Khem felt as though he had drifted into a vast, empty void. Everything around him was pitch black, with only a dense white mist and smoke swirling in the air, obscuring all visibility.
Where is this place...Khem could only ponder to himself, the uncertainty making him too scared to even move.
Khem was certain he was dreaming, but the unfamiliar situation filled him with fear.
Please wake up, Khem, I beg you.
Time passed slowly. Khem felt like he had been standing there for hours.
Just as he was about to reach the peak of his anxiety, he suddenly heard a voice:
'Khem...come this way, my child.' In the distance, a woman in a white blouse and a traditional Thai skirt was standing, waving him over.
"Mom...is it really you, Mom?" Khem bit his lip, holding back tears, his heart beating rapidly out of fear that it might not truly be his mother.
'It's me, my son. Don't be afraid, I'll take you out of here.' Her voice was warm, something telling him that it was indeed his mother.
"Mom!" Overwhelmed by his longing for his mother, Khem quickly wiped his tears and ran towards her with joy.
"Mom, I missed you so much." Khem embraced his mother, but he could not feel her warmth, as if he was hugging emptiness itself.
This only confirmed that she was no longer alive in the real world, merely a spirit appearing in his dream...
His mother nodded and smiled at Khem, then took his hand and led him forward.
Not long after, Khem saw a light, and suddenly his mother stopped walking. She turned to him with a smile and said:
"Khem, follow that light, my child." Khem looked at his mother with concern, his heart aching so much he almost cried.
"And...what about you, Mom?"
"I can't go, dear. Hurry up, don't worry about me."
"But..." Khem was about to argue when another voice intruded into this dimension.
"Khem, can you hear me, Khem?" It was Jett's voice, sounding very urgent.
Khem bit his lip to hold back tears, gently squeezing his mother's cold hands.
"Mom, come find me again, okay? I'll wait for you, Mom."
His mother smiled and nodded.
"Go quickly." After his mother agreed, Khem reluctantly turned and ran towards the white light that was not far away, which was growing larger and larger until...
Gasp!
Khem jolted awake, his heart pounding so fast he was breathing heavily, then he saw Jett's face sitting by the bed.
"Jett..."
"Yeah, you finally woke up." Jett looked greatly relieved. Khem slowly sat up, gently rubbing his face.
"I dreamt I was somewhere unknown, it was so dark, full of fog and smoke...At first, I was really scared, but then suddenly Mom came to me, Jett. Since she passed away, I've never felt her presence until now. What happened...?" Before Khem could finish speaking, he noticed how weary Jett looked, with dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept at all.
"Jett, what happened last night?" Khem asked, his large eyes flickering with curiosity.
Jett had already told Khem about the incident on the tour bus before they went to sleep, how he had nearly put everyone in danger.
He hadn't realized that it wasn't over yet...
Looking at Khem, Jett felt pity for his friend. He didn't want to tell him, but Khem needed to know because it was Pharan and the other village shamans who had saved him.
"Khem. You need to calm down and listen to me..." Jett recounted everything he knew. From hearing the loud screeches of the owls on the roof, which are considered an ill omen since owls are believed to be ghost birds, to many people with magical abilities coming to this place. Jett heard the master chanting the Assembly of Deities spell, which the master had once used to subdue numerous spirits during the incident of the forest breaking five years ago when he was still a monk.
Last night was the second time Jett heard the master chant this spell, indicating that a large number of spirits were approaching, which turned out to be true. After that, Jett heard the high-pitched shrieks of the pretas, similar to what he heard on the tour bus, along with the stench of decay like that of corpses, and the foul smell of ghosts carried by the wind.
Jett thought they must have come for Khem.
"Five years ago, after the master finished invoking the deities, the spirits retreated back into the deep forest. They didn't bother the villagers again, but last night, I heard the sound of rain and thunder multiple times consecutively. After that, the sun rose, and everything returned to normal. It was amazing, but I regret not going out to see it."
Khem bit his lip tightly.
"I'm sorry, Jett."
