Paradox in the flesh! An hour earlier, Myungsoo was counted as dead; after a miracle, he was like a man in stasis, but now...

He is a titan! Founded upon legs of strong copper, he is a man among men whose slender form is betrayed by a flowing strength that rivals the berserkers of mythology, a being whose handsome face has witnessed macabre atrocity and blissful paradise. His eyes were gleaming gems as they scrutinized the woman before him, awaiting her answer. 

 "That's true. She told me about her promise just after you and Dongwoo were both treated by the healers." Kei answered with a rather forced smile following a brief pause. 

Their first real interaction after he awoke proved to be distasteful to her. Even if he had helped save her and her kingdom, it didn't make void the fact that it was an outrage for her not to discuss the idea of reward on her own terms. It warranted her as queen to always be the one in charge of any given situation and anything else which disrupted her flow of control upset her. Maybe that was his intention, as his impertinence seemed to mock her to the point that apprehension towards him was the natural consequence. 

That steadfast shine in his eyes was a thing of wonder, clearly gallant but simultaneously working to disclose all the ugliness of swamp creatures swimming in them. It wasn't only his eyes that determined what sort of foul creature he was. His carriage, that haughty posture of his, with arms tightly folded over each other and with his chin tilted up, averred the notion that he was looking down on her in more than just the actual sense but the figurative sense, too.

It was as if he was contesting for the crown, as if deeming her unworthy of bearing the scepter, so, with all the pride that comes from being queen, she lifted her nose at him and continued, "While I didn't approve of it, I will not fall through."

 "Good," he said with a sneer. "It's the least I deserve but I'm glad you're not a liar."

 During this exchange Dongwoo remained silent like a tomb, too taken aback by Myungsoo's sudden claim. While he did glance at him, his eyes were lingering on Kei, observing the minute changes in her disposition as she went from perfectly composed to- whether angry or nervous, he couldn't tell but he knew she was on a trigger even if by the expressive twitching of her eyes.

Expertly trained to discern even the most subtle of mood swings in women after learning at the feet of Myungeun, Myungsoo also became aware of the fact that he had perhaps vexed Kei in some way. It wasn't only his quick demand of payment, he assumed, but something more.

Kei had from a very early age assumed the office of sovereign left vacant by her father. She had learned many things, more than any contemporary could have guessed. The ability to maintain fair order over impulsive behavior was one of those things she had picked up on earlier in her tenure. Unfortunately for her, temptation was quickly overwhelming any sense of self-control. 

Her firm grasp on mental discipline was being compromised by a thought that buzzed in her head like a gnat. Her tolerance and patience for this nagging remark was quickly wearing down. How did it pass Myungsoo's mind that the relics he was now demanding came from excavating? An image floated by, the look of confidence he had on his face as he suggested the notion. What proof did he have that prompted such certitude? 

To ask for evidence transformed into an urge so likely to happen that she could no longer avoid the desire with utmost control. Eventually, as she caught the sight of a subtle sneer on his face, her little bubble of restraint broke.

"How did you know about the digging?" she quickly asked.

Myungsoo smirked. "Although that warren was dark with scant lighting from the scarlet luminaries that ran on the sides of the cavernous corridors, I wasn't blind enough to miss the traces of mining that had been done there. We," he said, cocking his head at Dongwoo, "found pickaxes, shovels, and even a container full of nectar that comes from a fruit native to Diciar, the exotic Ohrez."

He eyed the queen, waiting patiently for a response but it seemed like she preferred to remain quiet. Dongwoo, he noted, was baffled by this recent news. It was obvious to him that the poor boy had no idea of the significance behind the digging. He was too naive to assemble any theory by himself. Then something more was made apparent to Myungsoo.

Whether a fleeting attraction or full blown romantic intrigue, he didn't know, much less care. What he did know was that there existed at least a base attraction between the boy and the queen, most aptly seen in the small glimpses he took at her. 

It had no bearing on him whether they were interested in each other, though ludicrous it may sound, but the thought of Dongwoo being duped by the superficial appeal of the queen bugged him. There was more to her than simple feminine charm, he reasoned, as statecraft usually demands the need for cynical minds like his. What plans she may have had for the  "magical" relics that were found he didn't know, but could assume she had her own designs in mind.

