Seungwan dies on a moonless night and they find her in the morning, during the first snow, pale and still. She dies sudden and tragic and those left behind lament a life cut far too short.

There’s a howl and red, red eyes and all Seungwan feels is pain. She hears the final notes of her favourite song and then she knows no more.

The next time she opens her eyes, she knows that she is dead. Her body is sprawled on the ground next to her, gaping wound where should be. The snow is stained red, blood contrasting magnificent against the whiteness. Her eyes remain open and in them Seungwan can see the sun. She reaches out to close them and finds that she cannot. Her hands pass through and she feels nothing beneath her fingertips. She holds her hands up to the sun and find that they can cast no shadows. 

Something metallic clinks and Seungwan looks down. There’s a chain protruding from her chest and it’s connected to her corpse. She takes a few steps back and with a sharp snap the chain breaks off.

There’s a scream. Sudden and shrill, it cuts through the morning air. Seungwan blinks slowly.

There are people surrounding her body. She watches them cover her up. She waves her hands in front of numerous faces and finds that they do not react.

“Can anybody see me?” She isn’t particularly hopeful. She knows that she’s dead. And regular people cannot see the dead. Seungwan thinks that she should be panicking or crying or begging on her knees, but all she feels is detachment. Her life is over. Her dreams are dust; her future ash. She knows that she accepted death far too readily.

It’s all over for her. Seungwan has never feared death, only that she’ll waste her life doing things that she hates. She died young. There is no wasted youth to regret.  

Seungwan walks away. She leaves behind unseeing eyes and the girl she used to be. She does not walk home. She does not wish to see the grief that her death brings. If there’s one thing that frightens her now, it’s the people she has left behind.
She walks to the beach and sits to watch the waves. She wonders if they will feel cold.

“There you are. Souls are always wondering off. It took me ages to find you.” Seungwan slowly turns around. There’s a girl in a jacket and trackpants, both black with white highlights. She’s holding a sword. Seungwan blinks twice. The sword is still there.

She did not expect a girl with a sword. She expected some sort of spectral, skeletal grim reaper with a scythe who’d shuffle ominously toward her and claim her soul. Not a girl that’s barely taller than her with blonde hair and pigtails in sportswear.

The girl smiles, revealing gleaming white teeth and a single dimple. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Who knew? The grim reaper is a cute girl. Huh.

“Hello. My name is Kim Taeyeon and I’m a death god. You are recently decreased. Please do not panic. I am here to help you move on. Please do not panic.” Her speech is only a little robotic, otherwise it’s purely professional. Taeyeon seems likes she’s done this before.

She is a death god who is here to help Seungwan move on.

“I’m Son Seungwan. And I know I’m dead.”

“You know? How? Usually people panic and wallow in denial for ages.” Taeyeon says, relieved.

“My dead body was very persuasive. So unless I have a long lost twin and this a very elaborate prank, I’m pretty sure I’m no longer in the land of the living.”    

“Well, you are actually.”

“Actually what?”

“In the land of the living.”

Seungwan doesn’t know how to reply to that. She keeps silent and stares at death god Taeyeon.

“Ok. Right. Just dead. Ok.” Taeyeon looks at her feet for a few minutes, before she inhales deeply and continues, “Ok so. This is earth. Or the human world. The people who live here are alive, so ya know, it’s ‘the land of the living’ and all.”

Seungwan nods. It’s not a difficult concept. Earth is ‘the land of the living’. Because people there are alive.

“When living beings die, their souls leave their bodies. These souls are called pluses. Seungwan, you’re a plus.”

She nods again.

“Now here comes the scary part. That chain is the Chain Of Fate. “ From the way it is said, Seungwan can hear the capitalisation.

“It starts eroding the moment it disconnects from your once living body and when the chain completely erodes away...,” brown eyes sharpen and Seungwan steps back involuntarily, “you become a Minus.” There’s another deep intake of breath before Taeyeon explains. “Minae are created when pluses lose their hearts to despair or regret, or they remain in the human world for too long. There’s a literal hole where their heart should be. It’s pretty depressing stuff. You following?”

“Ok, Minae are ex-Pluses that lost their hearts. Gotcha.” Seungwan didn’t think that the afterlife would be this depressing. Or weird.

“Yup. Oh. They also develop a permanent, insatiable hunger to devour souls, of both the living and dead.” Ok well that’s certainly disturbing. Seungwan does not want to be eaten by a Minus. She also would really prefer to not become a Minus.

