Chapter Text
By gold and by salt, Jisung had no strong affliction for either. Spices and carcasses of the exotic carried by experienced artisans from far off lands, and a wooden contraption invented to trap fish. Nets made of silver and a purse filled with jade. A hulled gold statue of the apples which grew in abundance around the isle, and a carpenter who offered his labour at his own exertion. He was yet to be impressed by the gifts of his subjects.
His father and mother by proxy were set to return a couple of days prior, thus propelling his tenure in the throne room for an excruciating few days longer. The callous moods his father bore often were seemingly justified by the sheer boredom Jisung felt in his stead. There was no time to learn of the stars and the astronomers who mapped them out, nor was there time to stretch his legs, joust with his best partner, and home in on the fighting form he was aching to achieve.
Being king was boring. At least, for a kingdom of this size. Only rich on the spoils of the sea and the apples which grew from the salts that were expelled from it. There was an entire world out there that his parents were able to frequent as they pleased, tending to trade deals, and acquiring rapport with the surrounding kingdoms in the further western and eastern isles. Jisung, their son, the crown prince, and for now, the king by proxy, had to instead waste away his budding youth in this overbearing seat of iron, gold, and the cherry lacquer expelling from the rubies in decorum of the crown on his head.
Complaint after complaint. Neighbour hating neighbour. Levies being removed on the trade of flour and added to that of the bass which were in season. It was an excruciating circus, and he wore the jester's hat.
"Your Majesty." He couldn't help but grin at the interruption. The three guards exerting past the baker complaining of the yield of yeast which did not do as it was advertised, to kneel in front of the prince in waiting.
"Please," Jisung whispers over to the head of his father's guard who was instructed to keep some sort of eye on him in his stead. He had never been more pleased to see the stoic man, scroll in hand. "Please tell me that father has arrived so I can finally take my leave."
The guard doesn't respond, simply bows his head and hands him over the proclamation. Jisung continues to speak as he stands to his feet, collects it, and unravels it.
"If I have to hear once more about these bloody fishing restrictions, I'll…"
His voice softens as he reads over the words rushed in inky quill, a departure from the usual declarations he received stamped with his father's signet.
"Your majesty, would you like to take your leave?" He whispers close to his nape, hardly penetrating his ear drums and resonating in his subconscious. A nod is all he can muster as his mind flew past the calligraphy.
"I apologise on behalf of His Majesty." The king's guard relays to the crowd of merchants and subjects who were outpouring their notorieties with the kingdom, its people, or a combination of both. "Your audience must be cut short. Please, if you will make yourself orderly."
Grunts and sighs fill the hall. Jisung didn't pay attention to them. His eyes ran faster than his legs would eventuate up and out of the throne room, the guards calling after him rather fruitlessly.
When he felt he could run no longer, he leant himself against the stables. His silver and ruby crown in a white-knuckle grip and leant against his thigh. His sapphire coat suddenly felt too tight, and his mind was doing a cacophony of spins - not making any sense, not trying to either. Hardly a chasm of air in his lungs and a mouth dry and barren.
"Your Majesty," he just hears the familiar voice sneer, the usual snark to his refrain. "Our lesson is later this evening not--"
His voice jolts as he feels a fist at his sternum and rather, the scroll contained in it.
"R-Read it…" His voice, shaky, sweat beading at his forehead - dark hair which had been freshly groomed that very morning now falling out of place.
The silence emanates to the young prince that the man beside him was taking in the news just as he had. There was a slight quiver in his lips, his heart sated inside of his chest, and his spare hand reaches up to scratch at his growing black hair befell to a ribbon at the back of his head.
"Lost at sea…" He whispers, the words out loud piercing Jisung's chest just as he had read them. "T-That can't be possible…"
"Lost at sea." The prince catches his breath, his once shiny black boots sullied by the mud residual in the cracks of the stable floor cobble.
"This can't be true." He repeats an iteration of before.
"My father is a fool." He mutters, not sure whether to let out his built-up tears in a steam or to flail to the floor.
"The journey is one he took as always." The taller of the two knits his eyebrows together. "Through the Autumnet Gulf. There's no such rough water or risk of raiders. We've both been through that very passage last summer."
"Hyunjin, you're also a fool if you believe that." The prince had slid himself down the oak pole he was leant on, sullying his white pants as he buried his head into the hilt of his hands.
"What are you talking about, Ji?" His voice is soft, reserved, a complete revolution from his usual quick nature. "You don't seriously think…"
"I've had it at the back of my mind." He sniffs, glaring back up at his partner in arms and the man who cares for the stables - his best friend. "He went out looking for it again."
