Woo-yeong dragged the last trunk of things towards the carriage, groaning. Father was busy making sure that Mother had packed all her things and Mother was nit-picking him for how he folded his clothes, while Seong-min, in her shroud of smug yellows and reds, stood off to the side, watching him.
“Do you need help, little brother?” She asked teasingly.
“Even if I say I do, I don’t think anyone here will assist me,” he responded, letting go of the trunk handle to stretch, “I don’t know why Father never brings servants out here. It would be helpful.”
While he said that, Woo-yeong knew why servants never came with them to the mansion at the Anpu Lakes. His mother came from the Myung lineage, a powerful monastic family blessed by Mother Moon with the gift of wolgwang, the ability to see the auras of those around her. Woo-yeong had inherited the gift, and wasn’t fully trained in controlling it, so servants weren’t brought on many of the royal family’s vacations to allow both him and Mother a chance to rest and enjoy themselves.
“I can put that in the carriage, mindeulle,” Father said from behind them, “You both get in with your mother and we’ll leave in a moment.”
Woo-yeong nodded, stepping away from the trunk and towards the carriage. It was a special one, which used magic to propel it. All someone had to do was sit in the front seat and channel their energy into it, and the wheels would turn. There was a wheel on the front, too, that allowed one to steer it. When Father drove the family somewhere, Mother was too scared to sit up that high, so Seong-min or Woo-yeong would get to sit with him. Because Woo-yeong had sat with Father the day before while taking the carriage to the beach, it was Seong-min’s turn to sit with him. Woo-yeong got into the enclosed cab of the carriage, where his mother was already situated. She had a book open on her lap, reading.
“Are you excited to go home, mindeulle?”
“I’m excited to see Haeun-a. I like spending time with her.”
“Good!” Mother looked up with a smile, leaning over to pinch his cheek, “Because in just 7 years…”
“Ah!” He leaned away, “I know, Mother! I know. Even Haeun-a likes to remind me of it. She calls me nameyon sometimes, even.”
“Well, you still have a couple years yet. You’re only 14. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Apparently Seong-min had been listening in on their conversation, as she had leaned down from the driver’s seat to look back at Woo-yeong through the window. She had startled him when she spoke, and he nearly fell out of his seat when he jumped in shock.
“Yes, yes, you’re still young,” Mother said, “But then you’ll be 15, then 16…”
“That’s how time works, yes,” Seong-min responded. Mother sighed.
“Seong-min, we’ve talked about your sharp tongue. Turn forward, now. We’ll be leaving soon.”
Behind him, Woo-yeong heard his sister sigh loudly, and he could see in his mind’s eye her aggressive eyeroll, irritated red rolling off her in waves. Woo-yeong rubbed at his eyes, a headache making itself known in the space behind his eyebrows.
“Are you feeling alright, mindeulle?” Mother asked, a shroud of worried purple settling around her shoulders, “I can ask your father for something for it, and your glasses.”
“I’m alright, Mother,” he replied, “I have my glasses with me.”
Digging in his small shoulder bag, Woo-yeong retrieved his glasses. They were silver, with thick black lenses that darkened everything around him. When he put them on, he immediately felt calmer. Mother reached over and patted his knee.
“It will be hours before we get to the Namu Estate. Close your eyes and get some rest, mindeulle.”
Woo-yeong nodded, settling into his seat. He heard Seong-min saying something quietly to their father as he got into his seat at the front, and the carriage slowly found momentum. He sighed and closed his eyes. A nap would be good, after all the work they’d had to do to pack the house back up to return to Byoel Miya, and Seong-min, ever the pretty soon-to-be crown princess, had not been made to help as much as Woo-Yeong. His arms were sore, so he stretched them out, taking up the entire seat on his side of the carriage. It was nice, though he couldn’t straighten his legs much. Mother laughed.
“Are you quite comfortable, Wooyeong-a?” She asked, chuckling to herself. He grinned.
“Very comfortable, Mother. The most comfortable.”
✧☆☾⭘☽☆✧
When Woo-yeong awoke, it was to the sound of a storm and the feeling of rocks underneath their wheels. He sat up straight, frightened for a moment.
