A silver haired man in his early 30′s wore a black cloak over his shoulders and walked through the darkness of the forest in hope of arriving to the borders of the Busan Kingdom. As he continued walking and walking throughout the night, he stopped once he was in the near the castle of the Busan Kingdom.
The source of light that surrounded him were lit torches and the full moon.
He looked around for a tavern to sleep on and found one: The Pink Flower.
He slid the doors of the tavern open and stepped inside. On the inside were candles lit on top of the tables and drunk men clapping, laughing and talking with loud voices. They were very loud. The sounds made his ears hurt and the strong smell of beer forced him to scrunch nose in disgust. He couldn’t remember the last time he genuinely shared drunk laughter with his long passed friends.
His presence was made known to everyone and they turned to look at him. The laughter and clapping noises died and were replaced by stares full of perplexity and some curiousity given he was wearing a black cloak. It drew attention.
The man ignored the stares and walked to the counter. “What can I do for you?” A tall man in his early-50′s, the owner of the tavern, asked him. His rough voice was laced with some authority.
“I need a room for the night. I will pay five gold coins.” The man kept staring at the other in hopes of convinsing the owner of the tavern. For just one night...
“Only one correct?” And the man nodded.
“Seokjin! Come here!” The tavern’s owner called out to his 15-year-old son. A few seconds later, the boy was panting and leaning his hands on his knees to catch his breath from running fast to please his father’s orders. The boy called Seokjin, had messy light brown hair and big plump rosy lips. He wearing a white shirt and long brown pants.
When he straightened his posture, the silver haired male took notice of how the boy was holding a book in one of his hands. “This man here will like a room for the night. Take him to the second floor, the second to the right.” Seokjin nodded and smiled at the man. He was polite to all the guests and liked to silentely observe them and study them.
“Hello, Mister?” The younger asked the man as he guided him through the stairs at the back of the tavern.
“Park.” The man answered and Seokjin smiled. This was his first time hearing someone by the last name Park, at least in Busan.
“Hello, Mister Park. I’m Kim Seokjin and welcome to my father’s tavern The Pink Flower. I hope you enjoy your stay!” Seokjin bowed politely at the man as he showed him the room he was staying the night and left, closing the door. Little did he know that one day, he would come to understand who the man was and his reason to visit.
When the dawn came Park woke up and from the window of the room he stayed the night in, looked at the big castle that was only a ten minute walk away. There were so many emotions coursing through his heart and mind but two were clear, revenge and pain. He chose to walk down this path, for everyone he lost.
“Jeon. You’ll regret blaming us for that event and banning sorcery.” He mumbled and clipped his shoes on his feet and used his opened his right hand, palm facing up. The irises of his eyes shifted from dark brown to the same silver color of his hair before small sparkles began to fly out of his hands; like small fireworks. It filled him with a sense of serenity for one last time. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have realized that someone had peaked at him through the door.
Not long after, he wore the black cloak and covered his silver hair with the hood of the cape and exited the room. As he walked by the hallways of the tavern, he saw the owner and gave him the five gold coins from his inside pocket and left the tavern. Without a word, without a trace of his existance, his body seemed to be erased the longer he walked away, like a mirage.
Park walked to the castle and heard the laughter from a parrade in the distance. After all, it was not everyday the Prince of Busan would turn 10-years-old.
The palace’s gates were open for a circus that was going to be the entertainment for the day and Park hid between the sides to sucessfully infiltrate the palace. It was easy to blend in with the crowd, the cloak helped him. Once he was inside, he waited for the moment where the celebration would start. He remembered the last time he walked through those big halls, heart clenching. His heart ached and he could faintly hear his younger teenager self laughing and running accompanied by his friends, especially the beautiful blue haired girl who captured his heart. But it was all in the past and replaced with dead bodies of his comrades lying around, blood splattered on the walls and floor. Remembering the tragedy proved to hurt his soul.
At noon, the celebration started in the ball room and Park passed through the very large hallways of the castle after lettimg the hood of the cloak down so his silver hair could shine brighter with the sunlight. He noticed some knights guarding the ballroom door and he chuckled. With one swing of his hands, followed by a silver glow in his eyes, the guards fell asleep to the floor. He was a sorcerer after all.
The ballroom doors opened with a strong force of wind to reveal Princes from other neighboring kingdoms, knights, famous lords, and the King, Queen, and Prince of Busan. Everyone turned their eyes on Park and once he made eye contact with the King, the King gasped. A horrifying expression took over his features. This had been the first time in years that he felt genuinely scared yet angry at the presence of another. He couldn’t believe Park was alive and he had to act fast before something bad could happen.
“Knights!” He pointed at the sorcerer and seven knights surrounded the sorcerer and unleashed their swords at him but, the sorcerer swiftly moved both of his hands in front of him and the moved them to the side as his eyes kept the silver color. His action made the guards fly back and drop on the floor away from the people with a strong whoosh!
The sorcerer walked closer to the King who was sitting on his throne with the Queen beside him and besides the Queen, a young boy with raven hair sat on the smaller throne seat.
“I thought you were dead!” The King shouted at the sorcerer, full of fear of the outcome.
“I’m here to give my gift the Prince.” The sorcerer chuckled and turned his head to look at the clueless young raven haired boy sitting on the throne. His big round doe eyes were slowly beginning to fill with distress.
