Genre: Angst, Fantasy

Summary: In between the battle of faith and self discovery, a girl who lived in a village that followed the sun's ways became a believer of the universe-- prompting for a prophecy to be set in motion: the girl shall become a wolf, meet her greatest love, and become a catalyst for change. It would've been an easy task, but to become a wolf in a place where any association to the moon would paint you in a bad light meant imminent danger-- especially with an impending eclipse.

Word Count: 8734

Hashtag: #JinjooFiestaS2_PainterOfTheSky

Painter of the Sky

    It was believed that the sky was ruled by two entities at a constant state of war. One gave warmth, its rays blazing brighter than any other star in the galaxy could. The other, watched silently over a world that’s fast asleep, providing a restful state for tired souls. These entities—the sun and the moon, were pitted against each other by their respective followers as they fought day and night on who shall dominate the skies alone. After all, it has always been presumed that in ruling, there can only be one.

    The terrain was ragged and the cold winds blew stronger than ever through the dense, foggy forest. Amidst it all, darkness has dominated the unknown path. The thick leaves from the trees have made it impossible for the moonlight to penetrate the wholeness of the woods. She uttered an undecipherable word under her breath, feeling beads of cold sweat drip from her forehead down to the side of her face that has slightly felt numb, and to her neck. The freezing air made her feel like her lungs were burning from the inside, her heart banged at the walls of her chest, and the rest of her body pulsated in a rhythmic manner. She was at her physical ends, even the soles of her feet were sore and wounded from the rocky trail—but she couldn’t give up just yet, not when she was reminded of the reason why she’s in the wilderness alone and on the verge of dying.

    “You were chosen,” she whispered to herself out of breath, kneeling on one knee, holding onto her makeshift cane, a wood she picked up on the beginning of her journey at the foot of the mountain. The girl tightened her grip and with the last ounce of energy she has on her, boosted her body up from the ground, ultimately failing and sinking in further on the dry land. The heaviness of the sack stuffed with the specially made textile doubled on her back. She felt her whole body tremble as a ghastly wind flew by, sending the trees to rattle in unison. Finally, the thought of death came across the girl’s mind. There was no way she’d reach the top of the mountain and if she does, she’d be too weak to fight off the presence of an assumed wolf.

    The wolf, she thought, a bitter smile emerged from her quavering lips. A heavy sigh escapes her, and like a luggage that’s been dropped to the ground, the girl gave in to the pull of gravity and fell face first on the glacial lands. Her eyes were starting to lose focus; the sound of nature became muffled by the beating of her heart that seemed so close to her ears, and everything was piercing on her skin. In that moment, all she could think of was the Delegation Day. It was a tradition that the villagers practiced a month before an eclipse where a person is chosen to venture into the woods with a textile that’s been blessed by the elders, the very same fabric that would be offered with the carcass of the wolf that’s been killed to the sun.

    The girl had always been doubtful of living according to the sun’s ways— an act that earned her quite a bad reputation among the townspeople who lived in a village where everyone worshiped the goddess of the sun. She thought it was simply because of their location that winter was constantly present, that it was not because of the two entities that ruled the sky at day and night. She was not a believer, and for that she was given the task to hunt for the wolf on the day of the eclipse. 

    “Save me.” The warmth of her breath fogged up as soon as it met the crisp cold air. She wasn’t quite sure who she was talking to, but her desperation and borderline decline into a delirious state made her utter the words repetitively.

    “Save me,” she gasped again, turning over so that her back was touching the ground and her eyes were looking right up at the sky. In a moment of disillusionment, the girl found herself staring straight into a mirror-like thing in the cosmos, revealing itself in the most magical way possible. It was then that the girl figured that she was looking at the moon, the very thing that everyone in the village was forbidden to marvel at, frightened that they would anger the sun and lose all forms of warmth they know. And suddenly, she realized why it was such an impermissible act. The moon was so immensely beautiful that it would be easy to fall for it the way the villagers fell for the sun. It made sense to the dying girl that these celestial bodies rise and fall because one cannot function solely on its own, a catharsis that has shifted her perspective from being a non-believer to wondering why people couldn’t love and worship both—equally.

