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“Watch your words, Jennie! Only cowards are bullies.” “I’m not a coward!” “Then don’t be a bully!”
Certain parts of the house—usually the ones we use the most—absorb so much enchantment that they come alive as spirits, or sin. The door-sin, the kitchen-sin, and the toilet-sin are the main ones, but sometimes you get others, too. The house-sins protect our homes, but you have to make sure you say something nice every time you use them or they can make your life pretty miserable.
I’ve told you a million times, emotions are bad for your health. They give you wrinkles.
The infuser supposedly sources it from some old Greek dudes who work out of the Empire State Building, and the stuff really works.
The Haetae is a uni-horned lion beast, and one of the most-well-loved creatures in our culture. He’s Mago Halmi’s guardian pet, known for two things: his incredible loyalty, and his ability to manipulate time.
“If you guys get married and hyphenate your last names, you’ll be Hattie Oh-Noh.”
Summoning the mother of all creation and asking for a wish is a radical plan, if ever there was one. But it’s got to be better than running away from home.
books have a way of finding their rightful owners.
He was always there for me, making sure I never felt alone.
There is no excuse for Jennie to be the mean bully that she is. But I can see now that her anger never had anything to do with me. It had only to do with herself, and she chose to direct it at me for some reason. And while that is not cool, I kind of get it. Sometimes it’s easier to blame others than blame yourself.
“Our clan motto is Service and Sacrifice. This is precisely the type of decision we were born to make.” My heart beats proudly at their courage.
“Never forget, my son—you were made in love, and you will live a life full of love. Don’t be scared of letting it in. You are worthy of it all.
I’ve spent my whole life thinking of myself as an outsider. I always kept my head down because I was different and never fit in. But as I look around now, something stirs inside me. Despite not having achieved my wish of becoming a healer, I have never felt more Gom in my life. At the same time, even without my Horangi elemental magic, I feel more like a scholar than I ever could have imagined. And though I no longer belong to either clan, I feel more gifted than I ever thought I’d be.
It’s just like Hattie said. It’s all about choice. I don’t have to feel conflicted about being Gom or Horangi, gifted or saram, adopted or born into a family. Because my choice isn’t either-or. I can choose to be all of those things. It’s my actions that define who I am, not who I was born to, or what blood flows through my veins, or even what magic I can wield. And the fact of the matter is that I chose all these people, and these people chose me.
Each of us is capable of more than you can imagine.
And for the first time in my life, instead of being ashamed of my four inner fires, I embrace them. I let the embers drift down over me, become part of me. And as the licks of power engulf me, I allow myself to accept it, and accept myself. Intertwined with these feelings is my love for both sets of parents, compassion for my sister, thankfulness for the companionship of my best friend, and gratitude for the unity of the Gom. I fuse it with my appreciation for the scholars’ bravery, the loyalty of the inmyeonjo, the support of my auntie, and the courage of my gifted friends. I have never felt
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I gather all the dark and light, love and hurt, good and bad from my life into one monumental ball of fire.
simultaneously let go of and embrace my potential,
I am the last divine star that fell from the Godrealm’s sky. I am the one who was destined to stop the end of all days. I have lost, but I have gained. Because I am strong. And I am brave. My name is Riley Oh, and I was born to shine.
eum and yang (ihm) and (yahng) the Korean way of saying yin and yang, which is the idea that seemingly opposite or contrary forces may actually be complementary and interconnected.
not much has changed as far as my thirst for books go. Words are still everything. Except at some point, I realized something was missing. In all the books I read and treasured as a child, I never saw myself.
Books aren’t written by merely one person, though, despite what the name on the cover might suggest. They are intricate patchworks made by many talented, passionate, and generous people.
