Mugen
This is a tale of two brothers: Mugen, the younger,
and Taro, the eldest. These two brothers have come far in life since their
parents disappeared ten years ago. As we begin this tale, the morning was just
like every other morning. The two were sleeping peacefully in their beds inside
the shelter they had built out of bamboo and driftwood. Just then, Taro was
awoken by the blood-curdling scream of his brother.
“NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!” Mugen screamed.
At least three times a week, Mugen had nightmares so horrifying they would wake him from his slumber crying. The thing was, once he woke up, he couldn't remember what they were about. As soon as he woke, the memories faded, though the fear lingered for hours. Taro performed his weekly ritual of calming his brother down by keeping his mind off of his feelings. Taro remembered a song his mother used to sing to Mugen when he was a baby to help him sleep. He didn't remember the words, but the melody always helped Mugen calm down.
“Mugen,” he calmly asked, “do you want me to warm
some Okayu for you?”
“No, I don’t feel like eating right now,” Mugen said
while looking down at the ground.
“Well then, let’s get our poles ready. We need to
catch some lunch.”
Mugen quickly snapped out of his sadness, as he
loved going fishing with his brother. The fish they pulled from the river were
their main food supply. Alas, young Mugen didn’t realize the trials and
tribulations they were about to embark upon. Their journey begins along the
banks of the Oyabe River. The banks of the river are a mixture of green and
red, covered in what is called blood grass. The trees cascaded over the water,
creating a canopy of shade over the peaceful and serene waterway. Each tree housed
creatures of all shapes and sizes. While walking the riverbank searching for a
good place to fish, they stumbled upon a fork in the river they had never been
to before. They had traveled this river for many years, but for some reason,
they did not recall this area.
“Has this always been here?” Mugen asked.
“I’ve never seen it before,” responded Taro.
Just then, a pale black mist came up out of the
water and started to engulf the two brothers.
“Aniki!!!! WHAT "COUGH COUGH" IS
THIS!!???”
“I don’t know!” Taro yelled. “Whatever it is, we
should get out of it. Cover your face and let’s hurry.”
They gripped their fishing gear, held their breath, and bolted through the mist. The moment they burst into the clearing, they dropped their poles—the bamboo clattering against the stones—and drew the only steel they owned. Mugen pulled his sai, the one with the broken yoku he usually used for digging up wild roots and mushrooms. Beside him, Taro unsheathed the sword that had belonged to their father. In this wilderness, between the river bandits and the predators in the brush, these blades were the only things keeping them alive. Taro turned to his brother and said, “We should h...” Taro’s voice was interrupted by a sharp snap in the ground.
Just then, the ground started to crackle beneath
their feet. They looked up and all the bright green trees they were so
accustomed to seeing had quickly turned brown and dry, and the blood grass just
blew away like the ashes of a dying fire.
“Uh, Aniki… how did that just happen?” Mugen asked
with a puzzled look on his face.
“Your guess is as good as mine, little brother,”
Taro said with the same bewildered look.
“Do you hear that?” Mugen said.
“Hear what? I don’t hear anything,” Taro whispered.
“That’s what I mean. There are no birds singing, no
animals in the trees, nothing.”
“What’s going on here?” Taro asked with a look of
confusion on his face.
“I’m not sure, but I’ve got a bad feeling about
this.”
As they looked around in the distance, they saw what
appeared to be a city. “Maybe we can find some answers there, little brother.”
As the two approached the city, there was an old
broken sign on the ground which read: Gojoseon.
Gojoseon? Why does that sound familiar? Taro
thought to himself.
The city was mostly covered with vegetation, dried
grass, and vines. “Where are we, big brother?” Mugen asked. As they gazed at
their newly discovered anomaly, Mugen noticed something in the distance. He
slowly pointed through the trees and stuttered, “T-T-Taro, wh-what is that?”
“It appears to be some sort of palace, Mugen,” Taro
said. Neither had seen a palace of this size before. It towered over the
treetops and into the clouds.
“I bet that belongs to Emperor Jimmu. He should know
what’s going on here,” Mugen said.
“You’re probably right, Mugen. By the look of it, it
appears to be at least a two-day walk away. Are you up for the journey?”
