Awakened Again

It seemed like a chill passed through Sungjong’s body as he stared at the dark opening of the cave where the reign of darkness began.

It’s as if yesterday, everything were a bedtime story. And now here I am, standing in front of a place I’ve only imagined.

Suddenly, he felt the pouch around his neck give a violent jerk, and before he had mustered the courage to enter the dark cave, some mysterious force coming from the shard was pulling him along. He barely had time to take in the details such as to which direction he was being pulled and how long he was dragged. All he knew what that his pouch was dragging him, his feet are getting wet, and he was getting horrid cuts from the rocks all around him. Then, the pulling suddenly stopped with a jerk and Sungjong fell face-first on the cold cave floor.

He tried to get up and winced as his left knee touched the dusty ground. He was cut there, and in other places too. His clothes were ripped in various areas as well. He coughed and sat up, and then he surveyed his surroundings. He seemed to have arrived at the heart of the mountain; he was in a dome-shaped room with smooth stone walls and a crater right above the center. The high opening barely gave light, but it was enough for Sungjong to see around him. And he began noticing other things as well.

There was a pile of burnt wood directly under the crater, and a stake stood amidst the pile. Burnt ropes also littered the area beside the pile, and among the broken ropes were dark stains. Sungjong had to get closer to confirm his suspicions: it was dried blood. And all around were debris: loose stones and rock.

A chill went down his spine as he backed away from the scene. It was so quiet and it suddenly felt so cold that he felt his knees from shaking.

“It’s just like what uncle said,” he whispered to himself. “This place has never been disturbed since. Those were the very same ropes that—”

He stopped abruptly. He couldn’t bare the next thought he had been about to utter, but it crossed his mind anyway. Those were the very same ropes that twisted the damsel to her death.

Just then, he heard a commotion coming from the entrance. He heard muttering and loud bursts of speech that seemed to be spoken by one voice. Sungjong ducked behind a huge boulder and unconsciously held his breath.

Despite being mad, he’s not such a fool after all.

Howon the mad merchant has found the cave. Sungjong squeezed father into the shadows when Howon passed his hiding place, but to his great shock he felt something like cloth press behind him. He jumped in surprise and turned, only to come face-to-face with his missing uncle.

“Uncle Jungryeol!” he gasped.

“S-Sungjong?” His uncle was bound by his arms against the cave wall. He looked pretty beaten up: his face was bruised, and one of his eyes was red and swollen. Other than that, his legs could barely hold him up. Suddenly Sungjong’s wounds didn’t seem at all bad.

“Uncle, what happened to you?” said Sungjong frantically. “Here, let me take these ropes off—”

“No, Sungjong, get away from here,” said Jungryeol. He coughed up and his voice sounded like his throat hadn’t been watered for a long time. “Go away, as far as you can. Go back to Sungjin and forget about this place.”

“Uncle what’s wrong with you? I’ve been through great heights to get up here, you know,” snapped Sungjong as he tried cutting the ropes loose. “Let me just…”

“Get out before he sees you!” hissed Jungryeol. But his face froze and he looked above Sungjong’s head. Sungjong suddenly felt a chill run down his spine (for the umpteenth time that day) when a shadow fell over him and his uncle.

“It seems like my prisoner has managed to send for a visitor.”

Sungjong turned around slowly and saw dark, foreboding eyes staring him down. It was the king from the North. Sungjong was struck by cold fear as he remembered the village tales about this king who tortured his guard to death and who led wild searches for the other mirror pieces. Sungjong couldn’t even gulp.

“King Myungsoo, please don’t hurt my nephew,” pleaded Jungryeol. “He just got lost here. Let him go, please.”

The king stepped forward and hit Jungryeol across the mouth. “Silence, fool. No one just gets lost in the Mountain. He is here for a reason.”

In a flash the king had whipped out a black sword and was brandishing it in front of Sungjong.

“Step away from the wall, boy, and come to the center,” he said in a low voice. Sungjong carefully made his way around the king while keeping a good distance from the blade. In the center he saw the merchant tied up with fresh cords. The tall boy wasn’t there.

Upon seeing him, the madman began yelling and thrashing against his bonds. “There you are, you lying piece of dirt! Let me at you!”

In a flash, the king was hovering over the madman, and the latter fell silent. “Didn’t I tell you to shut your trap? Or do you want me to run you through?”

The madman’s eyes grew wide in fear, something no one has ever done since Howon became mad. Sungjong trembled inside, but he didn’t show it. However, he flinched when the king suddenly turned to him. He tied the younger boy with fresh ropes and made to sit across the mad merchant. Howon looked at him with such an intense glare that he gulped and looked down. He glanced at his uncle, who mouthed ‘I’m sorry’. He was about to ask ‘What for?’ when king Myungsoo appeared again, and following close behind was the tall boy: Sungyeol.

Sungjong wondered why the tall boy wasn’t doing anything when Myungsoo threw aside a thing that glinted. It landed closely beside Sungjong’s foot and his breath hitched. It was a stone dagger so sharp that it got buried through the cave floor. He looked up to see Myungsoo shoving Sungyeol to the floor and tied him with more ropes.

“This surely is a splendid time,” announced Myungsoo as he stood up. His voice resonated through the cave, filling it with sound until the most hidden crevices. “Here before me—bound and helpless—are my three competitors for the Mirror. What a great gift from the gods!”

“Yes, you should have a banquet to fit in with the occasion,” muttered Sungyeol. He was brave to even speak up, more so to speak up sarcastically.

“Oh I will celebrate, believe me,” said Myungsoo, unfazed. “And as decoration, I will put all of your heads in a line above the dais in my Great Hall!”

He’s barking mad too, thought Sungjong. Who hangs human heads for decoration?

King Myungsoo knelt in front of Sungjong. He stared into the young boy’s eyes and inched forward until Sungjong could almost feel the king’s nose and breath on his face.

“I’ll be taking this,” he murmured and snatched the pouch off Sungjong’s neck. The string broke and a stinging feeling came to Sungjong’s nape.

Myungsoo took a mirror shard from Sungyeol’s pocket without any difficulty. But when he knelt in front of Howon, the merchant aimed a kick at him and yelled. Myungsoo facial expression grew dangerous and he leapt against the merchant and hovered over his body.

“You will give it to me.” His voice was cold and hard and emotionless that it made Sungjong shiver. Howon’s hard expression melted away and he let Myungsoo take the mirror from him. The moment the mirror shard lost contact with Howon’s skin, he fell limp, but not unconscious.

Myungsoo took his own from a chain around his neck and arranged the four pieces on the floor so that they formed an oval mirror. A black shadow sizzled out of the four and went over the cracks. Soon the glass was fully mended and it was once again the Mirror of Beauty.

A black entity burst forth from the mirror and blocked out the light from the crater entirely.