"With your mother?" He chews on his bottom lip. "He wouldn't purposefully endanger her like that."
"No ship has disappeared from that gulf. Believe me, my father has been studying the records of those sorts of disasters forever." He slicks back his sweat laden hair, unable to calm the nerves simmering in his stomach. "My mother she…" His voice shakes before it steadies. "…She has been trying to etch there since grandfather passed as well."
"They wouldn't leave you." He slowly glances down at the hunched over prince who scoffs, a sense of disbelief flowing this his mind - angry now, more than sad.
"They would do anything to reach it." Jisung grunts to himself, knowing his life may have been that little bit easier had they turned a blind eye to what was out there - the expanse of the blue floor of salt.
"So, you think… they're still out there?"
"I know they are." He stands to his feet now. "Lost at sea? Please. If their wreck isn't found along the Autumnet cove by the week's end, I'm willing to gamble they're long past the horizon."
"Ji…" He places his hand on his shoulder. "I don't think you're seeing reason."
"You'll see." He sighs, eyes glaring up at his best friend with determination. "I'm sending out for a search party along the coast. If there's no wreck, it will all be confirmed."
And by the week's end, there was nothing. Jisung had sought the assistance of any neighbouring villages and kingdoms to search for the wreck of his father's royal navel ship all to no avail. There were even parties on the lookout for any semblance of driftwood.
By the next fortnight, his uncle or colloquially the Wandering Prince who sought adventure and discovery over the confined nature of kingdom life, had arrived from his arduous travels to assist Jisung with his call to action.
As always, he assumed the attention of the miniscule audience Jisung had in his company.
"You need to call off the search." He pronounces as he enters the throne room, the prince - frail from his weeklong diet of whatever the king's guard could sneak into his mouth - fails to glance up.
"I'm not calling off anything." He mutters, glaring down at the map from his father's den, his protractor in use to decipher the scale.
"Leave us." The demands given to the guards and surrounding men aiding in the search, quickly bow their heads at the Wandering Prince's exertion.
Jisung hardly heard their stampede out, his mind was drawing upon every possible route his father could have taken to etch to the small isle highlighted on the map - the only copy in existence. The paper was thin and wiry, it could tear with a slight movement and the young prince proceeded with a gloved hand under dwindling candlelight. His grandfather had left this to the king upon his death and he held its value as paramount.
"Tell me you're not actually turning to that silly little drawing again." His uncle scoffs, making his way to the jug and goblet of wine by the concrete table, filling his cup.
"It's a map. Not a drawing."
"It's a fantasy."
"It's fact. Grandfather didn't believe in fantasies." Jisung cracked his neck, jotting down on a spare page of notebook, possible entries into the gulf surrounding the isle shrouded in mystery.
"I believe you've exhausted all of your options, Sungie." The prince scowled at his uncle over such an abhorrent nickname all his elder relatives relayed to him. "You need to call off the search, your father and mine are probably alongside one another in the next realm."
The young prince clenches down on his fist.
"It's treasonous to speak ill of your king." Jisung reminds him, another glare thrown in his direction earning a light-hearted chuckle from his estranged uncle.
"Sungie," He tests that awful nickname once more. "Even if what you are looking at on that fantasy sketch is in fact real and not a figment of your grandfather's delusion, it is treason against the Crown to go there."
"You're right." Jisung rolls his eyes at the fact. "That is why I will go there myself and warn father of this."
"You're just like him." He mutters, shaking his head as he stood to his feet, goblet of wine slipped between his index and middle finger.
"Grandfather?"
"No." He ushers beside Jisung's weak body bearing the labours of his parents two weeklong absence. "You're just like my naïve brother. He always believed in these stories of treasure, sea monsters, and lost islands. Like father like son."
"If you have any other suggestion of where they may be - please uncle, be my guest."
"How about the depths of the Autumnet Gulf?" The young prince almost flinched as the words fell from such lips.
He scoffs to himself, knowing best to hold his tongue when it mattered most.
The man he called uncle was a strange extension of their family - always dallying about the kingdom with no care in the world, a goblet of wine in his left hand, a maiden or two in his right. He only made his presence known on a multitude of occasions - namely when the Crown was in strife.
"Why are you here?" He repeats, squinting down at his notebook.
"To stop you from whatever it is you think you're doing." He fails to a sigh, cryptic eyes prying. "You cannot send any naval ships out to this imaginary place - you will be sacrificing your best men for no good reason."
"Who said anything about sacrificing our men?" Jisung glares back at him.
"What?" He laughs pertly, more than bemused by his nephew. "Are you going to row there yourself? You've never left the palace without an armed guard."
