Page 35 of The Darkest Night

Mae shared a stunned glance with Ryu.

Since Korean history wasn’t taught in the U.S. education system, their father had enrolled them in private Korean language and literature evening classes when they were kids. They knew all about the turbulent past of the Korean Peninsula, from the inception of its first kingdom in the 7th century B.C. to the 20th century war that tore it into two nations a mere hundred years ago. The geopolitical, cultural, and scientific achievements of the dominant dynasties meant that time had long been seen as the golden age of prosperity during which Buddhism thrived.

Mae swallowed, the ramifications of this revelation echoing through her.

“Does that mean the Jee family used magic to reign over their empires?” Ryu asked, pale-faced.

“That I do not know,” Ye-Seul said. “If they did, it was never practiced openly, nor written down in any historical documents. But it is not the Jee family that I truly wish to tell you about.”

Chapter 17

“It isn’t?”Mae mumbled.

“No,” Ye-Seul replied with a gentle smile. “I wish to tell you the story of Ran Soyun, the Jee family’s ancestor.”

And so, she spoke. Of a woman of incomparable strength and spirit, born in a time of strife and terror, in an Eastern kingdom ruled by war. Of the demon who sought her presence and made a pact with her, in which she promised him her soul in exchange for the arcane knowledge he would teach her to make her the very first witch on Earth. Of a love story that should never have been but was. Of the child born of their union, a being of unimaginable power destined to rule the magic world in her father’s stead. Of the tragedy that befell the couple and their newborn daughter, and the Sorcerer King who gathered a monstrous army to destroy their kingdom and murder the infant before she could take her very first steps.

Ye-Seul studied the remains of the stupa, her expression melancholic. “But though he succeeded in destroying the child’s body, the Sorcerer King could not—”

“—annihilate her soul,” Violet quoted in a dull voice. The witch sat down heavily at Mae’s desk, her face pale. “And so, the child’s spirit lingered in limbo, neither alive, nor quite dead.”

“But the Fates had one last trick up their sleeves,” Miles recited slowly, his complexion similarly ashen. “As the first witch breathed her last breath and Azazel was forced back to the depths of Hell, the child’s soul found a place to hide on Earth. And she vowed that she would be reborn again in the future—”

“—once her body returned to this realm, in the never-ending cycle of death and reincarnation. And she would seek revenge on her enemy and his brethren, and retake her throne,” Ye-Seul finished quietly. Her eyes gleamed as she appraised Violet and Miles. “I see you know your history well.”

“It’s the first thing anyone with magic learns,” Violet confessed in a heavy tone, her expression gaunt.

“So, the first witch’s name was Ran Soyun?” Miles asked in a strained voice.

“Indeed,” Ye-Seul said sagely. “And her husband’s name was Azazel?”

“He was a fallen angel and the Third Leader of the Grigori.” Miles hesitated. “He was said to be the most skilled at magic in all of the Heavens.”

Blood rushed in Mae’s head, a pounding that filled her world. She recalled the vision she had witnessed that tragic night, when the crimson storm had torn through her.

“I saw it.” Her nails bit into her palms. “The army of monsters that destroyed that kingdom. I saw the memories of that—that child!”

Violet’s eyes rounded. “What? You never mentioned this before!”

Mae bit her lip. “I thought—I was losing my mind.”

Tense silence befell them.

Ye-Seul laid a hand on Mae’s clenched knuckles. “What did you see?”

Mae’s stomach churned. She took a deep breath and spoke falteringly of what she had experienced that night in the autopsy lab.

“I saw Azazel and Ran Soyun,” she confessed past the heavy lump in her throat. “I’m pretty sure it was them. I—” She paused and swallowed. “I could tell how much they loved their daughter and what they sacrificed to try and save her.” She looked unseeingly at the floor, the images of the massacre she had witnessed playing before her eyes once more. Pressure weighed her down, so thick she feared it would crush her heart. Her tone grew in strength and fury. “I saw my kingdom burn and my people die!”

Violet’s alarmed shout tore across the room. “Mae!”

Mae blinked. She froze, awareness returning, the voice that had left her lips echoing inside her skull.

A crimson haze had filled the bedroom, the air shivering violently as if in the grip of a storm. Every object that wasn’t nailed down had levitated into the air, including her grandmother and sister, Violet and Miles, and the three familiars.

Brimstone air-walked down onto her lap, his orange eyes aglow with power and his expression calm. He touched his forehead against hers, the pentagram pendant warming their flesh where it pressed between their bodies.

Breathe.

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