“I am if you are, brother,” Mugen said.
Since curiosity filled them both, they looked at
each other at the same time and said in synchronicity, “Maybe we should check
it out.” They both nodded yes and then continued on their quest—but not before
Mugen ran over to a nearby tree and hid their poles and gear under some debris.
He then took his sai and cut a small notch out of the trunk.
Taro looked at his brother with pride and said,
“Good idea, Mugen. Now our things will be easier for us to find upon our
return.”
After what had to be hours of traveling, nightfall
was closing in on the two. They decided to set up camp and continue their quest
in the morning. They found a clearing not far off the main road they were
traveling on. They gathered some branches from a paperbark maple tree that was
nearby. They used the bark as kindling to start a fire, as well as to lie on
instead of the hard ground. As they lay in their makeshift beds trying to get
some sleep, Taro’s mind started wandering to a time when his parents were still
alive and Mugen was just a baby.
Taro’s mother had just laid young Mugen in his bed to be able to cook dinner for Taro and his father.
“Taro… come over here,” his father said in a stern tone. “I need to speak to
you, my son.”
“Yes, otou-san,” Taro said with confusion.
“Should there come a time that your mother and I are
no longer able to care for you and your brother, you must promise me just one
thing: no matter what, protect your brother with your life. He has a journey
far greater than we will ever know—a journey that was first foretold thousands
of years ago.”
With a puzzled look, Taro turned to his father and asked what he meant. Just as his father was about to answer, their grass-walled house was riddled with thousands of ya, some of them tipped with fire. Their mother came running into the room only to be struck in the throat by an arrow. She collapsed instantly beside Mugen’s bed, and their father fell, suffering irreparable injuries.
With his last breath, their father told Taro, “Get your brother and run. Don’t look back—just run!”
“But Father!” Taro cried.
”RUN, DAMN IT!” his father screamed.
“Aniki?” Mugen’s voice broke the memory. When he got no answer, he called louder. “Taro!”
Taro stared blankly, a single tear rolling down his face as he came out of his trance.
“Big brother, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mugen. I was just thinking of when we were younger—having dinner with Mom and Dad.”
“I wish wherever they are, they would come back,” Mugen said softly.
“I know, Mugen,” Taro said. “I feel the same way.”
Even after all the years since their parents’ slaughter, Taro had kept the details of their deaths from his brother.
“Let’s try to get some sleep, Mugen. Who knows what tomorrow shall bring.” The two cautiously lay down for the night.
As morning approached, Taro woke first. Damn it, he thought to himself. It wasn’t a dream.
“Mugen... Mugen... wake up. We have to go.”
The two gathered their things and proceeded toward the main thoroughfare.
“Wait a minute, Aniki. Let’s clear the campsite so if anyone comes through here, they won’t know we were here.”
“Good idea, Mugen,” Taro said.
Mugen ran back to their site and swept the ground with a leafy branch. Meanwhile, Taro ensured the fire was completely extinguished, covering the embers with dirt and leaves before they continued their journey.
As they entered the city, they found the streets eerily deserted. It was as if the entire population had simply vanished. They passed dried-up gardens, the bones of dead koi in empty ponds, and the tattered remnants of clothes still hanging on lines. Not a single soul was in sight.
Cautiously, they decided to explore. They nearly missed an old Shinto shrine, almost entirely swallowed by kudzu. Using his sword, Taro hacked a path through the entrance of the torii gate. They stepped between the stone komainu guards and approached the shrine's entrance. As they passed a dried-up tsukubai, something caught Mugen’s eye. Without a word, he bolted toward the shrine doors.
Nothing was there.
“What are you doing, Mugen?”
“I saw something run by,” Mugen said, while gasping
for air. “Right outside the door—it looked like a person.”
“Are you sure? It appears no one has lived here for years. I’m sure it was just your eyes playing tricks on you,” Taro said. He scanned the shadows, his hand never leaving his sword. “This is a strange place, and we don't know what lies around these corners. Stay close to me, just in case.”
As the two continued to search the shrine, Taro tripped on a loose floorboard and fell hard to his knees. He clutched his leg as a sharp pain flared.
