There is an answer in a question
And there is hope within despair
And there is beauty in a failure
And there are depths beyond compare. Heather. 16. Christian. Writer.
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❝ They lay on each other under the midday sun upon that mare,
his arms wrapped around her waist,
her hands at his sternum.❞
From the distance he was from her he wondered,
when was she not beautiful?
Where would it be
and what of the hour?
She, Princess Yona, was seated upon a bed of grass,
overlooking the grazing horses,
in her hands a single Mugunghwa flower.
Her body swayed east to west, and by her parting lips she seemingly was singing a song.
With each step he took towards her, her heavenly lullaby faded,
until his shadow towered her and her pursed lips curved to a smile.
❝ Are we ready to depart, ❞
her words dissolved with the atmosphere that embraced them as she rose,
her head craning towards his as she breathed the final word,
Hak? ❞
The way she tongued his name, the way she stood with her back to him and her eyes poised on his,
he surmises his previous questions lacked answers.
From the start he knew it rhetorical.
He replies with furrowed brows, responds with his knowledge.
❝ Not quite, Princess. The villagers still won’t let us leave until we choose a horse. ❞
Slumping her shoulders at his words slightly, she turns completely with a single twirl, thereafter nearing him phlegmatically.
❝ Then help me choose one. ❞
Last she rode a horse her body leaned upon the man she loved,
the man who lead her father to death,
the man who pronounced her next.
She glances to the side ever briefly with a laugh, but in her eyes he could see the sight, sorrow, as if he were there too.
She found herself torn between the past and present when his calloused hands cupped hers, when he raveled his way through her fingertips to the stem of the flower she held, when he intertwined the bloom into her hair of fires flickering upwards with the rising sun.
❝ Of course, Princess,
but you can’t ride a horse with a flower in your hands. ❞
Her lips part once more as if to oppose, disagree, to maybe then settle her bursting, splintered heart,
but not a sound could elude from the depths of her narrow throat
for even if her love for the thunder beast was but lost in a fog,
her love for him existed still somewhere in the haze.
❝ You sure you want to pick one though? It’s not like we need a horse, and it’ll just be another mouth to feed, ❞
Hak reasons, that calloused hand now tangled between the strands of his own unruly hair.
❝ They’re going to need it more anyways. ❞
He shrugs.
But he couldn’t shrug off the hurting he felt when he caught her visage brightening,
for his heart is caught in a web of her white lies
and he wishes at least if he didn’t have her love,
then could she have instead have had a life full of it?
❝ If the villagers won’t let us go until we choose a horse, then they only wish to return the favor.
If it brings another smile to their faces, there is no excuse we shouldn’t. ❞
Except that she found many.
Except that now she was no longer the same ignorant princess.
Except that now when she found every excuse in the world to stray
from the memories that furthered the cracks of her fragmented heart,
she wouldn’t run away from the pain and plans that came undone.
It was Hak. And it was her.
There was no one else.
❝ Right… whatever you wish, Princess. ❞
If for a moment she found joy, he’d fulfill her every desire.
Three of them there were,
ebony,
ivory,
burgundy.
As Hak reined the white animal which she requested, he noticed an oddity about the horse.
He wasn’t sure if it was the glint in that stallion’s eyes,
gentle and amiable,
yet dangerous and devious,
or if maybe it was just a trick of the light,
as if the horse reminded him of a certain person.
He shook his head at the thought, that he was simply being too cautious, protective of her.
❝ Here you go, Princess. Watch your step, yeah? Wouldn’t want you to fall and break those old, fragile bones. ❞
❝ Hak! ❞
Together they laughed in harmony, their joy but gone with the wind.
She grasped the reins, her thighs tight around the saddle.
❝ Loosen up. Let your back relax, but keep it straight. Hold the reins, but not too tight, and when you’re ready, tap the sides of the horse with your legs.
You remember how I rode? ❞
The last part, he pretends it didn’t come out.
How could she forget what she always remembered.
