Chapter Text
In a world where alphas were the top of the hierarchy, there existed a subset of alphas and omegas with innate spiritual powers bestowed upon the royal blood pulsing through their veins. Their powers allowed them to rule with absolute control over the vast land where four empires existed in harmony.
The Western Empire was ruled by an aged widow alpha, Empress Ahn Hyeo, soon to be succeeded by her alpha daughter, Princess Ahn Hae. The west was the land rich in natural resources. They alone supplied the majority of all resources to the remaining three empires.
The Northern Empire belonged to Emperor Kim Hajeong, who came from a long lineage of royal male alphas. He ruled the land with Empress Soo Chaesol, an omega with royal blood ties from the Eastern Empire. As their land was prone to coldness, and therefore lacked resources, the people of the north devoted themselves to become masters of medicines and skilled entertainers in music, dance, and all other forms of art. Where their land lacked resources, they made up with talented individuals who were highly sought after by other empires. Northerners were the healers of the body and soul.
Emperor Hwang Heon ruled the Eastern Empire. He was the first alpha emperor after four hundred years of continual rule by alpha empresses. The emperor married Empress Kang Rahee and the couple had two children, Prince Hwang Hyunjin and Princess Hwang Hyeja. The east was the land blessed with lush soil. Wheat, plants, flowers, anything that could be grown from the earth were being grown here. Not only were they the main supplier of food and produce, they also supplied an abundance of textile to the three neighboring empires.
The Southern Empire was under the ruling of a lone young emperor, Lee Minho. He ascended the throne at the mere age of eighteen upon the passing of his father, Emperor Lee Minjeong.
It was said that his birth brought calamity upon their land. History had it that the day he was born was the hottest day ever recorded in the Southern Empire. The citizens recounted witnessing the earth beneath their feet rapidly drying up; cracking as water evaporated under the pressure of the rising heat. Plants, trees, and flowers all withered down to their roots the morning Empress Baek Saehwa went into labor.
Crown Prince Lee Minho was born when the sun was the highest in the sky that day. It was known that the empress died soon after giving birth to her only child, having succumbed to the fiery energy emitted from the infant’s body.
To the people of the Southern Empire, Minho’s existence was a living curse and a constant reminder of the passing of their beloved Empress Baek Saehwa.
According to official records, one fateful night hundreds of years ago, the Grand Historian from the Western Empire reportedly witnessed strange movements in the black sky. Stars and planets were aligning in unprecedented patterns. Astonished by the event, he spent the remaining years of his life dedicated to researching different astrology configurations, studying any and all historical records he could find across the four empires.
As if pitied by the wrinkles on his aged body and the gray of his hair—or lack thereof—fortune graced upon him. In the final year of his life, he successfully managed to piece together the puzzle of the enigmatic constellation. Before his death, the Grand Historian reported his findings to the emperor of the Western Empire and published the details in the official records of the four empires. This record was made into multiple copies and sent to the rest of the land.
Prophecy has it that when the alpha with royal blood is born with the essence of the Fire Dragon, the four empires will be at risk of losing the balance which allows them to exist in harmony over the past thousand years. The alpha with the ability to wield fire at his will alone inherits the ultimate spiritual power. He who carries the essence of the Fire Dragon conquers all. However, should the carrier of its power fail to master and control the fiery force surging through his body, he shall succumb to madness, and along with it, burn the four empires to ashes.
Fear spread like wild fire among the people across the land.
This was uncharted water. Never once in history had there been any alpha or omega born with a power so supreme and dangerous. There weren’t any records of how such ability can be contained or trained to be used with controlled precision.
With no answer to quell their fears, the people’s only hope was that should the prophecy be inevitable that the second part of it would also come true.
Fortunately, the world exists under the law of equilibrium. As such, soon after, the four empires will be blessed with the birth of the royal omega who carries the essence of the Ice Phoenix. With the icy energy that reigns within the body, the carrier of the Ice Phoenix essence will be the sole person with the power to soothe the flames of the Fire Dragon. Only when the Ice Phoenix and Fire Dragon come together can the four empires continue to exist in balance and prosperity.
The prophecy had been passed down from generations of ruling royalties, yet no one truly knew if this was some mad delusion the Grand Historian conjured up from one of his nights obsessing over the constellation, or if the prophecy was true words decreed by the gods above them.
What was true was that everyone across the plains had unanimously prayed that no such alpha would ever be born.
Against their wishes, such alpha was born into the world.
None truer than the words of the prophecy, two years after Prince Lee Minho was born in the Southern Empire, far up in the cold region, the Northern Empire welcomed its very own royal prince.
