Since it was a holiday, most of the city's people allowed themselves to sleep in, but San had to rise early for the long day ahead of him. Seonghwa came to wake him before dawn when even the birds outside were still too tired to comment on the break of day. San had hoped to wake to their sweet support for his important day, but he made do with a late cricket in the bush outside his window that marvelled at his presence.

San sat and dozed as half a dozen maids, Yeosang, and Seonghwa fluttered around him in their preparations. They brushed his hair and tied it up in a complicated braid that was supported by golden hairpins so heavy San barely felt the weight of his antlers anymore. It surrounded the traditional crown of a ruler that encased part of his mane.

Next were his clothes. He wore the blue and black robes that had been created to match him, topped off with the heavy golden coat of a dragon king that flowed in its extravagance and grace. Its shine on San's body felt equally worthy of his being and foreign to him. The belt tying everything to his waist wrapped snugly around him and was decorated with more gold and precious gems.

While swept away by the celebrative mood and the gushing of the maids with Yeosang about how terrific the festivities would go, San didn't know where his heart lay. He was caught between the worry of failing his duties and his excitement over getting to mature today.

He didn't feel like an adult. San felt as if he hadn't aged a day beyond 321 and he still remembered chasing his sister around the mountains back when they were still juveniles with no country to take care of under their reign.

But now, San was the dragon king. He had to attend to his duties.

"You look stunning. The king will adore this look on you," Yeosang declared in amazement as his fingers smoothed over San's shoulders once he was dressed. When San craned his neck to peer up at Seonghwa, he found the shaman's eyes closed off, but his smile was friendly.

"There is no need to be nervous. We will guide you through all the steps." Seonghwa's voice was smooth like a river as he nodded at Yeosang. Once the head of the building stepped aside, San was allowed to raise. His claws stopped to fidget, and he shook out his shoulders to be ready for this ordeal.

Seonghwa had a small lunch with him, for the real eating would start only after San had blessed the lands and the people could relish in their luxury. San's stomach was in cramps, but he tried to eat as much as he could. Every so often, he reminded his spinning thoughts to keep calm and not get ahead of themselves. His worry was apparent, and Seonghwa hummed at him occasionally to ensure him that even if he messed up, they could continue. There was no standard to uphold.

Seonghwa dropped San off in the throne room before he went to change. When San entered through the mighty doors that were open to let the last streams of warm air flood the buildings, he found Hongjoong pacing left and right. Rather than his usual blue robes, he wore a deep black today. The layers were accentuated by reds and golds and special only to this occasion. The king's partly open hair spilt over his shoulders like a flood of ink and his crown resembled a lower status today than the one San wore.

When Hongjoong's flickering eyes found San as soon as he stepped over the threshold gingerly as not to ruin his looks, a smile that resembled a stressed grimace spread on his lips.

"San," he breathed. For a moment, both of their worries were forgotten momentarily. As the king came over to look at him up close, San tried to appease him with a smile.

Hongjoong nodded to himself as he studied San's getup. Satisfaction smoothed out his brow.

"The deities seem to be invested in the evening. The sun has been shining all morning, and it seems the evening will be warm." A silk ribbon so black San barely saw it in his hair slipped over Hongjoong's shoulder. Golden embroideries of dragons wound themselves up the soft spread.

"They see the maturing of one of their own, after all," San said. He smiled, though he still feared not to be enough and to neglect his task in getting along with the humans.

"So they do."

Progressively, the courtyard outside filled with people. The servants had erected a comfortable seat for the king's mother where she could overlook the procession from an elevated place. Throning, she relished in some rice cakes while she fanned herself with a deep black fan. The norigae dangling from it was knotted complicatedly around a coral ornament in heavy gold.

Hongjoong's advisors and other nobles had assembled, as well. They stood at the sides of the path of lanterns on long sticks that led from the temple to the pavilion. Colourful ribbons floated in the autumn air and were joined by the cascading leaves of the trees that filled the sky. The grey blanket of clouds was interrupted by the sun peering through as if it wanted to join the festivities, and the humans down on earth glowed where they stood in its rays.

Few servants were present since they weren't needed anymore, but the number of people that had gathered still impressed San. Everybody wore their prettiest outfits; the women silk with floral patterns, and the men their hanboks in many festive colours.

As evening neared, Seonghwa joined Hongjoong and San once more. He wore a similar black getup to Hongjoong's, though his was longer and whirled in the wind whenever it picked up. Instead of pearls, he wore a single earring with a golden dragon dangling from it, signalling his role in the occasion. His hands were wrapped in silk bands that exposed his fingers as he lifted Hongjoong's hand and San's claw and led them together.

The king couple left the building first and greeted the sunset. The town was brightly lit but frozen in their anticipation, and their excitement penetrated the castle walls. San spotted a few lights shining on the mountains where curious wanderers sneaked a peek down at the palace.

As soon as Hongjoong's and San's feet hit the earth of the courtyard, the palace musicians began their ghostly concert. Flutes were joined by the tingling tunes of string instruments and the clacking of wooden hourglass drums. Faint songs came from the group of men and women, but they sang no words, much rather filling the air with the welcoming chorus of spiritual reckoning.

All eyes were on them as Hongjoong led San across the yard. San's claws, antlers, and tail were on full display, showing his being to every visitor. Behind them, Seonghwa walked with the book of dragons tucked under his arm and a gigantic brush balanced over his other shoulder.

San gulped and stared straight ahead. The need to cower away numbed his senses to the eyes on him. Hongjoong's hand in his felt foreign, but he couldn't let his eyes search for Wooyoung among the people. While his sight would have calmed San, he didn't want to be distracted.

