Myungsoo's soul dove deep into a dark, flaming pit where he experienced a greater pain than death. He was altogether conscious, with all of his faculties intact and therefore capable of comprehending the deep pitch of pain which his body experienced. To say what he suffered was meager torture as man knows, with lashes, clouts if not branding, would be putting his punishment lightly. Yet to record, save this next brief report, all his trials would only serve to contaminate the heart of the pure and pollute the general mind of the populace...

His skin melted as tallow in the hearth. All his bones cried for the cool touch of water but was refused by those anomalies of the macabre, those monstrous figures that inspire wicked myths. These sentient shadows tore at his limbs and dug nails into flesh, continuing their grim parade by exposing marrow to the scorch of black flames. 
 
Then it stopped. In an instant everything was consumed by a blinding flash! No longer did his flesh blister or his tongue cleave to his mouth, but he felt a cool wind blowing against his face. All those lurid fiends fled as shadow before the light and he saw the flare of a small sun lead him away to an idyllic place, a safe haven.

... 

Dongwoo the gory spot where a crimson stream had once been loosed. The bandages had been torn, bare flesh had been exposed, yet there was no indication of a gory aperture. Myungsoo had been miraculously healed, and his prayer had been answered.

He gestured for Kei to take a look but she wouldn't comply, too afraid of seeing a pulsing mass of guts and blood. He insisted again, this time with a firm tug on her moist hand, a hand wet with tears and sweat. She shrinked back before exchanging a glance but the expression on his face was not one of gloom. His face could most aptly be described as baffled but with an undertone of happiness. He was eager to have her look at Myungsoo so he tugged at her hand a second time with a reassuring stare.

Half hesitant, she consented with a nod and expected to immediately turn back once her gleaming eyes fell upon a macabre sight, but she didn't. She gasped and traced over the indicated spot with an awe most clearly seen in her slacked jaw. All effort in discovering a bloody hole was fruitless because there existed none.

 "He is healed, and his heart!" She dipped her comely face and let her ear touch his that was glossy with a sheet of sweat. She listened intently and when she heard a beat, the slow hum of life, she pulled up her head and seized Dongwoo's hand in a fierce clutch. She spoke no word but her clasp was enough to speak for her. 

 Dongwoo silently nodded like a waving frond stirred by gentle breezes. He should have been shouting for joy, proffering loud bursts of adulation to his god but instead he was pinioned by the mystique behind that glow that shone through his hands and onto Myungsoo. What was it? 

Kei's firm grip on Dongwoo came undone as she covered . "How was he healed?"

 Dongwoo glimpsed at her. By inference he knew she had not seen that light in his hands. Unsure of whether she would believe he had healed him, he offered what he deemed the best answer, "Nesher answered my prayer."

 She jerked her head in surprise. This god was foreign to her although she once heard of it from an old vassal that died years ago. Her chest was constricting with excitement and wonder. All the deities her people adored were mere clay and wooden idols, some gold or iron, but none had ever directly answered the petitions of their worshipers. Maybe with this god it would be different. Maybe with this god, the whole world could be delivered from Oscuridaon...

Her eyes shifted to Dongwoo and it occurred to her that he had undergone a change of sorts. In her bosom, that maternal warmth that surged when taking a look at him vanished. Yes, he was now clearly in possession of his bearings but she was impressed with the idea that this change now manifest in him went beyond just that. It was as if in the passing of moments he went from helpless child to capable man; all transmitted by a simple glimpse at his brooding pose. 

He finally stood and bent to pick his friend off the floor, his veins bulging out as testament to the strain of muscles that had scarcely been used in days. He was aware of this inherent weakness, even of a burning hunger, but his chief duty was to set Myungsoo on a proper place. Once the limp body of his was on the bed, Dongwoo loomed over him, credulous of this mysterious power that had resuscitated him. A hand brushed away the sweat that trickled down his front like globules of melting wax, the other dropped on Myungsoo's shoulder.

 "Thank Nesher."