"Maybe I will." He mutters about. "I'm so sure of this."
He sighs once more, his eyes almost dropping at just how pathetic and desperate the young prince looked, yet to breach twenty-one and all the more stricken with stress.
"Jisung." His uncle catches the prince's attention in the deepness of his voice. "You need to call off the search. Begin the period of mourning. Plan your coronation and become king.
"Get out." His eyes flicker up, translating to the older of the two that he had a way to go but had grown in the young man's body he assumed. "Get out now or I will have Ser Wilhelm see it that you leave the kingdom at once."
"You will get yourself killed searching for him or hanged for deserting the throne to reach some fantasy isle that your grandfather prophesised in lieu of his disintegrating mind." His voice raises. "You may be the crown prince, but you are nothing if not a naïve boy - believing in this fantasy. Monsters and all."
"I will not give up on my family." His chest tightens. "You may have… but I am not disloyal to my father and to this kingdom."
"If you desert the throne, it will be usurped within the year."
"If I am not back by then, I would have failed." He huffs, leaning his index finger over the prophesied Phantom Islet, just north of the Grace Trench and a scurry from the Obsidian Heights, in continuation of the Oriana constellation. If his father were to be anywhere… he would be right, there… on his way to seek the treasures at the foretold edge of the world. Jisung could feel their presence in his bones. "And thus, I will not return."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Jisung found himself pressed against the oak floor of the library, the cast of his lamp flickering over the ebb and flow of the books and tomes the young prince had read back to front in his surrounds. His chest, weening over a certain lack of nutrition, rose and fell with small, sated snores. The leather notebook tied securely shut and rested on his lap, was filled to the brim with the resonance of etched plans and navel offerings of brave explorers before him.
He had spent weeks away from his royal quarters and rather, the softness of his silk bedding imported from a far-off land. His back was burdened with stiffness and his neck cracked a little too much as he went about his day. But that was hardly a concern for the once spritely crown prince.
The map cradled in his left hand laden in yellowed edges and faded ink, granted Jisung what remaining sanity he felt existent in the arduous entails of his never ceasing mind. His grandfather was given the set of maps by a strange trader, one who granted the king at the time a prophecy of the kingdom's fruition in apples and the cull of bass the following summer in exchange for his solemn promise to reach the land at the edge of the earth and share the wealth of his findings with his subjects.
His ship was found desolate thereafter, Jisung's father not explaining much else before assuming the crown himself.
There was little to go off from the tethered paper all worn and ancient. The map cantered around the Phantom Islet - a place akin to legend and half-truths, the unreliable narrator of drunken sailors and wandering traders who claimed to have been there and lived to tell the tale - despite there being no one tale that added up. Instead of the north star fixated in the corner of the map, it instead followed the Oriana constellation, that neither pointed in any one direction nor didn't show up in any celestial navigation tome to the left of his resting body. Jisung's father had left one copy of the map in his study but the other he always kept on his person.
He felt it an impossible task… one bleak with any resolve and seemingly out of his reach with what little resources he felt courageous enough to employ. But in his heart of hearts, there was nothing on this green earth that could stop him from finding his family.
"…Your Majesty…"
The soft whisper jostled him awake - two gleaming eyes staring back at him and even under the tender candlelight, they shone like two stars bested in the night sky.
"Lix." The prince smiles delicately. The very sight of his life-long friend sat cross-legged on the edge of his napping body, round wiry spectacles leant against the bridge of his nose and clad in his sleeping cottons, alluded to Jisung that he too found solace in the sumptuous library at the same ridiculous hour of the morning.
It would be no surprise to him. The rather thin and delicate boy in front of him spent every waking moment with his nose in a book and quill in his hand for this to come as any consternation.
"How long have you been here?" He couldn't help but meet the prince halfway with a forlorn smile. "This floor is horrid."
"Mm… let's see… since Ser Wilhelm dozed off." He chuckles weakly, his body taking the grunt of his stress. "I snuck out before he awoke."
"At least let me get you a pillow?" He offers out, index finger reaching up to adjust his spectacles, pushing them upward to perfectly frame his glistening eyes.
"No, no." He sighs, sitting himself upward, papers falling to his surrounds of maps and tools of navigation. "I need not sleep at a time like this anyway."
The boy across from him sighed a breathy little smile, the candlelight reflecting through his glasses as he leant a little closer to grasp at the notebook the prince was offering toward him.
"Still nothing about that constellation, huh?" He huffs, scratching his head softly as he utilised his spare hand to flick through the pages - skimming through Jisung's handwriting to navigate any newer additions since he last read it.
