KHEMJIRA, Chapter 34:

  Upon hearing these words, Khem slowly let out a cry, and seeing the master face, hearing those words, his heart ached even more, shaking his head and saying,

“Why [sniff] why do you want me to keep living when you don’t even feel the same way about me, huh?”

“…”

“Master, you told me you didn’t want to be involved, told me to give up on you, didn’t you? Now that it’s come to this, why won’t you let me go?”

“…”

“Until now, I’ve been trying, but now I’m tired, master.”

“…”

“Now, I don’t want to live anymore [sob]”

A multitude of emotions swirling in his chest made Khem express his frustration without fear, because even though he felt happy at the first sight of the master, the more he thought about it, the less he understood why the master would do this.

Why say this now, when he no longer needed it?

  Pharan understood the feelings Khem was going through at that moment, so he slowly lifted the slender body into an embrace.

The cool, familiar scent, the warmth from the body that Khem had longed for all this time, gradually permeated into Khem’s heart.

In the end, he couldn’t resist the overwhelming feelings in his chest, the memories of past lives where they were separated, which gave birth to the desire to hold onto this embrace once more. These thoughts deepened with every moment, making it impossible for him to resist, causing his tightly clenched small hands to gradually relax, and instead, they reached up to grip the shirt of the other in response, though still with a mixture of fear and hesitation.

“Master…”

“Sorry for making you cry.”

“…”

“But there won’t be any more of that after this.”

“…”

“Right now, I can’t say much, except that I want you to trust me.”

“…”

“No matter what happens, I will do everything to make sure we are together again.” Pharan finished, then moved back slightly. He lifted Khem’s chin with his slender fingers so their eyes met, their noses almost touching.

The feeling inside was hard to put into words, but Khem felt warm and safe…

“Okay?” Pharan asked in a whisper.

Khem bit his lip as tears still welled up in his eyes.

“But what about Grandma-Si and…”

Pharan shook his head, not waiting for Khem to finish his sentence, quickly correcting the misunderstanding.

“Grandma-Si passed away due to her age, not because she was killed. Her spirit was just being used by that ghost.” What Pharan saw in his dream was that Grandma-Si had been suffering from a serious illness for a long time. She didn’t tell the villagers because she didn’t want to be a burden, and she knew her time was limited. Before she passed, she made traditional sweets to distribute among the villagers and cleaned her house.

“As for Thong and Ek, they’ve been dead for a long time. I should have let them go when Grandpa died, but I kept them around because I wanted to use them.” Pharan explained.

“…”

“You don’t need to feel sad; just think that they’ve been released to where they should be.”

While saying this, Pharan gently wiped away Khem’s tears.

Khem’s eyes widened in shock at what he heard, as he had always thought Grandma-Si died because of a vengeful spirit due to his actions. He asked with a shaky, uncertain voice,

“Is that really true, Master? Grandma-Si wasn’t really killed?”

Pharan moved his hand to softly wipe away more tears before nodding in affirmation, “Hmm.”

Khem covered his face with both hands and cried out in relief. Although he was saddened by Grandma-Si’s sudden departure without a chance to say goodbye, it was better than thinking he had caused such a good person to suffer a tragic end in her last days as he had mistakenly believed.

As for Ekk and Thong, even though they had moved on to their rightful place, these events would remain etched in Khem’s heart for the rest of his life. If he still had breath, Khem would remember the moments they helped him until the day he died.

But right now, there was something more important that Khem couldn’t overlook, and that was the person right in front of him…

If you say that Ekk and Thong had left since that day, it means that the master has been alone all this time, hasn’t he?

Khem slowly sniffed, wiping his tears to look at the master more closely.

“Are you okay now, master? I remember that day…” Khem swallowed, not daring to meet the calm, steady gaze of the master due to his own trembling.

That day, Khem saw bloodstains on the master’s shirt, as well as drops of blood scattered along the hallway of the house.

Jett had said that the master must have been cursed, which caused the bleeding, and that’s why he was late in helping everyone, leading to the sad incident.

Pharan didn’t want to tell Khem that his body still bore much pain. He simply pressed his forehead against Khem’s smooth, clear forehead, gently transferring warmth.

“I’m fine, just waiting for your answer.”

“…”

“So, do you still want to live on together?” That sentence was like a thick rope dropped into the deep pit of darkness where Khem was, and he didn’t hesitate to grab onto it.

This time, Khem would fight on once more.

One hand still clung tightly to the master’s shirt, Khem answered with a slight nod.

Time seemed to pause momentarily as the master’s gaze focused on Khem’s lips.

The sharp nose brushed past the clear cheek, moving closer to the lips, making Khem’s heart beat faster.

Until…

“Khem, don’t!”

Jett, in a nightmare, shouted and sat up suddenly, startling Khem. Pharan could only let out a soft sigh and move away with an expressionless face as if nothing had happened.

“You go change your clothes, wear something warm. We need to travel tonight.”

“Where are we going, master?”

“You’ll find out soon enough even if I don’t tell you.”

Khem nodded in acknowledgment and went to follow the instructions, opening the wardrobe to grab a long-sleeved shirt and long pants before heading into the bathroom. Once the bathroom door was closed, Pharan released the spell that kept Jett in a deep sleep. He then opened his black box to take out a stainless steel tray, using it to knock hard on Jett’s head, who was still dozing off, causing a loud clang.

Jett woke up with a start from his dream, immediately feeling a sharp pain across his forehead which made him clutch his head in pain.

“Ow, crap, who did that!” Jett quickly turned to see who it was, only to find himself staring in shock at someone he didn’t expect to see here. He even slapped his own face to check if he was dreaming, but the person in front of him didn’t disappear, leaving him almost speechless.

“Ma-Ma-Ma-Master!” Pharan just looked at Jett without saying anything.

“…”

“How did you get here, Master…Shit! Khem!” But seeing his friend lose his composure just because he couldn’t see Khem nearby, Pharan used the tray again to snap Jett back to his senses.

“Ouch, why did you hit me, Master?” Jett asked with a pained voice, rubbing the spot where he was hit.

“Your friend is in the bathroom. How many times have I told you not to lose your mind?”

Because of this, spirits like Madam-Ramphueng could easily approach Khem…

Pharan thought to himself without speaking out loud.

When Jett was reminded of his constant flaw since childhood, he could only give a sheepish smile and quickly raised his hands in a respectful gesture above his head.

“Sorry, Master.”

Pharan just said that and put the tray back into the box, then stood up to his full height and left the room.

Jett, still scratching his head in confusion, knew he had to follow Master’s instructions. He intended to wake Chan, but Chan had already woken up, sitting up and folding his bedding.

“I was so startled I woke up when I heard the tray, I guess.”   Jett, in front of the house, spoke with a red, flushed face.

“Damn, I had been kicking for so long, why hadn’t you gotten up yet!”

“Think that just because I’m awake, you’ll be safe? Stop complaining and go change your clothes.” Chan said calmly before getting up to attend to his own business. Jett gritted his teeth in anger but could do nothing, (again), because Khem had already come out of the bathroom.

“Uh, where did the master go, Jett?” Khem asked while looking around. Jett then pointed upwards.

“Roof. Just wait a moment to change your clothes.”

It didn’t take long for Jett, Khem, and Chan to reach the roof. The sight they saw was the master standing in front of the spirit house. Near the ground, there were two pound hammers lying around. All three of them hurried towards the master without delay.

However, the closer they got, the more they were hit by an unpleasant smell, and they saw the condition of the spirit house, which now looked dark and dilapidated despite being set up just a few days ago.

“Damn, this shrine was just set up two days ago, wasn’t it, master?” Jett exclaimed in shock, not unlike Chan and Khem. Pharan nodded as if to confirm that he knew. He had seen everything in the vision created by Phu Chong.

If he hadn’t come today, the next night would have been when Khem would have fallen backward from here.

“This shrine wasn’t used to invite a deity to reside, or if it was, no one came, so it ended up calling for wandering spirits instead.”

“…”

All three of them, Jett, Khem, and Chan, swallowed hard. Pharan continued to explain what he had seen in the vision.

“Now it’s not a spirit house, but a ghost gate that connects to Madam

Ramphueng’s dimension. You two help to destroy it.”

Jett and Chan knew well who the two people he referred to were, so they stepped forward to pick up the pound hammers that the master had prepared.

With such heavy hammers, if Khem tried to lift one, his bones would likely break.

The wind howled as it passed through, causing Jett and Chan to immediately rush in and start smashing everything in sight. While breaking things, they chanted incantations to increase their strength beyond normal. Soon enough, the shrine was nothing but ruins.

Then, Pharan took out a bottle of holy water from his bag, stepped forward, and poured it over the debris. Black smoke rose, emitting a nauseating stench that made Jett and Chan turn away.

They still had a lot to learn before they could get used to this.

Once the cleansing was done, Pharan turned to Jett and Chan to give them further instructions.

“From now on, we need to split up. You two go back to Khem’s hometown to look for something that’s been passed down through generations. I don’t know what it is, but I believe it’s what’s keeping the family’s vengeful spirit tied to this world. Once you find it, perform a cleansing ritual, then have it burned by the crematorium.” Jett and Chan took a deep breath and nodded in unison.

“And where will you be going, Master?”

“I can’t tell you yet. Once you finish your task, come back here and wait.”

“…”

“Be very careful.” Jett and Chan nodded again. While waiting for the priest to pack up, they discussed the details with Khem about the route to take and who to seek out.

“Jett, Chan, be careful.” Khem said with a trembling voice, his eyes brimming with tears. Seeing this, Jett softened, pulling Khem into a hug and rocking him gently. Chan also patted Khem’s head soothingly.

“This is nothing; for our bright future, I can do this. Don’t worry about everything; it will turn out fine.”

Khem nodded, then turned to hug Chan.

“Please look after Jett, Chan.”

“Khun Khem, don’t worry. Take care of yourself too.” Chan replied softly, and Khem nodded in acknowledgment.

“Uh, thank you.”

If Khem had one wish left, it would be that they could all meet again.

 

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 33:

  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 longsleeved 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 oldfashioned 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.”

 

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 32:

  In the early hours of the night, around one in the morning, after Khem had fallen asleep from exhaustion, Jett woke Chan who was sleeping on the other side of Khem’s bed.

“Chan, wake up.” Chan opened his eyes, reached for his glasses beside the pillow, and with the light from the balcony which had been left on for the night, he could see Jett’s tense face.

“What’s up, Khun Jett?”

“Come downstairs with me.” Jett whispered back, cautious not to wake Khem. His response made Chan furrow his brows a bit.

“And Khun Khem? Will we leave him sleeping alone?” Jett scanned the room once more for safety, ensuring all sharp objects and potential weapons, including pencils, had been removed and locked away in the apartment’s locker since evening.

The balcony glass door from which Khem had once nearly jumped, as well as the bathroom door, were securely locked with padlocks. Not to mention the numerous protective amulets Jett and Chan had written and plastered on all four walls, and the legendary sacred object from Uncle Krai, laid with jasmine flowers on the wardrobe near the door, potent enough to make any resident spirits in the apartment hide away, truly justifying the half-million baht investment.

Despite all these precautions, Jett still felt uneasy.

After making sure everything was secure, he nodded.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine in here. Are you coming or not? I’m asking.” Chan sighed, clearly tired of Jett’s habits.

Jett wanted to kick Chan but held back, mindful of the steel amulet the monk had given him, which he wore as a constant necklace.

Unable to do more than glare, Jett quickly got up, leading Chan out of the room with his satchel full of items.

Before leaving, he didn’t forget to lock the door from the outside with another key, confident that Khem wouldn’t sleepwalk outside.

After locking up, they descended from the fourth floor to the ground level. Walking until they reached the front gate, ensuring no one was around, Jett opened his satchel and took out twelve slender rattan canes, each about a ruler’s length, handing them to Chan before saying:

“Take these rattan sticks and plant them in the ground, half a building’s width apart around the perimeter; I’ll tie the sacred thread myself.” Chan was still groggy from sleep, but eventually couldn’t help but ask,

“Why do we need to do this?” Jett, irritated, pursed his lips but then remembered that Chan couldn’t see what he could, so he explained,

“This apartment doesn’t have a spirit house. Spirits roam freely here. I’ve noticed it since the first time I came to visit Khem.”