His body staggered with a brief convulsion of hunger and his knees buckled under an invisible weight. Kei snuck in underneath his arm and helped him maintain a secure stance. Close to him, she could feel the heat of his bare body tickle her own. His body, damp from sweat, made her skin crawl slightly, as if her flesh rubbed against that of an amphibian. She wanted to let go but she fought against this notion with her pride as queen. She did not want to fail him now; she wanted to help him as he had helped her and her kingdom by stopping Amahr and his Bugmen. 

That lean and toned arm of his felt surprisingly heavy over her shoulders. His heaving chest communicated the extent of his exhaustion. As opposed to the time he was disheveled and incapable of caring for himself, it wasn't meager pity she felt. Rather, it was a genuine concern for him that originated out of a place of gratitude and pride. Without suggestion or refusal on Dongwoo's part, she led him to the side of the bed and helped him sit. There he lounged with dazed eyes and waning energy.

 "Are you hungry?" She craned her head and assessed the table that had once been filled with food at the foot of the bed. There was only scraps of a once savory banquet, no real morsel. "I'll ask for some if you're hungry- you must be since you haven't eaten in days."

 "Yes, please." 

She smiled and exited the room with little noise, doing her best not to disturb him or Myungsoo. Outside she met Sujeong who was rushing to the room, a small contingent of shamans and herb users filing behind her- the best doctors in their nation.

 "No need," she told her.

Sujeong contorted her face in confusion and insisted to let the doctors check the status of the wounded warrior, but she swayed her head, fully convinced and privy to the still beating heart. 

 "It's fine, go ask the kitchen for more food while I get myself changed," she said, conscious of her unfit appearance, one tainted in stains of blood and perspiration with a lingering musk.

...

Dongwoo in a deep breath of air and faced the lazy sight of Myungsoo who was in deep sleep. His hand hovered over his nostrils to confirm again whether he was alive, and surely enough, he felt the tickling of hot breath on his palm. He grinned and whispered a thanks to his god. Eyes closed and body relaxed, he allowed his senses to become dull and oblivious to the world at large. Reflex immediately shook him and he found himself gazing at the door opened with a succession of curious women dressed in plain garb bringing food enough for a small feast into the room.

The banquet was set on the table Myungsoo ate on as the dishes he emptied were cleared and placed into buckets of tarnished silver. By now Dongwoo was fully awake and so caught one of those women by the fringe of her dress.

 "Where is the pretty girl with the long brown hair and dress?"

 The servant bent her back in a bow and answered with a somewhat stupefied tone, "Oh, savior- the queen, you mean? Our sovereign is arranging her marred beauty in new clothes. I suspect she will return shortly."

 Dongwoo looked on as the small host exited and closed shut the door. 

 "That was the queen?" he repeated in disbelief. A hazy memory zoomed in his mind and it paved the way for a more vivid vision, one as real as the present moment where he saw a girl floating inside a glass cylinder. "That was Kei," he averred.

...

When the potentate and her Sanritem friend returned they were met with the sight of a man who sheared through a dense loaf of raisin cake with his teeth like a wild dog. Keenly aware of Kei's identity, he sat down his food and wiped clean his stained mouth with a swipe of his forearm. He sat stiffly, palms on his knees, with his eyes unable to maintain a fixed gaze at the queen. With his heart a frantic rhythm, his head spinning with nervousness, he forgot to follow his mother's advice and bow before a monarch.

 Kei furled her lips slightly, the sharpness of female intuition telling her something was off. Before she left the room there existed a type of familiarity between the two, but now she recognized a broad distance that separated them. She could read the fine words invisibly written in the cold air; he now knew who she was, queen. It was in her interest to tell him herself when the proper chance would be given, but someone had beat her to it. Of course, he was bound to find out but that didn't change the fact that she wanted to personally do it, being a major reason why she fixed her attire.

From the small glances he stole, he perceived she was an entirely different being. She now was an alien beauty, the pinnacle of creation that existed in a plane remote from mundane and banal affairs. She stood as though from afar, dressed in fine garb with her face colored in attractive pigments of varying hues, all serving to elevate her otherworldly aesthetic. She felt detached and cold- unreachable.

 Sujeong flew to Myungsoo's side where she examined the spot where a hole had supposedly been mended, dubious of the miracle she had been told. 

