“The way out is thru the door. Why is
it that no one will use
this method?” = Confucius
Back at the
dining hall, the meal had ended, and the King now sat inside a separate room
the monks had designated as his meeting room.
So soon
after his arrival, the small table in front of him already contained a small
stack of documents for him to review.
Even while travelling, the requests continued to pour in.
The soldier
outside the door announced, “Your Majesty, the monks you requested to meet with
you are here.” The doors opened. Two monks entered the room and bowed.
The first monk
was older and held a cloth wrapped book in his arms. The second was young. He looked nervous and
eager to start. He carried two scrolls in his hands.
The older monk
approached the King first, “My name is Leom.” Then, gesturing to the young monk
next to him he added, “This is Gyeo.”
The King
addressed them, “The Abbot tells me you have made some progress deciphering the
book.” He gestured for the monks to approach.
Leom
answered, “We have, your Majesty. It has been very slow progress, since we have
had nothing to use as reference for deciphering the symbols, but we believe the
repetition of those symbols and clues left in the book might have given us
enough information to piece together a basic understanding.”
Leom turned
and looked at Gyoe. Both stood quiet for a moment.
“How did you manage to make sense of the
characters?” The King asked.
Gyoe
approached the King, with eagerness. He opened the book, pointing to one of the
pages. “The symbols in this page are different from the rest.” He looked up and
added, “They were our first clue and have helped build a key from which to
start unlocking its mysteries.”
With
building excitement in his voice, “We believe they represent a specific order
value.”
The King
looked at Gyoe confused.
Leom,
stepped in, reading from the book while pointing to the page, “8, 9, 10, 13, ...”
With a
satisfied smile on his face he added, “We believe the page refers to the Royal
Prince’s birth order Your Majesty.”
Gyoe,
started to read slowly, trying to make sense of the words and pointing to the
page where the symbols were. “8th Prince, 9th Prince, 10th
Prince, 13th Prince…”
“This helped
us find the symbols for ‘Prince’.” The young monk stopped for a minute in deep
concentration.
Then, as if
a light had turned on suddenly for him, he continued, “Also, there is a picture
and writing on another page. We believe it is a picture of the Royal baths.”
His fingers
quickly located the picture, with the familiarity of someone who had spent many
hours with the book. “There are more symbols next to it…. We believe it is a
reference to the Daminwon.”
“We still
need to work on deciphering many parts, but we believe we have the meaning of
some of the text on this page” and then he added as an afterthought, “The book
seems to be the writing or recordings of someone travelling to a new place.”
Finishing, Gyoe’s
eyes shined with pride in the work they had completed, “We have also brought with
us in these scrolls other parts of the book we have deciphered, Your Majesty.”
“What do they say?” The King asked.
Gyoe opened the first scroll.
“This is the first part of the page.” and
read,
I am here.
I am Hae Jin…
Gyoe, stopped
and looked up from his reading.
The King
stayed quiet, deep in his thoughts for a moment.
Then
addressed them, “Leom. Gyoe. You will continue to work on the rest of the
book?”
Both monks nodded,
and Leom added, “Of course, your Majesty. With your permission.”
“Then I will
be speaking to the Abbot.”
“You will be
residing at the Royal Palace as advisers to the
King. You will report directly
to me and will not share any of
this information with anyone else.”
“Leave the
book and your findings here with me tonight. You may continue working on it
tomorrow.”
“Prepare to
leave at the end of the festival.”
Both monks
stood for a moment in stunned silence, “Yes, your
Majesty.” They said together.
They bowed to the King before exiting.
Once alone, The
King continued reading the scrolls and the translation the monks had completed
for the rest of the pages.
Memories
came back to him, of all the times the Daminwon had been the setting of
intrigue, inside the palace. Beginning with Hae Soo’s first appearance at the
Prince’s bath to King Mu’s death.
A memory
rushed at him vividly. It was of Hae Soo and him
walking the palace grounds to
stand by the lake.
He had said
to Hae Soo,
“The Late
King Taejo’s last words to me were that life was fleeting.
That it is short and
all in vain…”
“But I think
that he was wrong.”
“You and I
are together like this. So how could it be in vain?”
Hae Soo had
stood quietly by that lake contemplating in that still manner that worried him
and made him feel like she could disappear at any moment.
He asked
her,
“What are
you afraid of?”
“What are
you hiding?”
She shared how anxious the palace made her feel.
Then, her
demeanor quickly changed. Happiness filled her eyes.
Her voice was full of longing when she told
him,
“If only we had met in another world,”
“At another time…”
“I was thinking how great that would
be.”
“If that could be, I wouldn’t fear
anything.”
“I could truly and freely love you
all I wanted.”
The memory faded.
The King’s hand rested on the
translated words in the book.
For a minute frustration overtook
him.
What had Hae Soo been afraid of?
He felt as if he could reach the
answers that eluded him.
He extended his hand as if he could
grasp the answers from thin air. If only the mist would lift and make them
clear.
He remembered how this book had been
brought to him by Queen
Hwangbo in the early days of his reign.
She had set spies on Hae Soo and taken
the book from her room at the Damiwon.
The Queen believed this finding would
win favor with the King and cast suspicion on Hae Soo. That it would allow her
daughter to be favored as his new Queen and make Hae Soo seem an unsuitable
choice.
This book now represented the key to
Hae Soo’s thoughts and perhaps to the one thing she kept hiding and always
seemed afraid of.
He reached into the chest and set her
last painting of him, next to the book.
By painting their portraits onto rocks, she had captured the memory of him and the princes.
By painting their portraits onto rocks, she had captured the memory of him and the princes.
The passage of years had allowed him
to understand the longing to
remember every detail in a loved face and made him
realize he had no art, no painted image of her to help him remember the outline
of her face.
As many paintings as the 13th
Prince had drawn, did any have Hae Soo in them?
Even her handwriting resembled his
own.
Why had he not realized sooner her
handwriting had changed?
He reached inside the chest. Paper after paper spread on his table.
The poem repeated in each page, like
a prayer.
She had copied the poem until her
handwriting bled its own identity and transformed into his. The similarity of
Hae Soo’s handwriting to the King’s had sealed the ending for them. He had not
been there with her at the end.
Despite everything, she had held onto
hope.
Those words he had written to her then,
Now became his prayer,
When the water has run dry.
Sit and watch the rising cloud *(1)
The King opened the scroll, tracing the symbols with his finger,
I travel… Goryeo…. water…. Damiwon…. Years.
I am here.
He stopped and
spoke his thoughts out loud.
“I need to find the door to you….
Help me, Hae Soo.”
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