“Taro!” Mugen screamed, racing to his brother’s side. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, Mugen, I’m fine,” Taro said, clearly masking his pain. “What did I even trip over?”
Mugen pointed to the loose floorboard. Taro hobbled back to where he had fallen and tried to stomp the board back into place with his good leg. It refused to stay; each time he stepped down, it sprang right back up. Frustrated, Taro decided to pry it up entirely.
“Give me one of your sai, Mugen. I’m going to try to get under this.”
“Okay, but please be careful with it,” Mugen pleaded. “It’s the only thing I have left from otou-san.”
Taro successfully pried the board from the floor. As he moved it aside, he noticed something hidden in the darkness within. He removed several more boards, revealing an old wooden box. According to the inscription on its seal, the box contained the thirteen scrolls of the Dragon Clan.
The Dragon Clan, according to legend, was nothing more than a myth. There was no evidence they had ever existed, except for the ramblings of an old man who lived by the river. Taro remembered the stories the old man told the local children to scare them away from the forest—and his home. They had always been just stories.
At least, until now.
Taro began to read the scrolls one by one. They offered a detailed account of the Dragon Clan: how they had swept the land like a plague, taking what they wanted and slaughtering anyone who crossed their path. A genocidal entity by the name of General Amatsu led the clan. His mission was to dominate the river province of Buyeo and, eventually, the world. He had recruited every cutthroat and maniacal madman in the land for his army. They were the embodiment of pure evil.
No one knew where Amatsu had come from; legend claimed he emerged from an order of demons eons ago. To Taro, those had always been just stories—tales no one over the age of ten believed. But according to these scrolls, the General and his army were as real as the floorboards beneath him.
As Taro continued to read through the scrolls, young
Mugen made an inexplicable discovery. He was looking through the box and
something just didn’t seem right. There were three scrolls missing from the
box. The box wasn’t damaged, and there was no sign of it being broken into.
“They’re not all here,” Mugen said to his brother.
“What are you talking about, Mugen?” said Taro.
“The scrolls—there are three missing,” Mugen said.
“Maybe someone took them. They’re probably around
here somewhere. As soon as I’m finished looking through these, we’ll look
around,” Taro told his brother.
As Taro continued to read, he glanced occasionally over his shoulder, keeping an eye out for Mugen's mystery figure. The scrolls told of an uprising among the villages along the riverbanks. These villagers were nothing more than farmers, armed only with the tools they used to cultivate their crops. The text described how they had finally grown weary of the centuries of tyranny imposed by the Dragon Clan. Risking everything, the villagers stood up to General Amatsu. They took their humble tools and stormed the clan's fortress.
Taro unrolled the parchment further to reach the conclusion, but he stopped short. The bottom of the scroll had been jaggedly torn away.
Mugen looked at his brother’s puzzled face. “What’s wrong, Aniki?”
“The rest of the story is gone,” Taro said, running his thumb over the frayed edge. “The bottom half of the scroll has been ripped off.”
“Maybe if we find the other three,” Mugen suggested, “we’ll find the missing piece, too.”
“I think you might be right, little brother. Let’s put these somewhere safe, just in case someone comes looking for them. I’ll keep the torn one; if we find the missing piece, we’ll know it’s the right one if the edges match,” Taro said.
They scoured the temple for a hiding spot, but nowhere felt secure enough to protect such ancient secrets. As Taro paced the room, his eyes drifted toward a window.
“I think I’ve found a spot,” Taro said. Mugen joined him at the window to see what he was looking at, then gave a slow nod of agreement.
The spot they chose was the most secure place they could find: directly beneath one of the komainu. Since the stone statue was far too heavy to move, they decided to dig beside its base. Finding a hoe and a shovel in a nearby shed, they set to work. Once the hole was deep enough, they lowered the box inside and packed the dirt back over it. Applying the same tactics they used at their campsite, they scattered branches, leaves, and sticks until the ground looked undisturbed—as if no one had been there for years.
“They should be safe there, Mugen.”
With the scrolls securely hidden and his shin still bleeding from the floorboard, Taro turned to his brother. “Let’s go,” he said, and they continued on their quest.