"Hey, I didn't say it to make you feel bad, I just wanted you to know that last night, the master and the villagers saved you. Go take a shower and then go see the master. Thank him properly." Khem nodded in agreement, although his eyes were still somewhat downcast.
It was now only half past six, with half an hour to spare. After showering and dressing, Khem followed Jett to the central area used for ceremonies.
The master, in a long-sleeved black shirt and matching trousers, was still sitting on a raised wooden platform.
Jett crawled forward, stopped at a respectful distance, and bowed, then looked up to pay respects with his hands clasped, smiling shyly. Khem followed suit, but after bowing, he kept his eyes down, unable to meet the master's gaze, who looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes far worse than Jett's, feeling guilty.
Pharan looked at Jett with a gaze as sharp as a knife before turning to the other boy who was sitting small beside him.
"You, are you Khem?"
"Yes, that's me, sir."
"Come closer." Khem gave a small start, looked up, blinking as if unsure whether he heard correctly.
"Go ahead." Jett, still with his hands clasped, leaned in to whisper. Khem opened his mouth slightly and then closed it, quickly crawling forward to kneel and clasp his hands before the master who was seated higher, but he didn't dare to look up at the master's face.
After taking a shower earlier, before meeting the master, Jett had told Khem not to make eye contact with the master for more than three seconds, but he didn't explain why. If Jett didn't tell him, Khem wouldn't ask; he always followed what Jett said without question.
Pharan wasn't concerned with how Khem reacted to him. What he was curious about and had been pondering since last night were the words of the ghost Madam Ramphueng, the nemesis of Khem.
"But I'll tell you this, your grandfather's magic can't do anything to
me..."
Madam Ramphueng knew Pharan's grandfather, no doubt they had met before, and he felt very familiar with Khem's real name, so he wanted to verify something to put his mind at ease.
"The thing you're wearing around your neck, show it to me." He said calmly. The other boy trembled slightly before pretending to take off the necklace.
"Just show it, no need to take it off." Khem swallowed, slightly startled by the stern tone of the master, but complied by pulling out the sacred thread necklace over his shirt, then placed his hands on his lap and tilted his head back, closing his eyes for the master to see clearly.
"Here it is." The master's face was expressionless, while Jett tried hard not to laugh. He had never seen anyone so scared of the master yet look so funny in their fear.
Pharan, who was sitting in meditation, unfolded his legs and placed his feet on the ground, picking up a betel leaf from a brass tray, using it to lift Khem's talisman. He leaned in close to examine it. Khem caught a faint pleasant scent from the master and closed his eyes tightly, not daring to breathe deeply.
Pharan narrowed his eyes. This was a genuine tiger-hide talisman, one of only three in the world, blessed by his grandfather. One was in the possession of his grandfather's close friend, a well-known monk who now lived as a forest-dwelling monk; Pharan hadn't heard from him in years.
The second was his, as he was his grandson.
The last one, he never thought, would belong to this boy who had no apparent connection to his grandfather.
Pharan remembered now. This was about sixteen years ago. At that time, he was in middle school, and his grandfather often traveled to various provinces to exorcize ghosts as requested, accompanied by three disciples:
Uncle Chaiya, Uncle Lah, and Uncle Mek, the three most powerful shamans in this village.
That day, Grandpa came to visit him at home. At that time, he was still with his father. Grandpa brought snacks and local souvenirs from the provinces he had visited, and as usual, he shared stories about his work.
Grandpa had met a family in Kanchanaburi; it was a family of three -
father, mother, and child...
"The parents aren't the issue, but the three-year-old child has a bad fate, cursed by a spirit with a vendetta against his life. No matter how many times they tried to ward off the curse, it didn't get better. Every time the child gets sick, he's on the brink of death. At this rate, he probably won't live to see five..."
"Oh, the child's name is Khemjira, it's quite fitting, but the bearer of the name is a boy, you know..."
Seeing the child's adorable face, Grandpa took a liking to him. So, he gave him a tiger claw amulet. "Haha." Grandpa laughed merrily, but at that time, Pharan, not quite understanding, frowned and asked:
"Grandpa...Didn't you say we shouldn't interfere with others' karmic debts?"
