The face vanishes into the darkness, only for a fully form to push forward. It invades your space. It surrounds you. As if someone cold–something cold–is hugging you. You feel the cold seep into your body, your bones. Then knowledge.
You learn things you have heard in rumor. You learn things you have heard in myth. You learn things you have never heard of. Histories of a people who you have never heard of. Islanders living in a way that makes no sense. No technology, no great buildings, no weapons. No enhancements.
You learn of a taboo committed.
You learn of a family slaughtered.
“ d e a t h to the u n d y i n g.”
The form speaks into your mind as these images flash through you. Cementing the knowledge into your mind.
“ a p e o p l e with the g i f t of l i f e”
You see a a pair of twins walking hand in hand through this village. You see their mismatched eyes.
You see the fear in the eyes of the village.
“ to k i l l one of y o u r own.”
The images flash by quickly, you are unable to understand what you are seeing now. White sails, a village killed, a darkness over the land, a city made. The form slowly pulls away and so do the images. The knowledge stays.
“ n o t y e t .…. . curse n o t o v e r “
The form releases you.
“ take wha t you have le a r n ed.
b r e a t h a n e w a i r “
the thing disappears, taking the reflection of his own face with it. geon doesn’t relax yet, not trusting the moment of quiet, and he learns that he is right to do so when it’s suddenly back. more solid, attacking his personal space and bathing him in coldness— dread? geon tries to step back, away from the unknown creature. he tries to call out for help, but his voice seems to die in his throat, never making a sound.
there’s something in his head. something that is not himself, not his thoughts, planting memories that are not his own. it terrifies him. it’s not like when haneul is in his head, gentle and reassuring as she shares her voice. no, he’s tormented by visions of slaughter and blood, of a curse that he had nothing to do with and yet seems to bear the punishment of now. as the thing speaks, geon is hit with the realization that he will not be able to forget this, that he’s been chosen by something to carry this legacy that he didn’t ask for. there’s tears in his eyes, the sensation of a whole community suffering, mourning, too much pain for any one person to bear—
and in the next moment, it’s gone. the thing pulls away, taking it’s strange visions and cold fingers with it. geon gasps, and in the next moment he realizes that he’s sitting upright, that there’s light, and that the creature, whatever it was, is nothing more than an echo even in his own head.
the numbness fades away, pain settling in to take its place where it had been. suddenly daylight is too bright, a headache blossoming beneath his skull before he can think to close his eyes again to protect them. he’s aware that he’s in the presence of medics; he just hopes that they see the way his face goes pale, even slightly green, before he turns his head as his stomach heaves. there’s nothing in him but bile, and yet he still gasps and chokes for several long moments, as if trying to rid himself of some toxin that doesn’t actually exist.
“did it work?” he chokes out as soon as his stomach settles enough to allow him to do so. he doesn’t have a mirror, not yet. he doesn’t know that there’s still black marks on his skin, red eyes blinking back at him. by the time someone shows him, he already knows the answer anyway. he can feel it churning like a bad dream.