“You don’t think anyone will find them, do you, Aniki?” Mugen asked as they left the shrine grounds.
“By the look of this town, I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” Taro assured him.
They turned back toward the main thoroughfare, cautiously making their way down the empty street.
“I get a very strange feeling about this place, little brother.”
“I know what you mean,” Mugen whispered. “I feel the same way.”
As they proceeded down the street, Mugen noticed writing carved into a stone wall. He stopped dead in his tracks, a ghostly look crossing his face.
“What is it, Mugen?” Taro asked, stopping beside him.
Mugen pointed to the wall, his voice trembling. “Wh-wh-what does it mean, Taro?”
Scratched deep into the stone were the words: LEAVE NOW OR YOU WILL PERISH.
“I think they’re trying to keep people out,” Taro reasoned, his hand tightening on his weapon.
“Then maybe we should leave,” Mugen urged.
Taro turned to his brother with concern. “We can’t, little brother. We have absolutely no idea where we are, and we need to find out what happened here.”
“Well, who do you think did that to the wall? Was it someone from the town?”
“I don’t know,” Taro said. “Let's keep looking; something is bound to turn up.”
The two continued cautiously down the street, searching for any sign of life.
“What about this place?” Mugen asked, squinting at a sign above a shop. “Boa J. Cain’s Jade Emporium.”
Taro stepped toward the front door and gave it a tug. It was locked. “Let’s try around back.”
As they rounded the back of the emporium, they came upon an alley—a deep, narrow passage. Though it was the middle of the day, the space was pitch black, as if the shadows were too thick for the sun to penetrate.
Mugen turned to his brother, his voice trembling. “I’m not so sure about this. I’m scared.”
“Don’t worry, little brother. I would never let anything happen to you,” Taro said firmly.
The two crept down the alley, searching for a back entrance, when the passage suddenly erupted in a brilliant light. The thundering sound of approaching horses echoed off the narrow walls. The pair dove through an open window of the abandoned business, narrowly avoiding a group of shadowy figures on horseback. As they huddled in the safety of the dark building, they held their breath, waiting for what would come next.
Then, the light vanished. Total darkness returned, exactly as it had been before. As quickly as the figures had appeared, they were gone. It was as if they had never existed at all.
While searching for a way out, they found a candle. Using sparks struck from Mugen’s sai against Taro’s sharpening stone, they managed to catch a flame. But as soon as the candle flickered to life, a sharp sound echoed through the building.
“Put it out!” Taro hissed.
They pinched the wick, plunging the room back into darkness. “We don’t want to attract those horsemen back, whoever they were,” Taro whispered.
Before leaving, they decided to scout the shop for a safe place to rest. As they felt their way from the bedroom and down the hallway, Mugen tripped over a heavy object, banging his leg and thudding to the floor.
“Are you okay, Mugen?” Taro asked, his voice low. “You always have to be like me, don't you?” he added jokingly.
“Yeah, I hurt my leg a little, but I’ll be alright,” Mugen whispered back, rubbing his shin. “What was that, though?”
Taro moved toward the object, leaning down to feel its shape in the dark. It seemed the owner of the emporium had placed a large bowl on a pedestal right in the middle of the hallway. To their surprise, the vessel was full of water—the only liquid they had found in a town where every other well and pond had long since dried up.
As the water from the overturned bowl streamed down the hall, it began to seep through the gaps in the floorboards. In the absolute silence of the shop, the brothers could hear it splashing into a hollow space far below.
They moved toward the sound of the trickling water.
“It sounds like it’s draining into a room below us, Aniki. But how is that possible?”
Taro paused for a moment, then turned toward the sound of his brother's voice. “I bet there’s a cellar or a hidden chamber down there. If there's no obvious door, the entrance must be concealed. Feel around the walls—there's bound to be a lever or a latch.”
“It’s so dark in here,” Mugen whispered, his hands grazing the dusty wood. “How are we supposed to find anything?”
“Just keep feeling,” Taro urged. “There has to be a way in.”
Just then, Mugen’s fingers brushed against a knothole in one of the floorboards. He reached inside and felt a thin, rough piece of rope.
