Who Took the Sprout?
Up and down, twisting and turning with little grunts of effort.
Popcorn wobbled through the air, shaking left and right, up and down.
Pipipipipi.
It let out a pitiful cry, as if it were dying from exhaustion while I watched.
Well, if it’s that hard, you could just drop the grass.
I was chuckling when several voices rang out.
The grass fragment must have been visible to everyone else too. The sparkling was probably because Popcorn was hugging it so tightly.
The children who had been dozing off jerked awake at the adults’ voices. They rubbed their eyes and looked around, just as Popcorn flew up to me with a strained nging sound.
When it saw me, it suddenly drooped downward as if all its strength had left it. I quickly reached out and caught it. Popcorn panted heavily, still clutching the grass with all its might.
It looked a little fake somehow, like it was deliberately trying to appeal to me about how hard it had worked. It had become far more human-like than when it first hatched. Was this also a form of growth?
But where on earth did it rip up that weed from?
If it wanted grass, there was plenty of it right around here. There had been no need to go far to get it.
“....”
Well, people have their preferences, so maybe spirits have favorite kinds of grass too.
Before I knew it, the children had gathered around me and were staring intently at my palm.
“The grass is moving all by itself!”
“Is this Mister’s spirit?”
“But it looks so weird.”
The kids seemed to think the grass itself was the spirit.
“It’s just because the spirit is holding the grass.”
At my words, the children’s eyes widened into perfect circles. Even the adults watching from a little farther away had round eyes. Someone swallowed hard.
It didn’t seem like a situation that required that much tension, so I didn’t understand why they were reacting this way.
“Is it real?”
“The spirit is really holding grass?”
“Why is it holding grass?”
“If I give it grass, will it hug mine too?”
I had no idea why it was holding the grass either.
While I was talking with the children, Popcorn suddenly perked up. It tried to fly upward while dragging the grass it was holding, but it seemed too heavy and it just couldn’t manage.
It began tearing the grass into small pieces. Its tiny hands worked diligently, ripping away.
What on earth was it doing?
“It looks like an ant eating grass.”
“Does the spirit have no strength? Why can’t it lift the grass?”
“I want to carry it for you.”
The children chattered noisily, saying it was strange.
That was something I was curious about too. When it was urgent, it could fling a wild boar through the air, so why was it struggling so much with a single piece of grass?
After barely tearing off one fragment, Popcorn fluttered up into the air and immediately charged straight toward my mouth.
Why?
The thought lasted only a moment. Popcorn, which had flown to my mouth, shoved the grass inside.
It seemed to be telling me to eat it.
This little rascal!
“Grass isn’t for eating. Spirits and humans are different, so if you eat it you’ll get a stomachache.”
Even though I said that, Popcorn didn’t seem to understand. It tilted its head in confusion, then tried to stuff the grass into my mouth again.
Sigh. I guess I have no choice.
To be honest, I had zero desire to eat random weeds. There might be animal droppings or mouse poop on it, and of course it wouldn’t taste good.
But seeing how Popcorn had gone all the way to who-knows-where to bring it back, I couldn’t ignore its sincerity. I reluctantly opened my mouth.
The moment I put the small grass fragment in my mouth, Popcorn clasped its hands together and stared at me expectantly.
I was planning to spit it out in a second.
Well, I had no choice now.
I swallowed the tiny piece of grass down my throat.
When Popcorn realized I had swallowed it, it raised both arms high and spun around in a joyful dance. It seemed incredibly happy that I had eaten the grass.
Popcorn then tore more grass into small pieces and flew toward the children.
The kids watched with their mouths hanging open in a daze.
Completely ignoring their bewilderment, Popcorn tried to shove a piece of grass into Ji-geu’s mouth.
Startled, Ji-geu quickly covered his mouth with his hand.
“Huk! What is this, Mister? Can I eat it? Do I eat this grass?”
Ji-geu shouted in confusion.
“Since the spirit is giving it to you, just eat it.”
At my words, Ji-geu blinked rapidly.
The people around us shouted urgently.
Startled by the adults’ intensity, Ji-geu opened his mouth. Popcorn struggled mightily to push the tiny grass fragment inside.
Then it clasped its hands and watched with sparkling eyes.
“Ji-geu, the spirit is watching to see if you really eat it.”
You didn’t eat it?
When I said it like that, Ji-geu blinked a few times, then gulped down the grass. When Popcorn raised both hands and spun in circles again, it seemed he had actually swallowed it this time.
After that, Popcorn continued tearing the grass into small pieces and stuffing them one by one into the children’s mouths. Each time, it would check that they had eaten it and spin around happily.
The watching adults asked the children,
“Does anything feel different?”
“Like you feel stronger, or you can see something new.”
“Or maybe something suddenly pops into your head. Anything that feels different from usual is fine.”
The children looked at each other and shook their heads.
“I don’t see anything.”
“It’s just grass.”
“Maybe it’s because the pieces are too small. If we eat bigger ones, maybe we’ll get stronger.”
While the children were chattering, the kid who always fought with Ji-geu suddenly shouted.
“Uwooooooh! Power is surging! An incredible power is surging!”
He started it. As if they couldn’t lose, the other children began noisily shouting that power was rising in them too.
“My eyes have gotten sharper! I can see everything!”
No way.
I had eaten it first and felt absolutely no change.
At first the villagers thought it might be real and kept asking the kids to lift this, lift that, can you see this, what do you see, making a huge fuss. But once they realized the children were just showing off, they quickly lost interest.
The children’s fathers looked especially disappointed. Every single one of them had their shoulders slumped.
I still had no idea why Popcorn had made them eat those grass fragments. There was no change at all.
