| |
Kwan led Gumiho away. At least, he thought that was the case. He realized his habit of chasing her now betrayed him. He was away from his lands—any family lands—in pursuit. He wouldn’t be able to draw from the mountain to help sustain his power.
A surprise came in his next confrontation with the fox queen. Urekkato intercepted, staving off a gruesome blow from Kwan’s side. Gumiho, too, looked caught off guard, fleeing for more favorable ground. In this matter, distance was the enemy. He couldn’t allow her the time to regroup and counter.
“What are you doing here?” growled Kwan.
“Saving you,” said Urekkato, smirking. “Isn’t it obvious?”
In their chase, Kwan only found himself more irritated.
“I’m a man of honor,” continued Urekkato. “I was only able to marry Eumeh because you let everyone believe I was the one to slay Gumiho. If the fox queen lives, what will people think?”
“How did you learn of her return?”
“I already told you,” said Urekkato, breaking away to seize opportunity. He cast his spell, cutting off Gumiho’s retreat to strike. There, he harried her, searching for an opening as Kwan closed in.
Fox tails batted aside spell and steel alike, biding time enough for her to cast her own magic and vanish.
Kwan ignored the grin on the Cat prince’s face, getting to the heart of the matter as his eyes searched out their quarry. “And how did you know to come here?”
Urekkato chuckled. “I’m lucky.”
Rather than banter, Kwan dashed to where he saw the slightest movement in shadow. Their pursuit picked up.
“I would’ve come earlier, but I’ve been vigilant in my marital duties,” said Urekkato.
Kwan barely humored him with a side glance.
“Eumeh is newly with child again.”
Kwan said nothing, putting his every sense into their chase.
Colliding with Gumiho on open ground, she danced through their attacks. Something Kwan realized meant this wasn’t the real one. It was her illusion. He broke away, eyes quickly scanning for her hiding place.
A shift in the thicket. He pursued with all abandon.
His blade met hers, eyes on her cold grin.
“How unlike you to send for help,” taunted Gumiho. “Are you really that scared of me now?”
Kwan gave no response, pressing her back with every swing of his sword. She moved in on a miss, swiping her claws at him. Red slowly spilled from his cheek. In his fury, he released one hand from the hilt of his weapon, grabbing her wrist and yanking. Their heads collided. She gasped on impact, sharply pulling away.
He didn’t relent. He couldn’t.
He swung wide to force distance, signing his free hand to summon lighting. She evaded. Vanishing, she reappeared behind him, dagger firm in her grip.
Urekkato charged, managing to nick her thigh.
For a moment, Kwan’s heart flared in rage, his stomach going tight. He’d made that oath. A foolish boy playing the part of a man to make such a promise. He hesitated. Enough For Gumiho to fall back.
Like with the grove, her tails laid waste, using the environment against them. They were separated then, unable to pin her. Foxfire burst, fast consuming the wood debris. By chance, he saw Urekkato’s folly. Another illusion.
She was behind him, about to strike.
Kwan rushed to him, calling out a warning. Another illusion. Gumiho lured him into reckless action. Now off balance, he struggled against her. He began an outrage, the beast taking over. He could control it a little.
Until...
The illusion of Jiana. Why didn’t you save me...?
He stumbled. His mind knew it was a trick. That Gumiho assumed his sister’s face.
Little brother... The sound of Sueng’s voice caused him to turn. You were supposed to be better.
He didn’t learn from us...
He didn’t save us...
Too weak...
Enraged, Kwan roared out, freeing his magic to go wild. The aftermath of it cleared away the surrounding forest.
Panting, Kwan steadied himself. It wasn’t real.
“Predictable,” said Gumiho.
Kwan remained unmoving, allowing the façade that he’d not yet recovered himself.
She chuckled, low and sinical. He could hear her approach.
“Worn out already? You never did last long.”
He stayed silent, needing her to come a little closer. He could hear her every step. Her breath. The slow beat of her heart. And he heard the knife she pulled from its sheath.
He spun on his heel, feigning a swing and taking her neck into his palm as she ducked, putting a firm squeeze—history repeating. Though, this time, he wouldn’t succumb to the lies she’d given him. “Where is Jiana’s soul, you rotten bitch?”
“Rotten?” repeated Gumiho, forcing a grin. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
He squeezed. “Return it. Now. And I will make your death clean.”
She forced as much of a laugh as she could, clawing at his fingers to try and break free. “I don’t have it.”
Keeping his hold, he pointed the tip of his sword to her eye.
She smirked. “I’m telling the truth. When she died the soul vanished. Just as I said before. Why do you think I keep letting you go, my beloved?”
“Then I have no use for you—”
Her tails. One into his left calf, one into his right thigh, another boring into his side. She slipped from under him.
“Kwan!” called Urekkato.
He saw the start of her smirk, and his eyes went wide. Shadows lay beyond, shapeless and growling in the mists. “Urekkato! Stay—”
Darkness.
He woke, pinned by his own sword, his bleary vision struggling to focus.
