Chapter 6 — The Sorcerer Qualification Exam (2)

The talismans of Aeshin Korea owed a profound debt to Taoism, which had its origin in the land of Jin.
In Hwa, only the bare form of the talisman survived; the materials, the methods, every facet of its making had changed. But in Aeshin a fair amount of the original form still lived on, and the great houses, the Eight Pure-Blood Houses among them, had each developed it independently, every lineage layering its own character onto the craft.
Among them the Shin House most often inscribed its talismans with incantations that borrowed the power of the shikigami bound to the family by eternal contracts. For that reason, mixing in even a small amount of one’s own blood when writing a talisman, to prove one carried the bloodline and not merely spiritual power, gave the work far greater effect.

A curious thing, when one thinks on it. Talisman-craft is a discipline permitted only to the direct line, even within the Shin House — and not talisman-craft alone, but every unique sorcery besides… for an unsanctioned person merely to learn of it would invite the family’s order of execution.

Naturally the family would have had no wish to teach any of this to Shin Hweein, who could not even handle sorcery properly.
But his late mother, when the elders hemmed and pulled their difficult faces, had stood squarely against them and demanded whether they meant to dismiss the natural right of the legitimate heir, and in the end she had taught these things to Shin Hweein herself.
Only after she had crammed every last scrap of the Shin House’s knowledge into his small head had she closed her eyes, looking, it seemed, satisfied at last.

As though she had known, somehow, that one day Shin Hweein’s body would mend and that he would handle sorcery.

Delusions ought to have their limit.

Recalling his mother’s face, the face of one who had given her own blood to teach him, with severity, how a talisman is drawn, Shin Hweein drew a bitter smile to the corner of his mouth.
In all likelihood she had simply wished it: that even should Shin Hweein die, he would die as the legitimate heir of the Shin House, head held high, feeling no shame before others. So she had taken thought for him.

“…Haa.”

Surfacing from his thoughts, Shin Hweein let out a quiet sigh, then mixed his own blood, in the proper ratio, into the cinnabar mirror-stone (a vermilion-red sulfide mineral) from which he had finished straining every impurity.
Now that he could control blood, the liquid of blood and cinnabar yielded to his command without difficulty. He needed neither to dip his hands in nor to take up any implement; the mere crook of a finger blended the mixture to perfection.

That was not all. As his mastery over blood grew, the talisman’s potency would naturally be amplified along with it.
If even he, who had inherited only the most trifling share of a vampire’s authority, could do this much, it was simply astonishing to wonder what extraordinary sorceries other vampires might work through blood.

Or perhaps… it may be that this is the power of one of the great among them.

Drawing a deep breath, he reached for the yellow-toad paper he had cut to a suitable size.
He recited the incantation handed down through the family and inscribed the lines of the talisman in the red liquid, and every character was pure Hangul¹.
It was not that Shin Hweein could not write Hanja. Rather, the language that bound the shikigami of the Shin House was not the Hanja of Jin but the Hangul of Aeshin.

“That Hweein of the Shin House, not forgetting the long compact of his forebears, once more pledges the bond and the future of the two worlds: shikigami Purple Cloud, by the call of the bond joined in blood, guard me with your power.”

The instant he finished the inscription and brought the incantation to its close together, the talisman gave off a dazzling light and began to draw spiritual power out of Shin Hweein.
The drain was greater than he had imagined and gave him a start, but fortunately the absorption stopped at the very edge before his body could falter, and the light subsided.
A talisman to ward his body against every misfortune and disaster, what was called a warding charm, had at that moment been completed.

I had heard that, when a warding charm is successfully made, Purple Cloud coils himself within it… but I never quite thought it would be true.

Marveling, Shin Hweein examined the small, gold-shimmering picture of a dragon that had appeared beneath the lines he had written.
Purple Cloud was the shikigami that symbolized the history of the Shin House.
By all accounts an ancestor of theirs, far back in the line, had accumulated such enormous good karma that a dragon who governed a portion of the Specter Realm came in person to commend him and enter into a shikigami contract. That dragon was Purple Cloud.
He had always appeared together with auspicious purple-colored clouds, and so had come to be called Purple Cloud. Though the shikigami contract ended with the contractor’s death, he had vowed to safeguard the Shin House for all generations, and the token of that promise was precisely this warding charm.
Only one in whom the blood of the Shin House ran could fashion it. The thicker the blood and the greater the good karma stored up, the more of Purple Cloud’s power could be drawn forth.

