Chapter 3
3
S
eung took the long route home, passing through woods filled with maples, pines, oak, and red trees, inhaling the smell of the earth, moss, and tree sap. She closed her eyes and sighed allowing the song of the forest to ease her mind. With no small bit of apprehension from her experience at the lake, she tentatively opened herself to the environment.
All about the woods and leafy forest floor, squirrels scurried up and down the trees in play. A crow called overhead, and another answered. Then another. She extended her awareness further and touched the presence of a wolf resting at the base of a tall pine. It lifted its head and twitched its ears, alert to her presence. After a moment, it lowered its head and relaxed.
Seung smiled as she moved on, walking slower than usual as she practiced extending her awareness all around her. She felt the contentment of the trees, the bushes and shrubbery basking in the sunlight, the moss and lichen clinging to the trees.
She’d first stumbled on this ability as a child. Adults had told her it was her imagination, but it only grew stronger the more she practiced it. Over time, her ability to attune with nature grew stronger until it simply felt a natural part of who she was. That ability had been a comfort for a child who was different from everyone else.
The stray thought sent her fingers to the tips of her ears, and she quickly covered them with her hair. No one Seung had ever met had ears like hers. Where others rounded at the top, hers came to a point. Where others of her people had features only slightly angular, hers were sharper. Her eyebrows were more pointed, her jawline and cheekbones slightly longer. The people of Kyu Village, were used to her sharp features and melodious voice, but she hid her ears under her hair always. It was a deformity she never let anyone see.
Seung hopped over a fallen tree, then started uphill. The woods northwest of Kyu were her favorite place, aside from Inayo Falls. Trees with red, yellow, and orange leaves shone in the late afternoon light, a beautiful heralding of autumn’s arrival. Seung closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out in a contented hum.
She thought back to her encounter in the lake. She hadn’t felt anything of that presence since retreating from the water. And the further she left it behind, the more the feelings dissolved to be replaced by the sweet and pungent smell of moss, the plants and flowers, the whispers of the trees, the bird chatter.
The possibility of something as large as what she’d felt living in that pond made Seung shudder. She shrugged the thought away. “Nothing lives in there but fish.”
She reached the top of the incline and looked down on the village below, surrounded by woods alight with multicolored leaves. “The fiery puffs of fall,” she murmured, and her round pink lips stretched into a smile.
The homes
of Kyu Village sat nestled against green, rolling hills, as though sitting upon huge wide stairs. Firmly packed dirt roads led through the middle of the village and branched off at various points at each level.
Seung inhaled the crisp fresh air of the breeze snaking its way down the hills. The wooden door to a home slid open and three children ran out, giggling and chasing each other. She looked up to see a fourth child peeking over the side of the gray tiled roof. The girl had a devious grin on her face as she cocked her arm back, a pine cone in her little hand as she took aim.
A woman with a large stuffed pack appeared from inside and yelled up at the child on the roof, then spotted Seung and bowed.
Despite her standing as the finest warrior in Kyu Village, Seung always felt undeserving of such reverence. She dipped into a small curtsy and bowed her head in turn, showing the elder woman equal respect.
The woman smiled and gathered up the children as the fourth boy climbed down from the roof. The woman looked past Seung with what seemed a concerned expression, then bowed her head once more, and herded the children up the path.
The deeper Seung moved into the village, the more populated it would become, so she paused to slide her hands through her hair to ensure it covered her ears.
To her surprise, however, few people populated the winding walkways. Those who were about, hurried from their homes up the hill toward the central pavilion. A tiny stab of fear pierced Seung’s stomach. Irrational as it was, she couldn’t help feeling that this was somehow connected to her experience at the falls. “Impossible,” she told herself.
A man trotted down the hill in her direction, and when he spotted Seung, broke into a run.
Seung smiled at her best friend. “Tae Kim! What is it?”
“Good,” Tae said, ignoring the question. Despite his having run from deeper in the village to find her, he still breathed easy. “You’ve saved me time.”
Her eyebrows raised. “Oh?”
Tae Kim started back in the direction he’d come, Seung falling in step beside him as he said, “We have visitors.”
Seung looked at him. “Why is that unusual?”
“They’re from Ulleung Island off the eastern coast.”
Seung felt the pit of her stomach go cold, though it was surely an absurd reaction. Why would this be connected to her experience? Yet somehow, deep down, she knew it was.
“You all right?” Tae asked.
Seung blinked. “Hm?”
“You know something I don’t?” Tae asked, nodding at her clenched fists.
Seung glanced down at her fists and relaxed. “No. I was just thinking about something I saw near the falls.”
Tae gave her a skeptical look. “As you say. They arrived here not long ago, and I was on my way to the falls to get you. Luckily, you’re back earlier than usual. I spoke with several of them, but they aren’t making much sense. They claim a giant wave rose high into the air and washed over the entire island…” he trailed off when Seung stopped. “What is it?”
“A wave washed over the whole island?”
