The High-Tailing Days at Wolho Fortress

The temple at Wolho Fortress was awash in flickering torchlight, golden fire reflecting off weathered stone and woven banners. Outside, clouds slid across the face of the moon, casting long, drifting shadows across the courtyard, where watchers stood in hushed reverence. But within the sacred hall, the air pulsed with tightly wound anticipation.

It had taken only a few hours of intense deliberation for the Kim family to give their approval, thanks in no small part to Yang Seok Jin's steady counsel and Cho Yeon's unflinching endorsement. And now, in the deepest courtyard of the temple, Hong Se Ra knelt alone at the very center of the sanctified ground, her palms pressed against her lap, the compass relic resting just before her, faintly glowing with latent yang energy.

Around her, pregnant women from the capital and fortress sat in a wider circle, hands joined, some eyes closed in prayer, others fixed on the compass. And encircling them all, forming the ritual's final ring, stood the old shaman and eight Cheonbugwan mages - all casters, chosen for the strength in tansu.

The room was utterly silent - until the old shaman's voice broke the stillness.

"Begin."

The mages raised their arms, incanting in unison, their voices weaving a resonant hum that seemed to bend the very air. The salt lines and talismans etched onto the floor sparked faintly with light. From the center, Se Ra pricked her finger and pressed it to the relic, a single drop of blood sinking into the compass's dial like ink into parchment.

Yi Na stood at the rear of the courtyard along with the medics, Cho Yeon and Na Joo Ah, her eyes on Se Ra. There was a grace in the young woman's stillness - not from passivity, but conviction. She had chosen this, fully informed of the danger. Even now, with the weight of so many lives pressing on her shoulders, Se Ra knelt with a calm that stirred something deep in Yi Na's chest.

The chanting deepened. Threads of smoke from sandalwood and mugwort filled the space, circling upward like pale spirits. Then, the compass relic began to glow, not from within, but as if touched by some great invisible force. Its needle spun sharply, once, then again - and the circle pulsed.

The pregnant women gasped as visible streams of spiritual mist drifted from their bellies and chests with faint cries - wisps of ancient, lingering sorrow. The Grieving Womb Curse was not subtle; it did not slip away quietly. The air turned cold, and for a moment, the torchlight seemed to dim.

Then the relic flared.

Ghosts, no longer unseen, began to form - not full bodies, but twisted shadows with flickering eyes and mouths opened in soundless screams. They hovered at the edge of the women's circle, straining - but unable to cross the glowing boundary drawn by the mages' chants.

The compass relic spun again - and its light expanded, reaching for the ghosts.

Yi Na's breath caught as the spirits shrieked and recoiled, drawn inexorably toward the compass's core. Some resisted, clawing at the air, but the combined energy of the mages and the purity of the blood sacrifice pulled them inward. The relic brightened, burning gold now, casting the ghost-shadows in stark relief.

One by one, the spirits were pulled in. Not exorcised - dissipated.

The women in the inner circle began to breathe easier, color returning to their cheeks. And in the very center, Hong Se Ra remained still, her lips moving in quiet prayer.

When the last spirit vanished, the relic stilled. The light dimmed. And the room fell into a deafening silence, broken only by the soft sobs of the healed.

The ritual was done.

***************

The sun rose over Wolho Fortress, casting a pale amber light through the mist that clung stubbornly to the stone walls. The fortress, which had held its breath through the long ritual night, now exhaled slowly. Word spread like firelight across the city - the ritual had succeeded. No more cries of pain echoed through the temple halls, no new mothers succumbed to the invisible sickness. For the first time in weeks, the fortress felt like it could breathe again.

The Cheonbugwan mages remained at the temple for two more days, performing calming rites and strengthening the protective charms around the city. Physicians checked on every woman who had taken part in the ritual, reporting peaceful dreams and a return to appetite, a sure sign of recovery.

Yi Na herself walked the halls of the temple, checking charts, monitoring pulses, and sitting with patients as they stirred from their troubled sleep. Hong Sera, though weak from the ritual, had stabilized quickly. Her unborn child's heartbeat had returned to a strong, steady rhythm.

The relief in the capital was palpable, and winter slowly seeped in.

Yi Na stood at the edge of the rear courtyard, wrapped in a thick robe, her hands folded beneath her sleeves. Her breath came in slow clouds.

She didn't hear Seo Yul approach-she never really did-but the scent of pine and calming herbs that clung to him always gave him away.

"You're up early," he said softly. His voice was warm, and its quietness felt like a blanket pulled gently over her shoulders.

Yi Na turned toward him and offered a faint smile. "I couldn't sleep."

Seo Yul studied her for a moment. "Nightmares?"

She shook her head. "Memories."

They walked slowly toward the old plum tree near the stone wall, its bare limbs casting spindled shadows on the frozen ground. He sat first and patted the space beside him. She joined him without hesitation.

They sat in silence for a while. Yi Na's eyes were distant, focused on nothing. Seo Yul waited, knowing better than to press.

Eventually, she said, "Do you think it was worth it?"

"You mean the ritual?"

She nodded.

"I think... yes. Because you believed it would be."

She looked at him, brow drawn. "You always say things like that."

"Because they're true."

A breathless laugh escaped her lips, almost too soft to hear. Then she leaned her shoulder into his. "You never try to make things lighter."

