Q: Harrison, what is your vignette about?
A: Yong and Nuwa are characters from the upcoming book Shadow Hunter. "Yong and the Goddess" uncovers the origins of what and who inhabits the Blue world the Shadow watches open. It's the story of a young boy who loses his way after following a trickster into the forest at the end of the world, where he meets Nuwa.
In this "way-back" short story, readers discover the origins of Yong (the maker of Shadow watches) as a youth and the mysterious Nuwa, goddess of the Blue.
Q: What are the roots of the story?
The story is rooted in Chinese mythology. While the world is Ada’s, Nuwa is one of the Three Sovereigns of Chinese mythology, and I wanted to write something that would do her justice. I’m a huge fantasy lover, too, so anytime I get to write about magic, I’m thrilled. I’m particularly fond of the type of magic found in mythology and folktales because it’s something that people used to believe in, or maybe still do. I like to think that such a strong belief makes it more real. It definitely makes it more fun to write about.
YONG AND THE GODDESS
by Harrison Kayne
Yong was lost. The setting sun painted the glade around him in shades of red and orange, resembling fire spreading across the heavens. His belly rumbled with hunger, and Yong tasted salt as a fat tear rolled down his round cheeks. Early this morning, before either of his parents awoke, a voice whispered from his paper windows, offering plump pears and sweet lychee.
“Follow me, little friend.”
Yong had rubbed his eyes, still groggy with sleep, and followed the voice outside. Dew dampened his bare toes as he walked through the blooming garden, passed the sleeping chickens and pigs, around the mountain lake colored gold by the sun, to the edge of the forest.
Yong said, “Mama and Baba always tell me to be wary of the forest because it touches the end of the world. If I’m not careful, I’ll fall off the side. I won’t take another step.”
“I’m trapped beneath a log,” said the voice, soft and sweet. “If you don’t help me, I can’t share all my delicious treats.”
Yong took one step in, then another. The air filled with scents of earth and moss, and Yong wondered if Mama and Baba were awake and making breakfast. He wandered the unfamiliar wood, with only a disembodied voice luring him deeper into the unknown.
“Where are you?” Yong asked, his heart racing as sweat trickled down his back.
“Right here!” The voice cackled.
It came from somewhere above, in the mass of tangled branches. As Yong looked up, a giant monkey grinned down at him, revealing jagged fangs and a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“You deceived me,” Yong cried. With an angry stomp, he scrambled up the tree to try and catch the trickster.
The monkey only laughed and taunted the boy before rushing off, the promises of peaches and lychee broken beneath the ominous creaking of the forest.
Now, Yong sat in the glade he found, feet raw from walking barefoot, belly empty, mouth dry, and face stained with tears. Grass as green as jade stones brushed against his arms and legs, but it didn’t cheer him.
What have I done? he thought, fighting terror as he watched the sun setting through the break in the forest. When the moon filled the sky, the monsters would come out, hiding in shadows too strong for even the great moon to dissipate.
Legend said tigers liked to creep in the dark, as did spirits, and both enjoyed the taste of little boys. Even now, they probably smelled his fear on the wind, stirring the hunger in their own bellies.
Yong started crying again. “Baba, Mama, where are you? Without you, I will never find my way home.”
The sound of footsteps startled him from his misery, and he curled into a ball and tucked into the grass. Perhaps they’ll mistake me for a stone, he thought, worrying it might be a monster from one of Baba’s stories.
Instead, a beautiful woman stepped from the trees. Regal and lovelier than even the fairest lotus flower from Mama’s pond. She wore a green silk skirt and blouse tied around the middle with a yellow sash. Painted along the hem of the skirt and sleeves was a story Yong couldn’t fully see. As the woman moved further into the clearing, Yong saw dark hair flowing around her shoulders and down her back, matching the gentle eyes set within a round face.
“You don’t have to hide, Yong. I mean no harm.”
Yong lifted his head. “Are you a spirit?”
The woman laughed. “No.”
“A trickster?”
She stopped a few feet away from him. “I’m no trickster. I’m the lady of this land, and you, one of my people. We met once, long ago; you were only an infant then.
”
“Why are you here?” Yong wanted to trust the woman; he liked the peaceful way she smiled, but he wouldn’t forget the monkey’s betrayal.
“I heard your tears and came to help. The cries of my people poke holes in my heart, for you are my dearest creations.” She reached for him, and he noticed her fingers had been dipped in gold. “Here, this is yours.” The hand opened and inside lay a stone carved into the shape of a dragon with a woman’s face—the very stone that sat in Mama and Baba’s kitchen.
Yong gasped and jumped to his feet. “Where did you get his?”
“From your Mama and Baba.”
“Can you take me home?”
“Yes,” she said with another laugh. “Take my hand.”
Yong did and marveled at how soft her palm felt around his. The woman took one step, then another, and another. Before long, they were out of the forest and standing before his home. The sun had set, allowing the moon to highlight everything with silver.
Yong gasped and then bowed at the woman. “Thank you! Thank you! Please, will you tell me your name so I might tell my parents who saved me?”
“You may call me Nuwa. Now go inside, Yong, and get some rest. I will see you again. You have a grand future ahead of you, my son.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead.
Yong blinked, and Nuwa was gone, leaving him alone. Then, the smell of fresh rice and dumplings made his stomach rumble, and he went inside to reunite with his parents.
MORE ABOUT HARRISON KAYNE
I started writing when I was ten years old after reluctantly completing a poem assignment for school. The moment I put pen to paper, I fell in love. Plus, I figured, after years of trying and failing to find a fairy circle I could toss myself into, writing about them seemed like the next best thing.
I’ve published short stories in Anthea Sharp’s Feyland: Volume One, and G. Owen Wears Exterus. I’m currently co-authoring Shadow Hunter with KJ Fieler and have a new story, “Adalyn’s Call,” in Anthea Sharp’s The Feyland Tales Omnibus.
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