Shin Hweein, who had had every manner of curse heaped on him by Flame-tail for the sin-karma he had amassed, had insisted all along that the karma was not his, yet had stayed quietly uneasy nonetheless. If it had come to this much, however, then it was a resounding success.

“Haa, then on to the next talisman… let me rest a moment first, and then make it.”

Having succeeded in fashioning the talisman, Shin Hweein closed his eyes, half to settle the elation that had risen in him, and quietly entered seon meditation. Once his spiritual power was fully restored, he set about making the warding charms of the other formidable yokai who, like Purple Cloud, guarded the Shin House.
Each sheet drained his spiritual power to the bottom and forced him to repeat the meditation, but his recovery rate had always been quick, and so, somehow or other, he managed to finish the three warding charms he had set as his goal before the Hour of the Rat had passed.

“Pagoda tree, who through long years has gathered the Shin House into your broad shade: Hweein, of the family’s last line, has set forth on a journey, and asks that you lend him your power a while, that he may return home unharmed.”

The last of the three was the talisman of the spirit of the ancient pagoda tree that grew in the front courtyard of the main house, the Pagoda-Tree God.
The pagoda tree was by nature so steeped in spiritual potency that it was said to drive off ghosts, and the yellow-toad paper that served as the talisman’s stock was made by dyeing the paper with the flowers and fruit of this very pagoda tree besides. So the harmony between talisman and Pagoda-Tree God hardly needed saying.
The only doubt was whether this Pagoda-Tree God, legitimate heir though Shin Hweein was, would still wish to protect a man cast out of the main house.
But as with the warding charms of Purple Cloud and the other shikigami, on the completed talisman a pagoda tree stood up tall and burst into a lavish bloom of flowers.

“…So you guard me even still. To my shame, having forsaken the family, I borrow your strength now. Forgive me.”

As Shin Hweein murmured this bitterly and stroked the talisman, for an instant the tree in the picture seemed to shake its branches, as if to say it was all right.
Wondering whether he had imagined it, he blinked, and the tree stood drawn there, unchanged.

“If you’re all finished, may we air the room out now, young master?”
“Yes, it’s all done.”

He nodded at the words spoken behind him, and the dim room brightened. The air purifier started up, and all the close, heavy air was drawn out in one breath while fresh air filled the room.
Shin Hweein gathered the three talismans, tucked them inside his robe, then turned to Geum Moa and narrowed his eyes.
Geum Moa had spoken so smoothly that he had nearly let it pass, but she had been outside all this time and had only now returned.

“Another long walk in the night, was it? Has the cold not seeped into you?”
“And if I said it had, would you take me into your arms, young master?”
“Man and woman are kept distinct — how could I do such a thing? But I can take your hands, at least.”

The words were barely out before Geum Moa had strode up to him in great steps and thrust out both her hands. With a wry smile at the corner of his mouth, Shin Hweein reached out both of his own and grasped them.
His sight had been growing keener by the day, ever since his eyes had opened after that previous fainting spell.
He could see now how very cold her hands felt, and along with that, how much death they had drunk in.
Death made only a little while ago, at that.

“Moa — to have a poor master like me, you go through so much.”
“I don’t quite follow, young master, but it’s warm — and that’s lovely. Hee.”

Still holding her hands, Shin Hweein quietly murmured a few incantations to console the spirits of the dead.
A great yokai such as she would feel no burden at all even were such residues clinging to her by the ten thousand. But he believed all this death had been made on his account, and so he reckoned the consoling of the dead his share as well.

— Hmph. What’s so good about a hypocrite playing the prude.

“Flame-tail — come here, you too.”

When he beckoned to Flame-tail, who had come back to the room at about the same time as Geum Moa, the creature widened his round eyes and shook his head.

— Wh — no, I really was just out for a walk—

“Come along. The cold must be in you by now.”

— Eugh, I don’t want to —!

Letting go of Geum Moa’s hands, he gathered Flame-tail into his arms. The creature thrashed about in refusal, then at some point fell quiet.
Geum Moa, who had stepped back, wore a wickedly amused expression as she met the creature’s eyes, and from that alone Shin Hweein could guess what sort of face Flame-tail must be making.

There was, however, a further reason he had caught hold of the creature and gathered him in.

“There’s a little cinnabar left over — I can inscribe a Shin-House unique sorcery onto you.”

— What? Who said you could carve anything on my body, just like that?

