BW C5

Chapter 5

 

“Eek…”

Hoeun dropped the shoe he was holding. It fell off the threshold—thud, thunk, trrr—rolling all the way across the courtyard.

But he couldn’t bring himself to pick it up, remaining bent over. His father went and fetched the shoe himself. Seeing that, Hoeun snapped back to his senses.

“I just, uh, felt stifled and thought I’d, j-just take a turn around the courtyard…”

He stammered an excuse. His arm, pointing toward the yard, fluttered like a pigeon’s wing. His father fixed him with his characteristically stern gaze. Then suddenly, with a deep sigh, he crouched before Hoeun and began to put the shoe on him.

“The road is long. With those short steps of yours, you won’t arrive even by day’s end.”

“…”

“A palanquin is prepared. Take it.”

“…Pardon?”

Failing to grasp the situation, Hoeun looked at his father, baffled.

“If you don’t find your partner at once, don’t be too disappointed. The Fate-Matching Ceremony is held twice a year; spring will bring another chance.”

Instead of an explanation, his father continued with advice. His hands kept working, fitting Hoeun’s shoes, brushing off dirt, straightening the inner slippers—with boundless gentleness.

At last, his father finished, yet couldn’t quite let go of his feet.

“With feet this soft, and you mean to seek out such a harsh place…”

Muttering to himself, he heaved a sigh heavy enough to sink the earth.

By then, Hoeun understood his father’s intent. His nose stung; his vision blurred. On the verge of tears, he couldn’t help but fling himself into his father’s arms.

“Father. Father. Thank you, Father.”

“Goodness…”

The sudden embrace made his father land on his rear, but instead of annoyance, he patted Hoeun’s back.

“Eun-ah, it’s all right to want things. Do everything you wish. Whatever you want to do, I will let you do.”

At those words, Hoeun paused a moment. So Father had heard the conversation with Mother yesterday. He’d said many hurtful things; he worried what wounds those words had left in his father’s heart, yet he was relieved as well—because he’d been granted what he desired.

His father, who had been stroking his back, now hugged him tightly and closed his eyes. He could feel, faintly, the beat of that small, precious heart. The thought of sending that heart out into the world made the sky feel as if it were collapsing.

Yet he realized he could not keep Hoeun only as a son held in his arms. Hoeun needed a life of his own.

With a dry cough, as if choked up, he eased Hoeun away and slowly rose, calling for Deokwoo.

“Deokwoo, are you there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go with Hoeun.”

“Yes, I will attend him well.”

Deokwoo appeared from the side and bowed his head. Hoeun’s father helped him to his feet, dusted the dirt from his knees, and smoothed the silk ribbon tying his hair. After fussing over him for quite some time, he finally stepped back.

“Then I shall be off, Father.”

Hands folded neatly, Hoeun bowed and headed for the palanquin waiting in the courtyard.

His father watched with hands clasped behind his back, then murmured in a hollow voice,

“I should have fed him breakfast…”

It had been a private remark, yet an answer came from beside him.

“I’ve loaded fruit into the palanquin.”

It was his mother. His father raised his brows in surprise, then chuckled softly.

“Have you?”

“Yes. Plenty, even for Deokwoo. I didn’t forget the snacks, either.”

“Very well done.”

By then, Hoeun had reached the palanquin and bowed again to his parents. They smiled faintly and exchanged words too soft for Hoeun to hear, his father speaking first.

“He looks exhausted before he’s even left. I fear he’ll catch another fever when he returns.”

“I almost wish he doesn’t meet his partner today… Is that too cruel?”

“…I feel the same. But I can’t bear to see him disappointed either, so I don’t know myself.”

His father sighed shortly; his mother let out a matching sigh, as if sharing his thoughts.

By then, the palanquin bearing Hoeun passed through the front gate. The two stood unmoving until it was out of sight.

Once Hoeun had completely disappeared, his father said to his mother,

“I should go to the palace today.”

“For what reason?”

“To return His Majesty’s car.”

Lowering his gaze slightly, he spoke. His mother, watching him quietly, nodded.

“Do so.”