"Like everything… It's like it doesn't exist." His lips purse at that last part - Felix ignoring the pang in his chest.
"It's surely nothing I have ever heard of." The younger of the two huffs, tracing the words at a beckoning pace.
Jisung squeezes his sleepy eyes shut, the simmering in his chest unrelenting since the very first day he read those dreaded words on that dreaded scroll. He had never felt closer to his wit's end.
His friend since childhood was easily the smartest person he had ever encountered. The son of the royal tutor who took to studying tomes like mist to fog, questioning everything, and outwardly seeking humanity's greater purpose. If he had never heard of such a thing, the young prince almost felt compelled to throw in the proverbial towel.
"But," His voice in the lowness of a whisper continues. "Ceratophrys was once a fabled myth until a great man set out to find it."
Jisung licks a small smile onto his almost cracked lips.
"My father mapped Ceratophrys." He felt the warmth spread in his chest as the two met eyes once more.
"Indeed." Felix clasps the leather shut, pressing the notebook at Jisung's thigh. "All great men are to be believed before they discover something truly special. That's the nature of history."
He felt understood for the first time in weeks.
"Everybody thinks I've gone mad." He presses his hand to his forehead, sweeping back his dark hair until his forehead is clear of it. "They're calling me obsessed. A lunatic. The Paranoid Prince."
"Perturbed and mad, yes." The young scholar gleams over, that glint in his eye that was never one to relent. "But unlike them… you have determination."
"What if… What if what they say is true?" His whisper echoes, his heart sated in his chest as he presses his knees into his body. "What if they really are…"
Felix doesn't reply in words, he simply reaches forward and clasps the map from Jisung's hand into his own, the passage between the Obsidian Heights and the fabled Grace Trench - rumoured to be the corridor to the crust of the earth - reflecting in his spectacles.
"They are still out there, Ji." He whispers. "They have to be."
By daybreak, the two packed a rucksack full of the remains from the sprawling breakfast table, notebook in each respective hand as they made their way to the stables.
Hyunjin was always up at this time, shovelling manure from the calvary's stalls, his body swaying as he did so as though the stall fork had a razor edge and the sharpness of the finest carbon steel sword. He was born to a common family but brought to the palace at a young age for showing such promise in fighting. Of course, the hazing process prolonged greatly for a man of his birth right. Rather than taking his place as part of the king's guard, he found himself the manager of the stables instead.
He never complained of his destiny, his soul bonded with most of the stallions that heard the full entails of his thoughts most days. But part of him longed to be a warrior - one so famed in history that he bore a name most people knew as legend.
It didn't stop him from teaching the young prince everything he knew about combat in the absent moments Jisung wanted air. A friendship bloomed from the onset.
Sometimes it felt as though they were all each other had.
"Your Majesty," Hyunjin bows his head as he notices the young prince with a glistening red apple in his hand that he threw toward him, his sharp reflexes never ceasing to amaze the shorter man as he caught it. "Lix."
"What do you know of constellations?" Felix adjusts his glasses, leaning over the oak fence to grasp at a couplet of straw, reaching it up to feed the black stallion before him.
"Well, what do you know of a horse's anatomy?"
"Most things, actually." He teases back, smirking over at the taller man.
"Why?" Hyunjin fails to a sigh, crossing his arms over themselves as he leant against the stone trough he had just refilled - his biceps exerting the sweat as evidence of it. "You're trying to work out how to get there, hm?"
"Nothing makes sense." Jisung huffs to himself, reaching into the burlap sack hunched over his shoulder to pull an apple out to hastily be brought to his mouth. He takes one bite before reaching over and feeding the juicy remainder to the steed Felix had braced within his sights. "And if Lix doesn’t get it, I can't imagine either of us will do any better."
"Maybe some distance will help." Hyunjin's eyes meet with Felix's - both equally as worried for their best friend of all these years. "Sometimes staring at the same thing over and over again can do more harm than good."
"We could take the horses out," Felix gleams, brushing the stallion's mane with his fingertips. "It's been weeks since we have done so."
Jisung stifles a less than satisfactory smile. He wanted to waste no time in his own personal proclivities - even if it meant he could escape the sometimes-suffocating palace walls and the onus of royal staff who treated him like a child most days. But perhaps it presented itself as an opportunity to glance at the problem from a mended view.
"It has been a while, yes." The prince mutters, brushing a hand upward and through his matted black hair - a faraway image of the usually groomed and prodded undercut he bore most days.
"It'll be good to stretch your legs, Ji." Hyunjin raises an expectant eyebrow from his leant position. "I can fetch for your horse."
