The Vessel Was Never Empty
And if I used my divine power that way... couldn't I peel off just as much of my overpowered, overabundant divine power as I could handle, and use only that?
And couldn't I make the burden of that spent power fall not on my Heaven-side body, hanging on to life by a thread, but on this healthy body of "the shaman Seruhwa" instead?
If I could take only as much divine power as I could bear, use it without straining my true body at all...
This was an incredible idea!
Not only would I be able to use the Cheonmyeongan I'd promised my parents I wouldn't touch, I'd gain control over divine power so dangerous I'd never even been allowed to wield it properly.
As long as I can use divine power, I won't have to groan and struggle relying on tools like when I opened the gates of the Netherworld, and even without Ansi, I could protect this body of mine on my own.
It meant that through an indirect route, I too could use the power of a god as ordinarily as any other deity did.
Just imagining it made my heart soar. There were questions, of course—whether it would truly work, whether it might shave away what little remained of my lifespan—but still.
There's possibility, that's what matters. The arts of a shaman are called mulsok, aren't they? I'm learning mulsok right this instant!
If I studied shamanic craft and experimented with everything it had to offer, I could work miracles with divine power just like any ordinary, proper god...
While I was busy indulging in that happy fantasy, the atmosphere between the Crown Prince and Princess Onseol had been growing darker by the moment.
"There is no way to escape spirit possession without becoming a shaman, then?"
"I'm afraid not, Your Highness. Even at Hoguksa, where those who suffered most desperately gathered, they could not find a way to avoid it."
"...I will never allow Bin-gung to take religious vows."
"You are aware, are you not? If the Crown Princess becomes a shaman, petitions demanding her immediate deposition will flood in. Would it not be better to enter the order beforehand, rather than await that?"
"Bin-gung is a benefactor of the royal house. She saved me. She woke my mother. She healed my father. Who would dare submit a petition to depose a woman like that?"
"They will, without question. The royal clansmen will be in an uproar."
"I will not tolerate it. Not ever."
What—why was this suddenly so serious? Why was the little Crown Prince so grimly resolved?
Becoming a shaman means being cast out of the Crown Princess's seat? Why is a shaman treated like that, of all things? This time, for sure, I'm getting to the bottom of it.
I carefully inserted myself into the conversation.
"Um, Princess Onseol, ma'am?"
"Speak."
"Is becoming a shaman really such a terrible thing? Shamans are Gwoeryeoknansin, aren't they? I heard Gwoeryeoknansin are all considered precious talent..."
"...It seems Your Highness the Crown Princess does not yet know."
Princess Onseol continued with a bitter expression.
"In truth, shamans are well-treated talent. The gukmu selected by the court receive treatment equivalent to a second-rank official, and Seongsucheong, the office that governs them, wields considerable influence."
"Then isn't that even stranger?"
I had read about Seongsucheong and the gukmu while learning Unguk's systems. There had been explanations that the Royal Observatory worked in close cooperation with Seongsucheong, and the state records listed the regular gut rituals the kingdom officially sponsored.
Even if shamans ranked a bit lower among the Gwoeryeoknansin, Gwoeryeoknansin themselves were gifted, precious people, so shamans were still treated far better than ordinary humans.
What kind of custom is this bizarre and contradictory?
When I looked at her with a baffled expression, Princess Onseol let out a long sigh.
"The treatment of shamans is not the issue. The issue is that a shaman must not hold any status other than 'shaman.'"
"Another status, meaning..."
"A princess and a shaman. A grand prince and a shaman. An official and a shaman. A general and a shaman... I mean that such combinations are impossible. A shaman may only ever be a shaman, and may hold only whatever rank is available to a shaman, as with the gukmu."
"Why? No other Gwoeryeoknansin has to worry about that. The military officers are required to master martial arts and become warriors, and the physicians of Naeuiwon all have to study medicine, I heard..."
I mean, princess or grand prince isn't even a profession—it's a status you're born into. And I'm supposed to throw that away too, just for becoming a shaman?
Was that why Princess Onseol had become a shaman disguised as a monk—to keep her status as a princess? Because if she became a shaman outright, she'd stop being one?
As I tilted my head, the Crown Prince interjected abruptly.
"It is superstition."
Princess Onseol picked up where he left off.
"Calling it mere superstition... there is, in fact, a certain logic to it, which is why the belief runs so deep."
"What superstition?"
"The superstition that when a shaman appears in a family, that family is ruined."
"...I'm sorry, what?"
"A shaman is one chosen by a god to serve that god, is she not? They say that if a shaman—who ought to devote herself to her god alone—possesses family or any other worldly status, the god grows wrathful and scatters the household to the winds."
There's a petty god like that? Not that every god has a pleasant temperament, but something about that rings false.
If a god harmed innocent humans around a shaman over such a petty grievance, no god could afford the karmic debt—no matter who they were.
