Changing Wind

~

“Minseok,” a soft voice whispered, “mama is going to take a good care of you. I will not let anything bad happen to you, alright? Trust mummy,” the queen spoke, caressing the sleeping baby’s hair. A sad smile was playing on her lips, as she watched the child’s chest rise and fall slowly, his complexion deathly pale. “Mummy will find a way to cure you, my snowflake. You will grow up to be a strong and mighty prince,” he chuckled, and a tear fell down her cheek, “mama loves you more than anything and anyone else. I will never let anything bad happen to you. I promise you.”

“Elsa?” a whisper spoke from behind the queen, and when she looked up she saw her husband, “the Guardian is here. We need to start. We have only one chance.”

The queen nodded, and took the sleeping infant in her arms.

For the last time.

~

Blood was staining the white snow, as the queen’s dead body was hanging from the massive icy stake.

“What is dead should stay dead,” her voice rang in the air, as if circulating around her.

Jongdae stepped away from the wooden stake to which he had been caged, and slowly neared Minseok.

“Thank you,” he said, standing next to the boy, watching the queen’s corps.

He felt empty, but in his emptiness, yet another sparkle appeared.

Minseok saved him. He cared. Someone cared.

“Life for life, my prince,” the older replied, in the same manner he used to.

“Do not call me prince,” Jongdae almost chuckled to himself, remembering all the nights and times spent in the hut, catching Minseok addressing him just that, “please, do not call me that, Minseok,” he added, whispering.

“Minseok,” the older repeated, the name feeling foreign to him, “who am I, Jongdae?”

“You are the prince of the North. You are the master of the frost. Now, you have become the murdered,” he whispered the last part almost inaudibly, looking at the blood on the other side of the transparent wall, “you are a Northerner, my prince.”

“Do not call me that,” the older quickly spoke, his eyes glued to the body hanging in the air. “I am no prince. A murderer,” he mumbled, looking at his hands, “this I am.”

Suddenly, a face came into their view on the other side of the wall.

“Why?” Junmyeon asked weakly, looking pale, “why would you do it?”

Minseok frowned and looked up at the queen.

“She was your mother,” the younger prince continued, “she was my mother!” he yelled, and then calmed down, as Yixing appeared next to him and placed a hand over his shoulder.

“Mother,” Minseok whispered, looking at his hands again, “I do not have and never had a mother, prince Junmyeon. Your queen, however,” he spoke, looking up, “your queen has been dead for days.”

Jongdae frowned, “what do you mean?”

Minseok raised an eyebrow at the younger, “you cannot see?” he asked, surprised.

“No!” Jack’s voice rang through the patio, and the king fell to his knees.

“Father!” Junmyeon yelled, running quickly into the man’s direction, “father!”

The king’s lips were trembling, “she is dead. My queen is dead,” he whispered, “they killed her –“

There was a golden envelop in the king’s hand, which he gave to Junmyeon.

“Avenge her, Junmyeon,” the king greeted through his teeth, “avenge your mother and avenge the North.”

“But… I do not understand!” Junmyeon exclaimed, “what they, father?! Minseok is right here! He killed her!”

The king stood up, and building a thick ice wall around the stake and the queen, he separated them from the people gathered to see Jongdae’s execution. Most of them had already fled, anyway.

The moment Jack’s walls closed, Minseok’s barrier melted immediately, and so did the icy stake on which the queen hanged. The oldest of the princes’ quickly moved himself in front of Jongdae, as if trying to hide him from the king of the North. Jack only smiled at him sadly, gathering his wife’s remains in his arms.

“I will do no harm to him, son,” he spoke to Minseok, pushing a few bangs out of the queen’s way, “I have a favour to ask of him. I need him alive.”

“Father, what are you talking about?” Junmyeon asked confused.

“The envelop, Jun,” the king explained, “I found it in your mother’s desk. She was acting weird the last days, but I thought it was due to founding Minseok. However, right before Jongdae’s supposed execution, she seemed to have lost her mind. I was worried. And then I found this. Magic still lingers on it,” he explained, and reached under the queen’s hair. Upon pulling a small object over her head, everyone, except for him and Minseok, gasped and Junmyeon turned his head in disgust.

