Maerina

Mai was born in the midst of carnage. The emotions that formed her very being, carved into her bones like a curse, were embedded by her mother, feet carrying her away from the harsh crowds as they chanted in protest at her very existence. Her mother, a gumiho, had been residing in the human realm with her father, of the same race, in harmony with the humans– until their home was infiltrated by raiders, and their true natures were revealed. Thus, they ran. They had little choice in the matter– Humans chased with fire and iron, feet kicking up mud as Mai’s mother clutched her baby to her chest. She cried to the Gods for something, anything to help her daughter escape from the carnage– and soon, the Gods answered. Reality split, opening an entrance to the veil between life and death. Mai’s mother fled with her father into the fog, the slit closing firmly behind them. Mai’s mother placed her down in the shallow water, running a hand gently over her face.
“The Gods will protect you,” she breathed worriedly. “But I can’t stay. The humans will find me, in life and death– So long as I’m here, you won’t be safe.” Mai’s mother and father stood, sparing prayers, before taking off deep into the veil with glossy eyes and trembling hands. The Gods granted Mai something she didn’t understand until she was much older, until her eyes had creased and her limbs were long. She had grown amongst the spirits and the demons, accompanying them through the veil, yet never truly understanding what lay beyond it. She never questioned, just understood, in the depths of her mind, that she was protected. She hadn’t explicitly been told that her job was to guard the veil, but she understood her task. The Gods didn’t speak; they sent symbols in cryptic ways that she learned to unravel over time. Eventually, they sent her the most obvious of the symbols– A dokkaebi, clad in white. Baeko, he called himself, a protector sent by the Gods to ensure her safety in the veil. They remained together for centuries, bonding over silence and boredom. Spirits came and went, but Mai and Baeko remained together, spiritually intertwined. Though the veil occasionally felt like a cage, Mai and Baeko found comfort in each other, in the warmth of their flesh as a contrast to the chill of the spirits, and in quiet words shared in small moments. Though the veil was an ever-changing, vast landscape, it was only a matter of time until something fell apart. A spirit, that of a feline potent enough to disrupt the flow of the veil, ripped through the realm, causing trouble wherever it went. Mai spent days tracking the spirit down before they fell into a chase, with Mai in hot pursuit. “I won’t hurt you– I just want to help,” she cried as the spirit fled. Her legs pressed forward, too quickly to stop herself as the world ripped open and consumed her, Baeko, and the reckless spirit whole. She fell for what felt like hours, diving into nothingness, before landing on the ground in a bright, unfamiliar realm. Sounds overwhelmed her senses as Baeko pulled her to her feet. She recognized the world, as her eyes adjusted, from the tales the spirits told in their passing– She had somehow fallen into the human realm. The cat curled up at her feet, trembling softly in fear. She leaned down to gather the spirit into her arms, holding it close to her chest as she shared a wary glance toward Baeko. The rift had closed behind them– Whatever this unfamiliar realm held, they had to face it, together, without the Gods, or spirits– On their own.