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YEJI
Daughter of Zeus
The last that Yeji remembered was clawing her way towards the surface, gasping for air, doing her best to stay afloat before eventually being outweighed by a huge wave she didn’t see coming.
And she still felt like the saltwater had filled her lungs, her arms and legs sore, but she wasn’t in a storm anymore. Yeji wheezed and churned, but she managed to process the view of trees, a bright blue canvas above her, and white sand nearby. It was the exact opposite of the storm she and her teammates had experienced earlier.
At first she thought their group of demigods had managed to get her out of the monstrous ocean, escape the storm, and flee to somewhere safe—at least, it looked safe as of now—but then she frowned when she realized she was alone.
Yeji felt a throbbing pain in her head, and a familiar feeling tugging at her gut, then it made its way onto her throat. Yeji rolled over and vomited whatever what was left of her stomach before coughing, still not feeling good about her almost death experience earlier. This made her feel weaker, and she found her legs buckling as she struggled to stand up. She doesn’t have time to stand idly by. She should find help, know where she is, then know how to get back to her friends. Who knows? Maybe they were already back in the camp, thinking she’d already died.
That left a somewhat bitter taste in her mouth. They just finished their quest—Yuna was more than ready to eat pizzas, Ryujin wanted to sit comfortably in her bunk in Cabin 6 and continue reading this book she bought from a thrift store, and Lia had been ecstatic to share the song she had recently composed over campfire—everyone was cheering, but then that storm came, and if they thought Yeji had died drowning…
Yeji sucked in a sharp breath. She wasn’t going to let them think that. She wanted to see her best friends again, celebrate with them after everything.
But still, when she tried standing up, her vision started to double as her legs refused to function.
It must’ve been exhaustion, but her now blurry eyesight caught a glimpse of a brunette running towards her. The said brunette wore a simple sleeveless tunic dress with a golden belt around the waist. Even with Yeji hazily seeing the other’s face, she could immediately conclude that the other was pretty.
Yeji barely had time to stare and gawk, though, before she felt the girl press a cloth against her forehead. Before she could react, a spoon was pressed against her lips, and soon enough she felt liquid trickle down her throat, some of it tracing down her chin. The girl seemed to smile at this, a smile that radiated such warmth it seemed ethereal, before wiping it away.
It had left a chocolate aftertaste in Yeji’s mouth, one that she loved. She had always been a fan of sweets. It didn’t take much gears of her head to get working for her to realize that she was being fed nectar—drink of the gods, and can give temporary treatment to demigods, too.
Slowly, Yeji’s vision started to become clearer. She started seeing the girl’s face better—beautiful, as expected, with wide, innocent brown eyes, which made it look brighter with the sun directly hitting her face. Her lips were curled into a soft smile, making her much more beautiful than what Yeji could’ve expected her to look like. Her brunette hair was braided onto one side, resting on her shoulder.
Even though she was pretty, Yeji left some room for doubt. She tried reaching for her sword that was usually left sheathed beside her hips, but when she reached, she found nothing. It must’ve been washed away when she was drowning. Yeji frowned at this and looked at the girl again, who only shook her head and said, “Rest” before singing.
“You’re a sorcerer?” Yeji managed to ask as the girl continued to sing. And as the girl did, Yeji’s limbs felt lighter, she had stopped wheezing, almost as if the pain she was feeling has dissipated into thin air just like that. It was magic, she thought, but Yeji still struggled. She still needed rest.
The girl smiled as she cupped Yeji’s face. “I am Chaeryeong. For now, you must take rest in my home.”
And with that, Yeji blacked out.
*
Yeji didn’t know how many days had passed, but she felt better when she woke up, now laying down comfortably on a bed inside of what looked like a cave. She sat up, a throbbing pain still in her head, but she managed to take in her surroundings and notice that she was in somebody’s home.
It was a cave, alright, but it wasn’t like those that were usually dark and filled with cobwebs or whatsoever. This cave seemed to be cozier, filled with life and warmth. Just like the smile the girl wore earlier, Yeji thought. Its ceilings were filled with countless of crystals that gave light to the area.
She had difficulty standing up, but eventually she got the hang of it, and her knees didn’t buckle under the pressure of her weight now. The floor was cold, and she wasn’t given any footwear to slip on, but she did notice the change of clothes. She was stripped off of her usual denim shorts and orange camp shirt, and was now wearing loose undyed clothing woven from cotton.
Yeji would usually think by now that this was some sort of trap, but if it had, then why was she given a new set of clothing? Why was she fed nectar, and had been healed through magic? To top it off, she was given enough time to snooze and rest in somebody else’s bed, in somebody else’s home. Not to mention, as Yeji walked around the small area, she smelled what seemed to be like beef stew being cooked, making her stomach grumble.
“Not yet,” she told herself, patting her tummy. “We’re not so sure about our host yet.” She vaguely remembered that one time she had a host cooking stew, and later on that said host had asked for her heart as the final recipe.
This could stand true today, too even if the girl from earlier had seemed like a kind, beautiful sorceress and not a demigod-eating witch. Still, as much as demigods do, Yeji didn’t trust anyone easily. No matter how beautiful their home is, or how generous they have been. She didn’t realize, however, that she was hoping that this sorceress was different from the others. If Yeji were to be honest, if the sorceress wasn’t evil, she’d like to be friends.
She tried searching for signs of daylight to lead her out of the cave. She failed to do so, so she assumed it was already nighttime, but she still managed to find her way out and was greeted by hundreds or thousands of stars hanging at the sky. Outside, she saw Chaeryeong—Yeji is proud to remember her name—standing on the sand, hugging herself as she looked at the sea that seemed to stretch far, far away.
“You shouldn’t be wearing sleeveless if you’re freezing like that,” Yeji said as she neared the girl. She still kept a distance, but her voice was loud enough for Chaeryeong to notice her.
Chaeryeong smiled at this. Yeji found herself smiling back for some reason. “The trees in my island help keep the warmth, and the breeze is not too strong to make it cold.”
Yeji shrugged. “I suppose.”
“I assure you I don’t mean any harm.” Chaeryeong let out a small giggle. Yeji felt her heart jump at this. “You’ve been keeping quite a distance since you woke up, brave one.”
“Brave one,” Yeji echoed, more to herself. She didn’t mean to, but a bitter tone lingered in her words. The reason she ended up in this place in the first place was that she almost died because of her own stupidity. She was stupid enough to fall into the ocean while wading off a serpent’s tail…yeah. She didn’t feel like accepting the compliment.
Chaeryeong seemed to notice the shift in the demigod’s mood. She nodded, still. “Only the bravest of heroes arrive in my home. I’m certain that you are no different.” She paused, as if contemplating, but later on said, “I haven’t caught your name yet.”
