Playing Among The Stars | Minsung

- Ch. 9 -

"I just don't think it's a good idea to reveal ourselves to The Mainland!"

"What have they done for us in the past? Besides the slaughter of our people?"

"And how would revealing ourselves benefit us or them?"

"We've fared fine by ourselves for many millennia, maybe more to come! Why now when we're still prospering and at our peak?"

"Wait, a minute." Minho glances to the stranger that kept him from walking further into the longhouse, holding his sleeve, gesturing to the cluster of people on the other side of the longhouse, standing before another sitting on a wooden throne. Instead, the stranger makes Minho wait by the entrance, standing under the shadows provided by the wooden mezzanine.

The interior was as grand as the outside: polished timber with intricate designs carved into the supporting wood arching across the ceiling. There was a long hearth in the middle along with other candles and lights that gave the entire building a warm glow. To the sides of the hearth were long tables; empty for now, but Minho could only imagine how they would overflow with food and liquor during a feast. The walls were decorated with multiple trophies of animal heads Minho thought were already extinct or only found in legends such as the dragons: a white stag, a golden boar, Nuckelavees, Wargs, and more. Overhead, was a roof of stained glass in the middle of the entire building, the sun shining colors down onto the floor below to keep the interior from being too stuffy.

It smelt of wood and a faded scent of a feast, a very homely smell compared to the forest outside.

"I already told you before. I had a vision—Ahnjong talked to me. Why don't you listen? My father tried to reform our society, yet you didn't listen to him. His father too, and his father's father. You continue to grow stubborn." Walking along the walls toward the throne, Minho could see more of the leader in the middle of the surrounding group, the sunlight passing through the stained glass overhead shining specifically on and the areas around him.

He had white hair, his narrow, dark eyes stern, accentuating his equally narrow face. He stood tall before those who stood before him. Unlike the stranger and the other warriors around him. He wore armor similar to the warriors standing before him, though much more grand, with golden embellishing of leaves and patterns. He wore a red furred cloak hanging off his shoulders, kept together with some sort of large golden dragon brooch. To signify his leadership, he also wore a golden circlet, golden leaves that circled his head in some sort of shining halo.

"You all complain, and you're right—this doesn't benefit us or them. It won't bring harm to us, so why do you all reject it? If we keep isolating ourselves, it'll only be a matter of time before we fall into our own selfishness and powers," He says, his voice echoing throughout the empty longhouse. "How much longer can we contain the future generation who long for more power? The dragons aren't a problem, we know that. But it's only a matter of time before someone would want more power for themselves."

"And you think it's better for outsiders to have access to those powers?" One asks, others agreeing. "You and I—everyone knows that's a bad idea."

"So you would rather have your children, and your children's children to continue with our traditions? They're only speeding up the inevitable. You'd rather stay ignorant for your own selfish needs. Right, because that's what our ancestors did—what we're taught to do, isn't it?"

Silence befalls the group, lowering their heads to avoid the glare their leader had on them. While others had retaliations at the tip of their tongue, most were keen enough to keep their mouths shut. With a sigh, the leader dismisses them, the group of warriors exiting the longhouse to leave their leader alone.