The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea

by Axie Oh

It might not be enough. I wish it didn’t hurt so much—the waves, the salt, the sea.

It is tradition in the seaside villages to write wishes onto pieces of paper before folding them carefully into boats to set upon the river. The belief is that our paper boats will carry our wishes to our dead ancestors in the Spirit Realm, where they can bargain with the lesser gods to fulfill our dreams and desires.

I wonder if it happens in a day, for your fate to change. Or if it takes longer for your life to be stolen from you.

I don’t know what’s supposed to happen, but this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for, what Shim Cheong has been waiting for since the day she learned she was

too beautiful to live. This is the moment when she loses everything. Most devastatingly, the boy she loves.

“Please,” I whisper. In this moment, I don’t feel beautiful. Nor do I feel very brave, my hands trembling. But there’s a warmth in my chest that nothing and no one can take from me. This is the strength I call upon now, because even if I am afraid, I know I’ve chosen this. I am the maker of my own destiny.

“The Sea God isn’t angry, Mina. He’s lost. He’s waiting, in his palace far beyond this world, for someone brave enough to find him.”

back away from the doorway. Carts without owners. Cooking fires without cooks. Shoes without people. A city of ghosts.

now.

I wonder if they were nervous or afraid. Or if hope made fools of them all.

I can hear my grandmother’s voice in my ear. There are rules to the world of spirits, Mina. Choose carefully which ones you break.

There is a reason this city is veiled in mist. There is a reason I can only travel through it by way of a ribbon of fate. But the sound of the chime was close, and the truth is, I think I’ve heard it before.

Wind chimes ringing without wind mean there are spirits about.

According to myth, the Red String of Fate ties a person to her destiny. Some even believe that it ties you to the one person your heart desires most.

There’s a sharp pain in my chest, but it’s not love. It’s darker, hotter, and infinitely stronger. I hate him.

I can feel it breaking. I am not like Joon, who has a gentle heart. I can be stubborn and cruel. I can be bitter and resentful. I want to be all of those things now, because they keep me brave. They keep me angry. And don’t I deserve to be angry, after all that he’s done to my village, to my family?

Is it you that makes the world cry, or the world that makes you cry?

“Brides don’t often travel with gifts for the Sea God,” my grandmother chided. “Use your voice.” “But I have nothing to say! End the storms. Protect my family. Watch over

us all. He has done none of these things.”

“It was she who taught me the song that I’ll pass on to you now.” In the Sea God’s hall, I rise to my feet. The melody my grandmother used to sing to me, I sing it for the Sea God now. Beneath the sea, the dragon sleeps What is he dreaming of?

Beneath the sea, the dragon sleeps When will he wake? On a dragon’s pearl, your wish will leap. On a dragon’s pearl, your wish will leap.

I may not be the chosen bride, but is it too much to hope that a girl like me—a girl with nothing but herself to give—could be the Sea God’s true bride?

A voice like steel cuts through the silence. “That’s enough.”

A magpie may dream it’s a crane, but never will it be one.

But they weren’t there, on the boat. They didn’t feel the sharp spray of water, the heart-stopping fear when a loved one is in danger. I may be rash. Common, perhaps. But I am not weak.

I can see her clearly as she stood on the boat, confronting her fate in the form of the dragon, rising up out of the sea. A fate she never asked for. A fate she refused.

I realize, His eyes do more to hide his thoughts than his mask does to hide his face.

I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. I’ve never seen anything more terrifying.

It’s harder to be brave when by myself, cold and alone.

I was twelve years old, and I could feel the hours of our childhood slipping through my fingers like sand in the sea.

“You were crying and crying, and your eyes were closed tight, and nothing seemed to comfort you. I was afraid you’d drown in your own tears.

“I’m saying, Mina, that Joon has loved you your entire life. Since the day you were born. He will always love you. It is his forever gift to you.”

“Then why did he leave me behind?” “Because he knows that you love him enough to let him go.”

From the way she’s dressed in a soft cotton dress, sewn with small pink flowers, I know she’s very much loved.

“Tears are fine every now and then, but it’s never a good thing to waste water.”

“Ask the girl her name, Mask! She’s very pretty.” “How would you know if she’s pretty or not? You’re just a little boy!”

My eldest brother, Sung, says trust is earned, that to give someone your trust is to give them the knife to wound you. But Joon would counter that trust is faith, that to trust someone is to believe in the goodness of people and in the world that shapes them.

The cobblestoned streets are paved in mosaics of sea creatures.

It was strange, sitting in a room with a girl I’d never met before, helping her dress in the colors of a bride—bright colors signifying love, happiness, and fertility—when, come morning, she would be drowning, and the dress would do nothing but pull her beneath the waves.

“Then there are the girls like my sister, who want to be the Sea God’s bride because it hurts too much to be themselves.”

To have

Nari’s good opinion was to have the sun’s light upon you.

He takes off down the street, calling over his shoulder, “When we meet again, I look forward to hearing your voice!”

but they remind me of home, where because of a weak and spineless ruler, warlords squabble over land and shed blood because of petty grievances. It must be the same here. In the Sea God’s absence, the inhabitants of this realm, sensing a weakness, would try to upset the balance of power in their favor.

Ironic, that they should steal from Shin, who stole from me. In all the stories, magpies warn of thieves. Not tonight.

“I’m impressed,” he says, watching me through half-lidded eyes. “You are blessed with luck to have made it this far.”

“Just because you can’t hear the words doesn’t mean they’re not being said.”

“It’s your own fault that you can’t hear me. Anyhow, it’s better this way. If you knew what I was saying, you would not be pleased.”

My breath. Heavy and rasping. Until I see it. Spread between my hand and Shin’s is a bright red ribbon. The Red String of Fate. Our eyes meet. “Oh no,” I say. My voice comes out as clear as a chime.

A paper boat ripped in half. My sister-in-law in tears. My grandmother screaming my name as I ran and ran and ran