Chapter Text
Healer of the Solstice
Cover art by @jamxart
First Arc: Daegu
Chapter 1: "Little Snow"
The river sparkled from where he stood, just like thousands of glimmering stars bathing in the water. Its waves were calm as it had always been: fishes swimming along the current in all sizes and colors; leaves falling from branches and floating on the surface, and stones showing their marvels as they shone like gems under the crystal clear wetness.
Pulling the bucket out of the water, Jimin turned around and walked along the pathway lined by tall trees. The woods had been his safe haven ever since he could remember. He grew up confined within its green walls, the canopies of which sheltering him from the scorching heat of the sun. But most of all, he grew up inside the very heart of this majestic place: the Eiron, one of the Seven Great Temples of Healing.
Every morning, he journeyed towards the riverbank to fetch fresh water for the sick. The High Priestess had given him this job, as well as a few other chores like scrubbing the floor and changing the sheets of the sickbed. Even though he found the tasks tedious, not once had he complained. He knew the importance of doing these minor tasks, just like when the High Priestess praised him for being diligent, saying that “even the smallest things can save lives.”
He was roused, however, because today, he would be accompanying the High Priestess and the other healers in the Hall of Light. It was a place dedicated for the gravest illnesses; those which were incurable and put under the mercy of the healing goddess, Eira.
Ironic, Jimin thought. It was supposed to be a sad place, but whenever he stepped inside the room, he could feel a sense of calm and repose within its walls. People were weak and dying, but they had faint, happy smiles in their faces as if their terrible sickness wasn’t bearing them down. During those times, Jimin was in his happiest – seeing them submit their lives willfully to the goddess in hope not for healing itself, but for eternal peace after they died.
The goddess, Eira, was also known to accompany the sick in the afterlife, taking the form of a large vessel made of gold and silver, sailing along the River of Life like a weightless feather towards Eon, the Land of the Hereafter.
During those times, Jimin was in his happiest. And during those times, he was in his saddest.
When he reached the tall white gate of the temple, his dark brown eyes landed on the figure of an old woman standing in front of the temple. She was wearing a long white dress with gilded swirly patterns embroidered on the sleeves, a gold headdress resting atop her head to signify her position, and a blue crystal, the Heart of Eira, was hanging loosely around her neck.
The old woman smiled as Jimin approached. “We’re waiting for you, Little Snow.”
Jimin couldn’t help but smile at the endearing name. His hair was a pale color of silver, too ashen to be called white, and too light to be of gray hue. Despite the complexity of his hair color, the High Priestess had still opted to call him “Little Snow” even if Jimin argued that his hair wasn’t the color of snow when he was still a little boy.
“I’m sorry for making you wait long, High Priestess,” Jimin apologized with a bow of his head, addressing the other priestesses as well standing behind her.
The softest of chuckles escaped past the old woman’s lips, the smile radiating towards her dark eyes as deep lines of wisdom graced her features. “We haven’t waited long, Little Snow.” She placed a slightly trembling hand on Jimin’s head. “I just took the pleasure of watching you work from afar. I haven’t seen you for a week now.”
The High Priestess was praying in the Chamber of Eira, locking herself for a week every two months to appease the goddess and seek for help. After a week of prayer, the High Priestess would visit the Hall of Light to bless the sick with the goddess’s mercy. And for three years now, after his twentieth summer, Jimin had been accompanying her with the ceremony.
He wasn’t allowed inside the Hall of Light when he was still a boy; but a feisty one he was. He would occasionally peek inside through the double doors and every time he did, Yongwon would be there, the bald, bulky man who lived in a shack nearby, both of them serving the goddess’s temple unconditionally.
Jimin was frightened of him before, and he still was to some extent, with the man’s perpetual scowl and wide physique that could scare even the wildest boar in the woods. He would shut him out of the way, slamming the door close every time Jimin would peek inside the hall. He used to sulk because of it, complaining to the High Priestess about the man’s mean treatment, but the old woman would just laugh and pat his head.