Was it just playing? Maybe it brought random grass, fed it to people, and got happy about it…
That seemed entirely possible. Popcorn did have a childish, innocent side to it.
After feeding all the children, there was still grass left. Popcorn flew around in the air holding the fragments, looking like it was deep in thought.
“Spirit! Over here!”
“Here!”
The adults all opened their mouths wide.
Even though they knew the grass fragments had no power, it seemed that if the spirit was giving it, anything was welcome. They stood there with their mouths open like baby ducks.
Popcorn seemed startled by their enthusiasm. As if trying to escape them, it zipped around this way and that before falling straight into a wine barrel with a splash.
“Pipipipipi!”
A moment later, Popcorn shot back into the air along with the grass.
For a brief second everything went quiet, then it became noisy again.
The people divided the alcohol according to the number of people. I received one cup too.
“Oh!”
It had become incredibly delicious. It was worlds apart from the beer I had drunk earlier.
Even if the grass Popcorn brought was just ordinary weeds, the spirit itself was truly useful.
“Kah, this tastes great.”
“It goes down so smoothly.”
“I wouldn’t even notice if one person died while we were eating together.”
While everyone was eating and exclaiming in admiration, Popcorn continued flying around busily. It still seemed unable to decide what to do with the remaining grass fragments.
In the end, it must have decided this wasn’t the right place. Still clutching the grass, it wobbled unsteadily and flew off into the dark sky with a crooked, staggering flight.
“Spirit, where are you going?”
“Why are you carrying that grass around?”
“Should I help you?”
The children followed after Popcorn in a line, asking questions.
“Pipipipipi.”
They couldn’t possibly understand each other, yet every time the children spoke, Popcorn answered with its own pipi sounds.
Of course, the children couldn’t hear it at all.
The villagers seemed curious about what would happen to that grass too. They followed behind the children like a string of candies.
I was a little curious myself. What exactly was that grass that Popcorn was treasuring it so much?
Carrying the pitch-black night sky on our backs, the long procession of Popcorn, children, and adults looked like our very own little festival.
“Ah, this is nice. Tonight really is a wonderful night.”
Someone muttered. I thought so too.
Nothing special had happened, yet I felt happy.
Wandering here and there, Popcorn finally arrived at the edge of my land near the forest.
There was a tiny field I had made for Popcorn when I first claimed this land. It was a palm-sized plot enclosed by a fence made of grass stems.
Inside were the things Popcorn had collected: tiny pebbles like grains of sand, parts of insect corpses, and some dust-like fragments from who knows where.
“Pipipipipi.”
Popcorn planted the remaining grass right in the center.
But the grass kept tilting and wouldn’t stand straight.
“Pipi?”
Popcorn tilted its head at the constantly falling grass.
“You have to plant it deep, Spirit!”
“Use your hands like this and pile dirt on it so it stands up.”
When the children gave advice, Popcorn seemed to understand. It gathered dirt with its tiny hands.
It piled up the dust-like soil and finally managed to make the grass stand, though it was crooked.
“Pipi! Pipipipipipi!”
Popcorn stood up straight and puffed out its chest as if showing off.
“Ooh!”
“The grass is standing!”
When the children and villagers clapped, Popcorn puffed its chest out even more.
After that, the festival continued.
The people ate meat and organ stew while Popcorn jumped around on top of the meat. For some reason it even rolled around on it.
Everyone was happy as the night grew deeper.
“Oh my god… The sprout that was here just a moment ago…”
The priest rubbed his eyes with both hands and looked again.
But the sprout that had definitely been there was already gone without a trace.
He had only looked away for a moment to offer a prayer of gratitude to the god.
The priest looked around.
A sprout from the Spirit Tree was so precious that even ten thousand gold coins wouldn’t be enough. Perhaps someone had stolen it.
In fact, there were records of people in the distant past who had tried to steal a sprout from the Spirit Tree and plant it in their own country.
What happened to them afterward wasn’t recorded, but he had never heard any stories of other countries possessing a Spirit Tree. They must have failed.
Yet there was no one around.
“Maybe I was dreaming.”
He muttered that, then hurriedly shook his head.
He wasn’t the only one who had seen the sprout appear. The young priest he had brought with him had seen it too.
The young priest had left to report to the temple, so it couldn’t have been a dream.
The priest stared at the pitch-black sap that had spread across the ground. Right in the center, where the rotten root had been, the sprout had definitely been there.
With a reverent heart, the priest prayed and asked the god for forgiveness. Then he carefully approached the center and bent down.
When he examined the spot where the sprout had been, he could see clear traces of someone ripping it out. A very faint remnant of the sprout remained.
The priest sat down right there and stared at it blankly.
Earlier he had been so confused that he wondered if he might have imagined it, but no one had come near this place. If someone had, he would have noticed even while praying.
“Who… In a place with no one around, who could have torn off the sprout of the Spirit Tree?”
The priest’s body began to tremble violently.
The fact that a sprout had appeared meant the summoning had definitely succeeded.
But the fact that the sprout had been torn away…
Something’s wrong. Something has gone terribly wrong.
Whether the Saintess was the problem, or whether it was wrong for our kingdom to have intercepted the oracle, he didn’t know.
But one thing was certain: they had incurred the wrath of the gods.
What should I do?
Should he remain silent and stay in the temple that had gone against the will of the gods?
Or should he risk his life and give some advice to the king?
Nothing seemed like it would truly follow the will of the gods.
“O God, command this humble servant with what You desire. This lowly body and this life belong to You…”
The priest bowed his head and prayed.
But the voice of the god did not come.
What should he do? What was he supposed to do?
The priest prayed all through the night until the sky turned white, begging to hear the voice of the god, but nothing reached his ears.