“It’s alright, mindeulle,” Mother said, leaning over to pat his knee, “Just some rain. Father and Seong-min have put out the awning and won’t get wet.”
“Ah, alright.” He sighed and stretched a bit, “How far are we?”
“Not far, just a couple kilometers to the village, and then another two up to the estate. Less than an hour, at this rate.”
Woo-yeong nodded, pushing up his glasses to rub at his eyes. He sat up, pushing aside the curtains to look between Father and Seong-min at the road. The rain was coming down so thick they couldn't see more than a couple meters in front of themselves, and both his father and his sister were cloaked in lilac apprehension.
“I’m worried we’ll have to pull over,” Father said when he realized that Woo-yeong was leaning out to look at them, “This road is narrow.”
“I’d rather not stop, Father. It’s cold,” Seong-min responded. He nodded.
“Yes, but cold is better than us crashing, choseungdal.”
“I can agree with that,” Woo-yeong added, “Cold is better.”
Seong-min sighed, “Yes, yes, I suppose you’re right.”
“If you need a coat, you can borrow mine.” Woo-yeong removed his outer robe, “It’s plenty warm in the carriage.”
“Your coat’s too small for me, Woo-yeong.”
“Be grateful he’s offering it to you at all, choseungdal. Your aunty would never have offered me a thing when she was 14. Though, the feeling was quite mutual. I was a stubborn teenager.”
“Yeah, be grateful, older sister,” Woo-yeong taunted, “I’m nicer than Aunty was at my age.”
It seemed that Seong-min was about to say something, but she didn’t, taking a deep breath and swatting at his head. Woo-yeong laughed and ducked out of the window.
“That’s no way to speak to your sister, Wooyeong-a,” Mother chastised, “And don’t say such things about gongju. She is your family, after all.”
“Yes, yes, Mother, I know.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Mother was much stricter with him and Seong-min than Father was, even when they were talking about his family!
The carriage was silent for a bit, Woo-yeong listening to the sound of the rain on the top of the carriage as his mother returned to reading her book. It was quite nice, even with the rumble of the rocks on the path below them.
There was a sudden jolt, as they sat there, and Woo-yeong heard Seong-min yelp behind him. He leaned out the carriage window once again.
“Sorry, children. There was a carriage passing us on the path and I didn’t see them,” Father assured the both of them, reaching to pat Woo-yeong’s head, “But it’s alright now. They’ve passed us.”
Woo-yeong didn’t like the marked difference between the words his father said, and the fog of colors that had settled around his shoulders. The lilac had become a stark violet, so bright and intense that it would be impossible to recreate in nature. Woo-yeong moved back into his seat, closing the window and shutting his eyes. He tried to keep his mind off of his father’s fear.
But now, every bump of a rock under their wheels felt like a threat, and Woo-yeong’s stomach flipped with anxiety. His mother looked up from her book.
“You’re nervous, mindeulle.”
Woo-yeong opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a yell. The carriage jerked violently to one side, the wall behind him cracked open. The sound of splintering wood was deafening. He was flung forward, landing heavily in his mother’s lap as she smashed into the back wall of the cab. There was another scream, indistinct yelling. The crunch of bones echoed in his ears. His heart raced. His body felt like it was tearing itself apart. He felt a soft dripping on his cheek. Was it rain, or tears? When had they gone outside? A cacophony of violent noise filled his ears. His mother was screaming. The world blurred, slipping sideways and away into inky blackness.
✧☆☾⭘☽☆✧
Woo-yeong wasn’t sure where he was when he awoke. He knew he was in a bed, but his vision was blurry, and his body ached. He groaned slightly, attempting to move. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, easily pushing him down.
“Lay down, Wooyeong-seonbae,” someone said, and it took Woo-yeong a moment to process whose voice it was.
“Haeun-a?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
He heard her sigh, sniffling a bit, “Do you not remember anything? You hit your head, and uhm… Your injuries were pretty bad, Wooyeong-seonbae. Jeoha…”
“What about Father?” He attempted to sit up again, but a sharp pain exploded in his wrist, forcing him to fall back onto the bed. Ha-eun hiccuped. She was crying.
