With the lanterns glimmering and the wind rustling through empty streets, the village was silent beneath the black sky. Kwan Jin-Ho was kneeling at his family's gate, his heart pounding with restless anticipation for a reason. For months, his father, Kwan Tae-Shin, had been guiding his unit to the northern boundaries.
"He's coming back," the child had heard the feeling now.
When Tae-Shin eventually rode through the gates, there was no victory. A hollow expression sat behind his brows, his armor was shattered, and his sword was dragging in the mud. The peasants were once thrilled to see their returning commander, but they avoided making eye contact.
Jin-Ho rushed to his father. Grasping the man's gauntlet, he exclaimed, "You're back, Father!" But Tae-Shin's hands trembled as if he were bearing an insurmountable weight.
Inside, Jin-Ho's mother served a simple lunch with anxious lips. Tae-Shin remained silent the whole time, staring into his bowl as if it held answers to his problems. Jin-Ho reached for the blade beside his father's chair, but Tae-Shin's palm slammed out and caught his wrist. "Avoid touching it," he told them.
Late that night, Jin-Ho heard footsteps and woke up. He found his father sitting in front of the family shrine, his face wavering in the candlelight. Tae-Shin mumbled, "Pardon me," and pressed his sword against the shrine, its blade severely corroded by blood and rust.
Tae-Shin was gone by sunrise.
The mist that clung to the fields was burned away by the slow rising light. Already at the training yard, Jin-Ho was flinging punches into the air with more rage than skill. He whispered under his breath, each blow more piercing than the previous, "Why did he leave?" His practice was a direct result of his annoyance at his father's abrupt leaving.
"You'll exhaust yourself before noon," a voice that sounded familiar said. Jin-Ho turned to find Yun Zhen resting against the fence. Yun Zhen was a shy boy with piercing eyes and a sly smile.
"Then please show me exactly to do it!" Jin-Ho grinned and flung a wooden blade at him. Zhen easily captured it.
Instead of fighting as enemies, they fought as brothers testing each other's limits. As Jin-Ho charged recklessly, Zhen moved with effectiveness and fluidity, avoiding each blow with deliberate ease. Every clash of their wooden blades looked like a promise that they would grow into warriors together, unbreakable in skill and spirit.
Breathless and giggling, they lay on the grass. "Someday," Jin-Ho said, looking up into the sky, "we will be the best swordsmen in the kingdom."
Yun Zhen smiled, a hint of something deeper discernible in his eyes. "Someday," he said softly again.
That afternoon, a messenger from the capital came in the town square, and his trumpet broke the silence. He said, "By His Majesty the King's decree!" "To choose fresh warriors for the royal guards, a tournament will be held!"
Jin-Ho felt her heart leap. This was his chance. He could prove that he was worthy of the Kwan name and bring his family's honor back.
Yun Zhen stood next to him, arms folded. He continued, "This isn't just about swordsmanship." It's related to politics. After you win, you owe someone money. When you lose, you are owned by someone.
Jin-Ho dismissed his friend's caution. "I'll just need to win and not owe anyone after that."
Yun Zhen stared at him for a long time without reading. "It's never that easy."
Jin-Ho's mother was sitting by the fireplace in the silence of their house, her hands folded in her lap. Without glancing at her kid, she remarked, "I understand what you're thinking."
Beside her, Jin-Ho was kneeling. "Mom, this is my opportunity. If I'm successful...
"You'll take the same route your father took if you succeed," she said. And the only result of that path is sorrow.
Jin-Ho clenched his hands. "The father had strength. He.
Muttering, she said, "He wasn't weak." Ambition, though, can work against you. I don't want to lose you either.
Jin-Ho put his hand over hers. "I swear, Mom. I'll take a fresh approach to it. I'll win and come back.
Tears glistened in her eyes, but she remained silent.
Jin-Ho and Yun Zhen strolled through the bazaar the day before the event, taking in the atmosphere. Children acted up pretend swordfights in the alleys while stall merchants yelled their wares.
Among the crowd, Jin-Ho spotted a woman wearing a simple green robe. She was moving swiftly and accurately as she cared for a wounded kid. Mei Lin, the apprentice healer, looked up as Jin-Ho appeared.
Jin-Ho said, pointing to the boy's bandage, "You should wrap that tighter."
Mei Lin raised an eyebrow. "Are you familiar with healing?"
Jin-Ho answered, smiling, "No." "But I'm good at tying a knot."
Yun Zhen watched the discussion with a sly smile, but his eyes flicked momentarily to the blade hidden under Mei Lin's robe. He had the ability to sense danger.
"You two should exercise caution." Mei Lin said, her voice light and her eyes sharp. "Warriors are not the only people drawn to the tournament."
"Warriors are not the only people drawn to the tournament."
Jin-Ho shrugged. "All right. I enjoy competition.
Even though Mei Lin smiled, her demeanor was unnerving. "I do, too."