Ryang reached Seong''s chambers and entered with announcing himself. Seong sat at the table, a weary smile etched on his face. Ryang settled into the chair opposite him.


    "You should be resting," Seong spoke first. "You must be exhausted."


    "I can''t rest now. I have to oversee the funeral preparations." Ryang replied with a faint smile.


    Seong poured tea from the pot on the table, the fragrant steam swirling in the air. He handed Ryang a cup.


    "Seon seems to be growing more sharp, wouldn''t you agree?" Seong asked.


    Ryang''s expression faltered.


    "Don''t worry," Seong said reassuringly. "I''m not criticizing her. It''s just...surprising. It seems everyone is maturing, except me."


    "You have changed as well, Guardian. For the better." Ryang said.


    Seong remained silent, his gaze fixed on the swirling steam rising from his teacup. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken anxieties. Ryang finally broke it.


    "Perhaps," he said hesitantly. "We could forget about our earlier conversation."


    Seong''s smile was tinged with a bitter irony. "It''s absurd, isn''t it?" he asked. "The moment I mentioned disbanding, the star appeared. I believe Sahngjon is displeased with me."


    "We cannot be certain of the star''s true nature," Ryang said. "We must await the return of the High Emissary before interpreting Sahngjon''s will."


    "And yet you wish to disregard my earlier declaration? If Norahn returns and reports that the star is of no consequence, will you still hold me to my word?"


    "Guardian." Ryang began, his composure momentarily shaken by Seong''s playful challenge.


    Seong chuckled, his laughter a brittle sound that echoed through the room. He enjoyed seeing Ryang flustered, his usual composure replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. But the amusement quickly faded, his smile replaced by a somber expression.


    "My decision wasn''t made on a whim," he said.


    Seong’s gaze drifted towards the ceiling, his thoughts a distant echo in the quiet room. Ryang watched him, his heart aching for his friend. Seong''s struggles, his internal battles, were a silent burden he carried alone.


    "I understand," Ryang said with empathy.


    Seong remained silent.


    "I have a question," Ryang said.


    "What is it?"


    "What did you intend to do after disbanding?"


    Seong''s brow furrowed. "I thought we agreed to forget about that."


    "I’m just curious about the plans you had," Ryang said.


    Seong''s eyes met his. He took a sip of tea, then spoke.


    "I don''t know. Perhaps I would have left. I couldn''t stay on Birahng. I made that decision for them, for the people of Wicheong. But how could they forgive me, their lord, the one who shattered their dreams? I couldn''t bear their disappointment, their resentment. I''ve spent my life relying on you, Ryang, on your house. Perhaps it was time to repay that debt, to offer my services in return." He paused, a wry smile touching his lips. "I doubt you would turn me away."


    Ryang smiled slightly. Seong mirrored the expression. Then they both looked away. The silence that followed was heavy, the lighthearted banter of moments before a distant memory. The weight of their new reality pressed down on Seong.


    "Perhaps it would have been better if the star had appeared while my father was still alive," he mused. "He wasn''t as...weak as I am."


    "A weak man wouldn''t have made such a decision," Ryang said.


    "Then what am I?" Seong asked, his voice filled with self-doubt. "Selfish?"


    "Why do you think you''re selfish?"


    "Because," Seong hesitated. "Because I wanted to give up. I was tired. Still I am."


    Ryang couldn''t fault him for his perceived weakness, his perceived selfishness. The burden of leadership, the weight of their lineage, had never brought Seong joy. Had he been born an ordinary man, he wouldn''t have faced such impossible choices. Ryang understood his pain, shared his burden. He blinked back the memories that threatened to surface.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "Why now?" Seong wondered. "The prophecy never showed any signs of fulfillment during my father''s lifetime, nor during my grandfather''s, nor even in the time of our ancestors’ reign. They all yearned for the star''s appearance, yet Sahngjon remained silent, even as Wi fell, as our ancestors were slaughtered."


    "The timing of the star''s appearance, so soon after the late Guardian''s passing, is hardly a coincidence," Ryang said. "Our perception of time differs from Sahngjon''s. I believe this is a sign. Sahngjon''s will rests with you."


    Seong chuckled. "I never thought I''d hear you speak of Sahngjon''s will. Have you become a believer?"


    Ryang smiled faintly. "Let’s wait for return of the High Emissary before making such judgments."


    Ryang''s attempt at humor, as usual, fell flat. Seong studied his face. His features were sharp and refined, his demeanor exuding the same air of integrity as his father, Myeonghyeon Seung. His occasional smiles were warm and reassuring, his eyes youthful and bright, yet holding a depth that often remained hidden. Seong recalled Ryang''s earlier mention of Hwan, a name that had been unspoken for years.


    "Ryang," Seong began hesitantly, "do you truly believe Hwan is also drawn to this star?"


    Ryang''s expression hardened. "I do," he stated firmly. He watched Seong''s eyes flicker with uncertainty.