    In between life and death, a girl who lived in a village where constant winter led its inhabitants to practice the sun’s ways fell in love with the moon along with the totality of the universe. At last, she thought, she finally found something good to believe in.

    As daybreak approached, the sun saw an opportunity to use the girl’s awakening to become a catalyst for change in the perspective of the villagers who painted her to be a self-centered entity. And so, the hopeful goddess took form in the lands and breathed into the dying girl—casting a spell along with the promise of a prolonged life. Incantations were whispered into her ear, the girl only catching a glimpse of a few words as she slipped in and out of consciousness.

    “Let this be set in motion by everything that governs the Earth and the heavens. You, an enlightened being, shall live your life as a wolf for a thousand years—destined to chase after the very same entity that others feared to show adoration for.” The goddess stopped as the weak girl looked at her with eyes that glistened with tears. Feeling a bit of remorse, she continued to manifest a prophecy. “The taste of mortality shall come to you once again only when a person who behaved like the sun comes to find you. That person is your greatest love; her forthcoming shall be the highest price that you have to pay. And on the day of the next eclipse, you shall turn into a wolf again, meant to bring epiphany for the non-believers of the universe.” The words finished with a resonating sound and in a snap, the girl drew in her longest and deepest breath through , her lungs expanding wider than ever, and her heart regaining its’ almost non-existent beat. Her palms turned into paws, and the hair on her skin grew into a thick silvery white fur, her clothes began to rip as her body grew in size—removing her last traces of being a human. By the time that the transformation was over, the girl was beyond recognizable other than her deep brown orbs that remained to look the same, she was someone else—something else. It wouldn’t be much of a problem to become a wolf, but to be a wolf in a place where any relation to the moon painted you in a terrifying light would mean a completely different scenario.

    Just like the goddess has willed it to be, the wolf howled each night for the moon— wishing for her greatest love to find her, longing for someone her eyes has not laid a look upon on yet. The wolf tirelessly roamed the woods, basking in the sun at day and guiding lost travelers silently within the shadows of the trees at night, never intending to hurt a single soul, careful not to show even just a bit of her existence knowing that being seen meant an imminent danger for her. The days rolled forward, time was constantly running and the girl, despite having the skills of a wolf—its agility and heightened senses, always seemed to fall short in chasing after such an elusive thing. 

    A thousand years later, in the very same village, the wolf still waited for a promised love and cure to the spell. She knew she could have waited a thousand more, but an eclipse was fast approaching and even just the thought of it all was too frightening— until the day that she ceaselessly wished for came on a midnight when the moon was full and illuminated the wholeness of the forest.

    The leaves rustled under the bed of thick snow. There was someone else in the woods, the wolf thought; someone must have been lost again. She stood sturdily over the rocks and sniffed thrice—the smell of lavender, something that was not local to the forest. Hesitant footsteps echoed in her ears somewhere eastward. In one swift motion, the wolf was on the move towards the direction of the sound, in the silence of the night, she moved stealthily and in a minute, she has found another lost traveler—but this one was different. The girl wore thick clothes, something usual for those who passed through the forest—but unlike most, this one didn’t seem to fit the place. She was like a princess who didn’t belong in the picture. The wolf followed the girl closely, keeping an eye out for predators that might harm her, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. A branch breaks under the foot of the girl, her paranoia caused her to shriek and turn abruptly, displacing the hood of her overcoat, revealing her face under the luminescence of the moon. And it was as if the cogwheels that were rusted started to turn again, gaining its momentum, turning everything back into its place. The wolf took in a deep breath, closing her eyes, feeling something shift inside her—like she was being lifted on air. Suddenly, her paws turned into a set of hands and feet, the thick fur vanished, leaving only her smooth and silky skin. In a moment’s discovery, the wolf became a human once more.