On the first day of autumn, citizens of the Northern Empire woke up to temperatures falling below freezing level. Their faces wrinkled as the icy air permeated their lungs with each breath. They glanced at each other with concerned looks as the land beneath their feet was now covered in a thick layer of snow. Distance away, the river by the outskirts of the capital had frozen overnight. All the portents pointed toward the predestined fate as stated in the Grand Historian's prophecy.
Trepidation enveloped the Northern Empire.
On the twenty-second day of the ninth month, the coldest night in history, Prince Kim Seungmin was born.
Inside the imperial chamber, Emperor Hajeong looked at his empress and their infant son in her arms, his gaze layered with sadness, regret, and concern.
Snow fell heedlessly outside their window, indifferent to the cruelty its presence signified.
Empress Chaesol’s weary eyes lingered helplessly at the scene outside, unable to hold back the burning tears welling in them.
They both knew what this meant.
The long stretch of silence only made reality sink in deeper.
Unable to keep her composure with the stupefying foreboding of the prophecy, she cradled their son closer to her chest, sobbing pitifully. “I don’t want it to be our son.”
Emperor Hajeong quickly sat down by the bedside. “Maybe–maybe it won’t be him.” He held her face, dampened with tears, in his hands. “The prophecy also said that the carrier of the Ice Phoenix essence will present as an omega. We don’t know what our son will be. There is hope, my love,” he said in a soft voice, trying his best to console both the empress and himself.
Despite his best effort, his comforting words only caused Empress Chaesol to cry even more. They both desperately wanted to believe that it wasn’t their son who would share this fate with the prince from the south. But neither of them could delude themselves into thinking so. In all of history, Minho was the one and only Fire Dragon, and Seungmin was the first ever Ice Phoenix to be born. There could be no such a coincidence.
While his parents were drowning in despair, Seungmin lay cocooned in his mother’s arms, blissfully unaware of the future awaiting him.
On his nape, a red birthmark in the shape of a phoenix was visible.
News of Prince Kim Seungmin’s birth was announced across the four empires. Three official royal letters were sent to the imperial families reigning over their respective territory—all but confirmed the Grand Historian’s prophecy looming upon them.
Down in the southern region, upon reading the letter, Emperor Minjeong heaved out a long sigh, his expression equal parts regret and relief. It was regrettable that the prophecy appeared inevitable. At the same time, he felt relieved that there was hope, for his son and for the peace of the four empires.
Holding the letter in his hand, he glanced over at the painting of the late Empress Saehwa hanging on the wall of his study. His eyes lingered with sorrow and longing before returning to the last paragraph. In his letter to the Southern Empire, Emperor Hajeong had specifically noted that there was still seventeen more years until Seungmin was to present, and until then nothing was truly confirmed.
Seventeen more years…
As Emperor Minjeong thought about the years ahead, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for his son—his one and only child. As a father, of course he wanted his son to have a fun and carefree childhood, to grow up with love and care from both parents. But fate was cruel. He wouldn’t be able to provide any of that.
In his position as the emperor, he had to place the nation above all else, even his own child.
It pained him to know that Minho would be deprived of childhood innocence in exchange for years of rigorous training and education. But he had no choice, not with the current state of his health.
Despite being only twenty-four years old, Emperor Minjeong’s appearance could easily be passed for a forty-something-year-old. Be it heartbreak for the fate of his son, his longing for his beloved wife, or the crushing burden of the nation on his shoulders, perhaps a combination of everything, his health had been on the decline since the passing of his mate.
Without knowing what lay ahead, he could only do his best to prepare Minho and hope that his son would one day understand. Hope was all that he had…
A labored cough escaped his lungs and he wondered if he could make it to the next seventeen years. If only he could live long enough to see his son overcome his retribution.
As the doors to his bedroom swung open, Minho stood behind a big display of gifts, saying, “Happy birthday, Han Jisung.”
“Woah.” Jisung’s eyes widened looking at the variety of expensive and rare goods across the wooden table. “All of these? All mine?”
“All yours.”
Hearing this, Jisung ran forward and jumped into Minho’s arms. “I feel so loved! Thank you, Your Majesty!”
To further express his gratitude, Jisung littered Minho’s face with kisses while the latter walked them over to sit on a chair.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!” Jisung said between kisses.
Once every inch of skin on Minho’s face was marked with his lips, Jisung stopped and began to rant about his day.