“The Shin House’s shikigami-support arts are also formidable, and the branches are two in the main. One grows the shikigami; the other borrows the power of beings of higher rank to bolster the shikigami’s strength. Your rank itself is already very high, so the former is unnecessary — and you have technique enough with your power, but the sheer quantity is lacking just now, so the latter suits you.”

— I don’t need that kind of thing. I have the flame I received from her!

“But that flame has weakened, has it not? To borrow another’s flame is no betrayal — so be still.”

— Stop, no, not like this — by force — it’s cold!

Shin Hweein lifted Flame-tail’s left foreleg, drew a ring of cinnabar around the ankle as though tracing a bracelet, and around that ring let the Hanja graphemes flow into place as though sketching a picture.
The moment he inscribed the full incantation and breathed his spiritual power into it, the liquid, clearly red until now, flashed and gave off bright gold and red light at once. And Flame-tail, who had been protesting up to that very moment, examined the sight with sudden curiosity and read out part of the line inscribed on his ankle.

— “The Queen commands”…? Is there a queen of fire?

“In ages past there was a queen who held a bond with the fire-spirits. By borrowing her name and authority, one wields the power of the fire-spirits. Our family has Royal House blood mingled in as well, and so we can use this incantation.”

The power of the Royal House had developed in a direction of repelling every kind of ghost and revering only their late kings as divine beings, drawing power from them alone. Conversely, they themselves perhaps could not use this incantation.
Smiling to himself at the thought, Shin Hweein stroked Flame-tail’s foreleg.
The incantation had settled fully into place, not a smudge of pigment coming away, so the work was a success.

“There. Now then, shall I inscribe one on our Neuldam as well?”

— Krn?

“Young master — surely you haven’t forgotten? Tomorrow’s exam isn’t the practical, it’s the written test.”
“Yes, I am aware.”

Four days had passed by now since Shin Hweein had first begun to study.
He had vowed at the outset to finish reading every study guide cover to cover within two days. But, as one might have foreseen, partway through, his frail back could endure no more and ached as if it would break, so he had had to rest for a day and concentrate solely on meditation.
For that reason he finished all his studying only this morning, and had hastily prepared the cinnabar mirror-stone, performing the water-strain and the rest, before setting to the making of the talismans.
Still, thanks to that mid-course collapse, he had meditated until he was sick of it, and had at last finished fully dissolving Do Yuna’s spiritual power within him, so it had not been a wholly bad thing.

“But on the sorcerer-aspirants’ forum it was said that there’s a fairly high chance tomorrow’s examiner will come from the Yun House.”

The Yun House, along with the Shin House and the Seo House, belonged to the Three Capital Houses, and was a member of the Eight Pure-Blood Houses.
It had no clearly defined specialty as the Shin House did. Rather, like the Seo House, it was naturally gifted at the handling of pure sorcery, and besides that, generation after generation it was sound of body and grand of frame, and whenever war broke out it had always charged at the very front, so it was the house the royal family trusted and prized above all.

“The Yun line, from of old, are stubborn in the extreme, yet at the same time of a soldier’s straightforward and decisive blood, so there is no telling what tomorrow’s exam may bring. In preparation for that—”
“Wai—wait a moment. Young master. What did you just say? What forum?”
“The sorcerer-aspirants’ forum, I said. The commu— nity.”

Stroking Neuldam, who had woken from sleep and crept down onto his knee, as he made ready to inscribe the incantation, Shin Hweein graciously held up his phone screen for Geum Moa, who was staring at him in plain astonishment.
And indeed, the Rank Three and Rank Four sorcerer-aspirants who would tomorrow sit the written exam at the same hour were posting in real time threads whose mere titles made one’s shoulders sag: Tomorrow’s exam is doomed; Why is it bad if the examiner is from the Yun House?; I’ll be satisfied if I can at least get my face noted by a Three Capital Houses elite; and the like.
But it was not that which had stunned Geum Moa.

“A forum… the young master, on a forum.”
“Is that so very astounding a thing? So long as one is careful of false information, the inter—net world one can reach from this small phone is enormously useful. One can even download a talisman by image and use it. Compared to a paper talisman the disadvantages are many — so I am not interested, mind.”
“Stop, please — stop. In the few days I’ve been wandering about outside, what enormous transformations have come over the young master…!”
“Nothing of the sort — only that, whenever my head ached and I could not study, I peeked in a little at a time.”
“You — you haven’t been posting, have you?”

