Baekjoseon, Year of the Tiger, Nineteenth Winter
"If hell exists, then I live in one filled with frost and shadows." —Thoughts of King Yi Hwan
The cave breathed mist. Every crack in the rock exhaled a harrowing chill, as though winter itself had been born there—long before men ever walked.
North Grey advanced in silence, slipping between shadows like a hunter without prey. His face, hidden behind a mask stained with frost, betrayed no emotion. Only his eyes—cold, precise, inhuman—gleamed with the light of the waning moon.
At the back of the cave, a figure awaited. Tall. Still. Cloaked in robes so black they seemed woven from the darkness itself. He did not turn as the assassin arrived. Only the whisper of wind through stone and the distant drip of melting ice marked time.
"The king is dead," said North Grey in a dry voice, little more than a whisper against the damp walls. "As ordered, I drove the jade blade into his heart."
The figure did not reply at once. He only raised his head slightly, as if scenting something in the air.
"And the heir?" he asked at last, his voice deep, serene, yet edged—like a blade wrapped in silk and petals.
"I've cleared his path to the Court of Ice of assassins and guhwon. Yi Hwan, bearer of the White Eye, will ascend the throne as was ordained from his birth."
A sound rose from the figure's chest—a brief, restrained laugh. More an exhalation of satisfaction than joy.
"All unfolds as it should," he finally said. "Snow has settled into the bones of the southerners. Now we need only wait for the Void to open unto the world."
North Grey tilted his head. There was no fear in him, but caution, always. The one he served was no ordinary man. He never had been.
"The people still believe in the prophecy of salvation. That a new king will bring spring and unify the Three Courts," he murmured.
"And is that not true?" replied the figure, turning his head just enough for a sliver of light to reveal a scar trailing down his left cheek.
"Do you believe in salvation too?" asked North Grey, almost mockingly.
The figure chuckled low.
"I believe in balance. And for spring to blossom, there must first be a thaw. And for thaw to come... ice must reign until the moon splits in two."
Another silence settled between them. The cave seemed to hear them. To pulse with their words.
"What of the others?" the assassin inquired. "Do they know what's coming?"
"No one knows. No one must. Not the princes, not the queen, not the High Councillor. All are where they must be. Every piece, placed."
North Grey stepped back, like a servant who had fulfilled his role.
"And if the new king fails your expectations?"
"He will not. He cannot. He will follow the path that Fate has carved for him. For us."
A shiver ran down the assassin's spine, though he showed no sign. For all his lethality, he was merely an instrument. The true mind was here, in this cave. And its plan… had only just begun.
"Soon, all will be in place," the figure repeated, finally turning—but the mist veiled him before his face could be fully revealed. "But we must be careful. Do not allow yourself to be captured. The Great Spirits are watching, and the Emperor has eyes everywhere. His exorcists could become... troublesome if they trace your hwaejeong."
"I'll be careful, Bul-ui Gunju[1]. I've altered the pulses of my hwaejeong to an undetectable level."
North Grey gave one last nod. Then, with nothing more to say, he vanished into the night like a shadow returning to the depths.
And in the eerie vastness of the cave, the figure from Baeknara approached a statue carved from stone: it too was gnawed by frost and cursed energies sealed within this place. At the monument's base, a small flame-flower—frozen—pulsed beneath a crust of immortal ice.
A hand, bone-thin and scarred, reached toward the flower. The stranger hesitated a moment before touching the frozen bud. But as he did, his fingers burned, revealing flesh and bone.
The fire of the imperial sun... the flames of heaven seen in Fate's dream shall extinguish, and Baekjoseon shall rise against the Emperor and his legion of exorcists.
[1] T: Lord of Fire.