But she promised herself she would face those memories with a glare and a bow and arrow in hand.
❝ … like this? ❞
She adjusts herself so gracefully, naturally, that somehow he found himself disgusted.
It was a disgust not with her but with himself.
And it had nothing to do with her talent.
❝ … perfect. ❞
It was that she was perfect, and such a thing as perfection belonged
free.
Soaring in the wind along the empty fields
she
was
free.
Untouched.
Admired.
Loved.
He stood in silence, his mouth considerably opened
as if now it was his turn to say more,
more about her perfection,
that when he described her composure as such,
maybe he was instead describing her.
Her and her everything.
This love, if it were even a love, was he sick of.
Because lovesick over her had no cure.
Then she’s howling his name in distress, and the reins are torn left and right,
and he curses himself for being in these kind of situations where life and love were lines without a tie.
He liked it better when those lines were always tied.
Upon the burgundy horse of eyes like fire, he seats himself upon it,
without saddle,
without reins.
Was their love not the same?
He races for her racing horse, and with an extended hand he reaches for her tunic.
Was their love not the same?
Their horses met abreast,
the ivory and the burgundy,
the king and princess.
❝ Princess! ❞
He calls for her, brings his arms around her torso, pulling her body close around his.
Her horse, it continues,
but theirs comes to a stop.
Could their love be the same?
Held in his arms, she shows no sign of discomfort, fear.
Her arms, they lay upon his chest, her forehead fallen at the crooks of his neck.
Her breath was heavy, and from her eyes fell a tear.
They lay on each other under the midday sun upon that mare,
his arms wrapped around her waist,
her hands at his sternum.
And in their moment he finds a petal from the flower missing.
His eyes close, and through their suffering he still finds perfection.
When his lips reach down to caress the top of her head, she brings her head up,
and their lips are closer than ever before.
Unintentional on both parts.
But this was their love.
❝ H-hak! ❞
This is how it was,
now and forevermore-
close but never close enough.
❝ Princess… forget the horse. ❞
His head, it bows before her.
❝ … this horse will do. ❞
He doesn’t raise his head when she speaks, leaps off the mare,
when the splitting flower from her hair is carried away to the skies.
The wind swept along the fields, his hair fluttering with every blade of grass.
When she dismounted the horse he felt as if the breeze wound through him, as if he no longer existed.
Times as these, he thought to himself, made her gravely beautiful, and pondering her beauty was but a grave blunder.
There were other questions to ask.
This one he knew the answer to before even finding the words to ask it.
Such a woman as that a beast as himself could never have.
❝ Deluging his hands with the cooling waters,
he let his palms drip along his constricting guise,
observing the way the drops trickled down his cheeks and parting lips,
the way it descended past his chin and
drifted along the tendons of his neck,
and unified with the river from which it had sundered. ❞
In a forest of rain
was hidden a boy, yet a man,
who lie safe in the steeps of a cave
from water and weariness.
( But in time did sweat from training evaporate,
and lethargy died,
and the sky's tears ceased,
and the remnants of it all was pain,
a hurting he originally tried to rid of. )
The last of the sun shone through the interstices of the forest canopy onto the warriors dampened mask of glistering dew,
his guise coruscating like that of scales a dragon should have had.
He stepped from the cavern into the world.
The petrichor was familiar.
As was the vespertine sun.
( For that hour when death came to Ao,
his body lay upon prairies,
and the evening star was yet scintillating.
That night it was raining.
And when death came to villagers by dragon’s eyes,
the waters seeping into the ground had a scent peculiarly tantalizing. )
His sword,
its grip he grips,
and his companion of a creature he caresses with a single fingertip,
grazing her fur with loving acknowledgment.
Nature was what he was accustomed to,
an environment he understood;
it was a simple place,
an ecosystem that thrived
on critter to beast and beast to critter,
and from this system and earth he stood upon was he brought into the world.
Sight from behind the mask was clouded and dark,
but the placid river nearby he sensed,
for nature and Seiryuu were one.
