Creative Writing: The Dragon King

892 Words2 Pages

I reached into the hidden pocket of my robe sleeve and pulls out a couple of tangerines -- from the grove we’d seen a few minutes ago, actually -- peeling part of the skin of one of them with my fingernail so it’ll be easier for Minho, with his bitten-down nails, to peel, and handing it to him.
“So after Confucianism and Buddhism and all that came around, lots of people kept leaving gifts for the spirits. After all,” I peeled a long strip of orange skin. “We wouldn’t want them to be angry with us and tell Yeongdeung to send stronger winds.” The wind whipped at our faces as soon as I finished talking.
“So you’re telling me this is the wind … when the spirits aren’t angry?”
“Exactly,” I replied. “A gentle breeze.”
“Who is Yeongdeung?”
“The …show more content…

The Dragon King’s wife is the warrior goddess who protects the people of Jeju from enemies. If you ever go on the Coastal Road you’ll see Yeongduam, the Dragon Head Rock. This rock is what remains of Yimugi, the Dragon King’s serpent messenger. He was sent on a dangerous mission to get a jewel from Mount Halla, but as soon as he flew out of the Dragon King’s territory to retrieve the jewel, he was shot straight through the heart by the god protecting Mount Halla. He fell back into the ocean, and only his head and a few other parts of his body remained above water, turning into the same hard rock as Mount Halla.,” I explained. The colorful ribbons of fabric float in the wind and the branches of the goddess tree growing out of the rock whistle like the divers coming up for …show more content…

Three eggs were laid on the base of the altar. Someone had left them there, recently, and it was thanks to the bone-chilling winter air that they haven’t gone bad yet. Another egg was on the ground, broken, its whites spilling out and chilled to a thick gel.
“You’re supposed to come and say your prayers before the sun rises. After that, she isn’t here. She’s going to be around the village looking over things, but it can be dangerous to climb these hills in the dark unless you’ve memorized every detail of the trail.”
“I suppose we’re late for leaving prayers.”
The wind rustled the pieces of cloth in the trees and branches again, red, pink, and blue. “Don’t worry, we still can,” I said, taking out two pieces of paper I’d tucked into my robes earlier, scribbling my name and Minho’s on them with a piece of charcoal, and handing a piece to Minho. “You just have to leave it there for her, so she can read it

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