Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Super Junior belong to themselves and Disney interpretation of Pocahontas belongs to Walt Disney.
Summary: Han Geng has always ventured out into the world - but one day, the world ventured to him.
Only this morning, Han Geng had come to Grandfather Dong Xi with such a bright disposition. Now, he cried before the tearful spirit, so very lost in himself.
“My child,” Grandfather Dong Xi comforted. He stared upon this boy, for in the middle of this all, Han Geng was no more than a boy at heart. This boy with wounds on his heart worse than the cuts on his body from running blindly into the woods. “This world, cruel though it may be, is made up of greetings and partings. Without that, we would never know what the future holds.”
Han Geng shook his head, pushing himself enough to sit up and face the tree. “They will fight, Grandfather, and I am sure that many warriors will die before this is over.” Han Geng shook his head, breathing deeply. “My heart is so lost, I do not think it is with me.”
Grandfather Dong Xi sighed and the wind blew cold. “Mayhaps, it has grown too quiet.” Han Geng shrugged. He yearned to return to that other world where he felt nothing at all.
Between the leaves, RongRong fussed through, chirping loudly. A moment later, MaoMao scattered through, nibbling at something that should not have been nibbled. He climbed in Han Geng's lap, continuing to bite and pick. Han Geng removed it before his friend was hurt. He found it to be the compass with the trapped arrow spinning madly.
The spinning arrow.
“It's the arrow from your dream, child!” Grandfather Dong Xi exclaimed. As Han Geng stared and as the arrow spun, suddenly the water cleared from his mind. Something was bright as a newborn's first sight. And Han Geng could finally think.
The arrow suddenly stopped, staring straight before Han Geng. Through the leaves, peaks of gold and amber touched Han Geng. “Sunrise...”
“Go on, Han Geng!” Grandfather Dong Xi declared. “With the spirits of the Earth and Sky, run!”
With heart, body, and mind all together, Han Geng set forward. As if they were thankful, the trees bent for him. No more thorns catching his skin or branches tangling themselves around his limbs and he ran on the wings of birds.
At the clearing, the sunrise burned the sky red. The central fire was put out and Kibum lay across it, resigned with his eyes closed. At the edges of the camp, there were tall, round men with strange sticks and hatred in their eyes. The Nanai, the Koreans, were all waiting on bated breath as Zhou Mi raised his staff.
“No!” Han Gengthrew himself over Kibum's body. Over the fire, he cradled Kibum's head to his chest. He heard the gasps all around him, murmurings in his own languages and not, but he would not move. His eyes rose to meet his father's.
Zhou Mi stared down upon his, lowering his staff ever so slightly. “Wo er zi, what are you doing? Move aside.”
“I will not, Father.” Han Geng spoke with such an even tone that it nearly frightened him; he had never heard it before. “This is the path I choose, Father. What will yours be?” Carefully, he stood up. “Look around you. This is where the path of hatred has brought us.” At his words, the warriors looked upon themselves, at the fear that rattled their bones and scared the people. But Han Geng only had eyes for his father. “Will you listen to your heart, Father, or will you listen to the drums of war?”
The Nanai stared at him – he felt it – and then, to his father. So very slowly, the world stood on the tip of Zhou Mi's finger. Destruction or reconstruction – it all relied on him.
“The world is spinning to a great battle.” Zhou Mi called out to the world. “But if there is to be killing,” He whispered. Han Geng kept his breath as that deadly staff to the ground, “it will not start with me.”
Han Geng's face lit up in happiness. In a flash, he pulled Kibum to sit up, fumbling to untie his bonds. Kibum smiled, holding Han Geng's hand once his were free as if he had been starved and Han Geng was food.
Zhou Mi placed his hand on his son's shoulder. Han Geng turned Kibum and to his surprise, the Korean bowed deeper than any Nanai had ever displayed. “Ni hao, Great King.” Zhou Mi, also and at last, fell victim to Kibum's charm.
When Kibum straightened to his full height, he did not, however, have that witty smile in his expression. His tired hands pushed forward and forced Zhou Mi onto his back. The Nanai were greatly upset by this until a crack of thunder shook them all and sent them to the floor.
When Han Geng recovered, his father was slowly gathering to his feet. And Kibum was on the ground, blood staining his torso.
---> Chapter 7