The Unquenchable Flame
Ha Ji-hyun checked the photos she'd taken and smiled, satisfied.
"That's right. We won't post them all — I'll gather them up and put them up once a week."
"All of those? You just took at least ten shots."
"Of course I'll only select the prettiest, cutest ones to post! Though that's actually the hardest part, because there isn't a single photo that isn't."
Ha Ji-hyun looked utterly shameless, saying such things right in front of the person in question. The making-of PD, who had shown up first thing in the morning determined to film me, barely held back a laugh.
Embarrassed, I waved them off and turned my attention to the homework I'd brought along.
With an audience watching, I worked through the problems at an unhurried pace — but today, visitors kept coming.
"Su-a, how's your condition today?"
"Su-a, could you come try on the costume later? If you'd rather rest, we unnies will come to you."
"Jo Yong-jin's fan club sent a coffee truck today — did you get your snacks, Su-a? Oh, if not yet, I'll bring them right over!"
"Su-a. Have you eaten?"
The assistant director, the stylist, the on-set manager, even the director himself... they came by to check on me at a rate of nearly one person an hour.
"I ate my fill."
"How many bowls?"
"One bowl!"
"That's enough? You need to grow. That stomach of yours is too small."
"I'll grow as tall as you, Director, so it's all right."
Hong Il-beom, who stood a shade under six feet, snorted a laugh. Think I'm joking? Just wait and see...
"And your condition?"
"I already told the assistant director I was perfectly fine."
"That was hours ago. It could have changed by now."
"I'm perfectly fine now, too!"
"Is that so? Then..."
Hong Il-beom started to say something, then stopped. I'd lost count of how many times he'd done that.
Lately he'd been watching me with that observing look of his again. He had always been a man of few words, but he said what needed saying — which made whatever he was holding back all the more terrifying.
"Never mind. I'll call you shortly."
Hong Il-beom walked off, and the making-of PD, pretending not to know, asked a question for the camera.
"A lot of people looking for you today. Something going on?"
"The scene we're shooting soon is a bit dangerous. And it's a night shoot, so I think everyone's a little worried."
"Ah, I see. But you don't seem nervous at all, Su-a."
"No. There's a fire truck on site, and the director promised we'd shoot it safely. So I'm not really nervous."
I turned toward the camera and gave a little giggle, and the making-of PD looked pleased.
The sun was beginning to set. I headed to set a little early for rehearsal. The area in front of the Dangsan Tree had been cleared for a large-scale shoot, and an offering table had been laid out, much like the one used for the shamanic gut rite.
"Su-a. Stand there."
Hong Il-beom pointed to a small platform behind the offering table. A thick cushion sat on top of it.
I sat down and looked around. Every staff member, actor, and associated person was looking up at me. It was a rather amusing sight.
"All right, fire's going in! Everyone watch closely!"
The special effects team shouted. On cue, a wave of heat bloomed at my back.
"Su-a! If it's too much, say so!"
Hong Il-beom called out. I waved to show I was fine, then stood to run through my blocking. Behind me, a staff member was waving a torch.
Today was the day we filmed the scene where Cheon-yeong broke free.
Those who had gathered to usurp the throne stood in formation before the Dangsan Tree. The villagers, ignorant of their true purpose, had shut themselves inside their homes, praying and praying to the spirit of the Dangsan Tree that those spears and swords would not be turned upon them.
A man in full armor stepped before the soldiers, his eyes gleaming with feverish exhilaration.
The soldiers roared at the declaration of General Hong, the man who led them. Off to one side, Hui-yeong watched with satisfaction, while Baek-yeong's face was faintly uneasy.
"Master, do you truly believe this is possible?"
"With that force? Not a chance."
"What? Then why did you agree to grant them a blessing...?"
Hui-yeong shot Baek-yeong a sidelong glance, then covered her mouth with her fan and whispered.
"To sow chaos, of course. It will take them days to march from here to Hanyang, and the local magistracies along their route will not sit idle. If a full-scale battle breaks out in any form, we go to the ravaged regions and bestow grace in the spirit's name. Is there any easier flock to convert than the wounded and the starving?"