"The god possessing a shaman destroys what surrounds her?"
"Yes. That is why they say shamans must sever all worldly ties. They may hold no status besides that of shaman."
"It is all superstition."
The Crown Prince cut in again. Though his fist was clenched tight beneath the tea table, the boy spoke in a calm voice.
"If one becomes a shaman, one is deposed—but if one takes vows and becomes a monk, one's status is preserved. Isn't that so? Whether one becomes a monk of Hoguksa or a shaman, receiving spirit possession is exactly the same. And generations of such cases have caused no trouble whatsoever."
"People believe that by becoming monks, they are protected by the Lotus Buddha, and that his power shields them from the wrath of the body's guardian deity."
"And you do not believe that story, Aunt?"
"It feels rather awkward to say such things as a monk myself... but most of the monks of Hoguksa, it turns out, have never once felt the dharma power. The Lotus Buddha is generous and embraces counterfeit monks like us, yet unlike with true monks, he does not bestow any dharma power upon us."
Well, of course not.
A monk of the Lotus Teachings is one who polishes the Buddha's heart like the Lotus Buddha himself did, striving toward nirvana.
It's something like cultivating the Dao, I suppose.
They do use "dharma power," that peculiar force akin to what Gwoeryeoknansin wield, but strictly speaking, dharma power is merely a byproduct accumulated in the course of refining one's devotion.
Naturally, those without genuine devotion could never wield it.
Which meant the notion that a shaman could be shielded from her guardian god's wrath by the Lotus Buddha's power was utter nonsense.
"If a family suffers no particular misfortune despite receiving no dharma protection, doesn't that mean, in the end, that receiving spirit possession does not necessarily bring harm to those around you?"
"But such cases did occur, and that is precisely why the belief that shamans ruin their families became so deeply rooted."
Listening further to Princess Onseol, it did seem that there had been a surprising number of instances—family members injured right after a spirit descended, a house burning down, a shaman bedridden until she abandoned every other occupation.
And as I listened to those cases, I realized something.
They're impostors! The shamans were scammed!
A true god, if only out of fear of the workings of heaven and earth and the weight of karma, could never harm humans over such trivial reasons.
Gods are mostly too busy governing their own domains to begin with—they leave even offerings and prayers to the Heumhyanggwan. For one to go poking around a mortal shaman's surroundings, not even the shaman herself but the people around her, stirring up disaster? It makes no sense.
Granted, exceptions were not impossible. But the point was that most gods simply weren't idle enough for such nonsense.
With the wicked, however—with stray gods barred from the celestial realm, or wandering ghosts haunting the lower world—it was another story entirely.
If a stray god pretended to be a god of Heaven, descended into a shaman's body, and did as it pleased—that would make sense.
There was nothing strange about a shaman being deceived by such a thing. Did I even need to look far for an example?
During the Cloud Dragon Festival, Gwangcheol-i had impersonated the Cloud Dragon Great God, and hadn't everyone been ready to swallow it whole?
Humans don't really grasp how immense a true god is, so they quite often mistake a powerful stray god for a great one.
Wandering ghosts were spirits who never went to the Netherworld, drifting through the world instead, harming humans or devouring them to grow their strength.
Stray gods were those among the ghosts who had festered for ages and grown exceptionally powerful.
Some of them are comparatively tame, sure, but most are wicked through and through. Those are the things that trick a mortal shaman and settle into her.
A stray god willing to live in peaceful mutual benefit with a shaman wouldn't bother impersonating a god in the first place.
Things like that would absolutely unleash havoc around a shaman, wanting the fine vessel she offered all to themselves.
Because of a handful of those creatures, every mortal shaman and every innocent guardian god is laboring under this slander. It's rather sad, really.
At any rate, if that was the truth of it, then there was a way for me to learn shamanic craft without any fear of being deposed.
"Princess, so one only becomes a shaman when a spirit descends upon you, correct?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll simply never receive a spirit, and stay on as Crown Princess. I don't want to take vows either."
"I beg your pardon? Your Highness, spirit possession is not something you can simply decline because you do not wish it."
"If spirit sickness never breaks out, I don't have to receive one, do I?"
"...Your Highness, spirit sickness is inevitable. A vessel cannot stand empty forever."
Princess Onseol declared it flatly, gazing at me with pity.
But my spirit sickness was genuinely never going to break out.
I'm not an empty vessel—I'm a vessel already filled with a truly enormous god called Princess Cheonmyeong.
The god in the vessel is me, and the vessel is me too, so at a glance it only looks empty.
Not that I can honestly come out and say, "I'm actually a goddess possessing Seruhwa's body."
Which meant there was nothing for it but to deploy the all-purpose excuse.
I lifted my silver hair, neatly braided and draped over my shoulder.
"As you can see, I am a descendant of the Snow Tribe. So the spirit sickness will never come."
"...!"