The moment a red pendant was taken off of the queen, her body turned into a bunch of decaying corps. As if a glamour was taken off of it.

“She was tricked and hexed. This had already been killing her for days.”

“You said,” Jongdae looked at Minseok, “that she had already been dead. How did you know?”

“I saw her,” the older mumbled, “I saw her like that. When she was standing in the circle of fire.”

“How?” Junmyeon asked, but no one answered him.

“Who would have done something like this?” Yixing voiced his thoughts for the first time.

“Hyuna,” Jongdae answered before giving it a second thought, “you said that it was delivered to her days ago. That must have been after I escaped the West and took Jongin with me. She knew I was coming her. She knew –“ he suddenly stopped, and his eyes widened.

“What happened, Jongdae?” Minseok asked, grabbing the younger’s elbow.

“She was the one behind your kiddnaping,” he explained, “she was the one standing behind Jongin’s blindness. She knew the man you served all your life. She had it all planned –“

“Jongdae,” Jack spoke, his clothes stained with his love’s blood, “I need to ask you of something.”

“Yes?”

“The North will not remain calm. We will fight. We will pay back for what she had done.”

“I understand.”

“Father?” Junmyeon asked, “where is this going to?”

“Take Junmyeon to the West,” the king spoke, “let him avenge the North.”

“No,” the prince replied, “I will take Junmyeon to the West. He can kill whoever he wishes. However,” he pointed, “the witch is mine.”

“Father!” Junmyeon gasped, “I –“

“Is it not what you asked for, my prince?” Jongdae laughed, “spilling the Westerners blood? You cannot have mine, but I am giving you everyone elses.”

“Why are you doing this?” Junmyeon asked.

“I do have my reasons.”

~

The queen’s funeral happened the same day, at sunset. There was no one there except for the king, Junmyeon and Yixing.

They stood on the edge of a wooden bridge, watching the boat burn, and the wind taking the remains of their queen to the sky.

“May she find peace,” Yixing whispered, watching a new star appearing on the sky.

“What do you want me to do, father?” Junmyeon asked, referring to the previously given task.

“I want you to get rid of the West, my son,” the king replied softly, “make it disappear from the maps of this world. Make everyone forget of the Western kingdom. Destroy, what was once called the Western Kingdom. Ruin it all.”

“Understood. What about the Storm Bringer?”

“He will help us. But if it is necessary, get rid of him as well. However, only if it is necessary.”

“What about Minseok?”

The king sighed, “he will either kill us or destroy us all. Time will show.”

“My king,” Yixing spoke, “may I go as well?”

“Do you really want to?”

“I believe, your majesty, you are not aware of what else is happening. Great forces were awakened; old magic is coming back to these lands. The hunting will start again. The Shadow Tribes are going down from the mountains.”

“How do you know that, Yixing?”

“With all the respect, my king, you seem to forget I was growing up in the East,” he smiled softly, and bowed.

“Easterners,” the king mumbled, “alright, Yixing. I will allow you to go. And I will remember your words. However, I will pray for them not to be true. If what you are saying is true, we are all in great danger.”

Yixing bowed, and made his way back to the castle, leaving the king and the prince alone.

“You are not going to come back soon, my son.”

“I know, father.”

“You may not come back at all.”

“I know, father.”

“You are the only one I have left.”

“You have Minseok.”

The king sighed, “remember, Junmyeon, not blood makes family. Minseok does not trust any of us, and I have not seen him for over twenty years. Also, I do not think he will stay, if prince Jongdae is leaving.”

“Why? Why would Minseok follow Jongdae?”

“Because your brother is the Winter Boy,” the king whispered, as if that explained everything, “there are many secrets around us, Junmyeon. I believe that great things are written for you in the stars. But be careful. Be careful who you trust. And most importantly, be careful with Yixing. I think he hides the most from you.”

“Yixing? Yixing would never lie to me, father!”

“Child, he may love you, but that does not mean he is always honest with you. He keeps many secrets, so you must be careful.”

“How can you be so sure? You had nothing against him!”

