The carriage stopped before the small black door in the deserted alley.

‘Your Majesty, this is it.’ His right hand man Jinki said, looking at the King who’d cloaked himself in a dark robe so that he wouldn’t be recognised if he were to run into anyone.

He quickly stepped out of the carriage, but before he’d even had the chance to knock on the door, a voice immediately stopped him in his tracks.

‘You didn’t want to believe me, your Majesty…when I told you that your wife will lose her life in the fires. You had me thrown into a dungeon for years until I found myself out. So why are you here? Why have you come!’

The feminine voice was loud and clear, causing Jinki to slightly step back in fear while the two horses that were pulling the carriage fidgeted in discomfort.

The King wasn’t surprised that the Mother of Spirits was already expecting his visit. She was powerful. More powerful than he had wanted to believe in a very long time.

She had predicted things for him before and when he wasn’t having it, being in utter denial, he had indeed thrown her into the dungeon, hoping she’d die along with her prophecies.

‘Mother of Spirits,’ he spoke loudly, hoping she’d listen to him.

‘I have come in peace. I am here to save my people. I-‘

‘Why should I help you now! You’ve never believed me before! Why now?’

The King sighed and unwillingly thought of his wife, the Queen of Seoul, who had been killed in a fire that the rebellion had set near his castle.

He thought of Jimin, his first born son who was supposed to be his successor but was now gone as well.

He thought of the poor who were starving in the city and the war that was close to breaking out again as the neighbouring Kingdoms were demanding submission.

All these things the Mother of Spirits had predicted when she was still living within the main part of the Kingdom before he’d exiled her to the outskirts.

‘Because if you help me you will help your Kingdom. My wife is gone! My first son was poisoned-‘

‘Which I have both predicted!’

‘And so for that very reason I come to you now! Please! My strength is no longer as it was! It’s fading and the only son I have left, the Crown Prince, has come of age! I need to know, Mother of Spirits! I need to know what needs to be done so that when the time comes, he will rule justly and treat my people well! Please!’

He was begging now.

He was the King of the Kingdom of Seoul and he was begging.

He was this desperate.

‘Reliable sources tell me that the rebellion against the crown has become stronger, anarchy is knocking on people’s doors and more and more are being sacrificed for corruption and greed. I beg of you, Mother of Spirits! If not for me, then for the people of Seoul!’

There was silence for a few seconds and for a moment the King thought that he’d come in vain.

However the door he stood in front of then magically opened a slither.

The King sighed in relief as he swiftly took the opportunity and pushed it open, entering the space.

It was a small house, but it was a beautifully crafted place that most likely had been created with the help of magic.

The walls all looked like lined tree trunks which held very old and valuable spell books, bound in handmade leather.

There were all kinds of candles which lit up the space as well: tealights, tapers, candles in jars & holders as well as oil lamps.

The King noticed the shelves to his right that most likely held hundreds of jars in various sizes.

Some of them held crystals, others contained some sort of herb or other powered substances.

He could have occupied himself for a very long time looking at all these trinkets in the lair of the Mother of Spirits but he was interrupted when she motioned for him to sit down in the centre of her living space which was an averaged sized circle on the floor that seemed to be clear of candles.

Without a word, he sat down, leaving his right hand man standing at the far end of the house, remaining by the door.

‘Your Majesty,’ the Mother of Spirits started, looking directly at him.

She was a woman of average height and plain looking. One would’ve never expected her to hold this much power and knowledge just by her appearance.

But in truth, the King knew that that this certainly wasn’t her real look.

She’d only cloaked herself in this disguise to protect herself.

‘You have not acted justly before, certainly not to me.' she started speaking.

‘I know, I know…’ the King nodded, feeling guilty.

‘And that son of yours-‘

‘I know how he is! The Crown Prince is spoiled and arrogant! But please…’ he hung his head, desperate for anything that would improve the situation.

Sighing, the Mother of Spirits sat down in front of the King and silently took his hand into hers, tracing his palm with her fingertips.

She then dropped his hand and reached next to her to grab a rather large round golden tray that she then went ahead and placed in between her and the King.

The tray held seven red tea lights in a circle and as she spoke softly in a language that the King didn’t understand, lit them one by one.

‘Now,’ she looked back at the King who had not stopped watching her for a second.

‘You must promise me that you will do as I say, your Majesty. Whatever the spirits may reveal, you will have to obey. If you do not, they will turn against you. Please remember this. You have to do all and exactly as they say.’

The King didn’t know how she’d done it, but suddenly she had placed a cool black stone into the his palm.

‘Promise, your Majesty!’ she insisted.

‘I-I promise!’

Nodding, she instructed him to be very quiet and place the stone in the centre of the tray that was sitting between them.

‘The truth will reveal itself when the spirits are ready…’ she spoke softly, closing her eyes as the King obeyed and placed the black stone on the tray.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the tray and space between them was covered in a thick white fog.

But just as quickly as the fog had come, he saw a small clearing in the midst of it that showed him a series of images that made him feel like his gut was twisting into knots.