“Jeoha… He died when the carriage hit you. Him and the other driver were killed immediately… wangseja-mama… The doctors are still with her. Jungjeon was protected from the worst of the damage because you fell on top of her.”
Woo-yeong was quiet for a long moment, the weight of Ha-eun’s words settling in his foggy mind. His father…
“Are you sure?”
“Of what?”
“Father. Are you sure that he died? That doesn’t seem right.”
“Wooyeong-seonbae…” Ha-eun sighed, “The doctors tried, but he was already in the Spirit Realm by the time they arrived. I’m sorry.”
“And my older sister?”
“The doctors are keeping Mother and Father informed of everything. I will ask them next time they come to check on you. And jungjeon is resting in the guest chambers. She was injured, and Mother said she has refused everyone since she was informed of jeoha.”
Woo-yeong nodded silently. Though they, too, had been arranged, like he and Ha-eun were arranged, he had always idolized the relationship between his parents. They seemed to have a deep respect for each other, and they loved each other very much. Father often referred to Mother as his naui banjjog, his other half. His soulmate.
“She did ask to see you when you awoke, though,” Ha-eun continued, “Are you alright to see her?”
“She can come, but I can’t see,” Woo-yeong replied, “My vision is quite blurry.”
“You hit your head badly. The doctors said it’s possible you’ll have vision difficulties for a while.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing.”
That made Ha-eun laugh, and Woo-yeong smiled. She caught her breath, patting his shoulder gently.
“Maybe it is, Wooyeong-seonbae,” she paused, “Would you like some food or anything? You’ve been asleep for nearly a full day since the accident.”
“A full day?”
“Yes. You were delirious when the doctors found you, but you were sedated so they could treat your injuries without resistance. That took multiple hours, and then they brought you here.”
He paused, “What were my injuries?”
“They had to set your arms, which were both broken, and your jaw has a splint. They uhm…” Ha-eun was suddenly quiet, “Your leg was too badly broken.”
“My leg?”
When Ha-eun didn’t say anything, Woo-yeong decided to move his legs to see if he could feel them. His right leg felt sore and stiff, but otherwise fine. But his left leg…
“I can’t feel my foot.”
“I’m sorry, Wooyeong-seonbae. I promise that they did try their best.”
“They…” It took a moment for him to comprehend her meaning, “Amputation?”
“...Yes. Above the knee. Many of your bones were broken, but you landed mostly on your left leg when the carriage rolled over. It got the worst of the damage.”
They were both quiet for a long while, Woo-yeong taking the time to process everything that he’d just heard. He suddenly felt cold, distant. He felt the way a young child feels when they scrape their knee, as if the world was crashing down around him. He took a deep breath, swallowing his tears.
“Could you ask if Mother can come here? I would like to see her.”
Ha-eun hummed in understanding, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Woo-yeong’s forehead. He saw the blur of her white hair as she got up from his bedside, walking to the door. There was quiet talking, and the sound of a door sliding open, and then closing again. He heard Ha-eun return to his bedside.
“A servant is going to ask jungjeon if she’ll come here. It will be a couple of minutes.”
“Alright.”
They were both quiet again, Ha-eun’s hand resting on top of Woo-yeong’s. He realized, now, that his arm was in a cast. Both were, actually, and his one remaining leg was as well. He sighed, shifting to be more comfortable. Ha-eun ran her hand over his knuckles.
“Would you like water or food?” She asked quietly.
“Could I have some water?” Woo-yeong responded, “I am a bit thirsty.”
“One moment.”
Ha-eun got up, disappearing from the bedside. She returned after a moment, and Woo-yeong felt the press of a cup against his lips. The water was cool and sweet against his throat, which was a bit raw and sore. He sighed.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The silence descended over them again. It was comfortable, but still unusual. Both Ha-eun and Woo-yeong were extremely talkative, and spent much of their time together poking fun at each other. But in this situation, it felt like there was nothing to say. He sighed, moving on his cot so he was closer to her.