“Oh.” Yeji ran her hand through her hair. “I’m, uh, I’m Yeji.”
Chaeryeong waited, and Yeji seemed to understand, “Daughter of Zeus.”
Chaeryeong nodded. “Perhaps that’s why you gave me a strong aura, Yeji. Like you’re a leader. And I suppose you are. Children of Zeus often lead quests and do heroic duties, as well.”
“I’m…not really— You know, I’m pretty average.” Yeji tried to put on a smile on her face, hoping that Chaeryeong wouldn’t notice how uncomfortable she felt with the praises. Being a child of Zeus—the King of Olympus—felt more of a burden to her rather than a blessing. “Well, since I’ve introduced myself, is it about time you tell me about you?”
“What is there to say?” Chaeryeong asked. “I’ve said my name. Chaeryeong.”
“Well, yeah, but”—Yeji pursed her lips—“isn’t this the part where you threaten to take my life?”
Yeji locked eyes with Chaeryeong, and for a moment she was afraid that the sorceress was indeed evil, and any time now Chaeryeong would use magic to combat with Yeji. But that didn’t happen as amusement danced in the brunette’s eyes, and Yeji confusedly watched Chaeryeong look away before bursting into laughter.
It wasn’t long, though, before small laughter came out of Yeji’s lips. She hadn’t realized she was smiling for a long time now. “Okay. What is it, why are you laughing?”
“I told you I mean no harm,” Chaeryeong replied, still smiling. A gust of wind flew by, making Chaeryeong’s locks dance with it, and with the fireflies surrounding them it made Yeji think—even though she has already established this a million of times already—that Chaeryeong was the most beautiful person she’d met, much more ethereal than a goddess (and yes, this included Aphrodite, but Yeji figured she would be exiled if she blurted it to everyone; she’s already crossed the goddess once). “My home is for heroes to rest, to heal.”
“There’s no catch?”
Chaeryeong’s smile almost faded. Almost. There was still a half-smile on her rosy lips, but it looked rather forced. “Are you starving, brave one? The stew is ready, I assume.”
Yeji almost flinched at the nickname. Yeah, brave one. “Dinner sounds nice.”
“You have invisible servants!” Yeji exclaimed, looking around as plates and utensils flew, setting themselves perfectly on the long wooden dining table in front of her. Chaeryeong sat in front of Yeji, liking the demigod’s reactions. “Wow. So. How much do you pay them?”
The bowl full of stew settled itself on the table. Of course, there must’ve been an invisible servant placing it there, but everything looked like it was flying. “They look like they cook real good, too. Do you give them a raise?”
“I do not,” Chaeryeong answered, tagging along with Yeji’s antics. “Help yourself to as much food as you would please. You haven’t eaten for days, if you weren’t aware.”
Yeji shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Um…how many days has it been since…I…”
“I don’t know, honestly.” Chaeryeong sighed, getting a spoon, only to play with her food. “Time is immeasurable in my island, Ogygia. I only know that you were passed out for quite a long time—but as for how long, exactly? I have no idea.”
Yeji blinked, looking at her stew, then at her surroundings. They were having dinner outside of the cave, the moon providing them enough light to see and navigate through the island. If that wasn’t enough, there were also fireflies flying around them, making the scene if not more beautiful, romantic. Add the fact that Chaeryeong had kept magical, glowing wildflowers around them really set the mood. And, Yeji has been using this description for too many times, it was pretty. She would’ve appreciated it, and she did at first, but now an odd feeling settled in her stomach, and she was sure it isn’t hunger.
Yeji tried going for a smile. “Ogygia, you say?”
Chaeryeong held Yeji’s gaze, her brown eyes appearing nonchalant. “Yes. What of it?”
Yeji isn’t as smart as Ryujin, a child of Athena, but she tried putting puzzle pieces together. About a girl, alone on her own island. This girl that welcomed all brave heroes, gave them food, a place to rest. A girl—a sorceress, or a goddess nymph—that’s to be stuck in her birthplace forever, watching heroes come and go. Falling in love with the heroes that come and go, only to be left alone for eternity. Yeji vaguely remembers the girl’s name starting with C, the island’s name having too many g’s. And it was as if something in her mind clicked—all of the puzzle pieces have fallen into place.
Chaeryeong still waited for an answer, but Yeji tried shrugging it off by tasting her stew, which turned out to be heavenly. She beamed a smile at the sorceress, who looked rather sad now. “Why aren’t you eating? Your kitchen staff is good good!”
Chaeryeong still had a frown on her face before she sipped some of the stew. “I suppose,” she commented, eating more.
“What do you mean, you suppose?” Yeji was fully aware that the atmosphere was awkward, but she was trying to ignore it and still ‘play it cool’ with Chaeryeong. “They could’ve been five-star Michelins for all I know!”
This made Chaeryeong’s eyes dart from the stew to Yeji. Her eyebrows were knit together in confusion, the frown still evident on her face. “Pardon?”
Yeji blinked. “Uh, they’re five-star Michelins?”
Chaeryeong cleared her throat. “I’ve heard of no such thing before.”
“Oh.” Yeji paused, then smiled, shrugging. “Well, it’s some sort of expression when you’re a great cook. My friend back in camp—his name’s Felix, son of Apollo—sort of made this phrase, ‘Cooking like a chef, I’m a five-star Michelin’. Michelins are like, ratings for cooks, you know? And you use a star to scale them. The most that a chef could get is three, from what a child of Athena has told me, so the five-star thing is sort of an exaggeration.”
While explaining, Yeji was afraid she started to talk the sorceress’ ear off, but she was amused to see that Chaeryeong was listening intently, the latter’s eyes focused as she nodded at certain parts. When Yeji finished, Chaeryeong said, “Fascinating. How frequent do you burn food sacrifices for Artemis to give you those stars?”
“What?” Yeji laughed, waving a hand. “No, no. The stars are figurative.”
Chaeryeong looked confused at first, but then nodded after a short while. “You may have to excuse my ignorance for this. I haven’t really had the chance to explore outside of the island. Only Hermes comes to visit me and tell me of all the changes that has happened, but he hasn’t mentioned anything about figurative stars, and Michelins—even the camp that you had said earlier.”
I figured, Yeji thought, but she leaned in closer, pushing her stew aside and resting her arms on the table. “You know, I could tell you more.”
Chaeryeong’s eyes widened at this. She looked cute. She composed herself after. “You should eat your stew first. You could tell me after eating.”
“Oh, sure,” Yeji agreed, “I didn’t mean to set the food aside. No offense.”
“None taken,” Chaeryeong said. “But if I may ask—would you like to chitchat over gardening?”