“…”

“We got something powerful, sure, but I’m not entirely sure about it, especially with Khem’s birthday approaching, it’s going to get dangerous. Since yesterday, I’ve felt like I’m being watched all the time.”

“…”

“Khem’s karma spirits are already strong enough. If more come from elsewhere, you and I won’t be able to handle it. Even the ebony wood, which has been enchanted for years, might not hold up.”

“Let’s ask the apartment owner to conduct a spirit house ceremony tomorrow, but tonight we need to perform a protective ritual to buy us some time. Otherwise,

I won’t be able to sleep. Understand?”

Chan nodded, turned around, and went to carry out his task. Jett, seeing this, picked up a roll of sacred thread and followed to tie it to the rattan sticks Chan was planting around the building.

Once the sacred thread formed a square perimeter, Jett sat down on the ground, took out a gold plate from his bag, placed it on the ground, followed by a silver bowl, then took out a bottle of holy water from the temple where they had stayed overnight, which Jett had requested from the abbot.

He opened the bottle and poured the holy water into the silver bowl almost to the brim, then placed a small Buddha image into it, wrapping the sacred thread around the gold plate three times. Meanwhile, Chan went to pick jasmine flowers from beside the wall to use in the offering.

Jett lit nine incense sticks, holding them in a wai at his chest, while Chan knelt beside him, lighting five candles and placing them on the remaining space of the gold plate. They both closed their eyes, clasped their hands, and began to chant in reverence to the Triple Gem.

As soon as they started chanting, the lights around the building flickered on and off, followed by gusts of wind coming from all directions.

The incense smoke wavered with the wind, and suddenly, all five candles went out.

The putrid smell of ghosts crept into their noses, wafting around the area. Outside the protective lines, numerous dark shadows appeared, including both children and adults, from young to old. Some looked normal, others were twisted and distorted, moving closer yet unable to cross the protective boundary.

Jett’s ears heard screams mixed with laughter that seemed to mock them.

Cursing, wailing, and cries as if on the verge of death filled the air, all intended to break the concentration of the young men, but both Chan and Jett maintained their focus.

“Pahuneyo, Dakkhineyyo, Anchalikaraniyo”

“…”

“Anuttarang, Punyakhettang, Lokassati”

After the chant, Jett placed incense beside the building and returned to kneel in his original spot, hands clasped in prayer.

“My name is Jett, surname, Nakantakul.”

“My name is Chanwit, surname, Charoenkiatprecha.” After stating their full names, they spoke together:

“Also, Khemjira, Chantharapisut. We three respectfully offer our homage to all the Buddhas, the Dhamma, and the noble Sangha throughout the cosmos, to the Brahma, deities, and to all our masters. Please bless this holy water for us to protect us from all misfortune and malevolence. Amen.”

As their prayer ended, the protective lines and the golden tray suddenly glowed with a golden light, though Jett and Chan, not yet at the highest level of training, couldn’t see it. What they felt was a warm breeze that cleared away the stench of the spirits, and their ears were no longer assaulted by the disturbing noises. The dark shadows that had crowded around retreated, leaving emptiness in their wake.

Jett then took out a jasmine garland from his satchel, dipping it into the sacred water. He had Chan help carry the tray as they walked around the building, sprinkling the holy water to complete the ritual.

“Alright, let’s go back to sleep.” Jett said, yawning so hard his eyes watered, before leading Chan back inside.

Upon returning, seeing Khem still fast asleep, they both felt relieved and quickly settled back into their own sleeping spots, falling into a deep sleep.

That entire night passed peacefully as they had prayed for.

The following day, Jett, representing the group, negotiated with the apartment owner to set up a spirit house. Although the owner followed a different religion, Jett managed to persuade him by briefly explaining the problems and offering to cover all expenses themselves. The owner agreed, providing his name, surname, and birth details to Jett for selecting the auspicious time.

Jett combined the owner’s birth details with Khem’s to find a suitable time.

Fortunately, they found an auspicious time three days before Khem’s birthday.

During those three days, everything remained calm until the day of the ceremony. Jett ordered the necessary items for the ritual from a delivery company to avoid going outside, and also called a Brahmin priest known to Chan to perform the ceremony.

Since there wasn’t enough space beside the building to place the spirit house, they decided to set it up on the rooftop.

On this day, the sky was overcast, and the atmosphere was not conducive to the ceremony, despite it being the best day of the month. The priest felt an uncomfortable pressure in his chest, reluctant to proceed, sensing as if someone’s malevolent gaze was upon them continuously.

However, having accepted a significant sum of money, he felt compelled to continue despite his discomfort.

Jett, Chan, and Khem also felt uneasy. Throughout the ceremony, Khem kept looking around, while Jett and Chan continuously chanted protective mantras without pause, even though nothing seemed to interfere with the ceremony.

Finally, the spirit house ceremony was successfully completed. The Brahmin priest hastily excused himself after finishing his duties, and Jett, Chan, and Khem returned to their room.

It seemed their worries might have been self-induced, as after the ceremony, the sky cleared up, the sun shone brightly, and the atmosphere no longer felt gloomy like it did in the morning. It also appeared that the spirits that had been lurking in the apartment had vanished as if they never existed, something all three could sense.

This meant that setting up the spirit house to invite the guardian spirits had worked wonderfully. Even though their bank accounts were nearly depleted from purchasing the items and hiring the Brahmin priest, it was an investment well made.

When they felt the situation was safe, Jett and Chan began to take turns going out more often. Whether it was to go to school, return home, or fetch delicious food to bring back for Khem, with Khem always staying in the room with one of them, not going anywhere. Three days had passed safely without incident.

Jett glanced at the clock while the three of them were watching a movie on the bed; in just a few hours, it would be Khem’s birthday. But he felt they couldn’t let their guard down until the very last moment tonight. Jett and Chan decided to stay awake all night watching over Khem.

“Damn, it’s like clockwork; he shuts down at 11 PM sharp.” Jett muttered to Chan, explaining the situation while Khem was leaning against his shoulder. Chan, on the other side of Khem, looked away from the laptop screen to see Khem’s eyes fluttering shut, then helped adjust him to lie comfortably on the pillow.

Lately, at 11 PM, Khem would fall into a deep sleep and not wake until morning, which was good because he would sleep without nightmares or sleepwalking, which had been a concern.

Jett watched the clock for a moment before announcing, “Let’s go, Chan, it’s time for the chants.” Chan nodded, closed the laptop, placed it on the bedside table, and followed Jett to sit for chanting. Jett had placed a Buddha statue on a chair, with the Black Rosewood box on the floor beside it.

Jett lit two candles, placing one on either side of the Buddha statue, opting not to light incense to avoid disturbing Khem’s sleep. Chan turned off all the lights in the room, leaving the candles to provide illumination.

Jett and Chan sat facing each other with the Buddha statue and the wooden box between them. They raised their hands in a prayer gesture and began chanting, starting with the homage to the Triple Gem according to the scriptures, followed by the Itipiso chant, which they recited one hundred and eight times, as taught by the monk for enhancing one’s destiny, warding off spirits, and strengthening the mind.

The two voices blended together in a soft, rhythmic chant within the room:

“Itipiso, Bhagava, Arahant, SammasamBuddho, Vijjacaranasampanno…”

The hour hand of the clock moved steadily until it reached ten, but during the one hundred and seventh recitation of the Itipiso by Jett and Chan, everything turned pitch black.

At that moment, Khem got up from the bed, his feet slowly touching the floor, and he stepped quietly past Jett and Chan, leaving the room.

At fifty-five minutes past nine in the evening, Chan suddenly jolted awake. The light from the balcony illuminated the room enough to see Jett sleeping on the other side. Chan’s eyes widened as he turned to look at the bed, only to find that where Khem should have been sleeping was now empty.

“Khun Jett, Khun Jett!” Chan woke Jett with a louder and more urgent voice than usual, driven by fear. Jett woke up startled by Chan’s shout.

Their eyes met for just a moment, and the panic in Chan’s eyes made Jett immediately turn to check the bed.

“Shit!” Jett sprang up and ran out of the room, not even pausing to look at the knee he scraped when he stumbled.

Breathing heavily, Jett looked left and right before deciding to head downstairs, but before he could take a step, Chan grabbed his arm.

Chan shook his head and said,

“No. Not downstairs.” Something told Chan that the direction Jett was about to take was wrong. Jett was about to ask what made Chan think that, but past experiences had taught him to trust Chan’s instincts without question. He then led Chan in the opposite direction.

Jett ran up the emergency stairs to the rooftop with Chan following closely behind. The first thing they saw was the newly set up spirit house from a few days ago, now turned into a dilapidated shrine covered in cobwebs and emitting a foul, nauseating smell.

“Khem!!” Jett shouted when he saw Khem standing with his back to them on the edge of the rooftop wall.

Jett’s heart pounded harder with each passing second, his legs shaking as he took cautious steps forward, trying to get as close to Khem as possible. In contrast,

Chan moved slowly and steadily behind Jett, silently devising ways to save Khem.

But it seemed they were too late.

The wind blew past, sending a chill through the air, and Khem turned back to face Jett and Chan.

At fifty-nine minutes past nine in the evening, Khem’s eyes, which were once a clear brown, had turned completely black without a trace of white. His lips slowly formed into a smile, and he spoke briefly to the two,

“I’m taking him.”

With that statement, Khem’s body leaned back and fell off the rooftop.

 

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 31:

  Khem had been preparing to leave the village since the previous night. He took advantage of the chaos after Grandma-Si’s cremation ceremony to slip away quietly, unnoticed. He quickly returned to the master’s house to grab his hidden clothes bag in the kitchen and made his way through the forest edge until he reached the road near the village entrance. Fortunately, all the villagers were still at the temple, so no one noticed Khem’s departure.

Khem didn’t want anyone else to suffer misfortune because of him, especially Jett, Chan, and the master.

Khem gripped his bag’s strap tightly, walking along the road away from the village for about two kilometers until he reached a roadside pavilion. He remembered that in the evening, a red pickup taxi would pass by this spot to take passengers to the bus station in the city.

And at six in the evening, this would be the last trip of the day.

Khem didn’t wait long before the red pickup taxi arrived. There were no other passengers on the truck, which actually relieved Khem.

Praying that this vehicle would reach its destination safely.

When Jett and Chan climbed onto the back of the village chief’s truck, it drove out from the village and headed north. Even though they didn’t know where the village chief was taking them, both felt confident that they would definitely find their friend at the end of the journey.

The village chief stopping to wait for them earlier was no coincidence. There was no way he could have known what was about to happen.

This was the master’s final act of assistance.

The two all placed our hands in a wai above their heads as the truck passed by the shrine of the local spirit.

Please, sacred spirit, protect and keep my friend safe.

…

At half past ten, Khem arrived at the bus station safely.

After paying the fare to the driver, Khem hugged his bag and walked to find a seat far from other people. Once he found a spot, he sat down and reflected on everything that had happened, alone.

Throughout Khem’s life, he had endured many hardships from a young age. Khem never blamed anyone for all these troubles. He was grateful to have been born into this world and had always tried to live a good life. Although sometimes Khem felt lonely, he had learned to accept it and adapt to being on his own.

Until the day Khem met a friend like Jett.

Jett was hot-tempered, reacting directly with anger when someone wronged him, not one to be taken advantage of. He also had a loud voice as if he’d eaten microphones instead of food, in stark contrast to Khem, whose every word spoken would make everyone stop and listen attentively.

Khem was weak, timid, and not one to fight back, unlike Jett who was always ready for action if someone displeased him. To others, Jett might seem intimidating, but for Khem, he was the best friend he ever had.

Though outwardly Jett might seem like a moving bonfire, he was a fire that could warm you during the coldest times.

Khem had been well-protected by Jett, leading him to believe that this life was worth living to the fullest.

With Chan, even though they hadn’t known each other for long, Khem felt as connected to him as he did with Jett. Having Chan nearby always made Khem feel at ease.