Tae nodded. “That’s what they say, but I don’t see how it’s possible. A wave powerful enough to wash over an entire island, even one as small as Ulleung, would arrive at our own shores. Kyu’s not so far from the coast. Something that big would have reached us.”
In the blink of an eye, Seung relived the horrible moments shared with her by the presence in the lake. “It could still be coming toward us.”
“I sent scouts to the coast,” Tae said. “One of them should return soon with a report.”
They reached the central pavilion where it looked like all of Kyu was gathered. One of the village leaders stood on a raised platform, hands gesturing in the air as she spoke.
“… the warning of the unfortunate people who escaped the fate of their beloved home, we have a chance to be prepared. Take only what you need and move to the Sun and Moon Temples. They are the highest point in the area.”
“If an entire island was washed over,” Seung said as she and Tae observed the uneasy crowd, “those people wouldn’t have survived to reach us.”
Tae nodded again. “I said as much. But they claim that they were out at sea on their fishing boat when it happened, and set a course straight for the mainland.”
“They would have been riding high waves or drowning beneath them. This doesn’t make sense.”
“They claim the ocean settled immediately after Ulleung was destroyed.” Tae shook his head. “I told you they weren’t making much sense. I don’t doubt that some tragedy has happened, but events like this can skew one’s memory.”
Seung closed her eyes. Images flashed through her mind of washed over islands and waves as tall as the towers in the cities from the Age of Technology. She saw endless destruction, felt the anger, the sickness, the resentment. And it all felt like it originated from the vision of a snowy tundra guarded by a glaring mountain range. She gasped. When she looked to her side, Tae was staring at her.
She looked at him, taking in his dark brown eyes, close-cropped black hair and high cheekbones.
He said nothing, but Seung knew that look. Tae wouldn’t press, but it was obvious something was going on with her. She repressed a sigh of relief when one of Tae’s scouts came trotting up the hill. The scout bowed to each of them, then delivered his report.
“Master Tae. The tide is normal and the ocean is calm. There’s no indication that a tsunami or anything similar comes our way.”
Tae Kim nodded. “Given the suddenness of that last one, better to keep watch. Tell the others to maintain their posts until nightfall. No need to send word unless something unusual happens.”
Seung thought again of the vision of the mountain range in that harsh-looking snowy tundra. She felt a pulling from deep inside that seemed related to this place.
“… since you’ve returned, Seung.”
Tae’s voice interrupted her thoughts again and she blinked. “Hm?”
Her best friend sighed. “I said, you’ve been distracted since you’ve returned from Inayo. What’s going on with you?”
Seung opened her mouth several times.
“Are you trying to tell me fish are drowning?”
Her teeth clicked when she shut her mouth. “Funny.” She looked back to the raised platform, watching the announcements but not really listening. “I don’t know how to describe what’s on my mind without you thinking I’ve lost it.”
He smirked. “We’ve known each other all our lives, Seung. You’ve always been weird.” Tae chuckled and moved closer; Seung fought the impulse to ensure her hair was over her ears. “You’re like my sister, girl. Do you really think I don’t know why you style your hair that way? You probably think they’re a flaw, but I think they’re beautiful.”
Seung felt a stab of alarm but she calmed. Tae was indeed like her brother. He would never tell anyone about her deformity. “How long have you known?”
“Since we were children and fell asleep camping in the woods.”
Her lips parted in astonishment. “That was over twenty years ago,” she whispered.
“Not my business. You always hide it. I respect that.” He shrugged.
Seung smiled at her best friend. “Childhood cruelty managed to pass you by, didn’t it?”
Tae winked at her. “I knew something was different about you when your voice started to sound like you were always singing. Trust me, when the other boys finally grew up, it became a rather attractive quality about you, even if it was unusual.”
“We should talk with the refugees,” Seung said, embarrassed. To her relief, Tae let the subject drop.
A woman stood and moved away from the main group as Seung and Tae approached. Seung gave a mental nod of approval at the woman’s strong presence despite her petite stature.
“This is Mi-Suk,” Tae said, indicating the woman.
Mi-Suk was half a head shorter than Seung, with somewhat tanned skin, indicating years of field work. A breeze ruffled her shoulder-length hair, and she ignored the stray strands that fell in front of her light brown eyes. She executed a precise bow. This one had a strong will.
“Master Tae Kim and Master Seung Yoon. I offer gratitude on behalf of my people and myself, for your warm welcome. It has been…hard.”
Seung returned the bow and said, “I cannot imagine what you’ve been through, Mi-Suk. We are sorry for the loss of your loved ones and your home.”
The other woman pressed her lips together and gave a curt nod. “Thank you. All that is left of Ulleung is what you see here?” She half turned and waved out a hand to indicate the other refugees.
The haggard group stood silently, staring straight ahead. Their clothes and hair were soiled and tangled, patches of sand stuck here and there to their bodies. With an effort, Seung kept the emotion from her face and her voice. “We are happy to help you rebuild your lives here, or anywhere you wish.”