“Taro! I found something!” Mugen whispered, his voice thick with excitement.
Taro navigated the darkness to reach his brother. He gripped the rope and tugged, but it caught as if something were snagged. He braced himself, pulling with all his strength until he felt the floorboards shift beneath his feet.
“Mugen, follow my voice. Over here.”
He gave one final heave, and a trapdoor groaned open. Still blind in the darkness, Taro felt the edge of the opening until his hand found a wooden staircase leading down. He reached back for his brother. “Come on, Mugen. Hold the rail and stay close to me. I’m not leaving your side.”
The two slowly descended into the unknown. As they crept down the creaking, half-rotted staircase, a foul odor began to fill the air.
“Ugh, what’s that smell?” Mugen asked, covering his nose. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I’m not sure I want to know, little brother,” Taro answered, his voice tight.
Once they reached the bottom, Taro stumbled over a small crate. He reached down to inspect its contents. It feels like more candles, he thought.
“Mugen,” he whispered. “I think there are candles in this box. Get a spark going so we can light the one from upstairs.”
Once again, Mugen struck his sai against the stone. He lit his candle, then passed the flame to another for his brother, quickly treading out the stray sparks. The twin flames pushed back the shadows, revealing the room's contents.
“Wow,” Taro breathed, his eyes wide. “I’ve never seen so much jade.”
“Good thing you put that fire out,” Taro said, eyeing the dry surroundings. “This whole place would have gone up in seconds.”
He noticed something strange about the pile—a thin rope protruding from the straw and anchored to the floor. As he moved closer, he realized it wasn't just a heap of hay; it was a tent, carefully camouflaged to hide from prying eyes.
With every step Taro took toward the flap, the horrid stench intensified. He clamped a hand over his nose and mouth, squinting as he peered inside. His eyes widened, and the color drained from his face. He turned back to Mugen, his voice thick with disgust.
“Ugh... I think I found the source of the odor.”
“What is it?” Mugen asked.
“I don’t think you want to see, little brother.”
“Oh, come on. I can take it.”
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Taro responded. Mugen gave a determined nod.
Taro slowly pulled back the flap, revealing five decomposed bodies. It appeared to have been a whole family: a man, a woman, and three small children. One of the children was still clutching a small doll in her arms. From the look of them, they had been there for a long time. They seemed to have been hiding from something, huddled together as if to share their last bit of warmth.
Taro untied the tent, draped it back over the family, and carefully recovered them with the hay.
“Let’s go. We’ve seen enough,” he told his brother.
They retreated up the stairs and slipped cautiously out the back door. After circling around the emporium to the front, they returned to the main thoroughfare, desperate for answers.
“I have a little hoshizakana in my satchel,” Taro said, his voice flat. “But after what we just saw... I’m not hungry.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Mugen muttered in disgust. “What do you think happened to them, Taro? Do you think they were hiding from those riders?”
“I’m not sure, Mugen. But whatever—or whoever—they were hiding from had to be terrifying for them to stay down there until they starved. It makes me leery of going any further.”
Despite their dread, they pressed on. Every house and shop they passed was as hollow and silent as the last.
“This is so strange,” Mugen whispered. “How can an entire town just disappear?”
“I wish I knew,” Taro replied, scanning the rooftops. “Maybe we should stay off the main road for a while. If those riders come back, we’ll be sitting ducks out here.”
“We’re going to hide? Like that family?” Mugen asked, his eyes wide with worry.
“No, Mugen. It’s like Father used to tell me when I was a boy: Seek not to follow in the footsteps of men of old; seek what they sought.” Taro paused, looking down the long, empty road. “The way I see it, the people who lived here followed this road and likely confronted those riders. They aren't here to tell their tale anymore, and I don't want us to share their fate. We shouldn't just follow those who came before us; we have to make our own path. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do. I understand completely.”
They left the city behind and approached the tree line in the distance. As they moved into the forest, both of their stomachs began to rumble. Just then, a very familiar aroma drifted through the cool air.
“Do you smell that, Taro? That smells exactly like… Come on!”
In an instant, Mugen took off, sprinting toward the scent.
“Mugen, stop!” Taro yelled, his heart hammering against his chest. “Wait for me!”