Chan was calm, reasonable, often providing what those around him needed without being asked, composed, and communicated more through actions than words, contrasting with Jett like opposite poles.

If Jett was the warm fire, Chan was like the cool water that soothes the soul.

Khem was glad to have met both Jett and Chan. The time spent with them was filled with happiness, which is why he chose to leave quietly, not wanting to burden them with his troubles.

Because this time, it was more than Khem could handle. He was heartbroken to have caused the death of someone as good as Grandma-Si and to have brought pain to the master and the villagers.

Everything was because of him…

…

When they reached the bus station, Jett and Chan quickly jumped off the truck, went to thank and bid farewell to the village chief, then rushed into the station to look for Khem among the crowd.

Jett ran around frantically while Chan approached the station staff, explaining they were looking for a man about his height, with fair skin and dark brown hair, showing a picture on his phone of Khem taken during a bai sri su khwan ceremony.

The middle-aged male staff member looked at the picture for a moment before nodding.

“I think I saw him near the restrooms. The bus hasn’t left yet, he should still be around here. Go look for him.”

“Thank you.” Chan said with a wai to the other person before heading to where Jett was standing, anxiously tapping his foot. Once he finished speaking, they went together to look for Khem near the restrooms as directed by the staff.

Khem took a deep breath, looking left and right to decide his next move.

Where would he sleep tonight?

  Where would he go tomorrow?

  What else was there left to do?

  Tomorrow, the university semester will start. Should he go back to studying, or should he return to the monk?

  Khem clenched his lips as he felt his eyes start to burn, then wiped away the tears with his arm.

  Being alone again felt so unfamiliar…

  At that moment, overwhelmed by feelings of emptiness, fear, and confusion, Khem suddenly noticed the tips of two pairs of sneakers that he remembered being washed just a few days ago.

Khem bit his lip to hold back tears, then slowly looked up at his close friends, softly calling out to them,

“Chan, Jett…”

Chan smiled, his face covered in sweat, while Jett reached out to gently tap Khem’s forehead with his fist.

“You ran away quite far, didn’t you?”

After finishing his sentence, Khem’s strained composure began to crack, as he realized he wasn’t being haunted by ghosts. The walls of his endurance crumbled along with his clear tears.

“Huh, huhu…”

Jett and Chan moved closer to Khem. Jett pulled Khem into a hug, and Chan reached out to gently pat his shoulder.

Jett took a deep breath, the relief of finding Khem causing his emotions to swing erratically. His heart was still pounding from the sudden joy, making his voice tremble more than usual.

“Listen to me, Khem.”

“…”

“No matter what happens in the future, I won’t let go of you, ever.” Jett wanted to say more, but feeling his tears about to spill, he chose to remain silent.

Regarding Grandma-Si, it wasn’t that he wasn’t saddened by what happened. He had always felt guilty, knowing that Grandma-Si had once fed him when he was young. His respect, love, and connection to her were not small, but Khem hadn’t done anything wrong; if anyone was to blame, it was himself for bringing Khem here.

From the moment he met Khem, Jett had set a goal to help him overcome any bad situations. Until he saw Khem have a bright future and live happily, he would stay by his side, protecting him.

Even if it meant he had to die.

“Don’t run away like this again, you understand?” Khem, hearing this, sobbed more, nodding once in agreement, one hand clutching Jett’s shirt, the other holding onto Chan’s thumb.

“Thank you, thank you so much, Jett, Chan. I really mean it.”

Then Chan left Jett alone with Khem, going to buy food and water for all three of them, as none had eaten since the afternoon.

They decided to head back to Bangkok the next day, but before that, Jett had a place he needed to visit. For tonight, they chose to stay at a nearby temple, thinking it would be more comforting than a hotel.

Fortunately, the abbot was kind and compassionate, arranging for the temple boys to set up bedding for them in the sala, in front of the large Buddha statue.

After bathing and changing, they quickly went to bed since they had to travel early the next morning. Before sleep, they didn’t forget to chant prayers, asking for divine protection during their slumber. The sleeping arrangement remained as always, with Khem in the middle, flanked by Chan and Jett.

“Jett, where are you taking us tomorrow?” Khem asked. Jett stared at the ceiling of the sala for a moment as if weighing his words before responding.

“To see someone who might be able to help you.” Khem pressed his lips together tightly.

“Can’t we not go, Jett? I…I don’t want to trouble anyone else.” Jett shook his head in refusal and reached out to pat Khem’s soft hair.

“He’ll definitely help. No problem. Trust me, just relax and don’t overthink it.” Khem took another breath and nodded in obedience.

The three of them didn’t talk for long about the next day before exhaustion took over, and they fell asleep.

Unbeknownst to them, the abbot and several senior monks were chanting prayers all night to ward off evil spirits coming from all directions.

  The next morning, they quickly got up to wash and brush their teeth. After finishing, they went to pay respects and bid farewell to the abbot. Then they shouldered their bags and waited at the front of the temple for the songthaew.

Jett led Khem and Chan to a nearby sub-district, ringing the bell to get off at the village entrance pavilion. He guided his friends through narrow alleys until they reached a house on stilts surrounded by a low bamboo fence with a sign that read,

“Maw Krailert’s Residence.”

“This is it, let’s go in.” Jett said before leading Khem and Chan inside.

At that moment, Maw Krailert, who was meditating, suddenly opened his eyes.

His sharp gaze narrowed as he looked at the three teenagers approaching.

What do Pharan’s disciples want here?

  This question was evident in his expression. Jett, who had crawled forward to sit about a meter away, quickly raised his hands in a wai, followed by Chan and Khem.

“Uncle Krai, hello.” Jett greeted. Krailert furrowed his brows, nodding before he spoke,

“Why have you come to see me?”

Jett quickly pulled Khem forward and looked back at Uncle Krai, one of the most powerful shamans in the area, and relayed the important parts of their story.

Maw Krailert gave Khem a fleeting glance, already sensing how grave his condition was. Upon hearing the story, he responded with a voice holding back laughter,

“Even your master wouldn’t interfere. And you’re hoping for help from an outsider like me, huh, Jett?”

Hearing this, Jett quickly started to plead in his usual manner.

“Oh, Uncle Krai, our master is a white magician. He doesn’t deal with these matters. In Ubon Ratchathani, the only shaman as skilled as our master is Uncle

Krai.” Jett tried his best to flatter, but Uncle Krai remained impassive. Finally, Jett had to resort to his last card.

“I’ve saved up half a million. I’ll give it all to you, Uncle Krai, please help me and my friends.” Hearing the sum, Uncle Krai’s face finally showed emotion, his eyes gleaming like a predator, his voice menacing enough to instill fear.

“Jett, if you lie, I’ll kill you.”

Jett nodded earnestly, his gaze serious and unwavering, devoid of any jest. This pleased Uncle Krai, who responded with satisfaction.

“Then you all wait here.”

After saying this, he got up and disappeared into the back room, leaving Jett, Khem, and Chan to wait.

Not long after, Uncle Krai returned with a wooden box about an elbow’s length, placing it in front of the three young men.

“Here, open it and see.” With permission granted, Jett opened the box to see what was inside, his eyes widening at the sight.

“Shit…” Jett exclaimed, quickly covering his mouth, his shocked demeanor making Khem and Chan look at him with confusion.

“What’s this, Jett?” Khem asked, his eyes shifting between Jett and the contents of the box, which looked like a charred piece of wood, blackened and covered with thorns like a rosewood tree.

Jett swallowed hard before answering:

“It’s called Black Rosewood…

Black Rosewood looks like an ordinary rosewood on the outside, but its wood is pitch black throughout. The ancients believed it to be a magical tree protected by deities, found in deep forests, taking hundreds of years to grow to be discovered by humans. It’s considered a highly potent magical artifact.

If it’s a tree where the deity has sacrificed itself and turned to stone, it has the power to protect one from all kinds of dangers, especially from dark magic and evil spirits.

Nowadays, real Black Rosewood is incredibly rare. Its value is immeasurable.”

“Uncle Krai, you’re really giving it to us?” Jett asked, feeling a bit uncertain due to the value of the item likely exceeding the amount of money he had offered.

Krailert nodded before replying,

“I’ve been nurturing this piece of ebony for years, but I don’t need it anymore.

Take it, but don’t forget our agreement.”

It wasn’t just the money that made Krailert agree to help and hand over this family heirloom to the three youths; he was also curious to see if his magical studies could stand up to someone like Pharan.

Having avoided direct confrontation to prevent damage for a long time, this might be a way to determine who was truly more skilled. That was the only reason.

If he could find out, Krailert thought he could die content in this lifetime with no regrets.

Jett clasped his hands in a wai and bowed, followed quickly by Khem and Chan.

“Thank you very much, Uncle Krai.”

Jett, Khem, and Chan returned to Bangkok that afternoon by airplane, arriving in just two hours. Both Jett and Chan brought their clothes to Khem’s room, planning to stay together until Khem’s twentieth birthday in a week.

  So, they prepared by stocking up on food and essentials, intending to leave the room as little as possible.

  If their plan was correct, in just seven days, the curse and the vengeful spirits from Khem’s past life would no longer be able to affect him.

 

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 30:

  Jett and Chan took Khem back to the master’s residence. Jett decided to return to Grandma-Si’s house to assess the situation, leaving Chan to look after Khem at the master’s place.

Upon returning, Khem locked himself in his room, and Chan could only sit outside, listening to his friend’s cries, feeling the overwhelming sorrow that could not be expressed in words, unable to do anything to help.

He prayed that everything would pass quickly and well.

The sound of the “Thani Krasang” funeral song played throughout the village.

Grandma-Si’s funeral was held that evening, amidst the grief of many villagers. Her body was to be kept at her home for a single night for merit-making before being cremated at the temple the next day, as per her final wishes conveyed to everyone.

Since she had no children or grandchildren, she didn’t want to burden the villagers. Although some disagreed, preferring traditional customs, they realized they had never repaid her kindness; thus, fulfilling her last wish seemed appropriate.

“Master, why don’t you go back, shower, and change your clothes? I’ll take care of things here.” Jett approached the master, who was still in his bloodstained white shirt, wet from the pond, not having changed even after over two hours. He was worried the master might fall ill.

The atmosphere around the master was too tense for anyone to casually speak, except for his close disciple, Jett. But seeing the master nod in acknowledgement, Jett quietly stepped back, not saying anything more.

At this moment, no matter how chaotic the surroundings were, Pharan sat still on the floor, his black eyes fixed on the incense sticks in the pot in front of the coffin, which burned away one by one.

Every minute passed slowly, and every memory flowed back, shaking the feelings he had kept hidden in his heart with sorrow.

For Pharan, Grandma-Si was not unlike a mother who had given him life. She had given him his first embrace after losing his mother, fed him his first spoonful of rice, and made the first treat with care. All of these were acts of Grandma-Si.

Thus, despite understanding the truth of life that all humans are born to eventually pass away, it’s impossible not to feel sorrow.

Before the time for the monks to arrive for the funeral rites, Pharan had to return home to bathe and change. During the walk back, every step felt heavy, as if the ground itself might split apart, the forest spirits recoiled in fear. Even the land spirits of this area trembled.

It was a kind of anger no one had encountered in this life before.

Upon returning to the house, as he ascended the steps, he heard two distinct sobs from both wings of the house. He paused at the central part, listening to both, then decided to head right.

Pharan entered a room where a table held an incense pot and two bottles of red soda. In the center of the table stood a wooden sculpture of two boys holding hands, crafted by a woodcarver.

The crying came from one who had lost his twin brother, never to return.

“Ekk.” Pharan called out softly. Soon, the boy in the blue school uniform appeared. The young boy clung tightly to Pharan’s trousers, still sobbing pitifully.

“Master, hic, Thong, Thong, huhu.” Pharan gently stroked Ekk head, then responded in a low voice,

“Um, I know.”

“Hic, I can’t stay here without Thong, Master, hic, can you bring Thong back to me?”

Pharan held his breath for a moment at that request, knowing well he couldn’t fulfill it.

Pharan understood well the pain of losing someone so dear, but if one still had breath, the only option was to keep struggling. However, for those who had lost their breath, there were still ways to meet again.

