Light pulsed in time with music. A car engine revved, announcing to the world its expensive make. Just some gaudy sportscar. The vehicle sped through the darkness, trying but never quite succeeding to escape the light pollution. The vibrant glow of Seoul was a constant halo that lurked around the countryside’s velvet midnight.

Haneul switched gears and the car drifted around a turn. He enjoyed the weightless feeling that followed the press of the pedal to the floor, that immediate rushing on. Unrestrained, laughter burst from his chest, and the pleased shit-eating grin that plastered itself on his face was a rebellious kind of relief. Putting himself–the Kim heir–in an environment where he acted completely unfettered and unbothered would have spurned the ever-loving daylights from his family. “Your behavior is unbecoming of your station,” they’d scold. And Haneul would only listen half-heartedly. 

After all, he did his job and he did it well. 

Whether or not he sought every adrenaline rush along the way was his business alone. He had to bury his self-destructive depression somehow, and his more physically destructive ways were something his friends had been trying to steer him away from. It wasn’t easy being the son of the CEO to the biggest international middlemen conglomerate around. One day, it would be his role to take. But now was not that day, and he appreciated being able to enjoy the vicariously-adventurous life he lived before a cage of executives, swindlers, and corruption permanently trapped him.  

The car revved one last time, and pulled to a stop at an outcropping that overlooked the city near the hiking trails entrance for Bukhansan park. The mountains loomed like faithful sentinels, blocking some of the radiance from the city while caging and amplifying other parts of the neon glow. Perhaps it was beautiful. Certainly not many people saw the view like this or bothered to seek it out for that matter. It was a tourist vantage point, used mostly during the day for happy-go-lucky onlookers before they decided to embark on the closest bus to the trails. But at night, it was hardly used. 

It was too out of the way, and for anyone unpracticed with navigating the narrow streets and many turns, it was a touch dangerous—the cliffs of the mountain steep and hardly visible under the cover of night.

As such, it made the perfect getaway for him. Haneul appreciated the distance and inconvenient location, finding it just off-grid enough for him to enjoy the stars and quiet night. He turned off the engine and killed the headlights. Exiting his vehicle, he hopped up onto the hood, and once he made his way to the roof, he gingerly sat down and reclined back after several deep breaths, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest with every inhale. 

For one moment everything seemed right with the world. He didn’t have to focus on the busy life he left back in Seoul, or the meeting with his father and potential marriage partner that he had run away from. That caused his teeth to clench and reflux to threaten the back of his throat. Forcing the nasty thought away, he closed his eyes and lifted his chin towards the sky. The gentle wind that often brushed by the outlook trickled over his skin and through his hair. He relaxed and eased until he was lounging on his back. This was enough, he thought. This was enough to pretend happiness existed. 

He’d continue to meet the expectations without complaint and with flawless work—proving that he was capable of succeeding his father someday. But now in this moment, the wanderlust that edged at his heart and constantly tugged at his soul was appeased by the expanse of the night sky overhead.

It was as if he could truly feel the tilt of Earth’s axis, a hypnotic rock toward the horizon that only his eyes could observe. Normally the sky was alive in a place like this. Above the darkened canopy of trees and towering high over the crowded city, the stars danced. But something about this night was different. 

The sky blazed furiously and each star pulsed like a planet, not a twinkle, but a sure and confident existence of light. 

Each pinprick was less of a constellation and more of a dazzling path. As if guiding the way. Guiding the way for someone to follow. 

He stood up on the roof of his car. His hand shielded his brow as his gaze searched the sky desperately. It was some gut feeling, he didn’t know why. But the insatiable tug at his heart told him to be ready. To be ready to catch whatever the stars heralded. 

The wanderlust thundered against his ribs like a train, and it felt as though he may topple over from the intensity of its call. 

A spiral of blinding radiance exploded and Haneul flipped off the top of his car, a shockwave hitting the hood sending him hurtling. 

The bright light forced his eyes to water and squeeze shut as he pressed close to the car. Wind howled and the world lurched violently as another aftershock smashed into his vehicle. Hell, he was just enjoying a pleasant midnight drive and had not been anticipating the second coming of Christ to trash his car. 