“Be careful!” Ha-eun cried out, putting her hands on him to keep him from moving too much, “The doctors said that you shouldn’t move too much, or you’ll open your stitches.”
Woo-yeong nodded, staying silent. He took a deep breath. His chest hurt, and seemed constricted for some reason. It was likely that he was wrapped in bandages from head to toe.
There was the sound of a door sliding open, and Ha-eun moved at the corner of Woo-yeong’s field of vision, standing up. Her blurred form bent in half in a bow.
“Please sit here, jungjeon,” she said, moving out of the way. Another blurred form made its way into Woo-yeong’s view.
Woo-yeong and his sister did not often call their parents anything other than ‘Mother’ and ‘Father.’ While their parents didn’t mind being called something a bit more casual, the prince and princess had decided that, now they were both older, they should be a bit more polite to their parents. But here, lying in this bed, having barely survived the threat of death, all of Woo-yeong’s ideas about what was right and wrong as the prince of the largest kingdom in the Underdark fell away. A sob tore itself from his throat, scraped raw from the pain of his injuries.
“Eomma!” Woo-yeong cried out. His mother collapsed next to him, wrapping his bulky, bandaged body in her arms. She caressed his hair, kissed his tears away, and quietly comforted her young son as he sobbed into her shoulder.
“It’s alright, Wooyeong-a. You’re safe,” she mumbled to him, over and over. It sounded like she was crying too. Woo-yeong attempted to catch his breath, sniffling as his sobs turned to hiccups, and his hiccups turned to shaky rasps. She ran her fingers through his hair, like she had when he had gotten nightmares as a young child. And this felt like the worst of any nightmare.
“Eomma, my leg,” he said quietly. His mother’s head moved, likely a nod.
“I know. They told me. I had to give permission. I’m sorry.”
“And Papa…”
“Yes…” she hushed him, kissing his forehead, “I know.”
“Do you think Seongmin-seonbae will be alright?”
His mother was quiet for a long moment, “I’ve been praying to Mother Moon to spare her, but it’s in the hands of the doctors now.”
✧☆☾⭘☽☆✧
After he awoke, Woo-yeong refused to be separated from his mother. He clung to her like a baby, letting her run her fingers through with his hair as he faded in and out of sleep. However, some time during the second day of them being in the Namu mansion, she was called away. Seong-min wasn’t doing well. With his mother gone, Ha-eun returned to keep Woo-yeong company.
“Wangseja-mama isn’t doing well,” Ha-eun said quietly, “Her wounds are too deep.”
“Can we talk about something else?”
She took a deep breath, sighing, “Of course. What would you like to talk about?”
Woo-yeong thought for a moment, finally asking, “How has it been staying here? I know you don’t like to spend time with your parents.”
“It’s been alright,” she responded, “But I much prefer being at the palace.”
They were both quiet then, and Woo-yeong’s thoughts went to what it would be like to return to the palace. Of course, there would be a funeral for Father, and there would likely be a period of time where Woo-yeong himself was stuck in his chambers. Mother… Woo-yeong sighed. Mother would be different, when they returned home. She was already more quiet, less ready to say something funny to cheer Woo-yeong up. He hoped it wouldn’t be too long that she was like this, but he had seen how Grandmother had been after the death of Grandfather. She was never the same.
“What has Haneul been up to while you were at the palace?” Woo-yeong asked. He wished to rid his thoughts of the pain that would weave itself through the palace halls when they returned. Ha-eun sighed.
“He’s focused on his studies, of course. He pestered me the entire time I was here, but after yesterday he’s left me alone.”
“Does he not have friends?”
“He does. There’s one boy in his class at the academy who he’s close with. I think he’s a cousin of yours. Myung Jung-woo. His father is sei-kyoshi at Choseungdal Temple in Nirvana.”