“I did not. I still do not have. But he is from the East. And as much as you do not trust the Westerners, Junmyeon, you do not trust those from the East even more.”

~

Minseok was sitting on the cold stone wall of the castle, facing the snow covered mountains and forest. Everything was quiet around him, and warm, spring wind was brushing his skin. He was looking at a small, frozen pool of water on the ground not far from him. He was looking, but he did not know who he was looking at.

“Who are you?” he whispered, sighing, “who am I?”

“I am Jongdae,” he heard a voice coming from behind him, so he quickly turned around, “and you are Minseok.”

The older smiled softly upon spotting the prince, as if finding comfort in the presence of the younger. Everything was so foreign and confusing, that Jongdae seemed oddly familiar.

“Who is Minseok, then?” he whispered again, looking as the prince was sitting next to him.

“Minseok is Xiumin,” the younger pointed, looking at the tall mountains, “and Xiumin is mine,” he whispered softly, as if to himself, and placed his hand over the older’s.

Minseok blinked, stunned and confused, but then his expression quickly softened.

In the mess that were their lives now, they had no one but themselves.

“Everything is going to change now, right?” the older asked, and Jongdae only nodded, “I have blood on my hands, Dae… I killed the one person I was supposed to be calling mother.”

“You have heard the king. You did the right thing. She had been already dead.”

“I killed my own mother, Jongdae,” he repeated, the other’s words not reaching him.

The prince of the West did not reply, only tightened his grip on the other’s hand.

“I am planning on doing the same,” he confessed finally, turning to the side to look Minseok in the eyes, “I will kill the one person I used to call mother.”

Minseok swallowed, “why?”

Jongdae smiled softly at the other, “do you want to hear my story?”

~

“I am coming as well,” Minseok spoke softly, running his fingers over Jongdae’s scarred chest.

The prince of the North was shocked upon hearing Jongdae’s story, as well as figuring the witch was responsible for his suffering. They were sitting in front of each other, on the stone wall, and the moonlight was shining on them.

Jongdae smirked, “you missed me so much, you do not want to stay any longer without me, right?”

Minseok sent him a look, and took his hand away from the prince’s body, “you might have a pretty face, prince, but you are still a bit too straight forward.”

“Oh, Min! But we have been through so much together!” Jongdae whined, and it surprised him himself. He never whined. But he somehow felt really comfortable around the older.

“You killed me,” Minseok pointed, and Jongdae swallowed.

“I saved you!”

“You kissed me.”

“And what was so wrong about that?!”

“I am not gonna mention what else you have done.”

Jongdae smirked, “you mean how good I made you feel?”

“I was dying, Jongdae.”

There was something about the way the words were spoken – cold, accusing – that made Jongdae bit on his bottom lip and not answer. Minseok was, indeed, dying.

The older’s hand made its way up to the prince’s scarred chest again, and the tips of Minseok’s fingers brushed over the curved lines.

“And you were dying as well,” he whispered, and looked Jongdae in the eyes, “you were dead when I found you. That night. I brought corps into my hut.”

Jongdae’s eyes widened in confusion.

“What?” he whispered, stopping Minseok’s fingers from moving.

The older sighed, “you were dead, Jongdae. And I do not know how are you alive right now.”

Jongdae’s free hand automatically touched his left shoulder, looking for that one scar.

The snowflake.

“You,” he mumbled, looking the older in the eyes. They were beautiful, one black, one blue, shining in the moonlight, “you brought me back.”

“The magic I know does not bring people back,” Minseok mumbled, creating a snowflake, one looking exactly like Jongdae’s scar, on his palm.

“Then how would you explain this?” the prince asked, uncovering his shoulder.

“It is nothing but a scar, Jongdae,” Minseok whispered, looking away.

“What if it is not?”

“Jongdae. It is just a scar. The same one as all of your others. The same as all of mine. They are a reminder of pain and cruelty. And this one,” he pointed at the snowflake, “this one is Fortuna laughing at your face, reminding you about death with such an innocent thing.”

They stayed silent, thinking of the other’s words.

“I do not understand, Jongdae,” Minseok expressed finally.

“Me neither.”

