[ GATES ]

Cold solid floor. He shivered and blinked his eyes a couple of times. He tried to focus on his surroundings but it didn't matter how many times he blinked, a deep darkness was all he could see. His hands pushed on the rough ground as he tried to stand up but as he did so a stinging pain froze him, making him groan and fall back down.

What the fuck has happened? Where am I?

It took him a while to recollect it all but when he did panic took over.

He pushed himself up despite the twinge of pain took his breath away, but it didn't matter. He found a wall, hands running through it in search of a door, of a window, anything that could help him out of there. He had to find him. He had to know he was safe.

It's all my fault! If something happens to him...

He stopped his thoughts there because the stab to his heart was enough to make him want to collapse to the floor once again and cry his eyes out until he died. Dehydrated, of hunger, of pain... It didn't matter, let it come! If something happened to San death would be the best outcome. But in that moment he couldn't stop, he couldn't give up. Something inside of him pushed him forward on shaky legs. San was still alive, he could feel it. And he wouldn't give up until he had tried all he could to save him.

He almost lost his balance as the hand he had pushed against the wall sank into nothing.

A corridor?

He tried to find the wall behind the corner but as he did so his elbow got stuck into metallic bars and that's when he realized.

The dungeons.

It struck him all at once. He had never been in the undergrounds of the castle but he knew that nobody could escape from there, it didn't matter how much one tried. The only way out was to the gallows or inside a coffin. He held himself up, hands grabbing the cold bars of his cell as he tried to bring into focus what was before him. More darkness, but not as thick. He wasn't sure but he thought he could see the outline of a staircase and the shadows dispersed a bit more as his eyes looked higher.

There must be a door up there.

He moved a step further, his hands trying to find the lock, if he could tamper with it maybe he had a chance to...

He was right: the staircase in front of his cell was the first thing he noticed when a hidden door at the end of it opened up letting the light in. The second thing he noticed were the rats, the floor of the dungeon was covered in them and they fled immediately as they realized the darkness didn't hide them anymore. One sneaked in between of Wooyoung's legs, fleeing out of the cell to a more protected space and the young king couldn't help but shiver when the thick fur brushed against his naked ankles.

"Darling! You're up!" the voice of the king echoed through the barren walls, mischievous and obnoxious.

Wooyoung didn't answer but he held his gaze, chin up, back straight, posture elegant. Just like his mother had taught him. Just like the first time he had met him, only this time his eyes didn't stayed down but stared at the man walking to his direction, full of despite and hatred.

"Oh don't give me that look, you know you deserved it" that annoyed little smile that always appeared on his lips showed up once again and Wooyoung wished he could rip it off, if he only was stronger...

"Open up" his tone serious again as he ordered to the guard walking behind him.

The clinging of the keys drowned out every other noise, their silhouette kept dancing on the walls of Wooyoung's cell as the candle that the guard held in his other hand kept swinging with his every movement. A metallic click was heard and then the gate was opening in a loud squeaking.

"So I woke up this morning and I felt generous enough to come here and give you one more chance" the king stated as he walked in, the gate closed again at his back, "What do you say, are you ready to finally behave and stand by my side or shall we keep going the old way?"

"What's the old way?" Wooyoung hissed in a raspy voice.

"You know, the usual: he gets executed for high treason, his head rolls, yours follows suit"

Wooyoung felt a shiver run down his spine but he did his best to stay composed and not show his fear, "Let San go and I'll accept your deal" he stated firmly.

The king's laughter exploded so unexpectedly and so loud that it scared Wooyoung, as he took a wobbly step back.

"Oh my sweet angel, you really are not in the position to negotiate, don't you think?" he took a step forward, a hand finding Wooyoung's cheek and caressing it, "I came with an offer to save your head, not his. Whatever you say or do he's doomed"

"Then I'd rather die with him" Wooyoung slapped the king's hand away and took another step back, "Where is he?"

"Oh my gods, you really do love him" he laughed again, so much he had to dry a tear from the corner of his eye, "I really thought you were smarter than this, Wooyoung. I didn't think you would let yourself be tricked by a filthy wolf"

"You're the filthy one!" he yelled with all the voice he could find in his lungs, "He's the best man I've ever met and you won't be at his level even if you try for a thousand–"

A hand slapped him in the face and silenced him, he stumbled back, body hitting the wall that he grabbed with all his might to not fall. He wouldn't fall in front of him.

"Tsk– I come to offer you a way out and you just spit on my face. You deserve no pity, Wooyoung" he stepped closer and lowered, his face standing so close to the boy that he could smell his lunch in his breath, "You prefer to die with him? Great! I have no objections. I will kill him and you will watch and then, believe me darling, it will be a pleasure for me to cut off your ungrateful head too!" he stood straight again and turned, "Open up!"

The gate of his cell opened and closed in the blink of an eye and only when the king was halfway through the stairs Wooyoung recollected himself.

"Kill us! Do it! And we will come back to haunt your days until you die, you disgusting piece of shit! I hate you! Monster! I fucking hate you!" he yelled with all the breath he still had in his lungs, but the door closed again, leaving him in complete darkness, "I hate you" he whispered, letting himself finally sink to the floor and cry his heart out.

When he woke up the second time it was to a noise. He blinked his eyes open and this time it didn't take him as much to understand where he was and not because his mind was more focused but because a light was on, the shimmering of a torch lightening the stairs once again. He realized that the sound he had heard came from the hidden door above his head closing and now he could hear whispers coming down and his way.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" someone whispered.

He knew that voice.

"Just let me carry him, it's too narrow for both of us to hold him up, come on"

"He's heavy, are you sure?"

He had no doubt at this point, he crawled to the bars, too weak to stand. His head was killing him and the bruise on his cheek hurt again, but he pushed himself to stay conscious.

The first thing he spotted was a back. The back of a guard walking backwards, holding the torch and looking up. The back of a guard he recognized immediately.

"Sangie–" he wanted to call his friend, to scream his name, but only a shaky whisper left his dry mouth, apparently his throat too was too tired to work properly.

But Yeosang heard him because he immediately turned, eyes searching the dark to lock on Wooyoung's silhouette. As soon as he spotted him he rushed so quickly in his direction that the light wavered.

"Hey!" the other guard protested but Yeosang ignored him throwing himself in front of Wooyoung.

"Woo!" he searched his face with his free hand, the fire of the torch was so close to him and so bright that it was burning Wooyoung's eyes who squished them close and turned slightly, but not enough to prevent Yeosang to clearly see him, "Oh my gods! What happened to your face?"

"Sangie, where's–" but he couldn't finish because the other guard spoke louder than him, calling their attention.

"You can't speak with the prisoner. Help me here, open up the cell. He's fucking heavy!" he grunted, hauling up better something on his back.

"I will be back" Yeosang whispered to Wooyoung before he turned and approached the other man to help him.

Wooyoung's eyes followed him tiredly but when the torch enlightened the heavy weight the guard was talking about he felt himself spring back to life. Heart pumping adrenaline through his veins as he found the strength to gasp and talk again.

"San-ah!" he called but the body didn't move, is he... "Sanie, can you hear me? San-ah!" he kept screaming, panicking. He can't be dead...

"Shut your mouth, you whore! He has screamed enough for both, had to knock him down to bring him here, my head is fucking killing me!" the other guard had roared in his direction before turning to Yeosang who had finally opened the gate of a cell in front of Wooyoung's. The man let San fall on a piled-up heap of straw, and as he hit it a grunt left his lips.

He's alive, Wooyoung sighed but didn't dare to say more knowing he wouldn't receive any answer. But maybe... He searched Yeosang's eyes that just nodded in his direction before he walked to the stairs once again. His friend was his last hope and he really wished Yeosang would be back soon enough to help them.

The light left with the two men and Wooyoung found himself alone once again, there was just the darkness to keep him company. The darkness and the heavy breathing coming from a cell not so far from his.

The third time he woke up it happened because of a nightmare.

He was running in the darkness, scared he would crash against something or fall into a hidden hole. He wanted to slow down, but he couldn't because he knew that there were people chasing him, he could hear them. He kept running, lungs itching and asking for air, but he never stopped. Not until his foot hit something. Something that had rolled forward. Sometimes he had slowed down to pick up. The noises at his back had disappeared. He stopped. He lowered. Hands reaching the silhouette of what looked like a weird shaped ball. He picked it up and he immediately knew it wasn't a ball what he had found. He immediately knew what it was but in the darkness he forbid himself to believe it. And yet he knew it. He knew it even before a flashing light enlightened his surroundings. He knew it. But only when San's lifeless eyes stared into his he truly realized. The skin was cold. Rotten. Warms coming out of his open mouth, out from behind his fogged eyes. He screamed, San's head falling from his hands once again. He kept screaming until he woke up.

A cold sweat run down his back, the dirty night dress he was still wearing glued to his skin in an uncomfortable way. He shivered looking for the thin piece of fabric they had left behind as a blanket, useless to shield him from the cold winter weather, useless when he felt his whole being shake uncontrollably. He was panting, teeth chattering and a constant ring in his ear blocked any other noise that could reach him. He had probably screamed because his throat was hurting, dry and thirsty, begging for some water.

"–at you?"

"–oung-ah!"

"–ou hear me?"

It was a voice. The ringing inside of his head had faded a bit and now he could hear something. Far...

"Wooyoung-ah?"

Maybe not so far...

"Huh?" he tried to reply, his throat hurting from that simple noise he made.

"Oh my gods, it really is you! Where are you? Are you okay? I heard you scream"

"San?" he was confused.

"Yeah baby, it's me"

It was just a dream. He felt more tears gathering at the corner of his eyes for the relief. He was alive.

"Are you okay?" Wooyoung asked instead. Throat burning, teeth still chattering but he needed to hear that voice again.

"I-I'm okay" it took him a while to stuttered those few words out.

He's lying.

"We will find a way" Wooyoung pushed himself to the edge of his cell, closer, as much as he could, to San, "Yeosang said he will be back, he will help us, we can still make it–" a dry cough broke his sentence leaving him shaking even more, his head was spinning but he forced himself to do another little movement: his hand extended outwards, trying to reach for something he already knew to be too far away. But maybe if San reached out for him too, he–

"They're gonna kill us" it didn't sound like a question and Wooyoung felt his hand drop. He knew it. They had no chances of getting out of there alive and there was no reason to keep lying to each other. But still that silly hope persisted inside Wooyoung's heart.

"Sanie, we will find a way, we always did"

"I'm sorry, Woo..." he heard San move, the clinging of something on the metal. He probably had moved closer to the bars too, "If I knew it was gonna end like this I would have never given up on you. I just wanted to protect you–" San's voice broke down.

"You did much more than this, baby..." and Wooyoung felt like he couldn't stop his tears either, "You have taught me what love means, you gave me a reason to be happy" because it was the truth.

Even if it was over for them. Even if they didn't have many days left. If you asked Wooyoung to go back and change his fate he wouldn't if it meant he couldn't be with San. That love was worth it and Wooyoung knew that something so intense couldn't be stopped. Not even by death.

"You were wrong" he heard San sniff and chuckle.

"About what?"

"In the end we are just like Guinevere and Lancelot. It's funny!" the bitter laughter resounded through the walls and Wooyoung couldn't help but chuckle along.

