The Goddess of Peace knew no Peace, unless she was with her favorite human. The Goddess Irene, hidden among the chaotic and greedy pantheon of gods and goddesses, sought no reason to torture humans or to punish them. Partially because humans, to her, had never been cruel to her. Mostly because her favorite woman in the world was a human.

A mortal.

A human who slept under the blanket of the stars, a light traveler that hid within the thick forest and slept soundly by the lulling waterfalls, the quiet ponds, or the small currents that led to waterfalls. Not a care in the world for the possible group of bandits cruising on by, not a care in the world for the hungry animal on the prowl for an unsuspecting prey. Truthfully, Seulgi looked beautiful while she slept. Ethereal like the beauty of the moon, delicate like the flow of water, and Irene was fascinated by this human. This human that always brought an offering to the Goddess of Peace. For this human only wanted to travel and see the different ways and colors of the setting sun, the different temperatures and the vast cultures and traditions across the known world. 

Every night, when the human wasn’t looking, Irene materialized with her mortal vessel – a body so celestial that it could not be seen by anyone. Skin white as snow, soft and untattered by the trials of the tough life in this primitive world, emerald eyes full of peace and raven black hair like obsidian stone, glistening with health. A body too perfect to be human. But while Kang Seulgi slept, ensconced on the hard ground of the earth, covered by a thick blanket to combat the night wind, Irene watched with a curious glance. Her hand merely hovering over the humans’ head and mimicking to caress her, watching Seulgi’s body visibly loosen up more and almost smile at the sensation of peace. All good dreams, dreams that would fix any soreness or wound of the soul. 

Every night, without fail, Irene would sit beside the human and quietly watch over her.

And just before the first few rays of sunlight, Seulgi would stir awake to find no one was around her, not even a soul. Irene would return to her realm and feel the unease of wanting to be with her beloved, but too careful of her presence as a goddess to even dare to try. Unlike the other gods, she was not obsessed with the human, but loved her so that she left her alone. Other gods would madly keep their fascinations in their grasp, subjecting them to a strange torment for a love they could not undo.

Irene merely watched Seulgi with a fond eye, and left her be. A goddess in love with a human, a mortal with a fickle life – the sands of their time limited and always flowing, never to be stopped. Once it ran out, Irene would never see her beloved ever again. As much as it hurt, Irene subjected herself to that unpeaceful torment, in order to preserve the peace of a human who brought peace to others with her deeds. It was a sacrifice that the childish gods would not endure, not when the yearning was as tortuous as this one. But Irene knew better than to be the sole cause of Chaos. The humans loved her, and to torment a human for her own benefit went against everything she had stood for.

So, she watched Seulgi inch closer and closer to her timely demise on earth. A death brought by the natural circumstances of a traveler, ending on the wrong side of a natural disaster, or maybe the peaceful presence of the Goddess would not be a blanket enough to fend off a hungry animal in the darkness of the night, as Seulgi sleeps heavily and confident. We couldn’t know how Seulgi was going to die, but Irene knew so. 

The Goddess Irene, the matron of peace, would ironically not know peace in order to preserve it.