    A thudding sound prompted the girl to pick up the first thing she could—a piece of flimsy wood from the bed of snow. “Who’s there?” Her hands trembled at the end of the stick, voice shaking out of the cold and sheer terror, scrambling to put the hood back on—afraid that in the chaos of it all, she might accidently glance at up at the moon. She began to catch her breath; saying prayers inside her head which eventually made her feel dizzy. Another sound came out from the trees, her grasp tightened around a thing she knew could barely protect her, but it was better than being unarmed. The anticipation grew, and then a head suddenly popped out of the thick tree trunk.

    “Hi,” the girl behind the thickets said awkwardly. “I’m Ahn Yujin,” she added. The nervous girl raised both of her eyebrows, shocked to see another human in the dense forest. She was certain for a moment that she was being followed by something else, something not human.

    “Hi,” she responded, gradually lowering the twig but still maintaining distance, “I’m Kim Minjoo, and…” her voice trails, “I’m lost,” a very worried Minjoo stated.

    Yujin smiled brightly, sealing the deal for Minjoo to lower her guard altogether. “Don’t worry, you’re not lost. It’s just that you found me,” the odd girl without a single stitch on her skin replied.

    “Come out of the shadows,” she said, still weary of the peculiar girl’s statement. Yujin easily followed the instruction, stepping out into the moonlight. She was expecting the lost girl to show an awestruck expression, but it was her who was absolutely dumbfounded to see just how beautiful Minjoo was up close. She had found her greatest love, and without any questions asked, Yujin knew what the goddess meant when she said it will be someone who behaved like the sun. True enough, Minjoo brought the light along with her—a force so strong Yujin couldn’t shrug it off.

    She didn’t know how long she was staring until Minjoo spoke, snapping her back into reality. “Aren’t you cold?” Her face looked puzzled, her voice concerned. 

    “Oh!” Yujin prompted, finally realizing how odd the situation must have been for the lost girl. She doesn’t have a single piece of clothing on in a freezing forest. Clearly, she should have been shivering to death by now but she wasn’t. Her blood remained as warm as that of a wolf. “I am,” she lied, trying to throw away any suspicions from the girl.

    “Hold on one second.” Minjoo began to rummage through her bag made out of soft fabric. “Here,” she said, pulling out a piece of brightly colored textile—with patterns that are all too familiar to Yujin.

    The taller girl reached for thick cloth, feeling every inch of the interlacing fibers with the palm of her hands. She gazed at it with poignant eyes, so drawn in a far off memory that she failed to notice that Minjoo had been staring at her.

    “You can still use it; it has not been blessed yet.” She offered the hesitant girl a comforting smile and an encouraging nod.

    “Thank you,” she replied, putting on the drapery over her shoulders, feeling warmer than before. “So, where are you headed?” She asked in an attempt to avoid the imminent wave of questions that Minjoo seemed to have at the back of her mind.

    The trick appeared to have worked based on the lost girl’s reaction. “That’s right,” she remembered, “I have to go the elders on the other side of the mountain to have that sanctified.” Minjoo gestured at the piece of clothing that lazily wrapped around Yujin’s body. “You see, I was chosen on the Del—” 

    “Delegation Day,” Yujin finished her sentence with a knowing tone. This made the other girl even more curious about the stranger in the forest. 

    “How did you know about that?” The perplexity of it all has made her ask in such a way that made her sound like she was too invested. Although, Minjoo couldn’t care less because Yujin is a stranger who would probably forget this short encounter in a matter of days. It has to be known, though, that Minjoo was never good at predicting things.

    “Word of mouth travels fast,” Yujin answered with the safest statement she could come up with. “Do you have any idea why you were chosen?” There was an obvious tone of caution in her voice, afraid that she might be getting too personal.

    “I was the first child in a hundred years to be born on the feast of the sun. Ever since then, and I hate how awkward it sounds when I say it but, I have been called the town’s sunshine.” Minjoo ended her story in almost a whisper, dodging any form of eye contact with the girl she met in the forest.

    Yujin began to beam, her dimples deepened the wider her smile became. The town’s sunshine, she repeated the thought in her mind, no form of nickname could be more fitting than that. Minjoo was undeniably a girl who reflected the sun. The taller girl chuckled which earned a defensive stare from the already embarrassed Minjoo. “Come on,” Yujin said, trying to divert an impending smile, “I’ll show you the way.”

