The Migong, Kingdom of Shobu
Present: Late Spring, 1472
Now that the bronze door had opened, Seiji helped his Master replace the tokens within the box. He watched as Lord Bai carefully reset the mechanism from the opposite side.
As they descended the stairs into the first level of the Migong, the temperature dropped significantly and the quality of the light changed. The ceiling above them was made of a very thick, but surprisingly clear sheet of quartz stone. Even with the lake above, a murky half-light filtered down, giving the subterranean palace a distinct, unearthly glow.
The maze had eight levels and two entrances. Only the door in the palace annex allowed both entry and exit, whereas the main entry was only one way. Thus, Moutan’s tributes would enter…and never leave.
Something clenched around Seiji’s heart.
Iseulbi...
The idea of the young Moutan prince trying to survive all eight level of traps and monsters only to meet his death in the final room...
“Seiji...?” Lord Bai frowned, turning to glance over his shoulder. “You’re not usually this quiet. What’s troubling you?” he asked, urging him into a specially designed lift that would take them to the lowest level.
“Sorry…I was thinking about Moutan’s Prince.”
“Mmmmn. You met him once, isn’t that right? Before the war...?” Lord Bai asked. His tone was mild.
Seiji nodded. His thoughts were a mess today and he felt strangely restless. His master did not press him further and he used the awkward silence of the descent to try to collect his thoughts. Unfortunately, the lift arrived sooner than Seiji would have liked.
As it clanked to a halt, his Master frowned.
“We’re here.”
Of the eight levels beneath the lake, the lowest level was the smallest. Only a single room, it was equipped with necessities like water and food, but was otherwise very sparse. The main feature of the room was a large stone bed in the center.
As if on cue, a spike of pain ran up Seiji’s body and he gasped a bit. His fingers twitched in his metal gauntlets, causing the softest clank. Faint murmurs rose in his ears, whispering just on the edge of his psyche. He slammed them back, commanding them to silence through sheer force of will.
“It happens much more quickly now...the change,” admitted Seiji with a grimace, trying not to pant.
Lord Bai nodded, brow creased.
“Yes, I noticed that too. This time your eyes changed their colour before you even entered the Migong. It appears that Akuma is straining against the seal.”
Seiji took a deep breath and then undid his gauntlets, revealing the sharp black tipped claws beneath. He tossed the gauntlets onto the ground along with his clothes along with the oni mask.
Like his eyes, his hands were also always the first to change. Taking a breath to calm himself, he arranged himself on the stone bed and waited. Lord Bai withdrew a brush from his sleeve and began to draw seal spells all over Seiji’s naked body, covering him with soft gold light.
Pain streaked over his forehead as the sharp end of horns pierced through, thrusting toward the ceiling.
Lord Bai looked unhappy, hating the look of pain on the young man’s face.
“You...as I’ve told you before, there is one way to free yourself from this...” Lord Bai murmured, brow furrowed in concentration as he continued to swish the brush all over Seiji’s skin.
Seiji laughed bitterly.
“The body of the Moutan Prince is special. If you obtain his heart, it could be used to reseal Akuma under the heart spell. At that point, you’d be free.”
“Master, you know that I would never intentionally hurt someone…even to free myself from this nightmare.”
“The spell restraining Akuma was not meant to last forever without a resealing. What if Moutan’s Prince gave his heart to you of his own free will?” Lord Bai asked softly, his eyes as dark as a storm-tossed ocean.
“Is he supposed to claw it out of his own chest and hand it to me?” Seiji snorted, his own heart twisting. “Well, what a beautiful ending that would be...wouldn’t it?”
Lord Bai sighed. If all goes well that’s the way it should be…
“There, it’s done. Drink the sleeping medicine,” said Lord Bai, tipping a small vial to Seiji’s lips. “It won’t last as long this time, but I’ll do my best to spirit the sacrifice out.”
“I’m sorry Master...” Seiji whispered, recalling the deep bloody gouges on his Master’s back the last time he had woken from the demonic frenzy.
Lord Bai shook his head.
“I made a promise to your mother to look after you. It’s not your fault, and I don’t blame you for what happened at the last full moon,” he said kindly.