( He was the moonlight after all. )
When he meanders his way to the waters,
his feet leave a trail for every animal to follow,
for every animal to observe and contemplate.
They watched as he sat along the sinking edge.
Deluging his hands with the cooling waters
he let his palms drip along his constricting guise,
observing the way the drops trickled down his cheeks and parting lips,
the way it descended past his chin and
drifted along the tendons of his neck,
and unified with the river from which it had sundered.
It had been long since he unveiled the veil that blinded him.
To let the waters touch his forehead,
to observe the way water droplets kissed his eyelids,
stung his eyes,
he forgot what it was like,
if he ever knew.
( If she and her companions he called his companions
kept him company,
was blinding darkness
relevant?
They were not here now. )
So the boy dug into the crevices of his mask,
and from beneath it he tossed it to the side;
the humid air blasted at sallow skin,
and he inhaled as if he had not breathed in awhile.
His eyes,
they remain shut out of fear,
but,
O,
how he indulged the way water drowns his eyes.
When the games of a boy are at its end,
he hovers the river below him,
and for a moment,
he swears,
he would memorize the face of a man,
of his own.
( It had been too long since he had seen himself. )
From the depths of the river, death reflected him.
i. Fall in love - Phantogram // ii. Gooey - Glass Animals // iii. Right For You - Lil Silva ft. BANKS // iv. Feel Real - Depthford Goth // v. Clockwork - Dan Aux & Faster Than Light // vi. Down For You - Tatu ft. Alina Baraz // vii. Come Crashing - Digital Daggers // viii. Whistling in the Dark - Phaeleh // ix. Grandloves - Purity Ring // x. Bloom - ODESZA
❝ He engulfs her for the last time,
descrying her gentle,
steady breath,
her tresses of claret and carmine hues,
that scent she always had about her
that drifted into the air delicately,
floating upwards into the heavens
where it belonged,
where she belonged. ❞
Tonight the night sky would be without a moon.
It was dusk now.
❝ There should be enough firewood to last the night. It might get cold tonight. ❞
If the fire at her feet was the bearer of warmth, then her smile was the bearer of life. Every word that reverberated in her throat, slid past her tongue through her teeth, past her lips, that she breathed, the dragons and boy cling to as if they were their heartstrings.
All but the thunder beast.
As of late she noticed a change in his behavior, ever since they left the water tribe. His mind was pressed on something, rather someone, and all she could do was hope that it would all pass, that he’d tease and laugh at her again.
His fingers laced the lapis lazuli that hung from his neck.
He’s lying by a river some distance from the campfire, watching the sun set whilst having a reverie about a camaraderie; the bond between him and an old companion. (it still lives on, more to do with an unquenchable blood thirst and less with the sky they used to point at and call beautiful)
He hears her footsteps that caress the grass sublimely, the wind that ever so perfectly frolics her tunic and locks in a way that was euphonious.The thin waters of the riverside put them asunder.
To think he would ever let her go.
❝ Stay warm tonight, it might get cold… and please, try get sleep this night… ❞
He doesn’t look at her nor does he speak. He hadn’t slept for a week, and by the fourth night the Princess couldn’t either.
❝ … Goodnight Hak… ❞
She would watch him under the moonlight, his shadow violent in dance but his body without motion. Hour by hour she thought of him. He thought of him.
The river remains their barrier. He remains still under the sky without a single movement. Her gaze remains fixated upon him until she lets him go. (for one last night he’ll risk hesitation)
He sits up, turns to face her, all with a countenance that is solemn, but a different kind of melancholy that she rarely ever witnessed.
❝ Princess. I’ve been keeping you up, haven’t I…? ❞
He rises and crosses the shallow river, his eyes memorizing the shape, color, beauty of hers.
❝ That… doesn’t matter. What matters is that you haven’t been sleeping. Rest toni-❞
Their bodies met at a time when the sun was to die and the moon was already dead. His touch, grasp, she is all too familiar with it. It is gratuitous, loving, but in it this time was longing. (for her but something else)
She lets her head fall between the taut skin of his burly chest, her hands curling upwards from his abdominal to his heart. The way which she falls in him lets him fall into her, his head perched upon hers, his lips adoring the dawn, her hair. The way they fit each other, he’ll miss it.