 "He's been healed," Dongwoo said as he twisted his torso to look at the two.

 "I see," she said absently. She stood back up with a blank expression, uncertain of what to think. She clearly saw him dying yet here he was, alive and in even better condition than before.

 "Has he been sleeping?" Kei whispered to Dongwoo.

 He twitched at the low, crackly notes that entered his ear. With her eyes on him, he felt as though frisked by a soft plume. His body size was divided in two as he bowed his upper-half.

 "No need," she told him, "I should bow to you. You saved not only me but you saved the whole of Diciar, from the wealthy who dwell in spiral towers to those who humbly inhabit the hamlets further into the countryside." 

 Dongwoo gripped his thighs in anticipation of what she would say next. He had overcome the deterioration of his mind, but he hadn't overcome the guilt of having killed a man. In the brash happenings since he climbed up the gorge of hysteria, his mind was distracted from the feeling, but with his praise being sung, guilt floated to the top.

 Kei noticed his whitened knuckles and her keen wits worked through her fleecy fingers that landed on his bare shoulder. "The Bugmen were somehow connected to Amahr, and I'm sure that unless he died, the Bugmen would've continued wreaking havoc." 

 "It hurts."

 She knew the idea of killing a man was appalling and could genuinely sympathize with the swirl of emotions he was dealing with, but a hint of anger swelled in her chest. She had easily set aside this anger when he was broken down, but now she had no excuse to contain it. Gauging the severity of her grip as to not pierce his skin with her milky nails, she ejected her thoughts with a delicate tone, attempting to mask her irritation. 

"He was not an innocent man. He killed over 70,000 of our men with his subservient devils, leaving many widows and orphans in their demise. Your act means much more than murder, trust me. If you fixate on this guilt, you are spurning the value of the great salvation you claimed."

Dongwoo sighed as he coped with her words that lifted off some of the guilt burdening his shoulders. It was a start.

 Seeing a brighter look on his face, she smiled at him. Now her mind was itching with curiosity behind his etiquette. Sujeong had shared with her how he was raised in a jungle- Laroo- so, how then, did he know to bow to a ruler?

 When asked, Dongwoo succinctly replied, "My mother instructed me how to behave when in front of kings. My father had warned my mother that some kings lop off heads if they don't do so and my mother told me."
 
 "Your parents are escaped slaves?" she asked, already contemplating the idea of relocating his family to Diciar. After both he and Myungsoo were fully well, she assumed they might leave to Laroo, his home, but she wanted him back afterwards. Her own interests aside, it behooves a ruler to reward well-pleasing civilians.

 "Only my mother was an escaped slave. My father wasn't."
 
 Casually continuing the conversation, she asked with much curiosity, "Was? They are alive, right Dongwoo?"

 His hand busied itself by his other arm, soothing a phantom pain. At the query, surrounded by such a lavish place, in front of a well-dressed woman of dazzling eyes and lips, he felt out of place. He felt like a stranger, like a small child, and alone on an icy plain. When he was in the jungle the critters and innumerable bestial organisms distracted him from overly contemplating his melancholic life, but now there was no distraction.

 "They're dead," he told her.

Her lips sagged and her charming eyes were lit by a dim flame. "I'm sorry."

 "It's fine. I've gotten used to living by myself..."

There was a pause in their conversation wherein Dongwoo averted her dovish gaze and she, astute at reading faces, picked up on his discomfort. Had her words pried too much into deep scars, or did her lofty status propagate a sense of inferiority? Both? For now, she crossed her arms and waited for him to say something. On the other hand, he had no clue as to what to say and much preferred the idea of being alone.

Sujeong had been busy running through various ways in which Myungsoo could have been healed but they were all faulty and without reason. She had vaguely listened to their dialogue, heeding only bits and pieces, but her ears were keen enough to pick up the absence of the background chatter. At first she didn't mind the silence, in fact she might've preferred it, but the small glimpses she took of the two had begun to irritate her. They were simply taking up space in the room when they could've been attempting to figure out the mystery behind Myungsoo's healed wound.