Taro caught up with Mugen, and both skidded to a halt. It was a village—a village full of people. They walked slowly through the center of town, eyes darting in every direction. The villagers didn't wave or greet them; they simply watched, staring holes through the newcomers.
Mugen stopped suddenly. "This must be where that smell is coming from.”
Taro followed his gaze to a wooden sign: Sy Dine’s Miso, Dumplings, & Ramen.
“Miso?,” Mugen whispered, his eyes widening. “Do you think they really have it?”
“Well, it’s on the sign,” Taro said, though he didn't lower his guard. “I would think so.”
“That sounds so good... we haven’t had it in so long.”
The two entered the establishment, fueled by the hope of tasting a meal they hadn’t had in years. They scanned the room for threats before looking for a place to sit. The interior was fairly empty; only a few patrons were eating, and an old man sat asleep in a far corner. As they took their seats, a young lady approached them.
“Ohayo, gentlemen. Would you like something—”
Mugen cut her off, his voice cracking with excitement. “Yes! I want—!”
Before he could finish, Taro slammed his hand onto the table, the loud thwack echoing in the quiet room. “I apologize for my brother's behavior,” he said, his eyes darting to the other patrons. “He really loves miso.”
“You’re not from around here, are you?” the young woman asked.
“No,” Taro replied shortly. “We are not.”
“Well then, let me be the first to welcome you to Sy Dine’s Miso, Dumplings, & Ramen.”
“Is this your restaurant?” Taro asked, his eyes scanning the empty tables.
“It is. I am Sy Dine,” she replied with a modest bow. “What can I get for you today?”
Taro looked at his brother and noticed he was practically biting his tongue to keep from shouting. “Go ahead,” he said.
“Five usagi dumplings and a large bowl of miso, please!” Mugen blurted out.
“Wow. Five dumplings and a bowl of miso? You sure you can eat all that?” She leaned in closer to Taro, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “And can you actually pay for this? We don’t give out any damn handouts here. If you’re looking for a freebie, you can turn around and walk right back out that door.”
“No,” Taro replied firmly. “We have money. How much is it?”
“Two hundred and fifty mon,” she said.
“Mon? What is mon?” Taro asked.
“Mon is... money. I thought you said you had some. What exactly are you carrying?”
Taro reached into his pouch and sifted through the coins. “I have... I’d say... five hundred Wadōkaichin.”
“Wadōkaichin?” the woman asked, a look of genuine confusion crossing her face. She leaned over the counter, her eyes narrowing. “What did you say your names were?”
“We didn’t. But since you’re asking, I’m Taro and this is my little brother, Mugen.”
A look of pure shock washed over her face. At that exact moment, Mugen caught a flash of movement in the corner. The old man wasn't sleeping anymore. Before Mugen could even cry out, the man drew his sword with a rasp of steel and lunged across the room!
Sy Dine reacted instantly. She kicked a heavy chair into the man's path; it caught him square in the head, knocking him unconscious before his blade could reach Mugen.
“Ng!” Sy Dine shouted. “Ng Lea! Get in here!”
A young woman came running from the back of the kitchen.
“Get some rope, Ng, and tie this trash up,” Sy demanded. She then pointed at the brothers. “You two. Come with me.”
They followed her into the kitchen, where she stopped abruptly. She braced herself and shoved the heavy service counter away from the wall, revealing a concealed opening that led into a dark passageway.
“Quickly,” Sy Dine urged. “In here.”
She guided the bewildered brothers into the dark passage. “Ng! Let’s go!”
Ng Lea scrambled through the kitchen and into the tunnel, heaving the counter back into place behind her to seal the entrance. As they hurried through the cramped space, Mugen stopped and turned to his brother. “Where are we going?” he whispered.
Before Taro could answer, Sy Dine cut him off. “Quiet... just keep moving.” Sensing the terror in the boy's voice, she added more gently, “I’ll explain everything once we’re safe at the other end.”
After what felt like an hour of traveling through the dark, they finally reached the end and emerged from a massive, hollowed-out tree trunk.
As they stepped into the fresh air, Mugen let out a sigh of relief. “Finally! We’re out and we can actually see.”