"This", Taeyeon says, brings her sword to eye level, “is my soul weapon. It’s used to kill Minae and to perform soul burials. Which sends Pluses to the afterlife.”

Fancy death god sword does soul burials and sends dead people to the afterlife. Seungwan has got this. She sends a weak thumbs up to Taeyeon.

“I’m gonna give you a soul burial now. Here, have a ticket.”

Seungwan is handed a ticket. She is number RV293.

Something suddenly hits her and Seungwan needs an answer. “Heaven or Hell?”

The blonde death god gives a lazy, nonchalant shrug. “Depends on your lifestyle choices I guess. Now hold still.” She draws her sword.

Seungwan swallows nervously. The blade glints in the sun and it looks very, very sharp. To her surprise, Taeyeon turns the hilt towards her and brings raises it to her forehead. She grows cross-eyed looking at the now glowing hilt. She closes her eyes and hopes for the best. There’s a gentle tap on her forehead and warmth suffuses her body.

Seungwan opens her eyes and she can no longer see the waves.

After her burial and subsequent arrival at the afterlife Seungwan learns few things.

It is called Seoul Society. It’s not hell, but it’s not exactly heaven. There’s Seoul City, the home of regular dead people and Soul Middle, the home of death gods.

People can live up to a thousand years. Aging is delayed. People do not need to eat. All in all, it is not an unpleasant afterlife.

The people here look like the people back home. They wear the same clothes and talk about the same things. Occasionally, there are bright flashes of light and a new soul would appear, usually looking dazed and confused. She realises that the people are always looking.

They search for friends and they search for family and they all inevitably fail. They need matching tickets and those are rare. At night, weeping can be heard from every direction and it breaks Seungwan’s heart.   

Seungwan wanders with the rest. She travels from District to District, trying to find a familiar face.

There’s a thrum in her veins, a song in her blood that screams to be sung. It woke the moment she arrived in the afterlife and it itches beneath her skin.  As she heads from places to place it continues.

She spends her days ignoring the song and looking for someone familiar. It is an aimless existence and she feels the self-loathing well up at the thought of not wanting more for herself. Her old dreams no longer exist and she does not allow herself to dream anew, not when her blood hungers for something unknown.

It changes when she gets hungry.

Regular souls are not supposed to feel hunger and she has no idea why she’s feeling it at all.

And then she meets Taemin. She’s heard all about him, but she’s never actually met him. Taemin is a death god recruiter.

He explains that she has high spiritual power and that’s why she has hunger gnawing at her heels. And that hunger is a sign that she has the potential to become a death god.

Seungwan doesn’t particularly want to be a death god. And that’s when Taemin mentions that people who experience hunger will die without nourishment. Seungwan changes her mind.

She applies for the Death God Academy entrance exam. She’ll either pass or she’ll starve. Neither are particularly attractive options.

She passes the exam and gains entrance to Seoul Middle.

There’s five classes with twenty students each. The highest scoring recruits are placed in first class. Seungwan manages to gain a place in the third class, she’s pretty average for a recruit. The written exam had been easy. It was the spiritual pressure test that she had trouble with.  

She has a lot of power and absolutely terrible control. Other applicants had been dead for years and had a head start on controlling their power. Seungwan has only been dead for a month. Still, being a death god recruit has some advantages, it means that she gets three meals a day and lodging, so it’s a step up form slumming on the street and starving to death.

Her room is small and spartan. There’s a bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and a trunk to hold her belongs. There’s a uniform provided. Grey shorts, grey trackpants, grey jacket and a a navy jersey. It’s a hideous uniform, it’s designed for mobility and defence and has the looks to reflect it.

If she graduates the Academy, she’ll be allocated a divisions of the Middle Guards, the military power of Seoul Society. It’s a stable, almost lifelong commitment that has rewarding dividends and Seungwan thinks that it is a worthy career path.

The academy has five classes: hand-to-hand combat, agility, spirit arts, swordsmanship, and power control. Seungwan has three two hour classes per day.

By the second week, she already knows that she is dreadful at spirit control and spirit arts, average at hand-to-hand and surprisingly good at agility and swordsmanship.

They do not start with soul weapons.

All academy students must learn swordplay without exception. It is the easiest weapon to teach a cohort. Any other weapons of interest are to be studied independently. They’re given a selection of wooden practice blades to choose from.