❝ Thank you, Princess. ❞
Her lips, they smile, and upon his beating heart he feels her euphoria, her body melt inside him. (his deep inhalation fills his lungs with her alone. it was the only air he could breath. he’ll choke when he’s gone) She pushes up against his chest to see his face, and his arms fall to his side to let her go. (the last time he’d hold her)
❝ Come. ❞
Her steps he descries as phlegmatic, tranquil yet confident, and when his eyebrows furrow the haze around him thickens, the water behind him darkens.
Then they reached the fire.
She takes up a blanket, and by the tree he stands she runs to him. Leaning upon the trunk she situates herself on the ground, and he assumes the same. From the corners of the cloth she brings it around his body and hers. She graces his shoulder with a cheek.
❝ Rest easy tonight Hak… ❞
It’d be the last he’d see those jewels, those eyes. (he memorized them, and when he looked up into the sky at the stars, he created a constellation from them.)
He didn’t plan on sleeping. The position they were in only made things harder, tempting, but he supposed even the princess couldn’t stop him in his tracks. (not this time at least when his tracks were for her.)
I chose this path. So, please Hak… don’t be sad…
The thunder beast always had this way about him, this way in which his mourning was a taciturn thing.
Guide me.
He engulfs her for the last time, descrying her gentle, steady breath, her tresses of claret and carmine hues, that scent she always had about her that drited into the air delicately, floating upwards into the heavens where it belonged, where she belonged.
Don’t be absurd… You’re very important to me.
There’s a tearing, tempting strain that overwhelms him when he looks away. She was never being absurd. It was absurd to see Soowon now. It hadn’t been that long ago since they encountered. There was something yet to be settled, he felt, settled in a way he would have to do alone. He peeled the blanket from his body when he noticed she entered a deep sleep.
Everything was still but the fire. (the fire within him too)
Confining her warmth within the blanket he tucks her body in. He tries not to look at her, look at the countenance that angles towards the heavens whose constellations complimented her so well.
If there’s anything you want to do I want to respect that.
When he eludes from the fire his departure began. There was no moonlight tonight. The black water of the river that kept destitute lovers apart continued to play its part. The trees were figures of darkness that wandered with him.
He wasn’t alone. He kept walking.
Of course he’d be on guard tonight. (no one would stop him in his tracks)
❝ You’ll be back by morning right? ❞
The darkness, blood thirst- it was louder than anything else. It clogs his ears.
Silence.
The green dragon perched upon a shadow lands in front of the man.
He doesn’t stop. There was just another creature amongst the millions lurking around him.
❝ You’re a part of us Hak. You can’t just leave out of your own selfishness. ❞
He stops.
Selfishness.
Is that what it was?
At least, that wasn’t all it was.
If he kept telling himself it was her, then it wasn’t for him?
The green dragon faces south, the thunder beast north.
It was only for a moment that he stopped in his tracks. He thought he heard something.
When do you stop, thunder beast?
That dragon leg heads towards the back of the beast, but such an action he surmised long beforehand. With the blunt end of his long sword he places his weight, strength, upon it, thrusting it into the others diaphragm. (they had been in this position before, when he called his princess his beloved)
He faced north the entire time. And then he continued.
Protect her with with your life, droopy eyes.
Jae-ha sits up from the ground, his blood trickling down the edges of his lips, found on his fingertips. The damage of the impact would affect him later.
He’d let him go. His determination reminded him of himself. (and in the end he joined the princess)
In weariness and lethargy the thunder beast was as bold as ever. The darkness did not affect him, pull him down. He was a part of the darkness, but it subjugated under him, feared him.
When he steps into the castle’s town, a strange force affects him. He remembers. It was yesterday, after all.
Its brighter than the stars in the sky.