The Caste of Seoul, the brick stone shimmering in the sun while the fields and trees around it were in full bloom. Vivid in all colours of flowers and plants.

Laughing children, restored homes, a food market fluorescing in the town square, selling fresh meats, vegetable, fruits and breads.

And then…inside the castle, he sees his son Taemin, sitting on the throne, not wearing the crown of a Prince but his very own crown, the crown of a King, on his head and looking dignified while consulting his councilmen with a strong and just lead. He’s more matured but not by a lot. Maybe by 7 or 8 years.

Then he sees Taemin walking, entering the royal chambers. But they are no longer the same chambers, but improved with bigger spaces and shelves and shelves of beautiful books. Then the bedroom. A large bed for two…and then…a nursery…

Taemin sighing in relief as he enters and sees a beautiful woman with long brown hair and fair skin a few years younger than him.

He sees her sitting in a beautifully crafted wooden rocking chair, nursing a few months’ old child in her arms, wrapped in a soft pink coloured quilt while a little boy is sitting at a piano, playing a beautiful melody, his feet not quite reaching the pedals on the instrument but his head holding the crown of a Prince. Taemin’s current crown.

Taemin watches them for a while before embracing the boy, laughing and ruffling his soft hair and then going to the woman who is smiling contently at them, leaning down to place a longing and gentle kiss on her forehead and then lips.

The King didn’t know that he was holding his breath until he fell back and gasped for air, feeling the sweat running down his face.

Suddenly, it was all gone. The fog, the images, this feeling…

‘What-‘

The Mother of Spirits covered the tray with a purple throw, whispering a few words of thanks to the spirits before opening her eyes and looking at the King who just about got himself to sit back up.

‘Do you understand, your Majesty?’ she asked simply, waiting for him to collect himself and respond.

The King swallowed and shook his head, still breathing heavily.

He knew what he saw of course. But he had no clue as to what this all meant.

The Mother of Spirits looked at him in all seriousness, her eyes holding his in a fixed stare.

‘What you saw was the Kingdom of Seoul under your son’s ruling. As you have seen, the poor will no longer starve. They will have homes and families and there will be no imminent danger.’

‘B-But,’ the King panted, speaking quickly as his heart was still beating rapidly in his chest.

‘The councilmen! None of them were mine! I mean none of mine will be part of his! How is that possible? Why are they not by his side helping him rule? What does this mean?’

‘That I cannot tell, your Majesty.’

‘And the woman? These children! The boy playing the piano!’

‘Your daughter in law and your grandchildren. She will be the future Queen of this Kingdom.’

The King took a second to digest this information before speaking again, the Mother of Spirits allowing him the moment by staying quiet.

‘So Taemin will bear the crown, he will have a family and the war will end. This is great! Seoul will be-‘

‘Your Majesty,’ the Mother of Spirits held up her hand to stop him this time, knowing that the King was getting ahead of himself.

‘As I said, your Majesty. What you saw will only come to pass when you abide by the spirits’ rules.’

‘I don’t understand…’

‘You have now seen what you can have. What can become of your people, of your only living son. But you have to remember that only when you do as they say, your fate will align with what you saw.’ she explained soberly.

‘It is your son who can bring the peace but your grandson is the one maintaining it.’

‘Then what do I need to do?’

The King looked at the Mother of Spirits, eager to do whatever it took to have these beautiful images in his head to become a reality.

The Mother of Spirits looked deeply into the King’s eyes as she spoke.

‘The woman you saw? She’s your son’s destined mate, your majesty. You need to find her and have your son marry her.’

Confusion laced the King’s features as he snapped his head back at the woman in front of him.

‘Mate?’

‘You do know what this means, right?’

He was silent there for a moment, thinking about her words. Nobody believed in this anymore, mates only appeared in fairytales and other idle stories.

But before he could speak again, the Mother of Spirits continued.

‘You were married to your mate, your Majesty. You know what it is and that it exists. Common folk don’t know about it, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Male royals of Seoul can only rule with their destined mate by their side. That’s why your time is coming to an end. Since your wife has passed, you know that your time here on earth has become limited. You can feel it, don’t you. The stiffness in your limbs, the constricted sensation around your heart…’

The King was dead silent as he listened, her every word resonating with him.

‘You may have been able to outlive your mate as a royal-blood. But a decade is the longest you can go on without your mate and it’s been eight for you.’

He knew.

A male royal’s fate of having a mate was a force of nature not to be reckoned with. It was a gut-wrenching, all consuming, can’t-live without need that would start the very minute an alpha royal-blood would set eyes on his omega. He wouldn’t be able to have any other woman but her and will not be able to live contently without her.

She’d be his life-line, his air to breathe, his everything.

‘You went against nature with your first son and made him marry someone that wasn’t his mate and he got killed. This is what this is, your Majesty. It’s nature. Not a fable nor tale. Male royal-bloods need to be with their destined mate. That’s their fate. The grandson you saw? He’ll be key in maintaining this. Failing to do so will change the course of the future.’

Finding his voice, the King nodded and cleared his throat.

‘Then what now?’

‘We need to ask the spirits now, your Majesty.’

The Mothe