“Your Majesty, do you know what I had to deal with today? My father keeps pushing me to marry some scary general in the Western Empire. It hasn’t even been a full day since I turned eighteen, barely an adult by law, and he’s already trying to sell me off to a far away land. Don’t you think it’s obscured? Where is his fatherly love? Your Majesty, you have to interfere. You have to help me. You must send a decree to my father and stop this whole thing,” Jisung sputtered, pouting his lips and puffing his cheeks as he voiced his grievance.
“You know I can’t just use my authority on civil matters unrelated to the government.”
Hearing this, Jisung immediately jumped off Minho’s lap. “So you’re willing to send me away to marry that scary general? You don’t want me anymore?” he asked, looking incredulously at Minho; his big, round eyes shimmering with the threat of tears.
“No, of course not. Jisung… I just…” Minho trailed off.
At the sight of Minho’s exhausted and perturbed countenance, the unshed tears in Jisung’s eyes dried up at once. He quickly gathered himself and returned to Minho's lap. Hugging Minho’s neck, Jisung asked, “You seem distracted. Is something wrong? You don’t look happy.”
“How can I be?”
Jisung stayed quiet, urging Minho to continue.
“It will be his seventeenth birthday eight days from now,” Minho continued, finally revealing the reason behind his weary eyes.
“Are you worried that he’ll present as an omega?”
“I don’t know…”
All the candles inside the lamps across the room flickered in tune with the wave of Minho's complicated emotions.
Truthfully, Minho didn’t know how to feel about the fate bestowed upon him and his so-called destined mate from the Northern Empire.
Minho first learned about the prophecy when he was five years old, and every day since he’d lived his life bound by this wretched curse. He wasn’t allowed to cry about it—about anything really. Time and again, he was told that he needed to suppress his emotions for fear that he would lose control of the fiery energy within and succumb to madness. All his life, everyone tiptoed around him, fearful that he would snap and lose his temper. No one wanted to be near him. There was not one person whom he could talk to and express his wish to take a break from his rigorous schedule. The only people who would talk to him were his father and his teachers. But the topics of their conversations were never fun. They were always about the prophecy, his responsibilities, his education, his training, and the annoying person named Kim Seungmin. He didn’t have any friends.
When children his age started their day with breakfast and play time, Minho spent his mornings in his meditation room; the same room where he would end his night with another round of meditation before bed. In between his mandated mediation sessions, his daily schedules alternated between his study where he learned politics and the training ground where he honed his martial arts and sword skills.
The little time he had to bond with his father would always include the dreadful reminder about his duties to the people, to the four empires, and to his future mate. There was no time for child play. He was tired of it all. But his father never relented; not even when Minho cried and begged for time off. He was never given any break, not by fate, not by his father, not by anyone.
As luck would have it, Emperor Minjeong died the year Minho turned eighteen, having succumbed to the years of accumulated exhaustion he endured after his son was born.
And despite his hatred for and complaints about the strict regimen his father designed for him, Minho continued to stay disciplined with his daily routine. He couldn’t find it in his heart to betray the effort and sacrifice his parents persisted through because of him. Although, he did make adjustments here and there to better fit his schedule now that he had a whole country to govern.
“Your Majesty,” Jisung called softly, taking Minho out of the trance of his own thoughts.
Hearing Jisung’s voice, Minho quickly shook the memories off his mind and returned his attention to his lover.
“Jisung-ah, what if he presents as an alpha instead? What would that mean for me? Would that mean the prophecy is false and I’m free of this misery? Would people still deem me a living curse—a walking calamity?”
“Do you wish for him to be an alpha?”
“Of course! I want to be free from the prison this prophecy has trapped me in.” Minho took Jisung’s face in his hands and continued, “I wish to spend my life in blissful happiness with you.”
These words warmed Jisung’s heart. “I would want nothing more,” he said blithely before resting his head on Minho’s shoulder.
On a second thought, Jisung changed his mind and jolted back up. “Actually! I take that back. There’s something else I want.”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t care for all these presents. I want your knot as my birthday present instead.”
Minho smirked before lifting him up and carried him to the bed.
Seungmin spent an entire week leading up to his seventeenth birthday inside the Imperial Ancestral Hall. Everyday, he would kneel in front of his ancestor’s altars, praying that he would present as an alpha. He sincerely wished to be free from the prophecy, and to have the freedom to live his life chasing after his dreams. He hoped to follow in his father’s footsteps and assist his sister in governing the Northern Empire with wisdom and fairness. Everyday, he vowed to the heavens above that he would become a vegetarian and live a virtuous life should they grant him his wish of presenting as an alpha.