"They will write books about us. We will be famous!"

"Yeah–" another loud cough shook him, that noise signaling the end of their conversation.

What else was there to say after all? What was the point in waisting the last days they had together crying and despairing about something they couldn't change?

Two times a day a guard brought them supper. It wasn't good. It tasted like moldy paper but Wooyoung always finished his plate and he knew San was doing the same. He tried to eat hoping he would feel better but his skin kept burning, his body kept shivering with cold sweat and that awful cough didn't let him rest, not even when he tried to sleep. He felt every day weaker it didn't matter how much he tried, his head was full of cotton, sometimes replaces by needles when he couldn't sleep properly and it happened most of the times. But he never let himself complain, he never let himself really lose hope.

Two times a day a guard brought them supper and every time Wooyoung hoped to see Yeosang's face. He hoped for things he knew to be impossible. He hoped and suffered in silence every time he was deluded, but he never told San.

Wooyoung was sick, but he never complained and as days passed he found his only relief in San's presence. They talked a lot, or at least for as long as they could. They talked until Wooyoung felt too weak to even keep his eyes open, unable to formulate anything that had sense. They talked about them, remembering the good times, the sweetest moments but also those that hurt them. They retraced all their story and realized that the love they shared had always been sincere, unique and irreplaceable. They kept talking until their eyes felt too heavy and they tried to sleep. And if the light could breach inside of the dungeons, one could find two boys sleeping in their cells one in front of the other. Their arms extended out of the cold metallic bars and hands so close but yet unable to grab each other.

The fourth time he woke up it was to a noise. Again. But this time it didn't sound like the soft opening and closing of a door. No. What woke him up felt more like a rumble that had him sitting up on his spot with a gasp and his head spinning.

"The fuck was that?" he heard San sleepy voice saying out loud.

Wooyoung was about to reply but another blast made him jump again and this time it didn't stop. Screaming of voices just above his head could be heard. Voices of scared people running away from something but also the voices of soldiers giving orders.

"San, what's goin–"

BANG!

The door cracked open and the sudden light breached the darkness of the dungeons taking along a thunderous roar of voices.

"Down you go!" a voice Wooyoung had already heard but couldn't recognize said from above.

It didn't take long before two men walked down the stairs, the first one was the guard Wooyoung had seen many and many times. The one that brought San down, the one that gave them their meals. The second thing he noticed was the blade of a sword pressed against the man's back and pushing him forward. And then a hand, an arm, a shoulder, a blond head...

"Mingi!" San had jumped on his feet holding the bars in his hands with such strength that his knuckles had turned white.

Wooyoung had tried to do the same but his body felt too weak and as he stood for a few seconds he felt the need to sit back down, legs shaking, breath short, head spinning.

"What the fuck is going on?" San had said again and Mingi had pushed the guard to his direction, forcing him to open up his cage.

"Did you really think I would let you rotten in here?"

The cage lock clicked and the sound of someone spitting followed suit: "The king will have your head too, Song Mingi" the guard had hissed in his direction but his bravery was quickly forgotten when the blade moved from his back to his throat.

"Yeah? A shame you won't be able to witness it" and without waiting for an answer he slit his throat open.

Blood spilled out of the cut as the man made a last gagging sound before slumping lifeless to Mingi and San's feet. Wooyoung gasped in horror before that view and in that same moment Mingi realized San wasn't the only prisoner of the dungeons.

"Oh! Didn't expect my uncle to lock his little bird in such a nasty cage. San-ah we should hurry before–"

"Not without him!" San was already fidgeting with the corpse's belt trying to take the keys out of it.

It didn't take long before he jumped to his feet and ran to Wooyoung's gate, trying to find the right key to unlock it.

"San-ah! For fuck sake!" Mingi's hand flew to San's shoulder trying to pull him back, "We don't have time! Leave him! If you ended up in this mess it's all his fault"

"Don't you dare!" San turned on his feet almost growling at Mingi, "Would you leave your brother if you were in my place?"

Mingi's face turned darker and his hand slipped away from San's shoulder, "Two minutes" he turned and walked to the stairs, "Make it fast!"

San went back to his previous task and even if his face was serious and calm Wooyoung could see how his fingers shook around the keys as he tried one after the other. When they finally heard the click of the joint they looked at each other, new hope clear in their eyes.

San rushed to his direction and pulled him up into the tightest hug, kissing his face, his head, his lips in a delirious sequence that saw Wooyoung just melt in it, arms locked around San's neck for dear life as he tried to stand on his shaky weak legs.

"San–" he tried to say, but San shushed him with another kiss.

"We don't have time now, let's go, we gotta run" he tried to pull Wooyoung out of the cage with him but when his hands left him the boy could take just a few unstable steps before he fell to the ground with a grunt.

He hadn't had real food for way too long and his body was finally showing him the consequences of that. He tried to stand up but his head was spinning so much that he couldn't even focus on San's face worriedly looking at him.

"I'm too weak" he whispered unsure if his voice had actually come out of his mouth, breath short, shirt drenched in cold sweat that made him shiver, it was hard to speak even harder to listen to what San was saying, "Mingi is right, you should leave me here, I'm just a burden, I will–"

"Not a chance!" and without waiting any further he turned to carry the boy on his back.

"San-ah, I will only slow you down, please!" he begged, tears running down his face as he looked at San walking up the endless staircase, breath short after the first few steps, "I beg you! Put me down, you are weak too. They will kill you and everything will be useless, San-ah!"

"I don't care, I'm not leaving without you! Okay?" he yelled back, legs shaking but he kept going.

"Please, stop!" Wooyoung sobbed, nails sinking into San's shoulders.

They had screamed so much that Mingi arrived running to their direction, "Do you have a fucking death wish? What are you doing?"

"He can't walk" San replied, "Mingi, I can't leave him here, I just can't" his lower lip quivered as he stared into Mingi's eyes.

"Ooooh come on!" Mingi huffed pissed, but immediately turned and bent slightly, "Go ahead I'll take him, here boy" Mingi patted Wooyoung's thigh showing him his back to climb on, "I'll carry you since your boyfriend is such a pussy"

"Fuck off, Min!" San hissed starting walking once again when he had passed Wooyoung to his friend.

"No, you fuck off! I swear to the gods, if we end up dead I'm gonna kill you Choi San!" he groaned speeding up his pace and reaching the door at the end of the stairs.

The door was open and the humid corridor behind it looked unexpectedly quiet. The roars of the battle could be heard from far away on the higher levels but neither Mingi nor San seemed to worry about it as they exited the dungeons after making sure nobody saw them. San led the way after he picked up a sword abandoned on the floor and Mingi followed, one hand holding up Wooyoung's body, still heavily breathing on his back, the other closed around his sword's hilt. The first corner looked safe, and so did the second, but as they turned around the third three men charged in their direction.

"Fuck!" San growled, "Stay behind and don't let them take Wooyoung, you heard me?"

"You're not giving me orders!" Mingi replied but still he took a step back, sword up, but staying behind San ready to protect Wooyoung.

When San moved Wooyoung looked at him through half lidded eyes, his head kept spinning and the light felt almost blinding but still he could see how gracefully San kept repelling the attacks of the three men, striking his hits when he found an exposed side. To Wooyoung's eyes he looked fast and strong, managing to keep at bay three even after being held prisoner for days, but suddenly Mingi spoke and Wooyoung's heart sunk.

"He's slow, he won't last much longer..." the implications of that were left hovering between them.

"Put me down" he whispered to Mingi's ear, "I beg you"

"He will kill me if I do" he said but Wooyoung had learned to read a person voice and he knew Mingi was hesitant.

"He will die if you don't. I'm barely alive myself, I don't even know if I'll manage to escape this castle. Upstairs there's a battle going on and you won't make it without the help of each other"

And just as he finished to speak he noticed the sword of one of the soldiers of Hala brush against San's arm, blood spilling from the cut but it looked shallow. San turned just in time and unlike that of the guard his sword caught him full in the side of his neck. The men's body fell to the ground but San groaned and stepped back, out of breath and tired, barely able to defend himself from the hits of the two still standing soldiers.

"Can you stand?" Mingi's voice called Wooyoung back.

"Y-yes" he stammered not sure if he actually could but he was willing to try.

"Okay" Mingi reached the wall where a thick column was, "You hide behind it and don't move a muscle, we will come back to take you, okay? I promise"

Wooyoung nodded leaving Mingi's back and supporting his weight on the dusty wall, "Go!" he ordered, not wanting San to fight alone a second longer.

He tried to look at the scene but his sight was blurry and more than once he doubted what he was seeing: figures confounding with each other, shapes shifting and sometimes the guards looked incredibly alike to the king. His surroundings were fogged too and his head was spinning like crazy. He tried to close his eyes but the feeling only worsened making him dizzy. He felt his knees hit the ground and as he tried to stand up again, fingers looking for the creeks on the wall, a dark shadow hovered over him making him fall back. He screamed trying to crawl away but the creature stopped him and put him on his feet, holding him there.

"Let me go–" he tried to scream, to call San and Mingi but his voice broke into unstoppable coughs that left him breathless. Only a scared gasp could escaped his mouth.

"Yah! Boy, it's me!" Mingi shook him by the shoulders and only then Wooyoung recognized him, slumping with a sight and San's name between his lips, "San, he's burning" Mingi held Wooyoung between his arms turning to face his friend with worried eyes.

"Woo, baby, can you hear me?" San whispered brushing the hair away from Wooyoung's face drenched in sweat.

"Sanie– you– good?" Wooyoung's breath was slow and heavy, eyes unable to focus, but still he took his hand to overlap that of San on his forehead.

"I am, it's just a scratch" he looked at Mingi, "I will carry him, I can do it. You're stronger then me, I trust your sword more than mine"

"No–" Wooyoung mumbled but they didn't hear him.

"I need you to fight as well, San-ah! There will be more than three men up there, I can't take them all by myself, I need–"

"No!" and this time they looked at him, "Leave me" he breathed out.

And this time San hesitated. Mingi stayed silent knowing fully well it wasn't his decision to take.

Heavy second passed. Seconds that felt like hours to Wooyoung's heart.

"Mingi–" San finally spoke, "You go ahead, I'm staying"

"What? No!" he protested laying Wooyoung down against the wall, "I risked my life, mine and that of my soldiers to save your ass. Did you know half of Hala's army has mutinied when they heard your death sentence? They left their king for you, they opened the gates, they're fighting for you, don't make it all useless"

Wooyoung listened to his words too weak to reply but agreeing to every word Mingi said, but San kept shaking his head.

"I can't. If I leave now and he dies what–" his voice broke, a hand moved to cover his mouth to prevent more sobs to leave it.

"Sanie–" even if his voice was just a whisper San looked at him, eyes full of tears, and he kneeled to take his hand, "He won't kill me–" it was so hard to speak but luckily San didn't interrupt him, "He said– He wants to see me suffering– He won't kill me– Before he kills you"

San's eyes sparkled with a new light, rage, hatred, pain, guilt... "You're sick, I can't leave you here like this!"

Wooyoung was about to answer but the clinging of an armor broke the silence and San stood up straight once again, hand on his sword, ready to kill.

