Honbul: Flame of the Soul

“What the hell are you talking about? That child is my grandson! My own grandson!”

That day, Seonoh woke to Elder Yoon shouting at the top of his lungs.

“Sir, what are you even saying? You have no family, and now suddenly you have a grandson? How is someone legally unfit supposed to raise a child? This is child abuse, sir. Child abuse!”

Seonoh pushed aside the filthy curtain and peered outside.

Elder Yoon was arguing fiercely with a city official, while the social worker inspected the yard. Seonoh watched her toss a black bag over the wall.

Fuming, Elder Yoon chased them away, then left the house dragging his cart behind him.

Seonoh pretended to stay asleep. Only after making sure everyone was gone did he quietly step outside and open the bag the social worker had °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° left behind.

It was filled with Choco Pies, gummies, and candies.

The ghosts lined up in front of Seonoh with expectant smiles.

“...”

After that day, the social worker began visiting once a week.

After lunch, whenever he heard her voice outside the gate calling, “Hey, kid,” Seonoh would run to the window, pull back the curtain, and look out.

The social worker would check whether the snack bag she had left last time was gone, then linger there for a while, waiting to see if Seonoh would come out. When he did not, she would toss a new bag of snacks over the wall and leave.

Seonoh did not dislike it.

He was not sure whether what he did not dislike was the snacks, or the social worker.

Then, one day, three months after she had first peered over the wall—

“Grandpa is sick.”

For the first time, Seonoh broke the promise he had made to Elder Yoon.

Winter was coming.

The old man had been coughing for almost a month without stopping. A few times, he had even coughed up blood. Even so, he went out every day with his cart, collecting strange scraps and garbage.

Seonoh was afraid he might die.

But Seonoh had never once left the house, so he had no idea what to do.

“I see. I’ll take your grandfather to the hospital tomorrow. He’ll get better soon.”

The social worker looked startled when Seonoh finally spoke, but quickly collected herself and reassured him. She said she would come back the next day with other social workers and take Elder Yoon to the hospital.

Hearing that he would soon get better, Seonoh felt relieved.

“But why haven’t you spoken until now?”

“Grandpa told me not to.”

“Why?”

“Because... he said the Naja would come...”

The social worker paused, then asked with a puzzled expression.

“Naja? What are Naja?”

After thinking for a moment, Seonoh began to speak slowly, his voice hesitant.

He said he did not know exactly, only that they were frightening and bad. He explained why Elder Yoon never let him go outside, why he was not allowed to speak, and that Elder Yoon was afraid of the Naja.

The social worker was the only person who had cared about Seonoh in all those months.

She was the only person he could ask for help.

The social worker listened quietly, deep in thought.

“Hmm. That’s all because your grandfather is sick. Once he gets treatment, he’ll be all right. I’ll help you. When your grandfather gets better, you’ll be able to go to school too.”

Her voice was kind.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts or Naja. Your grandfather was only saying strange things because he’s ill.”

She assured him that ghosts and Naja did not exist, that it was all because Elder Yoon was sick.

But Seonoh could not understand what she meant.

“Then what is this?”

Seonoh raised his hand and pointed to the water ghost standing behind him.

“...Huh?”

The social worker looked in the direction he was pointing.

“There are six more inside the house.”

“...What? What are you talking about...?”

As the social worker’s face slowly stiffened at the absurd turn in the conversation, a menacing voice rang out.

“You... Who are you talking to?”

Elder Yoon stood at the end of the alley, his face terrifying.

“Uh, kid... I’ll come back tomorrow...”

The social worker took one look at Elder Yoon and quickly ran off.

***

That night, Seonoh was beaten badly and locked in a dark room.

He stared at the bright full moon shining through the window.

Inside the dark room, a folding screen with a shamanic painting stood against one wall.

The room where Seonoh had been locked was the cleanest room in the house. Elder Yoon had made it into a small shrine, where he sometimes offered incense and water. Beneath the folding screen stood a small chest of drawers, with a bowl of rice and a single lit candle placed on top.

Sometimes Elder Yoon prayed in this room, crying, “O heavenly spirits!”

Several days had already passed since Seonoh had been locked inside the shrine room.

It was not the first time.