Grandpa nodded.
"Well, yes, but when I saw his face, I couldn't help but feel pity for him.
Once you help, you help."
After that, ten years passed, and Grandpa died of old age, but before passing, he suffered greatly and was in excruciating pain. The image of Grandpa vomiting black blood, writhing in pain, and deliriously seeking death every night was still vivid in Pharan's memory, especially Grandpa's dying wish that he would remember forever:
"Be a white magician, not a black one, and don't meddle in others' karmic affairs. Unless you want to suffer like me."
Pharan let go of the amulet and moved back to his original position after receiving the answer. What he was about to tell the boy in front of him was this:
A pottery jar inscribed with runes to bind a spirit was placed in front of Khem. The master said:
"The spirit in this jar is your mother's." Upon hearing this, Khem's heart sank, his eyes widened in disbelief, staring at the pottery jar as if he couldn't believe it.
"Ma...Mom?" Pharan nodded slightly, not caring whether Khem believed it or not.
"Your mother has been with you all this time. She's a spirit with little power, but she's managed to stay because of her pure intention to protect her child."
"..."
"Her accumulated merit from when she was alive, combined with the protective amulet you've worn since childhood, has kept her from being taken by other spirits to become their servant."
"..."
"But now, the magic in the talisman has completely faded. Your mother only survived because someone has been sending her merit and loving-kindness..." Khem's eyes burned with emotion. The person referred to must have been the father abbot, as Khem hadn't had time to make merit for his mother in recent months.
Pharan watched Khem's face, which was beginning to tear up, without any intention of sparing his feelings.
"Your mother isn't a protected spirit; last night, if I hadn't sheltered her in this pot, she would likely have been destroyed by the stray magic."
Remembering the dream he had this morning, Khem couldn't hold back his tears. He believed every word the master said, so he bowed down to the floor.
"Thank you so much, masterer, thank you for saving my mother." Pharan looked at Khem without acknowledging the thanks, then continued,
"From now on, the ghost that's your nemesis will grow even more powerful. If your mother continues to linger around to protect you like this, it won't be long before that ghost takes her." Khem shook his head in refusal, tears streaming down his face, his large eyes pleading as he looked at the master's face.
"Then...what should I do, master?" Pharan placed the magical pot in front.
"Take it to the temple, perform the rites to send her spirit to the reincarnation where it should be."
"Huh." Khem nodded, wiping his tears with his sleeve before embracing the pot.
"Can I do it tomorrow, master? I...I want to spend one more night with my mother." Pharan watched Khem, who was crying with a runny nose. Not
wanting to admit he felt sorry for him, he pretended to sip his black coffee and replied softly,
"Do whatever you want."
"Thank you, master." Khem bowed again with joy, it was almost time to meet with the club members. He quickly took the pot containing his mother to his bedroom.
Khem placed his mother's pot on the head of the bed, before leaving he gently stroked the lid and spoke to his mother's spirit,
"I have so much I want to talk to you about, Mom. I'll come back soon."
As for Jett, as soon as Khem waddled off with his mother's pot, he quickly crawled closer to the master.
"Master, was it the vengeful spirit after Khem last night?" Pharan looked at Jett with a reprimanding gaze before answering curtly:
"Yes." Jett gave a strained smile.
"Thank you for protecting Khem, Master. You're truly amazing!" Jett exclaimed, but then yelped as the master tapped his head with the edge of a stainless steel tray, causing tears from the pain.
"Just this once. If anything happens again, I won't help. You deal with it yourself."
"Oh, Master, don't you see how pitiful Khem is? He'd be blown away by a mere breeze. How could he possibly confront such a spirit?" Pharan fixed Jett with a stern look.
"Don't make me repeat myself." Jett clenched his lips. He usually didn't argue with the master. If the answer was no, then it was no. But he wanted to plead just this one time for Khem.
"Master...if you won't help Khem...I'll leak your phone number to-...ouch!" Pharan kicked Jett, sending him sprawling backwards.