"I knew I would find you here" Yeosang said out of breath as he looked at San and then at Mingi that hadn't lowered his sword, "I'm a friend"

"Sangie–" Wooyoung whispered and in a second the boy was next to him, checking his pulse and temperature.

"San, he needs a healer right now. He won't survive the night if you take him with you" he stated.

"I fucking told you!" Mingi almost screamed exasperated but San didn't speak, eyes moving from Wooyoung to Yeosang, "We gotta run now, San!"

"Just fucking give me a second, okay?" San yelled back furiously

"We don't have a goddamn second–"

"Listen to me!" Yeosang's voice resounded louder then theirs, stealing their attention, "San, if you really care about him you need to leave now. Leave him with me, you can't carry him in these conditions"

"Yeosang you don't understand, I–"

"I do understand, San-ah! I care about you, I want to help but if you want to leave and survive you have to do it now! I will protect him, but you need to trust me" he looked firm and Wooyoung internally thanked him for being by his side even after all that had happened.

"You knew–" San whispered, "You knew, I could tell since the first second you looked at us that day in the garden. You knew about us and you didn't say a word. I do trust you" he admitted, one hand on Yeosang's shoulder.

"Then go before it's too late"

San kneeled next to them one more time, lips brushing against Wooyoung's forehead before they lowered to the corner of his mouth. Wooyoung closed his eyes trying to imprint the feeling of San kisses on his skin.

"I will come back to you, I promise" he whispered.

Wooyoung looked at him and nodded in an imperceptible movement. A moment, one last glance, and San hand was gone, his lips so far away, noise of footsteps running away. He felt Yeosang arms securing his weight and picking him up and Wooyoung just let his face sink in the crook of his neck trying his best to muffle the sobs for his broken heart.

•

It felt like being back on the battlefield. The quantity of blood he had on his clothes was the same, only that time it belonged to men that had his same colors.

"We have horses and carriages waiting for us, it's not far, we just have to exit the main gate, there's a breach in the south walls, from there we can reach the forest, they're waiting for us on the southern end" Mingi explained as they ran to the main gate.

That passage. San knew it well, but he'd never expected to walk through it with someone that wasn't Wooyoung.

He nodded, following his friend down the next corridor, "We're almost there–" he said, breath short, heart beating fast.

They turned the last corner and they stopped on their tracks. San felt his legs shake when he found himself facing all the soldiers crowded before the main gate. He heard Mingi gasp as he raised his sword with uncertainty.

"San-ah–" he had whispered at his side, facing forward, heavily breathing as he tried to formulate his sentence, "They're too many, I–" but words got stuck in his throat, fear taking over.

San wanted to reply, he wanted to say something encouraging, but his hands were shaking too, he was tired and hungry and moreover he knew he wouldn't be able to beat all of them even if he was at his best. Mingi and him were strong but the soldiers standing in front of them were no less. He knew them. He had seen them on the battlefield, many faces he could recognize were staring at him, waiting for his next move. They looked like they were waiting but weirdly their swords weren't up. And then he heard it, coming from his right, hidden in the dark he came out stepping forward and standing in front of his men.

"You look terrible" he stated, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes fixed on San's sword still pointing in his direction.

"Father?" San stood there, still and unable to move.

"You broke your oath" he said again, "You betrayed your king" his voice was calm, reporting facts with an indifference that left San petrified, "You pointed your sword against Hala and now you're doing the same with me" he stepped forward, a hand reaching the blade and pushing it down with calm, knowing fully well that San wouldn't react.

"Father, I–" he struggled to find the words, but the man silenced him again, the hand moving from the blade to San's shoulder.

"I said I was proud of you, do you think I must feel differently now? What you did, do you think I need to be ashamed of you?"

He didn't sound rhetorical. San looked at him, deeply in the eyes, and he found only sincere curiosity, like he really wanted to know the reasons why San did what he did.

"I love him" it came out of his mouth almost unwillingly, "I swore I would protect him with my life and I won't break my word now, even if the menace to his safety is Hala. I haven't broken my oath" he paused, checking his father's face, but it stayed unreadable, "I don't know how you should feel about it, but I can tell you that I will never feel ashamed or regretful when all I did was out of love" and with that he stepped back, sword raising once again, "I'm ready to die here if that's what fate has written for me, but I won't go without a fight"

He knew he wouldn't win, but he had promised Wooyoung he would come back and if he couldn't he'd rather die for him than giving up.

He watched every movement in slow-motion: how his father's head lowered, how his hand moved to his sword, how he looked up at San once again, how he...

Smiled.

"There's no reason for me to stop being proud of you then" he stated before he turned to face his soldiers and signaled them to move and form a gap to let San and Mingi go, "Go! We will buy you time"

San couldn't move a muscle, he felt like his body had frozen as he kept staring at his father mouth agape, until Mingi's shoulder shoved him slightly.

"You're letting us go?" he asked incredulous.

"Did they damage your brain during your imprisonment? I just said it: go!"

And he couldn't help it: he rushed forward and he found himself hugging his father like he hadn't in years.

"Come with us" he whispered when he felt his father arms close briefly around him to reciprocate the hug.

"We will, but what's important is that you and Mingi get there safely first. The king will be here soon with the rest of his army, you'd better rush" he gave San's shoulder one last pat, "I will see you at the Song's castle, go!" and with that he pushed him out, gate already lowering at their backs and the unmistakable sound of cluttering armors approaching fast.

Mingi's hand found his wrist pulling him away, running towards the passage he had talked about when the first screams of a battle were heard. They kept running, through the grass paths, through the oaks forest until the neighing of horses signaled them that they were safe.

•

His right ankle was bruising where the thick chain kept brushing on his soft skin. He moved under the thin blanket trying to reach for it and give it a light scratch.

"I told you not to touch it or it will get infected" Yeosang wasn't looking at him but somehow he always managed to understand Wooyoung's doings, "The healer will be here soon, show him that bruise too and he will put a bandage on it"

Wooyoung hummed still too weak to complain or try to protest when he knew it was a war he couldn't win.

He didn't know how long had passed. He had fainted shortly after having parted ways with San and when he woke up again everything was again silent and calm. The sun had raised and set innumerable times and yet he didn't dare say a word. He knew the guards or the healers wouldn't answer and even when he was left alone with Yeosang he was too scared to put his friend in dager, scared that someone might overhear their conversation, so he kept silent. He didn't know how Yeosang had managed to convince the king to keep him alive and, even more surprisingly, to help him recover from his illness, but there he was: being fed daily and surrounded by healers taking care of his weak body. The cold dungeon had been replaced with a still cold, but more comfortable room, his body wasn't lying on dry straw but on a mattress, thin and dirty, but still a lot better than his previous accomodation.

He was slowly recovering, his stomach seemed every day more willing to take solid food and keep it down. There were mornings when he woke up with a growling tummy and he knew it to be a good sign. When San would come he would be ready.

The healer arrived punctual as expected, three knocks on the door and a disgusted look on his face. It felt like Wooyoung could almost read his thoughts: it was clear he wasn't happy to be there, treating the wounds of someone who had betrayed his king and the kingdom, someone who didn't deserve to live, waisting his time and patience. He was still sentenced to death: Wooyoung had heard the man complaining with Yeosang and other guards at the end of his duty, asking why he was so often called to that room when the patient was irrevocably destined to die. But still he never got a real answer because all his interlocutors would say was that the king had thus commanded.

"Is there anything you can give me for this bruise?" Wooyoung found the strenght to ask when he noticed the healer packing, ready to leave. He lowered the blanket covering him showing the reddening scratch on his ankle, "Yeosang washed it as better as he could but I think it's getting infected"

The man looked at it briefly, "It is getting infected, but I fear I cannot help you" he opened his bassoon once again searching between the many little bottles, "It's mandrake ointment that you need but I'm afraid I dispose only of a small quantity" and as he said so he fished a green ampoul showing it to Wooyoung, "Here it is" he shook it couple of times before his eyes and then he placed it back inside his bag.

"What are you doing? Give it to him" Yeosang voice came from the man's back who turned to face the young soldier, "He's your king, it is your duty to–"

"I beg you to forgive me sir, but he's not. Not anymore. My duty is to make sure he eats and stays alive and I assure you that scratch won't do much worse than leave an ugly scar" the healer interrupted Yeosang glancing at Wooyoung with that annoyed expression he had grown so used to see on his face, "And even if he still was my king I wouldn't use it for him. The mandragora is a very rare root, it can cure infections and wounds of most kinds, its processing is so complicated that it takes months to have a good ointment to be ready. More over the main producers refuse to supply the castle, I thought you knew it. It's almost impossible to get the basic vegetables to our kitchens, how do you expect me to find a good root that–"

"Okay, I got it!" it was Yeosang turn to interrupt him and the healer just nodded in his direction, happy he understood.

He moved the bassoon on his shoulders ready to leave once again, but he stopped when Wooyoung called him again.

"I'm sorry sir, why the farmers refuse to supply the castle?" he hadn't left those walls in far too long to know what was happening outside.

He knew the situation he was facing wasn't the easiest but his heart skipped a beat when he heard the healer's words and he couldn't help but worry. A long time had passed since the destructive drought had struck the country: Wooyoung remembered the blunt faces, the bones peaking from under the ruined clothes. He remembered mothers crying over the bodies of their dead sons, too young and weak to survive the lack of food and water. He remembered the struggle, the sweat on his forehead falling to his eyebrows and before his eyes during the long journeys to reach the farthest towns who might need food, water and medicines. He remembered the hunger and the sacrifice everyone had to face to help who needed it the most. What if all that was back? What if all his efforts had been useless? He wasn't able to help them. He had lost his crown and with it the little privileges he really cared about. His heart kept beating fast in his chest as he waited for the healer's words.

"I guess we can graciously say it is all your fault, oh great king!" he scoffed approaching Wooyoung's bed once again, Yeosang taking a step forward too.

"M-my fault?" Wooyoung stammered surprised. How could it be his fault if he hadn't left the castle in so long?

"It seems like not everyone is smart enough to understand you are an ungrateful kid, who just used our king's kindness for your filthy needs. There are people that still belive you to be the generous, warm hearted king that saved their children. Not everyone is clever enough to recognize you're just a disgusting whore who–"

"Enough!" Yeosang's voice echoed low and scary, his sword flyig to the old man's throat menacingly sharp, so close to the wrinkled skin that the healer jumped back squicking in fear, "Out, before I decide you're better dead"

The man didn't need to being told twice and he immediately ran out of the thick wooden door, closing it at his back with a loud bang. Yeosang sat on the bed next to Wooyoung, sheathing his sword and taking his hand in his, fingers imperceptibly brushing against his knuckles.

"I'm sorry" he whispered before he raised his head to look at Wooyoung straight in the eyes, "What he said is not true, I mean... There are people that would agree with him but they can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Most of us is on your side Wooyoung, the people of Hala know who you are, they had more than a chance to see you, to get to know you, to witness how sweet and warm hearted you are. They won't leave you"

"They're refusing to supply the castle because of me?" Wooyoung couldn't believe his ears.

