A Legend Untold

여우.

Yeou.

Haneul couldn’t imagine what went through the minds of Yeou’s parents to name her something so vile. So accusing. Fox. As flattering as it is to have a human named after one’s own kind, Haneul could only imagine the poor girl growing up with eggs thrown at her head and people pushing her off swing sets. Whatever weird things bullies did in the 21st century. 

 Maybe foxes had finally lost their bad rep around town. People can change after centuries of labeling gumihos as seductive villains for wanting to fit in with their two-legged, two-handed friends. Enemies. It genuinely depends on who you ask. 

Nevertheless, as much as he wishes to hope, it was unlikely that humans had left their judgemental ways behind, so Haneul made the best decision he could to protect Yeou. 

Kill her. 

Just kidding. Haneul has decided murdering isn't the best way to live a long, gumiho life. He's changed since the 1400s. Seriously. He swears on all nine of his tails.

 In the middle of the night, Haneul left the rural land where the so-called “solitary” gumihos roamed. He traveled to the small house that little Yeou abides in. Her parents were sleeping in what the humans call a “master bedroom,” for the significant people of the family. They were usually the tallest ones that grew shriveled skin as time went on.

Haneul pranced into the child’s room (a nursery, they call it), which was easily identifiable with a sign taped to the wall. A funny word was written in perfect print, highlighted by the moonlight for all to read. 공주. Gongju. Princess. As if a princess would live in this small town, unguarded by soldiers with sharp blades and petrifying glares. Perhaps the parents knew that Haneul was out for their daughter. This could be a trap to intimidate him. Oh well. Only one way to find out. 

Sauntering through the door like a bored angel strolling through heaven, Haneul found Yeou laying with a lavender-hued blanket wrapped around her. The baby’s lips pursed in a "heart shape," as people call it (which isn't actually the shape of a human heart). Yeou’s whole stomach rose with each breath like a little beast was sleeping instead of an infant. 

Yeou had been placed in a white cage without a top, as if her parents wanted to prove their power over the baby from her very first moments on earth. If Haneul was human, he would roll his eyes at the display of mightiness. However, Haneul was not human, so he simply wrapped one thick tail around her light form, another tail against the child’s mouth in case she began to screech in that horrible way babies do. Then, he trudged out of the house, just the way he came. 

Haneul took her far, far away from any gumiho’s-or human’s-sight. Fox spirits didn’t like him anyway, for his merciful, relatively kind manners towards humans. So he left without turning back once.

Y’see? Haneul may be a gumiho but he is a sweet creature, too. You just need to give him a chance.

*

For a human child, Yeou certainly grew up quickly, and she grew very beautiful, as well. She had that glow that many couldn’t even attain after smothering mud and thin masks on their faces. Haneul could only imagine her in the fifteenth century, luring innocent ladies and gentlemen into their deaths for 1,000 years. Obviously, he was not very supportive of that abusive behavior anymore, so Haneul didn’t force her to run into forests and make wanderers fall in love with her. It’s not like anyone even went through these forests anymore. That’s why Yeou and Haneul were so safe from any nasty humans.

The pair didn’t have to worry about gumihos, either. Haneul hadn’t seen another enchanted fox since Yeou turned three in human years. It was odd, but perhaps the fox spirits had all finished their killings and become human. Maybe they even left for a better life like Haneul, ceasing to kill humans for pleasure. Either way, the fewer gumihos and humans roaming near them, the safer Haneul’s poor girl is. 

Well, Yeou couldn’t even be called “poor girl” anymore, despite her unfortunate name. She was strong, swift, and smart, spending most of her time racing through the forest and bringing back trinkets from her journeys. Her favorite was a gold earring that she punctured through her right ear.

 Haneul slept through most days and hunted for food at dusk. Don’t worry, he only killed rabbits and the occasional chipmunk. He even kept Yeou’s diet to mostly berries and plants. Apparently, humans can get protein poisoning from eating too many rabbits. It was laughable because there’s no such thing as too many rabbits in the gumiho world.

This nightfall was just like any other. Haneul was patiently waiting for Yeou to come back to their den with a golden earring, metallic locket, or any other random token of adventure. However, when Yeou was back, she did not carry a smooth crystal or bewitching ring. She was dragging something else into the den. 

A dead human.

With brown, lustrous hair matted with blood at her shoulders and sharp features that would make a siren cry in jealousy. Red fingerprints were scattered over her neck. Yeou had strangled her to death.

Communication with Yeou has never been a problem. Haneul peered up at her, pulling off his best inquiring look while maintaining unwavering eye contact. He can’t show fear or hatred towards the human child. She would lash out in anger.

Yeou seemed to understand, bringing a bloody finger up to his eyes and then back to the other human’s closed eyelids. Bending down, Yeou opened the dead being’s eyes. Solid gold. Just like Haneul’s.

 Another gumiho. The first one Haneul had seen since Yeou was of walking age laid dead at his paws. That was probably a good thing, though, considering that this fox was likely attempting to kill Yeou. Waving the girl away, the gumiho grasped the dead spirit by its neck and dragged it into the night. Haneul peered around for a moment, ensuring that no other gumiho knows about Yeou before venturing into the forest, and finding a place to bury the dead body.

Or he could just leave it in the water.

Haneul was dragging the body towards the river when the human-gumiho, leg twitched. Then her arm. Then her golden eyes opened wide, like the sun glaring at the sky. 

“Murderer.” she muttered in a silky voice. 

Figures. Gumihos don’t die easily. 

Dropping the spirit to the grass, Haneul trills in questioning. 

“Go to our land. You’ll see.”

Though he takes a bite of the bewildering gumiho’s neck, he still obeys, wanting to see the remainder of his kind.

It took half an hour for Haneul to reach the abandoned suburbs of the town, but he took in every step like he was savoring a bite of a delectable snack. Nostalgia was common amongst gumihos.

But the moment Haneul stepped into the plains where the gumihos slept, any wave of bittersweet ecstasy left him and he understood the words of the now-dead spirit that Yeou dragged in. 

Murderer.

No wonder Haneul hadn’t seen another gumiho in years. 

Across the land, enchanted spirits lay dead on the ground, in both human and fox form. Shredded, limb for limb in cold blood. It was a bloodbath. Who could do such a deed?

And naturally, upon further inspection, Haneul found his answer. 

Every gumiho in human form was missing something. But what caught Haneul’s eye was a gumiho with one gold earring hanging on her left ear. And he knew exactly where the other one was. 

Before he could react, someone was on top of him, elbow against his throat. Haneul didn’t need to look to know who it was. 

Murderer.