Seungwan did not know that there were this many types of blades. Katanas, rapiers, hook swords, long swords, cutlasses, she tries them all and still can’t find a perfect fit. Instructor Park explains that the best weapon is a natural extension of one’s limbs and that one’s future soul weapon would take the most appropriate form.

Seungwan does not know. She has not found it.

The blade that feels almost natural is the Chinese saber and that is when Seungwan falls in love with of the dance of steel.

She practices her swordplay on her days off, heading to an oft empt training field on the outskirt of the academy grounds. She dances through the change of seasons. The green fades and the leaves fall, and still Seungwan practices.

When she’s immersed in swordplay, the world is silent and her blood is calm. There’s no wild call to answer or that something that sears through her veins. Each movement is practiced and graceful and Seungwan desperately awaits the day she receives her own soul weapon.

She wants to dance with a perfect partner, wants to move like she’s not holding a weapon at all.

Seungwan does not have goals at the moment. She has no concrete plans for the future. She knows that she will graduate and join one of the Middle Guard Divisions.

The 11th Division of the Middle Guards specialises in melee combat. And only melee combat. She knows that she has the aptitude for swordplay that would see her accepted, but she’s unsure of limiting herself to melee combat for the rest of her career.

She might not be particularly adept at the spirit arts, with her absolutely abysmal power control, but it’s a very versatile skill set and she doesn’t want to discount it just yet.

Sooyoung, her hand-to-hand sparring partner likes to talk when they spar. She talks to distract, she talks to charm, she talks to gain some sort of advantage.

It turns out that the soul weapons that death gods have are not always sword shaped. Seungwan had assumed wrong. They are a physical manifestation of soul and reflect the bearer. In fact, they are literally a fragment of a death god’s soul.

Sooyoung tells her this in order to distract her and it works. Apparently in order to manifest your soul weapon, you need to stab yourself with a special knife. Seungwan had been shocked still, and Sooyoung had capitalised on it with a crescent kick. She ended up with a headache that lasted for a week and a fear of special soul rending knives.

Sooyoung is Seungwan’s first friend. She thinks that being able to beat each other black and blue might be one of the reasons their friendship has progressed so fast and so smoothly. You can’t stay angry with someone that you fight three times a week. They work tension out through their fists, revelling in blood, sweat, and tears.

After their spars, they both experience a bone-deep ached and the euphoria that comes with satisfactory self-employment.  

Park Sooyoung is also a noble. Sooyoung tells her that her family specialise in hand-to-hand combat and that she’s been throwing punches since she could reach the targets.

Both her parents are in the 6th Division, where there’s a focus on hand-to-hand combat. Sooyoung tells Seungwan that she too wishes to join.

Sooyoung is taller and stronger, with a longer reach that gives her an often abused advantage. There’s power in her limbs and the confidence in her form speaks of hours in the training ring. Her moves are sharp and polished and Seungwan tells her as much. She prowls with the grace of wolves and Seungwan finds that she likes the wildness in her eyes. Sooyoung is a force of nature and she refuses to be tamed.

When she asks for an analysis of her skills and tips on how to improve, she tells Seungwan that her combat style combines gracefulness and brutality in perfect measure and it is awe inspiring to watch.

Seungwan blushes and stammers and thanks her sincerely.

There are various other noble families that reside in Seoul Middle. It matters little to Seungwan, she knows no others and she doesn’t not intend to. Sooyoung explains to her that the Big Four influence the Great Council and have sway over the Academy.

They also have a disproportionate number of Middle Guard captains.

The Big Four: The Kims, The Baes, The Jungs and The Moons, their blood guarantees prestige and power and Seungwan is only a little envious.

The Big Four have produced living legends, peerless powerhouses and heroes are that immortalised in song. Within the Middle Guards and the Great Council, the majority of memorable names are from those families. Those who have talent are discovered young and their potential carefully nurtured. Even nobles from lesser houses have decades of experience when compared to the average Seoul City recruit.

Seungwan tries not to be bitter. The resources and backing of nobles families guarantees a headstart and support that she will never achieve.

Seungwan thinks that the Academy recruits are far too obsessed with members for the Big Four and care too little about their martial prowess. She focuses on her studies and swordplay and ignores all the rumours that swirl around them.