Yeosang nodded, "They are protesting. When the king annouced yours and San's death sentence everybody rose up. That's why he won't kill you: he's scared, he knows that his power is faltering and only a false step is needed for his end to come" he looked around, standing up and walking to the door listening carefully and making sure they were alone, when he came back to the bed his face was so serious that Wooyoung felt intimidated, "The king has received a letter" he stated.

"A letter?" Wooyoung couldn't understand, he struggled to connect the dots, still unable to belive so many people loved him.

"Your father..." Yeosang paused and Wooyoung gasped, "I don't know the details, I just overheard a conversation but it seems like Aurora threatened Hala. Your family asked for your freedom"

"Why? They will be in danger, my father's army is not–" he felt the blood freezing in his veins unable to finish his sentence.

"Is not that easy, Woo! Don't you see it? Half of Hala's army has left the castle with San, the king has lost his most poweful soldiers and those who he has left are unsure. The king has killed their commander, they don't trust him anymore" he whispered.

"He killed..." it felt like a hand had suddenly pierced his chest, fingers closing around his heart squeezing it in a mortal grip, "He killed San's f-father?"  his voice broke, not sure he wanted to hear the answer he knew he would receive.

Yeosang's eyes lowered as he nodded and Wooyoung couldn't stop the gasping sob that left his throat, he felt his head becoming incredibly heavy, his body contorting in a new pain, a guilt he had never felt before flowing through his veins, "Oh gods!" he sobbed buring his face in his hands.

"Woo, he was no fool. He knew what he was doing, he sacrificed his life to save San and he won even if he lost the fight: San is safe, he has gathered many men and he stands with the Songs at the gates of the kingdom ready to strike when the king lowers his guard. Hala has never been more fragile, don't you see?"

"I didn't want all this to happen. I never asked for all this–" Wooyoung couldn't stop the tears, he thought he had no more, but warm drops kept running down his cheeks.

"I know, yeobo, nobody is blaming you. What they did – what we did – we did it because it was the right thing to do" he hugged Wooyoung's body between his arms lulling him like he used to do during the nights when he felt inconsolable.

"I'm so s-sorry, Sangie" Wooyoung hiccuped hugging him back, basking in that warmth he so desperately needed, "I was so mean to you and yet here you are, saying nice things to me and trying to calm me down, I don't deserve all this, I–"

"Don't be silly, you deserve it all. I know you didn't mean what you said back then, I know you did it just because you wanted to protect me" he kissed the crown of his head before he pushed Wooyoung slightly back so that he could look at him in the eyes, "You're a good person, Wooyoung. You're kind, generous, selfless and you're the best king this country has ever seen. You deserve to be happy and I'm sure you will, so don't stop believing it, okay?" his thumbs brushed away the tears that seemed to have slowed down.

Wooyoung nodded, humid eyes and bitten lips, sniffing as he stared at Yeosang for a bit longer before he spoke again, "Thank you, Sangie. You're the best friend I could ever ask for" he leaned in leaving a soft peck on the boy's cheek.

"Ewwww!" Yeosang squirmed jumping back and standing up, his hand cleaning the now humid skin of his cheek with a disgusted face, "Why did you do that?" he was all flushed and Wooyoung couldn't help but laugh. His high pitched voice resounded through the cold room, it felt weird, a sound he hadn't heard in so long that he thought he had forgotten, but there it was. Funny and contagious, and soon Yeosang was laughing along.

•

"One more" San growled pushing his hands to the ground in a weak attempt to standing up once again.

The blisters on his fingers and palms had popped and even if they still hurt it felt much easier to hold the sword. He fixed the bandages once again, noticing how dirty they had become: blood and soil sullying them.

He moved his guard up ready for Mingi's next attack, but the boy in front of him didn't move, looking at him with a pained expression.

"Come on, Min!" he incited, moving couple of steps forward showing he was ready.

"You're tired, we should stop for today" and to show the decision was taken he sheathed his sword.

"I'm not tired! One more round, or are you scared I will beat your ass?" San asked in a smirk trying to hide his heavy breathing and the little shaking of his right arm.

"Your arm is shaking" but of course Mingi noticed, "And you lost the last six matches. You should have a warm bath and rest, we can start again tomorrow"

"I can't, I need to get better. I have to be ready for when–"

"No, San!" Mingi didn't let him finish, closing the distance between them and taking the sword away from his hold, "You need to rest, you need to understand your limits or you will get hurt"

I already hurt.

"If I stop, I–" he tried to breathe, unable to understand if the hyperventilation was due to the training or if it came from deeper inside of him, from the thousands thoughts he uselessly tried to push back, "I feel too much" he admitted, voice shaking and a slump forming at the base of his stomach.

"Oh, Sanie–" Mingi's hand reached for San's shoulder clearly wanting to pull his friend into a hug but feeling how the boy stiffened made him change his mind, "I know it isn't easy, but you need to allow yourself to let go sometimes, it isn't good to keep everything down" he paused searching for San's eyes.

But they were low, fleeting and ashamed. Mingi could see how the boy's fists kept clenching and unclenching in an uncomfortable and probably unconscious way at his sides.

"One more time, I'm not tired" he just said, right hand extending forward to take his sword back again, "Please!" the whisper erupted from his lips almost desperate as he saw Mingi's hand back away, stopping him from reaching the weapon.

"Why don't we just go to the sauna, huh? We can relax and talk, I can listen if there's anything you want to take off your chest"

"You want to listen?" San scoffed finally raising his head, "And to what exactly? You want to hear me say how horrible I feel right now?" his eyes were teary and the corner of his mouth shaking, about to succumb to all the emotions he tried so desperately to escape from.

"You're not horrible, Sanie! You–"

"Stop calling me that! It fucking hurts!" he screamed.

He knew Mingi didn't have any bad intentions, he knew he just wanted to be friendly, but the way the nickname left his lips sounded wrong. The voice was wrong, the intonation was wrong, the way the last vowels lingered for way too long on his tongue. It was wrong. Wrong. Wrong! Just a voice was allowed to call him that, that voice only. A voice he sometimes thought he wouldn't be able to hear anymore. Gone, because he abandoned it.

His hand moved faster, fingers finally closing around the hilt of his sword, and he pulled it with force out of Mingi's hold. The boy didn't fight back, letting San do as he pleased, but looking at him with eyes full of worry. Sadness. Pity.

He wouldn't accept that, "One more!" he almost yelled, words sounding more like an order. Sword moving up as his feet adjusted in the position he had gotten into so many times.

And this time Mingi obliged, but not as San had expected. The boy in front of him moved so fast he could barely react: his sword was out in the blink of an eyes, his feet moving graciously around him, searching for his left side, the weakest one, and he struck his hit with such strength that San felt his whole body shake when his own weapon moved to stop the swing. The rumble of steel again steel filled the courtyard. Everything happened too fast for San to be able to react: the impact, his arm shaking painfully, the grip around the hilt loosening and his sword flying away. He followed its path with his eyes, confused and frustrated, too focused on checking where it landed to notice the soft thump of Mingi's sword hitting the ground too. He realized he was fucked when he felt his body falling down under a weight heavier than his, under a bigger body holding him still against the ground.

"Get the fuck off me" San growled trying to free himself, but uselessly.

"I will when you stop this nonsense" Mingi's voice sounded so calm compared to his, his fists closing more firmly around San's wrists pinning him down when he tried to move away, "It won't do you any good, San-ah. Look at your hands for fuck sake: we've gone on like this for days, you're palms are bleeding, you can't even hold your sword anymore, how do you expect to fight?"

"I can– It will– I–" he stuttered trying to bite back, to free himself, "They don't hurt that much, I can fight"

"You can't! I'm not even trying San and yet here we are: you lost and you won't win in this state" Mingi looked at him for long, it felt like forever before he noticed his mouth open up again, "If you keep going like this you won't last a minute on the real battle field and–" he bit his lip, he couldn't say it...

"Speak your mind, say what you want to say" San growled, tears of anger finally flowing from his eyes, he was shaking.

Mingi broke the eye contact, his hands finally moving away and letting San go, "Your father wouldn't want to see you like this" it was just a whisper but it hit San right to his chest.

He didn't react, his body was finally free to move but he didn't. It felt like it had stopped belonging to him, he couldn't feel his legs, his muscles didn't respond. Only his eyes kept shedding silent tears he couldn't stop.

"San, listen to me, I know how you feel right now–"

"You don't know shit!" the voice came back to him unexpectedly, angry, barking in Mingi's direction and taking all the frustration out on him, "You didn't kill your father, you don't even remember his fucking face, but I did! He died because of me and I–"

"That spear was meant for me" Mingi's voice didn't flinch, it felt almost inaudible compared to San's screaming but yet it sounded louder, "That day the spear would have killed me if my brother didn't push me out of its way taking it in my place" he closed his eyes clearly feeling uncomfortable remembering that moment.

"You– You never told me" San lowered his tone, clearly taken off guard.

"Why would I? I felt like I was the reason why he had died for so long and sometimes it comes back to torment me" he paused taking a deep breath, San eyes were still on him, ready to listen, "I had just killed three man, back to back with him. He himself had taken down two too, it was one of the first times that I was fighting better than him. Maybe I felt too confident, or maybe I was just too stupid to not check better my surroundings, but for a second I lowered my guard and I turned to make fun of him. It all happened even before I could realize it: a second we were smiling and scoffing at each other and a second later we weren't anymore. He suddenly looked scared and he pushed me to the side as his arm raised to send his own spear flying before his chest got pierced. When I understood what had just happened he was already dead" Mingi paused, looking at San that was still lying there speechless, humid eyes looking at him in silence, "I blamed myself for long. I thought it was unfair, that I should be the one to be buried in that field, but here I am breathing and alive. I was given a chance because of him, thanks to his sacrifice. He gave up his life to save mine and I won't waist one more day thinking that I don't deserve this, that it was my fault. He wouldn't want that and I'm sure your father would think the same"

San closed his eyes finally pushing his body up to a sitting position, "But it is unfair, isn't it? I didn't–" a pause, "We didn't ask for this and yet here we are mourning people that didn't deserve to die so early"

Mingi didn't reply to that but San could see his head nodding slightly. He stood up slowly, hands flying to pat where his clothes were covered in dust before the right one extended to San's direction.

"Will you come to the saunas now?" he asked with a smile on his lips, sure his friend wouldn't reject him again, "We can start over tomorrow morning, I promise"

San nodded knowing fully well he had pulled the strings too much, he knew Mingi was right, he had been all along.

"Sorry for being such an asshole" he whispered ashamed for his behaviour but still he grabbed the hand still offered to him, a hiss breaking through his lips when the slightest he felt the slightest brush against the wounds on his palm.

"We should find a healer first, the bandages are ruined, I think dust and dirt passed through them. You will get an infection if you don't clean the cuts fast" San nodded letting his friend help him remove the dirty white stripes covering his right hand, "San-ah–"

San looked up, humming slightly.

"Aurora's army will be here in no more than ten days" he stated, but it was nothing new to San's ears so he just kept looking at Mingi with a questioning face, "What I mean is: we can beat Hala, we have men that trust us, we have the numbers and they... Well, voices say the situation is not the brightest for my uncle"

"Yeah" San breathed out, his heart filling once again with hopes he knew he shouldn't have, fate had never been on his and Wooyoung's side.

