Dances of the Tweeting Flock

No kingdom on earth had ever recorded a ceremony, no matter how sacred and important, that garnered a hundred percent attendance from the public. The differences in the mindset and level of faith were evident with Silla's people. Two opposing forces repelled at the two ends of the rainbow. Blind devotion and lenient acceptance. While a huge portion of the majority chose to relish in the grandiose of the palace, hoping to catch an ounce of blessings from the King's prediction, some people, living on the runs of the ragged skirt of hierarchy, either opted to stay in their homes or continued their daily jobs.

As the blue royal palanquin of the Prime Minister's son passed by the capital market, Lady Seo opened the windows to get some fresh air. The once noisy and crowded cradle of trade and industry became a cold desert. A few stalls continued their operations, hoping for chance customers.

The carriage paused, and Lady Seo asked a random seller on the sidewalk, who was busy folding and sorting his colored silk fabrics.

"Excuse me, Ahjussi, why is the market silent? Where are the people?"

"Ahjumeoni, which part of Silla do you live in? Were you not informed? It's the day the King pronounces the mandate of Heavens. A lot of people went to the palace to witness it."

Her face turned crimson in a slice of embarrassment, "I see... But why are you here? Aren't you curious about it?"

"I am not interested. I would rather stay here and test my luck. It has no point. The news would spread anyway. Those people just went there for the food and some gaily talk. I am not into chit-chats—waste of time. Besides, after that event, people would go here and buy decorations for their homes. I have to stay alert before my competitors take advantage of me."

Realizing the seller's sentiments, Lady Seo chuckled and discreetly requested their hwarang escorts to proceed. In reality, the common class had the most unsurpassable enthusiasm about Heaven's judgment. Their daily lives for the succeeding thirty-three years would depend on it. It would dictate the whole basic questions in every aspect of their living. Planting, harvesting, marriage, or even childbirth. They were chained and obligated to follow the rules for them to survive. On top of that, the ceremony per se would give them a chance to get even a teaspoon of free high-class food from the palace, which they could not afford. However, for the nobility, this was one of the perfect times to socialize and talk about political issues, alliances, and more. Whether the Heavens decided to doom or bless the kingdom, they could easily brush their fingers off, for they knew they could survive even the most devastating disaster. They could rise from the ashes and start over again easily.

Lady Seo shook her head to get those thoughts out of her head. She closed the window and talked to her master, whose mind was occupied reading a war book. "Young Lord, we're only a few steps away from the palace. Aren't you excited?"

Jung Min did not respond; his face was as long as the tracks they had traveled.

"Are you nervous?"

The boy glanced and nodded, biting his lips. The matron held his hands and delivered a heartwarming smile. "I'm here, Young Lord. I'll never leave you. Now smile for me, will you?"

With a dazzled face and a peaceful heart, his tiny red lips curled up, which lightened the matron's day. Her definition of success.

"There you go... You are ready."

~~•~~

Compared to the austere image the little boy had painted, it was no match with the cheers, and the hurrahs of the loud tweeting flight of the palace. When they heard the King's pronouncement—"I declare that the solar eclipse would not occur for the first time in its thirty-three year cycle..."

"... bountiful and abundant years ahead!"—, pure joy and happiness conquered their wary hearts. Alas! The Heavens had finally sealed their decision. Good luck, after good luck, after good luck! Unending benevolence for the best citizens of the holiest kingdom. Their uncontainable rejoice and aspirations spread like a wildfire. The burning red in their spirits pledged only of alliance and faithfulness to their rulers and the almighty deities up above.

"Long live, our King!"

"Long live, Silla!"

"Long live!"

Every word that the King said transcended deep within their souls and their hearts were finally at peace.

There was a feast under the feeble sunlight of the late afternoon. A sacred event suddenly turned into a festive celebration. The courtesans assembled in the middle and danced. Inspired musicians strummed their string instruments and banged their drums with pure delight. Royal maids served food to everyone with permanent beams on their faces. People sang songs of praises as they raised their glasses and pranced, danced, and twirled with their families while hailing the name of their beloved nation.

Jae Joong sat back on his throne after blessing the holy egg of their great ancestor. He joined the council members and enjoyed the marvelous sight of their ecstatic people. Then he heard Lady Min utter her amusement. A simple statement of validation. "I cannot believe this surreal moment. It was true. The sun is bright, and there is no eclipse. Congratulations, Your Majesty."

"We should thank the compassionate Heavens for this kindness. Only the best for the people of Silla."

The Prime Minister craned to Lady Min; his eyes narrowed and lips pursed into a thin line, signaling her to shut her mouth. His life force receded, dwindling and spiraling down to the grave of frustration and regrets. All of his efforts were wasted. The big opportunity to control the King and make him the most hated person in the kingdom crashed to a billion pieces. The shining diamond on his palm turned into hard futile rock.