"No, no." He sighs once more. "I'll fetch her. Prepare yourselves and we'll set out. I have enough food to last the day."
The two glance between each other once more as the watched the prince saunter off and toward the royal stable. To them, Jisung always remained a just pillar of balance and kindness. Like the king, his curiosity always cantered away from the norm. He'd be more inclined to pick the brains of the wandering traders who graced the royal court with stories of faraway lands to tell over the rigid and garish entails of visiting monarchies and diplomats. He bored easily and spent countless hours asking Felix a great many questions about everything he had ever read, spending his time away from their lessons under the royal tutor to learn the ways of the sword. Of course, the execution of this involved a rake, Hyunjin, and one too many bruises on his ribs as he walked away from each lesson.
His best friends could see the physicality of his pain and stress wore thin on his face. His head held itself up despite it all, but his eyes were burnt and broken with the ashen entails of the unknown.
"Come on," Hyunjin mutters, manoeuvring a saddle into Felix's feeble arms. "A day outside these walls will do him good."
Felix frowns, hoisting the leather upward, hoping more than anything Hyunjin was right.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Jisung gripped the leather rein tightly, his skin turning white under the rigid contact as they ventured out of the palace gates and toward the orchard that homed the apples which bore the kingdom its riches. The rolling green hills speckled in apple blossoms opened to the expanse of the sparkling sea and the port which operated at the base of it. The crescent shape of the marina allowed for the stone crafted village and marketplace, and the noble houses just before the palace. The young prince had always enjoyed the view from the tip of the orchard, watching the townspeople scurry about their day, etching off the dock with fishing boats and canoes to canter the shellfish that clung to the base of the wharf.
It had been weeks since he had enjoyed this type of quiet - Hyunjin and Felix exchanging pleasantries about their horses alongside the sound of hooves hitting the earth. He hadn't realised the weight of his restraints up until now. The guards who forced him to eat assumed that his sudden interest in the map bestowed upon his father was something he studied out of avoidance of grief. His uncle thought him a fool for even believing it bore a semblance of truth. Everybody within the palace walls had written the young prince off as a madman, somebody not fit enough to run the kingdom in his father's stead - a weaker extension of the once great Han dynasty.
His best friends, who laughed jovially and teased one another as they embarked further up green mound, seemed to insist to the heir that maybe this is the life he had to enjoy from now on. Would it be easier to assume the crown, write off his parents as a destitute memory, and continue the monotonous plight of servitude? Probably.
But Jisung was hardly the man to take the easy way out of anything.
"Remember that time we snuck up here with your uncle's brandy?" Hyunjin chuckled as his horse led the way. "Lix painted the walls of the galley."
"My father checked me straight in with the physician because he thought I'd fallen ill." The youngest gleams back, trotting steadily as he braced the allure of the sea within his sights.
"You almost fell ill for lying to your father." Jisung clears his throat earning a knowing laughter from his audience.
"He would've ordered lashings upon Jinnie if he found out what really happened." Felix teases. "You're lucky I played along with pretending it was scurvy."
"You can point fingers at me all you want." Hyunjin shrugs as cool as ever. "But Ji is the one who nicked it from his lodging. I was as willing an accomplice as you."
"Me?" He scoffs, pressing an index finger into the middle of his wiry spectacles, pushing them further up the bridge of his nose.
"Yes, you." He teases. "You had a quart of a bottle and spilt ribbons up the wall. You don't have the iron stomach we do."
"Maybe." Felix almost squirms as he relives the memory of suckling on the brandy bottle until the spice became too overbearing.
Jisung barely flinches, his eyes grazing down at the mane of his stallion, the gentle bounce of its trot pointlessly massaged the stiff expanse of his hips and lower back. He almost felt guilty being out here, enjoying the sunshine and observing the gentle sway of the apple branches, laden with a juicy harvest. His mind flickered about the contents of his leather notebook - the constellation, the trench, the treasures rumoured to be rampant there. He appreciated the resolve so evident in their efforts.
Hyunjin was glancing in his direction far too often than usual, as though Jisung was a porcelain doll who would crack if the horse decided to buckle. Felix smiled in exceptional abundance, making passing remarks like 'the sunshine is beautiful today,' and 'the harvest will be great this year.' He couldn't fault them - not really.
He felt even more cornered into the box of delusional, the support of his best friends almost saw his subconscious slip into the arduous place of unsavoury. Jisung knew that he could never anger at them, that any sort of emotion right now would be fruitless in the eyes of his true goal.
He bowed his head as they trotted on.
