Chương 94: S.05 Time to Fly 04(04)

Scene 01_16. Water burst as if breaking open, and someone came down to their knees. A clear night, yet Black Water poured down in a burst and spat a single presence to the ground as if vomiting it up. As if they had been waiting, beside the collapsed presence stood a few who did not hide their hostility. Jeong-in: Deputy Physician. Jeong-in's clean voice came in. The presence spat from the Black Water was none other than Yu-seok. The fallen Yu-seok, propping himself up from the dirt, drew a thin smile. Yun-ji: Yes.

Director. Jeong-in: By The Oldest's order, please treat this criminal at once, and — as you have heard — drive him out, far from here. Yun-ji: Understood. Leaving behind that cool, clipped answer, Jeong-in turned to leave. Just as she did, Yu-seok — pulled together, sprawled — let his voice reach Jeong-in's back. Yu-seok: Looks like you all knew. The whole time. Jeong-in did not speak. She threw a glance back over her shoulder, then carried on the rest of her steps. Scene 02.

Ji-young, color returning to her face, began to drift to the surface of the Black Water. Hyang-rim took a brief look at her own broken hand. Jeong-seon was the first to come back to herself, and helped Si-yeon — still unconscious, floating on the water like Ji-young — out and over the lip of the basin. Hee-jin pulled Ji-young's body up onto land. Just as Hyang-rim, late to it, tried to rise, Jeong-seon stepped back into the basin once full of Black Water and caught Hyang-rim's hand. Jeong-seon: Mom.

Jeong-seon, still girlish, took Hyang-rim's whole hand and would not let her step out. Hyang-rim covered Jeong-seon's hand — even with the hand that had been broken — careful and steady. Hyang-rim: Jeong-seon-ah. There's no need for that. Jeong-seon burst into tears like a child and did not let go of Hyang-rim's hand to the end. Hee-jin, without a word, left Ji-young and Si-yeon and stood up, slow. With Jeong-seon's hand firmly in hers, Hyang-rim at last came up out of the water.

Before stepping out of the Sealed Sanctum, Hee-jin came to stand in front of Hyang-rim and let her voice settle low. Hee-jin: Until those two wake, please wait, just a little. They will come for the traces left in the Bishop. And when they do, the Bishop's body will collapse. The Envoy will, again — Hyang-rim: I'm not without fear. I have feared death more than anyone, which is the only reason I have carried this trace this far. But the Envoy will not be able to shape my body. Hee-jin pulled an expression of doubt.

Hyang-rim: Every believer and Steward of The Black Doctrine has worn death over an intact body. I — long ago, when I was driven from The Covenant of yours, I was burned, and only half of me was left. What forced that half to stay was none other than Retribution and the Immolation. That is the reason I am so afraid of fire.

As long as Retribution holds the cord of my life, as long as the Immolation forcibly keeps the half of my true flesh that has crossed to Jeo-seung — neither the Envoy nor the Harbinger will be able to shape my body whole. So — do not block this last step of mine. Hee-jin watched Hyang-rim still, an expression with everything in it. Hee-jin, standing right at the door of the Sealed Sanctum, drew her body aside with effort. Hyang-rim opened the door with a quiet face and looked out. Outside was a ruin.

No Geu-seun-dae or Geu-seun-sae remained. The black rain no longer fell. But every Steward, and Gyeong-seo and Yeon-su — who had pulled out every last drop they had — lay on the ground, unable to get up. Standing to the end, blocking the way to the Sealed Sanctum, was only So-hui, her clothes all scorched through. So-hui, already injured beyond measure, looked as if standing itself was no easy thing for her. Light was rising in the far distance, to push back the deep dark.

Only a single presence remained, standing across from Hyang-rim as she stepped outside, looking back at her steadily. The body looked human, but it had been shaped of Black Water — and from that Black Water came an unmeasurable heat, even haze shimmering off it. The Weeping of Immolation: Hand over putrefaction, and you, we will take. Hyang-rim's two eyes still could not return to their own form.

Holding the black 삼도천(Samdo-cheon_River of the Dead) inside them, Hyang-rim's eyes — the deep abyss drawn down over them — took on a bright smile. The Bishop: Do as you say. The moment Hyang-rim's voice carried, every Steward who had fallen tried to stagger to their feet. It was close to a compulsion that they had to do something, anything. With Hyang-rim's first step out, one of her legs crumbled away like ash. Lee Yeon, who had barely got up, came with Jeong-seon to brace Hyang-rim's tilting body between them.

