The Crow’s Bride

Year of Gwangmu (34th year of King Gojong).

 

The winter solstice arrived.

 

The cries of mountain beasts could be heard in the distance, and the cool night fog spread thickly. It was the longest night of the year, which made the place seem even darker.

 

Even the yellow clouds were dyed black, and through the gaps, a pure white moon peeked through.

 

Caw. Caw.

 

Crows cawed in flocks, from the mountains across the battlefield. It was a night unlike any other.

 

Flap.

 

Dozens of black shadows circled the sky with the sound of heavy flapping wings. Black feathers fell to the ground.

 

Screams could be heard here and there. Red blood splattered everywhere. It truly was an abomination.

 

In the center of it all, there stood a single figure. Judging by his build and height, he appeared to be a man, yet he remained perfectly still, unmoving. Despite it being impossible, the area around him somehow seemed eerily silent, as if he were from another world.

 

He was dressed entirely in black. Everything he wore was made of black cloth, even his robes. The only other color was red. He wore a wide-brimmed hat on his head, and beneath it, a veil draped down. The only part of his body that was bare was his hands, which were white in color.

 

“Lord Cheon-o.”*

 

“Kill them all. Tear them to pieces, don’t spare a single one.”

 

His expression was obscured by the veil, but he sounded furious. The voice that came out of him was cold enough to send shivers down one’s spine.

 

His gaze, shrouded in the shadows, was fixed on one place, seemingly unwilling to budge. His eyes remained fixed on the boy at his feet. Quietly.

 

He was so white, it was as if he had fallen into a snowfield. Even the lashes upon his eyelids were devoid of color as if refusing to let a single speck of darkness penetrate. The sight of his perfection made his stomach knot once more.

 

Damned things. How dare they kill this child.

 

No matter how much time passes, the human mentality never changes. As long as someone was different from them, they would ostracize them.

 

“Insignificant things.”

 

He’d been counting down the days until he was an adult. It’s only a matter of days now, and they’ve ruined it.

 

He watched him the whole time.

 

It was only a moment. All it took was just a moment he took his eyes off him, and he was gone. He rushed to save the child, but he was too late.

 

He would have to wait another hundred years.

 

His eyebrows knitted together as if he were deeply annoyed by this reality. The atmosphere grew lighter as if to make up for his turbulent mood.

 

Crackle, crackle. The flames roared, threatening to consume everything. The screams of agony were unrelenting.

 

“Sa, save me. Please save me!”

 

The one who had managed to escape the center of the carnage pleaded to him. He was delirious with terror. The tips of his hands were shaking as he struggled.

 

“Please!!”

 

It was as if he instinctively knew that clinging to him would save his life. Just as he was about to touch him, he heard the sound of something wooden breaking. It was a wave of pressure that crushed his spine.

 

He struggled, unable to scream. He struggled, his eyes bloodshot, his mouth gaping open.

 

Muffled screams of pain.

 

“Aaaaaaaaah!!!!”

 

From head to toe. No one was left whole. They were all chewed up and swallowed. 

 

The Lord’s words commanded his subjects, and they obeyed him like the commandments of heaven.

 

Eyes that glowed clearly in the darkness caught the enemy’s movements, and the murderous fingers squeezed the life out of them, weaving their bodies like fine threads.

 

The limbs that had been trembling violently stopped moving.

 

Caw. Caw.

 

A flock of crows circled in the night sky, creating a black shroud. As if to blind the world itself.

 

The night of carnage which ended with the Japanese atrocities was not recorded in history.

 

100 years later.

 

In a sparsely populated rural hospital, a child with white skin and hair was born on the night of the winter solstice.

 

“Waaahhhh.”

 

The child cried the whole time. The cry was terribly upsetting, as if it foreshadowed the life that was to come.

 

At that moment, in another time and place, a man opened his eyes. His glassy pupils were unusually large and jet-black.

 

The corners of his mouth were gently upturned. His expression didn’t change much, but he was clearly overjoyed.

 

“You have been born. My bride.”

 

It had been exactly a hundred years.

 

Finally, the crow’s bride has returned to the world. The waiting was over.

 

This time, he would not fail.

 

Flap.

 

Under the night sky, the crow spread its wings.

 Okayy let's start this story now. I'm sorry it took me a long time to continue translating this! Note/s:Cheon-o - literally translates to 'Heavenly Crow'. If you're familiar with some Chinese, Japanese and Korean myths, they appear there. In Japanese myths, these crow is even described to have three feet.