They soon found themselves sat beneath the willow tree north of the orchard and at the highest point of the bluff. What a beautiful perch to experience defeat. Hyunjin peeled an apple delicately with his pocketknife, whistling about to a tune as Felix laid in the sun and away from the shade of the billowing branches that stretched outward like open arms. He was sketching the abnormal shape of the clouds that lolled by, poking his head up every so often to ask Hyunjin if he thought they were the result of a giant snoring. The leaves danced playfully in the breeze, catching dappled shadows that shifted and swayed on the earth below.
Jisung stared back up as the branches weave a canopy of verdant green, a natural cathedral in which his damming thoughts could exist. He felt like a husk of a man - ready to give in and spend the rest of his days on a chair in which he'd never feel ready to sit upon.
He felt numb to the mindless chatter thrown back and forth between his two best; some sort of whimsically intricate debate about clouds continues. Jisung simply stands to his feet, grasping one of the apples from their rucksack before etching toward their three horses who were grazing about in the plains. The sound of the chatter subsided, and he felt a sigh of relief canter away his thoughts of dread and dreary, placing his hand on the cusp of his stallion's mane to feed her.
Through small bouts of insignificant observations of the land about him, and how his father had plans for the harvest he failed to execute, Jisung's eyes land on the vast expanse of the sea - the sun just bobbing above the horizon. There were hardly any visitors from other kingdoms to the lowly port, in fact, the bustling synergy of fishermen and traders often saw larger ships be docked toward the forest where there existed a direct path to the palace. Those who occupied the ships of grandeur were always from noble birth or royal blood, and thus strayed away from the harbour which often smelt like the innards of a mackerel.
He couldn't quite work out why the ship apprehensively edged closer and closer toward the embankment, his view forlorn from the bested height of the hill. It seemed familiar - like one of his father's battalion ships from many years back, the wood of the vessel bearing a deep, rich, brown. The sails billowed in the wind like a giant bird of prey, but they were a glaring hue of emerald instead of the usual alabaster and cherry of the kingdom's signet. He must've maintained watch of the ship for ten minutes, his eyebrows scrunching together as it anchors far away from the port, as though it had no intention to venture inland.
It was a frustrating perch in which his eyes found themselves fixated. While his mind had dallied in far off places as of late, his time as the king in waiting saw him oversee all the visits the kingdom would receive within the coming months - and none bore the sails of emerald. Curious.
His heart softened as he squinted his eyes, the hull of the ship floating about the quay as though it had decided to spend the night there. Jisung felt something penetrate his amygdala, as though a brash idea came bounding into focus - a glaringly obvious error in research that he was yet to even consider. He felt conflicted. The just half of his brain telling him that it was an unruly idea fuelled by the delusions which plagued him. But the other half saw it as an opportunity, the only opportunity, to reach the very place in the universe where the entirety of his heart existed.
Glancing back at his best friends, now laid alongside one another as they gazed up at the rolling clouds above, Jisung frowned once more - the shaking in his chest lulling a sense of fear and pain into his heart. He knew what he had to do.
Naturally, he spent the remainder of the afternoon laid about the fields of the orchard with Hyunjin and Felix, wanting to soak up whatever time together they could. The younger of the three seemed tickled that the prince seemed to calm down and enjoy a lick of laughter. The oldest focused his glare, the change far too out of the ordinary for him to accept.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Jisung finalised the last signature to the once blank sheet of paper. A message to his uncle; glad to be a far distance from his self-satisfied eyes when they skim over the contents of it. He nodded to himself, no time to spare as he cantered himself by the candlelight, rustling about with his leather satchel laid about on his father's desk. He didn't pack more than required. His notebook, the map, a compass embellished in gold with a sapphire needle. He was sure to include the curved blade that reflected the dwindling flame. The hilt was adorned in rubies and blackened iron, a direct contrast with the gleaming silver of the blade. The weight bore the strength and resolve of his father and grandfather - the two previous owners of such an artefact. It meant more to him in this moment than it ever did. He sheathed it into the leather grip and attached it to his thick belt, confident enough with his skillset to proceed.
He grasped the scroll of freshly dried ink, hoping it wouldn't be necessary if his estimations were correct. For the first time in weeks, he felt a looming sense of hope, and nothing on this green earth would possess him to let it slip through his grasp.
It was an immense gamble, and while Jisung felt a little perturbed by the finality of his actions as he seals the wax and stamps his personal signet to enclose the letter to his uncle, he reminded himself that he was not one to shy from a challenge.
