching as far as his body would allow him to. The group made their way across the sand, painstakingly slow, before filing into the small ship that would take them back to the boat.

By then, much more of the crew had gathered around, undoubtedly curious. Jinqiong was pretty sure Jongdae still wasn’t well enough to make his way up the stairs (really, she wasn’t either—at least, she wasn’t supposed to be exerting herself so much) but she didn’t mind the moving around. Being cramped up in her room, below deck with no fresh air and windows and sometimes no light, was awfully suffocating. Besides, it gave her the same tinge of satisfaction thinking that she could do something Jongdae couldn’t.

It wasn’t long before the boat approached the ship. Jinqiong watched as Baekhyun secured it with a rope, then offered a hand to Hei. She began climbing, with Chanyeol and Kyungsoo ready to pull her onto the deck.

Luhan was next. He cast a glance back at Taeyong, who was sitting very silently on one of the seats of the boat, before following Hei’s lead.

Taeyong began to move. Jinqiong caught a better look at his face—he had rather sharp features, even more so than Jongdae, slightly wide-set eyes and lips that were pressed together in either what was a permanent scowl or an attempt not to cry. She couldn’t be certain which one it was. His movements weren’t as strained as she supposed they would be, but he moved like he were in a trance, each step with the same precision as the last one.

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo helped him onto the deck silently.

Not long following him, Baekhyun, this time without anyone’s help, pulled himself on too. Taeyong had moved a little ways from the group and was holding onto the railing, looking out. Jinqiong followed his gaze to the island, the lush, thick green. His gaze was fixated.

Baekhyun slipped an arm around Hei’s waist. “Taeyong,” he called.

The man didn’t turn from the railing.

“Taeyong,” Baekhyun repeated.

It took a couple of tries before he finally seemed to remember his own name. He turned around, albeit a bit hesitant, to look at the captain. “Yes?” he replied.

His voice was quiet, Jinqiong thought. Almost carefully so. Very much controlled—which was impressive, she supposed, given what had been done to him—he followed after them silently towards the direction of the cabin.

“Luhan,” Baekhyun called. “Figure out shifts. Then the sectors. We should set sail soon. We’re going to run short on supplies if we keep on going at this rate. I want us to keep to the fourth and sixth sector—most preferably the fourth—and then the fifth sector, if really necessary. But steer clear of everything else—the second in particular—and…” He frowned. “That’s it. Taeyong, I want to figure out a couple of things with you later. But right now, we’re…”

His voice trailed off as they rounded the corner, leaving Jinqiong with the rest of the crew as well. It was Jungwoo who broke the silence.

“So that’s Lee Taeyong,” he said.

“I was expecting someone older,” Chanyeol admitted.

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “He’s old,” he replied. “A couple thousand years old. But he just doesn’t look like it.”

“He looks like a kid,” Chanyeol shot back. “I don’t know about you, but it kind of freaks me out. Think about how long he’s been alive. Doesn’t that seem weird to you?”

Jinqiong was inclined to agree with Chanyeol. Taeyong made her feel nervous—perhaps it was the way he looked at them, like he was taking them in and apart piece by piece, but at the same time, not truly seeing them at all. He didn’t looked malnourished or tired; not physically, at least. But whatever psychological torture he had been subject for seemed to have accumulated in his eyes, and just one look at the way he carried himself and the way he looked at them gave it all away.

“Well,” Jongin put in mildly. “I, for one, am very happy we have him now. We can go home. And with his power, it’ll probably be much easier to go through the sectors, right?”

Jinqiong didn’t say how she was pretty sure Taeyong wasn’t in the state to use his power much—at least, not to a point where they were to rely on him. Maybe he wasn’t hurt anywhere physically, but mentally… she couldn’t imagine what kind of carnage he would release if he used his power without proper control. And she doubted that he would be able to control himself well, no matter how much practice he had.

It was after a little while that Luhan finally spoke up. “Let’s discuss this in the mess hall,” he called. “We’ll figure out shifts. Then,” he turned to Jongin purposefully, “we can decide what Lee Taeyong does and what he doesn’t do.” 

***

Taeyong was given an empty cabin. Hei couldn’t quite remember who it belonged to—most likely Minseok, who had been vacated to temporarily share a room with someone else (he couldn’t have been very happy about that, Hei thought, given that Baekhyun had once moved her out of a room just so Minseok could have his own. Then, thinking back, she wasn’t sure if that had been done because he knew how much Minseok disliked sharing a cabin, or if he was just trying to make sure she’d stay in his).

He was extremely quiet when they lead him below deck to show him the room, and Hei couldn’t begin to place a finger on just what he wanted. Perhaps more sunlight, given that he hadn’t been able to go outside for so long? But it was still Hell’s Gate—everything was still artificial, not quite right, so she didn’t know. Perhaps he wanted time alone. Or maybe he didn’t; after all, he had spent the last eleven hundred years alone.

Someone had cleared out the cabin. There was nothing left but a bed, a desk, which contained a couple pieces of paper, a pen and a well of ink, and then a two layer shelf where it seemed Minseok had most likely kept his clothing. A lantern sat on the floor, but it hadn’t been lit—the only source of light came from the torch Baekhyun was currently holding.

“Here’s your new room,” Baekhyun announced as they stepped inside. “I know it’s not the best, but you’ll probably get something better once we’re out of here.”