It was over!

The glitters of hatred grew into a big unforgiving fire.

Jung Ho rolled his eyes and spoke, "So did I. This is the first time that I have witnessed this. I guess Lady Jang was right all along." He looked up at the clear skies. Tears hiding on the edge of his eyes glistened under the frail sunlight. "No eclipse."

He turned to the King on his left and sprinkled sugar to his bitter tongue. "Allow me to congratulate you, Sire. You made it. Look at the pleasant crowd. Isn't that what our Father King had always wanted? A place full of contentment. I'm glad that these people have all possible favors of different kinds, ready at the tips of their fingers. All they have to do is pray a lot and give abundant offerings to the Gods. What a wonderful life! My heart melts with this amusing sight. After all, it's always for the people. Isn't it right, Your Majesty?"

"Certainly. Everything happened just as planned." Jae Joong savored the joyous sound of the crowd. Every beat of their laughter was the best music to his ears. After months of preparation, splintered with razor doubts, threats, and personal struggles, he could finally scream at the top of his lungs the sweetest words of victory. We did a great job!

Such a pity for Jung Ho, for all he could do was to cast a crocodile smile and observe the King. You did it, Sire. You won. I lost.

After a few uncomfortable seconds, Chil Yook brought his face near the Prime Minister's ear and whispered, "My Lord, you said that you have a plan, just in case things don't go accordingly as planned."

The Prime Minister closed his eyes, his shoulders folded like a wilting flower. He stood awkwardly like a stump and scanned the whole crowd. Jae Joong frowned, puzzled by his brother's strange demeanor. Eventually, the color of the festivity overthrew his suspicion. He ignored him, honored his privilege of personal space, and respected his time to mourn for his loss.

Jung Ho walked out and strode down the dais without any word, without any follower.

Chil Yook tried to follow him but Lady Min grabbed his arm before he could take a step.

"Don't," warned her.

"Where is he going?"

The elder matron sighed. "I have no idea."

~~•~~

Almost an hour had passed, and the busy buzzing bees were still on the peak of their blithe moods to bounce on the endless rhythm. All had eaten a lot and had drunk a barrel, and yet nothing could stop them from losing their heads in the heat of the buoyant revelry. A bizarre magic of time in the enchanted space made every second felt new.

But everything changed when the music that once fluttered in the air came to a sudden halt. Everyone was left dumbstruck with the outburst of the momentum. Their bodies vomited their souls, and they became slaves of the ambiguous unknown.

Sunny peals of laughter downgraded to cloudy whispers of apprehension.

"What is happening?"

"Why did it stop?"

"Is there another announcement?"

Out of nowhere, the wooden bars were removed, and the main gate opened. A group of hwarangs—the red, purple, and green—lined up and marched at the center of the palace grounds. As the buckled boots stomped on the brick floors and the iron-vest accessories clanked, everyone was left wondering, their locked jaws hanging. No one knew who they were. No one recognized what they were for.

People stretched their necks out, wondering what lay at the end of the mysterious line. At the very last step of the last hwarang, a figure of a desolate man emerged—the Prime Minister in pristine-white robe, ghastly-pale face, shoulder-length hair unkempt, and naked feet—his most unexpected physical appearance. A century-old hermit living on the dark sides of Mount Taebaek.

He walked straight down the carpet. The radiance of the breeze froze into tingling shivers, slithering down each person's spine as the piercing sound of nothingness fell, convoyed by a strong gust of cold wind.

The Prime Minister stopped at the center, turned around and studied the people, "I congratulate each one of you!" his voice cold and gravely deep.

Jae Joong sprung from his seat. What's the meaning of this? His heart slammed his chest like a prisoner clamoring for freedom. A sense of terrible trepidation plagued his head. No. Why is he doing this? What are you planning, Jung Ho?

His curiosity and frustration to figure out the intruder's crazy schemes were killing him. He had no choice but to wait, for a simple rage might backfire at him with double the rate. Even the Prime Minister's minions did not know what was happening. Standing still behind their master's empty seat, Lady Min and Chil Yook were tortured with confusion.

"Do you know anything about this?" asked the matron.

Chil Yook stuttered. "N-no-no! Do you think this is his second plan?"

"I sense something reprehensible, Chil Yook."

People felt a heavy ambiance with what was currently happening, like a huge boulder standing on their chests. Their anxious mind and growing fear sucked the featherweight undertone until nothing was left but a full blanket of terror. The power of unified denial was their only weapon to salvage their drowning hopes and dreams. If their minds could talk with each other, they would probably say: The eclipse won't happen. The eclipse won't happen! The eclipse won't happen! Help us, dear Heavens!

