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Lina

It calls to me, this skeletal throne, as I mount the stairs toward it, bone dais cold underneath my feet and my white nightdress rippling in a phantom wind. I am only just barely aware of the Talons, my soul-stitched, and my sister waiting for me below, eyes wide, nervous energy thrumming in the air. Such energy pales in comparison to the magnetism of this throne as it draws me forth.

Slowly, with trepidation, I approach it. The crown rises into the air, swirling above as the throne of Jeoseung beckons me toward it, as if it has been waiting for me for a very, very long time.

With difficulty, I pause, closing my hand around the three truths. A voice, to speak for my people. A bag of barley, to remember my origins, all that has made me myself. A heart, to care—deeply, deathlessly. I hold these truths tight to my chest.

When I take this throne, I take power. Power that I no longer trust myself to have.

But the Prophecy is gone, and here in Jeoseung, I am Shin Lina.

I am a sister. A wife. A warrior. A survivor, freed from the ruins, with a future ahead of her. With a healing mind and a healing heart, who knows who she is—who has learned from her thousands of mistakes, who—after the horrors she has endured—has changed so thoroughly that she trusts herself to take this, to save them all.

Fingers tight around the truths, I turn around and slowly lower myself onto the throne of Jeoseung, my eyes locked on Rui’s silver ones, on the red thread spiraling between us.

And as I touch the carved bone seat, it is as if the entire realm shakes and trembles—yet not in violence. I feel this realm, feel it stretch and yawn, awakening beneath my fingertips, blinking sleepily, contentedly like a cat waking from a slumber in the sun. I feel it come to life, and a rush of power floods through me—power that is not fast and burning as it was with the Prophecy, but gentle, warm rather than scalding, soothing rather than sharp and tearing.

This power…it is the comfort and security of a hot cup of tea during a storm, the familiarity of an old, worn blanket wrapped around my shoulders. It is slow and steady—not overwhelming, but filling , filling some part of me that did not know it was empty, waiting to be satisfied. It is a kind power, one that does not seek to hurt despite all death entails, but seeks to relieve.

Home , I think. I feel like I am…home .

This warmth, it sparkles through my veins, and my eyes widen as my skin begins to glow, emitting an aura of shimmering silver—and I realize that it is the exact color of Rui’s eyes, with flecks of blue sparkling throughout.

Jeoseung’s power lifts me gently from the throne, spinning me around delicately underneath the still-hovering crown. I watch in amazement as my plain nightdress becomes a familiar lavender hanbok with delicate, falling cherry blossoms and as my long, loose hair is plaited away from my face. Light, lilac slippers adorn my feet and the three golden truths spin up from my hand. A golden chain, materializing from nothingness, connects all three truths before settling around my neck. I close my eyes as the crown fits onto my head, fits as if it was made for me, nestling atop my dark hair.

Rui’s love and pride soar through the red thread as I am once again lowered onto the throne. With a small smile, he climbs the dais and kneels before me. “Goddess,” he murmurs, and I suppose it must be true—with Yeomra gone and this throne claimed, I am this realm’s deity.

I have been…forged.

The Prophecy was wrong about one thing. I was never meant to be the Goddess of Wrath.

No. All this time, I have been meant to become the Goddess of Death.

Smiling gently, I guide Rui to his feet. Jeoseung listens attentively for my first command. Words are not necessary—I tell this realm, quietly, what must be done…just as that future version of myself told me within the mind.

The binding. The Imugi must be brought forth to this realm, not in the way that they possess the capability to visit every so often by the spilling of their blood and the invoking of Yeomra’s name…but through true death, inescapable.

And here, I tell Jeoseung, the realm that is as much a part of me as I am it, they can make their homes in the distant mountains, near the sparkling purple sea that I sense exists beyond the jade and quartz peaks.

Give them peace.

I am weary of vengeance.

Jeoseung sighs in happy agreement, and I feel it as it is done: the realm stretching its fingers upward, curling around the golden dragons, freezing them as they descend upon the living below. Death is swift, an unfurling of shadowy fingers revealing deep gouges spilling shadow. Life, slipping down to this realm, pulled by Jeoseung’s fingers.

Life . It comes to me then, a gentle whisper in my ear, a reminder of words I’ve heard before.

