7 - The Horror from the Deep
1183 Words
Something moved beyond the storm clouds —
something darker, vaster, more ancient than anything Jung-won had ever known.
It wasn’t simply black.
It was an absence, a tearing hole in the fabric of the world itself.
Looking at it felt like staring into a blind spot in her own mind —
a place her heart and soul recoiled from.
A dread unlike anything she had ever felt gripped her.
A primal fear older than memory, older than humanity, flooded through her veins.
This was no mere enemy.
This was a doorway straight to hell.
How can we fight this? Even Ryūjin — even his warriors — seemed powerless before the rising horror.
Jung-won’s breath caught — but then she forced herself to move, to think, to act.
“We have to close the portal, Chang!” she shouted, her voice hoarse with desperation.
She stumbled across the rain-slicked deck toward him.
Giving up was not an option.
Not now.
Chang’s face — usually so fearless, so cunning — was pale.
For the first time since she’d met him, he looked uncertain.
“You’re right, Fledgling,” he said grimly, “but I doubt we have the power.”
Jung-won’s mind raced.
The memory of the third soul orb flared inside her like a torch.
“We still have the soul sphere — the one from Otochitonomoigane-sama!”
Chang stiffened, horror flashing across his face.
“No! If we use it... she’ll die.”
He lowered his gaze, rain streaking his face like tears.
“What do you mean?”
“Her soul is inside. If we release it here — in this battle — it will never find its mortal body again.
She’ll be lost... forever.”
For a moment, he was silent — only the thunder answered.
Then, with bitter finality, he roared:
“Fall back! Fall back!
The gods must decide the fate of this world.”
But Jung-won’s blood burned with defiance.
She would not stand back and watch hope die.
“No!” she cried.
Without thinking, she lunged forward, tore the bag from Chang’s side, and sprinted to the bow of the Red Nighthawk.
“Fledgling, don’t!” Chang shouted behind her, but it was too late.
Her fingers found the seal —
and she twisted it open.
The third sphere cracked apart in a blaze of silver light.
The monstrous amphibians recoiled at once, shrieking, as the light swept over the sea.
Before Jung-won’s astonished eyes, the figure of Otochitonomoigane-sama emerged, radiant and shimmering.
She hovered above the ship, serene and powerful —
and as she turned her gaze on Jung-won, she smiled.
In that instant, Jung-won understood.
This was not just the high priestess of the Ryūkyū Islands.
This was something far older.
“Chang…” she whispered, her voice trembling, “this is Toyotama-hime.”
Chang’s head snapped up, his face filled with awe.
Toyotama-hime — daughter of Ryūjin, granddaughter of the sea itself,
and, according to legend, the grandmother of the first emperor of Nippon.
Jung-won knew she would carry the memory of this moment to her grave.
Before their eyes, Toyotama-hime’s form shifted —
from a woman draped in light to a majestic water dragon, her scales gleaming silver-white against the black storm.
She rose into the sky, coiling around her father, Ryūjin, their two dragon forms swirling together in a breathtaking, radiant spiral.
Their combined power flared.
A beam of pure white light lashed out from their forms, striking the heart of the swirling black portal.
The forces met — light against darkness — and the very air screamed with the clash.
For a terrible moment, the balance held —
but the darkness fought back, refusing to yield.
Chang, recovering his senses, roared:
“Everyone — aim for the portal!
Now!”
The pirates turned their weapons away from the amphibian invaders and aimed them squarely at the hell-gate.
Gunfire erupted, beams of fire and magic mingling with the divine light.
Jung-won, heart hammering, lifted her own weapon and fired into the swirling abyss.
The forces combined — mortal and immortal — striking against the blackness again and again.
Slowly — agonizingly — the darkness began to retreat.
Not by leaps, but by tiny, hard-won inches.
A finger-width at a time.
And then the Shīsā moved.
Their bodies, once solid, were growing more transparent by the second — but they hurled themselves toward the portal with one final, furious charge.
Mouths open in a silent roar, claws extended, they leapt into the heart of the storm.
Jung-won screamed and fired her revolver again and again, emptying round after round at the amphibian creatures nearest the swirling gate.
She could feel it — they were so close.
Just a little more!
The two Shīsā, blazing like living stars, hurled themselves into the vortex.
White light and black energy collided, twisted, merged.
The heavens split with a sound like the end of the world.
Bolts of lightning ripped the clouds apart —
and then, all at once—
—silence.
The portal snapped shut with a final shudder that rattled the very bones of the earth.
For a heartbeat, everything was frozen.
Then a mournful wail rose across the waters — the cry of a defeated army.
The remaining amphibian creatures stood motionless, their will broken.
One by one, they fell beneath the swift spears of the naga and the gunfire of the pirates, offering no further resistance.
The clouds rolled back.
The rain ceased.
The heavy, dark-green waters stilled, as if the very sea were sighing in relief.
Above the deck of the Red Nighthawk, Toyotama-hime floated down, her silver-white dragon form gleaming like a beacon in the washed-clean sky.
She hovered gracefully, then shifted —
taking once more the form of the serene, smiling woman Jung-won had first met.
“I will stay with my father for a while,” she said softly, her voice carrying across the deck.
Jung-won, heart still pounding from battle, stepped forward.
“And what about Otochitonomoigane-sama?” she asked hesitantly.
Toyotama-hime’s smile was gentle.
“Chang was right.
Now that I have returned to my true form, the mortal body of the high priestess has perished.
But do not mourn — it is what she chose, and what she desired.”
Her luminous eyes met Jung-won’s, and for a moment, time itself seemed to stand still.
“You are special, Jung-won,” Toyotama-hime said.
“Know this: the world of the gods will always be kind to you.
Because it was you who brought Chang and my father together today — and thanks to you, a nightmare was averted.”
Jung-won bowed her head, tears stinging her eyes.
But she still had one hope burning inside her.
“Please, Toyotama-hime,” she began, her voice trembling, “I’m looking for someone…”
The water dragon laughed — a light, bell-like laugh, just as Otochitonomoigane-sama had laughed.
It was the laughter of rain falling on lotus leaves, the laughter of a world being reborn.
“Look for yourself, child,” she said, lifting her hand.
- Writer