Mi-Suk nodded again with a forced smile. “The people of Kyu are kind. Have you come to speak with me about what happened?”
“I have.”
Mi-Suk spread her hands. “That won’t take long, for there is little to say. I normally work the fields and harvest the vegetables and roots. Today I was asked to help on the fishing boats, and I was excited for the change in routine.”
And that invitation saved your life,
Seung thought.
“We set out at dawn, and were out for half the day. Once our barrels were filled with fish, we set out for home. We were in sight of Ulleung when we heard a sound as if the ocean itself drew a deep breath. Only a moment later the giant wave rose and fell. Not a mile away. Maybe not half that distance.”
“How can that be possible?” Tae Kim asked. “That close, your boat surely would have been caught in the wave.”
Staring at the ground, Mi-Suk clenched her jaw. “We saw what we saw, and that was a giant wave rising high above the tallest buildings in the great cities, and crashing down on our home. No one …” She sniffed and took a deep breath, then squared her shoulders and looked at Seung and Tae. “There were no survivors. All we could do was sit in the water and watch the island die. Three fishing boats carrying the twenty four of us are what’s left of Ulleung.”
“I’m sorry for asking you to relive that horror,” Seung said.
“We will relive that horror for many days to come,” the other woman said. “But if I may offer this in exchange for your kindness, and that it may save your beautiful home, I do it gladly.”
Seung felt the tug in the pit of her stomach again, urging her toward some distant frozen land she’d rather not visit, but knew she must. “Kyu Village is your home for as long as you wish it. Please extend our condolences to the rest of your people.”
Lips still pressed together, Mi-Suk responded with another precise bow.
“She’s a strong one,” Tae said, when the woman was out of earshot. “She grieves in silence while comforting those who grieve openly. If there are any half as tough as her, Kyu will be all the better for it.”
Seung was only half listening as her mind played through what the woman had said: giant waves washing over islands, a huge presence that felt like it was the size of the ocean, or was the ocean itself. She felt the tug in the pit of her stomach grow stronger, and she looked to the northeast.
“You see something I don’t?” Tae asked.
“No … but yes.” Seung unconsciously placed a hand to her stomach. “Whatever answers there are to this, they’re that way.”
“And you know this how?”
She shook her head. “I just know.”
“Of course.” Tae stared in the same direction as Seung. “Since we were kids, I learned not to ignore your intuition. Is this one of those times?”
When she nodded, he gave her a sidelong glance. “Sometimes I think you listen to the trees, the ground, or even the air, Seung. You sure you’re even human?”
Though the comment was meant in jest, Seung felt a stab of uncertainty at the question. She thought about the times she’d tried to tell her friends or older family members of the things she could feel, how she could hear the trees speaking to each other, and feel the mood of the forest. “Such a fanciful imagination, you have,” was the usual response.
“I don’t know,” Seung answered before she caught herself and joined in with Tae’s quiet laughter.
“Sometimes I think you’re serious when you talk like that, my friend.” He looked over his shoulder at the assembly, where the speaker had stepped down and the crowd was beginning to disburse. “Looks like talk is over. Come. There’s much work to be done in case this mysterious tsunami comes our way.”
“You must do it without me,” Seung replied, looking to the northeast again. “I have to…”
Have to what? Chase after an hallucination? A nervous feeling in my stomach?
Tae frowned at her. “That feeling you have?” He shook his head. “Intuition or not, Seung. How is it possible you know this? And what could you do about it alone? Our best action would be to ensure we’re on high ground and prepare for the potential flood.”
“You’ve known me my whole life, my friend,” Seung said. “I can’t explain how I know this, or even how I’ll deal with it, but I know that remaining here is not the right thing for me.” She faced her best friend and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Kyu looks to you, Tae Kim. Do your part as I do mine.”
Tae nodded past her. “You would do your part there? In some distant place you’ve never been?”
“I would,” Seung replied. “I can say no more than to ask you to trust me.”
He shook his head, but pulled her into a tight hug. “If you were anyone else, I would’ve written you off long ago.”
“But I’m not,” Seung replied, fighting back the images in her mind to fully share this moment with her dearest friend. This moment which could well be their last, for she had no doubts this journey would be filled with danger.
“You go to pack immediately, then? Will you at least wait till tomorrow, or are you to set off now?” He sighed at Seung’s guilty grin. “Of course you wouldn’t wait till tomorrow.” He wrapped her in another hug, then kissed her on the cheek. “Be well and be safe. And don’t make me come looking for you.”
“Thank you, dear Tae. And you as well.”
She took a side trail toward her home, feeling Tae Kim’s eyes on her back. She stepped around the side of a house and leaned against the wall. The pulling in her stomach was stronger than ever, as though confirming she’d made the right choice. “But where am I going?” she thought aloud. The pull inside her once again made her look to the northeast. Something was waiting for her, and she doubted she’d like what she found. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves.
“Very well.”