Chapter 31

Fear was a Phoenix

Antares had been left stunned, but then rage suddenly overcame him. He had sworn death upon Yongsun, saying he would take back his heart by ripping it out of Yongsun’s chest. His words were venomous and filled with a rage that had been dwelling within him for centuries.

He had said he would use his claws to carve out his heart and watch as blood dripped from Yongsun’s chest staining the ground red. He would watch as she struggled to breathe and as Life drained from her eyes. Then he would take her heart and crush it in his hand as if it was nothing but a flower to be squashed.

Yongsun had flinched at Antares’ harsh words and fled back to the tent, all the while trying to hold her tears at bay. She did not bother to check to see if Antares had left as well or was following her.

When she reached the tent Yongsun saw that the light from the oil lamp had faded. She pulled the tent flap to the side and saw that the other Angels had fallen asleep. Yongsun clutched the pendant that glowed softly with red light in her pocket. She took the pendant out of her pocket and carefully placed it on her cot.

Yongsun changed out of her uniform and settled down on the cot, drawing the sheets over her. She held the sheets tightly, feeling the thin and flimsy material against her fingertips; feeling the creases and wrinkles. She sighed, closed her eyes, and waited for the dreams to take her away.

But there were no dreams this time, nowhere that Yongsun could run away to. Moonbyul did not appear either. Loneliness settled beside her this night. It wrapped its cold hands around Yongsun, holding onto her. And Yongsun shivered and reached out trying to find something to hold onto as well.

There was nothing to grasp except air; cold air that passed through Yongsun’s fingertips, disappearing into the night.

Yongsun danced in the dark eddies and whirlpools of her mind, she swam until she could swim no further, then she drowned herself in those eddies and whirlpools, sinking to the bottom of the ocean, remaining there until the sun rose.

Dawn arrived. Yongsun was already awake and was sitting outside with Lieutenant Hyojin watching the sun rise over Ironsmith. The Plateau had no mountains that could compare to Ironside, and so Yongsun sat, quietly, patiently, holding her breath as light fell over Couronne.

It all came to life so fast, Yongsun did not dare to blink, afraid she would miss it.

The stream in the distance ran quickly, powerful as it flowed over the rocks in the water. A green forest was located at the foot of the mountain. Bird Cherries, Dwarf Junipers, Birch and Aspen trees all grew in the forest and on the mountainside.

A small bird sat in a tree and sang a song of hope in a small thin voice. Yongsun joined it, humming the bird’s melody with her own sweet voice. 

«You have a very nice tone, Head Angel.» Hyojin complimented Yongsun with a soft smile.

«Thank you.» Yongsun nodded shyly.

«You would’ve been a good singer.»

«In another life, perhaps.» Yongsun said and looked back at the sun, then hummed the small hopeful melody again.

They sat together for a while, basking in the peaceful harmony. If this was what Life would look like after the War, then Yongsun would absolutely fight for it now. She would fight for the sun, the Stars, the moon. She would fight for all the Beings in Couronne, Altair, Sul-fur-zaar, Nordfjord, and all the places beyond.

Yongsun thought she understood it now; Destiny and all that. She had dwelled on the beauty of life, she had watched the Stars, but she could not get too carried away looking up at the sky, for now was the time to live.

And perhaps that was how Yongsun had conquered not only herself, but the Fate of Cosmos, Belief in the Stars.

By orders of the King and the Lieutenant Colonel, Yongsun remained near Ironsmith to treat the wounded. Archangel Solji, along with Angel Irene and Angel Wheein had been sent further north where the battle raged. Rumours spread saying that Altairians fought viciously, as if they were possessed by beasts, or so the tales went…

The Infirmary tent back in Ironsmith was quiet, the only people who came were miners who had been injured in the cave mines. They usually needed antibiotics to clean the cuts and scrapes on their bodies. Yongsun looked at their wounds and was the one who decided how the resources would be distributed. She carried a vial of Silent Flower on her hip as well, but luckily she did not have to use it.

Yongsun quietly hoped for all of the Angels’ safe return.

Angel Sicheng and Angel Joy were with her in the tent. Sicheng was busy patching up a young girl who had fallen and scrapped her knee. Angel Joy kept looking back at the tent flaps, waiting for the Angels to return.

Only a handful of other Angels remained with Yongsun, but they were in Ironsmith, scouting the streets. 

There were horrible whispers that went around, scaring the locals. They said an air raid would come soon, and Ironsmith would be destroyed just like Kingston. Another whisper said that Ironsmith would be infiltrated by Altair’s top soldiers. Rumour had it that they were so skilled that they could move in silence, but when they attacked, they struck like thunderbolts.

Another rumour was that Altair’s soldiers had mastered the Art of Magic. Yongsun frowned at that and wondered if perhaps they were magicians. Of course, there were no magicians left alive in Couronne except for her and Moonbyul.

