Tempestuous Days in the Mountains

The next few days were filled with restless movement across Daeho. Dang Gu had immediately dispatched his best informants, men and women who had once prided themselves on never losing a trail. They combed the markets and the riverbanks, the shadowed streets by night, and even questioned those who worked the ferry routes. Yet every lead fell apart into smoke. The name of a young shaman was whispered, but no one could tell where she lived, nor had anyone seen her in recent years.

When Dang Gu returned to Jeongjingak with nothing but frustration weighing on his broad shoulders, Cho Yeon was already waiting in the courtyard, her arms folded tight across her chest. Her eyes softened at the sight of him, but her words were sharp.

“So even Songrim’s best eyes cannot find her?” she asked.

Dang Gu shook his head. “She’s hidden too deeply. Whoever guards her covers her with care. It feels deliberate.”

It was then that Cho Yeong turned to her mother. Jin Ho Gyeong, matriarch of Jinyowon, had been silent until now, seated beneath the shade of a mulberry tree with the gravity of someone who weighed the cost of every word. At her daughter’s look, she rose slowly, her black and gold robes whispering across the stone floor.

“I did not want to involve Jinyowon in this matter,” she said, her voice cool and measured. “But you leave me no choice.”

She raised her hand, and with a flick of her wrist, an attendant brought forward a long lacquered case. When opened, it revealed the Simjido, the spirit map that Jang Uk and Cho Yeong found months ago. Lines and characters glowed faintly upon its surface as if alive, shifting like a river.

“This will find her,” Ho Gyeong continued, her gaze sweeping across the group. “But it will not answer to just anyone. Only the one with a spirit aligned to its resonance will be able to read the map.”

Seo Yul stepped forward before anyone else could. He did not speak — he didn’t need to. When Cho Yeong and Jang Uk had found the map, it had not opened for them; Seo Yul was their best option. When his hands brushed the edges of the map, the shifting symbols stilled, then flared with a faint silver light. The map accepted him.

“The Daeho mountains,” Yul murmured, tracing the glowing lines. “Deep within. It will take nine days’ journey if the map is true.”

Cho Yeong’s lips curved in something between relief and worry. “Then you must go. Yul ah, take Yi Na and Dal Mi. And us—” Her gaze shifted to Jang Uk, who was standing apart, silent but watchful. “—we’ll guard them. I fear what lies ahead.”

Uk gave the barest of nods, though his hand drifted instinctively toward his sword hilt.

And so it was decided.

---

The journey began under heavy skies. On the first day, mist curled across the river as their boat cut silently through the water. Dal Mi sat between Yul and Yi Na, her little hands clasped tightly together in her lap as if she knew their journey was important. The further they went, the more restless she became. The spirit within her stirred, like an ember unwilling to die out.

At night, by the campfire, Yul studied Simjido while Uk stood guard. The map’s glowing trails would dim with each passing hour, reappearing only when Yul’s energy touched them again.

By the third day, obstacles revealed themselves. Bandits emerged from the forest — not ordinary ones, but men whose movements were jerky and unnatural, their eyes clouded white as though under a spell. Yi Na was the first to notice the talismans sewn crudely into their garments.

Jang Uk fought them with ruthless precision, his sword flashing arcs of blue light. But when one lunged toward Dal Mi, it was she herself who raised her hand, and for a brief instant, her eyes flared with a flicker of unnatural flame. The bandit crumpled mid-stride, lifeless.

The little girl froze, horrified, but Cho Yeong steadied her trembling shoulders, having experienced a similar horror when she killed Jang Uk all those years ago. “It wasn’t you,” she whispered. “It was the thing within you. Hold fast, Dal Mi. Do not let it use you.”

On the fifth day, storms forced them to seek shelter in a mountain shrine. The winds howled as if the heavens themselves raged against their passage. Inside, faded murals depicted battles long past — armies crushed under celestial fire, a woman in white with her eyes blindfolded, standing at the edge of the chaos and a gentleman with an ice stone beside her. Dal Mi stared at the mural until Uk pulled her away. 

Yi Na tended the fire with her usual patience, muttering, “The mountain does not want us here.”

By the seventh day, the forest itself turned hostile. Paths twisted back upon themselves. Familiar trees reappeared though they had walked in circles for hours. Their rations began to dwindle, and Yi Na fell ill from drinking water drawn from a stream that soured overnight.

“A confusion array,” Yul said grimly. “Old magic. It will not break easily.”

Cho Yeong shook her head sadly, “It’s not the forest. It’s deliberate. She doesn’t want to be found.”

Uk’s hand tightened around his sword. “Then we break through. Stay behind me,” Uk ordered.

It was easier said than done. The deeper they pressed into the mountains, the stronger the illusions became. Cho Yeong heard voices calling her name, Yi Na saw shadows of her past, faces of people long dead. Even Yul, whose mind was as disciplined as steel, faltered once, reaching for a figure that dissolved into mist.

But Uk never wavered. His spirit burned brighter than the shadows dared. He struck down memory wraiths that slithered out of the fog — twisted creatures born of stolen recollections. Their whispers clawed at his mind, reminding him of every loss he had endured, of Naksu, of the price of his power. Yet he stood firm, cutting through them until the array collapsed on the morning of the ninth day.

What remained was silence.

And then, at last, they saw it — a small mountain house, weathered and pale, with prayer flags fluttering faintly in the cold wind. Built of pale wood that seemed untouched by time. The windows were shuttered, the air still.

A woman sat outside upon the porch. She wore white from head to toe, her eyes covered by a strip of cloth. Her hands rested in her lap as though she had been waiting for them.

She did not rise as they approached. She simply tilted her head as if she had been waiting for them all along.

Dal Mi’s breath caught in her throat, growing unnaturally still in Cho Yeong's arms. The moment her gaze fell upon the blindfolded woman, something inside her roared awake. Her body trembled violently, her eyes glowing with the blue flame mark of Hwanhon. The dormant spirit surged like a storm was finally released.

“Jang UK, Seo Yul…” Yeong whispered, her voice breaking. “It’s… it’s happening.”

The blindfolded woman smiled faintly, her voice carrying like wind through the trees. “My child, you have come.”

A/N: DUNDUNDUN!!! 😂😂😂Short chapter but don't worry, I'm positive I'll finish things up soon and not keep everyone in suspense. As always, comments help me. Live and Love 💕💕💕