"I need you to believe it. I can tell that you are scared, your fighting skills haven't changed but you seem distracted. We can come back here to train tomorrow morning, I promised you and I won't break my word, but I need you to understand that what is making you fail is not your body but your thoughts"

"I do believe it, Min" and it was the truth, that wasn't what scared him he realized as he digged deeper inside of him, "But he's crazy, your uncle, you saw Wooyoung's state, didn't you? He couldn't fucking stand, he teared him apart and every day that passes is one more day of me being far from him, unable to protect him. One more day that Dongyul can use to abuse him, to play with his mind, to–" he felt the pit at the base of his stomach growing wider just at the thought of Wooyoung at the mercy of that awful man, "I know Yeosang promised to take care of him but I don't trust the king. If he sees that everything is lost and he decides to... to..."

"He won't" Mingi spoke, sounding so confident that San looked at him with surprised eyes, "You heard what Wooyoung said, my uncle wants to see him crumble. Death would be a too easy way out. He won't kill him unless Wooyoung really breaks and begs him to, but I'm sure he won't. He's strong, your boy! He was collapsing for how sick he was and yet he resisted until he was sure you were okay. I trust him, and you should do the same"

My little baby, San nodded tears prickling at the corner of his eyes as he thought about Wooyoung once again, I am so used to protect you that sometimes I forget how strong and stubborn you can be, he thought wishing Wooyoung could hear him. But Mingi was right and San knew he just had to trust him.

"Ten days" he said eyes searching those of Mingi that nodded to him, "In two weeks we march"

•

The back of his hand had hit him hard on the cheek when he had spat to the king's face refusing his umpteenth offer, but even if his view was blurry and it hurt all over Wooyoung couldn't help but laugh out loud. His head snapped to the king's direction, standing above him, towering, but suddenly looking so small and desperate that Wooyoung couldn't help but laugh more.

"Have you finally gone mad, slut?" the king asked pulling him up to his feet grabbing him by the collar of his already ruined shirt.

"Oh, Dongyul-ah! You look so desperate right now. It's too funny to see how the table has turned" Wooyoung had retorted, voice still breaking in his high pitched laugher every now and then.

The king slammed him against the wall, his back hitting it so hard that for a second all the air left his lungs but it wasn't enough. The satisfied smirk persisted on Wooyoung's lips and it would take so much more to erase it from there.

"You're just so stupid if you think that anything has changed. I have been way too nice to you. I would have accepted you back even if you behaved like a dog in heat with that fool soldier but I see you really want to die with him"

"I am a dog and yet here you are begging me to come back to you, it does look pretty desperate to me" Wooyoung chuckled again before he was pushed harder against the wall, this time the king's hand flew to his head smashing his face against the cold surface with such strength that Wooyoung could feel blood streaming from his temple to his cheek.

"You will regret your insolence, I swear to the gods I won't find peace until I see both of you burn in hell between fire and screams" he didn't add more, throwing Wooyoung to the floor and storming out of the room.

When he was sure to be alone he let himself grunt in pain, hand immediately flying to his head where he could feel the cut that had formed. The blood was flowing down the left side of his face, covering his eye too, uncomfortable and sticky. Wooyoung tried to gather all his strength to push himself up and reach the small basin full of water at the corner of his room. The hand that wasn't pressing against the wound searched for a hold and that's when he felt gentle arms pulling him up and guiding him to his bed sitting him there.

"My king," it was the voice of a girl he had never heard before.

Wooyoung tried to focus noticing her white dress first. An also white bonnet covered her head letting only a dark strand of hair to fall before her forehead. She looked young.

"Thank you" Wooyoung said when she removed his hand to check the cut on his temple, "Are you a healer?"

"Yes, my king" she replied quickly, focused on the cut, cleaning it and applying a sticky ointment on it.

"I am a king no more" Wooyoung chuckled, nobody had called him that for so long, "Haven't you heard?"

He noticed how her eyes lingered on his face as she cleaned it from the blood and making sure there were no other injuries. Her gaze was soft and caring, "Just because you aren't wearing a crown it doesn't mean I don't see you as my king anymore" she whispered to make sure Wooyoung only could hear her.

"T-thank you" Wooyoung could just whisper back as he felt his cheeks blush.

He noticed how she looked around, eyes focusing on the still open door before she approached it looking outside a couple of times and closing it. The key turned inside the keyhole in a metallic click that made Wooyoung's eyes open wide. He followed her curious, not really understanding what she was up to. She was quick to go back to where the boy was, a fire lightning her eyes. She stood in front of Wooyoung who looked away only when she lowered to grab the hem of her white dress pulling it up and making Wooyoung gasp embarrassed.

"W-what–" he stammered.

"My king–" she called again.

The rustling of the gown left to cover her legs made Wooyoung turn in her direction once again, an evident blush on his cheeks. He moved slowly, eyes shyly gazing at her. But then a ray of sunshine struck something metallic, the light reflecting on the blade of a long knife she held between her fingers. The color left Wooyoung's cheeks that gasped in horror and tried to scoot away from her, as much as the chain allowed him to.

She noticed the fear in his eyes and immediately dropped on her knees, "I mean no harm, your highness" she whispered, her hands raised to offer the knife to Wooyoung, "I came to help, please do not fear"

Wooyoung kept looking at her and at the sharp blade in her pale hands, skeptical, unsure if she was one to trust, he didn't talk neither he moved a muscle to get closer, but suddenly the girl spoke again.

"My name is Ayoon, Yeosang sent me, my king" she whispered again, this time spelling every word clearly, "They're almost here" she said, eyes filling with an excited light that confused Wooyoung even more.

"Who is almost here?" he finally asked in the same whispering voice.

"Those you are waiting for" and at that Wooyoung couldn't help but jump on his spot, taken aback, his hand flying to his mouth to prevent more noises to escape.

"How do you– What do you want me to do with that?" his finger trembled slightly as he pointed at the blade still held in her hands.

"You need to be ready for whatever comes, my king! Please take this... Yeosang is trying to get the key to free you but until then this is the best way to keep you safe" she lowered her head and pushed her hands forward until Wooyoung grabbed the weapon with hesitation and hid it under his pillow.

When he turned to look at the girl again her eyes were on him already, a smile on her lips and in a second her hands found his, "You had to bare so much, but it's almost over. Please be strong!" she squeezed his hands again before she stood up and walked to the door finally unlocking it, "It won't take much longer, be ready my king" and with that she disappeared.

Wooyoung eyes kept staring at the closed door for long before his gaze moved to his pillow. The shape of the knife could be seen through the slim padding, he would have to find another place to hide it, a safer one.

"I will be–" he whispered to himself in the silence of the room thinking at the words of the girl. If San was coming, he would be ready.

•

In the darkness that preceded the dawn Mingi helped him to get ready. Skimmers, gloves, leather and chainmail covered his body without leaving any part exposed. It clinged to him like a second skin feeling more like a nuisance than a protection. San wasn't used to fight in that armor and when Mingi helped him wear the helmet too he couldn't help but miss his wolf head and sleevesless steel suit. The new armor slammed against his chin as he walked, limiting his arms movements and weighing him down.

"You will get used to it" Mingi said moving aside the entrance of the tent and letting the pale morning light in.

"I doubt so" San replied but he knew he couldn't do better.

They heard the army even before they could see it: clanking of weapons, men yelling, and horses whinnying. But then the trees dwindled out and a sea of men appeared in front of them: the view was one of the most colorful sights San had ever seen.

He was so used to see the black armors that it felt strange to spot only some of them in between the crowd, still black but there were red plates on their shoulders to distinguish them from the enemy. A detail that made the tattoos on their arms look even more scary, even darker. He could recognize the wolves helmets, the heads of the men that had followed him when he escaped or of those that fled the castle during the days after. He noticed a specific one nodding and waving in his direction, a span taller than the others, a huge tribal tattoo on his right arm. San smiled to his direction before he realized the helmet was covering his mouth, so he just raised his hand.

"Good luck, Yu-yu!" he shouted hoping that his friend could hear him over the noisy crowd.

They walked forward, through the sea of dark armors, but suddenly the shining black seemed to disappear, swallowed by the deep red of the Songs. Mingi's army was huge: hundres and hundres of men, covered in armors that shone in ruby shades under the pale light. San looked down at his own body realizing how the little red details embedded in his pectoralplates, arms and legs sparkled too. It was a catchy sight, beautiful indeed but from San's eyes there was another color that dominated the scene.

They were standing at the front and a tall banner was moving to the wind. White with a golden wing embedded in the middle of it. They had arrived not many days before and for San it had been hard to look at that flag once again. He remembered seeing that sign for the first time so many years before, when he was still a child. He had watched disappointed to the flag marked by a color so diffrent from his, thinking that it was funny how his king was about to bind to another family that looked exactly the opposite from what San and everybody else was so used to. What's that wing supposed to mean? He had thought, making sure to not express his disappointment aloud. They were wolves, strong and proud, an army feared by all, a kingdom admired by many. Compared to the black beast that wing looked way too innocent and far weaker. He didn't like it he had decided.

He continued to believe it for long until he realized that sometimes what a wolf needs the most is a kind touch, brave despite its looks, that warms up the coldest heart. He had changed his mind when he had realized he had fallen in love with the creature that carried those wings. An angel that showed him a world he had never seen before. An angel that loved him back, despite of his scary looks. An angel that didn't belong to him and had given up his white wings for dark feathers that didn't suit him at all.

But now that wing stood proud and pure before his eyes once again, and when San's eyes met those of the man standing in front of the white army his heart skipped a bit. Wooyoung– he thought before he realized that the light shining in those dark irises was a little bit diffrent from the one he was so used to. It wasn't a soft sparkle but a wildfire. Suddenly the man removed his helmet and San could breath again.

"It's time" the man aknowledged Mingi and San with an imperceptible nod before he turned to his men shouting to get into formation, "My son is waiting!" he exclaimed aloud to incite his soldiers that responded with excitement, he faced the two boys standing behind him once again before he lowered his helmet and walked in front of his battalion.

It didn't take long before Mingi and San reached their men too, one last silent glance, a promise to meet each other again at the end of the day. And they parted.

A huge valley stretched before their eyes and it reached the massive gates and the tall towers of the city. At its feet a mass of shiny heads and shields that captured and reflected the sun's rays. San could feel his body shake at the anticipation of the battle. A thick and heavy silence reigned betweet the two armies, the calm that always preceded the blood bath. It weighted on their heads, squished under their helmets, almost like to prevent their thoughts to leave their brains. San could smell it: the fear, the bloodlust, the adrenaline. San's chest rose and lowered rhythmically, his breathing and heartbeat were the only noises filling his senses, calming him down. But it was sudden, the sound of a horn echoing through the valley and, like a wall crumbling down, the silence transformed into chaos.

The clanging masses of the two armies rushed forward, running, screaming, and in a second the ranks fell apart: colors mixing with each other, bodies crashing against bodies in sweat and screams. San ran forward too inciting his soldiers, the armor bulky and noisy, he struggled to breath under all that steel. The earth trembled under thousands of feet, hooves and carts, a rumble that growled and rang louder and louder, the dust lifted from the charge made them almost blind, but San could see. Hungry for blood and revenge, an intense anger had exploded inside him along with the sound of the horn, he rushed forward sword and shield secured in his hands.

