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1. Sa-mo
"Ah hyeongnim". Sa-mo shook his head in consternation, his eyes moist with emotion. "What was he thinking?"
Sitting at the large table, Dong-soo carefully read the letter Gwang-taek had left behind for Sa-mo, the last of five blood brothers sworn to a Crown Prince. Master's neat calligraphy and messages for those he loved, those who loved him, were all that remained to them now. Words of comfort, words for them to live by, but all Dong-soo could hear were echoes of regret.
Both of you are similar in a lot of ways, it is possible for you two to be husband and wife.
Despite the pain of his uncle's passing, Dong-soo felt a faint, sad smile curve his lips. "He was thinking that you and Auntie Jang-mi should live out your days together, in happiness", he replied, turning the letter back over to Sa-mo's keeping.
Auntie had always held a soft spot for Heuk Sa-mo. Who in turn had been determined to remain steadfastly ignorant. Perhaps in losing the woman he loved, and through his own painful, personal defeats, this was Gwang-taek's way to show his brother Sa-mo that the love of a good person to accompany him through the remainder of the years was to be cherished, not pushed away.
Dong-soo's own heart beat a little faster as he pondered on Master's final encouragement to Sa-mo.
Both of you are similar in a lot of ways. You should live out your days together, to the envy of others.
2. Cho-rip
"What will you do now?" Hong Guk-yeong peered across at Dong-soo with Yang Cho-rip's curious eyes.
"Travel," Dong-soo answered, simply, taking another sip of rice wine. Kim Gwang-taek had wandered for Qing for many years and written a martial arts book while there. Dong-soo wanted to do the same for Prince Yi San, who had commissioned a similar book.
"He told me to check the small details," Cho-rip said, staring somewhere over Dong-soo's shoulder. "Each time. Before I do anything. He said it must become my habit."
Dong-soo nodded and set down his cup. "You'll do well at His Highness' side," he told his friend, mustering a warm smile. His heart still felt heavy at Gwang-taek's loss, perhaps time away from Hanyang would do him good and allow his mind to clear.
"Sword Saint...he wasn't an uncle, or any relative," Cho-rip continued, as if amazed, "and yet he left me a letter. He mentioned the Defence Minister too. Do you think he...?"
His voice trailed off, his face set in speculation.
"I think he meant that you must carefully watch over the Prince Heir," Dong-soo finished, gently. He was certain Gwang-taek wouldn't try to pit Cho-rip against Hong Dae-ju, of all people. Cho-rip was still so innocent in so many ways. "But if something happens, you must come and find me."
It would take more than a clever mind, an attention to details, or even a skillful sword, to overcome the threats that Prince Yi San would face in his lifetime. It would take all of them, together, to keep the Prince Heir safe.
Gwang-taek had said he thought to protect Prince Yi San until the day he died, and Dong-soo had answered that he felt the same.
Yet thinking of Woon's fierce look that day as he charged, determined to kill the Prince, Dong-soo was beginning to wonder, what might it eventually cost to keep that promise? And whether he was ready to pay it.
3. Mi-so
"I'm afraid you will be injured, so it would be better if you didn't learn martial arts...Dong-soo what bullshit is this?" Mi-so waved the letter that had offended her so and thumped down beside him with a harrumph.
"He just didn't want to see you get hurt." Dong-soo tried to appease her, but Mi-so folded her arms, crushing the letter.
"He couldn't take care of my father," she parroted. "He couldn't take care of me. He couldn't kill the man who killed my father. So what use is a sorry?"
She was angry, Dong-soo realised, about more than just an ajussi uncle. She had been born after Gwang-taek had left for Qing, and her father Jang Dae-pyo had taught her alongside the boys at Jang Yong Wi. Until one day she was gone, dragged down the mountain by her ear, by an auntie who had found a business for them to run. And quickly too, before she could begin to turn heads at the warrior camp.
"I'm..." Dong-soo caught himself. "The man who killed your father is dead. Jin-joo saw him die."
Mi-so turned to face him. "And what about when more like him come? Someone came to kill Ji-sun that night, I couldn't even defend myself. That man...he took the knife out of my hands and I couldn't do a thing. Should I just wait to see if I'm murdered or saved? Even Jin-joo has a bow and knows how to use a sword and that famous ajussi was her father."
He told her not to fight too, Dong-soo almost said, but didn't.
"Then...I need to save myself," Mi-so declared, seemingly set in her own mind as she jumped to her feet, the white paper twisted forgotten in one hand.
Dong-soo watched her leave, unable to repeat the warning words that martial arts could draw danger. The world they lived in was dangerous. Even the great Sword Saint eventually fell to a stronger sword. Dong-soo was determined to be there to protect her, to protect all his family, but he was coming to realise what an impossible task it was. Even if he achieved Master's dream and became the greatest swordsman the world had ever known, he couldn't be everywhere at once to keep them safe.
Instead, he could only admire Mi-so's desire to forge her future security and create a destiny of her own.
His thoughts, as they so often did, strayed to another whose lousy, so-called destiny Dong-soo wanted to crush in his hands.
4. Jin-joo
If tears could form a torrent, then Jin-joo's would make a flood. Losing her mother, then her father, in such a short time, it pained Dong-soo deeply to witness her deep and unrelenting grief.
Sitting down by the river, her eyes bright and her cheeks stained with fresh tears, her father's letter to her was crushed to her chest like a balm. They sat like that for a while, until she slowly came to herself enough to acknowledge his presence alongside her.
