Set
(three)
The seas were always so beautiful at that time of morning. When the sun decided to kiss the horizon and show its love to the expanse, bleeding shades of lilac, reds and oranges as its offering. The gentle lap of the waves always calmed her and mornings like these she enjoyed feeling the sand gather between her toes.
"Tiye." Turning towards the warm voice, the face of her mother appeared. Face painted with a declaration of war, small delicate nubs decorated the length of her jawline, covered in the paint. Her hair, long thick braids had been fashioned as if she wore a crown, some of then jutting from her scalp as to resemble the pointy golden spikes the pale faced royals wore across the sea.
"Mama..." The woman smiled gently, reaching to tease her own braids.
"It is time to awaken my child. It is time to fight."
"Fight? What am I to fight for?"
"The one who owns your heart." Confusion etched into her features.
"There is no one who owns my heart." Her mother laughed and it was deep and warm, like it always had been. Strong but loving.
"You shall see child. What it is I speak of. And then you must decide what you will do." Her heart began to beat faster and before she could reply, the look of before on her mother's face was one of horror. She was further away than she had been before which struck her as strange.
"TIYE!" Turning towards the sea, a man came at her with an ax and swung.
***
Been taken by surprise, she didn't have enough time to run and right before it collided with her skull, she awakened. She screamed, shooting up, clutching the pallet beneath her.
"Yah! Shut up! You're too loud!" One of the other servant girls complained, turning away from her.
Lifting shaky hands to her face, she felt the sticky sweat. The fear. The confusion. Pulling back the covers, she took her time standing, her chima soaked with sweat. Desperate for the moisture to cool, she slipped outside, quietly taking in the cool morning air. Today was the day. The day she was supposed to spar with Wangja-nim. He'd told her about it days earlier and from the moment he said it, something about it seemed off. He'd told her that it wasn't going to be a play fight. She'd have to really fight. The seriousness in his face and in his voice gave her chills. Something was not right.
"So you are awake then." Turning, she found him standing in front of her, clothed in baji and an elaborate jeoguri. He appeared to have just awakened himself, his hair messy, eyes heavy as though he hadn't slept well.
"Is it time?" She asked softly, suddenly wishing she'd grabbed her own jeogori, the air now chilling her bare shoulders.
"Not quite yet but soon it will be. Father wishes to commence with this early."
"Will you come to get me?" Sighing, he lifted his gaze and their eyes met.
"I will."
"Wangja-nim-"
"You look cold." Stepping up the few stairs, he untied the small belt to his jeoguri and opened it, inviting her to step into its warm confinement. An invitation she accepted and for a moment, she reveled in his body heat as it chased the shudders and chill away. Closing the jeogori around her, he wrapped arms around her, holding her close.