“Jeon Jungkook.” The little boy widened his eyes and looked at the sorcerer in terror.
“No! Stop!” The King got up from his throne and ran towards Jungkook’s trying to shield him from whatever incarnation the sorcerer may say. His parental instincts were solely clawing his heart to protect his son.
The sorcerer grabbed a blue, yellow and green mixed colored crystal from his inner cloak’s pocket and pointed the crystal at Jungkook. The crystal was small enough to fit in his hand and not too heavy. It was a result of magic.
He took a deep breath and started reciting. Memories of death plastered within his mind, specifically the face of his past lover. Everything that he has done was due for this moment and he wouldn’t waste it. Feeling sorry for what he was about to do was not something he could afford because he was blinded by revenge.
“Sas katarató gia ti steirótita kai o thánatos tha sas katapieí sta eikostá genéthliá sas! I móni therapeía tha eínai to filí tou mágou!”
The crystal glowed and glowed, showing a bright light that forced the bystanders to cover their eyes. The King and Queen felt their souls leave their bodies as soon as their son, Prince Jungkook closed his eyes and began to loudly scream in pain.“AH!” He held his right arm tightly and a small black symbol started forming in the back of his right wrist. It felt like a knife was carving his skin and his heart was about to escape from the slit skin. The symbol magically carved on Jungkook’s wrist meant death and the current pain felt was worse was like getting a third degree burn.
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The sorcerer sighed successfully with the last ounce of his strength. He felt the life within him dissipate and his magic fade. He accomplished his mission. His revenge was achieved. Tears pooled down his eyes as he took his last breath. After claiming his revenge, he died from the exhaustion of using the strong spell that drained him of his life. The first time he use of dark magic to this extent completely took away whatever life force he had. Upon his body abruptly falling lifeless, the crystal clashed to the ground and broke into a million pieces beside the sorcerer’s dead body.
“Cancel the party!” The King shouted as he comforted his son’s cries. Every guest left the ball room and the knights pulled the sorcerer’s corpse away from the ball room, leaving the King and Queen comforting their son, alone. No one would disturb them and frankly, they shouldn’t be messed with. As of right now, King Jeon was furious while the Queen was in a beginning state of shock.
“Thirteen years of peace! I can’t believe Park was alive all along! He was the last sorcerer alive! That bastard!” The King gritted his teeth and the Queen shook her head. Her heart was almost beating out of her chest in many ways, one was for worry and the other for a secret she had kept the past 13 years; a secret she had hoped to take to her grave.
“Park wasn’t the last...” The Queen hung her head in shame. Memories of a tragic night crawled her thoughts and left her feeling completely guilty. It could be that because of her, her son was now going to suffer a horrifying fate.
“WHAT?” King Jeon shouted and slammed his fist on the arm chair of the throne beside the sobbing Jungkook. He was furious, blinded by hate.
“Seung-Hyun... My Lord, Min Sae was my best friend... She had to give birth. That n-night thirteen years ago, she gave birth to a boy and she named him... Jimin.” The Queen hugged her son for both of their comfort and expected the King to slap her but, he didn’t.
“In other words, you’re telling me that Park’s son is alive. He’s the only sorcerer alive, meaning he is our son’s only hope of breaking this curse?” The King shouted, filled with rage and displeasure. His son had just been cursed to inferility and here the sorcerer had only left him the chance of survival of he kissed a BOY. How could he not be filled with a towering rage!
“God Dammit Park Ji Yong! Even after death you still know how to make me hate you!” King Jeon felt like he was a pawn within a piece of chess and Park Ji Yong, the sorcerer, was the one playing, in control of everything. The feeling was making the blood rush into his heas and face to the point where he was red, fully angered.
“Mother, it hurts...” Jungkook sobbed against his mother’s chest as she pat his back. Trying to give some comfort to the Prince became the only thing she could do. It was an arrow to the chest, knowing that her child was just sentenced to die and there was only one small way of saving him.
“It’s okay Jungkook. It will go away soon. I hope...” She mumbled the last part as small tears left her eyes and she gave a light kiss on her son’s head.
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
Meanwhile, in another kingdom, a small silver haired boy with pink plump lips was crying while hugging his best friend. Tears just kept leaving his eyes without stopping. The comfort of his best friend was only helping him in the slightest way but the pain within his heart wasn’t going away.
“Jimin-ah, it’s okay... You know your father wanted to take revenge, for everyone; including your mother.” Two 13-year-old boys hugged each other. The younger one comforted the older one by whispering words and softly massaging his back.
“T-Taehyung-ah... Please, stay by my side and together, we’ll run away from the Jeon’s.” Jimin kept sobbing because he could feel it deep within his soul that his father just passed. A sense of hatred towards the Royals of Busan filled him.
“Of course. I promise, I’ll protect you forever...” He smiled and pat his best friends’s back as a slight pause to his words. “You’re the last sorcerer which means, he needs to kiss you. Jimin, from now on, no one can see your face, know what you look like, nor hear how your voice sounds like, remember that.” Jimin nodded and sighed, he had stopped crying against his wishes. The tears were almost gone, as if his body couldn’t produce any more so he hiccuped and panted.
“I will never give him a kiss.” He shed a last tear as he buried himself in his best friend’s neck. Jimin made this oath to himself and also for his father. He wouldn’t let his death be in vain as well as his ancestors who fought back to live in peace but were slaughtered by the hands of King Jeon of Busan.