With a pert nod as he hikes the satchel further upward across his chest and edges down to blow out the lamp. Cloaked and ready, Jisung fled the palace, being sure to keep a lowered head in averting the attention of the guards. Clad in nothing short of black boots, white blouse with added cravat tucked tightly into his brown breeches - an utter revolution from the usual silk cloth and velvet coats he frequented the palace walls in. He needn't remind himself of the stark juxtaposition posing as a wandering nomad possessed, turning away the gaze of any traders and townspeople he saw in passing, satisfied that he blended into the crowd of his subjects a little too well.
His boots scuffed along the stone paths that connected between cottages, the quiet of the town pressing into slumber, and away from the labours of the day. He found himself stood at the mouth of the port, light winds blowing what little black hair exposed itself out of his dark brown cloak. The ship remained - its emerald sails reefed, and lamplight glowed on the small porthole west of the vessel body. He knew in his heart of hearts that this was the best course of action… that edging into the unknown would bring him closer to finding the answers he needed.
The simmering anxiety balled at the base of his throat swelled and pulled. His hands shook that little bit as he climbed down the oak ladder to the makeshift pier completely abandoned of rowdy sailors and pushy salesmen. The creaks of the wood beneath his black boots echoed into his ears, the small waves providing an insufficient ambiance for the harkened task ahead of him.
"Walk into the sea, grasp the verity." He mutters his grandfather's mantra, removing his hood as he edges nearer and nearer to the oaken rowboat docked at the end of the pier. His mind whispered fool but his heart pushed him further and further toward throwing himself into the proverbial deep end.
The crackle of wood behind him despite his instilled position at the edge of the pier startled Jisung to his core. The hairs of neck stood up and his hands shook more than usual. Instinctively he placed a hand on the grip connected to his belt, the hilt of his dagger. His heart soared. The brevity of his mistakes catching up to him now. The calamity and ruin of a prince of Jisung's stupidity hardly garnered any pity of the man. He simply rocked on his heel and turned around to face his fate.
"Ji?" The voice whispered, a darkened hood casted over his shoulder-length hair, his wiry spectacles reflecting the moon. Jisung drops his grasp on the weapon immediately. He too, had a satchel borne to his skinny frame, the taller man beside him carrying the brunt of their shared cargo on his back.
Jisung's eyes didn't relent in welling with a rush of hot tears.
"What… What are you both doing?" He almost seethes, his voice still hushed despite his desire to scream at the top of his lungs.
"What are you doing?" Hyunjin hits back, his beige linen coat clung to the similar cloth and boots he wore most days. His hair was tied with a ribbon to the back of his head and two rebellious strands of hair met at the expanse of his temples.
"I…" Jisung's eyes wander to the docked ship in the middle of the harbour.
"You…" He tilts his head to the side. "You're about to do something stupid, is that it?"
Jisung gulps down a hot ball of pent-up anxiety.
"You were following me?" He whispers, reaching a hand upward to grasp the leather strap of his caramel-coloured satchel.
"Ji." Felix steps forward, his eyes desperately seeking guidance in the glassy chasm of Jisung's irises. "Is this reasonable?"
"R-Reasonable?" The prince stutters, a tear almost befalling from his waterline at the very sight of his best friend so worried. He truly wondered if this was the brink of his sanity and the man before him was trying to pull him from it. "I haven't heard reason since I received the news."
Hyunjin clears his throat as he too steps closer to the wallowing mess of a man, geared for escape.
"Who is on that ship?" He bites down on his thick bottom lip tinged with pinkness in the moonlight.
"It is none of your concern." Jisung shakes his head before landing his gaze back on Felix. "Either of you."
"That's one of your father's ships. A battalion from seven or so years ago." The bespectacled lad glares at the prince, his endless memory not skimming past the curtain of mystery Jisung sheathed over them. "It lacks the royal signet but beyond that, it is almost an exact make."
"So…" The cogs in Hyunjin's head were working overtime in placing the pieces together. "So… whomever is aboard that vessel has taken juncture of one of your father's old ships?"
"Not just any vessel." Felix tilts his head to the side as he observes the quiet glances Jisung pressed to the ground. "It's the Minotaur."
The prince squeezes his eyes shut hearing the name aloud.
"You really are crazy." Hyunjin's eyes widen, stepping closer to his best friend of all these years. "You were going to row out there to your death had we not stopped you."
"I was going to negotiate." Jisung places a hand on his strap once more, standing up a little straighter. "This is it. This is the way to go."
"A ship of raiders who pillage and destroy everything in their path? What are they even doing at our port?" Felix grunts, the moonlight in his lenses subsiding to centre the darkness in his eyes. "Ji…"
"I'm going." He lets out, his chest rising and falling at exponential speed. "I-I have a plan. I have a clear vision of what I need to do and there's nowhere left for me to turn."