She knew they weren't at all musing the particulars as to this weird miracle, but stayed quiet because of some reason or another. Perhaps one had crossed a boundary they shouldn't have; maybe Kei had been too familiar with Dongwoo or else, he was too familiar with her... 

It made her skin crawl with impatience to see them not even directly look at each other, only stealing glances like immature and timid children. By everything good! She was queen and she couldn't even speak to a plebeian? How had she been ruling for this long? Fed up, but not to the point of bursting out with imprecations, she resolved to end this dense silence by initiating a conversation herself, half-hearted it may be.

"Your dad was an Adamah or from which race?" Sujeong casually asked.

 He swayed his head and without prior thought, he spoke, "He was a Sanritem, my mother told me."

Absently nodding, Sujeong mentally persisted in her own search to discover the manner in which Myungsoo was saved. After Dongwoo's words reverberated in her head, it all clicked. He had healed him.

Kei was left stunned by the sudden revelation, but it was Sujeong that seemed to overreact as she clasped both of his hands with an iron vice.

 "You didn't tell me this before. You're the one who healed him, right?" She gesticulated her small arms and pleaded him to answer but he was too taken aback by her sudden words. "It was a ball of light? One that came from your hands?"

 He nodded, unsure of the significance behind her questions and too baffled by her enthusiasm.

Kei mouthed a couple of words, aware of how taboo it was for a Sanritem to mingle with an inhabitant of this world. Questions, a whole litany of them as regarding the circumstances of this strange union welled up in her dainty head, but she failed to ask any. All those questions were whisked away like vanishing smoke once she raised her eyes to steal a look at the interaction her friend was having with the source of her intrigue. She was left with a lingering sense of consternation when she couldn't discover the reason why Sujeong was grasping Dongwoo's hands so fiercely. 
 
His hands held fast by her own supple hands, she raised them up above her tiny frame as though she was bearing gold in her palms. "Dongwoo, you have a great power, one seldom seen even in the most talented of Sanritem magic users. I am sure that not even Oscuridaon has the ability to heal!"

 With a sudden jerk, he pulled his hands away from her and futilely hid them behind his back. 

 "Don't be afraid," she told him, "even if I compared you to him- you are in no way like him." 

The queen, her eyes observing the unfolding of a peculiar scene, stood like a figure carved out of alabaster. Her stare followed Sujeong's hands that procured the touch of Dongwoo's palms. His hands were limp and moist from sweat. All the attention he had been given made him feel uneasy. As Sujeong casted her vision at his palms held in her clutch, Kei felt a sudden urge to sever the grasp. 

 "What does this mean," she quickly asked her, her fingers lacing around the supple tan wrist.

 Sujeong looked back and let down his hands. She had briefly forgotten she was there. "It means he might hold a power greater than most, maybe to the point of rivaling Oscuridaon. Those who possess the ability of healing come only once in a dozen millennia, the last one went down in Sanritem history as a mighty king who saved the people from an invading cosmic host."

 Kei took a step between her and Dongwoo, following the instruction of a jabbing impulse. Next she eyed Dongwoo from head to toe. "He has no long ears- and he," she quipped with a doubtful voice, "he said he's only half-Sanritem."

 "I heard, but it doesn't change the fact that he bears great potential." Directing her attention to him, she resumed, "He's the only one of his kind. I heard rumors of a mingling between Sanritem and Adamah blood, but I presumed it was nonsense. Details of whatever happened to that union became vague and lost to time. I thought that family died because of Oscuridaon's disdain for 'unholy ' unions, but it seems that wasn't the case."

 "He ordered the death of my parents and I?" Dongwoo asked, suddenly aiming a glare at her. New revelations were being disclosed and until she mentioned Oscuridaon's hatred for hybrids, he had nothing to hold on to, everything feeling as though it were meager speculation and hypotheticals. "He killed my father?"

 "No," she said, "He most likely decreed the small massacre, but he would never have done it himself. I think he would have sent an envoy."

 "Like a demon? With a skull head and a giant wolf to ride upon?"

 Wrinkles formed on her front as she attempted to make sense out of his sudden description. The way his muscles tensed made her realize how much of a sensitive subject this was for him. Of course it was, but her grasp on the situation was diluted by an excitement that came with the discovery of fantastic power possibly lurking in him.

