A row of twenty royal guards stand on the shoreline, watching, as the convoy from Seol sails away.  Their faces remain grim for they are not only loyal to the King and Queen of Nyo, but they love them as the Father and Mother of their homeland.  They understand that the request from Seol doesn't only represent an insult in the form of taking Minseok away.  They understand that this is, essentially, a threat to Nyo's well-being.  Their heavy-set expressions show that they will stand strong in the face of war and that they will not let their King and Queen down.

Back at the palace, there hangs a dark cloud over the royal palace.  The Queen weeps in frustration as the King has his brows furrowed in great anger.

"We will overcome this, my Queen" the King promises.  "Minseok-goon will not have to ever set foot in the Land of Seol."

"This... this is an outrage!" cries the Queen.  "To use the passing of King Taeyeol to such an extent!"

The King sighs, thoughts going out to his deceased childhood friend.  What the convoy had said had turned out to be true.  Messengers from the Land of Tae had come to relay the message and to seek refuge.  Counselor Sol, who had first sent word of the coup, had been tortured and subsequently, been put to death.  Before being tortured, he had managed to send word again.

'I go to my death, not in fear, but in deep sorrow for the late King who will always remain my one and only King' Counselor Sol had written.  'The only thing I beg of you, King of Nyo, is to look after the Prince, who was the only beam of light in King Taeyeol's life.'

Already, King Sejun had sent a letter to the Land of Tae in the hands of a messenger.  In the document, the King had carefully worded a request to house the young Prince Chanyeol during the transition.  Sejun hoped that the letter would not kindle Yeolgoon's anger.  And before that, Sejun hoped that Prince Chanyeol was remaining healthy and alive in the meantime.  Sejun could only imagine what it would be like for the young Prince... to have lost a father at the hands of his own uncle.  King Sejun shakes his head; this typhoon of blood and tears is not able to be described in easy words.  It is a time of great tragedy.

Still unroused from his deep sleep, Minseok lies terribly still in his sleeping chambers.  Next to him, ever vigilant, is the young Prince Sehun.  The young boy's cheeks are gaunt and his eyes bloodshot from crying and lack of sleep.  The courts-men that serve him are anxious with worry.  Eleven years is an important age for a young boy.  It is a time to grow, a time to thrive, but the young Prince isn't doing any of that in the presence of the Seer's son.

After Shuhwa's funeral rites are finished, the visiting shamans and fortune tellers had left to their own lands, one by one.  After all, most had come from lands afar to bid a proper farewell to the famed Kim Seer.  One old crone remains, head bent over a gnarled walking cane.  She sits just outside Minseok's sleeping chamber, silently chanting and praying.  

On the fifth day of Minseok's deep slumber, the day after Shuhwa is buried into the ground, a gust of spring wind fills the entire West Building.  The Seer's chambers rattle with the unexpectedly strong gale and the old crone's eyes fly open, astoundingly wide.

"It is finished!" the crone cries.

Getting up in haste, she nearly falls over twice, but makes it up to stand.  Rapping smartly on the inner chamber's door with her cane, she calls Prince Sehun.

"Young Prince!  The young Kim Seer will awake soon.  You must tell him that his mother is at peace now.  And his mother believes in the the fate of her son."

With a satisfied nod, the old crone leaves the West Building.  Startled, a couple of royal guards her all the way to the main gate.

"Will you leave the palace without greeting the King or Queen?" they ask, shocked, for it was against the proper etiquette.

But the old crone's bones ache from the exhaustion of sending Shuhwa's spirit off and she can feel her time in this world coming to a close.

"If the King or the Queen is angered by this old crone's insolence, I will be sure to return after I am dead."

The guards are too spooked to insist otherwise and the old crone makes it out of the palace and into the edge of the main city without any problems.  Once at the outskirts of the Land of Nyo, she looks back and sighs.  Though the wind was always thought of as weak and unreliable, it seemed that this generation's 'wind' was warm and loyal.  Flashes of the young Prince's future flood her vision before she turns back.  She knows she will not be alive to see the Three Kingdoms thrive once again, but she is satisfied knowing that it will happen in the near future.

Chanyeol shivers.  It's been exactly seven days since he's escaped from the palace walls.  Servants and guards still loyal to Taeyeol and his family had smuggled Chanyeol and the Queen out of the palace one night.  They were now on the edges of town, where barely anyone lived.  An old, dilapidated hut had been all that the servants could find.  It was not a place Chanyeol was used to and, at night, the cold wind seeped through the holes of the thatch and thin walls.

However, the poor living conditions was not why Chanyeol was shivering.  Just a week ago, he had buried his father.  And just yesterday, his mother had passed away.

Coughing up more blood than Chanyeol has ever seen before, the Queen had been delirious and feverish.  Grabbing hold of Chanyeol to her chest, the Queen had been inconsolable.

"I'm sorry, my son.  My precious son.  I'm so sorry" she had sobbed, hair astray and face pale.  "It's my fault.  This is all my fault.  My poor son.  Soon, you will be alone in this cruel, cold world."

Chanyeol had wanted to console her.  He really did.  But something about his mother's demeanor that night had scared him.  So frightened was Chanyeol, that he was not able to move nor return his mother's embrace.  His mother had then, removed Chanyeol from her bosom.  She had looked into Chanyeol's eyes with a feverish kind of intensity that he had never witnessed before.

"But my son, though you may be sad, you should never be worried or feel defeated.  For you are great and mighty.  You are of the Land of Tae.  You are of sacred bone.  No one shall stop you when you reach your full potential.  You shall burn bright and find your rightful place again.  It has been foretold and so it shall be."

At that, the Queen had shuddered deeply, her head thrown back.  Then, her eyes had slid shut with her hands still grasped at Chanyeol's arms.  And finally, as if running out of her feverish energy, the Queen had fainted, slumping to the floor to Chanyeol's alarm.  But no matter how precious the medicine, no matter how skillful the physician, the Queen had never woken up again.

+++

If you've reached this far... I just wanted to say, thank you for reading!
I am cross-posting to AFF&AO3 and I'm just so happy people are actually reading this little fantasy of mine ^^ I know it's not well written, but it's still exciting to see/meet other fans who are on this journey with me *^^*
Kudos/comments/subscriptions are very much appreciated (even if I may not respond quickly)!
I'm also on Twitter (@telefrosted)! Come say hi if you'd like ^^