Hyang-rim was not in pain. With a calm expression set in her face, she carried on her remaining steps and went outside. The two legs she moved a little at a time at last crumbled to dust, leaving only the limp hem of her skirt. So-hui rushed in to support Hyang-rim's remaining shoulder, but there was no shoulder left to brace. As if to say there was no other way, Jeong-seon — eyes wet — gathered Hyang-rim up bodily into her arms.

Hyang-rim, left with only her trunk and one arm, having lost all the rest of her body, let a small voice reach So-hui. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings. Hyang-rim: So-hui. Isn't it, awfully funny. So-hui: Just wait a little longer. Bishop. I will block them. To the very end please stand here with us — Hyang-rim: I have given you all a helplessness. I am sorry. I — unlike I-sim — am leaving you all with nothing but the burden of me, to the very end.

Cutting So-hui's plea short, Hyang-rim let out a small reflection. Jeong-seon, holding the now diminished Hyang-rim tight, tried to step past the Immolation, but the Immolation was not going to let Jeong-seon and Hyang-rim go. The presence of the Immolation raised a single hand. As in the long-ago time when she had once burned, Hyang-rim's body began to heat up. Jeong-seon, refusing to let go of Hyang-rim, held her in deeper still. Jeong-seon's skin swelled and began to blister.

Around the Immolation, a sharp, bone-cold sound of wind ran on. A black wind blew in and tore the Immolation's arm clean off. Ji-young: If you mean to take from us even the last sliver of time we have, A damp, heavy 철릭(Cheollik_Traditional coat-dress) robe shifted. Ji-young, smeared with her own blood and Black Water, moved slow steps and was coming out. Her face had gone bone-pale, yet on it was etched the expression of one who would not, in the end, easily give up a single thing.

Ji-young's two eyes blackened in a heartbeat. Black veins stood out, thick and pronounced, around her eyes — as if she had pulled up every channel of water in her. Ji-young: Today, I will chase down every last one of you, and I will not leave a single one alive. I will butcher all of you. Around the Immolation, 현사(Hyeon-sa_Black Wire) spread itself out, soaked through with the Black Water seeping out from Ji-young's wrists.

As if it would smash the Immolation to dust at any moment, the wire flickered, light and sharp. The Immolation, unable to shape its arm again, drew its step back a touch. Reading the Immolation's response as offering even a sliver of time, Ji-young turned her head and looked at So-hui. Ji-young: Help everyone here. I'll take the Immolation. So-hui nodded, drew the Grey Ash from her bosom, and moved with a quickened step. Jeong-seon braced Hyang-rim, who had begun to crumble, with care.

Hee-jin, the least battered of them, stepped further in and passed the Grey Ash to everyone. With the Grey Ash that Hee-jin and So-hui passed around, every one of those who had gone down recovered a little strength, rose, and seated themselves before Hyang-rim. Si-yeon, who had lost consciousness inside the Sealed Sanctum, also came out and helped So-hui. After Gyeong-seo and Yeon-su came back to themselves, every one of them set their knees low and faced Hyang-rim.

Jeong-seon was watching Hyang-rim, unable to hide tears that would not stop. Holding to the one intact remaining hand of Hyang-rim's, she lowered her knees in supplication. The broad, cozy yard of the main hall of The Black Doctrine was either rotted away by black rain or burning. While Ji-young turned her back and kept her stand-off with the Immolation, Hyang-rim, helped up by Jeong-seon and Si-yeon, managed to sit herself upright at last and let her calm voice carry on.

Hyang-rim: You all wouldn't listen to me, would you, and you came to see this useless old hag's end. At Hyang-rim's gentle scolding, laced with a smile, no one carried a word back. From the black-faded eyes, an ichor had begun to seep. Hyang-rim's grip ran hot enough to leave soot on Jeong-seon's hand. But Hyang-rim did not let Jeong-seon's hand go now either. Hyang-rim: I will rest, from here on. All of mine, I have left to my daughter, our daughter — Yoon Jeong-seon.

At Hyang-rim's calm voice, every person there with her bent their heads low. Only one kept her head up and faced Hyang-rim. Ji-young did not avoid Hyang-rim's eyes to the very end. Hyang-rim: The next Bishop, the second, shall be Yoon Jeong-seon. All Stewards and believers — stand with Jeong-seon, hold deep in you the teachings we have polished and honed, and help her four butterflies who chase the natural order. A calm, steady voice. Hyang-rim was neither stirred up nor choked. As ever, calm, firm.

Her flesh swelled up in welts, white smoke rising. Blisters burst and Black Water leaked from them. Ji-young, who had kept her back turned to keep watch on the Immolation, asked Hyang-rim behind her, voice low. Ji-young: Godmother. Once again, with the close, familiar word for an elder she trusted, at Ji-young's voice Hyang-rim let a low smile carry to Ji-young's back. Hyang-rim: Yes. Ji-young. Ji-young: Let me ask, one more time. I can, even now, chase all of these down and butcher every one of them.