Before the following is stated, it must be emphasized that Myungsoo wasn't one to meddle in the affairs of others. What led him to next speak came out of a spontaneous urge that was rooted in his inner man- the habitat of secrets, the place of delusions, desire, ambiguity and certainty, deception and honesty, love and hate; the home of mystery not even understood by those enlightened.

 The rudiments of this root was at first felt by him ever since they met, though it was of course neglected. When he was resuscitated and awoke, the strength of this peculiar connection grew. With this odd sense of rapport lodging somewhere in his innermost self, he deemed it only fair for him to know what kind of woman she was.

 "Woman, as you may or may not know, Amahr was in control of the Bugmen and his obsession over you is what led to much bloodshed. I had cogitated on this while I ate, but I'm sure Amahr would have never awoken unless his resting place was disturbed. That said, I could clearly surmise that all this mess could've been avoided had your people not molested that fortress of his in search of treasure- treasure I am owed that is currently in your possession."

Her ivory limbs spasmed slightly. The room was completely enclosed, without windows or breach in the walls, yet she could've sworn with confidence that a cold wind blew over her, bristling the tiny hairs on her nape. The more she thought about it, the more he was right. She couldn't deny the truth behind his words, a truth she was struggling to come to terms with. A small jolt of electricity in her brain spurred her to glimpse at Dongwoo. He stared on with a vacant look and his lips were parted to suggest a small shock.

 "What's done is done. All that blood is in your hands, queen. As for me, I require my reward. I have no need of the scraps that remain of your army. Just the loot."

 "I'm sorry," Kei said under her breath, fighting back tears. "You're right, I had the chance to stop the miners but the idea of those relics holding power prompted me to horde them."

 Sujeong, concerned for the queen, put her arm around her shoulder and whispered a voice of consolation.

 "We didn't know it would cause so much damage," she told Myungsoo.

 "Well, if a person would be able to see the future, they'd act more wisely, no? I'll be waiting in the room I was provided with." Turning to meet Dongwoo, he patted his back and told him to accompany him.

 "I'll stay here," he stammered.

 "So be it, I'll wait for you there."

Once Myungsoo left the room, Dongwoo mildly expected Kei to uncontrollably weep. She didn't. She couldn't openly sob with him there. Her eyes were bloodshot, a deep crimson that flashed forth regret and remorse. Her nails, like pearl talons pierced her palms in anger, and before they could stab further in to loosen a more steady stream of blood, she opened her palms and wiped them on her sides. It behooved her to not lose her sense of dignity and composure.

The youth was quiet in front of her, not taunting or chiding her, but simply standing there like some observer not of a play but of one he was concerned with. If she had been reared correctly by her father, and indeed she was, then she would possess a quality that cannot be missed in noble rulers- the virtue of taking responsibility for their actions. It was this moral obligation so deeply entrenched in her soul that prompted her to disclose the whole truth to the observer.

 "He's not lying, Dongwoo. You see now, if you are guilty of killing a single man, I am much more responsible for letting thousands march towards their death."

 "Why did you do it?" he asked, eager to settle the complex mix of emotions swirling in him.

The cold felt only by her persisted like a frigid winter wind gnawing on her supple flesh. Her body worked on instinct to provide warmth by forcing her to fold her arms and squeeze her sides.

 She vented a breath that could be likened to the suspiration of bereft mothers, "I was foolish. I thought that maybe somewhere deep in the ground lurked a hidden power, a way of freeing all those oppressed by Oscuridaon's rule."

 Noticing a subtle strain in her voice, Sujeong interceded, "Whenever a slave escapes a city, they usually flee here because Diciar is a safe haven for all. There still exists slaves here, yes, but only in word because Oscuridaon decreed all Adamah live in perpetual servitude. We would have completely abolished it but we have to maintain superficial obedience else he enlist other Sanritem ambassadors whose ideals are not like ours. They would report us to the tyrant in a heartbeat and everyone would be slaughtered."