    Ryang sighed. "I encountered the High Commander on my way here," he said.


    "I doubt he offered any words of encouragement."


    Ryang didn''t deny Seong''s assumption. "He''s worried about you."


    "He''s always worried about me," Seong said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Never about you or Hwan."


    "That was the past," Ryang said. "He may have cared for Cheon Hwan, but he wouldn''t mourn a traitor."


    Seong averted his gaze, but Ryang pressed on. "He fears you''re still haunted by that day, by your inability to stop him. He doesn''t blame you. How could anyone expect you to raise a sword against your own brother? But should you face him again, you cannot hesitate. He is not your brother anymore."


    "There''s no need for such concern," Seong dismissed. "It''s been four years. No one has seen any sign of Hwan. He''s either sailed beyond the horizon or perished at sea."


    "You searched for him, then?" Ryang asked sharply.


    Seong flinched, caught off guard by the accusation in Ryang''s tone. Ryang pressed on, seizing on the slip.


    "You just said. That no one has seen him."


    "Ryang."


    "Do not harbor any sympathy for him," Ryang said intensely.


    Seong, unnerved by Ryang''s sudden shift in demeanor, quickly changed the subject. "Where do you think Norahn is headed?"


    Ryang took a deep breath, regaining his composure. "The remaining Emissaries mentioned the star is moving southeast," he said. "They still have a long way to go."


    "Southeast?" Seong''s brow furrowed. "Do you think the star seeks the sea?"


    "If it disappears over the horizon, it''s merely a celestial anomaly," Ryang said. "If it''s truly the star, why would it seek the sea when the Guardian of the Azure Scripture resides here?"


    Ryang''s logic was sound. But Seong couldn''t shake the feeling of unease. He pictured Norahn and the Emissaries, their white robes billowing in the wind as they navigated the treacherous paths of Birahng, their destination uncertain, their fate unknown.


    ──────────


    Norahn, accompanied by Cheongro, Sobi, and a handful of other Emissaries, departed from Wicheong Palace with an escort of one hundred soldiers provided by Kyeongseon Ung. The night was alive with the rustling of leaves and the chirping of insects, their sounds echoing through the moonlit forest. They followed the crimson star, its light guiding their path. As they journeyed, the star that had once seemed distant now hung directly overhead.


    Cheongro turned to Norahn. "Your Sanctity," he began, "did you not find the Guardian''s demeanor unsettling?"


    "His father has passed," Norahn replied flatly.


    Cheongro, undeterred, pressed on. "But his illness was no secret. His passing, though regrettable, shouldn''t be cause for such... despair. Even the High Councilor, he''s not a son. I expected them to be elated. We''ve awaited this star for a thousand years..."


    "Enough with your idle chatter," Norahn said. "Focus on the path ahead. The star draws near."


    Norahn himself was troubled by Seong''s reaction, his lack of enthusiasm. He had no answers for Cheongro''s questions. But Cheongro, unable to contain his curiosity, turned to Sobi.


    "The High Councilor''s sudden support is suspiciousm," he said. "He was so hostile when we first arrived... And his sister''s objections were so transparent. But the High Councilor... he''s a sly one. I can''t decipher his motives."


    "And your own motives are hardly a secret," Sobi retorted.


    "You..." Cheongro sputtered.


    Their bickering grated on Norahn''s nerves. "Is there nothing else to discuss on this sacred night?" he asked.


    "Forgive us, Your Sanctity," Cheongro and Sobi replied, bowing their heads.


    The air thickened with an unspoken tension. Norahn, unable to ignore the throbbing pain behind his eyes, winced. It had started back at Wicheong Palace, a persistent ache accompanied by a strange blurring of his vision. He had never experienced such discomfort. But with the urgency of their mission, he had dismissed it as a lingering effect of his prolonged fast. Now, the pain intensified, a searing sensation he could no longer conceal. Sobi, ever perceptive, noticed his discomfort.


    "Your Sanctity," she asked with concern, "are you unwell?"


    "It''s nothing," Norahn replied, his voice strained. "I''m merely tired from the late hours."


    "But you''ve been pushing yourself so hard, with little rest..."


    Before Sobi could finish, Norahn''s knees buckled, and he crumpled to the ground with a groan.


    "Your Sanctity!" Sobi cried out, rushing to his side. She knelt beside him, her hand reaching out to support his trembling form. Cheongro and the other Emissaries gathered around.


    Norahn''s forehead was slick with sweat, his hands pressed against his eyes. The pain intensified, a searing agony that pulsed through his skull. He gasped for breath.


    "I''m fine," he insisted. "Continue on your path. There''s no need to delay."


    Sobi wiped his forehead with her sleeve. "You''re clearly not fine! Tell me what''s wrong!" she said urgently.


    As Norahn opened his mouth to speak, an Emissary''s panicked voice cut through the tense silence.


    "Your Sanctity! The star! Its movement has changed!"