The Birth of a Baby Spirit
The fish we brought back from the creek were quite numerous.
The children eventually got so absorbed in catching them that they brought in a good number too.
The kids in this world are quite the little workers.
We divided the fish into three pots to make stew. One of them must have contained some herb that tasted like chili.
There was no chili powder, yet it still had that sharp, fiery kick.
When I looked delighted, the village woman who had directed the cooking gave me a bright smile.
“I thought you would like it.”
A few of us men, including myself, dug into the spicy stew. It was a familiar taste to me, but it seemed people in this world didn’t eat much spicy food.
Quite a few men who received stew from the same pot as me kept saying it was delicious even as they let out sharp “Kaaah, kaaah” sounds with every bite.
Marguerite must have grown curious at the sight, because she tried a spoonful, only to immediately down an entire bowl of water.
When the children begged for just a taste, one mischievous man quickly ladled a little into their bowls.
“What are you going to do if it gives the children diarrhea!” the village woman shouted, trying to snatch the bowls away, but the children had already fled far off with them.
“That’s spicy, kids. Your stomachs will hurt.”
At my warning, the children lifted Pudding high and told me not to worry.
“We have Pudding!”
“Teacher, Pudding says it’s okay to eat!”
“Pudding told us to!”
What bold-faced lies. Still, with Pudding around, I wasn’t worried. That slime’s stomach medicine was, without exaggeration, the best in the world. It could probably cure you even if you chewed up iron.
Popcorn had been singing but stopped mid-note and flew over to the children, circling them worriedly.
Kkoma Daejang was the first to stick out his tongue. He licked the broth, let out a strange “Gwaaak!” and began rolling across the ground, shouting that fire had ignited in his belly. The other children exchanged glances.
The men burst into loud laughter while Marguerite hurried over to Kkoma Daejang in alarm. The village woman swung a huge iron ladle at the head of the man who had poured the stew.
If that hit, he would die.
In the meantime the children took turns licking the stew as if performing a courage test, then rolled around on the ground. Even Popcorn joined them, apparently thinking it was all a game.
In the dim evening, mugs of beer and grape wine made the rounds. Food and drink always called for Popcorn.
“Spirit King! Spirit King!” The calls rang out from every direction.
Receiving attention after so long, Popcorn grew ecstatic. It flew about, plunging into the dishes with wet plops.
The children seemed to have completely forgotten their earlier suffering. When people happily declared that the food tasted better thanks to the Spirit King, Popcorn grew even more excited.
It usually only cried “Ppi ppi,” but today a melody had joined those sounds. It was rare for Popcorn to sing. Perhaps the first time.
Wait, is this really the first time?
Searching my memory, I couldn’t recall Popcorn ever singing like this before.
It must have been that happy.
When Popcorn sang, the other spirits began to stir and sway. The atmosphere was far more festive than usual.
Pudding sprinkled glowing powder over the rolling children. They recovered in an instant and immediately challenged the spicy stew again. Then they rolled once more. Pudding rolled along with them.
I was laughing at the ridiculous scene when Marguerite murmured beside me.
“I was a little troublemaker like that when I was young too. Mother had quite a difficult time.”
She must have been thinking of her parents. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“It’s hard right now, but once we have a little more breathing room, let’s go greet them. I’d like to meet your parents too.”
“…Thank you.”
Marguerite smiled brightly, yet tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes. Considering the circumstances that had brought her here, her family must be worried sick. I hoped the letter had arrived safely.
…Time to earn money.
I would farm diligently, set traps for rabbits and foxes, prepare the meat, and sell it. At the very least, I needed enough to cover carriage fare and inn costs for a visit to her family home within the year. I tightened the arm around her shoulder with that resolve, and Marguerite leaned her head against me.
Popcorn, which had been darting here and there, suddenly hovered right in front of my nose. It pressed itself against the tip and leaned its head there too.
“How cute.”
When Marguerite gently stroked it with a fingertip, Popcorn let out a delighted “Ppi ppi.”
Yesterday had been wonderful.
Thinking back now, showing off my fish-catching skills was slightly embarrassing. I later realized the villagers had caught far more than I had.