 Kei again stepped forward after determining that her silence was the equivalent of cowardice. A queen must not be a coward, not even when her audience is a single person.

"Even then, Dongwoo, I can guarantee you that I've put my life on the line to guarantee no slave is mistreated. I already have broken Oscuridaon's edicts, and with pride. I made sure to impose upon pain of death that no slave owner lose sight of their humanity by stripping their slaves of dignity and respect. This way, if a Sanritem chances upon our unorthodox treatment of slaves, I would be the one to suffer, not them. But I do so not to gain everyone's approval but because I've been exposed to the harrowing tales of unforgiving violence the slaves are dealt with elsewhere."

Dongwoo was quiet, busy processing everything being told him. Apparently, it wasn't for greed that she searched Amahr's ruins for, but for the prospect of a better life for all. Those tears that trickled down her soft cheeks could never lie. In his mind, a vague recollection of his head being embraced in a bosom of milky hue caused him to further affirm his lofty preconceptions of Kei. He had no words to give, although he wanted to assure her it would be fine. 

 His face was a murky expression while weighing the number of people dead. They were all loved by someone and left many behind to mourn for them. To assuage her sorrow with a meager comment would be doing them wrong. At the same time, he considered that if she mourned excessively then it would be tantamount to trampling over their blood. There wasn't much he could offer her in terms of moral platitudes, there wasn't much he could offer at all. 

He determined the best way to communicate his feelings would be with a firm grasp on her rounded shoulders. As he did so, her winsome face met his and with a clear voice he told her, "Nesher will save us. He is the true god and he will stop Oscuridaon."

 She smiled subtly as he walked past her and out the door, a dazzling shimmer of hope in her eyes.

...

 "Do you still find her beautiful?" Myungsoo whimsically asked upon Dongwoo stepping inside his chamber.

 "I do."  

He swayed his head in disbelief. "The heart is a deceitful thing," he remarked. 

Dongwoo sat on the floor to his side, while he wagged his foot atop the bed, engrossed in thought. His arms behind his head, he breathed in a deep breath of air, musing how Dongwoo would react if he were to share with him the list of his crimes. The hell he lived through in a dream that was like no dream but a palpable vision, the racking experience of an infernal reality, made him reconsider his former mindset of indifference towards those he killed. He was now struggling when before there was no struggle. 

It was a tangible hallucination of sorts that gripped his core while in slumber. He experienced a thousand, thousand deaths where each slaying became more and more morbid and gory than the last, lending the notion that the former deaths were dull and tame experiences. Not only did his skin melt like oozing wax, but it was afflicted with boils and ugly deformations. The rotting stink of decaying bodies filled the gloomy air in the grim realm to which he traveled. His mind was a slush substance until a desperate plea was answered and a small sun illuminated his darkness.

 "Myungsoo?"

 With a fierce shake of his head, he peered down to his side and noticed Dongwoo mouth something. He was too distracted in thought. "What is it?"

 "Thank you," he told Myungsoo.

 "For what?"

 "For saving me. It was you that delivered me from that insane panic that overtook me for several days."

 Myungsoo rubbed his moist chin and then swayed his head. He felt guilt lash at his heart. After all, he did think of killing him before he confused him with Myungeun. "Thank your god," he said almost as a hush, "Not me..."

Observing his fidgety actions, Dongwoo wondered if he was doubting the lie Kei told him, that it was not in fact a magical contraption that had sealed up the wound on his ribs but a latent power in his hands. Now he became a fidgeting mess, cracking his nuckles and rubbing his knees. He knew the truth would soon make itself known, but he questioned how soon. Going over Sujeong's advice, he mused the idea of actually going against it, but decided not to when considering the verbal animosity he had already displayed toward the Sanritem. It was an irritating debacle for him, to decide whether he should reveal his identity as a half-faerie.

Wanting to break from the cycling memories of his visitation to hell, Myungsoo clapped his hands. It was a menial attempt at clearing away the misty haze that issued from the echoes of his nightmare, but it worked. Both he and Dongwoo gasped when the lights became dim. By accident, he had discovered how that weird lighting system of his room worked. 

 "Is it magic?" 

