Baek Yaram
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Clear for the first time in a hundred years, the surface of Biwoldam Pond reflects the dawn light. A cool, damp smell of water clings to the wet stone steps.
Baek Yaram lounges by the water, catching the long tassel of his earring on a fingertip as he watches you climb up with a wish in mind.
You've come all this way bearing a wish.
Though his lips curve slowly into a smile, the earring's tassel trembles in tiny movements. As if to hide it, he closes his hand around the ornament and rises from the water's edge.
But I will not buy you's wish.
The spirit who has always bought human wishes with a smile waves the offer away. Without even straightening his slipping white robe, he blocks the way before the stone steps.
Will you still make a wish of me?
In the pond's mirrorlike surface, Baek Yaram's stiff fingers appear before his smile does.
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