Darkness began to seep again behind his eyelids and no longer painted the white-noise of his closed off vision with stars or psychedelic colors. More than he cared to admit, his body refused to move. His limbs stiffened and trembled and each ounce he poured into his strength immediately seeped away. Fright was no stranger to him, he had to deal with constant fear. However this was an entirely different level of terror. 

He could practically smell the difference in the air. 

Light was not the only thing that touched down on the outcropping that night. He tried to crane his head around the side to see the front of the hood, but he was tucked away behind the trunk. If he wanted to catch a glimpse of whatever had landed, he would have to scoot out from his hiding spot and get closer to whatever was at the front of the car. Absolutely not. Oh god, how was he supposed to get into the driver's door? He needed to leave. But what was he supposed to do? They don’t teach you at uni or corporate training how to escape unidentified objects hurtling themselves from the stratosphere! If he didn’t round the car and get to the driver’s door…. 

Frustration curbed his movements and left him stagnant before finally, after several minutes of rage quitting, he pushed one foot straight out and then the other. He uncurled himself from his fetal position and sat up straight. Step one accomplished. It took a lot more coaxing for his body to stand up, but he finally managed to take in the damage from his fall. Torn suit pants—damn—and ripped elbows of his favorite jacket—double damn. 

But he was overall alive. So at least that was something...for most people.

He shuffled over to the front of the car, fists raised and ready to throw hands with whatever may come his way. 

Much to his surprise, and perhaps not, something was on the hood of his car. A long and lanky creature—almost human at the most basic level. A human face, and human arms, and body covered by burnt and torn clothing. The creature's legs were too long and almost stilted like a crane's, despite the knee high boots that made him almost think it was just the trick of the night. Long lavender hair draped off the metal and down toward the gravel on the earth. But the most odd thing was the set of wings on the back of this thing. There were three pairs: a large upper pair, a narrow and longer lower pair, and then a tiny pair in the middle. 

Haneul laughed. “Well…goddamn.”

What else could he do?

The creature’s upper right wing was bleeding and holding on by just skin and muscle, the broken bone poking out from the wound. Haneul laughed again. Of course the thing was hurt. Anyone with that injury would probably keel over and give up. 

He felt like he was staring right into the eyes of some humanitarians-for-pets commercial. 

A groan shivered from the creature’s lips, and he found that his guilt made quick work of forming a troubled and heavy pit in his stomach.

“Whoa whoa, this is totally crazy,” Haneul muttered to himself. “A strange lanky purple string bean landed on my car.”

He paced back and forth, trying to figure out if he should stop the bleeding or put the creature out of its misery. “Why is this even an argument? It’s in pain!”

He tried not to think about the sharp and tapered claws at the end of the creature’s hands. “What if it tries to kill me?”

Sheer anxieted flooded through his system and rushed through his chest in a bout of white hot panic. Now he wondered if it would be a good time to drink the emergency bottle of scotch in the back of his car.

The emergency scotch!

He rushed to the trunk and yanked it open. Fishing around for a second, he found the bug-out bag he kept hidden in the back corner. He took the bottle of liquor and threw off his jacket, tearing the sleeves off where the elbows were already ruined from his fall. It took a minute, but he managed to maneuver himself up onto the hood of his car and balance the creature’s broken and bleeding wing on his lap. A slight hiss came from the thing’s pursed lips, but no other protest. Quick to make his prayers and funeral arrangements in his head, Haneul poured some of the liquor onto the strips of fabric and began to daub at the wound. 

Screeching tore out from the creature and he flinched back, realizing that being gentle would not be kind. He poured the scotch directly onto the open rupture, placing a hand on the chest of the creature as it convulsed and...sobbed. Even as he held a firm grip to the creature’s outer shirt, a nagging guilt yanked forcefully at his ear, and he offered soothing affirmations as best as he could. He’d want to be reassured if it were him.