Yes, that was rather shameful.
It wasn’t exactly the behavior of a proper adult woman. Still, the way Jinwoo had watched me with genuine admiration and awe made me happy both then and now.
Marguerite suddenly chuckled and whacked a snail with a flat wooden stick. Oh dear, she must have put too much force into it. Several snails were now completely flattened.
“The wife is quite strong.”
“Looking at her face alone, you’d think she couldn’t even kill an ant, let alone a snail…”
The two women who had recently arrived in the village as brides stared at her with dazed expressions. The woman who acted as the village’s head cook was laughing heartily.
“W-wife, oh my goodness, my stomach! You really are strong. Flattening snails like that… Oh dear… I’m going to laugh myself to death…”
The other women joined in the laughter. Was it truly that funny?
“A knife would probably suit the wife better.”
The village woman handed over a wide blade with a grin. Since you couldn’t strike as hard with a knife as with a stick, this would be more suitable. They had first claimed a knife would be too much for such a delicate-looking wife, yet here they were.
They were currently preparing feed for the ducks. After cracking the snail shells, removing the flesh, and mixing it with finely chopped bark from the trees cut yesterday, the task would be complete.
The work itself wasn’t difficult, but prying each individual snail from its shell made the job laborious. The snails caught yesterday numbered in the thousands. Jinwoo had laughed, saying it looked as if I had brought every snail from the creek, but we could surely gather that many again next time.
Perhaps snails didn’t thrive well in the world he once lived in.
It might have been a world with very few snails indeed. Marguerite tilted her head and tapped another snail with the knife. Ah, this time it worked properly.
She smiled with satisfaction, but feeling eyes upon her, she looked around to find the children gathered nearby. Their eyes widened at the sight of the crushed snails mixed with shell fragments.
“A giant must have stepped on them.”
“Did a giant come?”
“Maybe it was the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk.”
“No, this is Gulliver’s giant.”
At the children’s words the women burst into laughter again. Jack and Gulliver were stories Jinwoo had told the children yesterday. In the world he came from, such strange tales were made into books for children.
This world had no particular stories meant for children. Perhaps that was why the children mixed Jinwoo’s tales with reality, believing such things could appear in real life.
After all, some of the stories he had told involved spirits, so perhaps they truly could.
Marguerite let out a small sigh as she looked at the snail she had crushed. At first she hadn’t realized it, but it seemed her overflowing strength was because of Jinwoo. It had to be.
There’s no way I was always this clumsy.
Even if crushing snail shells was new to her, she was the same girl who had climbed trees to steal bird eggs since childhood. There was no reason she couldn’t handle this.
The bark from the trees dug up yesterday had already been cleanly peeled by the men who had time on their hands. All that remained was to slice it thinly and chop it. Yet the moment Marguerite touched it, the result was a mess. The women’s laughter erupted once more.
…
It seemed she truly wasn’t suited for delicate tasks. Marguerite had no choice but to admit it, albeit belatedly. Who would have thought crushing snail shells and thinly slicing soft bark would be harder than stealing bird eggs?
“It’s all right, wife. Aren’t you a magician? Leave this sort of work to us.”
The village woman’s attempt at comfort brought no comfort at all. A few spirits giggled as they flew over and settled on her head. They let out bright cries as if saying, It’s okay, it’s okay.
Haah. There was nothing to be done. Moping over things she couldn’t do would change nothing.
Marguerite lifted the finished duck feed the women had prepared. The children each carried small baskets woven from tree bark.
“All right, let’s go.”
When Marguerite took the lead, the children followed in a line. At the field where the ducks stayed, she summoned a light rain around herself.
“I-it’s real.”
“She’s a magician.”
The children’s eyes grew huge. The slight bruise to her pride healed completely.
She scattered the feed for the ducks that had gathered at the sight of rain. They ate with great enthusiasm. The children petted the ducks gently as they fed them. Most were docile, but a few seemed to regard the children as easy targets and tried to peck.
When the spirits surrounded the children and threatened the ducks, the birds immediately behaved. Strange. Popcorn usually comes first.