“I cannot reverse the effects of death. I abandoned Jeoseung long ago, and as such, my connection to it has slipped,” Yeomra had said—and would a god truly reveal something like that for no reason at all?

My connection to this realm is strong, as strong as my love for Eunbi, for the Talons, for all of those I’ve loved and lost. And I am…I am a goddess, glowing silver, ruler of the underworld. There is very little, I realize, that I cannot do when it comes to death—once an inescapable sentence.

Releasing Rui’s hand, I stand from the throne and slowly descend the stairs toward Eunbi—whose eyes are so wide in her small face as she stands next to Sang and the twins. “Lili,” she breathes, “you’re glowing !”

I smile, and it is a soft thing, easy and loose on my lips. It has been so many years since I could smile like this—gentle, without the edge of stress, of worry. I lean down before her, searching her eager face. Eight years old.

If she was old enough to be taken from the world above in a cruel twist of fate, she is old enough to decide what comes next.

Eunbi , I sign, although I know she cannot read the delicate movements of my fingers. Sang, with a small nod of understanding, quietly translates for her. I can give you something, little sister, if you want it.

Her nose scrunches in confusion. “A present?” she asks.

Yes. I could give you more years. I see them now, the fingers of death, curled around Eunbi’s neck—the realm’s hold on her. It would not be hard, I think, to pry them away. A way back to the world above. You could live, little sister, if you wanted to.

Chara makes a small noise, hand flying to her chest, eyes shining. Chryse wraps an arm around her twin and smiles. I look to them, to Yoonho, to Sang. This gift, it could be yours as well , I tell them. Your lives were taken from you. Stolen. I can give them back.

“Lina,” Yoonho says, voice thick. “I…”

Rui makes his way down the dais and stands at my back. I lean into him, savoring his closeness. It is your decision , I say. All of you. But it can be done. Only say the word.

“But—could you come with us?” Eunbi asks, voice small.

I shake my head as Rui’s hand slips around my waist. I am tied to this realm now , I reply, with Sang hoarsely translating for me. But you do not have to be. I will release you.

As I will the others. Already, Jeoseung is listening to me.

So many died in this war.

So many who did not deserve to.

Children. Soldiers. Mothers. Fathers. Wives. Husbands. Daughters. Sons.

The realm is loosening its grip on them, slowly, hesitantly. If they desire to stay, so they may—but those who feel a sudden lightness, a sudden freedom, will be released. I sense the fingers of Jeoseung as if they are my own, can move them as if they are my own. Slackening my hold over hundreds of necks, I peer into Eunbi’s eyes, uncertain if she too wishes to leave.

Her time on Iseung was rife with danger. Pain. Tragedy. It could be so again. I will have no power to protect her if she leaves this place, and all my life, I was so focused on shielding her from every horror. Yet this—this is Eunbi’s choice, and hers alone. An adventure could await her. Adventure and love. She will never age past eight here, never grow in her own skin, never become the woman I know she is destined to be: a brave, kind woman with a hunger for learning, with an insatiable curiosity.

Eunbi hesitates, nibbling on a fingernail. “I think… I think… Is it… Would you…”

I see the answer in her warm brown eyes, desire and excitement blooming in their depths. The guilt she feels at leaving me behind. I smile and kiss her forehead, loosening the fingers around her neck, little by little.

I know , I tell her, blinking back tears. Eomma and Appa will come with you. I feel them here, their steadfast presence somewhere in the village we left behind—and I do not want them to see me like this, a goddess, yet. Rather, I want them to remember me how I was: a small, scrawny girl who was terrified of snakes. I’m not yet ready for them to see the path that led me here. Live a good life, Eunbi. Keep away from Sunpo. You will have to make your own fortunes.

But to be alive, isn’t that a fortune in itself?

“They will be cared for,” Sang says quietly, meeting my eyes.

And perhaps it was selfish of me, to hope that the Talons would stay here. Rui kisses the top of my head as he senses my hint of disappointment, but I am careful to conceal it from the Talons as I nod.

No halji , I sign. No crime. Please, Sang. Keep her away from all of that. I am trusting you with this.

“I know, L,” he says, throat working. “You’re… You’re giving us another chance. I won’t fail this time. We’ll keep her safe.”

“Always,” Chara says, face crumpling as she embraces me once more.

“Always,” her twin echoes, tears trekking down her cheeks.

Yoonho claps my shoulder. “Always,” he says gruffly, mouth tight with emotion.

