Chapter 1: The Echo of Ten Thousand Years

It was a day so clear and blue that the cloudless sky stung the eyes.

The crimson of the trumpet flowers, blooming as if to cover the cliff, mingled with that blue sky to create a dazzling day.

Yet for him, who had lived through such a long span of years, it was just another day.

The sky’s beauty did not reach his eyes, nor did the flowers covering the thousand-li cliff stir any emotion in him.

To him, the world was simply the creation of the Mother Goddess, beings he was meant to watch over.

There was no joy, no delight.

And so, no sorrow, no anger.

The sun rising and setting, seasons changing, life born and dying, all of it was merely routine.

Following an old habit, he walked slowly along the shore of the blue lake.

When he had walked about halfway along the cliff, crimson petals fluttered down like snow above his head.

He looked up in the direction from which the flowers fell.

Amid the scattering petals, someone was falling.

The red robes looked like petals themselves, and he unconsciously reached out to catch the falling figure.

The man in his arms, thinking he was about to die, kept his eyes squeezed shut.

But after a long moment brought no pain, he finally cracked his eyes open.

He met the man’s gaze.

Against a black sky, crimson flowers drifted.

He asked the human man held in his arms.

“Who are you?”

The man blinked his large eyes, glanced around, then looked up at him and said:

“Neungso, I am called Neungso.”

A wind blew.

A single blossom, fallen from the cliff, settled upon his chest.

Jawoon woke to a voice calling him from afar.

What came into view was not the sky but a familiar scene.

As he rose, something pooled at the corner of his eyes traced down his face and dripped away.

“…Neungso.”

Jawoon wiped the clear liquid away with his fingertips.

Seeing the moisture that wet his fingertips, Jawoon smiled faintly.

“It’s been a while since I saw you.”

The liquid that had dampened his fingertips vanished after a moment.

Jawoon clenched his dry hand into a fist.

The corners of his lips, which had been smiling, trembled slightly.

[Jawoon-nim.]

The voice that had awakened him sounded again.

Though expressed as a sound, it was not heard through the ears but reached his mind directly.

Jawoon rose from his seat, as if familiar with the strange voice, and spoke.

“What is it, Geuma?”

The door slid open silently to both sides.

Unlike the interior of the room, outside was filled with water in all directions.

Standing within that water was a child in red robes.

The child seemed at home in the water.

When the child took a step back and folded his hands, his red sleeves rippled naturally with the undulating current.

He was a cute child with hair tied up in two round buns on either side of his head.

But, incongruous with that adorable face, his expression was as devoid of emotion as a porcelain doll.

His large eyes looked up at Jawoon without blinking.

“You seem to be in a good mood.”

“Yes. I had a pleasant dream.”

A small smile spread across Geuma’s normally expressionless face.

Though it was a child’s face with chubby cheeks, the smile that bloomed held a depth of experience like an old man who had lived many years.

But the smile was brief.

Geuma’s face returned to the same blankness as when he had first opened the door, and he spoke in a courteous manner.

“A white crane from the Heavenly Realm has come seeking you.”

At the mention of the white crane, Jawoon’s face brightened once more.

“I will go shortly.”

Geuma bowed deeply, then lightly kicked his feet.

In an instant, the child transformed into a small golden fish, the size of a palm, waving its red fins gently.

Watching Geuma swim toward the surface, Jawoon waved his hand.

The clear water that had entered through the door wrapped around him, and over the comfortable white robes he wore, a purple surcoat and a black belt materialized.

His black hair, which had been loose and falling to his feet, was also pinned up with a silver ornament.

All of this began and ended before Jawoon had taken even three steps.

Once fully dressed, Jawoon stepped outside the door.

Outside, variously colored round stones were laid as paving, and around them, water plants grew instead of flowers and trees.

Light shimmered with the waves, creating patterns on the water plants.

Jawoon’s hair and robes also rippled in the waves.

Jawoon lightly pressed his toe against a round paving stone on the ground and pushed his body forward.

Then, the next moment, he was standing on the water.

As the master of this land revealed himself above the water, even the wind died down in deference.

“We greet the master of Cheonryeongji, the Heavenly Spirit Lake.”

A boy in white robes, who had been speaking with Geuma in red, spotted Jawoon.

The child folded his white wings like arms and bowed deeply in respect.

“Rise.”

