Hae Maru, His Royal Majesty, the King Hae of Great Hanulbeol-guk, felt desperate. 

 

He maintained a cold, stoic expression during the hearing, as it was expected from the ruler, but deep inside, he was certain that his reign was soon to meet a violent end. Even if his subjects remained loyal to him, which was questionable considering the dire circumstances added to the usual court intrigue, the Jin barbarians laying siege to his city wouldn’t be so merciful. 

 

There was nowhere to run. 

 

Death, however, did not terrify him as much as the fact he would be all but forgotten. 

 

He gave up his identity when he was crowned, being referred to by title rather than by name as the customs demanded, but now he was certain that the very memory of him would be lost to history as well once he would be gone. 

 

Breaking out of the siege now would be a miraculous deed, and Maru had already put his fate into the hands of forces beyond the human ken. He had to set the earthly matters before he ceased. 

 

Maru wasn’t like his ancestor, Great King Mujong, renowned for his martial prowess, who had never lost in battle, who had beaten the Jin armies many times, and had expanded his realm beyond what their dynasty ever ruled. He was the man who would have won here. He was the one that sealed the worst relics that ever existed under the royal palace.

 

Those relics, known as the scrolls of Pho-us-kah, waited here to be used, only to be accessed by those most trustworthy. 

 

The king, in the meantime, issued edicts, which he knew would be his last. However, the sacrifice was needed. 

 

Hae Maru’s entire rule was marked by the struggle to keep up with the example set by his forebears. 

 

He had tried, though, and he allowed himself to indulge in sweeter memory for a moment as his orders were ceremonially handed out. It was the tradition which the court indulged in to give them the illusion of control in the city besieged by the enemies. 

 

The same decorum had accompanied decrees to plaster roads and build granaries, ease trade and to restore the capital fortress to its full glory.

 

His actions drained the treasury, but an age of peace and prosperity felt like a fitting legacy for one of his standing.

 

In the end, the roads carried the Jin armies to feast on what they didn’t burn. The invaders were met with a people of craft and trade, not the unbending warriors who had carved the realm, crushing his armies, and his generals, and all but imprisoning him within the capital, closing off all the options to flee.

 

He hesitated to escape until the very last moment. 

 

His mighty fortress couldn’t possibly fall. It was foolish; the king realised. 

 

As his subjects fled the countryside to hide behind the city walls, the capital became increasingly crowded, and food supplies were turning scarce, while the Jin attempts to scale or breach the walls were becoming slightly more successful each time, killing more of the city's brave defenders. 

 

To make matters worse, the number of enemies grew. Now, Jin had thirty thousand men behind the gates, double what they started with, while the city defenders' numbers were thinner, and hungrier. The Jin held back from full scale assault. With their advantage, it would be a matter of time before they could storm still unbroken walls.

 

They were still building the siege towers at this moment. 

 

The other night, a group of Jin’s Sword Adepts scaled the walls, and though Hanulbeol-guk killed a few, and drove back the rest, someone still set one granary on fire, destroying vital supplies the defenders needed. In time, the accursed Jin wouldn’t even have to fight. 

 

The defenders would have to surrender at this rate, at the mercy of the Jin invaders. 

 

Maru stared absentmindedly as they reached the last part of the hearing. 

 

He was ready to announce the decision that would shake the kingdom. 

 

The kingdom was already crumbling, and perhaps, he thought, the king of which truly lost the mandate of Heavens. 

 

Only a very few rulers would admit their mistakes, and certainly none he had heard of, but Hae Maru saw the enemy army at the gates as his own personal failure he had to atone for. He would make the sacrifice. His throne, however, needed to pass to someone more favoured by the gods once he did. Worse choices would see to their own rise.

 

He watched in silence. His most faithful general, Ri Jung, accompanied by the city’s highest ranker priestess, kneeled before the king, their heads lowered. 

 

“Tell me, priestess, is our daughter blessed by the gods?” He asked.

 

“Yes, your majesty, without a doubt. Her royal highness, the crown princess, holds powers given by the gods!” the priestess answered without hesitation. While many officials were very hesitant, there wasn’t anyone in the clergy that denied this. 

 

Even if the gods turned away from the king of Hanulbeol-guk they didn’t turn away from his daughter, the king thought. 

 

“Yes. She is.” The king paused, and then announced: “We thus declare the Crown Princess Cheonchong, Hae Narim, our successor, who shall rule after our death, for she has been chosen by the Gods. General Ri Jung shall see to her instigation with royal decree!. From this point henceforth, the succession shall be possible to the daughters of the king as it would be to his sons!” 

 

The general maintained the calm expression as the envoy placed the official document written on yellow silk in his hands. The king had faith in this man,he even originally planned to wed his own daughter to Ri Jung as the greatest honour the king could give. This changed. 

 

If the kingdom's misfortune meant that gods didn’t look at Hae Maru rule favourably anymore, then he would deliver the person beloved by them to the throne, so his subjects wouldn’t suffer from his failure. If his daughter was chosen, so be it. She would hold the position that women never did before. 

 

It couldn’t be said about the rest of the court that they shared the sentiment. 

 

The king could hear the whispers among the gathered officials. They were expected to remain silent. They didn’t. Each one of these murmuring voices would be considered the worst breach of the court etiquette, if not pure insolence, worthy of punishment, or shame, but the king didn’t care. 

 

“He can’t do it.” 

 

“Impossible.” 

 

“This is not how…” 

 

The reaction, however, was understandable.

 

If they weren’t in a besieged city, facing the crisis that was already shaking the throne of Hanulbeol-guk, such a decision would warrant a massive uproar, without doubt triggering an open rebellion leading to the king being deposed in favour of a better, more sane, ruler. One which wouldn’t challenge the succession laws, and traditions that the kingdom was built upon. 