A step forward.
Do you want to go see the castle’s town?
Right foot.
Yes!
Left.
You mean you’ve never been?
He looks at the sky while he treads.
It was kind of like you were the heart of the town.
Right foot.
It’s because you were there, Hak.
Left.
It’s frustrating. Even though we’re so close… I don’t feel like I can reach you at all.
He stops.
You are my goal.
A fist.
I need to become someone worthy of your goal.
He raises that fist to the sky.
So that from now on, we can walk as equals.
And then he let’s it go.
His fingers laced the lapis lazuli that hung from his neck.
If you can be happy, then to me that is the greatest happiness.
The darkness stopped existing. The air around him was lucid, the sky was lit with her eyes. The castle is above him, he at its steps as a boy. When he reaches the entrance he is a man.
The gates are ever so slightly open. No one is around.
(what does one expect at the dead of night when the moon has died?)
When he slips through the crevices of the doors, there’s a King.
(If he wasn’t a devil, he was an angel)
That man, he looked at the sky.
(was he making constellations too?)
In the swaying wind their clothing flowed amongst the currents in unison. He still couldn’t tell if he wanted his head in his hands, or his head on his shoulders.
It wasn’t for him to decide. He was already noticed.
❝ Hak…? ❞
He couldn’t stop now. His broken promise with her could not be mended now.
❝ Soowon… ❞
I won’t be able to guide you now.
❝ I’ve returned seeking my rightful position and responsibility as general. ❞
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To settle down
would be a rudimentary thing
for someone like him,
the lightning beast.
To settle down
with the sunkissed princess-
to love a princess
is a complicated thing.
"I made this on my own,
okay?
I found the herbs myself,
gathered the water,
boiled it,
filtered the leaves..."
She nods at her illustrious achievements,
listing every step
she took
to achieve them.
He sits on a log
a s t o u n d e d.
“You
make tea?
That's a new one,"
he teases
for he knows perfectly well
she's capable
of
e v e r y t h i n g.
"Hak!
Yoon taught me everything I know,"
Yona pouts at him,
stomping
and waving
her arms
playfully.
She loves it;
it drives him
i n s a n e.
She reaches for two china glasses,
and from the pot on the flame
she pours an herbal tea,
embellished with petals.
The princess heads then toward him,
each cup cupped in her palms,
and with a hand held forward
she renders him a piece of her own craft,
a piece of her heart.
(He'd sip it, bathe in it, paint his body with it.)
He takes it,
and she sits beside him,
and,
O,
how the lightning beast
wonders why life mocks him so;
for her supple thighs
brush
against his arms
and her crimson tresses
cavort against his bold shoulders.
Taunting reality.
Teeth rip apart his bottom lip,
and he begins to clutch
this piece of her heart
held in his hands.
"Hmm...? Something wrong Hak?
If your worried about my injuries,
I'm fine;
I promise."
Lies hinge from her lips
whilst defined cheeks caress his arms;
her hand rests on the back of his neck,
gently.
Here's to questionable promises.
"Oh, right...
I'm sure you'll be fine Princess..."
Echoing in the air,
her laugh resonates,
and the traces she left on his body-
gone.
He could sense her euphoria
with the simple gesture
of this offering,
but as she drank,
and he watched his reflection ripple,
he felt this heart of hers grow
colder.
(Evaporating in the air)
It began with
her hands-
shaking,
and her eyes-
crying.
Her fingertips released that cup,
and the liquid within drenched her feet.
A glistening red stained her lips.
She could no longer pretend agony was fictitious.
"I can't..."
breathe?
Neither could he.
He was terrified.
The thought of losing her hit harder each time.
"Yona-
Princess!"
He grasps her back,
places another under her knees;
picking her up,
apace,
he brings her into a tent
the others managed to purchase,
and he is swift to tend her with
medicinal herbs and cleansing water.
"Princess, keep fighting.
Yoon and the others will be back soon..."
Susurrating.
"Hak..."
Groaning.
"Princess, you'll..."
