Splash!

            As the tumultuous spray settled, the young master was no longer there.

            ‘Young master!’

            She plunged into the river, following the young master who had been swept away instantly. Beneath the sunlit surface, the depths were dark and chilling.

            The young master’s body, falling endlessly into the dark blue river, flickered in her blurred vision. She reached out her hand. Grasping his outstretched hand tightly, she embraced his sinking body with all her might.

            She saw the black tendrils wrapped around his wrists and ankles. They were, as she suspected, goblins that had been watching for their chance since the Lantern Festival.

            Even at a time like this, she couldn’t hide her identity as a shaman. She had to break free. Crunch. She cut off the black tendrils wrapped around his wrist first. Weakened by his feeble owner, the spiritual power was as flimsy as a parched hide, barely managing to sever one tendril before dissipating.

            –Little shaman girl, your blood will overflow into the rivers and be buried at sea. Your bones shall sink below, your bloated flesh rise above. The remnants of your torn clothes shall return to the bosom of your mother.

            –Offer up the sacrifice. If you pity us, fill our hungry bellies with the unblemished soul.

            A deep resonance rose from the depths, a naive yet cruel howl, emanating from its source an overwhelming stench and hunger.

            Beodeul’s blood ran cold. She heard the ghastly warning directly in front of her. The shadows, circling in a dance, mockingly flickered in the eerie blue water.

            She tightened her grip on the young master’s shoulder. She struggled fiercely. A dark tendril struck her as she desperately tried to surface. Suddenly, a spirit, now taking human form, approached and placed its detestable hand upon her shoulder, as if to say, ‘Do not interfere.’

            Indeed, she wasn’t the target. She had resolved to do everything she could. She could not bear to witness the young master die before her eyes. Was she to endure the sight of his spirit shedding tears day and night, tormented by nightmares, thrice over?

            Suddenly, the water surged. In a place devoid of air, she felt the flow of air, and a sharp wind shredded the spirit’s wrist.”

            Pain. Excruciating pain!

            Beodeul wanted to escape without missing the opportunity, but her body, having been in the water for so long, was feeling heavy and sinking. She could see the water spirits twisting their bodies, approaching her. They come closer, almost touching, then she is dragged down again.

            There is something at the bottom of this river.

            When she thought that, her eyes met with another’s. Through the frothy whirl of water, she saw clear blue eyes that had fought their way through.

            In the midst of her floundering confusion, only she seemed to be struggling; the young master’s gaze was calm and serene. As she involuntarily opened her mouth to call out to him, a gulp of air escaped her.

            ‘I can’t breathe...’

            As consciousness almost slipped away, inevitably, a red thread appeared. It took her a moment to realise that the flimsy thing waving with the current, like water grass, was not a thread but a woman’s hair. A vision of a woman with red eyes, just like hers, mirroring her.

            Yes, appearing only when she was in pain, losing consciousness, as if... as if it wished for her death.

            ‘This body already has an owner, and yet you act as if it’s yours! Keep that up and you’ll lose your own body, swarming with bugs! What a pitiful fate you have, child.’

            “Puh, ha!”

            Just as she was about to lose consciousness, someone roughly grabbed her arm and pulled. She exhaled a deep breath she had been holding. Inhaling as much as her lungs would allow, she fell onto the ground as if she had been thrown there.

            “Young master!”

            The young master seemed to have lost consciousness. She crouched and pressed her ear against the man’s chest. A faint heartbeat signalled his fragile grasp on life, and she was filled with sudden alertness. His pale cheeks drained of colour, but there was no breath escaping them.

            Beodeul tilted the young master’s chin and covered his lips with hers, breathing air into him. She repeated this, awkwardly pressing on his chest. As her trembling hands and feet clung to him, she felt his body twitch. Their lips were still touching.

            “Have you come to?”

            She quickly sat up and supported him as he coughed up violently.

            “I’ve waited a thousand years.”

            Sweat formed on her forehead. Chirping birds and the piercing brightness of clear sunlight. In the midst of this tranquil and gentle scene, the young master expelled water while she, belatedly, shivered throughout her body.