Pharan woke up in the pitch dark, feeling his heart pounding irregularly.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his body was tense all over.
He sat up, gradually relaxing when he realized it was just a dream.
Pharan understood that the dream he had was not an ordinary one; the ancients would call it an omen.
Not only did he see what might happen in the future, but he also saw what had happened to Grandma-Si.
To verify once more, Pharan got out of bed and went to the central area for rituals. He lit a lantern, placed it aside, and took out paper and a pen to write down Grandma-Si's name, surname, and birth date.
After calculating the numbers, he found that what he saw in his dream was true.
Grandma-Si had run out of merit one day before being possessed by Khem's karma ghost, which meant she had passed away peacefully due to her lifespan, not murdered as he had thought.
With the truth now known, Pharan put the paper and pen back and softly spoke:
"If you haven't gone anywhere, please show yourself."
At that moment, the shadow of someone slowly stepped into the area lit by the lantern's light, approaching steadily until standing just one meter away from Pharan.
The visitor was a tall man with long hair flowing down to his waist, his upper body bare, wearing only a black traditional Thai loincloth with gold-threaded patterns, the cloth trailing on the ground like a snake's tail.
A gentle breeze carried the scent of damp earth throughout the area.
Pharan knelt, bowing once, then looked up into the amber eyes he had seen not long ago.
"Why have you come to help this time?" Pharan asked the figure known as the forest and mountain spirit.
Phuchong met Pharan's gaze for a moment before responding in a low, hoarse voice,
"Consider this as repaying the kindness you once showed me in a past life."
With that statement, certain memories from an ancient lifetime flowed into Pharan's mind.
A thousand years ago, in a past life, Pharan and Phuchong were born as naga princes of the Kanha-Kotama lineage, blue serpents dwelling in the subterranean realm. They were both nagas tasked with guarding the treasury gates of the underwater city.
Pharan was a naga known for his calm demeanor, deep wisdom, and spiritual prowess through diligent practice. Phuchong, on the other hand, was hot-tempered and arrogant, though naturally gifted with immense abilities.
One day, Phuchong's son got into a heated argument with a garuda at the human city, leading to a fierce battle where Phuchong's son was gravely injured.
Fueled by anger, Phuchong stole a powerful weapon with the capacity to destroy entire cities from the treasury without Pharan's knowledge. He used it against the garuda, causing widespread destruction across the Himavanta land, leading to the death of many deities. When the news reached the ears of Lord Paranimmitavasavatti Maharaja, the ruler of the highest celestial realm, he called an assembly of the gods to address the incident, including Phuchong, his son, the offending garuda, and Pharan, who was summoned as a key witness.
Both the nagas and garudas defended their own fiercely, leaving no room for compromise. Ultimately, Lord Paranimmitavasavatti Maharaja, the supreme ruler of the Chakammavacara heaven, decided on the highest punishment for Phuchong, his son, and the garuda: the destruction of their spirits, or the divine equivalent of execution. Once the spirit was destroyed, there would be no rebirth, no cycle of existence, a fate worse than death for a divine being who could otherwise be reborn as a human.
When no one would admit fault, obliterating all involved was deemed the just punishment for all parties, as they were all responsible for the severe damages.
Upon
hearing
the
verdict,
Pharan
pleaded
with
Lord
Paranimmitavasavatti Maharaja to reconsider the punishment. He confessed that he had suggested Phuchong steal the weapon because of his own deep-
seated resentment towards the garudas. He wanted to use Phuchong as an instrument of revenge.
He argued that Phuchong acted out of love for his son; any father seeing his child on the brink of death would naturally feel anger and seek retribution, not with the intent of rebellion.
Therefore, he requested that Lord Pranimmittavasavatti Maharaja, the supreme ruler, punish Phuchong by transforming him into a large black snake to practice penance in the deep forest of the human world, with only a small pool of water to coil around as his abode. He must accumulate merit for five hundred years before he could transform back into a Naga and return to the underworld.
As for himself, Pharan, he asked to die as a Naga and be reborn as a human, destined to struggle and sacrifice for the benefit of many in every life, to atone for the losses incurred this time.
Lord Pranimmittavasavatti Maharaja agreed with Pharan's words, even though he knew the truth.
Despite being born from a mud pit, Pharan, through his diligent practice, had shone with a golden aura and gained powers equal to that of the highest Nagas in just a few hundred years. How could he be one with a dark heart?
All his actions were to protect his friend Phuchong and his son, making him truly virtuous.