And everyday, his parents and sister stood outside the entrance of the hall, watching over him with heavy hearts as he prayed and bargained.
“Dear heaven, dear gods, dear imperial ancestors. Please let me present as an alpha.” This was the phrase Seungmin had been chanting for the past seven days. He knelt for hours on end inside the ancestral hall, refusing to show a sliver of insincerity. By the eve of his birthday, his kneecaps had all but given out and he was carried back to his bed to rest.
Rest never came.
Seungming spent the sleepless night tossing and turning in his bed, anxiously waiting for the morning sun. His knees were in pain, but it was nothing in comparison to the anxiousness in his heart. And although he couldn’t kneel, he could still pray. So he lay starfished on the bed and continued to chant his prayers, hoping that his unwavering sincerity will reach the gods above.
“Dear heaven, dear gods, dear imperial ancestors. Please let me present as an alpha.” The phrase echoed in his room as Seungmin repeated the chant throughout the night.
Soon enough, he would find out his fate.
Morning came and brought with it the corroboration of the impending prophecy. Against his wishes, Seungmin felt a stream of slick soaking up his pants and the bed area beneath his buttocks.
There he lay, despondent and lifeless on the slick-soaked bed as tears ran down the sides of his face.
Inside the emperor's study, Chan stood with his hands folded behind his back, watching patiently as Minho read and reread the royal letter from the Northern Empire.
After an interval, Minho dropped the letter on the desk and sank back against the wooden chair, sighing in disbelief. Minho felt a headache coming on as the word “omega” flashed repeatedly before his eyes. Rubbing his temple with one hand, Minho pointed indolently at the letter with the other hand. “Read it for yourself.”
The distress look on Minho’s face told Chan everything he needed to know. Still, a subject couldn’t disobey the words of the emperor. As such, Chan stepped forward and took the letter into his hands, reading the content to himself.
“Chan, you’re the Chief Councilor, tell me that this is not true,” Minho pleaded.
“Your Majesty, as your Chief Councilor and as your friend, I am confirming that it is in fact very true.”
“Do I really have to marry this Kim Seungmin?”
“You were born to do so.”
“Is there really no escaping this?”
“I fear not."
Seeing Minho’s expression darkened, Chan tried to provide words of comfort. “The good news is Prince Seungmin is only seventeen. Emperor Hajeong has proposed in the letter to have the wedding take place in the winter following his eighteenth birthday. So you have one year to prepare yourself.”
“That’s the good news?”
Chan pressed his lips together and smiled, nodding his head as he did.
“Wha-what about Jisung?”
“What about him?”
“I love him! How can I marry and mate with another man? Jisung will be heartbroken.”
“Your Majesty, you knew this day would come. Myself and the imperial council warned you countless times to focus on your duties and not lose yourself in temporary lust,” Chan said. The tone of his voice was so matter-of-fact it carried no sympathy for Minho.
“It’s not lust. I love him.”
“What do you love about him?”
“Jisung is always happy and positive. When the world sees me as a calamity, he sees me as a person. He doesn’t tiptoe around me like others. He makes me feel good… about myself, about everything.”
Chan felt his scalp prickling as he listened to these words. He had clearly asked about Jisung, yet Minho’s answer was about himself. Chan closed his eyes and drew in a long breath. Then he opened his eyes again to look at Minho. “You’re not a calamity. People are just scared because they haven’t seen anything like this before,” he reassured. “Plus, the late emperor loved you.”
“I hardly felt it. The time I spent with him was almost always packed with lessons and reminders—‘You need to learn this, you need to do that’ were all I can remember him saying,” Minho said, recounting his childhood memories with his father.
“What about me? I love you. You’re my dearest friend.”
“You don’t count,” Minho said dismissively, shaking a hand.
Chan grimaced looking at the ungrateful person before him.
Paying Chan no heed, Minho bargained, “Can I take Jisung as my concubine?”
“Your Majesty,” Chan started, expression laden with disapproval. “Such action is frowned upon.”
“And? They all think I’m a living curse—a walking calamity. What’s adding one more to the list?”
“With all due respect, Your Majesty. This marriage serves to maintain balance and peace among the four empires. Taking a second spouse will be an insult to the Northern Empire. I fear no peace will result from such action.”
“This is really unfair, Chan.” Minho sighed with grievance. “How do we even know if our marriage will guarantee peace and balance? God! Even the phrase ‘peace and balance’ is annoying me.” He exhaled with frustration. “Did the prophecy even say what we needed to do?”
To that, Chan simply shook his head.