 

Hae Maru had no sons. His younger brother was dead, slain in battle, which he shouldn’t be, even out of foolish heroism. In such a case, the title was supposed to pass to his uncle, a duplicitous, untrustworthy man who already ran and would surrender to the Jin. 

 

Maru was determined to not let that happen. 

 

If he lost the favour of the Heavens, he would pass the throne to the only person which every member of the clergy believed to be loved by the Gods, and then Hanulbeol-guk would prevail. He repeated that to himself. 

 

Hae Maru tightened his grip on the armrests of his throne and raised his voice. 

 

“We shall lead the charge to break the siege on the royal city!” 

 

He began explaining his plan. The court listened. No one protested when the king declared his intention to use an ancient relic to break the siege, with the king leading the charge personally afterwards. 

 

A very few kings led the army from the front.

 

But between preventing surrender and his disregard for sacred tradition, he had to fear turncoats and loyalists alike in the rear. 

 

His own officials, offended by the daring edict, and the complete disregard of the succession law, the nobles striving to take the power - they all knew, if the relic wouldn’t kill him, the Jin would. Then the royal decree would be disregarded.

 

He could feel it in the very air. 

 

The plan was the suicide. Albeit it would save his opponents the trouble with hiring the assassins. 

 

“This hearing is over.” 

 

He said. It was almost eerie when they all bowed respectfully, as if nothing had happened, their heads lowered in respect as the monarch left the room. They all, without exception, accepted the choice he made. Hae Maru just would have to die. 

 

The king had no illusions about what would happen once he would be gone, if the ritual went as everyone expected, but prayed they would change their mind should it succeed.

 

It would be the will of the gods.

 

He ordered his personal guards to prepare for this departure and went down deep into the bowels of the royal palace where the vault holding the secrets was situated.

 

With every step he took, his mind was racing, entirely overtook by his determination to make his mark in history. 

 

As the men guarding the doors opened the doors for him, the sages and two priestesses immediately bowed down before the ruler. 

 

“Rise and speak freely.” He ordered, “Did you find the scroll I requested?” 

 

“Yes, your royal majesty.” the court sage answered, his head still lowered as the protocol demanded, “This one identified the scroll that would destroy the Jin army, only…” 

 

“Speak!” 

 

“Your royal majesty! Only a chosen few are protected against such power. Others pay the price. Your royal majesty will… may… die.” The sage stammered. This wasn’t something one would say to the king.

 

“Yes, we are aware of the danger, and we will take the risk to ourselves for the sake of the kingdom.” Maru said calmly. 

 

“But… who?” the sage protested, dropping the title. Maru didn’t think of it as insolence, though.

 

“Our daughter shall succeed us. If she has been chosen by the gods, it is the will of the Heavens she shall rule! She left for safety before Jin armies arrived.” 

 

No one replied to that. Then, without being asked, one priestess spoke.

 

“Yes, your majesty, her Highness the Crown Princess took one scroll too when she left.” She said, hesitantly, aware that she did so out of turn. 

 

Though speaking like this might have been ultimately impolite, if not offensive, the king wasn’t upset as his mind was engaged with the sacrifices that needed to be made when facing the foreign barbarians invading his domain, killing his subjects. 

 

Hae Maru was the king, and he felt he had the duty. 

 

He still listened to the erratic explanation.

 

“The scrolls of Pho-us-kah foretold when they would be used. When the chosen of the royal blood invoke their power, a crack in the truth shall emerge, and the chain cannot be broken until the ultimate tribulations are undertaken. We feel it. She used the other scroll.” 

 

“But she is protected from the scroll’s power! You said so before!” He protested.

 

“Yes, your majesty, but we are afraid of what started. Not all sense it, but there is great evil to the south.”

 

The blessings that were bestowed upon his daughter meant she was fated for great things. Her journey wouldn’t be without peril, however, if the gods meant anything, she would overcome them. The king refused to think otherwise. Now there was no stepping back.  

 

The words were interrupted by the sound of alarm from the guards outside echoing through the palace halls. There was the ‘great evil’ at the gates of his city, he thought.

 

“Give me the scroll I asked for.” He commanded.

 

Hae Maru, the king of Hanulbeol-guk, didn’t pay any attention to anything else until the relic he demanded was placed in his hands. 

 

It hummed with unseen energies which he could not explain, proving without the doubt this wasn’t an ordinary piece of the parchment, but something imbued with a power that wanted to be released into the world. 

 

Though his palace was vast, he paid no attention to the distance as he rushed outside, ignoring anyone who would cross his way. No one dared, not even those that would plot against him, not even after he did the unthinkable. 

 

It was almost as if the scroll he held aided his will to use it, pushing everyone aside. 

 

On the stairs of the palace, even if there was another set of the walls further separating them for the rest of the city proper, he could hear the fighting carried through the capital, smell the smoke from the fires. There was no time to lose. 

 

His soldiers stared at him, unsure how to act, dazed by the relic. 

 

And the scroll hummed. 

 

He opened it, his eyes drawn to the symbols of where the ritual words began. 

 

“Repeat the words and a crack in the truth shall emerge.” was the instruction that echoed through his mind. 

 

He did. As he spoke the words of power, he could feel his life fleeing out of his body, into the relic, fuelling the ritual which he wasn’t able to stop anymore, possessing a mind of its own. 

 

Even as life force escaped the ruler, the mystical forces flowing through felt incredible, out of this world.

 

It granted him vision of the Jin armies storming the walls, exactly as he feared they soon would, and the brave defenders still trying to drive them away. 

 

His last wish, sent through the forbidden scroll to the world at large, was to break the attackers that assaulted his city, and his kingdom. 

 

Then Hae Maru, His Royal Majesty, the King Hae of Great Hanulbeol-guk, fell.