The first lines collided in an explosion of sounds, a burst of splinters, steel and blood. A tangle of men and cries, swallowing one rank after another. But San couldn't hear it: he could see the mouths of the men opening but he couldn't hear their voices, he could see his sword clashing against those of his opponents, carving their bodies, his shield crushing the enemies like bugs, but none of that was producing a sound San could hear. His focus was forward: there was only a man he could see and hear in that crowd, even if he was still distant from him. He sat, safe and proud, on a black horse, looking miles away from the first lines. His wolf helmet was secured underneath his arm, his sword still sheathed, useless and clean. He was looking at the chaos of the battle, lower lip caught between his teeth in a sign of apprehension that made San smirk.

He knows he will lose, he thought and his heart hammered even faster, I'm coming for you.

San's sword flew graciously and deathly, cutting throats, stomachs, killing horses and the men sitting on top of them. He could feel the blood already drenching him in sticky red, the armor looking now completely crimson. His battalion was behind him, he could spot them with the corner of his eye, they were easily gaining ground, getting closer and closer to their target. Suddenly the gates didn't look so far anymore and the king standing in front of them realized it too.

It was funny how his hands trembled as he finally brought his helmet to his head, San found himself laughing madly at it as he kept striking and killing.

"Come on, you coward!" he shouted slashing the throat of the last man standing in front of him, his eyes already focused ahead, and in a second he realized the king had spotted him.

He noticed how his left hand clenched around the bridle while his right flew to the hilt of his sword, his horse neighed and stepped back uncomfortable, feeling his owner fears too.

"If you don't come to me I'll come to you!" San knew the king couldn't hear him, but he screamed even louder, he was about to launch himself forward when more black wolves attacked him, "Out of my way" he growled spilling more blood, raging and hungry for more.

They had probably been fighting for hours because the sun was now high but San couldn't feel the fatigue, couldn't feel the pain, his adrenaline was still high, higher now that he was so close to the king. Only a few more men, ten-nine-eight-seven–, the numbers kept decreasing before his eyes, there were two left, standing a few steps from him, hesitant, clearly scared. They had witnessed San's fury and didn't want to feel it on their bodies, but San wasn't having that, he wouldn't stop until–

A horn resounded through the valley. Two short blasts. Loud that made everyone jump on their spot.

And in a second the few black wolves still standing on the battle field were retreating. The gates had opened and the enemy was fleeing. San's eyes turned to the spot where the king had been until then only to find it empty, a black horse was running further ahead, almost safe behind the city walls.

No!

He could have run but he would have never made it in time. He had got closer but not enough. He screamed in rage and just like the gods had heard his despair, a horse neighed from behind his back. They were with him. He turned only to spot the beast moving in circles, scared, brown mane covered in dried blood, trying to shake off the dead body stuck on top of its back. San didn't wait any longer, in a second he had the bridle in his hands, calming the horse and freeing him from the corpse before he jumped on top of him. The animal snorted almost like a 'thank you' for his new owner and without hesitation it sprinted to the gate's direction.

The biggest part of the black wolves had already retreated, San could see them rushing behind the gates, getting ready for the siege; some black armors were still far though, struggling to reach their companions.

Would they wait for them? San wondered, hoping he would have had more time, but as the thought formed in his mind the drawbridge started moving again.

San incited the horse, kicking his sides with his heels but he knew he was heavy. The animal was frothing but didn't slow down almost like it didn't want to disappoint but San knew it couldn't keep up for much longer.

"Come on, boy!" San didn't think twice, securing himself with his thighs, clenching around the animal's sides harder and leaving his hold around the bridle.

His hand worked fast around the straps of his armor, the pieces falling behind him as he freed his body realizing he could breathe again, he could move again. The horse neighed when he felt San kick him and shake the bridles secured in his fists once again. They ran faster, without hesitation, but the thick wooden gate was moving fast too.

San realized he wasn't going to make it when he heard a hiss right next to his ear: an arrow flew before him, striking the wooden wall and missing the target. But in not even a second another was shot, higher, and this time it reached the throat of one of the man rolling the chain that was pulling the gate up. His hands left the wheel and he fell to the ground followed by the scream of the other man left alone: two arms weren't enough and the gate lowered a bit. More soldiers rushed to help, screams of orders could be heard every second more clearly as San got closer and closer. The gate was moving up again, slowly, struggling... but when another arrow hit the shoulder of the wolf struggling behind the wheel it stopped. The panicked screaming coming from behind the city walls were soon covered by the loud crash of the gate hitting the ground once again. The drawbridge was down and San was trespassing it even before he could realize it.

Screams. There were no other audible sounds surrounding him. Screams of the men desperately trying to attack and push him and the other invaders back. Uselessly. They were too many and the motivation had long left the wolves. San didn't even struggle to defend himself from the weak attacks Hala's soldiers attempted, he easily killed them not even giving them time to get close enough for a try. His eyes kept searching his surroundings, but no black horse could be spotted there.

"The castle–" he heard Mingi's voice call from behind him, he was also on top of a horse, he had lost his helmet and his blond hair were drenched in crimson warm blood "We must reach the castle before he closes its gates" he panted, his sword raising up to point to the castle direction, only the highest towers could be seen in between of the houses rooftops.

San nodded stripping himself from the last piece of armor he was still wearing, the chainmail hit the ground in a thud followed by a loud groan leaving San's lips in relief. He was left with the grey surcoat open at the front now that the armor was gone. The black wolf embedded on his chest peaked through it when San moved, feral eyes looking forward like those of his owner.

"You didn't get used to my beautiful armor, huh?" Mingi joked inciting his horse forward to the castle direction.

"Told you I wouldn't" San replied and in a second he was riding behind his friend.

•

The smoke was slowly filling his room too. He coughed again, eyes tearing up, but he didn't stop. His hands were bleeding for all the times his fingers had slipped and cut on the sharp blade as he tried to loosen the chain, hitting it repeatedly with the hilt of the knife. He stopped to dry the sweat from his forehead. When he looked at the metal around his ankle he couldn't help but grunt disappointed, it only had a few scratches, drops of blood stained it, but it still looked solid.

In the past few hours everything had happened so fast that he barely had time to react. Yeosang hadn't shown up with the key, but there was no more time. When the roar of the battle exploded in the yard at the feet of the castle Wooyoung knew that San was close. He could hear screams, cries and the sound of steel crashing against steel, he didn't look down from his open window, he didn't need to to know what the scenario would be.

He was so focused on his task that he didn't hear the lock turn and when the door suddenly opened he jumped on his spot. The hand that held the knife flew behind his back trying to hide it knowing fully well that whoever had stepped inside would have probably noticed it despite the smoke fogging the room.

"They set fire to the stables" the voice resounded alarmed on top of the noises filling the castle and when he heard it Wooyoung let himself sight in relief, "We need to get out of here" Yeosang moved forward crouching next to Wooyoung and moving his naked foot on top of his thigh.

"Sangie, are you all right?" Wooyoung brushed the soldier's hair away from his forehead revealing a trickle of blood mixing with sweat and soot.

"I am, don't worry it's just a scratch" he fished a key from an hidden pocket, it didn't take long before a click was heard and the cuff around his ankle opened.

Warm fingers massage his injured skin and Wooyoung could just whisper a shy "Thank you" before he stood up, followed by Yeosang.

"Keep that, I hope you won't need it but it's better to be safe than sorry" he pointed to the knife left on the floor.

Wooyoung nodded picking it up and hiding hit behind his clothes. The balde felt cold against his skin and he shivered at the contact.

"The fire hasn't spread yet but it will soon, we need to get out before–"

"Where do you think you're going?" a deep voice resounded from the door and even if the smoke was thick enough to hide his figure Wooyoung immediately knew to whom it belonged.

"My king it's not safe to be in here, it won't take long before the fire will reach this floor. Wooyoung needs to–"

"You freed him" the king stepped forward, eyes locked to the discarded chain on the floor, "You betrayed me too" he growled.

Wooyoung felt a shiver ran down his spine when the king's eyes moved up again, sending flares to Yeosang direction. He knew those eyes: he could recognize the maddening rage behind them, he had witnessed it wat too many times to not understand immediately what it meant.

Yeosang stepped forward freeing himself from Wooyoung's hand that had unconsciously held his arm for all that time. Wooyoung attempted to call him back but Yeosang spoke before he could react.

"Your highness, please hear me out. If we stay here any longer the fire will get us stuck" he begged, finger pointing to the door from where an even thicker fog was coming in.

"You were taking him to Choi, weren't you?"

Wooyoung didn't like how Dongyul's voice resounded, low and angry.

"I'm just trying to take him to a safer pl–nghh!" but he didn't manage to finish his sentence because in the blink of an eye the king's sword pierced his stomach.

The blade resurfaced from the skin of the back in a red ocean. Yeosang's body slumped forward, just a rattle followed by the noise of the sword leaving his flesh.

Wooyoung witnessed to the scene with his mouth agape, too shocked to be able to react. It seemed like the world had started moving in slow motion. The noises arrived to his ears muffled, the voices, the screams, the thump of his friend's body hitting the ground. And suddenly there was nothing but red blood covering the floor. Warm and sticky it reached his toes and it was all it took to bring him back to reality.

But it was too late.

The king had already turned Yeosang's body with a kick and his blade was up, falling down inesorably, sticking on his belly and turning with brutality.

The cry that erupted from Wooyoung's throat was so loud that he felt his whole body shake before he fell forward. Palms frantically moving on Yeosang's body, pushing against the lacerations on his flesh, way too deep to stop the blood flowing from them. The red sticky liquid was everywhere: on the floor, drenching Yeosang's clothes and now Wooyoung's too, it felt warm and slimy between his fingers.

"Sangie! Sangie, look at me! Fucking look at me!" he screamed trying to shake the body lying between his hands.

Yeosang's eyes roamed desperate on Wooyoung's face, bloodied and out of their sockets, his breath came out of his nose in sharp staccatos and when his mouth finally opened only a broken noise, followed by a cough of blood, left it.

"Yeo–" Wooyoung couldn't say more, he kept staring at those eyes, now still and lifeless, a veil had dropped before them and Wooyoung knew there was nothing left to do. Yeosang was gone.

The cry that left his throat echoed loud throughout the room, it felt like along with his voice Wooyoung's soul had left too. The pain was unbearable, reaching every part of his being, inside and outside, a numbing venom that paralyzed him on his spot, leaving him aching. Yeosang was dead and it was all Wooyoung's fault. He cried more, face buried in his friend's chest still warm despite everything, he felt the blood dirtying his face, sticking to his skin, to his cheeks and forehead as he rolled it desperately on it, to his palms because there was where it belonged. Yeosang's blood was on his hands. Everything Wooyoung had done to keep him safe had been useless, in the end he was the cause of his death and now there was nothing he could do.

For the first time he wished San wouldn't come, his heart had been ripped out of his chest and he felt like there was nothing he could do to be able to live normally again. The dull pain was too intense to be ignored, nothing could mend it this time. For a second he wished he could die, he remembered the hidden knife, he could feel the flat of the blade pressed against his side. It would be so easy: he could just take it and cut his veins open. For a second he thought he could do it but then a movement at his back rescued him and his eyes moved to the king standing only steps away from him, his body contorted in a mad laugher as he stared at the scene.

