One year after Wangyeon's crowning
.....
The world beyond the temple was covered in frost.
White trees stood like silent sentinels, cloaked in endless snow. The wind moved gently between them, not harsh, but hollow, as though it carried the memory of voices long lost.
In the heart of that silence, Jang Mi stood barefoot in the courtyard, her breath painting ghosts in the air.
She moved through a slow, deliberate sequence of movements. Arms sweeping like falling petals, legs grounding her like roots in the earth. Her dark hair was tied back with a faded pink ribbon, the only childish thing she still wore. The only thing on her that hints that she was just 8 years old.
Her skin was pale from years without sun.Her eyes, however, were fierce.
From the temple steps, Feng Hau, the monk who had raised her in secret, watched with quiet approval. A kettle of tea warmed beside him.
"You move like a girl with a past," he said gently with a distant looking smile plastered on his face. His facial expression was always like one who was staring into the future.
She did not stop moving.
"I don't remember most of it." She said in an almost whisper.
"That is the wound of mercy," he replied. "The mind forgets what the heart cannot."
When she finally stopped, her hands trembled. Not from the cold — from the power inside her.
She looked down at her palms. For a brief moment, they shimmered — not red, not violent — but with a soft whitish glow, as if the moonlight itself had taken root under her skin.
"Why do I feel it more lately?" she asked. "Even when I don't call for it?"
Feng Hau stood and stepped beside her.
"Because the world is waking up. Something is stirring in the south." He said looking at the sky.
She blinked up at him.
"The boy?" She whispered.
The monk froze.
"You dreamed of him again?" He asked anxiously.
Jang Mi hesitated. She always hesitated when she talked about the dream.
"The sky was red and…" she paused for a bit.
"…and His eyes were empty."
She swallowed.
"But he was… like me." She completed.
Feng Hau's expression darkened.
"He is not like you. Whatever he is, stay away." He said sternly.
"But he looked lonely," she said.
"just like me" she said in a slow whisper
That silenced them both.
Later That Night
Jang Mi sat alone in her small chamber. No mirrors. No scrolls. Just a straw mat, a single candle, and a wooden flute she never played.
The wind howled outside and the Snow fell in endless hushes.
She rested her head against the cold wall and stared at the ceiling.
"Do you know what it's like?" she whispered aloud to the dark.
"To be alive, and still feel forgotten?"
No one answered, of course.
...…..
Somewhere far away in Haneulguk, under a completely different moon, a boy with obsidian eyes sat awake in silence — staring at nothing, blade across his lap, feeling a weight he could never explain.
They both had power.
But neither had peace.