Chapter 8

As the day's twilight fell, Zoan and his companions arrived at their hideout.

The return of Shemul, the child of the revered beast god, brought smiles back to the faces of his wounded and exhausted fellow tribesmen, who had not smiled in days. Despite burns on their hands and faces, and bandages wrapped around them, the children clung to him with smiles, and Shemul embraced each one tightly.

However, when the adults realized that Shemul was bringing human children, their expressions turned sour. The warriors, in particular, who felt the shame of not being able to protect their own, openly showed their disgust.

Shemul, as if to brush off their gazes, deliberately showed a firm attitude, demonstrating that he had no regrets and to deflect the hostility directed at the human child, Cangma.

Shemul called out to the *Fierce Fang*.

"Is the old lady here?"

The old lady was the eldest in Shemul's village and also a shaman who served the great animal god. In such villages, the shaman often serves as the storyteller of the tribe's history and also as a herbalist who treats injuries and illnesses.

"Yes, she's at the prayer site near the waterfall. She was worried about you. You should go see her."

*Fierce Fang* answered this way, also intending to distance the human child from the villagers before their hatred erupted.

Shemul understood this intention and decided to head to the prayer site with Cangma.

Shemul's destination was an ancient tree growing beside a small waterfall, further up the mountain from the hideout. At the base of the tree, there was a small pile of colorful wooden pieces and stones, which seemed to have been offered by the Zoans. In Shemul's clan, it was said that the souls of warriors, upon death, would reside in this tree and watch over the clan.

In the past, when they lived on the plains, they only climbed this mountain during rituals, but now they lived hidden just a stone's throw away. The physical distance between the clan and the ancient tree seemed to hint that the time when all the clan members would reside in the tree was drawing near.

In front of the ancient tree stood an old Zoan, shriveled like a mummified monkey.

"Hey, hey, you stinky little girl, you're still alive?"

The old Zoan, upon noticing Shemul, narrowed his already thin eyes into slits and greeted her with a smile.

"Calling me stinky is quite rude, old lady. I'm a girl who makes flowers blush, you know."

"Hehehe. Wasn't it just the other day that I helped dry the fur that was wet from your bedwetting while we were hiding together?"

"That, that was over ten years ago! Really, old people always bring up the past."

After all, the old lady in front of her had been the one to deliver Shemul when she was born and had taken care of her ever since. Because the old lady knew all the embarrassing childhood stories that Shemul wanted to forget, she still couldn't stand up to her.

"By the way, don't you have a favor to ask me? Probably about that human child, right?"

"Yes, old lady. Could you take a look at this one?"

Shemul lifted Cangma, who was still unconscious, from the back of the animal and laid him on a large, flat stone in front of the ancient tree.

"Let's see, let's see..."

The old lady placed her palms over the sleeping Cangma and muttered for a while.

"Hmm. I'm surprised. This one is a 'fallen child,' isn't he?"

"A 'fallen child'?"

Shemul tilted her head at the unfamiliar word.

"Yes. Occasionally, due to the mischief of spirits or the will of the gods, someone falls from a different realm into this one. That's what a 'fallen child' is."

The old lady took a pinch of a mysterious powder from her pocket and sprinkled it on Cangma's body.

"Indeed, that's the case. This child is not connected to this world."

"Not connected?"

"We are connected to the realm we were born and raised in by invisible threads. This 'fallen child' is not connected to this realm, so he won't last long."

"Old lady! What do you mean?!"

"We don't just live on food. We gain the power to live through our connection to the realm, which comes in the form of food, water, and air. This one lacks that connection. Therefore, no matter how much he eats or drinks, he cannot absorb the power of this realm. Even if he breathes in the power of the realm, his body cannot accept it."

"Can't you do something, old lady?!"

"Well, it's not impossible..."

Pressed by Shemul, the old lady began to examine Cangma's body, feeling his pulse, listening to his heartbeat, and sprinkling more mysterious powder.

When she tried to measure his temperature by placing her hand on his forehead, the old lady was surprised.

"Wh-what?!"

"What's wrong, old lady?"

"Is this one the child of Aura?!"

The old lady pushed back Cangma's bangs, revealing the mark on his forehead.

It was a mark that Shemul, also a child of the god, had never seen before.

"What is this...?"

"The mark of Aura. I've also never seen it before."

The old lady, like Shemul, had only heard about it from the previous storyteller but had never seen it in person.

"Aura? I've never heard that name. Is it a god?"

"It's not just a god! It's a great god older than the seven gods, including the beast god."

"I've never heard of such a god."

"That's right. Aura is the goddess of death and destruction. It is forbidden to speak her name."

"Is it an evil god?"

"No. It's because of Aura that the seven gods were born. There is life and creation because there is death and destruction. Aura is a great god, a counterpart to the great creator god."

However, the old lady shook her head slightly.

"Still, death and destruction are abhorred. If we keep this one alive, it might bring disaster."

Especially now, the timing is bad.

Having been driven from their village by humans and with the possibility of another attack, having a child of the goddess of death and destruction could unnecessarily stir up the fears of their fellow tribesmen.

"*Noble Fang*, do you still intend to keep this one alive?"

The old lady's words were heavy.