 "I don't think so." Myungsoo worked his mental muscles to capture hazy and vague memories of his past. "I think it's science from the epoch that came before, from my era," he said with each word lengthening in its utterance. Melancholy replaced the ill horror he had been suffering.

Entranced by the idea of capturing magic in his eyes, Dongwoo clapped his hands multiple times, the lights adjusting with each clap. It was a mundane play of lights and shadows, the striking of palms serving as musical accompaniment. Their eyes were immersed in such nonsensical theatre and slowly unaware, Myungsoo felt the corners of his mouth curve upwards. Before it reached the apex of a smile, he checked himself and threw his hand on the bed. The momentary bubble of happiness had burst.

 "Stop it already. It's annoying me."

A knock sounded on the door and the room occupied by a single duo became filled by the queen, Sujeong, and a small throng of subjects laden with familiar objects in their arms. Each of these servants laid their object on the floor, allowing the two spectators to acknowledge their presence.

 "You brought our belongings, but where are the magic relics?" Myungsoo nonchalantly demanded while he secured the golden bracer on his forearm and kicked near his harness to himself.

 "We have a small petition first," Kei said while gesturing her servants to leave.

...

It was now early dawn when the expanse above was still a dark shade of cerulean and a thick fog lined the paved streets of Diciar. Behind Myungsoo and Dongwoo stood a great edifice, etched between the area where the sky meets the ground. This keep was a sandy color that poked its peak above the curtain walls that guarded it. The pair walked like phantoms in the night, having left the castle with the stealthy patter of jungle cats through a window minutes before. Their hasty steps were aimed to the exit of this great kingdom. 

 There was no shout of exultation, no cry of jubilee, nor a parade to mark their march out the nation. They were leaving in the early morning when the shuffle of feet was nonexistent except for theirs. Any sort of gay procession proclaiming the praise of the two heroes would have to had been carried out in secret at any rate. Myungsoo had openly rejected the idea of the populace celebrating their meritorious efforts. He wanted to leave in secret with Dongwoo to Laroo.

His fingers hitched on the cloak he had been gifted as he peered to his side and observed Dongwoo. He appeared pensive too, his face appearing more worn down as if to demarcate the passing of years. He wasn't too surprised by this, having gone through so much in the span of mere days. A naive jungle boy had witnessed a monster in the forest, had been deceived, had been abducted, but more significantly- he witnessed the gory end of men in war against devils, and had killed for the first time. It was that act of murder that sent off his soul into a voyage of insanity, the end of which he narrowly escaped.
 
He now seemed more like a man, and even resembled his own face somewhat. Eyes, redirected to the road ahead, he sped up his pace and Dongwoo followed without so much as a word. Their feet shifted sharply into a darkened alley where lay empty wooden crates and scattered the grey blurs of hungry mice. This narrow passage was cut off by the sheer height of the rampart that ran along the border of Diciar.

Even the basest of men could muster the idea of stacking the crates atop another to form a makeshift flight of stairs, so neither Myungsoo nor Dongwoo deliberated their task. Mounting these wooden steps caused them to shake but it wasn't enough to startle Myungsoo, confident of his footing. Mere moments passed and after a big enough jump, he was hanging on the thickness of the rampart. He quickly lifted his leg over the barrier and then gestured for Dongwoo to jump. His body was flat on the wall, an arm extended outward to catch Dongwoo. He didn't think he could make the jump alone.
 
Dongwoo swayed his head, "I can do it alone."

 "Whatever suits you then," Myungsoo replied, not at all nonplussed by his rejection. He dropped down the lofty barrier and evaded the impact that would shatter bones by rolling onto the sward in the same motion as his descent. 

After climbing up, Dongwoo remained seated on the thickness of the sandy wall, eyes busy with the study of a tree some feet away from him. Without a shred of fear, he propped himself up on the wall and leapt in the direction of that very tree. His arms caught a thick branch and he quickly slid down the tree as though he were a member of those apes that inhabit dense green playgrounds.

