[Side Story] Taoist Seo Chan-hui (2)
It must have been about a year after I fell into Gaon.
"……."
For some reason, Master had told me to go train alone at the waterfall beyond the forest that day.
Grumbling at the sudden order, I still obediently finished my waterfall training and stepped out—
—sshhk.
—only to come face to face with two enormous snakes, each as large as my own body, flicking their tongues as they watched me from beyond the falls.
"…I've been had by that old man again."
If the past year had taught me anything, it was this: Master loved a good surprise. More precisely, he took enormous pleasure in watching people panic.
So this, too, was surely—
So you're the child who came from our homeland.
Tsk. Did this body really have to come all the way out here just to look at a single human?
…Or not?
Listening to the two voices that buzzed inside my skull as if speaking directly into my mind, I quietly studied the pair of snakes before me—one white, one black.
Our thousand years of training are nearly at an end. A diversion like this isn't so bad, is it?
…Well. That isn't a terrible idea.
Trading opinions like that, the two snakes drew slowly closer.
Forgive us for startling you.
The white snake, speaking in a gentle voice meant to soothe, introduced itself.
We are beings who train to become dragons, child. Do you know what an Imugi is?
"An Imugi… the kind that trains for a thousand years by the water and becomes a dragon, right?"
You know well.
Having a creature I'd thought belonged only to legend appear before me was startling enough—but more than that, I wanted to know why they had chosen to appear in front of me.
"But… why me?"
I swallowed hard and looked up at the two Imugi.
Because we caught the scent of our longed-for homeland on you.
…Honestly. Still talking in circles, as always.
They had wanted to meet me for some time, it seemed, but feared that revealing themselves before others might terrify people.
What he means is we have a request. We want to hear stories of home.
Even the black Imugi, for all its gruffness, was clearly curious. Its yellow eyes trembled faintly with something like homesickness.
Calling it repayment feels off, but if you tell us your stories, we'll help with your training.
The way it tossed that in as if it were nothing was so funny that—
"Haha!"
—I burst out laughing, completely forgetting the situation I was in.
That was how I first met the two Imugi.
Miri, the white Imugi, whose voice was cool yet soft—a woman's voice. Bari, the black Imugi, whose voice was rough yet warm—a man's.
They were the first friends I made after coming to this world.
Before I knew it, two years had passed since I met the two Imugi.
"Miri! Bari! I'm here!"
Short if you called it short, long if you called it long—but for me, those years were more precious than anything.
We've been waiting for you, Chan-hui.
Human growth never ceases to amaze, no matter how many times I see it.
By then I was a proper Taoist in my own right… no. The truth was, I had improved so dramatically that I was competing with Cheonyu for the position of next Taoist Master.
"Haha. That's all thanks to you two."
I wasn't saying it to spare their pride. It was the truth. I couldn't dismiss the talent for the Taoist arts I apparently possessed—but without Miri and Bari's teaching, I never would have grown this fast.
"Anyway, I was a bit late because Cheonyu's been tailing me lately. Well, I suppose she has every reason to be jealous."
Watching that usually stone-faced Cheonyu puff out her cheeks and trail after me, demanding to know the secret of my rapid growth, had been almost painfully awkward.
Chan-hui. That isn't jealousy—
Miri. How many times must I tell you that some things the parties involved have to figure out for themselves?
Bari flicked Miri's head with his tail as she twisted her body, looking frustrated, as if she had something she desperately wanted to say.
"Anyway—it's almost time, isn't it?"
Ah. Yes.
…….
Before long, both Miri and Bari would complete their thousand years of training and become dragons.
"I'll miss you. No—I'm certain I will."
Once they became dragons, they would leave for the Celestial Realm. And once that happened, we would almost certainly never meet again.
I will miss you as well. But that is our dearest wish.
Miri answered with the same quiet regret, while Bari—still clearly uncomfortable with this kind of atmosphere—changed the subject.
…More than that, what worries me are the beasts of the forest that will run wild once we're gone.
It was a real concern. Until now, Miri and Bari had effectively been treated as the forest's apex predators.
"Don't worry too much. It was always going to be our problem to handle eventually."
I remembered the recent state council meeting—how they had said the forest's Imugi were nearing the end of their thousand-year training, and that final checks were underway on everything that had been prepared in advance.