Helping this human meant taking on all of his future responsibilities. This human was already an enemy, and now this human child was the child of the goddess of death and destruction. Not only could it bring disaster to her, but also to her fellow tribesmen.

If that happened, could she bear the burden of all the sins?

That's what the old lady was asking.

"Yes. Please, old lady. I owe this one a debt of gratitude."

Shemul answered with determination.

There is a Zoan proverb that goes like this:

"A debt of gratitude for a rabbit given when one is hungry must be repaid even in death."

Moreover, this human child, despite being hungry himself, had shared his meager food with Shemul. She couldn't let him die without repaying that debt.

"Hehehe. If you say so, this old woman can't just stand by."

"Thank you, old lady. But are you sure it's okay for you?"

Shemul was worried that helping this human child might cause trouble for the old lady later.

"Don't worry. Whether we keep this one alive or not, we will be destroyed by the humans in the near future. It won't make much difference if it happens a little sooner."

The old lady grinned and then burst into laughter.

◆◇◆◇◆

By the time the moon was high in the sky, a red fire was burning at the prayer site.

The pile of wood, stacked like a mountain, sent sparks flying and burned fiercely.

On the large, flat rock in front of the ancient tree, Cangma, stripped naked, lay sweating profusely from the heat of the flames, groaning in pain.

The old lady, seated in front of the burning fire, grabbed a handful of powder from several jars in front of her and threw it into the fire. The fire, emitting a medicinal smell, burned even more fiercely, sending up white smoke. She repeated this, grabbing powder from other jars and throwing it into the fire, creating a unique scent that permeated the area.

The old lady howled to the moon, sometimes fiercely, sometimes mournfully, shaking the night air.

Riding the unique rhythm of the howl, Shemul leaped out.

Her body was painted with colored mud mixed with water, and her head was adorned with brightly colored bird feathers like a mane. Around her neck, she wore a necklace made of animal teeth, jade, and carnelian, and on her wrists and ankles, she wore golden rings with bells.

As Shemul's supple limbs moved, the bells jingled.

The old lady's howl echoed like waves, sometimes distant, sometimes close.

Shemul's dance became more intense, stepping her right foot wide as if to split the ground, stretching her upper body forward as if to rub against the ground. In the next moment, she jumped up with a thud, spinning in the air. As she landed, the bells on her body jingled.

The old lady, howling, began to sway her upper body. The small sways gradually grew larger, and her body rocked back and forth.

Shemul's arms drew large circles, and the bells jingled. With each light step, like a fairy dancing on water, the bells jingled.

Like a great serpent, Shemul contorted her body, then spread her arms like a phoenix and danced in the air. She took a step, turned, and in the next moment, crouched like a female leopard, arching her back to show off her full chest and roaring to the sky.

Sweat poured from Shemul's body, mingling with the heat of the flames, and splashed as her body moved.

The old lady, holding a small jar under her arm, ran to Cangma. She then pulled out a stick that had been stuck in the jar while singing loudly. The end of the stick was covered with a thick, greenish liquid.

The old lady skillfully moved the stick, drawing complex patterns on Cangma's body.

When she finished, Shemul, still dancing, picked up a water jug placed in front of the ancient tree. She circled around the flat rock where Cangma lay, crouching like a predator stalking its prey. Gradually, the circle narrowed, and Shemul's body covered Cangma's feet.

Shemul's body, crawling on all fours, slowly climbed up from Cangma's feet. Swaying her body to the old lady's howl, she moved up from his ankles to his knees, from his knees to his waist, from his waist to his chest.

The sweat dripping from Shemul's body mixed with Cangma's own sweat, drenching him.

Finally, reaching his head, Shemul stood up and sat on Cangma's chest.

She then placed the mouth of the water jug to Cangma's lips and poured a white, cloudy liquid into his mouth.

Cangma choked violently, but most of it went down his throat, and his body suddenly began to tremble.

The old lady's howl reached its peak and turned into a scream.

As if trying to throw Shemul off, Cangma's body arched backward. Shemul clung to him, trying not to be thrown off.

Suddenly, the old lady's scream stopped, and Cangma's body went limp, lying flat.

For a while, only the heavy breathing of the three and the crackling of the fire filled the air.

"Phew, this old body can't take it..."

The old lady, muttering, placed her hands over Cangma.

"Hmm, he's connected, he's connected."

"Old lady, did it work?"

Shemul, feeling weak from the heat and the dance, asked the old lady.

"It worked. Well, as long as he's not dead."

Hastily, Shemul placed her ear on Cangma's chest to check his heartbeat. Fortunately, his heart was beating steadily.

Relieved, Shemul let out a sigh, which seemed to touch Cangma's face, causing his eyelids to twitch and his eyes to open slightly.

"Are you awake? Can you understand me?"

Shemul asked, but Cangma's gaze seemed to wander aimlessly. However, it eventually focused on Shemul's face.

"Can you understand me?"

Shemul asked again, and Cangma's lips parted slightly.

He seemed to be trying to say something, and Shemul leaned in to listen.

Cangma, with a sigh, whispered faintly.

"...You're beautiful."

Then, he lost consciousness again.

"What?!"

Shemul was speechless at the unexpected words.

The old lady, seeing Shemul's flustered expression, burst into laughter.

11/11 Typo correction

2014/6/15 Typo correction