“I can’t bring him back, but I can send you to him if you wish.” Pharan said, causing Ekk to slowly lift his head to look at the monk’s face once more.

“…”

“What do you say?”

“…”

“Do you want to stay here, or go to where you both should have been from the start?”

In truth, neither of them should have been summoned into this statue by Pharan’s grandfather, a shaman, if it hadn’t been for his youthful experimentation. If not for that, they would have been reborn long ago. Hearing this, Ekk, thinking of all the time spent here, cried softly, nodding before retreating and bowing at the monk’s feet in respect.

The memories in this Thai house were precious to the orphaned spirits like Ekk and Thong, who had no one to care for them, but ultimately, what was most valuable to Ekk was his twin brother. With tears in his eyes, he said to the master,

“Thank you so much for everything.”

Upon finishing his words, Pharan knelt down, touched the young spirit’s head he had spent decades with, and chanted a mantra to adjust their spiritual state. Ekk’s form slowly transformed into a soft yellow light floating above Pharan’s hand, which he then placed into a wooden box. Tomorrow, he would take it to the temple for the abbot to help send the spirit to a better place alongside Grandma-Si.

After placing the wooden box back in its spot, Pharan stared at it for several minutes before saying:

“I hope in your next lives, both of you will be born into a family that loves and cares for you well.”

Khem got up at dawn to prepare food, which he then took in a basket to Grandma-Si’s house with Chan. Upon arriving at the funeral, the first thing he did was pay his respects by lighting an incense stick and offering an apology.

“Grandma-Si. I’m so sorry for causing you to leave like this. It’s all my fault.”

“…”

“If I hadn’t come here in the first place, all these terrible things wouldn’t have happened.”

“…”

“If there’s still a breath in me, I’ll make sure to do merit often for you,

Grandma.”

“…”

“I’m really sorry.” After saying this, he placed the incense stick into the pot, bowed once, and slowly stepped back to place the food from the basket he had prepared into the alms bowl set aside, then went to sit at a chair behind where no one would notice, to listen to the monks chanting.

Khem spoke little and was more silent than usual, causing Chan, who had been observing him all the time, to feel uneasy. Even Jett, who was assisting the Reverend, kept glancing at him frequently.

Jett was worried that Khem might blame himself too much, but he was also concerned about the master’s state of mind. Thus, he stayed close, not daring to leave Khem alone.

Jett had no idea how the master felt about Khem now, after losing someone so dear, almost like a mother, due to Khem’s karma. However, to Jett, Khem was still a friend he would never let go of easily.

‘Just wait, Khem. I’ll make the master understand that none of this was your fault,’ Jett thought to himself.

When the time came for Grandma-Si’s cremation ceremony, her body was placed in a pickup truck and driven into the temple. Ten villagers were ordained to perform the ceremony, ten monks chanted Buddhist mantras, offerings were made, a sermon was given, and the monks chanted the Matika Bangsakol, followed by the offering of traditional items and then the pouring of water as the final step.

After the merit-making for the deceased, the abbot, or Luang Por Sua, led the procession. During the procession, the village chief carried a lit incense stick. Behind him, the master, dressed in black from head to toe, held Grandma-Si’s portrait, followed by Jett, Uncle-Chai, Uncle-Lah, Uncle-Mek, and two other men carrying the coffin on their shoulders, with the villagers bringing up the rear in the final farewell to Grandma-Si.

After circling the funeral pyre three times, Grandma-Si’s coffin was placed on the cremation platform. During the recounting of Grandma-Si’s life and her good deeds for the village, there were intermittent soft sobs.

Understanding the truths of life, they conducted the Bangsakol cloth offering ceremony, followed by villagers placing jasmine flowers and incense sticks at the base of the pyre for the lighting.The monk was the first to walk up, placing sandalwood flowers, candles, and incense, and also set the wooden box containing Ekk’s spirit next to Grandma-Si, entrusting her to watch over this spirit too. He spoke softly in the Isan dialect, as always:

“See you later, Grandma. Please take care of Ekk too.”

After the monk had placed the flowers and returned to his seat, the villagers followed, lining up to place their own sandalwood flowers. Among them were Chan and Khem.

The final act was lighting the cremation pyre. Grandma-Si’s coffin was moved into the crematorium, and the light grey smoke wafting from the top of the pyre was a sight that tugged at many hearts, leading them to clasp their hands in prayer over their heads.

From now on, this small village would no longer have Grandma-Si, the guardian of their spirits. May Grandma-Si be with those she loved and find peace in a good realm.

As everything concluded, Khem felt a change in the hand he thought was Chan’s; turning, he found it was not his friend but a village child looking confused. Chan quickly let go, apologizing.

Looking around, Chan saw only villagers milling about, and Khem had vanished without him noticing. His already worried heart grew even more anxious.

At that moment, Jett, having finished his duties with the monk, hurried over but frowned when he saw Chan standing alone, looking pale and sweaty. He rushed over without hesitation.

“Where’s Khem, Chan?” Chan, still frowning, shook his head.

“I don’t know.” Jett, in frustration, slapped his own forehead, then grabbed Chan’s arm, urging him to move.

“Damn it, come on, let’s go back to the house!” Jett hoped that Khem was just tired and had gone back to wait for them at the residence, praying he hadn’t gone anywhere.

But their prayers were in vain; Khem had packed his belongings and left the village, leaving behind only a tear-stained letter.

‘To Jett and Chan, thank you for always helping me. I’m sorry for causing you trouble. Please apologize to the master and the villagers for me. I’m sorry I’m too cowardly and weak, causing problems like this. I hope you all have a good life from now on. Goodbye.’

  After reading the letter to the end, Jett placed it back where it was and made to dash out of the room, but Chan grabbed his arm.

“Khun Jett, where are you going?” Jett looked incredulous before replying sharply,

“To find Khem, what else? If we let him go like this, he’ll definitely die!” Chan furrowed his brows in response,

“I understand how you feel. I’m worried about Khem too, but we can’t just rush out like this.” This was because neither Jett nor Chan knew where Khem was at the moment or where he intended to go. Acting without a clear plan would only waste time and could potentially make things worse.

“Let’s consult with the master first.” Jett, after considering the reasoning, took a deep breath to calm himself and then nodded in agreement. When they left the room, they saw the master waiting in the central area of the house, as if he already knew what had transpired.

Without delay, Jett and Chan approached the master on their knees, hands clasped in a wai before speaking,

“Master, Khem has left the village.” Jett said urgently. Pharan set his coffee cup down beside him before responding,

“And what of it?”

Jett swallowed hard seeing the Reverend’s impassive gaze, then continued in a trembling voice, “Master. If he goes out there in that state, he’s surely going to die.

Please, master, help us.” Before Jett could finish his sentence, the Reverend cut in,   “In fact, you shouldn’t have brought him here in the first place.”

“…”

“I told you, didn’t I? Not to meddle in someone else’s karma.”

“…”

“Do you see now what happens when you interfere in others’ affairs, or must I die for you to realize?”

That statement hit like a lightning bolt. Jett swallowed, reflecting on the master’s words, his heart trembling with sorrow and regret for his actions.

Indeed, it was Jett who had approached Khem, bringing him here, which led to many people getting troubled and even caused Grandma-Si’s death due to Khem’s karma. Everything was Jett’s fault.

  But the thought of stopping everything and letting Khem face death alone felt like a spear piercing his heart.

Khem was a dear friend whom Jett loved and wanted to protect with his life; he wanted to see Khem live a long life with him. Therefore, he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

Having thought about it, Jett slowly knelt down and spoke with a tearful voice:

“I’m leaving now, Master.”

Jett and Chan shouldered their bags as they left the master’s house, but they hadn’t even passed the rubber tree forest when they spotted a white pickup truck parked by the road, with the village chief standing beside it. Seeing this, they approached.

“Uncle village chief, are you going somewhere?” Jett asked softly, not daring to think much of himself at this moment.

“I’m here to pick you up. Aren’t you going to look for Khem? There’s still time if we go now.” Both Jett and Chan’s eyes widened, they exchanged a glance before Chan asked further:

“Do you know where Khem is, village chief?” The village chief nodded, not admitting that he actually didn’t know when Khem had left the village or where he intended to go, if someone hadn’t come to tell him.

“Hmm, hurry, get in the truck, we don’t want to miss him.” That was all it took for Jett and Chan to rush and jump into the back of the village chief’s truck.

The house fell into silence after the two disciples left. What Pharan did next was to drink from a sacred water pot he had blessed earlier, then he retched out the black blood that had accumulated in his chest over the past two days into a basin, repeating this process day and night.

     KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 29:

  The little girl had only intended to sneak out to catch fireflies at night because she couldn’t sleep. She never expected to witness such events with her own eyes.

Krongkwan was a clever child and well aware that MaeYing Kesakaew was the most powerful woman in the household. Her mother had always warned her not to play or be mischievous near her, and often, she had seen MaeYing Kesakaew beat the servants. Thus, the child was deeply afraid of this lady, but this time, the cruelty was beyond what a seven-year-old could handle. Just as she was about to scream, a hand from behind covered her small lips.

MaeYing Koknang, upon looking for her child and finding her, could guess what had happened to Madam-Ramphueng even though she hadn’t witnessed the events.

Even MaeYing Radamani, who was the daughter of a high-ranking official, had such a tragic fate; how could Madam-Ramphueng, merely a servant, ever hope to rise to fight the level of the primary wife like MaeYing Kesakaew?

MaeYing Koknang’s eyes were red with fear and shock at her daughter having witnessed such an unspeakable scene. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen to them if they were caught.

Krongkwan pointed at Madam-Ramphueng, but MaeYing Koknang shook her head, then scooped up her child and half-ran, half-walked away.

However, they did not escape MaeYing Kesakaew’s sight, nor did they miss the hope in Madam-Ramphueng’s eyes, which seemed to see light at the end of the tunnel.

Seeing the hopeful expression on Madam-Ramphueng’s face, MaeYing Kesakaew sneered, grabbed Madam-Ramphueng by her hair to make her look up, and said,

“Do you think those two, mother and daughter, can help you in any way?”

Madam-Ramphueng was still crying as if her heart would break, but MaeYing Kesakaew showed no pity or compassion. She turned to speak to the two male servants holding Madam-Ramphueng,

“Take her to the storage room and lock her up. Follow me.” She then spoke to the rest of the servants, pushed Madam-Ramphueng’s head away forcefully, and walked towards the left wing of the house where MaeYing Koknang and her daughter resided…

Two days later, Phraya Worasingh returned home upon receiving grim news from one of the servants. The first was that MaeYing Kesakaew had given birth to a son, but the son had died shortly after birth. The second was about MadamRamphueng…

Madam-Ramphueng was released from the storage room where she had been locked up for two full days after hearing that her husband had returned. She ran to the house to complain about what had happened to her and her child, but in the house, there were not only Phraya Worasingh but also several men from the same lineage, from young to old, who had all received the same report.

The male servant who delivered the letters to everyone was from Ong Luang Phakdiwijitra, PhrayaWorasingh’s father, who was placed in the household to report back on the various goings-on to his master.

Phraya Worasingh had four full brothers and seven close male relatives, all of whom held good positions thanks to the connections of Phraya Chalermsak, father of MaeYing Kesakaew, and a friend of the current king. Whatever happened within Phraya Worasingh’s household, whether good or bad, was always under scrutiny by those in power.

Naturally, in this matter, everyone with stakes could not remain indifferent.

“So, what exactly happened? Madam-Ramphueng, you explain!” Ong Luang

Phakdiwijitra asked with a stern face. Surrounded by the men of authority,

Madam-Ramphueng felt a glimmer of hope. She quickly clasped her hands together and recounted the whole story in search of justice, her body still weak and tears streaming down her cheeks.

Phraya Worasingh’s face grew increasingly somber as he listened, and once she finished, he spoke up, then turned to a female servant waiting for orders not far away.

“This matter cannot be judged one-sidedly. Go fetch MaeYing Kesakaew and

MaeYing Kaknang.”

“Yes, sir.” The servant replied, hiding a smile before she left. Soon, she returned with MaeYing Kesakaew, who was being supported by a close attendant, looking frail and pale from grief and lack of sleep after losing her son. MaeYing Kaknang followed quietly, holding her daughter’s hand, her head down.