"That's it!" he kept screaming as he held his stomach, "That's the face I wanted to see, show me! Show me more!" eyes out of their sockets, he got closer to Wooyoung, one hand still holding the sword dripping wet with Yeosang's blood while the other reached for the boy's hair, "Does it hurt? Tell me darling, do you hurt?" he kept laughing, pushing Wooyoung's face closer to Yeosang's, his dead eyes staring at nothing.

Wooyoung's hands found Yeosang's cheeks, dirtying them in blood as he kept crying, warm tears falling from his eyes to his friend's face, mingling with the red, tainting their skin in a new color.

"Yeosang-ah!" he couldn't do much more than repeating his name, a fool attempt to call him back.

"This is your fault, jagi. If you wouldn't be so stubborn your friend would be alive" the king stated between scoffs.

The hand in his hair pulled him up to a kneeling position in front of the king. Wooyoung tried to keep his tears at bay but horrible hiccups kept shaking his body. Yeosang was dead and it was all his fault.

"Look at you" the king scoffed again, his sword raised to find the side of Wooyoung's face, the bloodied blade tracing patterns on his skin, moving from his cheek to his jaw and down his neck, dirtying his collarbones and stopping just above the first button of his shirt, "Pain suits you, makes you look so pretty" he laughed, "How does it feel Wooyoung-ah, huh?"

The grip on his hair tightened making him hiss in pain and throwing his head back, fingers closing around the king's wrist trying to let him loosen the hold.

"P-please–" he stuttered, voice broken in yet another yelp, tears fogging his eyes.

"What? What are you pleading for, huh? Want me to take you back now, I knew you would crawl, but it's too late baby"

That's not it, he wanted to scream but he couldn't manage to push his voice out. He couldn't stop the hiccups shaking his body.

"You don't belong next to me, jagi. You have lost that privilege" he continued, the blade of the sword pushed against his skin ripping the first two buttons open and scratching him, blood running down his sternum as he whined in pain, "Such a whore, moaning so openly just because I'm undressing you?" he asked in a smirk as he revealed more skin, blade running down Wooyoung's chest, "Yeah... this is the only place you're allowed to be after all: kneeling at my feet and begging" he paused, eyes indulging on him with a filthy look, "I should use you like the slut you are, I should have realized it sooner, that's the only thing you're goo–"

"Take your disgusting hands away from him!"

He hadn't heard that voice in so long, it reached Wooyoung's ears like a breath of fresh air, but it didn't last much longer because in a second he was falling, harshly pushed to the ground as the king turned to stop the sword lowering on him.

Wooyoung crawled to a corner of the room, staring at the scene like he was outside of his body. It felt at some point like he was looking at it from above: the swords of the two men colliding, their shadows mingling with the smoke filling the room, the red light reflecting all over signaling that the fire had finally spread. He watched, feeling impotent, his eyes kept indulging on San fighting with a strength Wooyoung had never witnessed before. He noticed the wolf on his chest, dirty with blood but still clear and visible. He looked at how it danced through the smoke while his owner kept striking inexorable hits against his opponent. He noticed how the fight had moved closer to Yeosang and for a second he thought to jump forward to move his friend's body out of their way but he didn't have time because the king's heel bumped against it and he lost balance falling backwards and landing against the wall not so far from Wooyoung.

San's sword was up, pointing at the king's throat and Wooyoung swore he could see the fire sparkling inside his eyes even though the flames hadn't reached their room yet. San was talking but it took Wooyoung a while to connect and listen. He had just said something, something Wooyoung couldn't understand, but it had to be something funny because the king started laughing at him.

That laughter, Wooyoung hated it. And as he realized it a new feeling blossomed inside of him, there was a blinding rage growing next to the dull pain, becoming bigger and bigger as the laughing resounded louder.

"It's over for you!" this time he managed to understand San's words ad he walked even closer, sword brushing against the king's throat, "Any last word?"

"You can kill me, but you won't get out of here alive! I will make sure both of you follow your little friend right there" another burst of laughter shook his body as San's eyes moved to Yeosang for a brief second, Wooyoung noticed how his nostrils opened in rage before he growled and pushed his sword a bit forward, "The fire has grown, wolves are afraid of the fire, aren't they? I will make sure you and your whore burn–"

"Stop thi–" but San couldn't manage to finish his sentence.

The king was waiting for him to lower his guard just slightly and the rage seemed to distract San for a second, his sword moved away from the king's throat to raise up probably to strike a hit but he didn't have time. The king's hand was secured around the hem of the black curtain and when he pulled it fell above San's body, caging him under thick fabric for a second too long. Wooyoung saw how the king jumped forward landing on San, sword up again ready to kill him now that he was struggling but something happened inside the boy's body.

It felt like a foreign force sneaked inside of him, making his body move without him realizing it. He jumped on the king's back and only when new warm blood covered his fist he realized he had taken out the knife sticking it to the man's side. He heard the grunt the king made, and the rustling of the blade leaving the man's flesh. He tried to shake the body off his back but Wooyoung's grip was solid and he didn't hesitate to pierce the skin once again, the knife disappearing inside the king's back. He saw the blood dirtying the fabric and making the black color even darker. That sight made Wooyoung feel something inside, something way too good and satisfying. He felt his breath leaving his throat in a stutter and his mouth open in an angry smile as he kept stabbing the king. Neck, shoulder, arm. The body stumbled back and fell, Wooyoung moved too, launching himself on top of him. Stomach, chest, throat. When he pierced his eyes a thick liquid left the man's skull, landing on Wooyoung's face too and making him laugh in ecstasy. He kept the pace, arm raising and falling unstoppable, the muscle hurt and the grip had become slippery because of the blood but he wouldn't stop. Not until the rage would–

"He's dead!" he felt San's arms pulling him away, he managed to stick the knife into the king's belly one last time and leaving it there before San repeated, "Woo, stop it! He's dead!"

He turned to face San, a wide smile on his face. He had killed the king. It was over. They could finally–

But San wasn't smiling, his eyes were full of tears and he pulled Wooyoung into a hug so tight that he felt the breath being squished out of his system.

We won, why isn't he happy?

"I'm so sorry, Woo–" he heard San whisper to his ear before warm tears wetted his neck.

And suddenly the rage was gone and the numbing pain he had pushed back for a short while came back with all force. His eyes landed on Yeosang still lying lifeless on the bloodied floor and suddenly Wooyoung realized it. There was blood everywhere. On the ground, on the walls, on San's body, on his. He looked at his hands and he gasped in horror. He squirmed still caged into San's hug, trying to run away, away from that room, away from himself, but San kept him there.

"Sshh–" he lulled him between his arms, "It's okay, everything is going to be okay, it's over baby. It's over"

"It's o-over" Wooyoung unconsciously stammered trying to breathe, trying to calm down and in a second another realization hit him.

It was hot. The fire had reached the corridor outside of the room and was quickly eating everything that surrounded them. Wooyoung gasped pulling away from San.

"We need to leave" San stated looking around for a way out.

Wooyoung saw how he ran to the open window and looked down before he turned to face Wooyoung again.

"Come!" he ordered signaling Wooyoung to jump on his back, "It's not that tall we can climb it down"

Wooyoung was about to obey but he stopped suddenly reaching for his bed instead.

"Wooyoung we don't have time, we–"

"Yeosang" Wooyoung just said picking up a set of sheets that looked solid enough, "Pick Yeosang's body, take him down too, I can climb it myself"

He didn't listen to San's protests running instead to his friend and moving him up, the body was heavy but luckily not so rigid. San looked at him for a second longer before he turned, obliging to Wooyoung's request. They secured the body to San tying it with the black sheet, making sure it wouldn't slip during their way down and then they were walking to the window.

"I'll go first, are you sure you can do it?" he asked again looking at Wooyoung with worry.

"I have climbed higher ones" he didn't know how he remembered San saying that same sentence a long time before, when they were still happy and oblivious of everything that was to come, but he did.

And probably San remembered too because he smiled, shaking his head, "Be careful and try to not look down, okay?"

Wooyoung nodded and in a second San was out, feet and hands secured on the ivy and thick branches that covered the wall. He followed immediately after feeling the burning of the fire getting too close to his back. The height scared him but being burned alive felt worse. He did as San told him, securing his weight carefully before he moved another step, trying to not look down. His arms and legs were shaking and the skin on his palms hurt now that the adrenaline had partially left him, the scratches and cut stung his skin as he grabbed the vines. He felt his foot slip a couple of times but luckily he managed to hold himself up. The descending felt like never ending, he was so tired and his muscles kept screaming at him, he was about to call San to tell him he couldn't do it anymore when he felt hands closing around his hips and pulling him back. He sighed in relief and let go, his body was carefully put down and when his feet touched the ground he let himself crumble.

San was next to him one hand still secured on his hip like he couldn't let go, like he needed that contact to be sure they were actually together and safe. He kept staring at Wooyoung, but the boy's eyes weren't on him. His gaze kept looking at San's back, at a specific spot on the ground, and San didn't need to turn to know he was staring at Yeosang's corpse.

"Woo–" he tried to call him but Wooyoung didn't reply, he just crawled to where his friend was.

San turned to see him move the hair away from Yeosang's face, trying to scrub the dried blood the dirtied his cheeks and finally closing his eyes.

"I killed him" he whispered before he turned to look at San, eyes red and puffy, unable to stop the tears from falling down.

San rushed forward taking Wooyoung's fragile body between his arms, he felt so small in that moment shaking and crying, face buried against San's chest.

"You didn't kill him, baby" he whispered kissing the crown of his head, "I know you tried to protect him, it isn't your fault"

"I've been horrible to him! And n-now he's–" he couldn't finish the sentence because another loud sob broke through him.

"He loved you! He had been by your side for all this time because he loved you. I am sure he didn't think you were horrible, he knew you loved him back. He knew everything you did was to keep him safe" San kept lulling him, caressing his back and leaving soft kisses wherever he could.

He kept whispering calming words to Wooyoung's ears, trying to let him understand nothing of what had happened was his fault. He didn't know what Wooyoung was thinking because he kept silent, only little cries and sobs left his mouth, but as time passed he stopped shaking and when he finally pulled back the tears had stopped.

"I want to give him a proper ceremony" was the only thing he said when he looked again at San, "He deserves it"

•

A heavy rain followed those nefarious days. It washed the blood away and stopped the raging fire.

"You should come inside" his father's voice rescued Wooyoung from his train of thoughts.

He was standing under the patio in front of the main entrance of the Song's castle, he had been watching the drops falling one after another mesmerized. It was cold, but the goosebumps on his skin and the shivers that shook his body made him feel alive, grounded.

"I will in a moment" he whispered, turning to look at the man with a weak smile.

He had grown old. Wooyoung noticed the wrinkles around his eyes and at the corner of his mouth realizing how much time had passed. His father was still a handsome man but the years hadn't been gentle to him either.