She does not change her mind. Until it is unknowingly changed for her.

She’s in her field facing a tree, one of the rare times she attempts to refine her spirit arts. She’s attempting to practice the Art of the Binding Rope. Seungwan is suppose to generate an energy rope with her hands and throw it at the enemy to immobilise them. It’s the second easiest art to learn and she still hasn’t mastered it.

Seungwan can get the energy to crackle around her hands and elongate, but she can never maintain its form. The frustration that’s been churning inside finally spills out and Seungwan finds herself slamming both fists against the tree.

There’s a sharp sting and pain radiates from her hands. She pulls them back and observes. The skin over her knuckles have split, blood seeping from the torn skin. Seungwan clenches her fist tightly, ignoring the whiteness of her knuckles and the pain that it brings.

It is not the failure that enrages her. It’s the lack of success. Seungwan has failed many things, but eventually she gets it right. After weeks of practice, she mastered the Art of Restraint. Weeks of wrestling her power under control and neglecting everything else. Her swordsmanship and agility hadn’t suffered, and the regular bouts with Sooyoung had actually improved her hand-to-hand combat.

But Seungwan will not be satisfied.

Compared to her other skills, her control and spirit arts are pathetic. She needs to improve, she needs to excel, and she does not know how. She lacks the patience and the experience for the spirit arts.

She drives her fists into the tree, again and again, until slender fingers grip her wrist and force her to stop. Seungwan tries to retract her hand and realises that she cannot.

There’s a girl in a death god uniform. The girl has a deceptively powerful grip that she cannot break. Seungwan knows that she is stronger. She is a fully-fledged death god and Seungwan is just an academy student.

“Can I please have my hand back?” Seungwan snaps out. She tries to sound civil and finds that she can’t. Her blood has been boiling for days and there is no respite.

“That depends, are you going to keep abusing your knuckles?” Her voice is huskier than Seungwan had assumed and it stirs something in her chest.

“No. Not if you return my hand. You could probably stop me anyway.”

The iron grip around her wrist vanishes and Seungwan pulls her hand back. The death god moves back to sit cross-legged on the grass. Seungwan flicks her eyes up and down, rapidly cataloging what she sees.

The girl looks about her age, which doesn’t help. Considering the people in Seoul Society age slower and can control the rate of ageing, she could be anything from twenty to five hundred.

She’s pale, much paler than the average Seoul City dweller and her features are sharp. Seungwan assumes that she’s a noble.  She moves with a poise that can only be the result of a noble upbringing. And Seungwan knows that she is strong. Much stronger than her slight frame and pretty face let on.

“Are you done staring?” Even her pronunciation is perfect. She sits there, serene and unyielding.

She is definitely a noble. If Sooyoung is a wolf, spirited and just a tad too fierce, this girl is a serpent, all coiled grace and hidden power.

Suddenly, Seungwan is irrationally angry. She hears wardrums of blood in her ears, wants to bloody and bruise that perfect face.

“I’m not done.” It’s growled out and she feels the vibrations in , can almost imagine the feel of pale flesh beneath her teeth.

The girl’s lips curl with amusement and Seungwan sees a flash of of something darker light up those eyes for a moment. It sends a hot stab of excitement into her spine.

“Good.” She raises a well-groomed eyebrow and tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Give me both your hands and I won’t stop you from staring.”

Stop her from staring. If Seungwan didn’t know that she was the weaker of the two, she would be offended, but she is not strong enough to deny her. Some day, she’ll be strong enough.

“And who exactly am I staring at?” She stretches both hands in front of her and waits.

“Joohyun.” She looks amused, like there’s a secret she knows and refuses to share.

Joohyun brings her hands close to her face and stares at the knuckles. “You’re lucky you only broke the skin. Be glad that there aren’t any splinters of wood embedded in your hand, otherwise it’s going to take forever to fix.” She shuffles forward so that their knees are almost touching and places Seungwan’s hands in her lap. Her hands glow a soothing green and she waves them over Seungwan’s. Warmth glides over her hands and when Joohyun pulls back, Seungwan is met with unblemished skin.

“Thank you.” It’s less of a grunt and more sincere than Seungwan intended. "Seungwan.” She says, curtly.

“Pardon?”

“That’s my name. Seungwan.”

Joohyun smiles again.

There’s teeth and a taunt and she tries not to rise to the bait.

“Do you want to fight me, Seungwan?”