Again, Yeji wouldn’t say this aloud, because doing so would make her—a lone wolf in the cold, Zeus cabin—face a dozen of angry Demeter kids back at camp, but Chaeryeong’s garden put the Demeter children’s landscapes to shame. Rows and rows of flowers rested evenly, all sporting different hues. Despite the colors being so different from one another, the orchids and herbs and everything else managed to match with each other, making Yeji gape at it in awe. Just like back at the dinner area, there were glowing plants present, as well.
Yeji herself wasn’t much of a gardener. To be honest, she sucked at it. The only time she planted a tree was during one of those tree-planting activities she attended outside of camp, in her mortal life. (After this a wild hellhound had managed to sense Yeji, and the activity was destroyed, but the trees weren’t harmed.) Yeji never thought she’d hold a gardening tool in her life again, since she has given up on taking care of plants as fast as one of her friends did.
(“You’re not doing good but…” Jiwoo, daughter of Demeter, bit her lip, as if she was trying to form the least insulting phrase in her head. “It’s okay. You excel in sword-fighting! Which is why you don’t do well with plants.
Yeji wanted to point out that it hasn’t even been half an hour since they started, and Jiwoo could say that Yeji’s hopeless when it comes to gardening, but she settled with, “Okay. Swords, good. Plants, no.”)
Yeji held the small shovel (she doesn’t know what it’s called so she would settle for that) awkwardly. “So…what do I do?”
“Dig up a bit of dirt over this area”—Chaeryeong pointed at the part in front of her, which was still devoid of any plants, as she crouched—“and just do so until you think it is enough to plant around 16 seeds in.”
“Sixteen,” Yeji murmured, looking at the vacant soil. “Okay. Thank you for an easy task.”
Chaeryeong lifted an eyebrow, but she was smiling. Yeji smiled back, “Hey, that’s genuine.”
“Do you not like gardening?” Chaeryeong asked. Yeji didn’t seem to understand what the sorceress’ hands were doing, but she didn’t bother.
The half-blood focused on her own task. “Pretty much. Back at camp, I’ve tried once, and I barely did anything before my friend gave up on me.”
“Is this the same camp you spoke of earlier?”
“Yep.” Yeji yelped when the tool couldn’t dig through the soil, only to find out that there was a rock in it. She blushed as she scooped the rock aside, hoping that Chaeryeong couldn’t see how red her face was in the dark. She saw the brunette smile. “Sorry about that…but yeah, camp. A place for demigods.”
“Do all demigods live there?” Chaeryeong asked, tending to one of the glowing flowers. Yeji must’ve been staring for too long, because Chaeryeong looked at her and smiled, “These are called moonlaces.”
“They’re…lovely.” Yeji hasn’t been paying attention to the flowers, though, but she wasn’t going to say that. “But not all demigods…we try as best as we can, but some don’t make it to camp in time, some refuse to go to camp…it’s normal, but, I still feel sad about it.”
Yeji heard a long exhale run past Chaeryeong’s lips. The latter had a sad look in her eyes now. “I know the feeling.”
“It sucks, doesn’t it?”
Chaeryeong paused with whatever she was doing, thinking deeply, before focusing on her gardening again. “What exactly do you do at this camp?”
“Be safe most of the time,” Yeji replied almost immediately. “Being a demigod is hard, you know. I’ve known that since I was old enough to think.”
“Have you always known you were a demigod?”
“No. I just knew that something was – different with me. Like I didn’t belong. The orphanage kicked me out, only for another one to take me in, and then they kick me out again…sometimes I was the one who ran away, and this went on until a satyr found me and led me to camp.” Yeji hasn’t noticed she stopped digging and started mindlessly striking through the soil, like she was having a one-sided duel with it. “That itself was also hard; the satyr that helped me, he—he died just to get me in.”
Chaeryeong looked up from tending the moonlaces and gave Yeji an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”
“I hope he gets a beautiful afterlife. He deserves it,” said Yeji. “Anyway, ever since camp, though, I finally found a family. For once, I felt like I belonged, and as complex as my world could get—I still felt normal whenever I hung out there.” A smile made its way to Yeji’s lips. “Except for the ‘preparing for death’ part and quests here and there, the camp has been the most peaceful place I’ve ever been.”
“A place that brings you that kind of peace is worthy of being called your home,” Chaeryeong commented.
Yeji pondered over Chaeryeong’s words. “Just like Ogygia, then.”
She shouldn’t have said that, because Chaeryeong visibly tensed after. Time seemed to stop, the temperature has dropped down, and the glow from the moonlace seemed to dim. Yeji shut her mouth after and continued to dig, but Chaeryeong hasn’t even put seeds in it before she called it a day and went inside the cave.
*
The next day, Chaeryeong tried to pretend that everything was back to normal, but there was still an obvious air of stiffness in the atmosphere. Yeji tried to act as nonchalant as she could, but it was hard. Eventually, Chaeryeong went back to gardening (and she said she’d tend to the other plants alone for now) while Yeji stood near the ocean, looking at the horizon in front of her.
Her mind drifted back to the storm. Ryujin, trying to fight the serpent’s tail along with Yeji. Yuna, who was left to maneuver the ship all on her own amidst the raging storm. Lia, who desperately played a song to get the sea back to sleep, and how Ryujin and Yeji tried to fight off the drowsiness the music brought, too. They were doing well, almost able to fend off the monster, but Yeji lost balance, fell off the ship, and managed to get marooned on Ogygia.
What were the others doing right now? She hopes for the best—back at camp, resting, safe. For now, they’re probably grieving over Yeji, but she hopes it won’t be too long until they stop mourning. It won’t be too long until Yeji gets home.
And just like that, Yeji remembered what left her lips last night, how she called Ogygia as Chaeryeong’s home.
How would your own prison be your home? How could you be at peace when you’re constantly reminded of your punishment?
She shut her eyes. Home. Punishment. That summed up Ogygia’s existence, and how Chaeryeong had ended up being locked here. Yeji knew just as much as that. What she wanted to know, though, was why was Chaeryeong being punished in the first place. The brunette herself had said that she had no evil intentions. Yeji saw that. Chaeryeong was a kind soul. Was there something so horrid that she did in the past that ended up in this situation?
Yeji frowned as she got a pebble and tried making it skip, but of course it just sunk in the water. She was a child of Zeus, not Poseidon. That didn’t stop her, though. She got another pebble, but instead of making it skip, she threw it with so much force, making more water splash than earlier.
She didn’t know why Chaeryeong got punished, sure, but she does know the sorceress’ punishment. To be stuck here, in Ogygia, for eternity. Chaeryeong doesn’t have any chance to leave, but the heroes that came here could do. And, without fail, Chaeryeong has always fallen in love with the heroes that have come here—only for them to leave her in the end.
