Chương 27: S.04 Memory of the Clock 05(06)

Scene 18. FLASHBACK Yu-seok and Hee-jin's deep bow was coming to its close. As Hee-jin and Yu-seok were slowly wrapping up their bow and setting their backs upright, Hee-jin — as if sensing something — glanced briefly behind her. Beyond the paper-paneled door of I-sim's dwelling, set in 주식(Ju-sik_Incantation Guard), the shadow of a single person flickered. I-sim did not look like someone who had finished all her preparations for sleep.

Like someone with much work still left to do, she was smoothing out the neatly donned navy Hanbok jacket. As if already knowing who the presence beyond the door was, I-sim nodded lightly. Hee-jin moved her step toward the firmly closed door. As she drew back the Incantation Guard she had shaped with her own ink and opened the door that had been closed, a familiar presence stood alone beyond the door. The Oldest: Come in.

The shadow shown beyond the door had been one, but the sound of footsteps coming inside was of two. Hearing the two footfalls, Hee-jin carefully closed the door again and scattered ink over it. Once more a still night continued. No sound could leak out, and no sound could flow in. Yu-seok and Hee-jin, having again adjusted their positions and stepped briefly to the side, delivered no word to the presences that had entered. They only bowed deeply at the waist.

After reaching deep into the room, what had been one shadow now drew itself as two shadows. The two presences, having received Hee-jin and Yu-seok's greeting, offered a deep bow without a sound. The two, having offered a single bow, carefully lowered themselves onto the cushions where Hee-jin and Yu-seok had been sitting. Ji-young: You called for us. The Oldest. The clear, ringing voice held not a tremor. Only the deep sinking of one who had resolved everything could be felt, just barely, within the voice.

Yeon-hui: I am sorry for being late. The Oldest. Yeon-hui, who had stepped in shielding Ji-young, offered a light apology following Ji-young's voice. I-sim did not go on with words. Watching the two seated before her in proper form, with the moonlight set beside her, she only offered a smile that carried many meanings. In the deep silence, even the sound of moonlight falling, riding the bitter cold of early winter, seemed that it might be heard.

I-sim, who had been silent for a while, went on with her voice, offering a bright smile. What broke the deep silence was a voice as heavy, as deep, and as warm as the bright sound of her laughter. The Oldest: Next-in-line The Oldest. Ji-young: Yes. The Oldest. The Oldest: Have you, decided. Ji-young was silent. Having come here, she seemed to have already made every decision, but it was an answer she could not bring herself to take out with her mouth. The silence that followed was heavier than any silence.

Because it was heavy, her lips would not easily lift. But The Oldest was waiting. She could not hesitate. Ji-young gave a brief answer. Ji-young: Yes. The Oldest. The Oldest: To Next-in-line Guide and Next-in-line The Oldest, and to the Director of Occult Affairs — that I have come to make a cruel decision, I am sorry. Ji-young: Not at all. Heavy though it was, they remained calm to the end.

Yu-seok, seated to the side after stepping away, watching the calm heaviness of Ji-young and Yeon-hui, felt something beyond awe — something close to dread. Ji-young and Yeon-hui quietly awaited The Oldest's will. The Oldest: Before Next-in-line Guide came to hold the remaining Relic, the Strategist said this. That Next-in-line Guide, before she grew stronger, must have the existence of this lowly old woman hidden from her — so that she alone would fully lose the path.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. At I-sim's composed explanation, Ji-young and Yeon-hui did not answer. Hee-jin and Yu-seok too did not move the heads they had inclined slightly in deference. They paid no mind to anyone's gaze. The Oldest: However, the whispering of the Strategist — no, of Song Hee-jin, who at the time was the Director of the Library — was not complete.

That day we met, in early summer, the eyes of Next-in-line Guide had not only Song Hee-jin hidden from them — they had even my figure, ever so faintly, hidden as well. Of course, my daughter did not look at my path. For this wretched mother, what this wretched mother meant to do — she did not even try to know, to the very end. And yet, this wretched mother was even anxious about that. And so, a while ago, when Next-in-line Guide looked out the path at The Black Doctrine, I did one more wretched thing.

The wretch called "mother," to drive her daughters into defeat, committed a petty cruelty behind their backs. And even so, our daughters ate the meat their mother grilled for them that day, happily. No one wept. They only quietly listened to her voice. The silence that followed was fairly long. Ji-young, gathering her courage, pushed The Oldest's guilt away in Ji-young's own way. Ji-young: It was delicious. The Oldest: Next-in-line The Oldest. Ji-young: Yes.