Once all three women were seated, Phraya Worasingh, with a trembling voice tinged with anger and sorrow, got straight to the point.

“Madam-Ramphueng says you threw her child into the river. Is this true?”

MaeYing Kesakaew, ignored in her own loss of a son and having nearly bled to death, could only swallow her grief and lift her head to speak:

“After losing my child, I’ve been feverish and bedridden, without the strength to do such a thing. Last night, Madam Kaknang and her daughter even came to visit me. If you don’t believe me, ask her.”

“Is this true?” MaeYing Kaknang met Madam-Ramphueng’s eyes briefly before looking away to respond to her husband.

“Really, sister?” Madam-Ramphueng’s eyes widened in disbelief at what she heard from MaeYing Koknang, then she screamed with all her might, her body thrashing in refusal, though still held down by the two male servants.

“It’s not true! It’s not true! Didn’t you and your daughter see what MaeYing

Kesakaew did to me that night? Why lie about it?” Phraya Worasingh looked at

Madam-Ramphueng with a mix of pain and pity in his eyes, then turned to look at MaeYing Koknang, who maintained an impassive expression, keeping all her emotions tightly controlled.

“What do you have to say?” Phraya Worasingh asked, feeling a tightness in his chest.

Madam-Ramphueng, fearing she wouldn’t receive justice, turned to Krongkwan.

“Krongkwan, you saw it that night, didn’t you? Please, help me!”

At this, all eyes turned to the little girl trembling beside her mother. But when her mother gently stroked her back, she took a deep breath and spoke in a quivering voice,

“Y-yes, I saw it.” PhrayaWorasingh swallowed hard, then continued to ask his daughter,

“What did you see, Krongkwan?”

“I saw Madam-Ramphueng throwing the baby into the river.”

After Krongkwan finished speaking, while Madam-Ramphueng was still in shock, the men, who were the decision-makers, subtly exhaled in relief.

Not long after, a female servant who had once been a close friend of MadamRamphueng, before she was made a wife, ran onto the platform holding a banana leaf parcel, saying a merchant from the market had left it for her.

“The merchant said Madam-Ramphueng had arranged for opium to be delivered every week, but she didn’t show up today after waiting for a long time. I went out to buy things for Lady Koknang, and he recognized me, so he left it with me.”

Upon hearing this, Madam-Ramphueng understood what had happened. She had been framed as an opium addict, having thrown her child into the river in a druginduced frenzy, mistakenly believing that MaeYing Kesakaew, whom she despised, was the perpetrator. That night, MaeYing Kesakaew had ordered her to be locked up until Phraya Worasingh returned.

“Aaaargh! No! No! Ugh! Waaaah!” Madam-Ramphueng screamed in anguish, but soon a servant gagged her with cloth, and two more men gripped her arms tightly, leaving only her legs to kick helplessly. The image of her child being thrown into the river was like a knife repeatedly stabbing her heart.

What the truth was, everyone knew well, but here, the truth was something that would only bring harm to oneself. Even Phraya Worasingh did not speak up or help Madam-Ramphueng.

When everything settled down, Ong Luang Phakdiwijitra struck his cane on the ground with a loud thump and declared:

“Take this deceitful servant away to be flogged to death!”

Madam-Ramphueng was dragged away crying, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional torment she endured.

She had only held her child a few times, embraced and smelled her baby only a handful of moments, and looked into the adorable face for a brief while before he was cruelly taken from her. Her husband did not lift a finger to help, the last beacon of hope turned his back, and she was falsely accused and left to die in disgrace.

Madam-Ramphueng’s body was left to lie in a pool of blood on the dirty ground, her once beautiful eyes now bloodshot and staring blankly like those of a demon, tears streaming endlessly, her lips, bitten until they bled, turning a dark purple as she muttered her last words:

“With my last breath, I curse you all…”

“…”

“Kesakaew, may you suffer a fate worse than what you’ve done to my child, and when you die, may you burn in hell, never to be reborn as a human.”

“…”

“From here on, may this family only face calamity. No sons shall continue the lineage. If the descendants are born as women, may they lose their lovers, either by separation or death. If they are born as men, let them die before the age of twenty.”

“Phii Khem! Phii Khem!”

“Phii Khem! Can you hear us!”

A small voice, as if heard before, pierced through the dimension, and her eyes opened wide to the scene before her.

From the ghostly form of Madam-Ramphueng, it transformed into Grandma-Si, with entirely black eyes, her hands strangling a boy with a ponytail in a blue mahout outfit who was struggling for life. Khem recognized them as Ekk and Thong, the ghost servants kept by the monk.

‘Run, Phii Khem!’

The voice of someone echoed again in Khem’s mind, snapping him back to the reality of his current situation. Although part of him didn’t want to escape alone, he knew he couldn’t do anything more. With his last bit of strength, he swam as fast as he could towards the surface.

Khem struggled up onto the dock, panting and crying, then crawled to the edge to look down into the water.

Grief, confusion, and anger churned in his chest. Grandma-Si, Thong, and Ekk, all of them were in this dire situation because of Khem.

Khem gasped for air, still sobbing. His heart wanted to jump back in to help Grandma-Si, Ek, and Tong, but he was also terrified that he might only make things worse.

At that moment, Khem’s arm was pulled back by Jett, with Chan running up, looking distressed.

“Khem! Are you okay?” Jett asked. Khem shook his head, tears still streaming down his face like someone out of their mind, his whole body trembling.

“Jett, Chan, Grandma-Si, Grandma-Si, ughhh.” Khem sobbed almost to the point of breaking down, while Jett and Chan exchanged confused glances. Then someone ran past them and dove into the water swiftly.

Splash!

Jett pulled Khem away from the edge, his eyes fixed on the spot where the water had rippled, his heart pounding. He didn’t dare to ask Khem what had happened.

Because the person who had jumped into the water was the master.

Pharan, in his blood-stained white shirt, dove into the pond. What Khem saw was Grandma-Si, no longer possessed by the evil spirit, and Ekk’s body floating beside her. On the other side, only a golden dust, the remnants of Thong’s spirit that had shattered, remained.

The tall figure swam to support the one who was like another mother to him, embracing her in his arms, while his other hand touched the head of his remaining spirit servant, reciting a mantra in his mind to send him back to the house.

Shortly after, Jett, Chan, and Khem saw the monk carrying Grandma-Si’s body out of the water. The oppressive and frightening feeling made the three of them step back several paces. Khem stood still, allowing the monk to pass with Grandma-Si in his arms, only watching the pale feet of Grandma-Si with a pained expression, not daring to look up to see the monk’s face.

Because they all knew that Grandma-Si, as the monk carried her, was no longer breathing.

 

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 28:

  Pharan continued his meditation even after Khem had left on the bicycle. However, not long after, the dog lying under the bamboo bed suddenly got up, howling and looking up towards the second floor of the house, sensing that something was about to happen, before it ran away in fear.

It’s back.

  Pharan called back the consciousness he had sent to follow Khem. After seeing the unfolding events, his black eyes suddenly widened, and he coughed up a mouthful of black blood.

Disaster.

  This word echoed in Pharan’s mind like a broken record. A pain as if a thousand needles were piercing his fingers and toes, combined with a burning sensation in his chest, made it hard for him to breathe. The clear images before his eyes were now growing dim, and his once clear eyes were now leaking blood in a disturbing manner.

What he saw in his consciousness indicated something deeply disturbing to Pharan, but the immediate concern was to find a way to reverse the dark magic curse.

It had entered Pharan’s body through ingestion.

The vision reflected memories from yesterday when he had eaten Grandma-Si’s steamed coconut-rice cake without much caution. That cake might have been mixed with saliva or perhaps passed over by something impure multiple times. Moreover, Grandma-Si herself possessed some magical knowledge, making it not difficult for her to cast a curse…

Now, both of Pharan’s eyes, still leaking blood, had gone blind. With one hand, he groped around for the silver basin containing holy water. Despite the excruciating headache that felt like his head might explode, he couldn’t afford to lie down.

Upon finding it, he placed the basin in front of him, reached out to take a candle and a lighter from a stainless steel tray, and lit it. Unable to see, he couldn’t focus his meditation on any particular point, so he couldn’t use his usual fire magic.

Feeling the warmth of the flame, he slowly dripped candle wax into the holy water, while moving his lips, still stained with dark blood, to chant the three Namo three times, followed by a chant to counteract the curse, both for spirits and humans that he had learned.

“Itipija Sukkhato Lokanatho Arahaṃ Patto Nānibbānasaññā…”

Meanwhile, Jett and Chan, who had to stay overnight at a temple in the province due to necessity, felt restless and couldn’t sleep because they were worried about the master and Khem. By 5 AM, they got up, washed their faces, brushed their teeth, and left the empty monk’s quarters to bid farewell to the abbot before heading back, even though it was still drizzling.

Jett drove back to the village using a shortcut he remembered from a past volunteer club trip, opting for this route because it was shorter than the usual path and to avoid the city’s congested traffic. His heart was uneasy since morning, which only intensified his driving.

The more he thought, the harder he pressed the accelerator, causing the speedometer to climb, though to Jett, everything around seemed to be moving too slowly, contrasting with Chan’s feelings in the passenger seat.

“Khun Jett, you’re driving too fast.” Chan said tensely, sweat trickling down his temple, something in his mind screaming that a disaster was imminent.

At that very moment, Jett saw a black dog dash out from the roadside, too close to stop in time. Both men’s eyes widened in shock, and Jett made the split-second decision to swerve off the road, crashing into a large tree.

BAM!!

Back with Khem, his large eyes were wide open in terror, his heart pounding with fear more intense than ever before. The sensation of dread gripped his throat, making it hard to breathe, as if the whole world had stopped spinning in an instant.

Khem recognized this voice; it was the same one he’d heard in his dreams, the one he woke up to when he was about to jump off the balcony.

And those entirely black eyes, the nearly black-purple lips, that face he’d seen in the sketches.

Before him was the vengeful spirit that cursed his mother’s family, the owner of the ancient Thai house dimension Khem had been dreaming about.

“…”

Tears streamed down Khem’s cheeks as he responded in a voice trembling with both fear and anger, because even though the face was someone else’s, the body belonged to Grandma-Si.

“Why use Grandma-Si’s body, what did Grandma-Si do to you?” The question made Madam Ramphueng’s smile slowly fade, her neck twisted back to an angle, her eyes that were squinted now wide open, and she replied in a chilling voice that echoed across the area,

“Now. Shouldn’t you be more worried about yourself?”

  At that very moment, the boat rocked violently, flipping over, and Khem fell into the cold water. Although he could swim, at this moment, his arms and legs wouldn’t move as he wanted them to, his eyes wide in shock.

He saw the figure of a woman in ancient Thai servant attire, with the same face as before, floating closer.

Her skin was pale like paper, revealing dark veins across her body, her eyes now mostly white with the pupils shrunken, and her dark lips still smiling.

As the face came within inches of him, the same voice whispered into his ear,

“I’m going to show you the vile things you and your family did to me.”

  Khem was pulled back into the dimension of an ancient Thai house once more. The scene was still in sepia tones, like an old drama being replayed. It was the same perspective he had seen multiple times in his dreams, but this time, it seemed different because Khem could clearly hear the voices of people in the house.

Memories of someone flooded into his mind, tracing back to about four hundred years ago when this Thai house was bestowed by the king to “Phraya Worasingh.” a high-ranking official who had been appointed as the governor of a secondary city in Siam at that time.

Phraya Worasingh was the son of “Lord Phakdiwijitra” and “Lady Anantawadi” who had risen from a minor noble rank due to the influence of “Lord Phraya

Chalermsak.” whose daughter “MaeYing Kesakaew” was his fiancée, and who was also a friend of the king, helping him to secure a position in the royal court.

At seventeen years old, Phraya Worasingh was a man of striking features and a tall, robust build, unmatched in this region by birth, and known for his sweet and charming speech with women. Anyone who came close to him would inevitably fall for his charm.