Taeyong nodded slowly. If anything, Hei thought that he looked as if he were still in shock—over what had happened—or, more precisely, what had changed and what wasn’t there anymore. For the last eleven hundred years all he had known was the house the family leaders had imprisoned him in. Now, this—much smaller, yet at the same time, more free—Hei wasn’t too sure how she would take it either.

“Do you need anything?” she butted in gently, when he had stared a little too long at the surroundings without moving. “Water? Food?”

Taeyong shook his head. “Thank you,” he said slowly. “But I’m not very hungry as of now. Maybe later.”

Hei exchanged a look with Baekhyun, who looked just as lost as she was. The question, unspoken, was still obvious between the two of them: were they supposed to leave him alone for a while, or, after those eleven hundred years, did he not want to be by himself? On one hand, it was overwhelming to see so many people, but on the other hand… wasn’t it overwhelming to be alone as well?

“Just let us know if you need something,” Hei told Taeyong. He was looking at his cabin now like he hadn’t ever seen something like it, and she supposed it wasn’t too far from the truth. He had been in the same place for over a millennium. Something—anything new was going to be most likely strange for him. “We’ll probably have dinner in an hour and a half. Would you like to join?”

Taeyong nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said, then corrected, “maybe. Maybe I—” He looked up this time, finally meeting her eyes. “It’s just all overwhelming,” he murmured. “But yes. I would like to.”

Hei nodded. “I’ll come get you.”

Baekhyun squeezed her hand, then dipped his head at Taeyong, setting the lantern down for him. Hei gave him one last glance before following Baekhyun’s already retreating figure.

She had gotten two steps when, behind her, Taeyong spoke up again. “Song Hei.”

She stopped and turned around. In the corner of her vision, Hei saw that Baekhyun had also stopped, listening. “Yeah?”

His eyes were unreadable when he looked at her. He hadn’t moved from where he was sitting. “Can I talk to you?”

Hei’s first impulse was to look back at Baekhyun. His eyes met hers—slightly wary, eyebrows beginning to draw together—before she nodded at Taeyong. “That’s fine,” she said.

Part of her expected Baekhyun to offer to stay as well, but instead, he gave her a small nod. “I’ll be on the deck if you need anything,” was all he said. It was a reassurance, or maybe a little warning to Taeyong, but she smiled at him anyway. His footsteps faded away, and Hei didn’t move until the faint clicking of his boots became inaudible. She headed back to Taeyong’s room.

There was only one chair, so Hei sat on it and he on the edge of the bed. Taeyong left the cabin door wide open, sitting directly across it, and Hei had a feeling that it wasn’t a habit he would be breaking any time soon.

He remained silent for a little while, and she struggled to think of something to fill the silence with. How are you doing? Great, thanks, just got out of my eleven thousand year punishment. Isn’t the fresh air great? Yeah, haven’t breathed it in some time. Then there were less casual topics—tell me about how your entire city got massacred and my husband’s father banished you to this place—that seemed even worse.

Taeyong spoke up first. “Thank you,” he said. His voice was very quiet, but his tone was surprisingly steady. “You don’t know how much I mean that.”

“You don’t—” She stumbled over the words a bit. “You don’t have to thank us. I couldn’t think of just… leaving you here when we could do something, you know.”

He raised his eyes. “You came here through Hell’s Gate. I thought I would be fine with never leaving this place—it’s been so long, anyway—but I was never fine with it, just that there was nothing else to do.”

“I’m sorry,” Hei said, and she meant it. “I can’t imagine what it’s like. It’s so cruel, what they did.”

Taeyong gave a little laugh, the first she heard, but it was mirthless and dry and empty and it seemed to hurt him more than anything. “It could’ve been worse,” he muttered. “I could’ve been tortured. I could’ve been hurt. But I suppose eternal life and being forgotten isn’t the worse punishment.”

“You don’t need to lessen what happened,” she replied. “Just because you weren’t physically hurt doesn’t mean they didn’t…” The words evaded her, and Hei shook her head. She wasn’t too sure what to say–or, more precisely, what was fine to say and what wasn’t—but her head was whirring to think of something. Finally, she managed, “What do you want to do the most when we get out of here?”

To her relief, it didn’t seem to trigger any sort of reaction in Taeyong but a smile—this one more genuine, albeit rather wistful. “I want to see the sun,” he admitted. “Not this sun. I could see outside my window, and Hell’s Gate’s sun was never quite… real. But I want to see it outside, and feel the breeze, and the grass and just… everything.” He looked at her sheepishly. “I also wanted to travel. Look around. See what’s changed. It’s been eleven hundred years, and I can’t even imagine what’s different.”

Hei remembered the destruction of Fortuna; there was barely anything left there. Taeyong probably didn’t want to see that. She wasn’t sure if it should be brought up (mostly like it shouldn’t, but she was also curious what he had to say about the city, having known it before the family leaders had obliterated it), so instead, Hei asked, “Have you ever been to the other cities?”

Taeyong gave her a look. “The other cities?” he asked. “The ones that the other family leaders ruled?”

Hei blinked at him. “Yeah?”

He looked confused for a couple more moments before realization dawned on his face. “You can visit them now,” he said, more to himself, before explaining, “We never travelled to other places. It was too dangerous by sea. Only the family leaders seemed to meet up with one another—I think—but even that…” He shook his head. “I’ve never really left Fortuna. It’s strange to think that you can see the other ones.”

Having found a common point of interest, Hei smiled at him. “You’ll be able to see all of them,” she said. You know all the cities, right?”

“Hua,