Of course, the heroes are also given a deal to stay immortal and be stuck with Chaeryeong for eternity, but what hero would do that when they have to save the world and have other responsibilities to take care of?
Yeji didn’t realize she was already screaming when she threw another pebble. The whole thing was frustrating her. It didn’t seem fair. But then again, since when did the gods ever know anything about being fair? It frustrated her more.
“You’re frightening the birds, daughter of Zeus.”
Yeji’s hand was in the air, ready to throw again when Chaeryeong spoke behind her. This made her blink, breathe deeply, then settle the pebble aside. Chaeryeong added, “And you have probably made the fishes swim away in fear.”
Yeji ran a hand through her hair as she faced Chaeryeong. “Sorry. Really.”
“It’s alright,” said Chaeryeong, “the servants have prepared our meals. I think they made today’s lunch more…special. They seemed to appreciate your compliment.”
“They deserve it,” Yeji said, and Chaeryeong left it at that. The latter turned her back on Yeji, and the demigod stared, wondering if Chaeryeong had already fallen in love.
Lunch had apparently been a wave of dishes that Yeji doesn’t know of. But Chaeryeong seemed to notice the confusion on the demigod’s face as she pointed at the food one by one, “That’s a plain salad, although it has grown to be one of my favorites. To your right is a mushroom soup, some fresh apple juice, fruits that you can help yourself with—”
The other dishes that Chaeryeong mentioned went through one side of Yeji’s ears then out the other, but she figured they were safe (and delicious) to eat, so she dug in.
It’s not like she’s hungry, no, but she still isn’t sure how to strike up a conversation with Chaeryeong that she decided to focus on eating. Truth be told, she’s kind of grateful that Chaeryeong still had lunch with her, even though it’s mostly because the sorceress is trying to be generous and hospitable.
As Chaeryeong finished drinking from her glass of Yeji-didn’t-know-the-fruit juice, she pointed out, “You seemed to be frustrated earlier.”
“I—I was.” Yeji got a napkin and wiped off some soup around her lips. “Sorry about the birds. And the fishes.”
“I…I hope I’m not crossing any lines,” Chaeryeong said, which made Yeji shift in her seat, “but what was the cause of your frustration earlier?”
Yeji wasn’t able to answer immediately, which made Chaeryeong add, “I’ve already mentioned how Ogygia is not only my home, but also a resting place for heroes. You cannot rest if your thoughts and feelings are troubling you. Many ignore this, but mind and emotions are just as important as one’s physical aspect.”
“Thank you,” Yeji said. “And you’re not crossing any lines, don’t worry. But I think I’m the one who’s about to ask something too personal, since my frustration came from—well—from thinking about this whole – set-up.” Blood crept its way to Yeji’s face as she spoke, afraid that she’d accidentally push one of the sorceress’ buttons again. She was basically walking on eggshells.
Chaeryeong, just like from last night, stiffened again. But she was quick enough to recover now as she vaguely waved her hand in the air. “I will answer as much as I can.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
This caught Yeji by surprise, but she nodded. She let a few beats pass first before she asked, “Why are you here?”
“As a punishment.”
The both of them knew it was a vague answer, but Yeji’s curiosity was getting the best of her. “I know that, but punishment for what, exactly? You’re kind. You’ve helped heroes, taken care of them…” Yeji bit back another thought – You’ve loved them. “…how does someone like you get something like this?”
“Something like?” Chaeryeong prompted, but Yeji wasn’t able to answer immediately. “Being stuck in my own birthplace for eternity? Make my own home my own prison?”
Yeji frowned, averting her eyes away from Chaeryeong’s. She looked at the table, instead. But on her peripheral view, Chaeryeong was still waiting for a reply, so she sighed and said, “It’s unfair.”
Chaeryeong had started to run her finger on the rim of her cup. “I am the daughter of a Titan.”
“And? What does that have to do with this?”
“Are you not aware of the Titan War eons ago?”
“Of course I am! It’s just that, what does it have to do with this? You’re punished because of your parentage? It’s not like you did something wrong.”
Chaeryeong laughed, but it was bitter. Completely empty of any sense of warmth that it made Yeji frown. “That’s what you don’t know. I sided with the titans in the last Titan War.”
“But…you’re nice…” Yeji’s face fell. “I don’t understand.”
“I sided with them because my father is a Titan,” Chaeryeong explained. A ghost of a smile—still a bitter one—was still on her lips. “If our parents were in a feud—your father, Zeus, and mine, Atlas—who would you side with?”
“Zeus,” Yeji answered without missing a beat. She wanted to argue that it was different, that Zeus is on the right side and that she’d trust her father, but with this thought she realized that Chaeryeong had probably thought of the same thing before, as well. Yeji tried to think clearly, without any bias, and after everything Zeus has done—was he really a good guy?
Yeji shuddered. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to be,” Chaeryeong said, her voice almost a whisper. “Being stuck here, and being granted immortality…it’s probably not the worst.”
Yeji waited. Chaeryeong then met her eyes and said, “It’s the curse.”
“What curse?”
Yeji knows what it is, but her heart still picked up its pace when Chaeryeong replied, “The curse of falling in love with every hero that comes here. I want to prevent my heart from giving in, but it just does, and it shatters as soon as I realized that I’ve fallen, again.” Chaeryeong looked up at the sky, as if she’s trying her best to hold back her tears—or maybe she’s cursing the gods for giving her such punishment. “And I tell myself maybe it’s just my loneliness eating me up. I try to keep myself occupied, then—magic, sewing, gardening—but still, every time someone wanders…”
“I’m different,” Yeji said, playing with her fork and the vegetable salad she’s left untouched. “I’m…I’m a girl. The myths say you’ve only fallen in love with a boy. With men.”
Yeji bit the insides of her cheek. She was trying to comfort Chaeryeong that the sorceress can’t possibly fall in love with every hero in Ogygia, but doing so made her chest feel hollow. And somehow, it managed to feel hollower when Chaeryeong gave her an incredulous look, saying, “Men—women—I see no problem falling in love with both.”
Yeji smiled, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah?” Was all that she said, even though a thought bugged her again—if the sorceress has already fallen in love. If she did, Yeji would have to leave her, because even if the demigod didn’t want to be like the other heroes, well…she was still a hero. One that had friends to go back to. Quests to complete. A world to protect.
Yeji went for eating one of her vegetables, which tasted so bitter she made a face and spat it out immediately.
With that alone, the heavy tension in the air vanished. Chaeryeong’s warm laughter seemed to echo throughout the island again, and Yeji found herself smiling at this, even though the hollow feeling had never left.
She never thought that her chest was able to feel so empty, but managed to weigh so much, as well.