 Myungsoo scoffed at the act, unimpressed by his finesse. His thoughts were allocated to the reprisal of his prized possession that endured the span of a week away from him. All of his belongings had been reclaimed except for this one, his golden sword that was stabbed somewhere along this southern side of the rampart. A brief inspection of the wall and the blade was laid bare to the eye.

There it was, transfixed like a wedge of solid sunlight into the sandy wall. It glistened, beads of dew covered the edge and graven pommel. There was a trace amount of dust and small shards of the barrier on the sward as if to indicate that someone tried to pull it off, perhaps to sell on the market, but for the most part, it hadn't budged. 

 "How are you going to get it?" Dongwoo asked, tightening his own cloak around his neck.

Myungsoo didn't answer, not for lack of an explanation, but simply because he didn't hear him. Staring at the golden flare, his soul navigated through a feeling, once buried, now alive and thriving- guilt. His voyage to the diabolical pit of blazing darkness lingered in the back of his mind like a somber shadow. He was made aware of the countless lives he had taken with that very sword. It was fashioned with the purpose of shedding blood and it had achieved its goal quite well. What would become of him, should his fingers lace around the hilt again?

His legs twitched, as if to suggest the idea of running away, but he still felt this need to take it. 

 "Move aside," he sternly ordered Dongwoo.

Like a hero of ancient lore, Myungsoo approached a nearby tree and yanked it out the ground with only a small strain of effort. His companion's jaw slacked and he was imbued with a sense of awe and fear. Never would he have imagined Myungsoo capable of such Herculean feat. The ground had trembled slightly when he tore the tree off the loam. Now the titan heaved the thick tree on his shoulder and walked with complete balance and control to the the barrier, unfazed by its sheer weight.

It made for easy picking now, to scale up the slanted tree as though it were a ramp. Face to face with his favored weapon, Myungsoo hesitated. His gaze was like the glare of one confronting their most hated enemy. It was an invisible adversary he was engaging with. His fingers touched the pommel, shaped like a skull, and didn't waver, fully grasping onto the leather-wrapped hilt. In a swift and violent motion, the sword had been freed, now being held aloft in his hand, piercing the heavens.

A morning zephyr blew against him, his windblown mane serving to aggrandize his gallant visage. The sword was sheathed in its scabbard where it remained as a reminder of his past sins.

 "Let's go on, then," he said as he rejoined his companion.

 Dongwoo nodded and turned his heel to walk after him. He felt a strong desire that bounded him to this kingdom, one that urged him to stay, but he knew better than to follow it. Nesher had greater plans than for him to pursue a place alongside the queen. When she had pled for both of them to stay while she consulted the heads of several other nations to gather against Oscuridaon in a final war, he felt his soul tugged by two opposing forces. One wanted him to stay, the other wanted him to leave and fulfill Nesher's word. He hadn't explicitly been ordered to take Myungsoo to Laroo, but an unexplainable impulse told him it was necessary.

 "Time is spent. Although you might've enjoyed staying here, I can't. Not that I have to explain myself, but my body is restless. I am like a caged lion that needs meat. I need to go to Laroo." Stopping in his tracks, Myungsoo continued, "Oscuridaon's return is imminent. It's a weird calling, this urge I have to go towards Laroo, but I can't escape it. I think something more than great technology lies there."

 "What do you mean?"

 Myungsoo grunted while his arms tensed. He couldn't be thorough with his reasoning. His mind was bogged with the longing to kill, the longing to run away, and the longing to call out for help. This yearning to cry for his god was shut down by a fierce anger that reminded him of all those times he could have intervened yet didn't.
 
 "I said I don't have to explain myself. Let's just go."

That he was vexed was noticeably clear to Dongwoo. He had no idea why and while he regarded the thought of asking him the reason, he considered he wouldn't be able to dig much of an answer out of him. 

Resuming his usual hasty strides, Myungsoo marched on with the plan of stopping only when necessary until they would reach the Forest of Echoes once again. It suited their need for a good junction while also providing countless spots to serve as hiding places should they require it. The exact location of the jungle was still a mystery to him, but with Dongwoo compliantly walking beside him, he figured he would guide him without objection. Whether Vitah and Laroo were a single place would be revealed to him as they made their journey.