Shin Hweein’s words, which had flowed as clean as a river, broke off sharply at the question, and his face turned quietly to the side, away from her gaze.
Seeing it, Geum Moa resolved that she too would log into this forum and, without fail, hunt down the young master’s posts.
The post that read most like a stuffy old man’s would surely be the one Shin Hweein had written.

— Krrrn….

“There, there. Now let us begin. We are asking Samshin Halmi² to look kindly on you, so be still just a little while longer.”

On a tray he had prepared in advance, Shin Hweein set out a plate of susu-patteok³ he had also bought ahead of time, and offered a simple rite.
When the rite was finished, he scraped the last of the remaining mixture clean and inscribed the incantation across Neuldam’s back, and at that his spiritual power was drawn out to a point a little past his limit.

“Young master!”
“Haa — I am all right. It is a success.”

— Kn?

The red characters faded slowly until they had vanished, but Shin Hweein could feel that, if only for a time, the protection of a high-ranking being had been laid over Neuldam.
The proof of it was the several flower-patterns symbolizing life that had bloomed across Neuldam’s back.

“Neuldam — from here on, you have only to eat well, sleep as much as you like, and grow. Grow up that way, and help me.”

— Krrrr!

“Yes, yes — that’s it. Will you have some susu-patteok?”

Neuldam brightened at the words and scanned the offering-tray, but the susu-patteok laid out on it had, at some point, vanished without a trace.
To Neuldam, who was wagging its tail wildly in surprise, Shin Hweein fed the susu-patteok he had set aside separately, smiling faintly.

“Samshin Halmi, too, must have taken a liking to you.”
“In all the world only the Shin House would ask Samshin Halmi to look after a young yokai — not even a human child.”
“What of it? Since we have received such help, all that is needed is for Neuldam to grow up sound and strong, and to protect children in turn. The affairs of this world, however one-sided they may seem on the face of it, all draw together in the end and trace a single circle.”
“You too think so, young master?”

To Geum Moa’s barbed question, Shin Hweein answered with a faint laugh.

“Yes — only of late has it become possible for me to think so, I suppose.”
“But surely the day will come when you will yourself call what you have just said foolish.”
“Most likely it shall.”

Shin Hweein did not resist Geum Moa’s words.

“But once again, somewhere, I shall come to think the same thing. The proof is that we two are here together now.”
“Hah, your words are always so glib… have a susu-patteok with me.”
“That I cannot. I have the exam tomorrow, so from now I must keep an empty stomach — or my stomach will be in danger.”
“Oh honestly — when you suffer like that, what circle is there to speak of?”

The next day, at the sorcerer examination hall in Zone 0, administered directly by the royal palace.

As many had expected, the soldier-official sent up from the Yun House as the day’s examiner gathered the Rank Three and Rank Four aspirants together and declared:

“As all here know, a sorcerer ought to be able to meet any sudden situation by improvising. Accordingly, this exam will skip the written portion. Rank Three and Rank Four aspirants alike shall all together transit into the Specter Realm and take the practical at once.”
“—!”

It was a high-handed declaration that tore down the very basics of an examination, but pushing such a thing through was precisely the power of a direct-line member of the Eight Pure-Blood Houses.
The aspirants all wore faces that wished to shout their protests; but knowing instinctively that, against an authority of the Eight Pure-Blood Houses, raising their voices could well cost them their heads as a public example, they fought desperately to keep their anger pressed down.
Amid all of which, Shin Hweein, one of the small number of aspirants who had foreseen just such a turn and prepared the bare minimum, was thinking quietly to himself.

If I’d known it would come to this anyway, then rather than poring over the study guide, I should have practiced the sacrifice-rite instead…? Hm?

In that moment Shin Hweein felt the examiner’s gaze and lifted his head.
Surely it could not be. Was he caught again, as he had been at Ham Seoyeon’s hand? If so, then he would not let this slide with Geum Moa….
But hardly had the thought come before the examiner’s eyes lifted away from him.
Considered coolly, Geum Moa had served as a handmaid in the Shin House for over ten years without even those of the Shin House catching on; her transformation art was not the sort of thing to be pierced so easily, even were the opponent a member of the Eight Pure-Blood Houses.
Athena, the war-god⁴ served by the mudang Ham Seoyeon, must simply have been an excessively special case.
It had to be so.

— Now then, that man.

Whether it was because his tension had eased, sighing inwardly and shooting a glance at the examiner, he abruptly realized that he knew this Yun-House man.
He had been one of his father’s acquaintances.