Jung Ho smashed the shackles of their telepathic messages as he cleared his throat and announced, "Everyone, as the King's dear brother, I, as well, have a gift for all of you."

"What is it? We've had enough gifts!" a random merchant barked.

He ambled to the Najeong Well, where the Head Priestess did the rite of the ceremony. Lifting the Holy Egg with his bare hands, he closed his eyes and mouthed an unknown chant, only audible to his ears. The blasphemous act enraged and transformed the crowd into spitting serpents.

"How dare you ridicule the ceremony?" a female peasant hissed.

Rants and curses, piled up to one another, were all they could afford, for the Prime Minister's walls of protection were stronger than all their numbers doubled. The hwarang's bond of unity and loyalty was a force not to be tested. They wanted to strike and slap the Prime Minister for his deliberate travesty, but those furies were contained to the fingers of their helpless palms.

When Jung Ho arched his lids, he dropped the Holy Egg slowly on the top of the well. As the freezing zephyr blew his face, he unleashed a declaration that quivered the entire palace.

"People of Silla! Witness!... Witness the real mandate of the Heavens!"

He raised his arms and lifted his head to the skies. Like a roaring tiger, the Prime Minister's voice resonated on all the four corners of the palace walls. Everyone looked at the azure roof with mixed emotions. Some were confused, while others were terrified that the eclipse might occur.

Nothing happened when they faced their anticipated fear. The saffron ball lingered on his spot, and the petrified shadow of the moon dared no single step to take his wicked action.

"Now what? What was in the sky?" A young farmer growled, his fists rebelling and punching mid-air.

"Everyone, the eclipse will not happen! It has been proclaimed by the King." A middle-aged fisherman consoled. He shot a roasting glare at the Prime Minister who just caused a senseless turmoil in the palace. Indistinct chatters rumbled inside the confined space of the commoners. Even the governors, who were sitting below the dais, watching the mortifying show, felt extremely ashamed of what the Prime Minister did. That particular scenario did not cross even their wildest imagination. Ironically, Jung Ho wanted more hwarangs to guard the whole palace against someone who might cause a ruckus, but evidently, he was the one who made a very unpleasant scene.

He got down on his knees, shut his eyes (again), and spread his arm like a man getting ready to be sacrificed. A sinister grin formed from his mouth and people on the dais began gossiping about his theatrics again.

"What is the Prime Minister doing? Shouldn't we stop him by now?" Chil Yook asked, his fingers tapping the back of the chair.

Lady Min patted his shoulder. "I don't know. Maybe not. I have a bad feeling about this but I do trust him. He wouldn't do anything without thinking about it."

"I know, but this is different. Can't you see? He's ruining himself. I should've stopped him a while ago. Is this how he copes up with his defeat or is this the beginning of something terrifying? I am really uneasy right now."

"All of us are."

The wrath of the clueless rabble aggravated as more and more people from the inner circle gathered their forces to unbridle and breach the human barricades, shielding the Prime Minister.

"Get out of there! You are just ruining the party!"

The King finally decided to take action. He ordered the yellow group hwarangs to escort the Prime Minister and to save him from further humiliation. The military rushed to the center, all equipped with their spears and iron armors, but the Prime Minister's security, fueled with their unwavering loyalty, drew their swords against them. Eyes to eyes. Fire to fire. No one would back down.

The crowd stopped as they witnessed the wick of an internal war.

When the King's last thread of patience ran out, he stomped down the courtyard to do the negotiation firsthand. If the crowd, whom Jung Ho clamored he loved the most, could not pacify his madness, perhaps his golden fist could.

"Stand up and get back to your seat, Prime Minister or else this will be considered as an act of treason!" Jae Joong's stone-cold eyes paired with his frigid voice represented the last yarn of composure that could vanish entirely if Jung Ho would not submit.

Then after a while, people noticed the gradual alteration in the colors of the surroundings. The cape of faint shadows ran in the air, cloaking the entire atmosphere. Howls, wails, and suppressed cries permeated as the thin layers of gloomy stratus herd merged with isolated pieces of cirrus flock, wrapping the whole kingdom in a counterpane of pale darkness.

"Look at the skies, everyone!"

As the crowd briefly tilted their heads up, their mouths grew wide, and their bodies mummified in tremendous shock and bareness.

The mischievous shadow of the moon engulfed the helpless ball of the warrior inferno.

__________

NOTES:

Ahjussi (아주씨) - a Korean honorific term for mister.

Ahjumeoni (아주머니) - a Korean honorific term for old lady.

Mount Taebaek (태백) - a long mountain range in the eastern part of Korea.