“Yongwon’s a tough nut, yes, but he’s a good man, Little Snow,” she would say. “His wife died inside the white walls of the Hall of Life, and yet he still continued to serve the goddess. Some people lose their faith when faced with great loss. But Yongwon didn’t. He let Eira take care of his wife until her very last breath and devoted himself in serving the goddess until the day he meets his beloved.”
Jimin didn’t understand that time, his mind as young as the bud of a flower sprouting amidst the forest ground. But as he grew older, as he saw more and more of the world, of joy, hope and despair, Jimin finally understood Yongwon, even if just a little.
It was a rare occasion for Jimin – to enter the Hall of Light. The High Priestess had forbidden him to enter on his own, least of all touch any of the sick. If he’d been lucky, one of the priestesses would allow him to stand and observe behind her, or make him grind the herb that was to be used for treating infected wounds. The High Priestess gave him permission to study all the medical books in their library, sometimes having the old woman teach him herself. He had read hundreds of books, over and over again as he grew up; mastered theories about wound healing and treatment, but he wasn’t allowed to apply his knowledge on an actual person. Never. The old woman had been strict regarding that matter.
“You can’t practice healing other people right now, Little Snow,” the old woman uttered softly to a sulking twelve-year-old Jimin.
“But why?” Jimin stomped his foot once on the ground, defiance apparent in his dark brown eyes. “I know how to make a mangroot juice! The book said it would help with vomiting!”
“I know. I know.” The old woman bent lower to pat his head. “You’re a special one, and soon, you’ll be able to heal any kind of wound that is known to man. When the time comes, I will have you leave the temple and explore the world on your own.”
Jimin’s eyes widened at the horrible thought. “But…” he bowed his head “…I don’t want to leave.” He was scared. He didn’t know what was out there. Would other people be good to him? Would he be able to find home aside from the one that was offered to him by this abode?
There was a knowing and gentle smile on the old woman’s lips. “You will have to leave someday, Little Snow. This place doesn’t deserve to hold someone as precious as you. You’re meant for something greater. Once the war is over, I will tell you what you want to know.”
Jimin didn’t understand even until now. But things changed after the High Priestess told him that. He was allowed to enter the Hall of Light, provided that he was accompanied by the old woman herself or another priestess. Every time his feet hit the wooden floor and a look of sympathy admixed with sadness dawned on his features, the old woman would say, “Don’t touch anyone.”
Up until now, the High Priestess had been firm on that condition. Thus never, not even a slight brush, had he touched a single soul inside the Hall of Light.
Jimin was standing behind Priestess Ji Yeon, watching as the middle-aged lady applied a salve on a person’s skin. The man was weak, with those painful-looking wounds that kept on appearing on his body for about two weeks now.
Without being told, Jimin automatically went towards the end table and grabbed a mortar and pestle. He put a few leaves inside the stone bowl and poured a small amount of water, grinding them perfectly until a viscous extract was produced. After transferring the mixture into a metal bowl, Jimin walked back towards the priestess and offered the medicine.
The lady looked at the bowl first, and after recognizing its contents, she smiled and took it in her hand. “Thank you, Jimin.” She turned her head back to the sick man. “This extract will keep the itchiness down. Apply this whenever you feel something tingling under your skin. This young man here made this for you.”
The man’s eyes rolled weakly towards Jimin’s direction, causing him to flinch slightly. The faintest of smiles was palpable on his lips as he spoke hoarsely, “Thank you.”
Jimin couldn’t help the warmth spreading in his chest. Everytime someone expressed their gratitude towards the medicine he made, he couldn’t help but feel a slight tingling sensation in his hands, like soft flutters of insect wings brushing across his palms. He couldn’t explain it, but somehow the sensation had always been there, magnified further every time he step foot in this hall.
“Little Snow.”
A voice echoed behind him before he could reply to the man. Turning his head around, Jimin saw the High Priestess approaching him. “Can you gather some armoc roots near the falls? Priestess Min Joo needs to make an extra bottle of healing oil for Ha Eun’s daughter. She’s been complaining of headache since yesterday.”