Her way of addressing Popcorn had changed before she knew it. She had once called it Spirit King or Popcorn-nim, but Jinwoo had made a strange face and suggested simply using its name. She wasn’t sure whether it understood, but the little spirit had seemed happier when she called it Popcorn.
In any case, the Popcorn that normally flew to protect the children at once was nowhere to be seen. Finding it odd, Marguerite wandered toward the Sprout and her eyes widened.
Popcorn was there by the Sprout, but…
“Goodness gracious.”
Marguerite spun around and began to run. Jinwoo was cutting trees at the far edge of the fields today. She ran frantically, long strides eating the distance, until she spotted him swinging his axe in the distance.
“Jinwoo! Jinwoo!”
Marguerite came running with her face completely transformed.
“What’s wrong?”
I asked in surprise, but she was so out of breath she couldn’t speak. It didn’t seem to be bad news. Joy radiated across her entire face. Her eyes sparkled like a child who had discovered treasure.
The children must have come with her; they arrived a little after she did. Panting, they thrust their thumbs up.
“The bride is incredibly fast.”
“You’re supposed to call her the wife.”
“Oh, right. The wife.”
To be faster than these children, Marguerite truly didn’t seem like a noble lady. Of course, she was no longer a young lady but my wife now.
Marguerite was so excited she apparently couldn’t even hear the children. Still catching her breath, she seized my hand.
“…Popcorn… a spirit…”
Her breathing had calmed somewhat, yet her eyes sparkled like stars.
“…was born. A spirit was born.”
I didn’t quite understand why the birth of a spirit was such astonishing news. The existence of spirits in this world implied they were born somewhere, didn’t it? Still, since she was overjoyed, I was happy too.
I followed her as she pulled me toward the Sprout. The spirits were busily moving about, mostly Popcorn.
This is definitely worth getting excited about.
In front of Popcorn lay a very small spirit curled into a perfect circle. Its limbs were tucked into the round body, and its wings were the same shape. Its face wasn’t visible either. It seemed it had only just been born and couldn’t move its body yet.
For some reason it resembled a small, beautifully colored rice grain, and it was strangely cute.
They say even piglets are cute when newborn, but spirits are even cuter.
It was adorable even without a visible face; no wonder Marguerite was so thrilled.
Popcorn fidgeted its hands, moving back and forth to wipe the baby spirit’s body and carefully unfold each wing. When it noticed me, Popcorn proudly puffed out its chest.
The one who had been born was the spirit, and it wasn’t as if Popcorn had given birth to it, yet it acted so boastful. In any case, thanks to Popcorn’s diligent care, the newborn spirit’s body was gradually drying.
The baby spirit spreading its wings and slowly stretching its body was undeniably adorable. Looking at it with deep emotion, Marguerite said,
“Spirits are not born anew without a Spirit King.”
Her gaze turned toward Popcorn. So Popcorn was the Spirit King?
I looked at the little creature once, then twice, and let out a soft chuckle. That guy? The Spirit King? The one that had emerged from my—
“It’s true. The birth of a spirit is proof.”
Marguerite spoke as if aggrieved. To her, it seemed Popcorn’s identity as Spirit King was already decided. Her eyes shone with reverence when she looked at it.
It was probably best not to mention the part about it being born from my private parts.
“P… ppi….”
After showing off to me for a moment, Popcorn returned to tending the baby spirit. It worked as diligently as a bee, wiping the newborn clean and fanning it dry with its own wings. The other spirits flew about in happy commotion.
Judging by the spirits’ attitudes, Popcorn was clearly a higher being among them. But Spirit King? Haha. No way. Above all, there was no chance that something born from my body could be the ruler of all spirits in this world.
While I was laughing, the children who had gathered silently around the Sprout let out long sighs.
“We can’t see it.”
“It would be so cool if it really was the Spirit King.”
“We can’t see the baby spirit either.”
“We’re never going to see them.”
As the children hung their heads in dejection, Orange flew in circles above them, crying “Ppiyak, ppiyak.”
Come to think of it, that one was supposed to be a legendary phoenix or something. My wife truly possessed a rich imagination.