"Guardian."

A familiar voice stopped Cheon Seong in his tracks as he was on his way to meet Kyeongseon Joon. He turned to see Norahn standing at the bend in the tunnel, his head bowed respectfully. Seong nodded in acknowledgment. Norahn straightened, his expression suggesting he had something important to say.

"Speak," Seong said.

"May I have a word with you in private?" Norahn asked.

"Of course," Seong replied. "Go to my chambers and wait for me. I'll be there shortly."

Norahn bowed and disappeared down the tunnel.

Despite his casual agreement, Seong felt a weight settle on his chest. Lately, every request for a private audience filled him with dread, a premonition of impending disaster. Perhaps that was why he had been spending so much time with Joon. Their sparring sessions offered a much-needed respite from the constant worry and uncertainty. Joon's wooden sword was a predictable opponent, its movements a reflection of Seong's own. He had hoped that the physical exertion would help him forget harsh words of the Guardian Crimson, her accusations of his unworthiness. But it was a futile attempt to escape the truth. With a sigh, he turned towards his chambers.

Norahn rose from his seat as Seong entered, bowing his head in greeting. Seong sat down opposite him.

"A lot of private conversations lately," he remarked, a wry smile playing on his lips. "It seems everyone has so many secrets from each other."

Norahn froze. Though Seong couldn't possibly know about his encounter with the Guardian Crimson, the weight of his hidden secret pressed down on him, making even a harmless jest feel like an accusation. He remained silent. Seong, sensing his distress, regretted his words.

"The High Councilor has returned to Nahmgyo," he said, changing the subject. "He'll be away for a few days. It seems the princess arrives at Hyangdo tomorrow."

Norahn, who hadn't seen Ryang since his meeting with the Guardian Crimson, felt a wave of relief that Ryang hadn't summoned him.

"It seems the island will be quite busy for a while," he remarked.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," Seong said with a reassuring smile. "He will handle it."

His smile faltered as he noticed a thin, red scar on Norahn's neck. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the mark. It wasn't deep, but its location was unusual, and the rawness of the wound suggested it was recent.

"What happened to your neck?" he asked.

Norahn hastily tried to cover the wound. "It's nothing," he mumbled.

"Nothing?" Seong echoed, pushing Norahn's hand aside and examining the cut. His instincts told him it was more than just a scratch. "It looks like a blade wound. Who did this to you?"

Norahn remained silent.

"What happened?" Seong pressed. "You can tell me. You didn't do this to yourself, did you?"

Norahn's jaw tightened. "Please, Guardian," he pleaded. "do not ask."

"You have a cut on your neck, and you expect me not to ask?!" Seong's voice rose with concern.

"It's an internal matter of the Ministry," Norahn said.

Seong's frustration grew. Even Ryang, who often clashed with the Ministry of the Emissary Divine, respected their autonomy. Seong himself rarely interfered in their affairs. He backed off, respecting the boundary Norahn had drawn. But Norahn's tense expression and evasive answers worried him.

"I know there's no one in Wicheong who would do this to you," Seong said, his voice softening. "But you need to talk to someone about this. If you don't want to tell anyone else, tell me. I'll do what I can to help."

"Your concern is enough, Guardian," Norahn replied.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. Seong's kindness, so unexpected and genuine, contrasted sharply with the dark secret he was hiding. He reminded himself that his loyalty now belonged to the Guardian Crimson, not to Cheon Seong. It was Sahngjon's will. But Seong's warmth was hard to resist. Norahn averted his gaze, his eyes stinging.

"Thank you for your concern, Guardian," he said. "But I need to attend to some matters."

Norahn turned his head, and the loosened collar of his robe slipped slightly, revealing a gruesome scar that Seong had never noticed before. It was large and jagged, unlike any ordinary wound.

"What happened to you?" Seong asked, gently pulling back Norahn's collar to examine the scar.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Norahn averted his gaze, his hand instinctively reaching to cover the mark. "It's an old injury from my childhood," he mumbled.

"What could have caused such a scar?" Seong pressed.

Norahn remained silent, his evasiveness fueling Seong's suspicions. Seong reached out and grabbed his collar. Norahn flinched.

"What are you doing, Guardian?"

"Let me see."

"It's nothing, really."

"Let me see," Cheon Seong repeated, his voice firm.

He pulled Norahn's robe open, exposing his shoulder and chest. Norahn, unaccustomed to such exposure, gasped, his cheeks flushing. Seong's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Norahn's body was covered in scars, some thin and pale, others thick and discolored, the remnants of severe burns. Is this why Norahn had been avoiding him, avoiding any close contact?

"What are these?" Seong demanded. "When did this happen? Your neck, these scars... what's going on?"