“Don’t get too comfortable, little one,” Sy Dine warned, her eyes scanning the forest.
Nearby, Ng Lea was already scouting the perimeter. “It’s
over here,” she called out, gesturing toward a hidden path.
They pulled back a pile of debris to reveal a hidden
trapdoor.
“Another one?” Mugen groaned. “Are you kidding me?”
“Come on, little one,” Sy Dine urged. “This one isn't as
long as the last.”
They entered the passage and sealed the door. Branches,
leaves, and brush were fixed to the outside so that once it was shut, the
entrance vanished back into the forest floor. Once again, they began the long
trek through the dark.
After forty-five minutes, Taro skidded to a halt. “Stop. I
need to know exactly where you’re taking us.”
“We’re saving your lives,” Sy Dine said, her voice echoing
in the narrow space. “It’s not much farther. Once we arrive, I will explain
everything.”
“How do you even know where we are?” Mugen asked, his hands
trailing along the damp walls. “It’s pitch black.”
“Believe me, little one. We’re almost there.”
Just then, a sliver of light cut through the darkness ahead.
“I see it!” Taro announced. “There’s a way out just ahead.”
Once they reached the end, Ng Lea told Taro to push the
hatch open. He heaved it upward, only to be met by four blades pointed directly
at his face.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! It’s us!” Sy Dine shouted from behind
him.
The swords were lowered instantly.
As the group climbed out, they found themselves in the
center of a small, hidden gathering of people.
“Where are we, Aniki?”
“I’m not sure,” Taro replied.
Sy Dine gestured toward the room, her palm open. “This is all that’s left of those who refuse to bow to that monster of a General.”
Taro and Mugen scanned the crowd, counting fifty, maybe sixty people staring back. Taro swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “You told us that once we were safe, you would tell us what’s going on here,” he said sternly.
“Yes, I did, brave one. But first, we must relieve some of the tension.” Sy Dine turned to Ng Lea. “Go make sure everyone is here.”
Ng returned shortly with a few more people who had been tending their gardens nearby. Once the group was gathered, Sy Dine jumped onto a table. “My friends… my family… can I have your attention? I know you are confused about these strangers I’ve brought into our midst.”
“You know we have a strict no-unapproved-people policy, Sy!” a voice shouted from the back. “Do you remember what happened last time?”
“Of course I remember,” she replied sharply. “I’m the one who made the rule. But let me introduce our visitors before you cast judgment. To my right—this is Taro.”
The crowd began to whisper.
“And this young man is Taro’s younger brother, Mugen.”
The whispers erupted into a roar of conversation. “Could it be?” “Are you sure?” “They can't be!”
“Calm down, my friends!” Sy shouted over the crowd. “In time, all questions will be answered. But first, let us offer our guests a meal. They have been through much, and I’m sure they are famished.”
They sat at a nearby table where a cook named Kyoko offered them miso soup. Mugen leaned in and whispered to his brother, “I really want some usagi dumplings.”
Kyoko overheard and smiled. “If it's usagi you want, usagi you shall have.”
Off to the side, a man approached Ng Lea. “Ng, why are you over here by yourself?”
“Just keeping an eye out, Boa,” she replied.
“If these boys are who they claim, we have long roads ahead,” Boa J. Cain said solemnly. “Do you think it's really them?”
“I'm not sure,” she replied. “I just can't shake the feeling they are. Will you take over the watch for me, Boa?”
“Of course.”
Ng walked over to the boys and placed a hand on Mugen’s shoulder. “How's the usagi, young one?”
“It's really good!” Mugen grinned at his brother. “Better than yours, Aniki.”
Taro smirked. “I’ll remember that.”
As Mugen finished his last bite, he let out a satisfied huff. “Phew, I don’t think I could eat another bite.”
“Taro, did you get enough?” Ng asked.
“Yes,” Taro replied. “Thank you—thank you so much.”
Across the room, Boa cleared his throat, catching Ng’s eye. He gave her a pointed look. It was time.
