By Zephyria “You there, believer.”
“……”
The call to Seo Jun-yeong froze the bustling hall for a moment. Those who were seriously considering leaving the mountain now held their breath, focusing on her. Even Seo Jun-yeong.
“Do you see the candles lit over there?”
“……”
Seo Jun-yeong glanced at the candles lit on the altar behind her. He still wore a displeased expression.
“The actors, the production staff, and even the lowest-ranking crew member involved in this film. Everyone has a candle on that altar. I received a list of each person from Director Kang and wrote their names myself, lighting each one with sincere care.”
Come to think of it, the candles on the altar were all of different lengths. This was due to the time difference in when they were lit. If such a successful shaman had lit all these candles herself without the help of assistants, it was indeed a rare feat.
“Director Kang Woo-hyun has never once prayed for a film’s box office success. He prays that the production can be completed safely, without anyone getting hurt or into trouble.”
“……”
“It’s worlds apart from you.”
“W-what are you talking about?”
Though he responded gruffly, Seo Jun-yeong was overwhelmed by the shaman’s aura, which was directed at him, and could only look at her out of the corner of his eye.
As if waiting for that question, a smile spread across the shaman’s face. It was the unmistakable smile of a medium, one that sent a shiver down the spine. She slowly approached Seo Jun-yeong, who had stiffened and taken half a step back.
“If this ritual is merely a primitive superstition of setting out food, lighting candles, and wishing for one’s desires, then what is the difference between it and the selfish prayers you offer at church with your meager donations?”
“What… that’s baseless… How do you know what I pray for?”
Since not many people knew Seo Jun-yeong attended church, a few people nearby murmured. He himself seemed shocked that the shaman mentioned church and prayer, yet he didn’t stop being stubborn.
“Even after I’ve given you this much of a hint, you still refuse to stop insulting the spirits. Shall I tell you that your prayers to your god are merely for greed, for money, for envy and jealousy towards your colleagues?”
“……”
“Shall I even reveal what awards you pray to receive, or whose names are mentioned in your prayers?”
The shaman’s voice and method of speaking, as she pressed Seo Jun-yeong, were sharp, like poking at various parts of a person with a needle. It was a stark contrast to her gentle and amiable demeanor just moments ago when greeting people. Seo Jun-yeong, his face flushed with fear and shame, could not speak.
The shaman, who had approached slowly, finally stopped in front of Seo Jun-yeong.
“Tell me. What exactly is the difference between the prayers here and the prayers at church or in Buddhist temples?”
The shaman leaned forward, bringing her face close to Seo Jun-yeong’s nose.
“Unlike my spirits, is your god visible?”
Even though she was looking up at him from a much lower position, Seo Jun-yeong was the one who felt crushed by her gaze. He stumbled backward on trembling legs.
“Belief and devotion in unseen concepts. That is common to all faith in the world!”
At her shout, which seemed to echo across the entire mountain and heavens, Seo Jun-yeong hastily fled the Gutdang. He tumbled down the stairs and ran across the wet, muddy ground, slipping. Still, he didn’t stop, constantly looking back to see if the shaman was chasing him, and sprinted towards the path leading to the parking lot.
The shaman, who had followed Seo Jun-yeong to the door, stood there watching his retreating figure before turning back.
Adjusting her skirt and about to cross the threshold, she glanced at Yoon Hye-an, who had been pushed to the very end of the line, outside the door. She looked back and forth between Yoon Hye-an and Kim Yi-jung, who were standing side-by-side, then completely turned around, intending to enter the Gutdang.
Her gaze, fixed on Yoon Hye-an, held a peculiar glint.
“I sensed a disturbance in the energy, and it was because of this.”
As if only she and the other person existed in the world, an intense focus flowed from her towards Yoon Hye-an. People naturally distanced themselves from the two, and Yoon Hye-an stood frozen, as if bound.
A powerful spiritual energy emanated from her, as if the ritual were reaching its climax.
Lee Hae-sung’s body flinched, as if he were about to rush towards the two of them.
As she gathered her spiritual power, she spoke calmly to Yoon Hye-an.
“Parishioner, let’s talk quietly for a moment, just the two of us.”
“Me… with me?”
“You look quite unwell, so I’d like to speak with you urgently.”
From where Lee Hae-sung stood inside the Gutdang, the two voices were not clearly audible. It seemed they were discussing health, but the specific details were unknown.
“It is a priority to clear your energy before the ritual begins, so please wait here for a moment, everyone.”
After relaying this to the General Manager, the shaman turned to leave with Yoon Hye-an. Seeing Yoon Hye-an hesitate and try to follow her, clearly frightened, Lee Hae-sung could no longer just stand by and watch.
Pushing through the crowd that had gathered as if for a spectacle, he caught up to them outside the main gate, on the raised platform beneath the eaves.
He grabbed Yoon Hye-an’s shoulder as he followed, stopping him from going further.
“Where are you taking him?”
“……”
The shaman’s gaze, which felt like it was driving nails into his forehead, shoulders, and chest to fix a person in place, turned back to Lee Hae-sung.
After calmly examining Lee Hae-sung and Yoon Hye-an alternately, she nodded.