The tunic underneath his hand wrinkled as the creature writhed until it eventually stilled, tears pricking at the corners of its eyes and mouth gaped open slightly. Haneul gently patted it, feeling absolutely terrible now. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Gingerly, he swiped at the wound with a clean piece of fabric, tired but gentle. The wound itself hadn’t been bleeding much, in fact it seemed scorched. But the hint of bone had grayed, and the skin around the wound had yellowed with possible signs of infection. This was so not how this night was supposed to go...but, after another exhausted glance at the face of this newcomer, he was glad he was here for this. There was a surprising beauty to this thing, and if no one had found its body by morning, it would probably be left for dead.

Or worse, left for the authorities to find and imprison at some research facility. That otherworldly beauty no doubt would wilt and eventually wither away. 

That idea left a gross and bile nag at the edge of his tongue. 

This was real. This creature was real. And whether or not he was a hundred percent ready, it needed his help.

He racked his brain for any idea of just what this thing was. Depending on which culture or which era you looked into, there would be a number of ideas. Ancient Greeks believed in harpies. Mesoamericans believed that many of their gods like the twin Quetzalcoatl could take the form of winged humanoids. Of course the early Christians started what would become the modern ideology of angels. Both the Germanic and Norse had their valkyries. So what was this…creature? Just something more terrifying than a tunic or haloed portrayal? He certainly could see the valkyrie aspect, despite the lack of armor… He would have to look into it further if he survived the encounter and if the creature survived as well.

When he tied the last strip of fabric securely around the wound, he used his belt as a band around the elbow to keep the severed sides from jostling or splitting further. He didn’t know if it would work, but the slash ran deep into the wing, and he was fairly certain it would need to be sewn and braced in order for it to heal properly. Even then, he wondered if it would heal properly to be used for flight. But what now? He’d helped this thing, he’d done his daily good deed for the day. If he took this back to his penthouse, he could at least assure it some relative safety—then what? It would wake up and eat him? Or his family doctor is summoned, said-doctor arrives, and then they both are eaten. He sighed in exasperation. Clearly he’d seen too many horror movies. 

Okay. Step two, part b. Get the creature into the car. Step two, part c. Drive home. Step three, call a doctor or a vet. 

Actually, should he call a vet? A human would require a doctor but this thing seemed to be as much bird as it looked human…ish. 

He slid off the hood, and tucked his arms underneath the creature’s body, having a mini battle with all the wings in his way. Finally, he managed to scrunch the feather limbs against its back and pulled the rest of the body into the crook of his arms. It took some maneuvering to avoid harming the already injured limb, but he lifted it against his chest only to stumble back dangerously close to the overlook. Too close for comfort. Sweat beaded at his brow and he tried not to think about the fact that he could stagger off into oblivion with just one wrong step. One trembling foot after the other, he heaved the creature towards the back of the car—and began the disheartening process of laying it across the backseat. It was long and tall, more so than any normal human. If he had to guess, he’d say a solid two hundred plus centimeters. Which was way, way more space than his vehicle allowed. He meticulously stationed it at an awkward angle. The creature looked scrunched and infinitely crumpled in the small backseat, but once Haneul strapped in the seat belts to all three seats—one around the shoulder, one around the torso, and one around the legs, he felt fairly certain his guest would not be rolling around while unconscious. 

Slipping into the driver’s seat, he ignited the engine. A hum flushed through his nostrils and he drummed his fingers along the rim of his steering wheel. He lost all of his scotch with injury cleanup. And while drinking and driving wouldn’t be his most glamorous, he felt as though it were necessary. It honestly wouldn’t the first time. 

Instead he used the phone-to-car and dialed his chief of security. 

“I need you to sweep the first floor of the building.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I need you personally to help me carry some...luggage out of my car to the elevator.”

“Luggage?” The chief, Jiu Seong, carefully formed the question as if he didn’t quite follow. “Did you go shopping?”

“No.”

“Are...are you bringing home entertainment?” 

“Ugh. Also no. Just be ready once I text you. Please.”

“Of course, boss.”

The call ended and by that point, he honestly just wanted to throw himself off the cliff. 

Haneul pulled the car out of park and made his way back into the city.