"No." His voice was gentle. "I just try to make them bearable."

That silenced her. He reached for her hand and held it gently. "You have done so well, carrying the weight of everyone's expectations. Now that the storm is over, let someone carry you too."

She looked at him then, truly looked-at the steadiness in his gaze, the way his presence never demanded but always offered.

"I think," she said slowly, "I'm starting to understand what that means."

For a long moment, all that existed was the sound of the wind rustling through pine needles and the sharp hush of winter settling in.

"I have to be in the library today," she said. "There are scrolls on the curse I want to copy. Before the shaman has to return to his dwelling. The knowledge in those scrolls have to be preserved."

Seo Yul nodded but didn't move away. "And after that?"

Yi Na shrugged, "Probably check the women again. Some of them can be discharged but the temple is considering hosting them until they give birth and that will take some work."

"And after that?"

She turned her face toward him, eyes curious.

"I'll be returning to Daeho," he said. "There's something I want to ask."

She arched a brow.

"I spoke with His Majesty, and the Council. We're thinking of establishing a new wing at Jeongjingak for healer mages," he explained. "Not just spellcasters, but those interested in integrating medicine with magic. I want you to come and teach a course. Six months. You'd have your own quarters, your own schedule. And then you can return to Wolho, or go wherever your path leads you."

Yi Na's breath caught. "You want me to teach?"

"A lot of female mages of noble lineage are reluctant to train at Jeongjingak because we teach magic and attack. They rather favor relic magic like Jinyowon or healer arts like Heo Yun Ok. " he said. "And I want to see you there. You are a medic and specialize in female medicine, I want people to learn from the best."

She looked down at their hands, fingers barely touching. She turned hers upward and laced them together.

"You should have asked me sooner," she murmured.

"I was waiting for the right moment."

She smiled. "There's no such thing."

He leaned in slowly. She didn't pull away. Their kiss was quiet-no fire, no urgency. Just the slow unfolding of a promise that had taken root in chaos and grown in silence.

When they finally pulled apart, she rested her head on his shoulder, eyes closing.

"I'll go with you," she said. "But only if I'm still allowed to yell at you, Lord Seo Yul."

Seo Yul chuckled. "Deal."

******************

With the help of two young maids, Yi Na set up in the study chamber beside the temple's inner sanctum. There, by soft lamplight, she began to transcribe the faded script, carefully preserving every character, leaving space for any drawings to be copied later. The pages were worn and delicate, the ink feathered at the edges, but her hand was steady. She worked in silence, the only sounds the soft scratching of her brush and the occasional rustle of robes when the maids brought more paper.

Hours passed.

Finally, with aching fingers and heavy lids, she stacked the copies and sealed them in three wooden boxes. One she handed to a maid to be given to the young Cheonbugwan mage who had been sent for, another to a temple servant for the nunnery's archives. The last, she kept with her.

She poured herself a small cup of tea and sat down in the quiet. Her eyes scanned her neat handwriting, the familiar strokes bringing comfort - until they didn't.

Her breath caught.

Her finger hovered over a line she had just written. Then another.

Quiet at birth. Unnaturally still. Spiritual sensitivity between ages two and five. Clinginess to strong yang energy. Inability to form a danjeon.

Yi Na stared.

The descriptions; they weren't just words, they were Dal Mi.

The memory came fast and sharp from her conversations with Cho Yeong and Yun Ok: Dal Mi's silent birth, how she only slept in Seo Yul's arms, how mischievous she was, how she had once pointed at places and said, in a whisper, "She's crying again."

Yi Na stood slowly, her tea forgotten. The world around her was suddenly too quiet.

She remembered the old shaman's words from weeks ago, grave and deliberate:

"For mage mothers protected by a strong core energy - the danjeon - the pregnancy itself passes without obvious illness. However, the child is born carrying a latent soul: a ghostly essence from a restless spirit seeking rebirth."

She had asked, trembling, "What does that look like after birth?"

The shaman had responded, "It is difficult to diagnose. These children, called Yin-born or Eumdongi, are unnaturally still at birth. Between two and five, they may exhibit extreme misbehavior and spiritual sensitivity. They cling to men with strong yang energy to balance their overflowing yin. If the yang source is weak, they may drain him."

Cho Yeon had asked then, "What happens if no one notices?"

"They burn out," the shaman had said simply. "Or become something else. If they are mages though, they are safe."

Yi Na's hands were shaking. She looked around the study, but it felt foreign now - too far from Seo Yul, too far from Daeho, too far from answers.

"Before they turn five, the ghost's soul integrates with the child's essence, creating an imbalance - an overflow of yin energy that throws their spiritual equilibrium into chaos. As such they start to sleep more and are even more chaotic. Suddenly, they fall into a long sleep after which the two souls fully integrate, creating a powerful hybrid.

"Such children are feared, misunderstood. Some noble families seek them out to adopt them for their rare spiritual gifts, others to control their dangerous power. The integration of two souls creates a hybrid being - both cursed and gifted."

Dal Mi was four.

Yi Na rose to her feet, her heart pounding like a war drum. There was no more time.

She needed to see Seo Yul, they need to return to Daeho.

The storm was far from over.

A/N: promises made, promises kept! 😌 How was it? Spicy right? My brain let out a huge sigh after this one. Anyways, I breathe better with your comments 😉 Live and Love 💕💕💕