Baek-yeong let out a quiet sound of admiration. Hui-yeong had never intended to join the rebellion at all.
Unaware of this, the rebel host — utterly convinced that a divine being stood on their side — were certain of victory.
Hui-yeong gave Cheon-yeong, who stood beside her, a shove in the back.
"Go. Go and bless them."
The sacred rope bound to her shackles had been undone, but Cheon-yeong still walked with difficulty. When Ji-suk moved to support her, Hui-yeong shoved her aside with a sharp glare.
"What business has a mere Il-yeong in a sacred field of blessing?"
Careful not to provoke Hui-yeong, Cheon-yeong deliberately did not look toward Ji-suk as she made her way, step by cautious step, toward the Dangsan Tree.
The moment she appeared, the nearest Il-yeong cried out.
The Il-yeong lining the path to the Dangsan Tree raised their voices one after another. Soon every soldier knew of Cheon-yeong's arrival.
Cheon-yeong stepped up onto the platform prepared before the Dangsan Tree. General Hong assumed a posture of reverence, his face overcome with emotion.
"Divine Maiden! Bestow upon us the spirit's sacred blessing!"
"Bestow it upon us!"
Cheon-yeong looked down at the countless soldiers kneeling before her. The reason she felt not the slightest stirring at the sight was, no doubt, because she knew it was all a lie.
She knelt on the prepared cushion and began to write a talisman. Before dipping the fine brush into the red pigment, she tilted a vial hidden in her long sleeve and let a viscous liquid drip into the paint. Then, as if nothing had happened, she stirred the pigment with the brush and slowly wrote out the charm.
She packed the talisman more densely than usual, but given the special occasion, no one found it suspicious.
Cheon-yeong handed the completed talisman to General Hong. He approached with his body bowed, received it, and retreated backward.
General Hong immediately brought a torch and lit it. Then he blew with all his might.
But the flame would not go out, and the talisman burned all the faster. Panicking, he blew again and again.
"W-what's happening?!"
The fire was not particularly large, yet no amount of blowing would snuff it out. General Hong's face went ashen.
The more the talisman burned, the less blessing he would receive. In his haste, he flung it to the ground and stamped on it.
"Just— go— out already!"
But the fire, seeming on the verge of dying, refused to die — and instead leaped onto General Hong's legs.
Even his nearby aides rushed in, throwing dirt and making a frantic mess of it, but the flames only grew, as if they meant to swallow him whole. The thick armor kept him from being burned directly, for now — but if this continued, he would be burned alive.
"D-Divine Maiden! What is the meaning of this?!"
At General Hong's howl, Cheon-yeong, who had been watching in silence, rose from her seat. That small movement made the aides — who had been on the verge of rushing the child — freeze in place.
At an unhurried pace, Cheon-yeong picked up the bowl of purification water from the offering table and splashed it over General Hong. Once again, no one saw the clear liquid that had flowed from the vial hidden in her sleeve mix into the water.
"Ah— cold!"
Though the amount of water was not large, the fire that had nearly burned General Hong to death vanished in an instant. The moment it went out, he searched for the talisman — but it had already been reduced to ash.
"Divine Maiden? What... what has happened here...?"
The blessing talisman had burned to nothing in a fire that would not die, and he himself had nearly perished. Of all days, for this to happen on the eve of their march. General Hong called to Cheon-yeong as a drowning man clutches at a straw.
But Cheon-yeong turned her back on him and walked slowly toward the Dangsan Tree. Her small body swayed and jerked with each unsteady step, as if she might collapse at any moment.
"What on earth is she—"
Hui-yeong moved to intervene in the unexpected turn of events, but Ji-suk caught hold of her.
"What did you say?"
In the brief moment Hui-yeong hesitated, too startled to decide, Cheon-yeong had already mounted the platform again and turned around.
Her face was vacant, her eyes closed. She bounced in place, her body convulsing in intermittent spasms — the very image of a shaman in the throes of a spirit descent.