"He wanted to call my name," she told him, her voice weary and hoarse from grief. "And to see me wed. I wanted to hold his hand and bring him warm food, but he had to leave. Why, Dong-soo, why did he leave like that?"
As her face twisted and she began sobbing anew, Dong-soo realised he didn't have an answer. He could only stare out at the flowing waters and bear witness to her pain, helpless to offer her any comfort.
Banwi, Cho-rip had said. Master was already dying when he went to confront his foe and he had told Dong-soo not to wait for him...
"He told me he didn't want me to continue to fight," Jin-joo said, after a while, in a calmer voice. "My mother was a skilled swordswoman. And he...my father was a great martial artist."
"The best in Joseon," Dong-soo added, thinking the accolade might bring some consolation.
"Then how?" She demanded, with a frustrated, bewildered look. "How can I turn away from my parents' legacy? Why would he ask that of me?"
Thinking back to the night before the Prince Heir's pilgrimage, Kim Gwang-taek had confessed many things.
"He told me he wished he had used his sword to only protect those he loved," Dong-soo told her.
Jin-joo stared for a moment, then her gaze wandered over the river, thinking. She looked down at the letter, crumpled in her damp hand and slowly began to smooth it out, nodding as she did so.
"Then that is what I will do," she promised. "I will fight to protect the people I love."
She gave him a tremulous smile, wiped her sleeve across her eyes and carefully slipped the now neatly folded letter into her shirt.
Again, words gave rise to Dong-soo's own thoughts and he glanced at his hands, turning the calloused palms upwards. Master had bequeathed to him a solemn and sacred duty; to protect the King and the Prince Heir, to keep Joseon safe from her enemies.
But he was beginning to glimpse the feelings behind Master's regretful words to him that night. Deep down and above such important duty, Dong-soo too wanted to keep the ones he loved at his side, always.
5. Woon
Master had left many things for Dong-soo, but killing the man who had killed Kim Gwang-taek was not one of them. Nor was it to be. Dong-soo's heart hadn't been in the fight, despite Mi-so's pleading. He had just been...sad.
After he was gone, Gwang-taek had left instructions with Sa-mo that, should he fall, Dong-soo must examine his scars from the battle. Kneeling to look at the strips of ugly, rent flesh on Gwang-taek's remains, Dong-soo saw that a body, even one as powerful as Kim Gwang-taek, could die at the stroke of a blade.
Perhaps Sa-mo thought Dong-soo would learn important strategies to finally defeat the enemy; the way the man swung his sword, which weak points he would aim for, how he angled his weapon.
But Gwang-taek's last teaching to Dong-soo was simply that all of them were mortal and death but a little way away. And perhaps a step closer for those who chose to wield a blade.
It was Auntie Jang-mi who handed Dong-soo a final letter as he sat outside the house, reflecting on what had been etched onto his uncle's body at the end. Jang-mi was slightly sheepish and overly curious, but she left him alone to read.
It wasn't a letter for Dong-soo. They had shared many words before Master had gone to confront his foe and that had been enough. Gwang-taek's wisdom, his generous teachings, were enough for a lifetime of reflection.
Now it is already your world. Words said by someone no longer looking forward.
Dong-soo unfolded the letter and his eyes widened as he saw the name at the top. Woon. Uncle had left a message for Woon.
Quickly unfolding the rest of the paper, Dong-soo's eyes greedily scanned the page.
I'm sorry I arrived too late to guide my brother Cho-sang's son and could only send you off in the hope you would one day return to us.
Dong-soo blinked. His eyes blurred and watered too easily these days since Master's death, but he recalled the night where Gwang-taek had bade Woon 'go', even as Dong-soo pleaded with him 'stay'. Was Gwang-taek admitting he believed Woon would return from Heuksa Chorong?
Dong-soo clutched at the letter like a lifeline. For so many years, it had felt like he was the only person who wanted Woon to escape that blood drenched destiny and come back to them. The only one who saw that Woon was a good person, with a good heart. Sa-mo had never spoken of it, seemingly disappointed that Woon had left them twice over. But their uncle...had Gwang-taek also hoped, as Dong-soo had hoped...?
A killing nature does not make a martial artist. Neither does it make a man a killer. I believe you will seek and find the answer to the riddle the Sky Lord of Heuksa Chorong poses to his disciples; what is the difference between a warrior and an assassin.
Hwalingeom, Gwang-taek had called it, as he instructed Dong-soo to find that same balance. A sword that takes lives, in order to save lives. Had Woon, always that much sharper, always that much further ahead of Dong-soo, discovered its secrets first? Though Woon had ridden against Prince Yi San, as their uncle had pointed out he had failed to kill anybody. Strange for an assassin with such a killer nature.
There was little I could teach you, so do not feel resentful that I chose Dong-soo as my disciple. You and I are much alike. Alone, you have accomplished much. You are both like my sons. Find a way to return to those who love you.
The paper shook lightly in his hand and Dong-soo glanced up to the distant mountains without seeing them.
You must help him come home, Gwang-taek had instructed Dong-soo.
It wouldn't be easy. The Prince Heir would not easily forget the face of the man who tried to strike him down and Heuksa Chorong did not release its denizens without violence and bloodshed. Woon himself had promised Dong-soo he would become Joseon's greatest assassin.
Looking down at the letter one more time, Dong-soo folded the paper and slipped it into his clothes for safekeeping. Kim Gwang-taek had bequeathed many things to Dong-soo. He had taught him patience, strength and accuracy, skills for all Joseon weaponry and martial arts without equal.
But perhaps in leaving a simple letter, sparse of words, it would become his most precious gift of all.
END