"What if I told you that you could talk to your daughter?"
"...!"
"And what could you give me?"
Demian's eyes widened at Vikir's words.
If only he could get his daughter to come back and talk to him once more, what a price to pay as a father.
"I, if my daughter wakes up. I would never be angry with her again, and I would let her know that I love her no matter what, unconditionally, and I would respect whatever choices she makes, and I would forgive her for the rest of her life...."
"No. What can you give me?"
Vikir cut Demian's confession short.
Vikir was not a priest, and he was under no obligation to listen to the regrets of an incompetent father.
"...."
Demian's expression went blank for a moment, then returned.
He'd met countless people in his life who'd begged him to lend them money.
They wanted an investment, they wanted to pay interest, they wanted to delay the payment of a debt, or they had a sick family member – parent, spouse, child...
But each time, Demian thought to himself.
'What the hell.'
That's their problem, not mine.
In order to make a deal, you have to convince the other side, and an essential part of that process is convincing the other side that the deal is a win-win.
That doesn't include the unfortunate party's pathetic story.
Demian, who has made a lot of heartless trades in his life, finally snapped out of it.
"If you give me my daughter back, I'll give you everything in my power, including...."
Demian said without hesitation.
It looked like he'd been practicing his resolve for a long time.
But Vikir shook his head.
"I didn't say I'd give it back."
"...?"
"To make conversation possible."
For a moment, an anxious glint flashed across Demian's face.
"You don't mean you're going to kill me and my daughter so our souls can talk to each other or something?"
"Well, that would be one way."
" ...Look."
"But that's not a good idea, especially since it's a money-back guarantee if you're not satisfied with the results."
Vikir stood up and turned to face the back of the fluttering curtain.
When Demian pushed himself out of the booth, Vikir was gone.
However.
"Dying is not an atonement, it's an escape. Take responsibility for it to the end."
He could only hear the muffled voice echoing in his head.
* * *
Exactly one month later.
Vikir found Demian's mansion.
On the outskirts of a strict border, gaps appear like threads.
Through the gap into the depths of the mansion, he saw Demian standing nervously.
He was spinning around in circles, restless like a rabbit with a pocket watch.
Finally, spotting Vikir, Demian spoke in a tightly held voice.
"...You're late."
"This is early."
Brief greetings are exchanged.
Vikir was led by Demian to a bedroom deep in the annex.
At first, the big, fluffy bed came into view.
Temperature, humidity, light, and relaxing scented candles fill the center of the room.
A woman lay with her eyes closed.
Long, flowing white hair. Fair, clean skin, big eyes, long lashes.
Juliet. Juliet J Bourgeois. Demian's only child and only daughter. One of two girls who tried to become the next head of the family. The genius girl who was once thought to be the closest to becoming the next head of household.
"...."
Vikir stared at Juliet's sleeping face.
'I think I recognize this face.'
Surely it was familiar.
Vikir wondered for a moment where he had seen this woman's face before.
"Is this a necessary part of awakening my daughter, to stare so intently into a sleeping lady's face?"
Demian asked in an uneasy voice from beside Vikir.
Vikir heard the words and pulled his gaze away from Juliet's face.
"You can come out now."
With that, Vikir's cloak was lifted, and a figure stepped out from within.
It was Pomeranian.
Demian stared at Pomeranian in disbelief.
" ...What is this girl? She looks way too young."
"She is the shaman who will summon your daughter. If you want to talk to your daughter, stay quiet."
Vikir waved away all of Demian's questions as if they were a nuisance.
Then Vikir turned to Pomeranian and spoke.
"Pomeranian. Your soul sensitivity is excellent. Can you do this?"
"Mmm! Samchun!"
"Uncle, not Samchun. Anyway, let's do what I told you before."
Vikir, Pomeranian, and Demian moved to the middle of the bed and stood looking down at Juliet.
After staring at Juliet for a moment, Pomeranian spoke.
"This sister. Have no soul."
The words stunned Damien.
"What do you mean, no soul? What does that mean?"
"Mmm. ... it away. It's somewhere else."
"Well, what does that mean, huh, kid, talk to me longer!"
Demian dropped to his knees and locked eyes with Pomeranian.
Then Vikir interpreted.
"Your daughter is now a living soul (生靈), wandering elsewhere. Neither in this world nor the next."
"A living soul, what is that?"
"Her body is alive, but her soul is wandering elsewhere, assuming herself dead."
Vikir glanced at the Pomeranian.
"The living soul thinks it is dead and wonders why it cannot go to the other side. Or even worse, it thinks it is still alive."
"Well, then, what can I do!"
"Nothing. That's why I brought the shaman."
Vikir stroked the Pomeranian's head.
"Hey, can you summon the owner of this body that has become a living soul here, in a visible form if possible?"
"Mmm... I can't use the tree samchun (uncle) gave me the other day!"
Pomerianian replied cheerfully.
With that, she closed her eyes and began to draw upon her mana.
A natural born black mage.
Her skill at raising dead rats and scarabs with the black magic she'd learned over her shoulder had grown during her time in Baskerville.
Besides.
Tsutsutsutsutsuts...
A black aura rose up behind Pomeranian's back, forming the shape of a tree.