At The Oldest's voice calling her, Ji-young's answer came heavy and proper. But The Oldest did not easily go on. The deep deliberation had ended long ago, but in the end it was a silence of hesitation over how to convey it. It did not come easily — but it did not take long either. The Oldest: Today, that veil shall be lifted. Ji-young let out a small, soundless sigh. Yeon-hui only listened in silence. Neither of the two was flustered. What was flustered was, rather, Yu-seok.

He sensed intuitively what The Oldest's words meant. The Oldest: That is why I asked to see you. Next-in-line The Oldest. Ji-young: I, Ji-young's voice did not waver at all. The face of Ji-young — lifted slowly — was revealed composedly in the moonlight settling along the keen wind. Behind her, the figure of a child who had cried her fill and come remained. Ji-young was no longer crying. Ji-young: After I have sent you off, and without even knowing that I have sent you off, I shall belatedly come to realize it.

Even then, I, shall not cry. I, merely — that in this way, properly, I could see the face of my mother who took me into her bosom and raised me — I shall only count it as fortunate. This place, to me, is the land that made me lose the mother who gave me birth, and is the land that gave me the mother who took me into her bosom. And it is the land where I can see the last of that mother. She swallowed her dry throat. The surging emotion she pressed down, pressed down again.

Ji-young's voice, which had not wavered at the start, went on to the very end without wavering. Ji-young: Whatever it may be, whatever path it may be, I shall live on, and walk. Standing at the front of all who stand with me, I shall protect all. All who stood with The Oldest, I shall protect with my life. All the lives and promises and times, the disgrace, the misunderstandings that The Oldest, that my mother protected — all of them, I shall inherit. Ji-young's head and waist bent deeply toward the floor.

After hearing Ji-young's firm resolve, The Oldest nodded. It was not heavy. It was unburdened. Like one who had carried every story, having conveyed every word she meant to convey, she wore an unburdened look. The Oldest: Director of Occult Affairs. Yeon-hui: Yes. The Oldest. The Oldest: I am sorry. For not being able to protect you longer. Yeon-hui: Mother. I-sim: Yes. Yeon-hui. Yeon-hui: I, that I could not, sooner, call you Mother, is all that I am sorry for. That alone, will remain as a deep sorrow within me.

The care of Mother, I have known in full. I, after sending Mother off, shall serve Next-in-line The Oldest, and shall do my utmost so that Next-in-line The Oldest may carry Mother's will forward whole. For all those who protected my life, I shall not throw my life away in vain. I, shall not, in any way, lose. I shall not be brought to my knees before anyone. The three had delivered every story, and heard every story. Slowly, I-sim nodded, let out a light sigh and drew a smile onto her face.

I-sim gently pushed aside the small side-table set before her, and then slowly raised her body from the cushioned mat. Ji-young and Yeon-hui, who had been seated before The Oldest, Hee-jin and Yu-seok — all rose from their places. I-sim moved her step and stood out before the cushioned mat. The Oldest, smoothing the folds of her jacket and her long skirt, slowly offered a bow. Ji-young and Yeon-hui, not flustered, met The Oldest's bow, and more slowly, more deeply, offered a return bow to The Oldest's bow.

The deep night was lifting. Even the soundlessly falling moonlight was gradually thinning in its force. Scene 19. A presence seated in neatly donned Hanbok was facing the incoming vehicle head-on. The presence, which had been standing silently, as if deliberating to the very end whether to step aside, did not give way to the vehicle that had drawn up right at her knees. It felt as though the first light of dawn was faintly rising.

The streets of the redevelopment complex, which had been as pitch-black as jet, had now come to the hour when the streetlamps set around had begun to go out, one by one. The streetlamps set around had snuffed out their light, but the headlights cast from the vehicle were bright enough. Toward the presence that would not yield the path, another presence that had stepped out of the car moved with a slow stride. Wordlessly, they faced each other quietly. She wanted to be stubborn.

She wanted to point at this person as the root cause of all this affair, to tear her down and condemn her. Whether fact or not fact, such a thing did not matter. She wanted to press on her that every cause that had made her walk such a path, that had made her lose the path, lay with this person. She was about to press. As such a voice was about to leak out, a cold touch — as if with a sorry and apologetic difficulty — moved, and drew together the upper arm of the presence that had stood barring the car.

She looked down quietly at the upper arm that had been drawn. She wanted to shake it off coldly, but she held back, biting her lip. She knew. She knew every bit of the truth. And, according to the truth, she had only chosen. Carefully, after lowering the aged hand that had cradled her upper arm, she drew one slow step back. She bent her waist deeply and offered her courtesy. Only then, under the headlights leaking from the vehicle, the proper forms of all those standing there were revealed. Hee-jin: You have come.

Bishop.