“Okay, boys,” Ng said, her tone shifting. “Now that you’ve eaten, we need to talk. I’m going to tell you a local legend. Long ago, a young man was traveling toward Gojoseon. This was right after Hwanung's descent back to the heavens—back when it was known as Sinsi. His son, Tan'gun, took over as king and renamed the land Gojoseon.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Taro said, “but what does this have to do with us?”
“Patience is a bitter plant, young one, but its fruit is sweet,” Ng replied. “May I continue?”
Taro dipped his head in shame. “Yes.”
“Tan'gun found texts describing a sword that belonged to his grandfather, Hwanin.” She unrolled a weathered scroll. “Look here. This was Singeom—the Divine Sword. Legend says it was one of the three heavenly seals. Its blade gleamed with a golden-red hue, and its hilt was wrapped in shark skin. It was meant to bridge the gap between the divine and human worlds, empowering its owner to vanquish evil. A thousand years later, it was said the blade fell into the possession of two brothers traveling the lands.”
“Wait!” Taro blurted out. “This is a story about gods from thousands of years ago. What does that have to do with me or Mugen?”
Ng didn’t look up, but her eyebrow arched. “Young one, legends do not speak in straight lines; they speak in echoes.”
Taro stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “What are you talking about? First legends, now echoes? Mugen! Let’s go. We’re leaving.”
Ng didn’t stop him. She simply unrolled the scroll further. “Go then,” she whispered. “But Mugen… ask your brother the full history of his sword.”
Taro shook his head as if pitying her delusions. He ignored her offer of tea and, with a sharp tug on Mugen’s noragi, led them out into the night.
As the door closed, Mugen leaned toward him. “But we don’t even know where we’re going.”
“I know, little brother,” Taro replied. “I just need some quiet so I can think about what she was saying.”
As darkness fell and the air was getting colder, Mugen shifted his weight, his eyes looking at the ground. "Aniki...do you want me to dig out an irori?" He hesitated, then softly added, "Like the one at home."
"That's fine, Mugen" Then Taro looked out into the void and just began to murmur, "What was she talking about?" "What's so important about Otou-san's sword?"
"Taro?" Mugen said, but there was no response from his brother. He then proceeded to put his hand on his shoulder and shook it. "Taro?"
Taro looked at his brother confused. "Taro, it's ok. we'll figure it out."
"I apologize, Mugen. I just kind of got in a daze," Taro said to his brother. "Maybe in the morning we should go back and see what she meant."
"And apologize?"
"Yes, Mugen. And apologize."
The two then began to gather branches and leaves from nearby ginkgo and juniper trees to make a temporary bed. As the two lay down for their slumber, they stared up into the forest canopy. In the distance, they could hear the cicadas chirping and the high-pitched shrills of the snub-nosed monkey. Peering through the treeline, they could see the vast ocean of stars. Without alerting his brother, Taro whispered to himself, "Otou-san, Okaa-san, please guide me with your protection of Mugen."
As Taro was drifting toward sleep, he looked over at his brother and noticed he had already dozed off. His own eyelids grew heavy.
Just then, Taro was awakened by a soft voice. "Taro, my son. Wake up. We need to talk."
"Who?" Taro yawned. "Who is there?"
"You know my voice, brave one," she replied.
"Okaa-san? Is that you? How?"
"Yes, my brave son. It is...I heard your plea" she said.
"MUGEN!!" Taro yelled. "MUGEN WAKE UP!!"
"He cannot hear you, my son" she said in a somber voice. "This is for you alone."
With a single tear rolling down his face, he stuttered, "But...how?"
"All in good time, my son," she said. "All in good time." "Right now, there are more important questions on your mind." You can ask me anything, but remember, my time is limited."
As Taro's eyes started to overflow with tears, he broke down. "It's been so long Okaa-san, I have missed you so much." I have been doing the best I can taking care of Mugen."
"I know, my son. I have been watching over you the entire time," she replied. "But, until now, I was not allowed to interfere. I am so proud of you; you have done such a great job raising your brother."
Taro bowed his head to his mother and graciously said, "Hahaue, katajikenai. I must ask, Okaa-san, where is Otou-san?"
A sad look rolled over her face, and she said, "That's actually one reason why I am here, my son. Your father and I never got a chance to tell you our history."