Only after Jawoon’s words did the white crane straighten up.

But his head remained respectfully bowed.

“It’s been a while, Baekhak.”

“Yes. The last time I saw you was three years ago, by the lower realm’s reckoning.”

Jawoon walked across the water toward Baekhak.

A gentle breeze, as if welcoming Jawoon who had come out of the water after a long time, blew and lightly stirred his purple robes and long hair.

Baekhak bowed once more.

The boy was a herald of the Heavenly Emperor.

Everywhere in the world, the Heavenly Emperor’s herald was a being held in respect.

They were esteemed beyond measure, for they conveyed the will of the Heavenly Emperor, and their attitude toward immortals could be seen as arrogant at first glance.

But no one ever faulted the herald’s arrogance.

Most immortals, no matter how high their own rank, always showed respect to Baekhak, the Heavenly Emperor’s herald, and considered it only natural.

And yet, this Baekhak acted before Jawoon with the same deference he showed the Heavenly Emperor.

Baekhak who gave the respect, Jawoon who received it, and even Geuma who observed it, all accepted this as a matter of course.

“The Heavenly Emperor has granted the request of the master of Cheonryeongji.”

A bright smile spread across Jawoon’s face.

Baekhak drew a round jade token from his bosom and held it out with both hands.

The token, made of white jade, gave off a faint golden glow.

Jawoon took the token with an expression of immense joy.

But Geuma, watching, furrowed his brow slightly.

For this insignificant token, his master had sent a request to the Heavenly Realm every single day for the past three years, without missing a single day.

“I will go right away.”

“I shall escort you.”

Baekhak gave his wings a great flap.

A strong wind swept fiercely across Cheonryeongji, and the small boy had become a massive crane.

Before climbing onto the crane, Jawoon spoke to Geuma, who stood with his feet still in the water.

“I’ll be back.”

Geuma’s brow was still furrowed.

He was trying to hide his emotions but not quite succeeding.

“I will keep the path open.”

“Yes, thank you for your hard work.”

Jawoon, pretending not to see Geuma’s face, gave his head a brief pat before climbing onto the crane’s back.

Baekhak spread his enormous wings and soared into the sky.

The great wings that covered the sky moved, yet only a gentle breeze followed.

With a furrowed brow, Geuma watched the white crane’s enormous wings until they vanished beyond the sky.

Geuma let out a long sigh that belied his youthful face, then looked around out of habit.

Sunlight poured down upon the lake, so vast that the horizon was visible.

The sparkling light that rippled along the waves was like jewels.

Geuma knelt on the water and plunged both hands deep into it.

From his small hands that touched the water up to his cheeks, faint red scales appeared.

Then, after a moment, a halo of light rose from the center of the lake, shooting up to the edge of the sky.

The light connected heaven and earth.

It was a bright light, but it did not sting or hurt the eyes.

It was a soft, gentle light, like spring sunshine or a lamp lit at dawn.

From high in the sky came the cry of a crane.

“…The one who was the ruler of the eastern sky and earth, now cannot even set foot in the Heavenly Realm without the Emperor’s permission…”

Geuma muttered, sounding disheartened, but there was no one to hear him.

After some time, Geuma withdrew his hands from the water.

The halo of light scattered like fireflies and then disappeared.

On the back of his hand, now out of the water, there was not even a trace of scales.

Geuma, still wading in the water, raised both hands toward the sky and pressed his palms together.

It looked like a prayer to heaven.

“Please, return safely this time as well.”

Even without permission, his master had tried to ascend to the Heavenly Realm several times, only to fall from the sky, bloodied.

That image was still vivid in his mind.

Even when his limbs were torn apart, leaving barely a form, his master did not give up.

With bones exposed and not a single sound part, as soon as he regained consciousness, he tried to climb to the Heavenly Realm again.

Geuma had wept with a cry that shed no tears, blocking Jawoon’s path.

Geuma recalled the hollow look in Jawoon’s eyes as he knelt there, saying it would be better for his master to kill him before going.

It was long ago now, but Geuma still remembered the lake stained red with blood from the wounds.

Every time his master went to the Heavenly Realm, Geuma’s sighs grew.

When will he return this time?

I hope he comes back unharmed.

Knowing full well that his prayer was meaningless, Geuma closed his eyes and offered a prayer to no one in particular.

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