“I feel so much hatred. I cannot deal with it,” the older confessed, “I want to –“

“Yes?”

“I want to burn everything and everyone around. I want to see everything turn to ashes. I am afraid.”

“I know how you feel,” Jongdae mumbled, and caressed the older’s cheek, “and I know only one way to deal with it.”

“How?”

“Come with me. Come with me and have your revenge. Burn anything and anyone that ever caused you pain. This is what I am going to do. And I would like you to help me.”

“Help you? How?”

“Lightning strikes twice and it burns like ice,” the prince of the West whispered and leant closer to Minseok, “it is time for a revenge, my Winter Boy.”

~

Minseok laid in his bed, looking at the black ceiling, thinking of Jongdae’s words.

There was so much to do, so little time, so much confusion.

He could not stay in the North, it was not his place and he was not safe here. He killed the queen. There was no one he could trust, no one except for Jongdae, the only person no one else trusted.

They needed to leave. He needed his revenge, Jongdae needed his.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw blood running down the streets of the village he grew up in, frozen corps lying everywhere, of people who did him wrong, and a heart burning white fire in his hand.

He hated the scenes, he did not want to see such things. He did not want to be a murdered. Was he a bad person? Life never spared him, he was never given a chance to experience anything good, or pleasant. The best gift he got from Fortuna was death. But even that was not painless.

Shivers ran down his spine when he thought of his death. He remembered it. He remembered being dead.

There was a knock on the door, and a moment later Jongdae came in.

“I am sorry for interrupting.”

“What are you doing here at this time?”

“It felt weird not spending a night with you,” he whispered, standing in the shadows by the door.

Minseok smiled from his place, and patted a space next to him on the bed.

“When I was a child, there was a kitten in the village. It would often come to my door, wanting to sleep in my bed, because the nights were really cold,” Minseok spoke, and Jongdae listened carefully, making himself comfortable, “you are just like that kitten,” the older chuckled.

“I am sorry,” Jongdae whispered, lying on his back. Minseok raised an eyebrow, confused.

“What for?”

“For being like that.”

Minseok sighed, and lying down, he threw his arm around Jongdae, “I liked that cat, you know.”

“Do you like me?”

“You are the only one I have, Jongdae.”

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“Saving me.”

“Life for life.”

“I did not save you to ask for something in return.”

“And I did not save you because I felt like I owe you.”

“Then why did you?”

“Why did you?”

“Because –“ the younger stopped and swallowed, “you know what I feel. And you are the only one I have, Minseok. My father is dying, Jongin left. Everyone here wants me dead. You are the only one left, Min.”

“We have to stay together, Jongdae. We cannot trust anyone, especially not Junmyeon. He works under his father’s orders. And the man has just lost his wife to the West’s doings.”

“I know,” Jongdae mumbled, “when this is all over, do you think we could – have something?”

“When this is all over, I do not expect us to be alive, Jongdae,” Minseok confessed, and a shiver ran down Jongdae’s spine. The northern castle was a really cold place.

“So I thought.”

“Do you remember when you kissed me?” Minseok asked suddenly, and Jongdae chuckeld to himself.

“The time you punched me, or all the times you actually enjoyed it?”

“We might not have anything when it is all over,” Minseok continued, “but that does not mean we cannot have anything now.”

Jongdae turned around quickly, surprised by the other’s words, “what do you mean?”

But Minseok did not reply, instead, he slowly placed his lips over Jongdae’s, and in comparison to what the younger prince felt before, he suddenly felt incredibly shy.

The air was changing, but to what direction none of them knew.

~

Two days later, at dawn, Jongdae, Minseok, Junmyeon and Yixing were standing in the shipyard, watching their ship being loaded.

None of them was talking; there seemed to be a weird tension between Junmyeon and Yixing, which surprised Jongdae. A soft wind was blowing, and the air was ice cold.

Suddenly, someone exited the woods behind them, and everyone’s eyes widened in confusion.

“Baekhyun?” Jongdae asked, surprised, “what are you doing here?”

“I am going with you,” the Guardian only said, joining the line they were standing in.

“Excuse me?” Junmyeon mumbled, looking at Yixing. But the other had his gaze fixed on the ship in front of them.