But beyond Couronne, there could very well be plenty of magicians, wandering, walking, using their art and following Destiny like the honourable Starfollowers they probably were —like Moonbyul.

Yongsun sat down on an empty cot. The infirmary was quiet. Angel Sicheng helped the young girl out of the tent, while Angel Joy had ripped her eyes away from the tent flap and was reading through the Book of Silver, comforting herself with prayers.

It was quiet, too quiet for war, and Yongsun could not stop her hands from shaking. She stood, then sat down again and sighed. She ran a hand through her hair, which was wet and thick with sweat. Yongsun stood once more, knowing she would go mad if she stayed in the infirmary tent any longer.

«Angel Sicheng.» She said, voice steady. «I am going in to Ironsmith to aid the other Angels.»

Angel Sicheng looked at her with concern in his eyes. But he remained quiet and nodded.

Yongsun left, feeling lighter. The sun was bright, unrelenting as it fell upon Yongsun’s skin like fire. She picked up her pace, the maze of tents faded behind her, the city of Ironsmith appeared before her.

Ironsmith was not particularly pretty or beautiful like Kingston or Port. It was mostly grey and brown, and dull. The houses looked rundown, the streets dry from the heat of the sun. The city smelled of smoke from the mines, and Yongsun scrunched her nose, wishing she had brought a scarf to ward off the strong stench.

She walked, and the men and women who were too old to work in the mines, and the children who were too young to hold a pickaxe, watched as Yongsun made her way down the streets.

Bitterly, it reminded Yongsun of Kingston, and how the gentlemen and the ladies watched her as if she was some foreign creature. But here, perhaps, she truly was one, because Ironsmith did not have a home for Angels. The closest city that housed Angels was Avion, but that was still far away from here.

Yongsun pondered as she walked, thinking back to Antares and his haunting words. She had figured it out, and she would have to die. It frightened her, and Yongsun would very much like to live, but perhaps, by some miracle, she could outplay death.

Moonbyul would know how, she was Yongsun’s last hope. But hope was like Light and it faded quickly. If Moonbyul did not get to Yongsun soon, that sliver of hope would vanish.

Yongsun thought about her dreams as well, which she could not make out properly —were they truly dreams or were they prophecies?

Moonbyul had appeared some nights ago, but then again it was not Moonbyul. Or at least Yongsun had not recognised her at first. Moonbyul was much younger, littered with battle scars and bruises.

It had not taken long for Yongsun to understand what was going on, and it made her more aware of the art which was magic: How powerful it was that it could bring one person’s past into another person’s future.

And Yongsun had told Moonbyul that she loved her, would always love her, past, present and future. It was both fair and unfair. But it had sealed Yongsun’s fate; there was no one else she was meant to be with.

Yongsun turned a corner, walking down an alleyway. She listened and heard fire crackling. She looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was there, but there was no one. She frowned and felt her heart thump with fright.

The streets became narrower and Yongsun wanted to go back, but when she looked behind her she saw the street stretching on and on but with no way out. She was trapped.

Fire crackled in her ear again, it was like a shout, a cry for help.

Darkness fell around Yongsun, but she did not scream. She closed her eyes as she felt ice wrap around her, leeching onto her skin making her shiver. Yongsun dropped to the ground, gasping as she clenched her hand and held it over her chest.

«You’re here.» Arah rushed to Yongsun’s side and placed a hand on Yongsun’s shoulder. «I called for you and you came.»

Arah’s smile was small and soft, but her hands were cold.

Yongsun stood slowly and braced herself against the wall, lest she lose her balance and fall again. She gazed at Arah through the dark, looking at her arms and legs. The cuts and bruises were nearly gone and Yongsun frowned at that, wondering if Arah knew about magic.

Or perhaps it was the old priestesses that Arah always talked about who knew about the Art of Magic. It would not surprise Yongsun if they did.

«How are you feeling now?» Yongsun whispered, scared that if she raised her voice someone would rush in and she would get caught, and Arah would be punished.

«I am better. Much better.»

Arah fiddled with the short hem of her dress, which was not really a dress but a rag sewn together. Arah looked sheepishly up at Yongsun, her eyes shone with something —something that made Yongsun’s chest clench and her heart ache.

Yongsun had always thought of Arah’s eyes as being like a raging fire, but now she thought they were kind, and if Arah had not been so ill-destined, Yongsun thought she would have been a kind and warm child. She would have been a happy child, with a happy childhood, and would smile only for happy reasons.

But there were no happy reasons to smile at: This was a sad and dismal place where only torture and punishment took place. Then again, Arah probably did not know anywhere else other than this place, had probably never been beyond these walls.

«I know when you’re hurting. I feel it too.» Arah said softly and reached out, touching Yongsun’s arm.

Yongsun gasped. It burnt like fire, it stung like a thorn. Her body shook, as if her heart was trying to escape her chest. She was being pu