A Merchant’s Tale

A year and a half has passed since prince Myungsoo became king. The kingdom reflected its ruler’s methods, and it didn’t look at all nice. It became neglected, dark, and gloomy, as opposed to when Sunggyu was alive. No one could go against the new king’s orders, or he would kill them all, as he personally did to a former guard of his. The horrific event left the people’s memories and eyes scarred with what the king’s unleashed wrath could do. The kingdom was left to stand on broken wooden legs, as King Myungsoo has devoted his every waking hour looking for the rest of the mirror.

The news of the breaking monarchy reached its allied kingdom in the West, and it grieved their king. He and Sunggyu have been good acquaintances for a long while, and he was especially fond of Sunggyu’s younger brother. As he was pondering on the heavy matter upon his throne, a lady with messed-up hair and a distressed expression entered the room. She kneeled and bowed her head.

“Speak,” said the king.

The girl raised her head. “Your majesty,” said she. “I am but a woman, yet I have a troubling story to tell. It disturbs me tremendously and I thought you could help me.”

“What is this tale you speak of? What has happened?” asked the king, urgency rising with his voice.

“It was a stormy night a few moons ago and I had called my husband’s friend to our home…”

And the merchant’s tale began.

--flashback—

The moon was high up in the great night sky, robust and colored ivory, and it would have made a beautiful view if not for the thrashing trees and the howling wind. There was a storm, a great tempest, which passed by the kingdom and destroyed everything in its path. On that particular night a man bravely sought out a friend of his, for his wife had a message sent to him that her husband was behaving quite unnaturally. He fought against the bite of the wind and the icy rain to get to their house. Upon arriving, he found the door locked and knocked on it loudly, hoping for someone to answer it. His friend’s wife did.

“Oh, Dongwoo, you’re here,” she said. She was out of breath. “Please, help Howon. He’s been impossible since this morning when he got back from a trade.”

“Where is he, Resa? What has happened to him?” the man asked.

“I don’t know,” Resa replied. “He just keeps himself locked in the room and hasn’t eaten any meals. He doesn’t even answer me, and I’m afraid to go in, lest he unleashes his anger on me. Please, I know you’re a busy man, but help him, as a friend.”

Dongwoo put his hands on her quaking shoulders. “I will, Resa. Calm down. Prepare a meal for us, won’t you? I’m sure he’s famished.”

Resa smiled at him gratefully and disappeared to their kitchen. Meanwhile, Dongwoo made his way to the bedroom. It was locked, as Resa had said, so he knocked.

“Howon?” he called. No reply.

Dongwoo twisted the knob in an odd manner only the three of them know, and the lock gave way. The door creaked open and he saw his dear friend and fellow merchant Howon, sitting on the bed and staring out the window.

“Howon? Are you feeling alright?” he asked quietly. “Should I leave?”

“You should, if you know what’s good for you.”

Dongwoo was taken aback. It wasn’t like Howon to answer him in such a cold manner. They have been friends for years. Dongwoo took two strides across the room and put a hand on Howon’s left shoulder.

“Howon, I—”

Howon then turned sharply and stared at his friend, as if contesting him. Dongwoo saw his eyes, and what he saw sent tingles down his spine: Howon’s eyes have turned midnight black. Then he spoke.

“You’re here to take my gold, aren’t you? Or are you here to take Resa?” Howon said in a raspy, uncontrolled voice.

Now Howon’s wife Resa is a very beautiful woman, the pearl of her village. Many men have come to woo her, but she refused them all. She, Howon, and Dongwoo have been friends since they were very young. When Resa married Howon, Dongwoo was his best man. But one thing that Resa doesn’t know is that Dongwoo used to like her as well, but he set aside those feelings for his best friend.

“No, Howon. Resa called me here to help you,” said Dongwoo, not understanding what was happening. “And of your gold, what’s yours is yours, unless we went on the trade together, which we didn’t.”

“Lies!”

Howon leapt at Dongwoo, pinning him on the floor. Howon had always been the stronger of the two, and in a flash his hands were locked around Dongwoo’s throat. Dongwoo struggled under Howon’s grip, but it was steel-like and immovable.

“H-Howon… Wh-What are you d-doing…” gasped Dongwoo.

“You… You’ve always looked at my Resa in a way you shouldn’t be, haven’t you?” Howon said. He stared into Dongwoo’s eyes with his own as empty as a dark abyss. Dongwoo cowered from him.

“I haven’t, Howon! What has gotten into you?” said Dongwoo. Howon’s grip tightened.

“And my gold! You’ve always been jealous of me because I’m a better merchant than you and I am richer man!”

“No, I haven’t! I’ve always been your friend and I’ve always been proud of your successes!” spat Dongwoo. But Howon didn’t listen. Things began to turn ugly.

Howon’s fingers wrapped around Dongwoo’s neck even tighter. Dongwoo made choking and gagging sounds. He lost control over his legs and they were kicking everywhere in feeble attempts to get away. But Howon didn’t budge. Dongwoo’s face slowly turned faint blue, until finally, he just stopped moving. Hi chest gave one final heave before resting eternally. His eyes turned glassy and stared vacantly over Howon’s head, up into the ceiling.

He was dead.

Behind the door, Resa gasped in fear and turned to run for help. But no one would open their door for her. She stayed in a quiet inn for a while to hide from her husband. A few days later she heard from the townsfolk that Howon has gone mad, going through the village in search for her. But he gave up after a few days and headed east without a word to anyone.

--end of flashback—

The king sat still on his throne, looking even more bothered by this news. He studied the flustered girl, whom he had assumed to have been the madman’s wife.

“Did you notice anything else that could help us track down your husband?” asked the king.

“I’m not really concerned of him returning, my king,” replied Resa. “I just want him safe, wherever he may be. But I did notice something new the night he killed Dongwoo.”

The king sat forward in his throne. “What is it?”

“There was something hanging around his neck,” said Resa, her forehead creasing with the burden to remember. “It was a silver thing when I first glanced at it, and later when the townsfolk were talking, I heard someone say it was a shard of a mirror. Very peculiar, if you ask me.”

The king nodded. Very peculiar, indeed.