“Do not think I let you break our deal, prince,” Baekhyun said, looking at Jongdae, “I gave Jongin his sight back. Now, it is your turn to give me back Chanyeol.”

Jongdae sighed, “of course it is,” and he looked at the horizon.

There, where the sun was supposed to be rising, dark clouds started gathering.

The wind gained force, and suddenly the trees around them started breaking.

All of them looked around confused and on high alert, as the grounds around the ship started getting swallowed by darkness.

And then, from the black clouds, emerged something.

A shape so familiar to Jongdae, he gasped loudly and grabbed Minseok’s hand when his eyes landed on a black raven.

“Impossible,” Minseok mumbled, and Jongdae looked at him quickly. The older’s face was, however, unreadable.

“Prince Jondgae!” a loud scream sounded from the black ship emerging from the fog.

“No,” Jongdae whispered, and started shaking, “this is not happening.”

“Jongdae?” Minseok looked at him, alarmed, and tightened a grip on the younger hands, “what is happening?”

But the prince did not get to answer, as a strong wind blew once more, and a shape landed on the stone ground in front of them.

Minseok pushed Jongdae behind him, and snow started falling from the clouds, as the shape in front of them straightened his back.

“So I thought I would find you here,” a chuckle roamed through the air around them, “but I did not think North would be really this cold, ugh,” a whine followed, and a halo of blond hair came into view.

“Sehun?” Jongdae whispered, his voice trembling.

“Hello, Dea,” the younger smiled, his face bright, eyes shining, and there were no bloody marks staining his body.

“Sehun-ah!” Jongdae’s eyes watered, and stepping from behind Minseok he quickly brought the younger boy in a hug, letting a few tears run down his cheeks, “but you were dead. I saw you die. I buried you with my own hands. I had your blood on my hands, Sehun… and yet, you are alive. How?!”

“I do not know, Jongdae, I have no idea, I swear,” Sehun mumbled back, quietly, only for Jongdae to hear, “I was so scared when I woke up.”

“I am so sorry. It is all my fault. Please, forgive me.”

“Nothing is your fault.”

“Sehun,” Baekhyun whispered, smiling at the youngest.

Jongdae pulled back, and looked that the Guardian confused.

“Hello, Baekhyun,” Sehun smiled wide, “hello, Yixing”

“Yixing?!” Junmyeon gasped, “how do you know him?!”

“It is not a story for now, my love,” Yixing replied, looking up at the ship, “what is this about?”

“Oh,” Sehun grinned, “there are rumors in the wind that you are going on a quest. So here I am, offering a ride,” the youngest smiled.

“Rumors?” Baekhyun mumbled, “that is not good. If the wind knows about it, we have no time to waste. We need to be quick.”

“Let’s go,” Sehun offered, gesturing towards the ship.

Baekhyun was the first one to go on board, followed by Yixing and Junmyeon. When Jongdae was about to go up, he felt a tight grip on his elbow.

“Huh?” he looked at Minseok, “what is wrong?”

“Are you sure about this?” the older asked.

“Why would I not be?”

“Jongdae,” Minseok bit on his bottom lip, “I saw this ship before.”

The prince of the West frowned, “where?”

“In my death,” the Winter Boy whispered, and Jongdae’s eyes widened, as shivers ran down his spine.

~

A/N

What's up everyone?! How are you doing?! ohhh, it's been sooooo long since the last update, right? Do you hate me much?

Alright, real talk time: I know this story (and don't even tell me otherwise, I've actually reread a few chapters while writing this one to make everything match, and , how can you guys even read this, I really need to re-write it or sth... when I have time.. in 50 yeras), but even tho it does, I've decided not to end it here. I know I said this would be the last chapter bla bla bla and that I would write a sequeal blah blah blah, but to be honest, I feel like if I was to write a sequeal then... it would never actually happen. Plus, this story is too much of a loop right now to finish it anywhere. So I'm just gonna follow the plot and continue with it here, doing my best not to ruin it more. 

Anywayyyyy.... that's it for now.

Until the next update, dears!

Greetings from China ~ Give XiuChen love! Our babies are going so strong!