Chapter 7: The Beginning of Everything

“They say flower buds have opened in the garden! Spring is finally beginning again!”

“Yeah! Huh, wha-?”

“New servants of spring are going to be born again! That means we won’t be the youngest anymore! I’ve got to go!”

Hee-seo poured out everything he had to say and left. Unable to believe it, Myeong could only clutch the pouch tightly in his hand. The news Hee-seo had brought sent Myeong plunging straight into despair.

A new servant of spring was going to be born? Then what would happen to Myeong? Would he simply be forgotten? Would the God of Spring really never know that he existed? Amid the questions flooding his mind, Myeong could find no answers and felt himself growing numb.

Right beside him, countless servants were celebrating Spring, but one step behind them, Myeong could not bring himself to be happy and instead shed tears. His heart felt utterly wretched.

****

Myeong immediately ran off to find Giju, the senior immortal in charge of managing the flower children.

‘Now that the God of Spring has regained his strength, surely he must have invited me to the festival.’

The gods of each season knew the exact number and appearance of all their servants. That was the law. So surely, now that the God of Spring had recovered, he would look for Myeong.

“Lord Giju! Lord Giju!”

“What is it? Who’s there?!”

“It’s Myeong. It’s me, Myeong.”

Calling out Giju’s name from the large shrine, Myeong flung open the door. Giju was busy dressing himself up to go to the Palace of Spring, so he jumped in surprise when Myeong suddenly burst in and muttered a curse under his breath.

“Myeong, what are you doing barging in like this? Have you finished all your work?”

“Is my name on the list? Is my name there?”

“What name could someone without a name possibly be looking for?”

Giju returned to looking at his reflection in the mirror and tidied his beard. Myeong anxiously stamped his feet.

“I heard the God of Spring has recovered. And flower buds have opened in the garden again. Is my name really not there?”

“Myeong.”

Giju let out a deep sigh and looked at Myeong through the mirror.

‘That little thing still hasn’t given up.’

“Why would the God of Spring look for someone like you?”

“…That can’t be true.”

“You are nothing. Nothing at all. Go back and work. If there’s no work, make some for yourself.”

“Nothing?”

“That’s right.”

As Myeong watched Giju speak with such certainty, tears began pouring from his eyes once again. It felt as though his heart were breaking into pieces. He was nothing. Myeong was nothing…

“Then why was I born in the garden?”

It couldn’t be. Myeong hid his trembling hands behind his back and asked again. There had to be a reason.

“How are we supposed to know whether you were born in the garden or whether someone found you and left you there?”

“Then why do I love the God of Spring so much?”

“Even a lowly creature naturally knows gratitude. You have received his grace, so perhaps that is why you feel that way.”

Giju looked annoyed, as though Myeong were asking all sorts of unnecessary questions. Myeong hesitated, then squeezed his eyes shut and asked the final question he had been preparing himself to ask.

“Why was I born?”

“Myeong, what do you think weeds are born for?”

“…”

For a hundred years, Myeong had searched endlessly for the answer since the moment he was born, yet in the end, all he received was an uncomfortable truth. He could not bear it any longer.

Unable even to hide his misery, Myeong simply ran outside, fleeing to somewhere Giju could no longer see him.

Giju watched Myeong dash out the door and clicked his tongue.

“Tsk. Young people these days. They have no manners.”

He had wasted far too much time on such a pointless conversation. Giju ran a comb through his beard once before putting on his finely woven silk robes. He would soon have an audience with the God of Spring. Unlike Myeong, Giju was an important servant of spring.

****

Myeong ran. He ran until the wind carried away his tears and snot, until all his worries and hardships might disappear. The land of spring was warm and gentle, but Myeong’s heart felt as though he were standing in the middle of a freezing sea.

He had fled with determination, but the only place he could go was his shabby home, the abandoned storage room. Myeong roughly wiped away his tears with his sleeve and began packing his things.

He was going to leave for the land of winter. He did not care if he died there. Rather than continue living without ever receiving a name from the God of Spring, he would risk his life and bring back the ice flower.

Two sets of clothes. One worn-out pair of shoes. One sweet. It was a pitiful amount of luggage, but it was everything Myeong possessed.

“I’ll definitely come back.”

‘I’ll come back having found my purpose. I’ll prove that I really am a servant of spring.’

He would not ask anyone anymore. The answer was something he would have to find for himself. Myeong bowed toward the Palace of Spring and firmly pressed his lips together.

‘I was born with a purpose, so now it is my turn to find out what that purpose is.’

After wiping away Giju’s words that continued to echo in his ears, Myeong finally turned around.

This was the beginning of everything.

****

Leaving the borders of spring was easy. Perhaps because the festival was just around the corner, the immortals guarding the entrance had let down their guard and were drinking and playing among themselves.

Besides, with the seats of the seasonal gods vacant except for Spring, there was hardly any reason to maintain such strict security. Who would dare covet the home of a seasonal god, let alone try to take it?

The strict hierarchy between the seasonal gods and their servants was inviolable.

Myeong quietly hid himself in the grass and slipped out through the entrance. His presence was so faint that no one noticed him at all.

Enduring was difficult, yet escaping was so easy. As Myeong left the land of spring, he kept looking back, reaching out with his fingertips toward the fading energy of spring. He missed it.

He missed it so terribly that he could hardly bear to put any distance between himself and home.

The land occupied by winter was the rugged and silent northern domain. It was said to be where Mago had first set foot, a place symbolizing both the beginning and the end.

Made up of enormous snow-covered mountains and glaciers, the northern land belonged to the winter wolf, notorious for his violent and savage nature. Since the essence of spring was flowers, the servants of spring were born with the nature of flowers.

Winter’s essence, on the other hand, was beasts, and its servants were said to resemble their master. These were merely rumors Myeong had overheard, but to him, even a single piece of information was precious.

‘Could I find the answer here, in a place inhabited by creatures like beasts?’

Myeong blew warm breath over his aching hands and continued forward. Not long after leaving the gentle eastern land, the soft earth transformed into frozen glaciers, and the warm breeze that had caressed his cheeks became a cutting, icy gale.

Even so, Myeong diligently pushed his way through the snow-covered path. He reached out and gathered snow into a ball, even sticking out his tongue to taste it.

But the momentary delight soon faded, and the closer he came to the heart of winter, the more the bitter cold and icy chill tormented him.

He had barely stepped into a fraction of the northern land, yet the cold had already invaded his entire body, making it difficult to breathe. Overwhelmed by the vastness and uncertainty of it all, Myeong stopped for a moment and lifted his head.

The black night above him was so profound that it seemed as though it might pour down over his head at any moment.

Deep winter stretched endlessly before him. Snow poured from the sky, and the white blanket covering the ground made it impossible to tell which direction he was going. White vapor rose from the tip of Myeong’s nose in rhythm with his ragged breaths.

He had not even managed to bring an umbrella, so Myeong took the falling snow directly against his body. His coarse hemp clothes had long since become soaked and frozen stiff, while his legs buried beneath the snow had gone numb, as though frostbite had already set in.

The icy wind tore into Myeong’s frail body like a blade.

But he could not stop here. Without knowing where he was going or even what his destination was, Myeong simply continued forward. The majestic snow-covered mountains stood proudly above him, towering over his tiny figure.

“Haa…”

Myeong let out a long breath. He was the only living thing breathing upon the silent land of winter. Myeong raised his head and looked upward. Amid the endlessly falling snow, the stars shone brilliantly.

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