The two sets of eyes stare blankly at him.
"I will not be able to live as I rot on that throne, knowing my father and mother are still out there, and doing nothing about it." His breath stutters. "I can only live in knowing I tried."
Jisung flinches as he feels a hand on his shoulder.
"Please Lix," he whispers to the smartest man he knew. "Go back to your home. It is freezing tonight, and you'll catch a cold if you stay out any longer."
The younger man smiles lightly, squeezing his angular bone.
"If you will not see reason, you leave us no choice." He murmurs, the strange deepness in his voice perturbed the very crux of Jisung's soul. "We're coming with you."
"No, you're not." The prince takes a step back. "You will get yourself killed."
"You have a better chance of survival if I am on board with you." Hyunjin knits his eyebrows together, as though he were trying to articulate the surging thoughts in his mind.
"I can look after myself."
"Sure." Hyunjin resorts a smirk, hitching up the black leather knapsack on his back. "If you are going to be daft, at least let us help you reign it in."
Jisung pauses, his eyes not knowing where to land.
"Truly," He whispers as he glances between the two men who held his heart and soul in this very moment. "I will not be able to live with myself if either of you are hurt by this."
"It won't get to that." Felix gleams, holding off on the fear he felt turbulent within the sanctity of his core. "Like Jinnie said, there is a better chance of survival if we are together."
The prince bites his lip, unsure of how to proceed, and completely unfettered in logic. He couldn't be more devoid of any foundational principles which bore his family name. Instead, he sought the desperation and warmth in the eyes of his best friends.
Walk into the sea, grasp the verity.
It didn't take too long for the three of them to share an embrace and shakily venture upon the rowboat and into dark waters. The hull of the ship glistened in the fading light, and as they edged closer, Felix couldn't help but gulp at the towering mast that seemed to reach the sky.
Hyunjin had a clenched jaw and the stance of a warrior, relentlessly remaining in silence as Jisung veered the small vessel closer and closer. All that could be heard was the lapping of the waves against the bass of the ship. His eyes centred upon the sails, made of rich emerald fabric, and tucked in tight against the mast. The colour he noted earlier in the day was much more muted at this time, but they held a certain vibrancy that harkened on the intriguing. It swayed with the ebb and flow of the tide.
The youngest of the three adjusted his glasses as he silently observed the weathered and worn oak of the hull and the cannons which spore from the four chasms littered along the side. Strategically, they aimed their rowboat to the east of the vessel, and away from the lantern that signified a sign of life on board. Jisung's heart stuttered as he noticed the ladder of maple and rope, more than distressed from the unrelenting waves and time assumed at sea.
He had lost that little angel that sung songs of reason and rationality in his brain as he stood to his feet, balancing upon the rocky waves that pressed the underside of the rowboat.
"Follow my lead and let me do the talking." Jisung whispers, a shaky index finger pressed against his lips. "I have a plan. But if it fails, the two of you will leave me and flee back to land."
"Ji-"
"Please." His eyes were desperate.
Hyunjin and Felix glanced between themselves, less than ignorant to the impending feeling of doom resonant in their chests.
"Okay." Hyunjin nods, pressing his lips into a fine line to put on the bravest face for his best friend. He would never abandon Jisung - not matter how dire, but he knew the word would soothe him all the same.
He translates a semblance of a smile before shakily leaning forward and pressing his weight against the rope ladder hugging the curvature of the ship. His resolve hadn't faltered since he heard the news. He wanted more than anything to be less than the scared little boy he always felt residual in him. He wanted to show his family - show his kingdom - that if he were to find anything on this great expanse of blue and salt, he'd find the treasure that painted the western sky in his heart.
His feet moved on their own, his mind too occupied with trying to soothe the ardent mumbling of stress and the voice in his head telling him to turn back. With one swift glance beneath him at the crashing waves which burdened their rowboat and the very fact that Hyunjin and Felix were etching up the rope right behind him, Jisung felt comfort in the core of his chest.
Yet, as he peered his gaze over the moment in which the hull and deck of the ship meet, his gaze fixates on the barrel of a flintlock pistol pointed directly between his eyes. What perturbed him beyond the beckoning fractal of being held at gun point, his life-force fading away with every rise and fall of his chest, was the face of the man with the pistol in his grip.
Jisung didn't have time to extenuate the specifics. His jaw and nose were delicately angular, as though carved through stone and etched with lacquer. He had a black patch over his left eye - his right, however, bore a darkness akin to evil as it stared back at him as though he were a lamb dropped in the den of a lion. His lips full and pink smirked.
"What a mistake you've made."