“Everyone looks like pigs being dragged to the slaughter, young master.”

At Deokwoo’s words, Hoeun looked around.

The Fate-Matching Ceremony was held in an auditorium owned by the Imperial University. Taegeuk flags hung from the ceiling at regular intervals, plum blossom motifs carved into the stone pillars. Wide windows stood on all sides, and the morning sun poured in, brilliant and sharp.

Below, people presumed to be guides thronged together—and their expressions were uniformly grim.

It was understandable. They were bound for the battlefield. By law, anyone who awakened and failed to serve the nation was put to death; they had come to die in order not to die. The phrase “pigs led to slaughter” did not feel far off.

Moreover, all the guides were young—seemingly younger than twenty-year-old Hoeun. They said most awakened in their teens; it seemed that was true.

“The battlefield is not a welcoming place. Does my face look gloomy as well?”

At Hoeun’s question, Deokwoo shook his head so hard his cheeks quivered.

“No. Young master always looks fair.”

“…”

Hoeun stroked his cheek. “Fair” did not sound like praise. He wasn’t fair; he was pale.

He hoped he didn’t look sickly. He might meet his Military God here today—his friend, perhaps even family…

He checked his carefully adjusted attire yet again when—

“The ceremony will begin shortly. Please form lines!”

Soldiers bearing the insignia of the Daehan Empire moved through the crowd, arranging them. In short order, a hundred or so people stood in repeated ㄹ-shaped rows.

Hoeun found himself deep inside the hall. The sunlight reached there especially well; it seemed he would not feel cold even after standing awhile.

“Whoo…”

He took a deep breath. Nerves made his heart pound hard. He wasn’t used to meeting strangers. His face alternated between white and flushed; behind him, Deokwoo asked anxiously,

“Young master, shall I fetch water?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Hoeun shook his head. His throat felt too tight for water to go down. Swallowing dryly, he looked around and suddenly noticed something odd.

Among the hundreds of guides in line, there were no nobles. One couldn’t judge status by clothing these days, and yet—no one looked like a noble.

“…”

By law, those who awakened had to serve the nation or face execution. So why were there no nobles?

Because heaven had so ordained?

No. Heaven would not choose to awaken everyone but the nobles.

“Orders and laws differ depending on the person.”

Recalling his father’s words, Hoeun clenched his fists. If there were no nobles among the guides, then among the Military Gods—who had to stake their lives and fight monsters directly—the proportion of nobles would be obvious without even seeing it.

“How could they…”

Be so shameless?

As dismay surged and he lowered his gaze, a shout rang out from afar.

“The Military Gods are coming!”

At that, people craned their necks toward the entrance. Soon, the Military Gods streamed into the hall.

“Ah…”

“Good heavens…”

A chorus of gasps rose—not pleasant ones. For the bodies of the Military Gods were uniformly battered. Some leaned on crutches; some had their heads bandaged; some had skin torn so savagely they were hard to look at. Bandages were wrapped around necks, wrists, and ankles visible between uniforms. It was a wonder they had walked here at all.

“Dear me…”

Deokwoo hunched his neck and looked away.

“…”

Hoeun, too, was startled. Not at the sight of them, but at the fact that they were injured. Military Gods were ghostlike soldiers—so strong, so hard to injure, said to heal quickly even when hurt.

And yet they looked like that. How strong, then, must the monsters be?

Had his Military God been injured as well?

Hoeun already worried for the one whose name and face he did not yet know.

Footnotes:

• Taegeuk flag and plum blossom motifs indicate a Korean Empire-inspired setting; the Taegeukgi symbolizes cosmic balance and became Korea’s national flag in the late 19th century, while the plum blossom (Ihwa) served as an imperial emblem associated with the House of Yi.

• Fate-Matching Ceremony (Inyeonje): A ritualized event in this world where guides and Military Gods seek their destined partners; “partner” implies an optimal stabilizing match rather than a generic pairing.

• Execution for non-service reflects the story’s militarized legal framework where awakening entails compulsory national duty; the “pigs to the slaughter” metaphor underscores the coercive nature of conscription.