Yeji had lost track of the days. She still thought of her friends, the camp, the world, but every time she pondered on asking Chaeryeong about a way out of the island—doing this pained her—a voice rang inside her head, This is not yet the right time, daughter of Zeus. It’s best that the two of you spend more time with each other.
Yeji didn’t like the voice. It was warm, like honey, but its tone was dangerous—cold, stern. She couldn’t remember who the voice belonged to, but she didn’t like it.
But she found herself still listening.
And that was great. Well, half-great. Yeji found herself enjoying Chaeryeong’s company, but it also reminded her of leaving the sorceress all alone again after all the days they’ve spent together. It also made her wonder if the curse applied to Chaeryeong only, or if the heroes also found themselves falling for such a beauty like her.
During that time, Yeji has come to know more about the sorceress. Apparently, not only were the invisible servants great cooks, but Chaeryeong was a five-star Michelin, too. The servants did most of the chores since Chaeryeong said she often kept herself busy with other things, such as learning—to sew, do magic, tinker with the crystals—anything to make her feel less lonely.
One time, with the sun setting in the horizon, as they started to walk through the outskirts of the forest, Chaeryeong has told Yeji that Apollo has visited for some time and taught her of songs constantly sang in the mortal realm. With confidence, the sorceress had volunteered to sing, and Yeji expected that Chaeryeong would know a song from the 60s or 80s, but she sang a song that wasn’t particularly new, but it wasn’t as old, too.
Chaeryeong had assured that she wasn’t using magic, but Yeji wanted to believe otherwise.
She was being drawn by Chaeryeong’s voice. But it turned out she wasn’t alone. The birds gathered around them. Some earthworms popped out of the soil. Butterflies flapped their wings gracefully as if they danced around Chaeryeong. The Apollo kids back at camp would’ve wept, and Yeji had already imagined Lia tagging Chaeryeong along for a duet.
Yeji didn’t realize her mouth was still hanging open, making Chaeryeong blush. “Though, it’s a song I sing with the god. He says it’s originally sung by a male and female artist.”
“It is,” Yeji confirmed, remembering how A Whole New World sounded like. Though she doesn’t remember it sounding this good—or was it because Chaeryeong’s the one singing it now? “So…you sing with the god of music himself, huh?”
Chaeryeong rolled her eyes playfully. “It’s no big deal. Apollo comes here and says I need entertainment every once in a while, too.”
“I bet he sings beautifully. But I’m surprised he lets you sing along, too.”
“Maybe he does it out of courtesy?” Chaeryeong’s tone was playful.
They both laughed at this, their voices combining making Yeji wonder if they’d harmonize well in a duet, too. But she set the thought aside as she asked, “Just a thought, but…have you tried dancing?”
Chaeryeong’s laughter faded, but the cheerful smile never left her lips. Yeji wished that she could see it for a long time. “Not in this island, no.”
“I like dancing,” Yeji said, her heels rocking back and forth as excitement slowly built up inside of her. “Aside from sword-fighting and other activities that help me avoid my doom—dancing is what I take interest in.”
She has said the same phrase to Ryujin once, who argued that dancing did help the daughter of Zeus in battles, too. It was a form of exercise. Yeji knew that already. What Ryujin pointed out though, was that sometimes, when Yeji fought, she looked like she was dancing, as if she was on beat, her steps swaying along to music only she could hear—her moves were calculated, her feet light, and she could shift from one side to the other with ease.
Yeji hadn’t noticed that, but Ryujin was always observant. Lia would always snort at the daughter of Athena’s comments. Yuna would just nod along and then do something goofy, pulling Yeji, then Lia together with her. Ryujin would be a bit tougher to convince, but she was mostly playing hard-to-get.
The sudden memory made Yeji’s heart ache. How were her friends doing right now?
“I remember dancing back then though…I think,” Chaeryeong said, snapping Yeji out of her trance. “Do I ask the servants to play us some music?”
“Or you could just sing again.” Yeji shrugged. “That seems better.”
A faint shade of red was evident on Chaeryeong’s cheeks. For some reason, Yeji liked the sight.
“But I was thinking of something more…modern, something like that,” Yeji continued. “I’ve learned some of BLACKPINK’s or Sunmi’s choreographies when I had time before. Or Chungha’s! Honestly, a lot.”
A confused smile was on the sorceress’ face. Yeji found it extremely cute. “I don’t understand, but I suppose I could once you explain…”
“Easy! I explain through dancing.” Yeji had a huge grin now, and that almost vanished when she realized she didn’t have music to accompany her, and Chaeryeong couldn’t probably sing her some of the artists she has mentioned, but she decided she could sing the songs herself. “What would you like me to try first?”
Chaeryeong shrugged as she sat on a huge rock. “You’ve mentioned a Sunmi?”
“Oh, okay. Gashina, I memorize by heart.” Yeji tried recalling the steps, and the thought that she was on an ancient island, with an immortal girl, dancing to pop songs she knew like the back of her hand made her want to curl into a ball and laugh. Her life had always been weird—this seemed to be one of those weird moments; the type that she’d laugh at. “Would you believe me if I said I’m nervous?”
“And what am I supposed to do? Kiss you to wash it away?” Chaeryeong’s face was still red, and what she said seemed to energize Yeji. “I know you will do great, however.”
A kiss would be fine, Yeji found herself thinking before finally getting into position. Then she danced.
And it made her feel better, despite the fact that she was still stuck in an island, with no clue of what’s happening outside of it. Yeji loves camp, always did and still does, but aside from the campfires and the arenas and the killing games back there, dancing was one of the things that made her feel at home, that made her feel so…alive. Happy. Normal. At peace. And dancing in front of Chaeryeong felt no different.
As expected, Yeji knew the steps by heart, right from the start, even if she hadn’t danced for a long time. Yeji didn’t mindlessly dance, but she imagined she was really performing—she usually did this with a huge audience in her head, but now, Chaeryeong was worth more than any amount of audience—felt the beat, played with her facial expressions, even winking at the sorceress, whose face was brighter than it has ever been.
“That’s Gashina!” Yeji exclaimed, now smiling like a wolf cub has just been given a new bone to chew on. “I’ve got a lot to show, still.”
Chaeryeong was clapping, her face still red.
Yeji scratched the back of her nape. “Too much?”
“What?” Chaeryeong shook her head, forcing out a cough. “It’s splendid! Have you got any more to show me?”
Yeji smirked. “A lot. I could dance forever. Could you handle it? You seem really swayed.”
“I am fine.” Chaeryeong nodded and motioned for her to continue. “What are the others that you have mentioned me?”
“BLACKPINK? Chungha?” Yeji pouted, then nodded afterwards. “I think I can still do a few moves.”