You say "our" so naturally now.
Miri spoke with a faintly bitter edge to her voice.
Don't forget. If you truly wish to return home, there will come a day when you must leave them behind.
It was advice from a friend—and counsel from a sage who had lived a thousand years.
"…I'll keep that in mind."
And so, promising a next meeting that would likely be our last, I parted from my two friends.
"Master."
"Ah, you're here. Sit for a moment."
I had gone to find Master to tell him I was withdrawing from contention for Taoist Master—
"About the next Taoist Master…"
"I was just about to speak with you on that very matter."
"Pardon?"
Before I could even finish, Master held out his black robe—folded neatly after he had taken it off—and offered it to me.
"I have already obtained His Majesty's permission. Truthfully, Cheonyu is the more suitable choice—but that child will go further still, if only she is given the right catalyst."
So he asked me to be that catalyst. As I hesitated, he pressed the robe that symbolized the Taoist Master upon me once more.
"I know you've been meeting someone in secret. I also know you'll be leaving before long."
"Then why…?"
"So that you may gain as much experience as you can before you go. What else would it be?"
When he put it like that, I couldn't refuse.
In the end, I reluctantly put on the robe.
"Heh heh. It suits you rather well."
But Master's praise aside, the reflection that looked back at me from the bronze mirror in the corner of the room—
"…Thank you."
—with shoulders sagging as if under a thousand-pound weight, was a truly wretched sight.
Time rushed on like a flood.
—sshaaaa.
Before I knew it, the day had come when Miri and Bari would complete their thousand years of training and rise into the sky.
"Honestly. Of all days for this kind of rain…"
I grumbled up at a sky that had been pouring a foul, drizzling rain since early morning, stained a dark crimson. Adjusting my bamboo hat before it could slip, I hurried on.
And then—
"I'm not late, am I?"
As if she had finished her preparations and been waiting for me, I found the white Imugi, Miri, floating on the mud-churned surface of the lakeside.
"Where's Bari?"
He snapped that he wanted to be alone on the day he left. I suspect he's simply embarrassed.
It was such a Bari thing to say, right to the end, that I couldn't help a small smile.
"It's a good day, but the weather's being spiteful."
I think it's a perfect day for ascending to the heavens.
A dragon was a being that commanded rain, cloud, and lightning. Wasn't this foul sky itself a sign—telling her to become a dragon and clear it to blue?
"…If that's how you see it, I won't argue."
Heh. Then this is farewell.
Miri curved her eyes softly toward me. I took off my bamboo hat, met her gaze, and decided to see my friend off with a smile of my own.
"Thank you. I learned so much because of you."
We should be the ones thanking you. Thanks to you, we got to hear stories of the homeland we missed so dearly.
And so I raised my hand and waved toward the white dragon rising slowly into the sky amid a halo of light—waving until that beautifully shining white radiance vanished beyond the dark crimson clouds.
Soon those clouds would part, and a blue sky would show through.
Bari clearly didn't want to see me, so after lingering a moment at the place Miri had left, I turned to head back to the Taoist hall—
—when the rain suddenly intensified.
—SSSHAAAAA—!!
And from a sky growing darker still—
—KRROOOM!
—white lightning began to flash, as if someone were flying into a towering rage.
"…Miri?"
The name left my lips unbidden—and in the same instant, a scream thick with anguish tore down from beyond the sky.
Ah—aah—aaaaah—!!
Then, parting the dark crimson clouds, she came back down—utterly transformed from the being who had risen moments before.
There is none—none—none—!!
Clutching a white pearl the color of her own body—what they called a Yeouiju—as if she might crush it at any second, white mane streaming like lightning, the dragon roared.
There is no Celestial Realm in this world—!!
Then what—what was our thousand years for—!!
—KRA-KOOOOM—!
And at the roar of the enraged dragon, lightning began to fall from every direction.
"Miri—!!"
I shouted her name in desperation at the sight of her, seemingly lost to reason—but my voice never reached her.
"No…"
If this continued, the damage would reach everyone in Gaon. I had to keep Miri and Bari from fighting Gaon's people, no matter what.
They had hidden themselves out of nothing but fear of frightening others. I could never allow them to be treated as mere monsters.
"I have to stop her…"
That was what I had to do now—as Gaon's Taoist Master, and as Miri and Bari's friend.