Legend [YEONBIN] ✓

epilogue

The forest was dark despite the full moon. The branches now held so much foliage that it created a barrier between the earth and sky. The moonlight no longer hurt him, but still, Soobin was grateful for the protection.

He’d avoided the woods after losing his mother. But he’d missed his safe haven. The memories this place held were both comfort and pain. And now, as he picked his way over twisting roots and through reaching branches, he breathed in deeply. The scent of dirt and wood calmed his nerves.

He loosened his grip on the flowers he carried. He didn’t want to break their delicate stems. Was it useless to bring such a token? Ara had hated flowers; she said they made a mess when they died. But his mother couldn’t voice her disapproval of such a gift. Not anymore.

Soobin swiped at his eyes, stinging with tears.

As he approached the maehwa tree that commemorated his mother, he blinked, wondering if his tear-filled vision was playing tricks on him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. But it was still there. A dark X burned into the tree, still smoking from the ugly brand.

“Soobin-ah.”

He whipped around at the whisper. It had sounded so close, like someone spoke into his ear.

The forest behind him was empty. The shadows of tree branches twisting ominously.

“You are not free.”

He spun toward the maehwa tree and stepped back in surprise. The branches reached out, like sharp wooden hands. Grasping at him. He tried to run, but his feet sank into the ground. Roots rose to twist around his legs. Squeezing so hard they cut off his circulation.

The branches took him into their cruel embrace. They bit into his arms. Rough bark rubbing at his skin.

It’s a dream, Soobin told himself. This isn’t real. You have to wake up.

He tried to push free, but the branches held tight. He tried to kick, but his feet were encased in dirt and roots.

This isn’t real, he repeated to himself. But still his heart sped. Tears fell down his cheeks. He tore futilely at his prison until his fingers bled.

As the branches closed around him, he became surrounded by darkness.

“Soobin-ah. Leave.”

“I can’t.” He couldn’t breathe. If this was a dream, why couldn’t he breathe?

“If you stay, you’ll die.”

“No!” He clawed at the branches with bloody fingers.

“You think it’s over, but it’s not. You think you’re free, but you’re not.”

Out of the darkness a pale face appeared, beautiful and cold. Ara’s eyes captured Soobin’s.

“Eomma,” he sobbed out. “Help me.”

Ara’s lips peeled back, revealing sharp teeth. “Help yourself!”

Soobin jerked awake, struggling against the tangle of sheets that had twisted around him. As he remembered the dream, he knew that wasn’t all it was.

He still felt like he couldn’t breathe. He thumped a fist against his chest to clear his lungs. He finally wheezed in air.

Squeezing his eyes shut again, he could still picture his mother’s face. Fierce. Cold. Almost threatening.

It was more than just a dream. It was a warning.