The rest of you, too , I add and look steadily at Yoonho. Live a good life, an honest life. I do not want more unnecessary bloodshed on Sunpo’s streets. I do not want to hear tell that you have resumed your old ways. If you do, trust that I will know. And that I will be…disappointed.

He nods, exhaling heavily. There is guilt in his eyes, and I think that he understands the role he played in all of this. Fondness for him still fills my heart; I do not blame him for the turns my life took, but I will not be pleased if he finds another desperate orphan to wield as a weapon, no matter how willing they may seem. Let my story be a warning. “Yes,” Yoonho whispers. “I understand.”

Live your lives well. For me.

“We love you,” Chryse whispers as the Talons embrace me, and gods, if this is not everything I have ever wanted. Tears spill down my cheeks as they hold tight. As Eunbi squeezes herself into the hug, Chryse smiles down at her. “We’ll do right for her, Lina.”

“And we’ll see you again,” Sang whispers. “We’ll be back for you, L.”

The embrace breaks, and I take one final look at the Talons—together, faces shining, whole and unbroken. Sang. Chara. Yoonho. Chryse.

I love you , I sign, holding each of their gazes, salt slipping past my lips as I smile. Now, go. Live.

And as the fingers of death relinquish their hold on them, they do.

The Talons vanish in a shower of dark purple sparks, brilliant and beautiful.

Long live the Talons , I think, a bittersweet ache in my chest. Long live the damned .

Eunbi, still here, begins to cry. “I’ll miss you,” she whispers, and I scoop her up as I used to when she was a child. “I love you so much, Lili. Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

I kiss her temple, squeezing her close, knowing that the kiss says more than words ever could. As she smiles tearily up at me, I coax one of the jade garakji from my fingers and slip it onto Eunbi’s thumb—the only finger it currently fits.

She will walk the realm above, and I the realm below.

Yet we will always be connected, she and I.

Eunbi’s smile grows and grows as death leaves her, fingers falling away from her neck. “I love you, Lili,” she whispers before she vanishes completely.

I cannot help it—a sob escapes my lips, and Rui gathers me to him. “Little thief,” he says hoarsely, pressing me close. Shaking hard, I draw back only slightly, enough for me to be able to sign the words I selfishly wish I would not. If Rui leaves me…

If you want to go , I say, but Rui shakes his head immediately, clasping his hands over mine.

“Never,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to mine. “Do not ever ask it of me again. I love you, Lina. I want this. I want you . And if being dead is what it takes…” Rui cocks his head, and there it is—his old, rakish smile, that telltale glint of mischief in his eyes. “I will welcome it with open arms, little thief.”

Emotion swells up within me, and I pull him closer, kissing him as the wrongfully dead leave Jeoseung with hope in their hearts. His lips are soft and gentle against mine, his hands covetous as one slips to my waist, the other to the side of my face.

“How is it that we’re dead, yet my heart still beats for you?” he whispers against me.

Love shudders throughout my body, bright and brilliant and utterly overwhelming. Rui, my Rui, is here with me—Rui, with his dancing silver eyes and crooked smile, as if he has never been touched by war or heartbreak. With his mischievous smirk, he looks just as he did on the Sunpo rooftop so long ago, when he appeared from a shadowed corridor and caught a couple of sugar-glistening pastries in his elegant hands.

I love you , I sign, and his eyes shine like all the stars in the sky. Rui takes my hand in his, pressing his lips to the silver ring.

“I love you, too,” he murmurs. “Are you ready for this, little thief?” There is no skepticism in his tone—only warm curiosity. Slowly, I look to the throne.

Death does not die, Shin Lina, and neither will you.

To become Death herself… Perhaps Yoonho somehow sensed my destiny, all those years ago.

For so long, I prayed to the gods. They never answered me, never acknowledged the girl who still believed. I wept for them. I screamed for them. Never did they respond.

But now, the girl who still believed holds goddesshood within her. She glows, a radiant silver, before her throne. Hand drifting to the truths around my neck, I swear a silent vow—I will be everything I wanted them to be. Kind, and just, and attentive. I’m not so naive as to think that power like this comes without a cost, but I have been through enough to know now, who I am. Not power-hungry, not vengeful. I will not lose myself again; I will end this war.

My name is Shin Lina.

And I will triumph.