“Of course.” Jimin excused himself from the priestesses’ presence and made his way out of the hall. Closing the door gently behind him, he immediately went to the kitchen to fetch his basket. Casually picking an apple from the table along his way, Jimin heard a snort coming from the fat woman stirring a large pot of hot soup.
“Boy, ‘ya don’t wanna eat before lunch is served. Don’t wanna ruin your appetite, aye?”
Chuckling, Jimin said, “I’ll be back in two hours, Ajumma. You don’t have to save a plate for me.”
The middle-aged woman hummed in understanding. “Running errands again?”
“Yes. The High Priestess told me to gather armoc roots near the falls.”
She tutted. “That old lady’s exhausting you like a slave. You’re better than more than half of the healers in this temple. But don’t tell her I said that.”
Jimin laughed. She had a sharp tongue, but Nam Hyun, the fat lady, had always been a very good friend to the High Priestess. “I won’t,” Jimin assured her, smiling as he turned around and took a bite on his apple.
The trip to the waterfalls was a bit tiring, even though Jimin had hiked this same path hundreds of times before. The terrain was quite steep and rocky, the wet soil occasionally causing Jimin’s foot to slip. When he finally saw the splashing waters of the falls, he trod through the big rocks and went near the falling water. The armoc roots were usually found growing in wet soil and high grounds, thus the falls would be a logical place to look for.
Jimin climbed a tree, sitting and balancing himself on a sturdy branch as he picked the golden brown roots from the steep slope near the current spilling down from the mouth of the river up ahead. He was high up in the air, but Jimin was never one who was afraid of heights. He loved being in high places, with the smell of the forest wafting under his nose, the cool wind blowing swiftly across his face, and the sun bathing his pale skin with warm glows.
After gathering enough armoc roots in his basket, as he was about to go down, Jimin’s vision caught a line of black smoke swirling in the atmosphere. Eyebrows pulling together in confusion, he tried to climb up higher to get a better view. When he was so high up from the ground, the canopies of trees stretching so far and wide and never-ending, Jimin caught four more fumes of black smoke, each distanced away from one another.
Hunters? he thought.
It wasn’t the first time that hunters got lost in this part of the woods. Some of them even ended up being treated in the temple for being attacked by a wild boar. Jimin once asked the High Priestess why the temple had never been attacked by wild animals before; the old woman just smiled and said that the goddess blessed her with a gift to protect the temple. She spoke of a barrier, an invisible wall keeping them safe from the furious beasts lurking in the wilderness.
There were people who were born with Gifts. Just like the High Priestess with her Gift of Protection and Priestess Ji Yeon with her Gift of Euphony which enabled her to play such lovely melodies on any instrument to soothe the hearts of the sick. Their Gifts were wonderful, and Jimin thought for so long how much he envied them. He wanted to have a Gift too, but the gods probably hated him from the time he was born.
The High Priestess said that he was an orphan of war; his parents died in the hands of the rebels who were trying to burn down his entire village. The old woman was there when it happened twenty-three years ago. As the High Priestess was escaping, running towards the carriage protected by the castle guards, Jimin’s mother called out to her, begging her to take her son. The guards tried to turn her away but the High Priestess stopped them to grant her wish.
“It was motherly love. Pure and unconditional,” Jimin remembered the old woman saying.
The High Priestess cradled the baby inside her arms, the frail, innocent child wrapped in a worn out blanket and crying for her mother’s bosom. The woman turned around to save his husband, despite telling her it was dangerous. The fire was huge and unrelenting, eating away everything in its path. The castle guards guided the old woman inside the carriage, telling her that there was no time and that the rebels were already running towards them.
Jimin closed his eyes and remembered her words: “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save your mother.”
Jimin’s eyes snapped open when someone tugged his arm in his sleep. He almost jumped out of bed when he was able to make out a man’s face in the darkness, his instincts telling him to flee when–
“Shh. It’s me. It’s me, kid.”