“Wait.” Chaeryeong hesitated. “Are dances today usually that…” Her words have failed her.
Chaeryeong—even though she’s alive and kicking, and could pretty much blend in with the GenZ people with her looks and physique—was still much of a…conservative person. Yeji waved her hand dismissively, “I know another dance.”
“You don’t have to adjust for me,” Chaeryeong said, standing up. “You danced well, Yeji, believe me. I was just caught by surprise since no one has mentioned—”
The sorceress’ words got stuck in her throat as Yeji, with no warning, took her hand (which, she noticed immediately, was so, so warm). The demigod then slipped her other hand on Chaeryeong’s waist. Chaeryeong looked at their hands in surprise, then up at Yeji, who only gave her a warm smile before gently swaying around.
Soon enough, Chaeryeong’s vacant hand had made its way to rest on Yeji’s shoulders. And Yeji couldn’t help it but think that they fit together well.
Their surroundings dimmed as the sun finally sank down the horizon, but the moonlaces started to glow, and the moonlight was enough to let Yeji continue gazing at Chaeryeong’s face, which always made her heart swell and swoon with admiration. The fireflies seemed to be dancing with them, slowly, gently, treasuring the time they had together.
If Yeji chose to stay, they could have all of the time in the world, she realized.
Yeji tried to not show a perturbed look. The thought was bugging her again. She started to think of her friends—even though they never really left her mind—and wondered how they were doing right now. Were they still grieving? Had they even managed to get out of the storm? Did they reach to camp safely and complete the quest? Was the camp peaceful now?
She started to think of Lia, and her promise that she’d attend the piano lessons that the younger was going to hold this summer. She still had this little puzzle piece completion tournament that she’d challenge Ryujin to, even though she knew she would lose easily. And Yuna had already scheduled a date for them, just the two of them, to go blend in with the mortals and shop as much as they could while trying to avoid the monsters.
And what made it all worse was that Yeji was thinking all of this when she was holding Chaeryeong’s hand, dancing with her in the dark, under the magic of the moonlight. Chaeryeong now rested her head on Yeji’s chest, squeezing the demigod’s hand as she did so.
“You know…” Chaeryeong started to say, her voice soft and somehow a bit lazy. “I’ve always been happy when a hero comes by, even though I’m aware of the curse. It excites me to have a companion over, to have someone to care for, look after.”
Yeji hummed. “You took care of me too, right? When I was still passed out.”
“Yes,” Chaeryeong answered. “I must admit, though, I did braid with your hair every now and then when you were asleep…”
Chaeryeong sounded bashful that Yeji couldn’t help it but smile. “Why hadn’t you braided my hair now that I’m awake? It would’ve been good quality time.”
“I hadn’t thought of it. A shame.” Chaeryeong lifted her head from Yeji’s chest, and at first the latter was afraid that the sorceress was pulling away, but Chaeryeong merely looked up at the demigod and smiled. “I first thought you were just like the other heroes that have come here.” Yeji almost became anxious because of this, but Chaeryeong continued, “But you seem to be different.”
Yeji blinked confusedly. “I—I am?”
“The other heroes made me happy.” Chaeryeong nodded, her eyes never leaving Yeji. And Yeji found herself never wanting to look away. “But you, Yeji—you made me the happiest.”
Yeji should have been smiling by now, but with the tears brimming in Chaeryeong’s eyes, she started to cry. She wasn’t a crybaby, mostly. She had always held her tears to herself, and never let herself break down even when she was alone. But all of the negative emotions have been eating her for the past few days, and who knew that a positive phrase was the one that would break her down?
Albeit the two of them were in tears, Yeji rested her forehead against the other, and she waited for a while, taking a few deep breaths before she found the courage to lean in, letting her instincts take over and close in the gap between the two of them.
Yeji, deep down, was sort of a hopeless romantic. She had always wondered how her first kiss would go, if it would be like the ones she read in books or seen in movies. It was neither. She hadn’t expected it to be rather sad, all of her guilt and regret being spoken through a kiss. But at the same time, it was warm, it was cozy—addicting, even, and maybe even gave her strength, just like ambrosia and nectar. But gods, this? This was better than ambrosia and nectar themselves.
Yeji wasn’t sure if kisses really felt like this, but as their lips moved in harmony with one another, Yeji was starting to know what Chaeryeong felt, as if the sorceress was indirectly saying it through the kiss. She was sad, Yeji knew that much, but the sadness was outweighed by gratefulness that Yeji feared such love would overwhelm her heart.
Reluctantly, they pulled away, catching their breaths.
Chaeryeong closed her eyes. Yeji continued to stare.
And just like this, with their foreheads pressed together, Yeji felt like she heard it in the silence.
I love you.
She hoped Chaeryeong heard her, too.
I love you too.
For whatever courage was left of Yeji that night, she had asked to sleep with Chaeryeong. The sorceress was taken aback, immediately misunderstanding, but Yeji pouted and said that they were just going to cuddle in the bed Chaeryeong let her sleep in for the meantime. (As Yeji passed by a mirror, she saw how much of a tomato she looked, and she turned even redder.)
But they settled comfortably on the bed, Yeji letting a leg swing over Chaeryeong’s waist. Chaeryeong let out a soft giggle before pressing herself closer to Yeji.
By now, they should’ve been asleep, but even with the sorceress’ eyes closed, Yeji knew that Chaeryeong was still awake. And so, like the spontaneous person she was, she asked in a whisper, “What if we leave Ogygia together?”
Chaeryeong hugged her tighter. “That is unlikely.”
“You’ve never tried.”
“Because I know what will happen.” Chaeryeong sounded pained. “The raft will give up on the two of us. It is meant to carry one hero only.”
“Then I’ll find a way back, and then I’ll get you out of here.”
“No one finds Ogygia twice.”
Yeji sucked in a deep breath. She wanted to curse the gods right then and there, but she held herself. She felt Chaeryeong pull away from the embrace, giving her a small smile before she leaned in and gave the demigod another kiss.
Yeji seemed to have trouble pulling away, but when she did, Chaeryeong whispered against their lips, “You don’t have to get me out of here. Just promise me you’ll stay safe. You’ll get back to your camp. You’ll have fun with your family.”
Chaeryeong could’ve been stabbing Yeji’s chest and it wouldn’t have felt any different.
“How would you know that I made it out of here safely?”
Chaeryeong let out a low laugh. “I assure you that you will find your way back to camp immediately. With no harm.”
The thought that Chaeryeong will still be left alone here didn’t seem to assure Yeji, but she gave the sorceress a chaste kiss before she pulled her close, not wanting to let her go.
But at dawn, Yeji found the side next to her empty.