Woo-yeong nodded. While his mother and her brother, Myung Ji-hun, were not close, he had met his uncle and younger cousins on occasion, usually at birthdays or during Moon Festivals. There were two of them, Myung Jung-woo, who was the same age as Ha-eun’s younger brother, and Myung Sang-hoon, who was a couple years younger than that. Woo-yeong had seen the younger of his two cousins more often, as he, too, possessed the ability to see wolgwang, meaning that his mother trained them both together, when Uncle was busy.
“I know of him. I know his younger brother better, though. He has the same power as me. Myung Jung-woo is a telepath, correct?”
“Yes, and he and Haneul-a love to use their powers to get into trouble. Little Sang-hoon follows them around like a duckling, though, and his older brother can be mean to him.”
“That’s how older siblings are supposed to be, I think.”
Now Woo-Yeong’s thoughts were on his sister again, and he sighed. Ha-eun reached over, brushing some hair off of his forehead.
“Everything alright in there, Wooyeong-seonbae?” She asked gently. There was a bit of teasing in her voice, but she mostly just sounded worried.
“I’m alright. Just… Seongmin-seonbae has to be alright. She has to be.” His hand clenched into a fist around the sheets, and he closed his eyes, “She has to be.”
“She will be,” Ha-eun responded, “The doctors are good. They’ll make sure she’s alright.”
She put her arms around him, and the two hugged as best they could as Woo-yeong began to cry. The entirety of his time in the Namu Estate since the accident seemed to come into clarity, then, and he realized just how horrible everything really was. The fact that his father was dead had long since settled for him, but he could not bear the thought that his sister, too, was dying, and there was a chance that she would not be returning with them to Byeol Miya. He sobbed into Ha-eun’s shoulder, and she ran her fingers through his hair, letting him cry.
✧☆☾⭘☽☆✧
Mother had intended to be the one to tell Woo-yeong the news, but she was far too weak to return to his bedside by the time that everything came to its conclusion. Instead, it was Namu Jeong-eun who came and informed her daughter of what had happened, and then instructed Ha-eun to pass the information onto Woo-yeong. It was a plan with some tact, at least. Woo-yeong was not by any means close to his betrothed’s family, but neither was she.
Lying in his bed, Woo-yeong could hear Ha-eun on the other side of the bedroom, talking to her mother. He still couldn’t see very well, and thus he had his eyes closed. It would be too much of a headache to look over and try to focus on the forms of the two people on the other side of the darkened bedroom. So he waited.
He could hear Ha-eun crying quietly, and he already knew something was wrong. While Namu-hubae had not said why she needed to speak with Ha-eun when she’d entered the room, there were a few things which Woo-yeong could guess were the issue. When he realized that Ha-eun was crying, that list grew ever smaller.
“His mother would tell him, but she’s barely in a state to speak, much less about this,” he overheard Namu-hubae say. Ha-eun made a noise in some sort of agreement, and Woo-yeong could hear her footsteps grow closer to his bed.
“Wooyeong-seonbae,” she said quietly, her voice wet and rough from crying, “Are you awake still?”
“Yes. I am,” he responded, opening his eyes. His voice was just as quiet. With the mention of his mother, he could now anticipate what news Ha-eun was going to inform him of. He tensed slightly, as if the information was a slap to his face. But he knew it was more than that.
“It’s my sister, isn’t it?” He whispered, and Ha-eun nodded.
“I’m sorry, Wooyeong-seonbae. They tried.”
Woo-yeong had spent so much of the past three days crying, so it startled him slightly to find that he felt nothing, hearing that his older sister had died. He felt lifeless himself, staring up at the ceiling. He took a couple deep breaths, yet he did not cry.
“Are you alright?” He asked Ha-eun, “You’re crying.”
“Of course I’m crying. Why aren’t you?” She fired back. She sounded irritated. This was more like their usual banter, yet not what it was usually like at all.
“I don’t know.”
“You…” Ha-eun sighed, sitting down heavily on the chair next to the bed. She ran her fingers over the knuckles of Woo-yeong’s hand, and he flipped his arm over, threading their fingers together. They were both quiet for a long while, Ha-eun sniffling and wiping at her face with her sleeve while Woo-yeong continued to stare at the ceiling, feeling nothing.