When The Moon Hangs Low [ATEEZ]

Chapter Two

It was a hit in the hand that made Wooyoung lose his grip, and another in the ankle that made him tumble and kneel. The ax fell down with a loud clang against the ground and so did he with his silver adornments that hang low in his neck.

"I expected less from you if I am quite honest, my Prince. All the others preferred to beg."

Wooyoung yelped in surprise when his legs were pulled, attempting to scratch and scrape and reach for his weapon as he got farther and farther away from it. He twisted and turned until they were looking at each other again, but this time, it was the Prince lying on the cold, hard ground.

"Do not worry, Prince." San's eyes shone of superiority and Wooyoung's glinted back with fury. "I do not intend to wound my future consort. Hearsay, I am one of romance afterall."

It all happened too quickly.

San did not know what possessed the little Prince, but all he is sure of is that the Gods were involved. Wooyoung panted. Blood smeared on his ax, dripping down below. It hissed in contact with the stone.

"You are a magic-wielder?" San let his wound be, tensing as it slowly healed.

Wooyoung did not answer. He attacked again, taking advantage of the knight's injury. San dodged every hit, for that is the only thing he is capable of for now. Even a creature like him cannot go against what the Gods have favored, at least without being in full strength.

"Or perhaps you are one of those descendants of Gods whose responsibility is far too much to handle one more fledgling?" San continued.

"Shut up."

This is easy, Wooyoung thought to himself. Those stories are surely exaggerated.

"Alright, I have had enough of you showing off, Your Majesty." San grinned, all the while Wooyoung stood back in surprise.

A growl left the knight's throat, contrasting with the notes he had sung before. San's eyes changed, they were no longer as black as his armor, instead they became as silvery as how an iron would be.

"Your eyes," Wooyoung whispered. "They've changed."

Wooyoung loosened his grip before coming back to reality. He snarled, brows furrowed and eyes gazing away from those of San's.

"My Prince..."

Wooyoung held back. "You are not human." He confronted.

"You have such beautiful eyes."

All San needed was a distraction, and all it took was a compliment for Wooyoung.

San striked forward, hitting the Prince by surprise. The moment have passed. Wooyoung was too far behind and San had gone too forward. Both of them needed enough strength to break the other's weapon. Perhaps it was a mistake Wooyoung had overlooked before it began, a mistake he should have realized earlier and not this late.

The Mountain never lost a duel, which meant no one has ever managed to fracture his weapons, especially the sword he carried ever since he was a child. While Wooyoung's were of silver and gold, the strength of the knight alone can break it if he liked it to be broken.

And broke it did.

Wooyoung gasped in horror as his ax tumbled down, cracks turned into splits as it hit the ground far too brutally. He knelt down quickly, attempting to mend it back together with power he did not possess yet.

"My agápi.."

"I am very sorry, my Prince, but a duel is a duel, and I am one to respect its rules."

Indeed. A duel is a duel, and one as respectable and as princely as Wooyoung need knows to value its rulings. The Gods were involved, a pact and a promise they made before, Wooyoung cannot afford to displease something much higher than anything he's ever seen.

With a final exhale, he accepted defeat.

The knight's armor was hard and cold in his back. The journey back to the gates of Aurora was not long to take fortnights, but long enough to help Wooyoung realize the intensity of San's bargain.

He was a Prince. The youngest of all that, how does one have enough shame to wed before his siblings? Before the heir? To present a suitor was unmannerly, much less a spouse.

The horse stepped on a rock, making Wooyoung flush against San once more.

"I cannot do this," he whispered.

"You promised, My Prince, remember? To Gods and all."

To Gods and all. "You do not have to fret, it is all but real. An arrangement; to help the Mountain whose stories are bare to the world. I did not even have the privilege of having your name."

Wooyoung licked his lips and sighed.

"I am Kim Wooyoung." The Prince declared.

San smirked, "Would the Prince of Aurora consider changing his last name to Choi?"

Wooyoung sighed, to Gods and all.

Wooyoung was six, he remembers, when he was riding through the forest on the sun's peak just as now. He carried with him the naivety of a child and the curiosity of a man. The woman in front of him was smiling widely, like how his father would whenever he would take he and his brothers to his waterfall.

Suddenly, the horse stopped, and the young Prince looked over to see why. There stood one of his fathers in his courtly attire, and the other who looked straight at him with emotions he could not fathom.

A blink of an eye and Wooyoung laid gently on his quarters, unaware of the blood shed on the King's hands. He looked peaceful, as if this is where he was supposed to be, as if his father had not interrupted fate yet again.

That night, his brothers came to sleep beside him, as well as his fathers. They do that whenever it occurs, and Wooyoung can always remember it every single time, treasures the dreams he has. Those nights when all he can see is nothing but the darkness when his eyes have gone to sleep. It almost made her disappear.

Then someone would always wake him up after, Wake up, Wooyoung.

Wake up. Wake up. "Wake up, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung opened his eyes, he seemed to have fallen asleep for hours, he did not even realize. What greeted him was San, and another behind him, "We have arrived."

He was home.