It made her anxious. She didn’t have time to even fix herself before she ran out of the cave, immediately bolting for the forest, the garden, the dining table that was now devoid of any fireflies. She tried to ignore the cold air biting at her skin as she looked around, screaming Chaeryeong’s name.
If Chaeryeong had heard, she didn’t answer.
Yeji didn’t give up immediately. She went back to the cave, hoping that Chaeryeong had just taken a walk and was now on her way to the cave again, but Yeji’s eyes caught sight of what seemed to be raft floating near the shore. Immediately, her face fell, all the worry in her chest being replaced by sadness.
She understood now.
Yeji still took one last glance at the island, at the cave, hoping that at least she could see Chaeryeong before she left. But she had a feeling it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. It left a bitter feeling in her chest, but then again, she understood.
Even if she wished Chaeryeong hadn’t run away like that.
Even if she wished Chaeryeong could’ve at least gave her a proper goodbye.
Even if she wished she could’ve hugged or kissed Chaeryeong for one last time.
In the end, Yeji understood.
And so, she sat on the raft, letting it take her back home, even if she wished that a person she’d also call home was there with her.
*
Her friends could’ve punched her when she appeared out of nowhere, because they loved her like that.
Oh wait, they did.
“You daughter of Zeus!” Ryujin screamed before punching her stomach. It was light, but Yeji still flinched. “I hate you!”
Yeji ran a hand over the spot Ryujin hit and croaked, “Hate is a strong word.”
“Yeji!” Screamed another voice, and Yeji was sure it was Lia. Said daughter of Apollo rant to her, tackled her in a hug, and then punched her gut, the same spot where Ryujin did. Gods. Yeji didn’t even have time to recover from the first blow. “Why didn’t you return immediately?!”
Yeji rolled her eyes, not trusting herself to not break down when answering. It wasn’t long before she saw another one of her best friends looking at her, standing a few feet away, the said friend’s big eyes filled with tears before a loud sob made its way out of her lips.
The eldest of them friends smiled before she ran to Yuna, the baby of the group, pulling her in a tight embrace. Yuna tried to ask Yeji of how she has been, of why hasn’t she returned immediately without even sending an Iris-message, but sobs ate most of the youngest’s words, and then Yeji found herself crying, too. Lia joined the hug, then Ryujin, and the rest of the campers found four half-bloods sobbing in a tight, overdue group bear hug.
Yeji hugged her friends tighter.
She was home.
Thankfully, the camp provided her with breakfast and a fresh hot bath before they bombarded her with questions in her own cabin.
“She enjoyed her stay, I’m sure,” teased Hyunjin, son of Poseidon. Yeji rolled her eyes at this. “What? You were gone for, like, almost a month!”
Yeji resisted the urge to throw a chicken drumstick to his direction. If she did, Hyunjin would’ve caught it and thanked her. She wasn’t giving him that satisfaction. (And she should pay respect to the food.) “How about you shut up if you don’t know where I’ve been?”
The teasing smile left Hyunjin’s lips. “What do you mean I don’t know?”
Yeji thought the son of Poseidon was joking, but he looked serious, and for a split second she was worried that Hyunjin had wondered to Ogygia before, too. That could’ve explained it, if he really knew what happened. Yeji felt herself feel a bit…glum…at it, but she chastised and reminded herself that it wasn’t unusual for heroes to get stranded there.
That didn’t seem to be the case, though. The rest of the demigods in the room stiffened. And then Chan, son of Hades, started to force Hyunjin to stand up. “Okay, okay, stop talking, let’s get going. She’s had a rough day. Or month.”
“Yeah, and you’re pretty talkative,” Lia said frankly, who was leaning by the Zeus cabin’s doors.
Hyunjin frowned. “What, you’re just going to talk with her, too!”
“I’m really sorry about him,” Chan said as he continued to push Hyunjin towards the exit. “He’s been really cranky since Yeji has been gone. Really, this is just his way of showing his gratitude that Yeji’s back in one piece. And Yeji…we’re really glad you’re safe.”
Despite Hyunjin’s protests, Yeji knew what Chan meant. She and Hyunjin had been on dangerous quests together, along with Chan, since they’re children of the Big Three. Even though Hyunjin was always teasing, he cared deeply for those around him.
“Yuna,” Ryujin said, but Yeji knew it was an order. Yuna was quick enough to catch on, and even though she seemed reluctant, she opened the door (the one Lia wasn’t leaning on). Hyunjin was still noisy, but at least Chan wasn’t pushing him outside anymore.
When the cabin was silent again, Ryujin was the one to break it this time. “We knew where you were.”
For some reason, this made Yeji avoid her friend’s gaze.
“It was my mom,” Yuna supplied. Yeji gave her a questioning gaze. “We—we didn’t have time to go after you when you fell, or else we’d get the whole ship destroyed and all of the stuff we gathered for the quest would be gone, too. So I prayed. I prayed real hard. Aphrodite came to the rescue…”
Lia sighed. “It was too quick. Like you falling over that ship was planned.”
Yeji furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“Well, when you fell, Yuna prayed, and poof”—Lia waved her hands around—“Aphrodite had appeared too quickly, like she was expecting it. She stood there when we fought the serpent, and when everything was done, she told us you were safe, and that you were sent to Ogygia.”
“I tried asking her why,” Ryujin said. “The goddess just said how nice she is that she helps demigods all the time. And she says Yuna is her favorite daughter.”
Yuna smiled brightly at this, then frowned as if she remembered something. “I know I’m her favorite, but Yeji being sent to Ogygia turned out to be a different case.”
Yeji let her brain work, connecting one story to the other, until she felt like she was looking at a spider’s web that she didn’t like.
Her mind drifted back to that one time when she, Lia and Dahyun—a daughter of Hermes—first met Aphrodite. They needed to get through, and Dahyun was so close to convincing Aphrodite until she went all “You look pretty” and Yeji muttered a “Yeah, I guess she is” out of annoyance, which was apparently heard by the goddess. Aphrodite still let them through, though, but not without warning Yeji that she should be more careful with her mouth.
“So that’s it?” Yeji asked, mentally listing Aphrodite in her topmost hated deities list. Now the cold voice she’d hear in her head back in the island made sense. “I was sent to Ogygia, she used magic voodoo whatever to make me and Chaeryeong fall in love, and then made the both of us heartbroken.”
There seemed to be something wrong with what she said, because the three of her friends looked as if she had said something unusual, leaving their mouths hanging open in surprise.
Finally, Yuna put a hand over her mouth, mumbling, “Yeji…I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Yeji asked.
“You fell in love,” Lia said. “With Chaeryeong, even though it’s…” She frowned. “It’s sad.”
Ryujin stood up, her hands clasped behind her back as she started pacing around the cabin. “How do I say this…Aphrodite didn’t make the two of you fall in love…”
Yeji’s heart pounded, not sure where this is going.
