Min Sun didn't jump back with us. She didn't jump at all. Thrusk's one-month policy had been put into effect two months ago; we had had the funeral, raised a memorial. Min Sun was not my nor Thrusk's first History loss. The memorial stone in our garden outside read, quite simply, "Our Sunshine, Lost in History."
Lost.
Lost in History. Min Sun hadn't lost herself, and History probably hadn't killed her. She'd chosen to live out her days in a place she loved more than anywhere else, chosen to truly integrate herself into a community, a final mission.
This wasn't uncommon, but it still hurt like hell. My sunshine, my mentor was gone and hadn't bothered to leave anything behind, any hint that she realized how much she had meant to all of us.
But she had left her final mission. I watched from behind a camera as one of our trusted university assistants began to finalize the excavation of our third package, Min Sun's pride. I took a deep breath, the bitter morning air numbing my mouth. Gloved and suited for historical discoveries, our partner university raised what remained of our gift to Korea historians. Something that looked vaguely like a box, held together by paste and shoelaces.
The box was set with utmost precision atop a drop sheet. Pieces of the wood flaked off at even the slightest touch. We would be lucky if anything inside was still evenly remotely recognizable.
Keeda squeezed my hand tightly, wrapping her fingers around mine, warm chocolate against freckled peppermint. She knew how much this final package meant to me; all the other artifacts (carefully crafted jars, swords, and herbs, to name a few) were nothing compared to Sun's hand-picked favorites. These would sit in a museum, another monument to Sun's incredible work, subjects of awe and wonder.
In courtesy of their partners, the professors began to prepare to open the box. Our own Prof stood nearby with Mrs. Choi Gyeon, imposingly sweet, hovering beside him. I could've sworn I saw a tear glittering in the corner of her eye as she watched the professors lift the lid.
Rancid. Noxious, pungent, putrid. It hit the back of my throat with enough force that I stumbled backward, choking on the stench. Thick, cloying, decaying. The stench stung my eyes, nipped my ears, tore apart my sinuses with a razor edge. Vision blurring, I got a distant impression that the people around me were incredibly tall... but I was on the ground, grass combing through my hair. The professors were shouting, sound cutting violently at what was left of me.
The stench hung in the air, wrapping its way around my entire body, chaining me to the ground, latching onto every sense, filling every pore with its decay. Keeda's hand in mine, then I was standing, wobbling, straining to see through the tears and squeezing my thumbs as tightly as I could to keep from gagging. I could almost hear voices yelling to cut the cameras, but I stumbled forward, not caring about my place behind the cameras. Sun and I hadn't put anything into that box that would have stunk like this, nothing at all.
Arms wrapping around me, holding me tightly in place. I kicked. I had to know.
Prof's voice, telling me I could watch the tapes later, that we needed to get out of here before a civilian noticed the commotion.
Choking, I struggled to speak, "What... what... that?"
"Sun."
I heard him wrong. Sun? She had gotten Lost. She had left. Why Sun? Was it a code?
I kicked once, twice, thrice more, the arms loosened, and I was free, marching drunkenly forward, limbs still heavy from the stink. My vision was mostly cleared, but I wish it had been fogged over completely.
The box's lid was off, and a familiar face gaped up at me, skin melting back from her face in a gruesome imitation of a smile.
Min Sun.
She was folded in a way not even a contortionist could achieve, feet behind her head and arms locked behind those legs. Head bent backward so sharply it looked as if she could kiss her toes.
And from this, the stench poured, worse than the slums of the 1200s, worse than untended stables, worse than slaver's carts. The smell of Min Sun's decayed body caressed my every orifice with deadly precision, polluting the entirety of my body, flesh and soul alike.
I woke up in the hospital wing, Johta and Dieter sitting beside me, grim-faced and tear-stained. Without saying a word, they handed me a roll of footage. The first was a progression, showing the box, unopened, professors and their assistants busily preparing, then opening it. A bomb went off as they did (metaphorically), and I watched two dozen scientists and historians fall back, disjointed. I watched as my shocked self stumbled forward towards the box, look inside, the collapse. I tossed the roll aside, hitting play on the second.
Her bones were bent, half-healed into the broken position. One of our best nutrition packs was attached to the back of her head, tubes placed carefully inside her mouth, where broken teeth still clenched around the 600-year old tubes. Besides the pack, Sun was completely naked, not that you could tell. Nature had been surprisingly kind to her body for 600 years, however, the worms had not. Min Sun was a sack of bones tied loosely together by what remained of tendons and stringy flesh.
Bile rose in my throat, and I moved to turn the tape off, but Johta stopped me.
"Watch."
So I turned my unwilling eyes back to the screen where Hyun-ae was carefully lifting Min Sun from the box. As she did, something slipped off Min Sun's wrists. Something glowing blue, flashing silver. The tape cut to Max laying the strange round objects on his examination table. Bits of partially-decayed flesh still clung to them, but a strange blue light danced across the silver surface nonetheless.
Dieter flicked the tape off.
"That's what stopped her." It wasn't a question; I knew. Those bracelets, those horrendous things had stopped my best friend from jumping out.
"As best as we can figure, yes. They seem to prevent gifts. Max thinks that they can stop the use of gifts, stop time from progressing, and can be set to apply on of these effects on the person wearing it for a set amount of time." Johta's voice was devoid of all emotion, but another crystalline tear slid down her cheek, a diamond formed by pain.
"Someone captured Min Sun, gave her a nutrient pack, broke her bones and locked her inside that box with no way to get out and no way to even make time flow normally."
She wasn't decayed enough for 600 years. The cuffs could block time from passing; maybe they could speed it up as well.
I hated myself for the scientific thoughts bubbling up, but the bubbles were my only source of oxygen for the following months. Analyzing, dissecting, and recreating the bracelets was my sole purpose.
But nothing was left; not a hint or clue to who or what killed Min Sun.
So the cuffs were locked away, only to be used in Time emergency.