His reputation spread throughout the Kanchanaburi region, known as the most desirable man for young women to marry. This reputation reached the ears of MaeYing Kesakaew, the eighteen-year-old daughter of Ookya Chalermsak, a highranking official about to be promoted even further. Out of curiosity, as a young woman about to be married, she went to secretly observe Phraya Worasingh’s face.

From the very first glance, there was an immediate infatuation and admiration for each other. MaeYing Kesakaew was determined in her heart that she would marry Phraya Worasingh at any cost.

Originally, MaeYing Kesakaew was the youngest daughter of Ookya Chalermsak, raised with indulgence, which made her quite self-willed. She used her father’s rank and title to coerce Phraya Worasingh into proposing marriage to her.

At that time, Phraya Worasingh held a third-tier noble rank, his full name being

“Lord Singharat”. He was someone who cared deeply about his image and sought ways to advance to a higher noble rank to honor his family’s prestige. Hence, he agreed to marry MaeYing Kesakaew not out of love but out of necessity, fearing gossip from the villagers. They were engaged for two years before setting a date for the wedding.

Being eloquent and skilled in negotiation, after working in the palace and becoming close to the king, Phraya Worasingh used his cunning and quick wit to climb the ranks. Just three years after marrying MaeYing Kesakaew, he was promoted to the ninth-tier noble rank and was granted the new title, “Phraya Worasingh”.

Phraya Worasingh was set on having one or two sons to continue the family’s noble status and virtues, hoping they would achieve success as he had at the age of twenty, becoming a high-ranking noble and bringing honor to the family.

However, after three years of marriage, MaeYing Kesakaew had not given birth, whether to a daughter or a son. No matter what methods were tried, she simply did not conceive.

Unable to wait any longer, Phraya Worasingh married a second wife named

“MaeYing Radamani”, the daughter of the left minister, with the king’s support. Even Phraya Chalermsak, who was known for his rebellious spirit against the monarchy, could not object or do anything.

MaeYing Radamani was much loved by PhrayaWorasingh for her decorum, composure, youth, and flattery. She soon became pregnant and gave birth to two daughters in quick succession, but tragically, after giving birth, she could not have another child due to a mysterious accident where she fell from a balcony and died only a year after childbirth.

MaeYing Kesakaew, the primary wife, showed no interest in raising the children in place of their deceased mother, so Phraya Worasingh decided to send the girls to live with their grandparents in another nearby city.

Not long after, Phraya Worasingh took a third wife, “MaeYing Koknang”, daughter of “Ong Luang Surachet”. This marriage was one of obligation on her part, as she could not defy her parents’ orders. Within a year of their marriage, she gave birth to a daughter named “KrongKwan”.

MaeYing Koknang was known for her reserved nature and modesty. Even though Phraya Worasingh felt disappointed for not having a son as he hoped, he never dared to show his irritation or displeasure towards her. He only named the child and returned to his duties at the palace as usual.

Two years later, a new group of servants was sent to Phraya Worasingh’s residence, among whom Phraya Worasingh noticed a woman with radiant skin and beauty beyond the ordinary. Upon inquiring, he learned her name was:

‘Ramphueng’

  PhrayaWorasingh was greatly enamored with Madam-Ramphueng, his heart almost bursting with desire to make her his wife. He even had severe arguments with his primary wife, MaeYing Kesakaew, because he had promised not to take another wife.

Ultimately, Phraya Worasingh managed to elevate Madam-Ramphueng to be his fourth wife, as his heart desired. Not long after, Madam-Ramphueng conceived another child for him.

However, during this same time, MaeYing Kesakaew also became pregnant. This coincided with Phraya Worasingh being away for a long time due to his official duties.

MaeYing Kesakaew began to intentionally harass the servant wife, MadamRamphueng, in various ways. MaeYing Koknang, being in a lower position, could not intervene, as the primary wife held greater power, and she didn’t want to cause trouble for her parents if the conflict reached Lord Phraya Chalermsak’s ears.

Nevertheless, MaeYing Koknang often secretly sent necessary items to MadamRamphueng out of compassion, hoping both Madam-Ramphueng and MaeYing Kesakaew would give birth to sons for Phraya Worasingh.

When the delivery day came, both MaeYing Kesakaew and Madam-Ramphueng went into labor simultaneously. However, a terrible event unfolded: MaeYing Kesakaew gave birth to a son but the son died before seeing him, while MadamRamphueng delivered a healthy son safely.

MaeYing Kesakaew screamed and cried uncontrollably before fainting from the shock.

That very night, after MaeYing Kesakaew regained consciousness, she led several servants to Madam-Ramphueng’s room, ordering them to hold MadamRamphueng while they took her child away.

Madam Ramphueng’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach; she quickly shook herself free from the grasp of several servants who were holding her back and ran after MaeYing Kesakaew, fearing that what would happen next might shatter her heart.

Upon reaching the riverbank, MaeYing Kesakaew stood at the end of the pier, holding Madam Ramphueng’s child. Madam Ramphueng cried out silently in sheer terror, her arms reaching out in desperate hope of reclaiming her son.

‘Madam, please don’t do this, return my child to me, I beg you.’ pleaded Madam Ramphueng. However, MaeYing Kesakaew shook her head, rejecting the plea.

If the child of a servant in her household were to grow up and take everything that should have belonged to her own son, not to mention the gossip and accusations that would come, her life was already miserable enough. She could not let that happen.

‘If my child was not to be born, neither will yours.’

With that, the baby, who was crying, was mercilessly thrown into the river right before the mother’s eyes.

Madam Ramphueng’s scream pierced the air, but it was soon muffled as the servants of MaeYing Kesakaew caught up to her, holding her back and covering her mouth to prevent any sound, leaving only her wide eyes filled with disbelief and tears streaming down.

This harrowing scene by the water’s edge was witnessed entirely by

Krongkwan, the daughter of MaeYing Koknang, who in this life, is none other than Khem and his now-deceased mother.

 

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KHEMJIRA, Chapter 27:

  Khem felt his heart lighten, as if a great weight had been lifted from his chest. Though there were still heavier burdens to bear, it helped him breathe easier. The act of making merits further soothed his mind, giving him the strength to carry on with life.

Khem followed the abbot out of the pavilion, pausing to look up at the clear sky. The cool breeze carried the sweet fragrance of frangipani flowers, and a gentle smile spread across Khem’s face.

Khem prayed that both his mother and Chayot might live happily in their next lives, free from the worry of watching over him.

Feeling unburdened, Khem momentarily forgot he wasn’t alone here. Realizing this, he started slightly, but when he looked ahead, he saw the broad back of the abbot not far off, his long legs stepping slowly as if waiting for Khem to catch up. This sight made the slight figure of Khem unable to suppress a joyful smile, and he quickly stepped to follow.

Jett and Chan were sent to look for information about a famous monk, a close friend of their grandfather, who Pharan also respected as a master. The monk’s name was “Luang Por Kasem.” He hadn’t been heard from for many years since he went on a forest retreat. Since the village was quite remote with poor cell phone reception, making contact was difficult, so Jett and Chan were to ask around among the other disciples in the city for any leads.

They wanted to ask him about something specific, believing he still carried it with him.

That evening, while sitting at the dining table reading a book and waiting for Khem to finish preparing dinner, the rain suddenly started pouring heavily, lasting for over an hour.

“Reverend, Jett texted to say there’s heavy rain in the city, so they won’t be able to return tonight. They’ll stay at the city temple and come back tomorrow morning.” Khem said, as he placed a plate of the finished dish he had prepared in front of the abbot. It seemed the intermittent phone signal was just enough to communicate with their friends.

“Um.” Pharan replied softly, closing his book and placing it aside before quietly starting to eat.

“Master, Grandma-Si had the village chief bring some pandan pudding for you.

Would you like some?” Khem asked while he was clearing away the dishes. Pharan, still seated and reading, nodded.

“Bring it over.”

Memories from when he was a child surfaced; pandan pudding was the first dessert Grandma-Si made for him. It was made to replace his eleventh birthday cake. That year, Grandfather couldn’t return from his business in another province in time, and his real father was busy at a celebration for a high-ranking official.

Whether they were busy or not, they never paid much attention to him anyway.

  On his birthday, Grandfather left him with Grandma-Si, promising to pick him up in the evening for a treat, but he had an accident and couldn’t make it back. So, he had to stay overnight at Grandma-Si’s house.

  Grandma-Si knew it was his birthday, and seeing the little boy waiting at the door, she felt a pang of sympathy. She got up to make pandan pudding, topped with young coconut, and placed a single candle in the center. She brought it out to him, singing a traditional Isan birthday blessing, as she didn’t know the English birthday song.

  At that moment, his face broke into a rare, full smile, warmth spreading in his chest, a memory etched permanently in his heart.

  The pandan pudding was placed in front of him. He picked it up quietly and ate it until it was gone.

  Once Khem had finished cleaning up the kitchen, Pharan finally stopped reading, stood up from his chair, walked up the stairs to the house, and listened for the footsteps following him.

“Can you sleep alone?” He asked before Khem headed to his own room. Khem quickly nodded.

“Yes.”

His onyx eyes looked at the person with his head bowed, his voice lacking any confidence. Pharan guessed that Khem was used to having bodyguards sleep nearby, and without his friends, he looked unusually subdued and spoke less than normal.

But if he says he can do it, then he’ll definitely do it. If he can’t do it, he’ll still find a way. He certainly wouldn’t want to waste time lingering like last time.

“Hmm, take a quick shower and go to bed.” Khem said, nodding once more with a firm expression.

“Yes, Master.”

Today, Khem showered faster than usual and went straight to bed, intending to fall asleep quickly, hoping to wake up to find Jett and Chan the next morning.

It took Khem a while to feel sleepy, but just before he drifted off, he heard the small voices of two boys.

“Phii Khem has fallen asleep.”

“Yeah. Should we stand guard, or should we leave?”

“The Master said to keep watch, but he didn’t say until when.”

“Let’s stay for now. Phii Khem might have another nightmare.”

“That’s true.”

At that moment, the hair on Khem’s arms stood up, and his eyes, unwilling to stay closed, opened to see who was standing there talking by his ear.

Khem saw two boys in blue school uniforms with their hair in buns, both no older than twelve, with pale, nearly identical faces.

Even as their eyes rolled in unison back to the center and stared directly at Khem, the synchronization was eerie…

Khem gasped sharply with fear, grabbed his pillow and blanket, and ran out of the room crying without looking back.

Thong and Ek turned to look at each other in that instant.

“Oh no.”

“We’re in trouble now.”

Fortunately, the Master had left the lights on in the house tonight, so Khem didn’t need to waste time lighting a lantern to guide his way. He ran straight to the door of the master’s room. However, he didn’t dare to knock or call out, even holding back his sobs so as not to disturb.

The two child ghosts he had seen didn’t follow as he had feared, so Khem decided to sleep in front of the master’s door. But just as he was about to lay down his pillow, the door opened.

Pharan looked at Khem with a stern expression and asked abruptly,

“What are you doing?”

Khem quickly wiped his tears, stuttering as he spoke, glancing around cautiously.

“It’s just…Can I sleep in front of your door, please? I promise I’ll be quiet and won’t disturb you, Master.” Khem didn’t dare to say he was frightened by a ghost, as it sounded too ridiculous to bother someone late at night for such a reason.

Pharan stared at Khem in silence, his sharp eyes then darting to the two culprits standing guiltily in the corner of the room. He waved his hand dismissively, sending them off to play elsewhere.

“Come in.” He said, moving aside, but Khem just blinked, seemingly not understanding.

“Huh?”

“If you think sleeping in front of my door will save you, then do as you please.”

As he was about to close the door, Khem’s survival instincts kicked in, and he jumped inside.

Pharan sighed softly before closing the door, nodding towards a cabinet.

“The bedding is in there. Go get it and make your bed.” Khem nodded, though he still seemed unsure.

“Where would you like me to sleep?”

“Wherever you want.” Pharan replied, then walked back to sit leaning against the headboard to continue reading his book, no longer paying attention to Khem.

Khem quietly placed down the pillow and blanket, then went to retrieve the picnic mattress from the cabinet, closing it neatly afterward. He laid the mattress beside the monk’s bed, not forgetting to softly ask for permission before doing so.

