“And what would that be?”
“A memory. Show me what happened a hundred years ago on a cliff by the sea. Show me what happened to make the Sea God lose all hope. Show me what happened to the emperor of my people.”
The goddess pulls from her sleeve a very old paper boat, crumbling at the edges. It looks like a gust of wind could blow it apart. She holds it out to me.
I lift my hand and touch its papered wings.
* * *
I’m back on the cliffside of the Sea God’s dream. But where then he was at the edge of the cliff, now he’s nowhere in sight.
It’s peaceful here. The wind sharp, but clear. The sun overhead shines down on the sparkling sea, where fishing boats are out on the early-morning waters.
I’m stepping closer to the edge, thinking to make out the faces on the boats, when the earth begins to shake beneath me, rocks tumbling from the cliff into the sea. A battalion of warriors on horseback approaches up the hill. At the head of the group—atop a magnificent warhorse—is the Sea God.
Yet, something’s amiss. His golden armor is splattered with dirt and streaks of blood.
One man brings his horse alongside the Sea God’s. He wears a chest plate with a seal depicting a rising tiger, denoting his rank as the general of the emperor’s armies.
“Your Majesty!” the man shouts. “You must flee before it’s too late.”
The Sea God lifts the helmet off his head. The expression I’m familiar with—where he looks lost, hurt—is gone. He looks … fierce, like a leader. With a gaze steadied on the general, he drops his helmet to the ground. “I will not abandon my men. I will stay and fight.”
“Your Majesty,” the general growls, “you must live. You are more than one person. You are the hope of our people!”
The Sea God looks as if he will argue further, but then he curses. Abruptly he turns his horse.
But he’s too late. The small group of men has lingered too long in the open. A greater enemy rides up the cliff, trapping the warriors against the edge.
The battle that ensues is bloody, terrible. The men form a circle around the Sea God, but one by one, they fall. Soon it’s only the boy and his general.
Realizing that defeat is upon them, the general raps his sword against the flank of the Sea God’s horse. It screams, then gallops away from the battle.
Hope swells in my stomach, quickly plummeting when I see an enemy soldier rise from where he was hiding behind a large stone. He nocks an arrow to his bow, drawing the string back.
He releases the arrow. It flies curved through the air.
“Watch out!” I scream, but of course no one hears me. No one can see me. This is just a memory, of a time long ago.
The arrow pierces the Sea God’s chest.
He slides from the horse, landing inches away from the edge of the cliff. The enemy falls back. They’ve accomplished what they set out to do. It’s inevitable. A wound such as this is fatal.
I rush to the Sea God’s side, hands hovering in the air above him. Even if I were to reach out, I wouldn’t be able to touch him. We are separated by a hundred years. The arrowhead protrudes from his back, soaked in his blood. He’s dying. The Sea God looks at me, and for a moment, it’s as if he sees me. But then he turns his face away, his eyes searching. “Who are you?” he whispers.
I look up. On the other side of him crouches …
“Sh-Shin?” I say. “What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t answer. Like the Sea God, he cannot see me.
The Sea God coughs, blood between his teeth. He looks young. Too young to die. “Why won’t you answer me?” he cries. “Who are you?”
“Don’t speak,” Shin says, and his voice is quiet, soothing. “You’ve been shot through the lungs.”
“Am I dying?”
“Yes.”
The Sea God closes his eyes, a terrible sadness cloaking his features.
Shin watches the boy, and I watch him. He looks different in this memory. He wears long blue robes, similar to the one he wore at the festival. His hair is longer, held in a topknot. Softly, he murmurs, “You are afraid.”
The boy opens his eyes, a furious, fierce expression taking over his features. But then he groans, the pain rising. His eyes cloud over. “I’m less afraid of dying than I am of leaving them all alone.”
His words remind me of the nightmare. He said, I’ve failed them. I’ve failed them all.
Suddenly, the boy grabs Shin’s sleeve. “My people. Who will look after them when I am gone? Who will make sure they are safe?” His words are desperate, his lips bubbling over with blood.