“You don’t seem to be an unrelated party, so if you are that concerned, you may come along.”
Passing under the eaves and around the corner of the building, they found a small room that required them to stoop to enter.
Inside the cozy room, various shamanic tools (Mu-gu) and Shinbok were neatly arranged: bells, fans, janggu, gongs, jakdu, shin-kal, poles, and flags. There was also a modest space for resting.
Despite the lighting installed on the ceiling, the shaman did not turn on any separate lights. The interior was even darker than the main gate area. The shaman, placing Yoon Hye-an in the center of the space beneath the floorboards, lit a candle in a corner.
“Why I asked to see you, you surely know, Parishioner…”
The two candles were insufficient to illuminate the interior, which was as dark as dusk. Lighting the candles, she took a bell from the shelf where the shamanic tools were organized.
Without being loud, just by shaking it gently, the sound of the bell evoked a sense of ill omen and unease. Shaking the bell, the shaman slowly examined Yoon Hye-an’s face, her head tilting in a puzzled way.
“Is it a ghost, or a corpse?”
A few steps behind Yoon Hye-an, standing by the door, Lee Hae-sung’s brow furrowed.
“Even if one walks, talks, and chews food like a living person, they are still a corpse. Even if they feel joy, anger, sadness, or pleasure, in the end, they are a ghost. How did a ghost gain a body, and how did a corpse gain a soul?”
Her initial impression of a stern old woman with high aspirations and pure energy vanished, and she transformed into a full Manshin, roaring as if striking down a mischievous spirit tormenting people.
Following the increasingly rapid sound of the bell, Yoon Hye-an’s shoulders, visible only from behind, were heaving rapidly.
Thinking it wouldn’t do, just as Lee Hae-sung was about to intervene, the shaman stopped, holding the bell high.
“Do you feel a sudden surge of nausea, break out in a cold sweat all over, and then your vision spins and you faint?”
Lee Hae-sung couldn’t help but freeze. These were exactly the symptoms Yoon Hye-an displayed as he collapsed.
“A giraffe wearing a dragon’s mask, it’s no match, so it’s bound to suffocate.”
Tsk, tsk, tsk, she clicked her tongue and shook her head, looking deeply into Yoon Hye-an with eyes filled with pity.
“I’ve only heard about it from the elders, I never thought I’d see it with my own eyes in my lifetime.”
Setting the bell down, she clasped her hands together and repeatedly bowed to Yoon Hye-an.
“Due to the mistake of the Three Realms’ ghost grandmother, the underworld attire caught on the spirit tree was put on incorrectly… Spirits, please observe. This spirit’s sin is not its own.”
Lee Hae-sung could no longer bear to watch the back of Yoon Hye-an, who was trembling, completely overwhelmed by the shaman’s energy. The shaman’s mumbling, which he couldn’t understand, the candle flames dancing wildly despite no breeze, all felt like elaborate trickery to Lee Hae-sung.
He strode forward and blocked Yoon Hye-an’s path, an action that happened before he was even aware of it. It felt as if the air pressure had increased, or as if he were deep underwater, making movement difficult. Even as he experienced it directly, Lee Hae-sung could neither accept nor believe these phenomena.
Shielding Yoon Hye-an from the shaman, Lee Hae-sung pushed between them, resisting the pressure that bore down on his body, and confronted the shaman.
“What are you doing? Can’t you see he’s scared? Is frightening people your job?”
The shaman’s gaze pierced Lee Hae-sung as if to devour his soul.
Then, as if finding this interesting too, she straightened up and faced Lee Hae-sung. Though she was significantly shorter and clearly looking up at him, Lee Hae-sung felt an overwhelming pressure as if she were looking down from an impossibly high place.
“What is clouding the Parishioner’s eyes, preventing him from seeing?”
“……”
“Faith and devotion towards unseen concepts. Isn’t that common to all faiths in the world, and the very essence of affection?”
Everything she said was like a code to Lee Hae-sung. It was like a riddle, tantalizingly close yet elusive. He had always thought such ambiguous statements were the trickery of shamans.
But why?
He found himself pondering her words, even without understanding their meaning.
The essence of affection.
Believing in the unseen heart of another and offering devotion.
Feeling the bare skin on his elbow, Lee Hae-sung suddenly turned his head and looked down. Yoon Hye-an, sweating and breathing heavily, was now standing right beside him. With eyes that were hazy as if he were blind, breathing shallowly, he clutched Lee Hae-sung’s elbow tightly, as if he were the only one in this world he could rely on.
The moment he saw that, everything else became unimportant. It didn’t matter if the person before him was a shaman or a god. It didn’t matter if the person clinging to his arm was putting on a show. He decided to believe what he wanted to believe. At least, in that moment.
Turning his back on the shaman, he put his arm around Yoon Hye-an’s shoulders and led him out of the room. Standing Yoon Hye-an, who was trembling with his arms wrapped around himself, Lee Hae-sung took off his coat and wrapped it around him like a blanket. Pulling the shivering body, whose teeth were chattering, into his arms, he quickened his pace.
Kirin: A mythical creature from East Asian legends. It is considered a sacred divine beast in most East Asian cultures.