Mourning.
"I'm sorry...
I should've told you I was in..."
Weeping.
"You didn't have to say anything...
we all knew from the start...
you were brave...
braver than any of us. Thank you P-"
Halted.
"No Hak...
tha... nk...
yo...u..."
It's impossible to love a princess.
His calloused hands dig into his scalp,
his body keels over.
Her shaking hands smooth down her body,
her head falls backward.
A ruby she is in the eyes of many-
an enigmatic rose, too, such thorns piercing her glare,
those eyes,
that hair.
It is when she stands before a particular man,
at the dying sun,
that he stands a distance in awe.
He remembers that sun rising in the east,
feeble,
pampered,
indolent,
egotistical-
what could one expect when all revolved around it-
and the journey that took this sun to the west;
he’d play it on repeat,
until it etched his mind,
until he closed his eyes
and all he saw was
her.
Her in all her flaws,
mistakes,
tears,
outrage,
kindness,
maturity,
immaturity,
child,
woman,
princess,
queen,
the sun.
She is more than the sun.
She scathes like the sun,
but she is also gentle like the sky,
and she is everything in between-
a storm,
rain,
hail,
fire,
dawn.
And what is he?
He thinks to himself he is nothing,
just a tool,
just a servant.
He is lightning,
though,
and the ocean beneath the wandering sun and
enveloping sky.
“Princess…”
the man mutters,
wishing he could say it now,
when plenty before he was never shameful in his desires;
he cannot speak for
when she turns to face him,
the sun streaks past her lovely countenance,
and her hair becomes a thousand hues of claret and maroon.
“The sunset is rather beautiful today, is it not Hak?”
She smiles and turns again,
at such a perspective that the princess has faded with the
frolicking
colors of the sun and sky.
He doesn’t want to lose her-
he can’t.
He takes a step forward,
and another,
until he is within her reach.
(How do you make the change from friends to lovers?)
The man opens his mouth to confess,
but the princess turns to face him with an alluring visage.
She laughs while hands caress his fingertips,
but he’s never sure
if it is out of love
or measly gratefulness.
“Come on Hak, let’s start heading back.”
She grasps his hand and begins to walk,
the princess in front and him behind,
except now their hands are bonded.
"Lin, wait up!" Roughened hands brush droplets aside as if it'd help him catch up to the former chief. "C’mon now, we gotta think this through-"
"No," is the solid answer she replies, her voice without falter. "I already told you. I’m going. I’m going to stop Kuvira. No one else seems capable enough, but I know I am."
She’s torn between whether it’s a lie or the truth. And it’s always been this way for the woman who’s locked her heart inside her armor. That’s the only way to keep her together, for she is a million pieces.
"This doesn’t make sense. I mean- if- if you’re going to go, take me with you!" Bumi hurries to her side, but the glare she gives off is in every way daunting.
"How many times do I have to say it? I am going alone Bumi, and that’s not going to change."
Her hand flickers effortlessly, placing a rock barrier between the two.
She steps amongst the wooden planks of the dock, where an aircraft is ready for her, and her alone. Jade irises peer to the intermost corners of her eyes, decrying the very sight of Bumi.
"Persistent as always, are we?" Lightning strikes’ distort her image; her silhoutte mirrors her very heart. "Stay out of this. I made this choice myself!"
"But it doesn’t have to be this way! Kuvira is dangerous Lin, you’re going to hurt yourself!"
She takes a step forward, but that phrase halts her.
She knows she can’t do it alone. She knows if he comes, he’ll get himself killed.
And she won’t lose him just as she did Tenzin.
Ivory teeth sink in roseate lips. She’s lucky the stars have dimmed and the sky ebony- all for the sake of hiding the tears that fall with the rain.
"Sorry, Bumi."
He’s distracted by the difference in her voice, he fails to notice the wires thrusting him away from her.
Sorry, Bumi, her words whisper beyond pursed lips.
Pitter-patter goes the rain,
a rain that is as pertinacious as the metal woman.
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