With no objections, Lord Pranimmittavasavatti Maharaja altered the punishment for all involved to practice penance in the human world as he saw fit, but only Pharan received this blessing:
"No matter what life, may you be loved by both humans and deities."
This sequence of events was why Phuchong reached out to help Pharan now, repaying the favor for when Pharan had once saved his and his son's lives.
Understanding everything, Pharan bowed again in gratitude. Although they were once equals, that was not the case now.
"I can help you this much. The rest depends on karma. Good luck."
Phuchong said before slowly fading into the darkness. Pharan opened his eyes again and realized he had been meditating, still holding the paper with Grandma-Si's name, birth date, and surname, understanding that what had just happened was Phuchong's doing, as he didn't want to reveal his form as a large black snake.
Afterward, Pharan stood up to his full height, walked into his bedroom, took out a black square bag from atop the wardrobe, filled it with necessities, and locked it shut.
He removed his sleep shirt, placing it in the laundry basket, then put on a long-sleeved navy blue shirt from the wardrobe, followed by tailored black slacks, a matching leather belt, black socks, and polished black shoes.
Once dressed properly, he opened the bedside drawer and took out an old-fashioned button phone, placing it in his left trouser pocket, a brown leather wallet in the right, and finally, a wristwatch before stepping out of the bedroom, down the stairs to where his beloved bicycle was parked.
"Hoong!" The spotted dog barked as if it knew where its master intended to go, quickly getting up from under the bamboo bed and half-walking, half-running after the master's bicycle.
On days when the master had errands that took him away, the spotted dog would relocate to the village to scrounge for food among the villagers while waiting for his return.
The master wheeled his bicycle into the chief's compound, but today, the courtyard was crowded with many people.
Everyone in the village was aware of the great and dangerous journey the master was about to undertake, foretold by a dream of a large black snake appearing and speaking of future events.
This meant that the village might no longer have the priest to protect and guide them.
The villagers gathered to see him off, setting out a five-tiered tray of offerings on a mat in the center of the courtyard, along with various items.
A soft, cushioned seat was placed beside it. Upon seeing the master arrive, the chief hurried over to invite him to sit. The rest of the villagers sat on the ground, forming a circle around him.
Both the master and the villagers raised their hands in prayer, palms together at chest level. This was a ceremony called "sut khwan." performed to send off someone on a long journey, blessing them for safety and protection from all dangers.
Today, Grandma-Si was not there to lead the sut khwan chants. So, all the villagers had to join in the recitation themselves:
"Shri, Shri, hand, the mother's good hand, Shri, Shri, today is a good day, a day of divine luck, we adorn with blessings, and so we invite the spirit with these words, come here, oh spirit...
"..."
"Thirty-two spirits come to you, ninety-two spirits come to your home, gather in your flesh, continue in your lineage, you have patterned cloths, you have variegated mats, boiled eggs for sustenance, betel nuts and fruits, liquor and sugarcane, all these we offer to you, rings of gold and silver, many things to please the heart, betel nuts to chew red, sweet potatoes, sugarcane pieces, fragrant moon oil to anoint, floral garlands for your hair, sweet-smelling wreath, fully bloomed flowers to adorn, thus we invite your spirit."
"May you live well and in happiness, may you not suffer from illness, may the forest spirits not come near, may evil spirits not approach, may the power protect you, may your spirits in every part of your body stay with you until you reach the age of five thousand rains. So be it, five hundred rains, may you have life and prosperity."
When the chanting ended, Pharan raised his hands in a respectful gesture, softly saying 'Sadhu' before standing up to allow the villagers to come and tie sacred threads on his wrist, nodding to accept their blessings, and absorbing all their good wishes.
Auntie Mai, who had been Grandma-Si's friend since their youth, was the last to tie the thread on his wrist, finishing with a gentle pat on the back of Pharan's hand.
"Master, remember that it's not just you who loves and cares for us. We love and care for you too, take good care of yourself, and come back soon, we'll have food and water ready for you."
Pharan nodded, responding in a soft, low voice, "Yes, Auntie Mai."
With time being limited, the ceremony proceeded quickly. Soon, Pharan's right wrist was full of the villagers' sacred threads, and he stepped onto Uncle Chai's pickup truck heading straight to the airport to catch the last flight of the night.
Pharan arrived in Bangkok by nearly nine in the evening, carrying a black toolbox filled with his professional tools and items. Not knowing where to find the people he needed to meet, he started by taking a taxi to the university where all three of them had studied.
