Cheol turned the hairpin over in his hands. The candlelight glinted off of it, and Cheol could only think of how well it would suit Min-jun. Although, Cheol doubted there was anything in this world that could diminish Min-jun’s beauty.
“West bank of the Hyeol-aeg River. Five miles southwest. Cottage.”
What could it mean?
Cheol glanced out the window. Night had fallen not long ago. If he left now, he would be back before the morning assembly. And if he wasn’t . . . well, he’d just have to listen to another round of Hye-jin’s lecturing.
Cheol stood up from his desk and walked to his wardrobe in his sleeping quarters. There, hidden behind rows of ceremonial and casual robes, was a package wrapped in cloth. Inside, his commoner attire was neatly folded, its colors faded and a few of the hems frayed.
This much he could do on his own. Cheol slipped out of his nightclothes and into the commoner attire, wrapping a white bandana around his head. He looked like his younger self again, a boy raised by the streets. The boy who Min-jun had fallen in love with. And you won him over so easily as well. Cheol didn’t think it was quite fair.
. . .
The Hyeol-ag River looked pitch black in the night, walled in by trees on either side. The water sloshed up the sides of the boat Cheol was sitting in, the humidity clinging to his skin. Every now and then, patches of sky would seep through the cover of the trees, the moon stalking him on his mission. A chill hung in the air, bearing the uncertain time between autumn and winter.
“Stop here,” Cheol told the ferryman. He tossed the ferryman a few coins and went on his way. Most people would fear being in the forest so late at night, but Cheol did not mind it. He was more at home here than in the palace. Safer, too.
There is someone there. His Gift could sense the shift in the ground, though only faintly. There was no reason for Cheol to believe it was who he was looking for. Still, it did come from the place the note had told him to seek out.
“Could’ve given me more precise directions.”
The path cleared for him as he walked on. Nocturnal animals scraped across the forest floor and in the trees. Soon enough, the scent of woodsmoke alerted him. And then, light, where there was meant to be none. Someone was living this deep in the woods. Cheol slowly approached the source of the light and came across a small cabin. So, it does exist.
There was nothing extraordinary about the cabin, apart from its location deep inside the forest. Its thatched roof had holes in it, and in place of a door was a straw mat over the front of the house. He supposed being this deep in the woods had made the occupant quite bold.
As Cheol drew closer, the scent of brewed green tea and grilled meat wafted toward him. The vision of this cabin seemed to prod at his memory. He did not have long to ponder the familiarity, as a moment later, an old woman popped her head out from behind the straw mat.
“Well, what are you standing out there for? Come inside,” the old woman said, waving him over, her voice harsh and rasping.
Cheol tightened his hand on his sword, but followed her inside, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Inside, he was greeted with a thousand little artifacts sprawled out across the floor, hung up on the walls, lovingly categorized on shelves that could not hold them. I’ve seen these before, haven’t I? But why could he not quite grasp the memory?
“You knew I would come here.”
“I knew it would happen,” the old woman said. She was shorter than him, the top of her hair bun reaching just below his shoulder. Her hanbok had patches of mismatching cloth but appeared relatively well-kept aside from that.
She sat down behind a table with tea and snacks. “Didn’t know when. Sit down, boy. You’re making me quite nervous.”
Boy. It had been a long while since someone had addressed him so casually.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Tbe’gf Blw Vbb’r rbc,” rtf rjlv. “Ktf ybs Blcu.”
Vtf’v xcbkc tlr wbatfg? Jtfbi rabbv lc ogbca bo atf vfrx. “P tjnfc’a yffc j ybs Blcu obg j ibcu ktlif cbk.”
“Tbe klii jikjsr yf atja ybs ab wf,” atf biv kbwjc rjlv, oliilcu tfg meq klat klcf. “Vb, P jrrewf sbe’nf gfeclafv klat atja ybs sbe ibnfv.”
Min-jun. “How did you know?”
“Put down that sword, you’re gonna hurt someone with it,” the old woman said. “Don’t worry. I mean no harm to anyone in your circles. I don’t get involved in politics. I’m sure you can understand why.”
Reluctantly, Cheol placed his sword on the floor beside him and took his seat across from the woman. “You did not answer my question.”
“I know because I was the one who found you crying in the woods when you left him.”
“I have no recollection of such a thing.”
“Of course not,” the old woman said, pouring herself another cup of wine. Her and Min-jun would certainly get along. “That’s because you asked me to take your memories away.”
What? Being attacked and having his memories altered was one thing, but to do so willingly? Why would Cheol ever do something so reckless? The vague recollection of him and Sun fighting returned. The memories had faded, but certainly, they hadn’t been removed. The woman must be lying.
Cheol began to stand, only to recall the note from his past self. It had been important enough to write down, and yet he had no memory of this place. Perhaps she was telling the truth, at least partially.
“I knew you were reunited with him because you’ve been unlocking your memories. That’s why you are here after all. You’d been looking for that hairpin you gave him.”
“Sounds to me that you know more than you should,” Cheol said, his voice low. The threat did not even faze her.
She waved her hand at him, as she bit into the grilled meat she had laid out on the table. “Don’t blame me. Blame your blabbermouth. You couldn’t shut up about him. Perhaps it’s better that you keep your memories blocked for as long as possible.”
Cheol’s curiosity was piqued, as his suspicion subsided. He leaned in closer to the old woman. “So you block memories? Is it a Gift?”
