AN: One last chapter before I yeet off to camp.

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Revision 16/12 - About Noo-ri's village.

Noo-ri's village was at the borders of the fire tribe, near the wind territory but too out of the way to be frequented.

The "king" of that village was not exactly a king, but something of a minor lord that was put in charge of the area. Tyrannical as he was, he gave himself the title of a king and commanded the army as such. It was not bad nor illegal per se, just frowned upon.

The "vision" they received about Sang's statue and reincarnation was a priest's prophecy. This does not however mean he was a priest-- I base this assumption off priests and prophecies of the bible. Some people such as lords can get visions even though they aren't prophets, because 'god' bestows upon them a hope or a warning for the future. This is one of those scenarios.

End of Note.

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"Hey, Sang," Lord Shuten would find him seated at the edge of the cliff, and despite their positions, they would sit down side by side and enjoy each other's company.

Sang would gesture, hi, hi, instead of a polite greeting.

It was custom in the faction that you greet each other casually in situations other than battle and official events. At first, people feared yelling 'hey buddy' at Lord Shuten, but eventually they started going 'hey jackass' at him instead, taking advantage of the rule.

It was funny and in many events preposterous, (Abi lectured them for an hour about it to no avail,) but everyone got close, trusted each other, and valued unity in teamwork. There was a reason Shuten's faction was the strongest as a team.

(Though, it only made the losses harder to bear.)

"You're not mute, are you?" Shuten had asked him.

It was a strange question. Sang had never spoken before. Never mustered a sound even through the toughest trainings-- there was just no voice in him.

"Just now-- when you were sparring with the General," Shuten told him, "there was just one moment, when he hit you in the ribs with the spear-- but you made a sound."

Sang looked at him, utterly confused. What was he talking about? Sure, that had hurt-- he had broken a rib because of that, the General apologized profusely-- but Sang couldn't make noise if he consciously tried.

(He couldn't, not anymore.)

"One day," Shuten told him, "I hope I'll be able to hear you call my name."

-

It was strange, to suddenly have a home after a month of living in the wild.

Now he sat on a chair, patiently waiting as Ayame trimmed his hair. The party had lasted through the entirety of last night, so he still felt sleepy.

He dozed off, and the moment he woke up, he made a strangled, soundless scream.

I can't cover my face with this! He was near frustrated when his scar was in clear view of the mirror-- his bangs were even brushed back, setting his eyes in full, plain view.

Ayame just smiled at him innocently. Holding the comb proudly, as Tae-woo and Han-dae clapped, awed by the great result.

"You look cuter like that," she insisted. "As for the scar, you did it to yourself so the world wouldn't recognize you, right? It looks cool, so why don't we make the most of it?"

Noo-ri turned away, embarrassed. He felt more assured with hair over his face-- but he guessed that had to change now. He was uncomfortable enough in foreign territory, but these guys were way too friendly.

"Now then," Han-dae took his hand with a bright grin, "since that's done, on to the next!"

Noo-ri was kind of hating this now.

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"This is Noo-ri!" Han-dae introduced him to what seemed to be Wind Tribe training grounds, where a bunch of soldiers were training with spears, "he's new and nervous, so break him in, ya folks!"

Noo-ri's eyes inevitably lit up with interest when he was handed a spear. It was nothing compared to the magnificent glaive Lord Shuten held, but this was similar in quality to the grunt spear he held in his past.

The feel of every wooden rim against his fingers-- he spun it to his back, passed it from arm to arm, and tucked it under his elbows. Two steps to the left, a snap to the right, raise, flip-- and catch.

The wind danced with him, lead by the spear in an undeniably skillful movement.

(Ah.)

(Without a doubt, in spirit at least, Sang was a Wind child.)

He was smiling before he knew it. It's the first spear he's held in this life-- but his soul remembered the movements.

He drew it down in the final beat, and breathed out. Straightening himself, he swung it back, and tucked it behind him.

Someone clapped and cheered.

(He had an audience.)

"I thought you'd be an amateur, since you came from Fire," Tae-woo mused, "but you seem pretty accustomed to the spear."

Noo-ri flushed. He'd gotten too carried away by nostalgia that he'd forgotten about the situation. Did they think he was showing off? That would be a little embarrassing... Noo-ri was out of practice. Even at his best form he may be lacking in comparison to these soldiers...

"Wanna spar?" Tae-woo asked, and he was wielding a spear of his own.