Seiji only turned his face to the side, expression carefully blank.
“Mmmn,” was all he said.
As Lord Bai straightened, he nipped a forefinger, dripping his blood on the last of the drawn seals. The bright red drop fused with the golden ink of the seals, activating the spell, and binding Seiji to the stone. Seiji felt the familiar pressure of a thousand mountains holding him down. He gritted his teeth, dispersing the sense of panic he always felt when this happened.
Lord Bai checked the seals and was satisfied when a faint light began circulating the golden script, pulsing through the lines like a heartbeat.
“I’ll see you in a week, your Highness,” said Lord Bai, patting the young man’s arm before he left.
Seiji’s lashes swept his cheek as his thoughts went back to the young boy with the shining dark eyes that he had left in Moutan so many years ago…deep eyes that one could sink into…but that boy was not the only one he had left behind. For a moment, his eyes felt moist as the whispers gathered in the dark, slowly crowding in.
He wondered if Iseulbi ever thought of the past.
***
The annex of Shuto Castle, Shobu
The Past: Early Winter, 1460
“Pul? Pul!” Seiren called in a mock whisper. “I have news! Where are you?”
He stood with his hands on his hips and peered back and forth into the poorly lit room. Then he sighed as the silence stretched on. Lips twitching, he took one more turn and then stopped in front of the door, as if preparing to leave.
“Pul…” he cajoled, listening hard for any hint of a reaction. “Will you not come out?”
After another awkward pause, there was a rustle and he turned to see a dirty bare foot slowly descend down the side of a tall shelf. It was followed by a stick thin leg, and then finally another foot as a yellow haired boy dropped down into a crouch on the ground, straightened, and then bowed very low.
“So that’s where you were hiding,” Seiren smiled, relieved that his little brother had finally come out of hiding.
“Pul greets His Highness the Crown Prince, the little sun of Shobu…” the boy mumbled, looking at his feet. He did not raise himself out of his bow, waiting for his brother, who immediately put his hands on the young boy’s shoulders to straighten him up.
Seiren’s heart squeezed as he took in his brother’s shabby appearance. Pul’s long unruly blond hair was tied back with a rough leather thong and he was only dressed in a single robe that looked both too worn and too short for the season.
Seiren had rushed from his naming ceremony to give his brother news of the engagement proposal from Moutan, and hadn’t had a chance to change out of his formal court dress. The idea of travelling to Moutan had been so exciting that he’d not given it another thought, but now he felt overwhelmed with guilt that he had not been more careful of his brother’s feelings. His guilt quickly turned to anger.
“Pul,” he said softly, squatting down in front of his brother. “There’s no need to address me so formally, but where are the new sandals and outer clothes I gave you?”
The boy’s jaw tightened, bright blue eyes filled with a myriad of emotions. Then he looked away.
Seiren closed his eyes so that his brother could not see the rage boiling in them.
“Did the servants steal them?” he asked mildly, tilting his head. He plastered a calm expression onto his face so as not to alarm his brother.
“I don’t know, your Highness,” Pul replied, shaking his head. “They were gone when I woke up one morning, about three weeks ago.”
Seiren rocked back and forth on his heels and then stood. He rubbed a finger over his upper lip, thinking.
Three weeks…exactly how long it took for purification rites at the temple, and all the preparations required for the naming ceremony. The second my back was turned…how dare they! No matter what, Pul is still a prince of Shobu!
“Thank you for answering truthfully,” he breathed, patting his brother gently on the head. He let out another puff of air: “Now, tell me why you said nothing to Kurenai…or to your teacher, hmmn? Did Lord Bai notice you shivering in his study? Surely a cold and hungry student is the worst kind!” he admonished, knocking a knuckle on Pul’s forehead.
Pul jerked his head away, face aflame. He mumbled something under his breath about being too old to be treated like a child, but it was something else he said that caught Seiren’s attention.
“You…what?” Seiren felt his heart seize in his chest. He focused his gaze on the top of his brother’s bowed head, trying not to explode, but as always it made him realize just how small and short Pul was for a thirteen year old. He swallowed, blinking away angry tears as he fought to control his emotions.
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