“It wasn’t magic,” Ryujin continued. “She simply let you go to Ogygia. She—she knew you’d fall in love with Chaeryeong.”
“Probably harder than any other hero has,” Lia added, giving Yeji an apologetic look.
“That—well—Aphrodite—” Yeji tried collecting her thoughts, “That goddess hates me. That’s why she made me fall in love with Chaeryeong.”
“Trust me, I know if one’s feelings are under the influence of magic,” Yuna said. “And…and I can sense that you’re not under any magic.”
When Yeji didn’t speak, Lia continued, “Everyone knew you were at Ogygia, though we were still worried. You’ve been gone for almost a month, Yeji. We should’ve known that you were probably enjoying your stay there since…since you know.” Lia took a deep breath. “We just didn’t expect it because usually relationships there are…”
The daughter of Apollo’s words faltered, but her eyes told the rest of the story, and Yeji understood. Most relationships there are one-sided. It was supposed to be Chaeryeong’s punishment alone, to bear the pain of a one-sided love as she watched the love of her life go away, but now, it was as if Yeji carried the punishment with her.
And she found herself thinking it was okay. She might’ve regretted it if she didn’t share a part of Chaeryeong’s curse—hopelessly, helplessly falling in love.
Even though Aphrodite might’ve sent Yeji to Ogygia as a punishment—to fall in love but to never see Chaeryeong again—she stared down at her uneaten chicken drumstick, making a mental note to burn it as a thank you for the goddess (even though she did this once in a blue moon, and making an offering to Aphrodite alone – this would be the first time).
*
Yeji made sure to glare at Hyunjin as they circled each other.
It was another game of Capture the Flag. Mostly, the three demigods of the Big Three—Yeji, child of Zeus, Hyunjin, child of Poseidon, and Chan, child of Hades—were grouped into one team, but this was one of the few times that they were separated from one another, and Yeji was alone in the red team (alone from the Big Three kids, that is).
“You seem fiercer,” Hyunjin observed, but Yeji knew he was going to talk and talk and probably distract her. It’s one of his many annoying special tactics when they went on quests. “What’s your secret?”
It’s been months, but the island came back to Yeji’s mind again, with a beautiful sorceress with brunette hair braided on one side smiling at her. Yeji smiled. “Ogygia.”
The answer seemed to surprise Hyunjin, and Yeji chose this moment to go on the offense, striking her sword, which, unfortunately, was immediately parried by the son of Poseidon.
Yeji was on her way to the blue team’s flag, and Hyunjin was apparently on his way to the red team’s, and they met halfway through the forest, now here they are.
Hyunjin stepped back first, trying to strike at Yeji’s side after, but Yeji was quick enough to jump away before striking again, only for Hyunjin to block her again. Swords clashed, and Yeji found Hyunjin’s sword in the air, managing to parry it the last minute. With their swords against each other, both feline eyes challenging one another, Yeji managed to say, “You’ve gotten pretty good too, Salt Boy.”
“Again with the nicknames?” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, but he didn’t lose stance, and Yeji didn’t take the risk of trying to strike again. “I’ve always been good.”
“But you’re better now, honestly.” A teasing grin made its way to Yeji’s lips. “Is it Jeongin?”
Hyunjin almost lost his grip. Almost. “Excuse me?”
“What kind of sword-fighting lessons does he give you?” Yeji teased more, trying to make Hyunjin lose his focus.
It worked. Hyunjin’s ears were visibly red by now, and he stepped back, screaming to charge, but Yeji took this moment to run away, looking back to a flustered and annoyed son of Poseidon. Hyunjin tried to follow, but Yeji cheated and let a loose of electricity strike near him, which made him scream more.
They weren’t usually allowed to use their powers in the game that much. But Yeji did, because she wanted to tease her friend, and she knew Hyunjin couldn’t come back at her since the lake was far away. (And she was more than sure that he wouldn’t risk his energy just to transport water from a hundred miles away.)
Yeji was so, so close to the blue team’s flag by then, but she noticed that its defenses were down, which was unusual. Ryujin was in the blue team. She wouldn’t want a setup like this.
Before Yeji could come close, she realized why it had been left defenseless. Over the direction of the red team, Chan screamed, raising and waving the flag proudly.
Despite losing, it was a fair, fun game, just like any other Capture the Flag—as long as they weren’t attacked by random monsters in the middle of it, that is. Plus, she got to tease Hyunjin, who was still giving her a look while sitting alone on the Poseidon table. But soon Jeongin came over, and the son of Aphrodite didn’t sit down since it was against the rules, but they started to chitchat, and Hyunjin’s eyes formed into crescents.
Yeji tried to focus on her food and didn’t try to think that much about being all alone in the Zeus table. She’s gotten pretty used to it. But ever since she left Ogygia, being alone made her feel empty for some reason, and she’d find herself wandering back—mentally—to the island, with its invisible servants and fireflies and beautiful moonlaces. The cave and the beef stew, and a handful of dishes that she didn’t know. Chaeryeong. The island had Chaeryeong, too.
Later that night, when she felt the patrol harpies weren’t there to beat her up as she snuck out of Cabin 1, Yeji found herself sitting near the Demeter kids’ garden, hoping no one would see her.
And there, the same, hollow feeling occupied her chest as bittersweet memories visited her yet once again. It has been months, but Yeji remembered everything like it all happened yesterday. How warm Chaeryeong’s presence was, how perfectly their hands fit together, how her kisses were better than ambrosia and nectar combined. Yeji missed Chaeryeong more than anything else and always remembered the way the sorceress would blush, would smile, and would frown when one of her flowers didn’t grow well. How she’d sing a song, her voice heavenly, to heal those around her.
Heal.
Yeji remembered Ryujin trying to cheer her up, saying time would heal her. Perhaps time could heal, but this won’t.
Yeji stood up, her eyes leaving the garden that reminded her of Ogygia, and up to the sky, which was always filled with thousands and nameless of stars, forming constellations that Ryujin would’ve recited for her right now. It was such a majestic view, but all Yeji could think of was Chaeryeong.
She held her hand out, then another one just below—like she was dancing with a ghost, one hand holding the other’s, while her other hand was on the ghost’s waist.
She pretended that the ghost was Chaeryeong. But Chaeryeong was real, she was alive.
And then, she swayed, her eyes never leaving the skies as her orbs were slowly being filled with tears. She danced, slowly, wondering if Chaeryeong felt as lonely as her, if Chaeryeong also danced like this ever since she left.
In the silence, she thought she heard the same voice again, full of love, warmth.
I love you, it wanted to say.
Yeji took a shaky breath. “I love you, too.”
FIN.