Someone gaped in the background, and someone whispered something about how Tae-woo was the strongest in the Wind Tribe aside from their General, so Noo-ri tried to refuse.

He was not allowed to refuse.

And as expected, he lost.

-

Aunt So-yi was an old lady who lived around the area.

"There, hold onto those clothes, let's head to the river."

Noo-ri had a band-aid on the non-scarred side of his face, because Tae-woo was an idiot.

He was pushed to the jobs of the ladies just so he could rest up from his wounds. Ayame was busy today, but Aunt So-yi knew sign language, so Noo-ri just had to bear with the awkwardness.

"You're really good at this, aren't you? The boys in our tribe are hopeless in these menial tasks," she talked through the job, "because they're impatient and sometimes they tear the clothes instead of washing them! You're a gentle boy, Noo-ri!"

A kindhearted old lady. It reminded Noo-ri of the time his mother was still alive-- of Da-hee from his village, when they were still nice and kind.

I lived as a girl, he signed, I do better as a woman.

(In both this life and the last, it was all the same.)

(Rough men work never suited him.)

"Hmm, then you'll fit right in!" Aunt So-yi smiled at him, exclaiming with joy. "In the Wind Tribe, we live freely. Bound by only the barest of rules-- we don't let anything hold us down. Laws, norms, gender-- who cares, right?"

Noo-ri felt a warmth bloom in his chest, and it's so sweet, he almost couldn't bear it.

People so kind really existed?

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Why did you accept me?

Would it not spell trouble for your relations with the Fire Tribe?

Is it really okay?

Noo-ri was anxious. Mun-dok was drinking away during dinnertime, inviting Noo-ri over to talk about his first full day-- but Noo-ri was anything but comfortable right now.

Mun-dok didn't understand sign language, but he could read enough of those ever-changing expressions to get the gist.

"You're probably wondering why we're not handing you over to the Fire Tribe, right?" he guessed, and Noo-ri nodded.

You did not need to do so much for a stranger.

"Well, I just felt like it!" he declared, and took another hard chug.

Please stop drinking you're going to die.

"I never did like the Fire Tribe all that much. We're at peace, but we disagree on many things..." Mun-dok told him, "they may view you as a criminal, but to many of us, you are a hero."

Noo-ri stopped.

A hero? As if. He was just a little one, a coward, someone who ran away and hid, and is still hiding. He is free, because he discarded the destiny that the world, the statue foretold. He was just a runner.

"You've delayed a civil war, most probably for another few decades," Mun-dok spoke over his thoughts, "you may not see it, but you did the right thing. You thought so too, didn't you? That's why you did it, after all."

It was nothing that noble.

He pursed his lips, looking downward, in continued shame.

I just lost my temper at them.

He didn't particularly blow up that armory because he wanted to heroically prevent war or anything. He was just angry. He was angered by the corruption, mistreatment, neglect-- he just wanted petty revenge.

I am a coward. (A deserter.)

Mun-dok probably didn't understand most of what he'd signed. But the man placed a warm, gentle hand on his head, and looked at him with compassionate, fatherly eyes.

"You've had it hard, haven't you?"

It's a rhetorical question, but it made the emotions well up in his chest, in a way that made him want to burst into tears, if only to be broken and vulnerable for once.

No one's told him that, ever.

Not when his mother died. Not when the world was against him. Not when he put a knife into his own face. Not when he stayed alone in the forest for a month.

"But you are no longer of the Fire Tribe," Mun-dok told him, "you now belong to Mun-dok, the hero of the Wind Tribe. You are now my child, and I definitely won't hand my own child over to the accursed Fire Tribe, would I?"

When Mun-dok looked down again, he spat out his drink.

Noo-ri was crying.

The entire dinner hall froze in its spot, pindrop silence overtaking the village as they saw the watery tracks running down the boy's cheek.

All calm goes out the window.

"Lord Mun-dok made him cry!"

"Call the police! Lord Mun-dok made a girl cry!"

"No, that's a boy!"

"Lord Mun-dok has committed a crime!"

"Call Lord Hak!"

"He's in the imperial palace you doofus!"

"Lord Mun-dok has fallen! Lord Mun-dok has falleeennn!!"

And that's how the night ended. Noo-ri crying his eyes out there, Tae-yeon beside him wailing too because that's what kids do, everyone else in the dining room scrambling around for one irrational reason or another, and Lord Mun-dok vainly yelling at everyone to shut up so he could explain.

Peace? Maybe this was it.

And Noo-ri thinks he likes it.