After that, no one spoke. Khem didn’t want to disturb the monk’s concentration while reading. Once the bed was made, he placed the pillow, unfolded the blanket, paid respects to the Buddha, and lay down.

Suddenly, Khem felt extremely sleepy. His clear round eyes fluttered as he tried to take one last look at the monk, whispering a thank you before drifting off to sleep.

Pharan slowly closed his book and placed it on the headboard, gazing at the child lying on his side, cheek pressed against the pillow, for a long moment before extinguishing the light from the lamp to prepare for sleep.

Outside, the sound of thunder rumbled in waves. At this time, everyone in the village had already closed their doors and gone to sleep.

…

Grandma-Si walked out of her house into the rain, making her way to a banyan tree at a three-way junction. She sat down in front of a small banana leaf packet filled with food, which was now soaked with rainwater.

Grandma-Si smiled, revealing teeth stained dark from betel nut chewing, and began to ravenously eat the food from the packet.

…

Khem, thinking he had woken up early, was still later than the Reverend. After waking, he quickly put away his bedding, took his things back to his room, and went downstairs to prepare breakfast.

Since Grandma-Si had made some steamed coconut-rice cakes the previous day, the master instructed Khem to cook extra food for Grandma-Si as well, asking anyone passing by to take it to her.

Regarding the two young boy ghosts Khem saw, when he asked the master while serving him coffee, he learned that they were spirits the Reverend had taken under his care, named Ek and Thong. They had watched over Khem last night because Chan and Jett were not around. They didn’t intend to scare him; they just didn’t expect him to wake up.

Hearing this, Khem felt relieved and a bit guilty. If he were to take food to Grandma-Si, he planned to buy some red drink to offer as well.

By about 9 a.m., Jett and Chan still hadn’t returned. Seeing no one was coming by, Khem borrowed the master’s bicycle to take the food to Grandma-Si, worried that it would become cold and less tasty.

Before reaching Grandma-Si’s house, Khem saw her standing by the temple wall as if she knew he was coming. Grandma-Si waved him over. As Khem approached, he stopped the bike and smiled,

“Grandma-Si. I brought you some food. Where are you heading to?”

“I’m going to pick lotus stems from the pond behind the temple. Can you come and keep me company? I’m scared of falling in the water.”

Khem nodded upon hearing her request, thinking he could swim well enough.

There shouldn’t be any problems.

“Okay, let’s go then.”

“Ah, thank you so much.”

Khem led Grandma-Si to the pond behind the temple. There was a small dock with a rowboat for two people tied up, indicating that villagers often came here to gather lotus.

“Can you row, child?” Grandma-Si asked without looking back.

“Yes, I can. Grandma-Si can stay here, I’ll gather them.” Khem replied, remembering that Grandma-Si had said she was afraid of falling into the water, and he was also worried she might actually fall in.

“No, I’ll gather them myself.” Grandma-Si said firmly, making Khem blink in surprise. But when he saw Grandma-Si walk down and sit in the boat on her own, he quickly followed, sitting behind her.

Khem untied the rope securing the boat to a stump, pushed off from the dock with the oar, and started rowing with determination.

Suddenly, Khem felt the atmosphere around him grow eerily quiet, the sky unnaturally dark and still. There were no bird calls or insect sounds, and the temperature dropped, sending chills all over his body.

Khem gradually stopped rowing because Grandma-Si was still sitting motionless, not reaching out to pick the lotus stems. Feeling increasingly uneasy, he asked, his heart starting to beat faster,

“Grandma-Si, aren’t you going to pick the lotus stems?” But Grandma-Si didn’t reply with words; instead, she began to sway gently, making the boat rock side to side, causing the wood to creak.

Khem’s heart sank to the bottom of the boat, fear flooding his chest, a familiar dread. He called out, hoping what he feared wasn’t true.

“Uh, Grandma-Si…”

And then, Khem’s plea went unanswered. Grandma-Si slowly turned her head towards him, her body not following, still swaying.

Her eyes were entirely black, no whites, her lips a dark purple, and her face, once familiar, now belonged to someone else.

The dark lips slowly smiled, the entirely black eyes curved, and in a chilling voice, she said,

“This time, don’t expect to escape.”

 

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 26:

  Phawat was like a giant wave eroding the shore, gradually expanding and infiltrating the space in Khemika’s heart.

  The place that should have belonged to Chayot.

  But reality was harsh, and Chayot couldn’t deny that he couldn’t match his brother in any aspect – be it looks, education, or career. Thus, all he could do was watch as their love grew beautifully and steadily.

Finally, the opportunity he never thought he’d get came about when the two were forced to part ways.

  Chayot seized that opportunity to get close to Khemika again, doing everything he could, directly or indirectly, for better or worse. He didn’t care what others thought of him, whether they labeled him as vile or despicable, as long as he could stand by Khemika as her lover, it was enough.

  However, tragically, things didn’t go as Chayot had hoped. Not only was he unable to replace her brother, Phawat, but he also ended up destroying the person he loved the most, Khemika, bringing her to a sorrowful end.

  Khemika died holding a forged letter created by Chayot to deceive her, and that image haunted Chayot like a nightmare, leading to his depression. Every breath he took was filled with pain and suffering, eating away at his will to continue living in this world until he was worn down.

  Five years after Khemika’s departure, on the calendar date of October 12th of that year, Chayot decided to end his life by jumping off a building.

  That day was marked by heavy rain, the same weather as when Chayot first met Khemika at the playground, and the last time he saw her at her cremation.

  Khem opened his eyes, tears streaming down his face after witnessing those scenes, now understanding why Chayot chose to linger and wouldn’t leave.

  Chayot loved Khemika deeply, more than anyone else in the world, more than himself.

But because Chayot had never received proper love and upbringing from his family, he didn’t know how to be a good lover, leading to this tragic end.

Pharan slowly opened his eyes. The scenes Khem had just seen were possible because Pharan had previously communicated with Chayot’s spirit, which was trapped in a jar, and had once delved into Chayot’s memories. What happened was a transfer through Pharan’s memories, acting as a medium.

Of course, there were scenes too terrifying for Khem to handle, so he slightly adjusted his own memories, making what he saw less unbearable.

“Once you’ve come to terms with it, light the incense.” Pharan continued.

Khem quickly wiped away his tears and took one incense stick from the stainless steel tray prepared by the monk, lighting it. He then clasped his hands together with the incense and began his invitation, as the monk went to unveil the red yantra cloth from the pot.

“Chayot…it’s me, Khem.”

Suddenly, a cold breeze swept through Khem’s body and distorted the smoke from the incense, even though the room was sealed without windows, making it impossible for outside air to enter.

Khem thought that Chayot must have heard his voice but was too afraid to show himself.

“Chayot, I’ve never been angry at you. I understand you didn’t mean it, so don’t be scared, okay?”

“…”

“Come out and have another meal cooked by me.” He finished saying, then placed the incense into a small pot in front of him.

Looking up, he saw the figure of a young man in a khaki civil servant uniform once again through the incense smoke, and gradually everything became clearer.

Chayot looked quite normal, not as terrifying as in the dream, just pale and lifeless. He was kneeling, his head bowed, gripping his pants tightly with both hands, filled with fear, sorrow, and pressure.

Khem took a deep breath and slowly crawled closer to Chayot, sitting down beside him.

“Chayot.” Khem called out again, reaching out to place his hand on Chayot’s, which was cold and pale.

Chayot looked up with a start, surprised that Khem would dare to touch him like this, especially after he had created such terrible memories for Khem.

And then there was the matter of their past life, for which he felt he shouldn’t be forgiven.

Khem met Chayot’s eyes and smiled, his large round eyes curving into crescents, before tears began to stream down his face.

“Chayot, thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“…”

“I was so stubborn in our past life, and in this one, I’ve been weak. You must have been exhausted, always protecting me.” Khem said, his lips tightening before he slowly bowed his head.

“…”

“I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you, Chayot.”

“…”

“Even though, hic, I really wanted you to live a happy life, just like I did, hic, I’m so sorry, Chayot.” Khem’s words were like a warm stream soothing Chayot’s heart, and the small hands now holding Chayot’s were free of fear, filled instead with goodwill and a guilt that no one had ever shown him before.

Khem had never harbored resentment against Chayot and was always ready to forgive him, yet Chayot had committed numerous vile acts against someone who deserved the utmost care.

Chayot wept silently, his sobs nearly breaking his heart as he recalled the nightmarish events, slowly lifting his fragile hands to his forehead, resting it against that warmth, and tears flowed incessantly.

“I’m sorry, Khem, I’m sorry for making you suffer waiting for your brother’s letter, sorry for causing your death when you didn’t deserve it, sorry for not letting you be with the one you loved as you always hoped. I’m sorry.”

  Chayot’s voice echoed in Khem’s mind, conveying his deep regret and sorrow for what he had done.

Khem’s heart gradually lightened as he let go of everything. With his free hand, Khem reached out to touch Chayot’s shoulder, gently comforting him before accepting Chayot’s apology.

“It’s okay. I forgive you. From now on, Chayot, you don’t have to feel guilty or be bound by anything to do with me anymore.”

That’s right. The reason Chayot lingered and never left wasn’t because he wanted to possess Khem, but because he felt guilty for causing Khemika’s death and wanted to protect and watch over Khem, ensuring he was safe from all dangers in this life.

Chayot just wanted Khem to live as long as possible, that’s all.

Chayot nodded in acknowledgment, even though his tears wouldn’t stop flowing, before the scene before him changed from Khem to his brother, who had been reborn.

“P…Phii.” Chayot swallowed hard, trembling, then lowered his head to avoid his brother’s sharp gaze once more. His brother in this life was not as kind or gentle as in his past life.

But no matter how different they were, Khem’s heart belonged to this person once again as if it were predestined.

In any lifetime, he could never outmatch this man…

It was at that moment that Chayot felt a gentle hand reaching to stroke his head lightly.

Chayot opened his eyes wide at the tender touch, reminiscing about his childhood when he constantly followed his older brother around, clinging to his legs wherever he went.

This was the love and attachment Chayot had for his brother, without any conditions.

Then came the day when his brother won a scholarship to study abroad at the age of thirteen. Slowly, they began to drift apart.

Before he realized it, Chayot found that he could no longer keep up with his brother. The pressure and comparisons from family and relatives made him feel inferior, which transformed their once close relationship into one of distance and coldness.

When Phawat returned after finishing his studies, everything had changed. The younger brother who used to run and cling to him every time they met now just smiled, paid his respects, and went off to spend time with friends outside the home. When he returned, he would lock himself in his room instead of watching TV together like they used to.

Phawat withdrew his hand and spoke softly,

“I’m sorry I wasn’t a good brother to you back then.”

In their past life, Phawat was so consumed with chasing his dream of becoming a doctor that he neglected his younger brother, leaving Chayot to face pain he had never known before.

Even when Chayot died and news was sent, Phawat was still treating patients on the battlefield, never looking back.

“If I had known how our parents treated you, I would have taken you with me.”

“…”

“If I had just asked you what was happening, if I had cared more about you, things wouldn’t have turned out like this.”

“…”

“Everything that happened is my fault for failing you.”

“…”

Chayot stared into Pharan’s eyes with disbelief, but those black, calm eyes were filled with sincerity and steadiness, every word uttered from true heart without embellishment.

“But I won’t ask for your forgiveness. Just tell me what you want. If I can do it for you, I will do everything.”

Chayot’s eyes grew hot once more because he had been waiting for these words from his brother for so long. He had wanted protection, he had wanted care from his real brother just like other children.

At the very least, if his parents didn’t love him, having his brother’s love would have been enough.

But just as water cannot flow backward, time cannot be turned back.

Now, Chayot, receiving an apology from his brother, felt as if all the suffering in his heart had been released. He no longer needed love or care.

Chayot lifted his arm to wipe away his tears and nodded, his voice still trembling with soft sobs. With his pale hands clasped together, he bowed at his brother’s feet in place of asking for forgiveness.

“Thank you. I thank you, and I apologize for everything I have done.”