Norahn remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Is this another internal matter of the Ministry?" Seong pressed.

"Guardian."

"If you don't want to tell me, just say so," Seong said. "I won't pry."

"It's not that I don't want to tell you," Norahn stammered.

"It was the Emissaries, wasn't it?" Seong asked.

Norahn's expression confirmed his suspicions. "These trials... they open my eyes and ears," he explained. "It's not just me. All High Emissaries had endured this. Please don't concern yourself."

"What are you talking about?" Seong exclaimed. "Open your eyes and ears?"

"That's what I was taught," Norahn replied.

"That's absurd!"

Seong's anger burned hotter than any Norahn had ever known. It was a rage that Norahn, in his years of obedience, had never experienced. He had accepted his fate, his past suffering now woven into the fabric of his being. Norahn's words, filled with cryptic justifications, fell on deaf ears. The sight of those scars fueled Seong's rage. He felt a pang of guilt for his ignorance, for not seeing the pain that had been hidden in plain sight. Norahn's youthful appearance made it all too easy to imagine the boy he once was, writhing in pain.

"You endured this?" Seong spat.

"This is my fate," Norahn replied. "To endure unimaginable pain and be reborn as the High Emissary Divine."

Seong's face twisted in disgust. He let out a hollow laugh, his body shaking with a mixture of anger and despair. "You should never have returned to this place," he said. "Look at you. What have they done to you?"

Even faced with this painful reminder of his past, Norahn remained calm. "Even if it had taken a lifetime," he said, "I would have found my way back to Wicheong."

"Why are you so certain?"

"Because you are here, Guardian. Everything that surrounds you is part of Sahngjon's plan. The High Councilor, myself, the Crimson Star... all of it. Sahngjon lives. He would not allow one who bears the destiny of the High Emissary Divine to escape his will."

"I wish it were all a lie," Seong confessed. "Sahngjon, the prophecy, and her... it would be better for everyone if none of it were true."

"Guardian."

"So many have suffered because of me," Seong continued, his voice breaking. "So many have been hurt, have died. I'm just trying to live up to their expectations, to play the role of Guardian."

"Don't say that, Guardian."

"Don't you resent Sahngjon?" Seong asked, his voice filled with a quiet rage. "Why are you so obedient?"

"Resentment is not an emotion I'm allowed to feel," Norahn replied. "It is the duty of every Celestial Scions to obey the will of Sahngjon."

"That duty took your mother's life," Seong spat. "Yes, it was a matter of the Ministry, but everyone in Wicheong knows what happened."

"There is no escaping our fate," Norahn said flatly. "How can we, with our limited human minds, comprehend the will and plan of Sahngjon?"

Norahn's resignation was more than despair; it was surrender. Seong recognized the feeling, but it only fueled his anger.

"I can't obey," he said. "I just want to be free."

The chilling words of the Guardian Crimson echoed in Norahn's ears: He merely separates the grain from the chaff. Seong was faltering. But Norahn knew that Cheon Hwan, wherever he was, wouldn't be angered by the countless scars on Norahn's body.

"The only way to escape this fate," Norahn said firmly, "is to fulfill the prophecy of the Azure Scripture."

Seong's eyes, filled with a quiet despair, met Norahn's. "And then will I be free?"

"I don't know what lies beyond the prophecy," Norahn admitted. "But perhaps the Guardian Crimson does."

Seong's expression remained troubled.

"Perhaps you should speak with her yourself," Norahn suggested.

"Is that why you wanted to see me?" Seong asked.

"It is."

"I doubt she would want to speak with an unworthy Guardian," Seong said.

"You are the rightful Guardian," Norahn insisted. "Who dares question your worthiness?"

"Your duty is to listen to the voice of Sahngjon. You shouldn’t ignore the words of the Guardian Crimson." Seong replied.

Norahn's heart sank, but he maintained his composure. "Saㅗngjon is testing you, Guardian," he said. "You must endure these trials, remain steadfast in your faith."

A bitter laugh escaped Seong's lips. Norahn looked at him, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Why do you laugh?"

"You sound like Ryang," Seong remarked.

"Both he and I serve you, Guardian," Norahn replied. "Though I don't always agree with his methods, I do not doubt his loyalty."

"Nor do I," Seong said, his gaze softening. "I trust you both."

His words, filled with warmth and sincerity, pierced through Norahn's defenses. He felt a lump forming in his throat, tears threatening to spill. He struggled to maintain his composure.

"Guardian," he said.

"Speak."

"Please fulfill the prophecy."

Seong stared at him, his face etched with surprise. Norahn's voice grew more desperate. "Do it for me," he pleaded. "My freedom lies at the end of that prophecy."

His eyes flickered with a blue light. Seong remained silent, unable to offer any comfort, any reassurance.