A Wraith Tree.
It was an ancient artifact that Vikir had obtained from the Grave of Swords, one of the few artifact left by the legendary black mage Morg Tzersi.
'Finally it works.'
Vikir nodded.
The Wraith Tree, rooted in the Pomeranian's mind, had sensed her talents and qualities and started to shake its trunk and leaves.
'It had form then, and now it has no form.'
[Originally, the ancient artifact were both form and formless].
Dekarabian interrupted.
Vikir pressed the creature back into his chest and focused on the Pomeranian.
And then.
"Meet me at the entrance to the forest, at the end of the road, under the big tree that was split by lightning!"
Then Demian's eyes widened.
"That's where she was in the carriage accident! At the end of the road, where the big tree was split by lightning!"
"I know, so be quiet."
Vikir gave Demian a glare and turned away again.
Black mana began to gather at the Pomeranian's fingertips.
The power to wield domination over souls, dead or alive.
The leaves, trunks, and roots of the Wraith Tree reached out, calling the living souls from far beyond.
And then, before their eyes, something semi-transparent appeared.
[...what? where?]
Juliet. The tragic heroine appeared.
"Da, daughter!?"
Demian was about to jump out of his seat.
He froze in place.
"What? What a surprise. Sister brought him here."
Pomeranian shook her head.
Tsutsutsutsutsu...
Another soul appeared next to Juliet with a bewildered expression.
It was Romeo.
* * *
[...So that's how it happened].
Juliet nodded.
She looked down at her own body lying on the bed as Demian told her the whole story.
A body that was breathing quietly. But she had lost her love and her soul, and living was no longer living.
Demian knelt in front of Juliet, tears streaming down his face.
"I've done wrong, daughter, and you may never forgive this ugly father for ignoring your feelings and acting so selfishly for no good reason."
[...Rise, father].
Juliet reached out for him. Demian lifted his head involuntarily, drawn to her touch.
Beside her stood Romeo's soul.
Demian offered him his deepest apologies.
"Even if I had ten mouths. I have nothing to say to you. I have been a bad father."
Romeo's eyes widened at the words.
Juliet did the same.
[Father! Are you sure...?]
"Of course, you two are already married. Whether my approval matters to you or not, I choose to think so."
Then tears welled up in Romeo and Juliet's eyes.
[Thank you, father. Thank you!]
"I... I am grateful. For growing so beautifully. For calling your ugly father 'abeonim.'"
Demian poured out his regrets and apologies in a voice that sounded like all his insides were breaking.
Juliet and Romeo nodded and sobbed.
It was an emotional scene as father and daughter, father-in-law and son-in-law, unpacked years of resentment.
"There's no time. Just hurry up and get the job done."
Vikir dismissed the whole thing briefly.
Demian tilted his head in question.
"Wh, what do you mean, no time, my daughter's soul has just returned?"
"Not your daughter's. I mean the man."
At Vikir's words, both Demian and Juliet's gazes turned toward Romeo.
[....]
As it turned out, Romeo hadn't said anything since earlier.
Vikir briefly explained what he had heard from Pomeranian.
"Apparently, the man is completely dead and the woman is half dead, so they can't be together for long. They have been brought here by force from the place of their death, and it is time for them to pass on once and for all."
"What, what! Why are you saying that now?"
"Didn't it matter if I could only summon your daughter's soul?"
"Why doesn't it matter! My son-in-law is going to the other side now!"
"You killed him, why are you telling me?"
Demian's mouth twitched at Vikir's words, unable to argue back.
Pomeranian shook her head.
"You have to go to the other side. That's the way it is. It's the law."
True to his word, Romeo's body blurred with each passing moment.
Unlike Juliet, whose body was still alive.
[...Darling, don't leave me, please, I can't live one bit in a world without you!]
Juliet sobbed into Romeo's arms.
Demian ran his hands through his hair again and cursed himself.
"Alas, I have driven this couple apart again, what a selfish, foolish idiot I am!"
Now Romeo crosses the gates of death and leaves for the other world.
He will never return.
But Juliet, the living soul, cannot follow him.
Her bond with her living body has not yet been severed.
Juliet and Romeo can only caress each other's faces and shed tears of longing.
And Demian is once again deeply regretting his choice to separate his daughter from her life twice.
"I swore I would never... cry for my daughter again... I swore I would never feel the same regret again... Alas, what a greedy pig I am."
Demian thought he was already at the bottom, but there was a basement. The layers of regret are so deep and complex.
Just as Demian was drowning in his own self-pity.
…Tud!
A hand on Demian's shoulder.
Vikir.
Damien turned, and Vikir opened his mouth to speak.
"It's time to let her go."
There are only two places a father will hear these words.
The wedding and the funeral.
In a situation where these two places that should not be related at all are perfectly in sync.
" .... .... ...."
Demian's pupils were shaking more violently than ever before.
–
–
–
t/n:
아버지 (A-beo-ji): Abeoji means father, this call seems more formal and really shows a child's respect for his father
아버님 (A-beo-nim): If there is a call for father that is more formal than abeoji it is abeonim. This nickname is often used by sons-in-law to call their father-in-law.