    The two began to walk towards the east, where the sun rose up tirelessly each day. Gradually, their footsteps grew closer together; an indescribable sense of comfort has dawned upon the two strangers who treaded through the heart of the forest. As they went on further, Minjoo faintly looked beneath the hood of her overcoat to catch a glimpse of the taller girl who silently accompanied her. She observed how her long locks flowed gracefully over her shoulders, how her features remained soft under the pale moonlight, and her eyes—those deep brown orbs that seemed so gentle and pure. Minjoo found herself immersed in the presence of the peculiar girl, so much so that when the draped girl finally turned to look at her, she abruptly faced elsewhere, making it obvious that she had been looking way more than she intended.

    Yujin kept a small smile to herself, unable to see just how much Minjoo blushed when she looked over to see if the lost girl was catching up just fine. Soon after, daybreak cracked, and for the first time in a thousand years, the rays of the sun passed through Yujin’s hands like gold—the thought of being human again had only started to sink in, and beside her was her presumed great love, the cure to the bewitchment—the absolute magnificence of it all has made her feel as if she was in a constant state of euphoria. It was like dreaming, only she knew it was real because for the longest time she didn’t see just how beautiful the sunrise was until she saw it reflected in Minjoo’s eyes, bringing out a different kind of universe into life.

    “Can we stop for a moment?” Minjoo sounded a little out of breath. She had not been anywhere outside of her own village where the lands are flat and paths are well maintained. The uneven trail of the forest and the constant cold only made it harder for the girl to push through.

    Yujin stopped in her tracks. “Sure,” she simply answered with a nod and cleared out the ground for them to sit on. It was only then that it occurred to her that they have been traversing the mountain for a few hours. They met at dusk and now the sun had already settled up in the sky, making a canvas filled with ivory. 

Minjoo sat beside her without saying another word. She placed her hands together and closed her eyes, keeping her solitude as she whispered her graces to the goddess. On most days, Minjoo was thankful for the food on the table, the decent amount of harvest in the village, and the warmth and comfort of the sun. But today, she was thankful for one thing—she was thankful for the stranger she met in the middle of the forest. And although she might lose her way again, Minjoo was at peace with the idea that she doesn’t have to get lost alone anymore.

When she was done with talking to the goddess, she turned to see Yujin staring somewhere far off in the distance— as if she was watching a different lifetime unfold right in front of her. Minjoo opened , wanting to ask something but retreating at such a serene sight. She took in a deep breath and followed the direction of Yujin’s stare—the sun. 

A few moments passed and although she tried to stop herself from disrupting the peacefulness of the place, Minjoo was not able to hold in her curiosity any longer. She proceeded to ask, “What were you doing out there?” Her voice was soft and quiet, the birds from the trees had only begun to come out of their nests and the calmness of the whole place blended well with how she spoke.

    Yujin remained silent for a few moments, taking in the question and planning how to answer strategically without having to lie. “I was waiting,” she replied gently, her eyes glued to the horizon.

    “For what exactly?” She asked again, urging the other girl to explain further. The sun was already up in the sky and Minjoo took this as a signal to put the hood of her robe down, revealing her face again.

    This time, Yujin answered without missing a single beat. “For the sun to come,” she said and looked across Minjoo with a meaningful smile on her face. She took in a deep breath and transferred her gaze back to where the sky meets the ground, knowing full well that the questions will only keep on coming. “I see that you’ve put it down.” She gestured over her head and Minjoo knew what Yujin meant.

    “The sun is out,” she prompted, “We’re forbidden to look at the moon,” Minjoo added. Yujin nodded, understanding the statement without any explanation. She remained hushed, allowing the Minjoo to continue speaking. “They said that even a glimpse at the moon could anger the goddess of the sun.” Minjoo’s eyes settled on the snow-covered ground, focusing on the foot marks each step has left behind.

    “They don’t necessarily know what they’re talking about.” Yujin’s reply was enough for Minjoo to dart her stare back to the taller girl’s direction. She was expecting the taller girl to be staring elsewhere still, but when s