Jeong-seon's road, what she shaped, is still inside the Sealed Sanctum of The Black Doctrine, and I — I can follow that road, and I can erase every — Hyang-rim: Ji-young-ah. Hyang-rim gently held back Ji-young's calm-but-pressing voice. Hyang-rim: Not today. It was what So-hui had once said to Si-yeon. So-hui's grim plea, soothing Si-yeon's tantrum when she had not wanted to let I-sim go. The hapless tantrum of children unable to block an elder trying to take a road she has to take — Ji-young knew that well.

And every one of them who had been there — So-hui and Si-yeon both — could not let a single word come out. Hyang-rim reset the line of her robe a touch. The Bishop: This — was my best. The Weeping of Immolation: Yes. In the end, that was always the answer. The Bishop: The Envoy's Legion will never break the Harbinger, the Envoy, and — soon — the Conduit, who shall arrive. The Weeping of Immolation: Death that dwells within life — that we can stand against, at any time.

The Bishop: To, with the audacity, the audacity of being merely the Envoy's Legion, betray the Envoy and try to break the key found through such labor — what could be more laughable than that. To plan death, to serve death, to caress death — and yet every one of you, the Envoy's Legion, cannot lay down the foolish greed for the continued existence of your own being. It is, simply, a disappointment.

The Immolation, standing as a blackened, scorched presence, raised the one hand it had left without a sound, as if it would not listen anymore. It moved the burning arm slow, pointed it at Hyang-rim. Everything around went black and singed, blistering, raising welts in every direction. The time it took to draw up the remaining trace was not long. The Immolation, as if it had done all it had come to do, lowered the arm it had raised and burst its own body apart in scattering. Ji-young whipped around.

In Jeong-seon's arms, Hyang-rim's face had recovered its peace, and the deep lines on it were drawing deeper still. With the warped life drawn out of her, Hyang-rim was letting her strength go fast. Watching Hyang-rim's lines deepen, Jeong-seon held Hyang-rim closer. This moment — the moment she had so desperately hoped would never come — was the last. Jeong-seon let out the words she had always held in her mouth.

Words she had said any time, but now believed she could never say again, that even if she did, they would not be heard. Jeong-seon cried out. Jeong-seon: Mom. Mom! At Jeong-seon's cry, Hyang-rim smiled, weak. Through Jeong-seon's cold hand, Hyang-rim's warming hand came through. Hyang-rim had lost all her strength. She had so much she wanted to say, so much left over — but the words and the strength were already gone. Only then did Hyang-rim decide to accept the end of her long, long life.

Jeong-seon: When you come again, raise me as your daughter again. Yeah? Yeah? Hyang-rim's hand, holding Jeong-seon's, was losing strength fast. Jeong-seon: Mom. You be happy too. Be happier! Yeah? The hand that had held Jeong-seon's fast faded out, like a thin wind. Jeong-seon could not let go of Hyang-rim's hand to the end. After speaking a short reflection with a small smile, Hyang-rim let her last breath go, like that. Jeong-seon, as if she had said everything she had set out to say, only kept wiping her tears.

She did not carry on speaking. Watching that, Ji-young too had so much she had wanted to say. If only she had seen Mom's last moment. If only Mom had closed her eyes beside her. She had wanted, so much, to say she was sorry. And — to say she would live as Mom's daughter, no matter what. So, having reached Hyang-rim's rest, Ji-young came to Jeong-seon with care and braced her up. Jeong-seon found the courage to set down her mom's hand. There was no sound of mourning.

The heavy grief that filled the air sat heavy, but no one cried aloud. Ju-rim: The road we walked together, Following Ju-rim as she rose with effort, every Steward, Hee-jin, So-hui, and Si-yeon stood up. Jeong-seon and Ji-young laid Hyang-rim down gently and, having risen, smoothed the lines of their robes. Ju-rim's wordless bow ran once. Every bow there followed Ju-rim's. Ju-rim: The road you had to take, Ju-rim's bow ran again, mixed in the tears of one who had carried so much grief through.

Jeong-seon, who had not wanted to do it twice, bent her knees with effort. Ju-rim: To the very end, that you were not, please — not so alone — that is our prayer. Light was rising, bright. The bright early-spring sun was drying every channel of Black Water that had settled in damp. Every one of them had lost their words, yet they were carrying so much of it. And the one who had lost all words was quietly hearing the soundless wailing of all of them.