Whenever he bullied the ghosts, or whenever Elder Yoon caught him out in the yard, he was punished. Each time, Elder Yoon flew into a rage and locked him in the shrine room.

But usually, it lasted only half a day.

He had never been locked up this long before.

Several times, Seonoh had tried turning the doorknob. He had even pounded on the door until his hands ached, but it would not open.

So he gave up.

He already knew why the door would not open.

His grandfather had stuck another talisman on it.

When he placed his hand against the door, he could feel a faint warmth. That was the force of the talisman.

Elder Yoon always placed a talisman on the front gate before leaving the house. Whenever he stuck one to a door, some strange force seemed to block it shut.

No matter what Seonoh did, he could not get out.

No matter how hard he pushed, the door would not budge. No matter how loudly he screamed, his voice would not reach the outside.

Strangely, though, he did not feel hungry or cold in the shrine room.

The room was oddly cozy and warm, and it made him drowsy.

With sleepy eyes, Seonoh blinked at the shamanic painting and watched the shadows ripple in the candlelight.

He could no longer tell how many days had passed.

As his consciousness blurred, Seonoh wondered if Elder Yoon might have died.

Is Grandpa really that sick? If that person was right...

Usually, Seonoh waited for the days when Elder Yoon’s eyes became clear.

Until then, all he could do was read books.

Books were Seonoh’s only friends, and his only window into the world beyond the house.

The ghosts knew he liked books.

Sometimes they rummaged through the trash and brought him new ones.

Then Seonoh would lie in the small room and read, over and over again.

Is my Seonoh here?

Before long, the Elder Yoon that Seonoh knew would return.

With clear eyes, Elder Yoon would clean the filthy room. He would lovingly wash Seonoh with warm water, prepare meals from food that had not spoiled, and carefully comb his long, tangled hair with a fine-toothed comb before tying it back.

Sometimes he sat Seonoh on his lap, opened a dictionary, and taught him classical characters, or showed him how to play Korean chess.

Seonoh was very smart.

He never forgot anything he was taught, and he could read not only ordinary writing, but classical characters as well.

Whenever Seonoh beat him at chess, or remembered difficult characters after only seeing them a few times, Elder Yoon would be overjoyed.

“You’re a prodigy. A genius.”

Then, as a reward, he would pull a candy from somewhere.

Whenever Elder Yoon brought out the jar labeled Parlor Candy, Seonoh’s heart would start racing.

He loved candy.

He wanted to eat it every day.

But he could not.

It was a precious treat he could only have when Elder Yoon’s eyes were clear.

Seonoh would slowly melt the candy in his mouth.

Then, on purpose, he would ask Elder Yoon where he had come from.

The old man would laugh heartily and tell him the made-up story again and again.

It was a story Seonoh loved to hear.

“One day, I went up the mountain to cut branches. Then I heard a baby crying somewhere. I wondered where the sound was coming from, so I looked around. Strangely enough, it was coming from underground. So I dug into the earth, and I found a tombstone. On it was written the character for ‘wait.’ I thought that was strange, so I moved the tombstone aside. And beneath it, there was a coffin! When I opened it, my Seonoh was sleeping inside. My Seonoh was a gift from heaven.”

Seonoh loved Elder Yoon when he called him a gift.

And—

Seonoh hated Elder Yoon.

“...”

Sleepiness swept over him again.

Seonoh lay on his side on the floor and was just about to drift off.

“Hehe. Fool. Hehehe.”

Then a voice came from somewhere.

It was a voice he had never heard before.

Seonoh slowly opened his eyes.

Even when he moved only his gaze, all he could see was the shamanic painting lit by the dim candlelight.

Thinking he must have imagined it, he tried to close his eyes again.

“Hehehe. Hehe. Fool. Idiot.”

The voice came again.

Seonoh forced himself to sit up.

Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he looked at the shamanic painting.

The bearded deity painted there was smiling down at him.

Its face twisted, features warping, before settling back into its gentle smile.

“Who’s there?”

Seonoh asked softly, almost in a whisper.

But by then, the deity in the painting had returned to its original expression.

As Seonoh studied the shamanic painting carefully, his gaze caught on something.

A black snake was slithering out from behind the deity’s shoulder.

Seonoh’s eyes widened in wonder.

“Hehe. Fool. Idiot.”

There was no doubt.

The snake in the painting was speaking.