“Is that what you call them? No, I have no Gift. All of my powers are gained from the things you see around you.”
Cheol glanced around the room at the hundreds of artifacts and trinkets: pieces of jewelry, musical instruments, masks. He had never heard of objects possessing magical characteristics.
“How do they become this way?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “Perhaps they belonged to people with, er, gifts, and their abilities infused their most precious possessions. Perhaps they were made by skilled workers and got their abilities that way. I’ve only learned to spot them, I do not know how they came to be that way.”
Incredible. All this time, Cheol has been gathering Gifted people, when he should’ve also been looking to gather magical artifacts. Objects were less temperamental than humans. This could prove . . . useful.
“Don’t you even think about stealing any of them,” the old woman said, wagging her finger at him. “You don’t even know what they do. You’ll end up with a missing limb before you figure it out.”
“Have you ended up with any missing limbs?”
“I’ve lost my kidney and two fingers, boy.”
“Oh.” Cheol glanced down at her hands. Sure enough, two of her fingers had been severed, leaving behind two ugly stumps that had never healed properly.
“This is not a happy profession, boy.”
Point taken. “Can my memories be returned to me?”
“In time, they’ll likely be unlocked on their own.”
“I want them back now.”
“That’s a stupid idea.”
The nerve of this woman . . . Cheol found he could respect it. A woman who had no fear of even the King.
“And why is that?” he asked her.
“Because with those memories, your feelings will also return, and guess what silly boy wasn’t willing to process those emotions properly in the first place!” She lowered her voice to a mumble. “Fool.”
“If you were so opposed to it, you could’ve refused to take them in the first place.” A glare was enough to silence his complaints. He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “I am not a child anymore. I’m sure whatever heartbreak I felt then, I will be able to better deal with it now. But I cannot go on with part of my memories blocked for an indeterminate amount of time.”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about this, boy?”
“Of course.” He smiled, reassuringly. “Besides, the heartache was caused by my separation from my loved one. I have him back now, so the heartache will disappear quickly.”
The old woman nodded, though with that grimace on her face he couldn’t be sure how close she was to actually agreeing with him. “I suppose that’s true.”
“So . . .”
“Very well, I will return your memories. On one condition.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t interrupt me.” She sat up a bit straighter, glancing up to the ceiling. “I need someone to fix my rooftop.”
“I can have someone look at it tomorrow.”
“What, are you too good for home repair now that you’re a King?” she asked, lips curling in disgust. “Acting like you’re better than the rest of us. Am I to wait until tomorrow when there is rain coming in a few hours?”
“The sky is clear, I’m sure it will not rain.”
She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest.“It will rain. I’ve lived in this forest long enough to know when it’s going to. You’re a little forest imp too. You should know these things.”
Cheol frowned. She knew about his abilities as well? “I’m not a forest imp.”
She waved her hand at him again. “Anyhow, if you want those memories back, you best get to it,” she said. “That roof’s not going to fix itself.”
She was keeping his memories hostage. She had even more nerve than he’d expected. Cheol took hold of his sword once more.
. . .
Altogether there were five holes in the thatched rooftop. Cheol’s hands had scratches on them from the dried straw and reeds used for the roof, and as he finished off the last patch, heavy droplets of rain began to slip between the trees. Just in time.
He jumped down from the roof and took cover from the rain in the house. The woman stood beneath where one of the holes had been and held out her hand to catch any rain that might seep through his ‘shoddy workmanship’. She nodded once, that grimace still creasing her face.
“Good,” she said. “Sit down. I’ve made you some tea.”
He did so, and the woman placed a book between them. Outside, branches creaked beneath the weight of the wind and rain.
“Here’s the deal, boy. This book holds your memories within it. If you read the words your younger self left to you, then your memories will be unlocked. Think of it as a chant to rid yourself of a trance.”
Cheol reached for the book, but the woman slammed her hand down on the cover.
“For the last time, are you sure you want to do this, boy?”
The caution in her tone made him pause. He thought of Hye-jin’s concern for him and his budding relationship with Min-jun. Of Sun’s apprehension and wariness. And then, finally, of Min-jun himself. His intelligent brown eyes, the softness of his smile, the cadence of his voice in Cheol’s ear. And I have forgotten so much of who you were once, my love. But Cheol knew that Min-jun had once laughed with ease.
“Yes.”
A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope this chapter made sense with all the talk of memories being blocked. It really is just a state of amnesia. Cheol was so heartsick that he blocked his own memories and emotions of his time with Min-jun, up until the point that the two of them reunited. But now he’s going to get them all back at once. Idk sounds like a great plan to me. If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment down below.
So he really was as devastated as Min-jun, maybe more! What a heartbreaking image, the way she said she found him. Did Min-jun have to fully process those emotions or did Mother take them away? Fascinating chapter!
Thank you for commenting! I hope you enjoy reading about cheol’s memories.
Thanks for the chapter! I’ve always wondered if Cheol really killed min juns family. It’ll be interesting to find out if he remembers it after he regains his memory.
Thank you for commenting! I hope you enjoy finding out the answers to your questions.
author, you better not make me cry. we better not have a To be or Not to be situation with the hairpin!!!!
Are you really one to talk???
excuse you 😤
Clozed is right. You’ve brought this upon yourself, domdom
Ahaha can’t for cheol to have his memories back… and for us to read about it
yes, i also cannot wait to write cheol in intense emotional pain. it’s gonna be a great time. thanks for commenting!