Page 7 of Reign of the Talon
Rui stiffens, narrowing his eyes. “Oursoldiers,” he corrects icily, but inside, he is worried. Chan has taken up his wartime position as Supreme Commander. As thus, his power over Rui’s army is considerable. Should Rui die in battle, the troops will be solely reliant upon Kim Chan. And although that is not the caseyet, Rui has not missed the way his soldiers look up to the Supreme Commander. Respect him, admire him both as a Dokkaebi and as a soldier. If Chan is spreading discontent amongst Gyeulcheon’s militia, Rui will need to deal with it. Deal withhim.He pins Chan down with a stare.
His commander is grieving; Rui can understand that as he, too, feels the useless organ in his chest crack and rupture and fissure every moment of every damn day. But if Chan’s way of mourning his lover poses a risk to this war, if his grief leads to hurried decisions and actions fueled not by strategy but by foolhardy haste, Rui will not hesitate to slap sense into him. If he is forced to demote Chan, he will.
But not yet. Chan is his strongest fighter, trained by his father, Kim Joonghoo—a revered combatant, one that has made his way into Dokkaebi myths and legends. Rui pins Chan with a stare a moment longer.Know your place, he tells him through firm lips and hard eyes.
Chan inhales sharply. “Fine,” he eventually spits out, but Rui knows that what he really means is,All of this is your fault. Hana warned you from the very start that getting involved with that human girl was a stupid choice.
His hands curl at his sides. It takes a glorious amount of effort to remind himself that pummeling the wounded is most typically frowned upon.
“Fine,” Rui retorts sharply and turns back to Kang. “I meet with Empress Moon of Wyusan tonight.” The warrior-empress knows to expect him. Since Lina took Sunpo, they have been exchanging correspondences: urges to prepare for invasion from the Dokkaebi met with Moon Dahee’s curt replies that although she is readying her army, she’s hopeful the Dokkaebi will stop “this snake-girl” (as she put it) from reaching her kingdom.
Even when Rui sent Kang to warn her that Prophecies are always fulfilled—andquickly, if there is nobody honorable enough to at least try to oppose them—Empress Moon did not sway, confident that the Dokkaebi would find an early triumph, citing an ancient battle between Sunpo and Wyusan in which the Sunpo army quickly perished on Habaek’s River and the Yaepak Mountain Range.
“I will not join this war until it reaches my lands,” Empress Moon had apparently explained to Kang.
The emperor knows he cannot blame Moon for her folly—she does not yet understand the wrath and ruin the Prophecy will reap, even against the powerful Dokkaebi. Yet he has, on multiple occasions, wished that Manpasikjeok was not broken. That he could bend Wyusan and Bonseyo’s stubborn minds to his will. For Bonseyo is even worse than Wyusan, ignoring Gyeulcheon’s many missives entirely in favor of sorting out their own inner war between the members of the Jeon Dynasty who have a tendency to stab each other in the back. Their inanity is staggering. Their kingdom is poised to be taken in a war that they ignore in favor of their ownfamily feuds.
Or perhaps they have already accepted their demise and turn to petty squabbles as a distraction. He has never fully understood the way of mortals. And, he thinks, he never will.
Rui should pay the Jeons a visit as well, but for now, Empress Moon is the priority. The Prophecy is closer to her kingdom, and her forces are larger in number, more organized. Rui, to be honest, doubts Bonseyo’s value as a lender of aid. They are unstable, both internally and externally.
Now that the Prophecy has almost reached the Wyusan Wilderness, Wyusan’s empress will recognize the necessity of joining power with Gyeulcheon to stand against the Prophecy. And Gyeulcheon, as much as it pains Rui to admit it, needs reinforcements, human or otherwise. A good number of warriors have been felled by Imugi venom. At the very least, the human soldiers will provide a distraction.
Rui closes his eyes. He hates war. He hates that it forces him to think this way, equivalating human life todistractions.
Kang is watching him warily. He can feel it, the scrutinizing gaze tracing his face, his stooped shoulders. Yet Rui is suddenly too damn tired to hide how he is slightly unsteady on his feet, or to even attempt to smooth the fatigue etched upon his visage. The cause of his insomnia is not just this great and terrible war, the haunting bloodshed and broken battles.
It is the Prophecy.
It is what she has done to Lina’s body—a terrible, ghastly violation.
This war, it is futile.
Yet it is not the Dokkaebi way to stand idly by as Imugi ravage the mortal realm of Iseung. It is nothisway. Amidst the wounded and dying, Rui reminds himself of that.
“Shall I come with you to meet with Empress Moon?” Kang asks carefully as Rui opens his eyes. His advisor turns back to Chan and finishes the final stitch. As soon as the needle leaves his flesh, Chan scowls and abruptly stands, grabbing his undershirt and shoving past Kang and Rui. Both Dokkaebi watch the Supreme Commander storm out of the ballroom toward his daily meetings with the generals and cavalries. Chan’s body quivers with suppressed energy, and Rui’s lips thin.
That energy, it is dark. It is dangerous. He recognizes it, for it is the same sort of energy that churns within the Prophecy.
This does not bode well, Rui thinks with a heavy heart.
“Rui?” prompts Kang. “Shall I accompany you to Wyusan?”
“No,” the emperor replies quietly as the ballroom doors slam shut once again. “You’re needed here.” He pretends not to see the hurt and shame that flickers across Kang’s face. Once, his advisor’s presence by his side would not even be in question. “Keep an eye on Chan. Ensure that he…stays in line.”
Kang bows his head in promise, focusing on this small step forward. A hollow bitterness—regret—lingers in his eerily wise eyes. Rui looks away from the dark shadows beneath them. “I— Yes. I will.”
Rui nods and hesitates. For a moment, he is tempted to clasp Kang by the shoulder, as he always did in farewell before…
Before.
But a moment later, Rui departs in a swirl of shadows.
And something withers deep inside of him.
CHAPTER THREE
The Prisoner