The songs grew in volume as they reached the temple. The air was pregnant with tension as every step and its symbolism choked the people's need for words. All doors and windows to the shrine were wide open and the audience could watch as San and Hongjoong dropped to their knees side by side.

San's thoughts whirled with sensations and worries, but he shoved them all aside to concentrate on his wishes. He greeted the ancestors of the dragon altar, asked their guidance in his maturing, and thanked them for their work for the past five hundred years.

Seonghwa waited in the corner, his head lowered as well as he bid his wishes. When they rose after their bows, he stepped in again. Next to the temple stood a massive jar of ink, and he dipped his brush inside. Ink dropped on the ground behind him as he walked ahead of them. His pink hair seemed to glimmer in the air, heavy with the presence of excited spirits.

On the lit path down to the pavilion, paper posters dangled from the lantern posts. Seonghwa alternated left and right to write on them with his brush while San and Hongjoong followed slowly. Behind them, the audience came along to pursue their procession to the pond.

Flashes of colours and lights disoriented San. They reflected in his eyes and made them shine like molten gold as he gazed upon the luminous pavilion. The music raised and grew faster, shriller, with every word Seonghwa wrote on the sheets. Prosperity, luck, fortune, fertility, harvest, peace, pleasant weather, all the hopes people put on a single dragon's shoulders.

Never had San felt smaller and more fragile in his human skin. While his dragon was wide awake and crooned at the effort the humans made in his favour, San feared its impatience. It wanted to break out, shifting under his skin as if unable to bear its fleshy prison any longer. His blood thrummed in his veins.

Hongjoong was an anchor by his side, calming him as much as he could. By the time Seonghwa halted and their hands had to part, San's heart thrummed in his chest like the flutter of a bird's wings. It misses a beat only by the distraction of a whirl of black silk in front of him.

Seonghwa's clothes spread behind him as he knelt for the kings. Not on one knee, but on both, as his head lowered demurely. His hands offered his two items: the brush and the book.

Hongjoong took the brush and heaved it over his own shoulder. His hand slid through Seonghwa's hair.

From up close, San recognised the strain in the man's body, his pale features and his trembling hands. Seonghwa wore a mask of indifference, but his body appeared small as he shivered in front of their might.

"Thank you, Seonghwa," Hongjoong said. He waited for San to take the book, and San did. Before he continued his step, however, his claw came to cradle Seonghwa's jaw.

Led by the dragon's hand, Seonghwa looked up. His twinkling eyes were wide in awe and submission as he gazed upon the dragon.

A pleased hum rumbled in San's chest.

He let go of Seonghwa and stepped around him while Hongjoong mirrored his other side. Behind them, Seonghwa stood and followed them to the edge of the bridge before he halted. Around him, the crowd fanned out as they watched the two kings cross. As if Seonghwa's aura held them back, they circled around him, never setting foot on the bridge.

San went ahead without pause. Hongjoong wrote on the hanji covering the ground. The heavy brush swished left and right and he worked his way towards the pavilion with determined hands. From up close, San couldn't read the lettering, but he didn't need to, not yet.

When San arrived at the pavilion, he stood in front of its entrance. The music reached its peak when Hongjoong dropped the brush, ink spraying everywhere, and fell to his knees in front of San. His forehead touched the finished paper as he bowed low.

San gazed at him, then at the crowd. In breathless anticipation, they watched as he opened the book. Behind him, on the entrance, the larger copy of his speech unrolled when he tugged on a thread dangling from the scroll. He rose his voice for everybody to hear and while a human wouldn't have been loud enough, a dragon was. Abruptly, the music fell silent, and the crowd held its breath.

"People of Joseon. After five hundred years of living under a dragon's blessing, you come to the end of a prosperous and harmonious era. Once more, it is time to appeal to another dragon's blessing to live a flourishing life under its grace. I have come here to test your people and to determine whether Joseon once more deserves to be guided by my kin. In return for my services, I shall achieve maturity as a one-thousand-year-old dragon so I may obtain my full power. Whether this power is meant to make you strive or to wreak destruction is mine to decide."

San gazed over the crowd, studied their faces full of apprehension and nervosity. The queen had stopped fanning herself, and deathly silence spread among the rows. Everybody knew of the prior unrest in the palace and they feared San's judgment.

"This decision shall be made in accordance with your king, Kim Hongjoong, of Joseon. As he kneels here, I will bestow him what he deserves."

When San's eyes got stuck on the stables, he believed to find a figure hovering in its entrance.

His gaze dropped when Hongjoong extended his hands. Kneeling, he looked at San, his eyes sharp and attentive as he was ready to receive what San had to give. He shivered under San's power, but his determination never wavered.

San placed the book in Hongjoong's hands and turned his back to him. He passed the paper curtain to the entrance of the pavilion and found himself in the obscure room. A few candles burnt around the meal that had been prepared for him to appeal to his favour before he decided. San breathed deeply. He wouldn't be able to eat while the tension outside suffocated him.

Hongjoong still knelt and he would until San decided upon his fate. While San's dragon crooned at him to let the king suffer, San refused.

When San opened his eyes, the slit pupil of a dragon had taken over his human eyes.

In the next moment, he dropped, his body dissolving into water as he neared the ground. A bunch of clothes and hairpins remained, while San discarded his human appearance.

Hongjoong stared at the water trickling from the entrance to the pavilion. It trailed down the corner of the little island and kissed the earth that promptly flourished with wildflowers despite the time of the year.

Only a single drop containing San's very essence arrived at the corner of the island. All by himself, he took the last step and jumped into the pond, uniting with his element.