Pharan found a quiet spot to meditate and sent out his spirit to search for traces of Jett, Chan, and Khem. However, the city was full of people and spirits, with sights, sounds, and scents all mixed together, making it
impossible to distinguish one from another, complicating the search for where the three might currently reside.
Things would have been easier if Pharan had decided to call Jett, but since it was very late, he didn't want to disturb anyone's sleep.
It took him over an hour to sense the presence of the three children. Once he knew where they were, he continued walking down the sidewalk.
Along the way, he encountered stray dogs. They often came to sniff and follow him; from one, it became two, then four. Soon, there was an odd sight for passersby: a strange-looking man being followed by a large pack of dogs, yet whenever anyone tried to take a photo, they couldn't focus clearly on the mysterious man's face, leaving all images blurry and curious.
Pharan walked until he reached an apartment that was neither too old nor too new, about five stories tall, located right by the road, but at this hour, hardly anyone was out wandering.
After confirming his destination, he approached an uncle selling skewered meatballs who was dozing off on a stool beside his cart. Pharan tapped three times before the man slowly opened his eyes.
"What would you like, young man?" The vendor asked. Pharan took out his wallet from his trouser pocket, handed over a thousand baht note, and said,
"I'll take everything, but please share it with them."
"Them" referred to the almost twenty stray dogs now standing behind him. The vendor, eager to pack up for the night, nodded quickly, and when the new customer declined the change, his smile widened even more. He took the money and blessed Pharan generously.
Once Pharan left, the meatball seller did his duty by distributing all the remaining meatballs to the stray dogs as instructed.
Pharan crossed the street, entering the apartment building, and as he got closer, the scent of something potent grew stronger.
It was the scent of the formidable spirit, Madam-Ramphueng.
Pharan climbed the stairs up to the fourth floor, stopped in front of room number 407, reached for the doorknob, muttered a quick incantation, and the previously locked door opened.
The scene before him was all too familiar: one child on the bed, two guarding on either side like sentinels.
However, it was not the time to feel sympathetic towards the sight, as there were more important things to do.
A tall figure stepped around Jett's body to the side of the bed, then gently sat down on the open floor space.
The thick hand was placed on Khem's smooth forehead, closing his eyes to search for Khem's spirit that had drifted away from his body.
The reason Khem was in a deep sleep after nine in the evening was not because he felt relaxed enough to sleep peacefully, but because his spirit had drifted away from his body.
The sharp face leaned down, whispering softly on the back of his hand that was resting on Khem's forehead.
"Khemjira"
"..."
"You can come back now."
At that moment, Khem found himself lost in the darkness once again.
This was not the first time Khem found himself in such a dark and cold place. Since returning from Ubon Ratchathani, Khem often ended up here every night, and the longer it went on, the more time it took to find a way out.
Khem didn't dare tell Jett and Chan about this; he knew well how much they worried and how much they had suffered, sacrificing so much to help him escape from this wretched fate.
Khem didn't want to cause them any more trouble. He was determined to struggle and live on his own, to honor the loss that had occurred and the efforts of Jett, Chan, and many others who had helped him all along.
But today, he felt extremely exhausted.
Why is surviving so difficult?
Khem pondered this every day, every moment.
Sometimes, he felt that leaving peacefully would be better than being a burden to others.
It's so tiring...
Khem had decided to stop looking for a way out of there, but suddenly, he saw a golden light flickering in the distance.
Khem's heart began to beat faster and faster as he felt his back grow hot, as if being stared at with resentful eyes.
Khem's ears picked up the sound of many footsteps rapidly approaching.
Although he couldn't see them, his heart was filled with fear, scared that they might catch up and grab him.
The human instinct to fear death propelled Khem to run towards a distant light, as if it were a safe haven in this moment.
In the final second, someone's hand nearly grabbed him, but just then, Khem's clear brown eyes snapped open.
Breathing heavily, the light from the balcony poured into the room, allowing Khem to clearly see the face of someone he never thought he'd see again.
"Master..." Khem murmured softly, his eyes growing hot with tears.
"Hmm." came the response, accompanied by a damp cloth pressed against his temple, and tears slowly began to trickle down from the corners of his eyes.
Khem gripped the priest's hand against his chest and asked with a trembling voice,
"What are you doing here, Master?"
Pharan looked into those clear, round eyes he hadn't seen in days for a moment before gently wiping away the tears with his other hand, responding in a low, concerned voice,
"You must continue to live."
"..."
"We have to be together in this lifetime, no matter what our status is."