After a few moments of focusing on the man’s features, Jimin’s sense of panic started to die down as a familiar face took form amidst the shadows. “Yongwon-ssi?”
“The High Priestess told me to help you escape. Come.”
“What?” But before he could ask another question, the man immediately walked towards the door and pulled it open gently, careful to not make any unnecessary noise. “Grab your shoes and let’s get out of here, kid.”
“Wait!” Sliding his feet inside his shoes and hurriedly approaching the man, he asked, “What’s happening?”
“There are hundreds of castle guards outside the temple. The High Priestess is trying to hold them off, but we don’t have much time. Come.” The man grabbed Jimin by the arm and dragged him out of the room and along the corridors.
“Wha–” Jimin tried to complain but the man hushed him.
He could hear footsteps and distant conversations outside the temple. When Jimin tried to peak beside a huge wooden pillar, he felt his heart drop when he saw a castle guard, probably a general, unsheathe his sword and impale the High Priestess on the abdomen. A scream died inside Jimin’s throat. The priestesses cried as the old woman fell on the ground.
“Old witch,” the general spat in disgust and turned around to give an order to his men, “search the temple!”
“No. I won’t let you take another step on this holy ground.” The old lady held up her arms in front of her. With her palms stained with blood, a shock wave erupted from her hands which threw the general and some of his men a few meters away from where they initially stood.
Jimin saw it this time. A translucent barrier which engulfed the temple grounds like a protective dome. He didn’t know he was already running until a loud shout of his name echoed behind him. “Jimin!” Yongwon yelled.
“High Priestess!” Jimin knelt beside her and tried to help a priestess apply pressure on the old woman’s wound. Some of the priestesses were already running inside the temple to find medicine and bandages. There were angry roars of bloodthirsty men, their voices muffled by the barrier as they slashed their swords and aimed their arrows against the protective dome in attempt to bring it down.
“Little Snow.”
“Shh. Please don’t talk right now. Everything’s going to be all right,” Jimin tried to console and spare her from the burden of having to waste whatever remaining energy she had left. Jimin’s hands were shaking. He knew it. He was scared. He was so goddamn scared.
“You need to escape.”
“No.” Jimin shook his head as tears started to fall down from his eyes. “I won’t leave you.”
“Take your hands off me. You can’t–” the old woman coughed out blood and Jimin felt his heart stop for a second.
“No! No! Please!” Jimin pressed harder on the wound. The priestess beside her was trying to calm her down but he couldn’t hear anything. Blood was rushing in his ears and all he could feel was his heart beating loudly inside his chest.
“You can’t leave me!” Jimin shouted as tears continued to flow in streams down his cheeks. “You can’t–”
Then it happened.
Jimin’s palms started to glow, both of his hands feeling that warm rush of tingling sensation which escalated as time passed by. His hands felt like they were soaked in warm water, slightly burning the pads of his fingertips as unseen energy seeped out from the pores of his hands. His eyes were wide with shock as he felt the wound close slowly beneath his palms. Silence hung thickly around them for a moment and he knew for a fact that everyone within the vicinity saw what he’d just done.
“You–” the general remarked in disbelief. Jimin whipped his head towards his direction and he could see a smug smirk starting to creep slowly into the man’s lips. The general turned around to shout a command to his men. “It’s him! Bring that boy back no matter what!”
The High Priestess pulled the crystal blue necklace from her neck and pushed the pendant inside Jimin’s hand. “You need to go, Little Snow.”
“What? No! I won’t–”
“Come with me, kid!” Yongwon, with his massive built, tried to lift him up but Jimin struggled, kicking and shouting and shoving the man’s hands away from him.
“No! Let me go!”
“I’m sorry, Little Snow.” A tear escaped from the old woman’s eyes and Jimin felt his heart crack. “I’m so sorry.”
Before he could ask what the High Priestess meant, Jimin felt a sharp blow connect to the back of his neck. The impact made his whole body jerk and his vision blackened in a heartbeat.
- TBC