“The Kurai sacrificed were worth it. Half of you couldn’t tell an illusion from the real thing, as it was. A successful test. Your own lot was worn away, so it’ll be easier now,” said Gumiho, speaking to a pinned Urekkato. “Oh good, Kwan’s awake.”
“Your quarrel is with me,” growled Kwan, struggling against the pain of his bindings.
“And what better weapon than one of your own?” said Gumiho.
Kwan paled at her cold smile, using what strength he had to try escaping. He wouldn’t let Urekkato suffer the same fate as Borsi. Nor anyone else!
“It’s time to make you mine, little kitten,” cooed Gumiho. A tail pinning each of Urekkato’s limbs, he writhed in a fruitless attempt at freedom.
“I am not the same as your Kurai pets,” spat Urekkato. “I am a Juneun. I won’t be some puppet to a shadow whore.”
She placed her hand over his chest, still baring that cruel expression.
“I am a Juneun!”
She dug her nails in.
“I am a Juneun!”
She leaned in.
“I am a Juneun! I am a Juneun!”
Closer and closer, her smile spreading as he repeated his declaration with a growing panic. Kwan freed himself, stumbling in his step and cursing. Fast in thought, he put his healing magic to work. He couldn’t save his kin like this. Hurrying, he called to Gumiho.
She ignored him.
“I am a JUNEUN!”
She placed a kiss over his mouth, stifling out the repeated phrase.
Urekkato’s eyes went wide, his writhing violent.
When she parted from the kiss, a bead of light followed, leaving Urekkato in a breathless, petrified state. Delicate, she grabbed it in her other hand, and turned her gaze to Kwan. “I don’t want you to die, my love.”
Kwan stared with horror, his healing too slow for his demand.
“I want you to suffer. Just like I suffered.” She licked her lips, placing Urekkato’s soul upon them. “And you’ll suffer at your own hand.”
“Let him go,” growled Kwan.
“No,” said Gumiho. “I think not.” Her tails released the Cat prince, his eyes wide, breathing erratic, and body perfectly in place. “Urekkato. Kill Kwan for me.”
Obedient, Urekkato took rigid movements to reclaim his sword. There was no fighting it. He charged at Kwan, blade held high.
Kwan stretched out his hand, gripping his own sword. He parried, holding off Urekkato’s downward thrust.
“What’s it going to be, Kwan? Your life? Or his?”
Kwan said nothing, pushing off Urekkato and jumping to his feet.
“Kwan,” said Urekkato, urgent, hushed, but still himself. “You have to kill me. Or take my eyes.” He swung. His body compelled to obey Gumiho.
How cruel this was. When Borsi’s soul was taken, ripped from him, he’d been rendered hollow. It made the necessary deed easier. But the soul of a Juneun, stolen so ritualistically, left him able to see their actions and unable to stop themselves. Kwan couldn’t bring himself to think of the necessary deed. Not like this.
“I’m not blinding you, much less killing you,” said Kwan, equally as low as he parried every swipe. “You’re going back to your princess and child.”
Urekkato continued an unwilling assault. Kwan, keeping his defense and giving ground, glared at Gumiho, despising her amused expression.
Kwan worked in a fury to overcome Urekkato’s agility, to disarm him and subdue him somehow. But with every technique attempted, Urekkato countered. A well practice warrior, even against his will, took preservation in the fray. It wasn’t a mindless charge.
Urekkato sent out a cutting gale. Kwan summoned the wood of tree roots to shield him. When Kwan sent lightning, Urekkato negated it with earth mounding up. Blind in the haze, they continued their deadly dance, colliding blades again.
“You don’t understand,” said Urekkato, still hushed and in a hurry. “My sight spell. If she finds out about it, there’s no telling how she’ll use it against you—against anyone!”
His fast whispered plea clicked the missing pieces in Kwan’s mind. That’s how he made his luck.
“Syaoran—Hisa—!”
Kwan’s mind finished Urekkato’s pleading explanation, pressing back with all force. Taking the turn for assault, he worked to put Urekkato off balance, moving with a fury while biding his patience for an opening. There came one, at the cost of Urekkato’s sword cutting into Kwan’s side. He took it anyway, crying out as his claws reached—swiping Urekkato’s eyes.
The Cat prince screamed out, falling to his knees and clasping his face as blood spilled unhindered. Urekkato incapacitated, Kwan set his rage at Gumiho. He’d take back the soul and kill her, or die trying.
He charged.
Darkness.
Darkness...
He’d fallen too far into the shadowy absence, feeling nothing but a hatred.
“I’m not leaving!”
The voice gave him a start. Distant and muffled. Something was wrong.
Hisa?
Hisa!
Where was she‽ He’d never been this far gone. He could hear her. Hear her scream. Hear her whimper and cry. No... Not...
“...I stayed beside you. And I always will.”
Hisa... I love you.
“I love you, Kwan...”
His anger settled. Whether or not it was real didn’t matter. He loved her. He loved her. Hints of light returned to his vision.
“Come back... Please come back...”
Hisa...
That was the last thing he remembered before being confined.