"Wooyoung–" his father called him again, "I know it's probably too late for it but I hope you can forgive me. I have been so stupid and heartless to leave you in the hands of such a horrible man, but at that time he looked like the best option for all of us. I don't want your understanding, but I hope you will believe that I am very sorry if my decisions put you through all the suffering you had experienced"

Wooyoung looked at him in disbelief, of all things he hadn't expected that. He had never blamed his father for his misery knowing fully well he had just accomplished his duties. He stepped closer to him and put a hand on the man's shoulder.

"I have never blamed you or mother for all that happened, you did nothing wrong, so please don't let yourself think you need to be forgiven"

His father nodded, his face softening, shoulders relaxing before his own hand reached out for his son's, "I don't know what you planned to do now but Aurora will always be your home, Wooyoung"

That's right, what will I do now? Wooyoung lingered on the possibilities, stopping his train of thoughts only when his father dragged him through the door. It was warm and bright inside despite the rainy day, he followed the man trying to calm his breathing and accept whatever the future had planned for him.

Days passed, the sun came back and the funeral pyres were lit. The ointments that drenched the fabric wrapping the bodies filled the air, and as the people looked at the tall fire reaching the sky they swore they could see the souls of their dear ones follow the smoke and dissolve in the air.

That night too Wooyoung had sneaked out of his room to reach that of San, silently climbing into his bed and wrapping himself around strong arms that would keep him safe from the nightmares that didn't seem to want him to rest. It felt so weird to be finally able to sleep next to each other in the comfort of a room, and yet none of them had imagined it would happen like this. The silence stayed thick and the blankets felt like not enough to protect them from the cold that reigned in the room.

Again days passed, one after the other, all the same, empty and boring. Days where he could just stroll around foreign corridors, in silence, avoiding the people's company until he could. Sometimes he sat at his window looking at the yard where San and Mingi kept training despite the war was over. Wooyoung wondered if that was their way to grieve for those they had lost.

It was during one of those days that a knock was heard on his door.

"Come on in, it's open" he replied standing up and making sure he looked presentable.

"Good morning, dear!" Ryujin had walked inside the room bowing her head slightly before she closed the door at her back, "I came to see how you were feeling, are you comfortable in here?" she asked looking at the spacious room.

"Yes, I am sorry I hadn't thanked you properly yet. Your castle and this room are very comfortable and I couldn't be more glad for your hospitality, Ryujin-ssi"

"I guess your head had been busy with something else, it's completely understandable" she smiled walking to Wooyoung's bed, "Why don't you sit with me?" she asked patting the mattress.

Wooyoung nodded and let his body sink into the softness of the bed next to the woman.

"Wooyoung, I don't want to be rude to you and I know there are wounds you still need to heal but we need to talk about this. You need to take decisions, you're still a king and you owe as much to your people. Do you understand?" she said with a calm tone, her fingers interlacing between those of Wooyoung.

"I do" he replied, taking a deep breath in.

He did think about the matter: Hala was a vast and strong kingdom or at least it had been for a long time. Wooyoung had realized that under the facade of their motto, "We stand as one", there were many unsolved problems. The various regions were kept together not because they wanted to but because Hala represented safety. The wolves were the best solution to keep the weakest cities on the borders safe from foreign invaders. Hala's commerce was flourishing and joining in meant perpetual economic prosperity. It looked tempting for anyone: it had been tempting for Aurora too that didn't hesitate to give up its freedom and one of his princes to become part of the rich kingdom. It didn't matter if each reign had to renounce to its independence, nobody was willing to start a war against the strongest king of all times just to be recognized for their cultural differences. Hala's borders welcomed thousands of different realities: Wooyoung thought at how different his original country was compared to the city he lived in now. He had gotten used to it and he was sure all the reigns had reacted the same way, but now the so feared army was divided and people were unhappy for all the struggle Dongyul had put them through with his tyranny.

With time Wooyoung had realized there was a solution to all of that, a drastic change that would make the kingdom look weaker but Wooyoung was sure it would be the only way to guarantee to the people a lasting peace. He looked at Ryujin, searching her face and making sure he had a friend sitting next to him. It only needed a smile to convince him he could trust her and as he took another deep breath in he spoke.

"I will need your support and that of my father too, but I do have a plan" he stated.

A council was called a few days later and for the first time it was Wooyoung sitting in the highest chair, it felt weird being in the spotlight. But still he knew he had to do it and so he did. He cleared his throat and he greeted everyone present: rulers from all the regions had gathered there, some were looking at him with deception others only staring with sincere curiosity. He searched his father's and the Songs gaze before he spoke.

"Hala has been a strong and united kingdom for long, but during the last few months things have changed. You were forced to bend your head to a king that didn't listen to the needs of his people, but times gave us a chance to fix things once and for all" he paused seeing how the hostility had left ground to smoother faces, "I think it's time for our huge kingdom to give freedom to the rulers that for so long had trusted their king. Hala will no longer exist and the territories will be split between those seated at this table"

A loud chatter spread through the room and everyone was staring incredulous at the young boy sitting on a chair way too big for his small presence.

"But our armies are not strong enough, if neighboring countries will attack us–"

"We will send soldiers to each of you, nobody will be left alone" Wooyoung replied, ready for the attacks he knew he would have to face.

"But the southern regions' climate isn't good enough to prosper with its own resources"

"I know your people have great skills in fishing, we will economically help you to build ships for–"

But he couldn't finish because the whispers grew of intensity. People panicked starting speaking one above the other, trying to catch Wooyoung's attention but not allowing him to reply.

"How can we manage to..."

"I can't guarantee the safety..."

"This is absurd, after..."

"I think Wooyoung has a point," a voice resounded louder than all the others, "we will still be able to strengthen ties of cooperation, the economy will grow because everyone will be able to take care of what they are best at. We will find the money and the people to help you all through the process. Our independence will bring great prosperity to all of us" it was Mingi's voice, the boy had stood up from his chair and was talking with such confidence that everyone seemed to hang from his lips, "I have been with this boy long enough to understand that if there's someone that knows what the people of Hala need, that person is him. You have my trust and the Songs will be ready to support this new start"

It didn't take long to convince everyone in the room that it was a good plan to follow, the reigns that had been weaker and for all that time had looked for support from Hala's center found the so needed help in generous neighbors. The smaller provinces were reorganized under more vast areas sharing their same customs and traditions. An economic plan was developed to bring resources to every region that needed them. In the end only the territories surrounding the castle that had been the center of a huge empire were left to be redistributed.

"It belongs to you" Mingi shook his head when Wooyoung suggested that the Songs would take it, "The people know you, they trust you. They fought for your freedom, they would be happy to see you keeping at least part of this country"

Wooyoung looked around and realized only soft smiles and nodding heads were staring at him, "But, I've never–" he flinched on his chair, but a hand touched his shoulder.

"You helped Hala more than any other king before" Mingi said, "Don't doubt yourself Wooyoung, you have been a good king and there's much more you can do for these people"

It took a long time for everything to be settled and for the new little reigns to get used to the new legislation, but soon enough Hala ceased to exist and Wooyoung was crowned for the second time: the golden wolf was gone leaving space to a wing so similar to that of Aurora but that had silver feathers instead. Halazia was born.

"It suits you, this color" he didn't hear San arrive and he let a surprised sight leave his mouth when soft lips caressed the side of his neck. San arms circled him standing behind Wooyoung and pulling him closer until his chin rested on his shoulder, looking forward at the sunrise, "I like this" he whispered there after a while.

"The silver suit?" Wooyoung asked turning his face slightly, just enough to be able to feel San's breath on his lips.

San chuckled, "No, I mean... of course I like how it looks on you, but I meant this–" his hands moved to his hips letting all Wooyoung's body to turn until the boy was facing him, hands automatically flying to the back of San's neck, "Hi!" he smiled, lowering just enough to leave a soft peck to the corner of that mouth he could finally call his.

"Hi" Wooyoung replied in a chuckle, pushing on his tip-toes to get one more kiss, "I like this too. I had dreamed about being able to kiss you like this for so long that I hesitate to believe it's finally real"

San just smiled tenderly. They stayed linked for a bit longer, enjoying each other's warmth, until San moved slightly away.

"Why are you up so early? I didn't hear you leave the bed" he brushed a strand of hair behind the younger's ear to make sure no discomfort was shadowing his face.

"I had another dream" Wooyoung admitted, moving away from the hug and walking to the bench were he left his unfinished book, "Sometimes it's like I can still feel him, does it sound crazy?" he chuckled bitterly.

"It doesn't, the wound is still fresh, it takes time to heal, to... let go!"

"I hear his voice, San" Wooyoung's eyes were once again full of tears, a sight San had to witness way too many times during those days, "He calls my name, I hear him in my dreams but even when I wake up, during those brief seconds when sleep lingers on my body, I hear him"

"Woo–" San sat next to him, taking his cold hands between his, bringing them to his lips, warm breath brushing his fingers before the soldier spoke again, "When my mom died I was very young, I told you about that" Wooyoung nodded listening, "My father used to say that the people that we love never really leave us. When I used to cry because I missed her he told me that I shouldn't cry, because she was still looking at me and she wanted me to be happy, to live my life fully and without despair"

Wooyoung didn't reply but kept staring at him, tearing eyes and swollen lips that San just wanted to kiss until they opened into a smile once again. But he knew kisses wouldn't take away the sadness from Wooyoung's heart.

"If you hear him maybe it means that Yeosang is still by your side. He loved you deeply and I'm sure that if he calls you it's because he wants you to know how proud he is of you. We all are very proud of you baby, you know that?"

His fingers moved to Wooyoung's cheeks, thumbs brushing the tears that fell when the boy nodded.

"You are doing so good, the country will flourish once again and it will be thanks to you, to your kindness and the love you have for your people"

He turned to touch the bushes behind them, fingers lingering on the petals of a white rose that had just blossomed. The fire had devoured half of the castle, ruining with its rage the gardens that Wooyoung had loved so deeply. The black roses were gone, but Wooyoung had planted new trees and plants all over and now that the spring was approaching many little colorful gems were peaking in between the green leaves.

"You gave new color to this kingdom, don't you see?" he smiled caressing Wooyoung's face with the same delicacy he had used for the flower.

"Thanks, Sanie" Wooyoung sniffed, drying the last traces of his tears, "I really needed that"

"Anytime, baby" he smiled pecking his lips briefly, "But Choi San consulentancy isn't for free, you know?" he smirked, turning and lying flat on his back, head rested on Wooyoung's thighs.

"What do you want from me, Choi San?" Wooyoung flicked his forehead but smiled brightly at him.

"Many things actually" the smirk growing wider as he moved one of his hands to palm Wooyoung's leg teasingly.

"Captain, we're in the gardens! Show a little bit of decency!" Wooyoung slapped his hand away.

"You never had problems in the forest though" San chuckled receiving another flick on his forehead, "Okay, okay– I'll stop" he blocked Wooyoung's hand bringing it to his smiling lips and kissing the back of it, "I shall content myself with one of your stories if you would read for me"

"That I can do" Wooyoung freed his hands to take the book forgotten at his side, "You will love this!" he exclaimed opening the first page and starting to read aloud.

Gaze and mind already too immersed in the story to see how San eyes lingered on his face for long before he closed them, a sight on his lips and a whispered "I'm sure I will" leaving them.

THE END