 "Maybe," she replied without much of a thought. She assessed again his description until a spark of electricity shocked her.

He was describing Myungsoo.

Now conscious of this prospect, she asked, "Who told you how he- this demon looked like? You saw him yourself?"

 "No," he answered solemnly, "My mother recounted the story of my father's slayer several times before she died and it became engraved in my head. She told me he bore a golden sword, like Myungsoo's."

 Her eyes shot to the sight of the sleeper.

 "It can't be him though, he has no wolf or skeletal head," he listlessly remarked, as if reading her mind.

 "Does he know you are a half-blood?" Kei asked.

He swayed his head in answer, not so secretly engaged in thought, contemplating the memories of his mother. 

 "I don't think you should tell him," Sujeong chimed in. With a more serious tone, she proffered her own ideas, "I also don't think you should tell him it was you that healed him. Make something up- say you used one of the magical artifacts in our store."

 "What?" he repudiated with disgust, "I can't lie. Nesher hates the deceptive tongue."

 Sujeong sighed, disappointed by the blaze of determination in his eyes. "I'll do it, then. If he asks you, all you have to do is say Sujeong wouldn't lie."

 Kei voiced her opinion with a dismissive wave of her finger, "He won't believe you when you already abducted Dongwoo. I'll tell him I did it and all he has to do is say Kei wouldn't lie."

 "Why can't I tell him?"

 "Just trust me, it's for your own good. I'm sure you already know how badly he hates the Sanritem. What if he considers to harm you?"

 Dongwoo glared at her again. Arms folded over each other, he engaged in serious meditation, asking himself whether Myungsoo would ever harm him. It was then that he finally awoke with a yawn and sprawling of his limbs. Everyone looked at him as though he were a phantom, a ghastly phenomena beyond the dark imaginations of men. They knew he was alive but seeing him bat his eyes and stretch s was like having their face dunk in cold water. A renewed vigor gleamed in his narrowed stare. 

 "I am alive," he said, patting his once gaping side. Sitting up with his head lowered, a smoldering look blazing in his eyes, he pressed his fingers deep into his torso and presumed they would enter a gushy, warm cavity, but they didn't. "How am I alive?" His head shot up and a cynical expression as though suspicious of this lurid reality marked his visage. One by one, he roved the three standing just in front of the bed. 

 Kei stepped forward and apologized. "Forgive our less than welcoming presence. When the magical contraption-"

 "Magical contraption?" he interrupted, dubious of his own hearing.

Her lips pursed, as though with hesitation, but she continued, "Yes the one we placed on your side that healed you. We weren't sure of its use; it was a miraculous coincidence I carried it around. Fate worked when it was placed on you, rescuing you from death."

 "Where is it?" he said with a leer.

 "It disappeared," Sujeong added, her tone b with assurance, "It vanished when the hole in your body closed up."
 
 "I'm not sure what to believe except that I am alive and feel better."

 Myungsoo motioned for the idle lot to move aside. He braced himself and dropped a single foot to the floor first, the cold tiles made it recoil up but he pressed on and then dropped the other foot down. In an instant, his entire body stood firmly on the glossy floor. There was no ague, no dizziness or soreness at all. He was fully recuperated. 

When he chanced to look at Dongwoo, he stifled a grin. He seemed well, too, with a brain fully intact. His hand fell upon his bronze shoulder and he tensed his grip purposefully, silently telling him to be strong.

 "I'm happy you're alive, friend."

 A scoff fleeing from his mouth, Myungsoo remarked, "I lived through a violent hell on this world and on the one that follows death. I was dead, I'm certain, but a strange light pulled me out from the abysmal pit."

 "It was Nesher."

 His smoldering brown eyes lingered on Dongwoo, savoring the idea of god while finding room to voice a litany of complaints against this notion. At any rate, he shoved this internal theological debate aside and redirected his gaze at Kei.

 "There remains a matter to be resolved," he told her with an arrogant disposition. "This Sanritem woman promised me a great loot of magical items, the ones your people were excavating."