  “…”

“I ask for your forgiveness, hic, and please take care of Khem for me, can you do that? I promise I’ll go to where I should be and not disturb you or

Khem anymore.” Chayot said through his tears, still sniffling. His only remaining concern now was Khem; that vengeful spirit wouldn’t relent until it got Khem’s soul.

Pharan placed a bowl of rice in front of Chayot, followed by two dishes, and spoke softly, “I forgive you. As for what you’ve asked, I promise to do what I can.

You don’t need to worry.”

Khem bit his lip gently, unsure if what the master said was to encourage Chayot to let go and depart peacefully or if there was some truth in it, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit of joy deep down.

Chayot wiped his tears once more before nodding, then picked up the chopsticks and took a bite of the food Khem had prepared. With just one mouthful, he felt the warmth of the food spread through his chest.

Chayot hadn’t had such a good meal in a very long time.

Tears flowed down Chayot’s cheeks again before he turned to compliment Khem with a smile.

“It’s so delicious, your cooking still tastes the same, Khem.” Khem smiled back and nodded.

“Uh, eat a lot then. After this, we’ll make merit together often, so don’t worry,

Chayot.” Chayot beamed with joy upon hearing this, despite the sadness in his heart at the thought of parting.

But this was for the best.

After finishing the meal, it was time for their final farewell before Chayot would return to the pot, so they could take it to the temple for the monks to perform the spirit-sending ceremony the next day.

Chayot reached out and gently stroked Khem’s head.

“From now on, take good care of yourself.”   Khem nodded in understanding.

“I understand. You too, Chayot.”

Chayot smiled gently. His face seemed more radiant after the meal, then he turned to his brother to say, “I’ll go now.”

Pharan nodded, replying simply,

“Good luck.”

With that, Chayot stood up and stepped into the same clay pot, and Pharan then covered it with the red yantra cloth, placing it back in its spot before returning to

Khem, who was standing with a lamp, saying in a calm yet gentle tone,

“When you wake up early tomorrow, I’ll take you to make merit at the temple.”

The next morning, Pharan and Khem arrived at the village temple together. Pharan wore a long-sleeved black shirt, well-fitted grey trousers, black leather shoes, and the same sunglasses. Khem was in a traditional white cotton outfit that he had bought with Jett and Chan a few days earlier.

Today, neither of Khem’s friends came along as they were sent by the monk to run errands outside the village.

On the way, they stopped to offer alms with Uncle-Lah’s family. Upon arriving at the temple, they handed over the pot to the abbot, as they had done before, and together they offered a large container of monastic requisites, dedicating the merit to Chayot. Then both of them slowly poured water from the brass water-pouring vessel, reciting the water-pouring chants in unison as instructed by the abbot.

“May all this merit lead to forgiveness for those who have been wronged. May all those who have been wronged find happiness.”

As the words were concluded, a gentle breeze softly blew through the two figures, as if in acknowledgment.

Khem sat listening to the abbot and Pharan talk for a short while longer. Then, both of them bowed in respect and took their leave.

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 25:

  Jett had noticed the white smoke, about waist-high, swirling around the master since earlier. These were the twin servant spirits, Ekk and Thong, that the master had taken care of.

In truth, Ekk and Thong were originally servant spirits of Pharan’s grandfather, a powerful sorcerer. When the grandfather passed away, Pharan took over their care instead of releasing their spirits as one might expect.

When Jett was younger, he could see spirits more clearly than he does now, so he remembered what Ekk and Thong looked like. The first time he met them, he ended up talking and playing with them for a long time, only realizing they were ghosts when the master made them disappear right in front of him.

Back then, Jett was very attached to Ekk and Thong. Even knowing they were spirits, not humans, he would often call out to them and play with them. This behavior seemed strange to others who saw him talking or playing alone, showing no interest in other children. This was because Ekk and Thong always warned him about who was good or bad, and most people were envious of his wealth or saw him as a stepping stone to climb higher.

Eventually, Jett became a quiet child who didn’t socialize much. His parents, fearing this behavior would cause issues in the future, asked the master to help adjust Jett’s behavior, as they were too busy to handle it themselves.

Jett was put through a ritual by Pharan to close his third eye, preventing him from seeing spirits anymore. This meant Jett could no longer see Ek and Thong. At twelve years old, Jett went through the ritual crying, overwhelmed by sadness.

In the end, out of pity, the master softened and changed his approach, so that Jett could still see ghosts or spirits, but they appeared rather indistinct, and he couldn’t communicate with them.

Nowadays, Jett could still sense that Ekk and Thong often lingered nearby to protect him and his friends. Even though they no longer spoke as they used to, this was enough for him.

While he was lost in thought, the master suddenly put on his sunglasses that were tucked in his shirt collar and stood up.

Jett thought the master wanted to go home, so he stood up to follow. This also prompted Chan, who was watching the boxing, to stand up, but the master gestured for Jett and Chan to sit back down.

“Where are you going, Master?” Jett blinked and asked. The master replied without looking back,

“I’m going to get some iced tea.”

“Are you going by yourself, Master? It’s very hot outside. Wouldn’t it be better if

I went to buy it?” Jett offered with good intentions, but the master shook his head briefly in refusal.

“I’ll go myself.” With that, he turned and walked away, not giving Jett a chance to object further, which left Jett puzzled, furrowing his brows and tilting his head in confusion.

In truth, when the master was alone, he usually did things by himself. But when his disciples were around to serve him, he never turned down their kindness. The disciples were always allowed to do things for him, making it rare for him to insist on doing something alone like this.

Or could it be…

“Hey, Chan.”

“I’m not going. Just sit here quietly and let the master go.

Jett was about to suggest they follow the master, but Chan guessed his intention.

Upon hearing this, Jett was momentarily annoyed.

Luckily, before sitting down, Chan had bought some grilled bananas that Jett liked, which helped him calm down and sit quietly, eating the bananas.

Indeed, it was as hot outside as Jett had mentioned.

Pharan walked past several old coffee shops until he stopped in front of a juice bar…

It seemed that with each passing day, his resolve was slipping more and more.

“Have you finished buying things?” Pharan’s voice came from above Khem’s head, causing Khem to jump and look up. Pong was equally startled, not having noticed when the master had arrived.

“Uh, master.” Pharan responded with a frown.

“I asked.”

“Y-Yes, I am done, here…Phii Pong.”

Pong looked at the master and then at Khem, feeling a twinge in his heart, but there was little he could do except accept the watermelon smoothie from Khem’s hand, especially since the real deal was now here. It was time for someone like him to step back.

“Thank you, Nong Khem. We’ll talk later then.” But something prompted Pong to gently ruffle Khem’s hair and smile before respectfully bowing to the master.

“I’ll be going now, master. My father and I will come to visit when we have time.”

After Pong left, Khem looked up at the master and asked,

“Shall we go now, master?” Pharan looked at Khem’s slightly disheveled hair, which had been ruffled by Pong, with an unreadable expression hidden behind his dark sunglasses. His emotions were turbulent within him, yet he had no outlet for them.

There was no scripture to recite, and he couldn’t meditate right there.

In the end, he reached up to fix Khem’s natural brown hair back into place, seemingly ignoring Khem’s wide-eyed, almost frightened look, and said,

“I want some iced tea.” Khem’s face immediately flushed, and he quickly nodded in agreement, following behind the master to buy iced tea, his hand secretly touching where he had been touched, his heart beating fast, before letting out a small sigh.

The master always made him think too much, and Khem was tired of constantly having to control his feelings.

Jett and Chan, who had not been waiting for long, saw the master return with a bag of oliang for the tea and their best friend following with cold milk. This sight made Jett bite his lip to contain his laughter, almost ready to slap his knee in triumph because his guess was spot on.

But he didn’t dare…

There were also two more bags of iced tea that Khem brought, because Pharan had offered to buy him a drink, so Khem decided to get some for Jett and Chan as well.

After watching the boxing for a while longer, chief Chang came to discuss business as he had arranged with the master. It was about installing a mobile phone signal tower, which would improve communication for the villagers and those in nearby areas.

Once their discussion was over, they headed back home. Not long after Jett parked the car, Uncle Chai and Auntie Kaew came to take it back and also brought some of Grandma Si’s steamed custard cakes.

For dinner that evening, Khem had bought fresh shrimp pad Thai from the boxing match event because it looked clean and appetizing, and it was plentiful, so they didn’t cook anything else.

After finishing both the savory and sweet dishes, everyone dispersed. Today, Jett and Chan were given a break from their usual meditation practice, so they planned to watch movies with Khem. They bought some snacks on the way back to prepare for their movie night.

Meanwhile, Pharan, after parting ways with the kids, went to meditate in the shrine room, reflecting on the events of the past few days.

Why had all this started, and when did it begin?

  Why, the more he tried to run away, the more he was drawn closer?

  Why, the more he pushed away, the less he could bear it when the other person tried to distance himself.

  Was it because of the lingering memories from the past, or was it out of pity for that child?

  Maybe both, or maybe neither.

  His furrowed brows relaxed slightly.

  Time would be the ultimate test.

  But before reaching that point, he should resolve the issues carried over from their past life.

  Late that night, after finishing two movies, Jett and Chan moved from Khem’s bed to their own.

The wooden door of the bedroom was pushed open once more, this time with Pharan using magic to ensure Jett and Chan slept soundly as before, albeit it took longer than usual because their spirits had grown much stronger through daily training.

His efforts in teaching them hadn’t been in vain.

With his long legs, he approached the person sleeping with fluttering eyelids, sat down beside the bed, placed his hand on Khem’s forehead, silently recited a spell, and then gently blew on Khem’s head.

After only a few moments of waiting, Khem, who had dreamt of the master, woke up. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, they widened as he saw the master sitting beside him.

“Master…”

“Come with me.” The master said softly, almost like an order, before standing up and leaving the room, leaving Khem to follow in a daze.

The master led Khem to the kitchen, instructing him to prepare two simple dishes: fish cake soup and fried salted fish, along with hot steamed rice. Then they carried the tray of food up to the house.

At this time, only the light from the lantern in the master’s hand guided them. Khem followed the master to a door on the right wing of the Thai house, an area Jett had warned Khem never to enter.

The atmosphere here was eerily cold and unwelcoming. Above the door was a red talisman written by hand. Just looking at this door made Khem’s heart beat with unexplained fear, wondering why the master had brought him here.

Pharan seemed to sense Khem’s feelings, turned around, and looked at the trembling figure behind him.

“Look up.” He commanded, but Khem stubbornly refused to comply. In the end, Pharan had to gently lift Khem’s chin with his fingertips. The light from the lantern clearly revealed Khem’s face.

Before he knew it, Khem was already crying.

Seeing Khem’s tears softened Pharan’s demeanor. He spoke in a soothing, deep voice,

“I’m here. What are you afraid of?”

“…”

“Take deep breaths and focus your mind.” Khem blinked away his tears, slowly inhaled, and tried to compose himself as instructed by the master.

Pharan approved with a hum when he saw Khem’s obedient demeanor, as if praising him for doing well, while gently wiping the tears from Khem’s cheeks with his finger. Khem was so startled his eyes widened, then he quickly looked down again.

“I’m sorry.” Khem said, feeling both guilty for acting without considering the situation and embarrassed, unsure which emotion was stronger.

“Come in.” Khem swallowed hard before stepping into the room behind the master.

The master placed the oil lamp on the floor, instructed Khem to set the food tray on the opposite side, and then sat down with the lamp between him and the tray.

The master had disappeared somewhere within the room. Khem looked around to survey the surroundings. Although he couldn’t see clearly, he guessed this must be a storage room.

Not long after, the master returned with a clay pot inscribed with symbols, its opening covered with a red yantra cloth, which he placed near the food tray before sitting down beside Khem.

However, upon seeing the pot on the other side of the oil lamp, Khem’s fear intensified, making him want to retreat, but the master’s arm barred his movement.   Khem immediately sensed who was trapped inside that pot.

The deeply buried, terrible memories were dredged up again, and the horror of it made Khem want to cry out loudly.

“Ugh…”

But in reality, Khem couldn’t cry out; he could only stare at the clay pot with wide, unblinking eyes, his breath shaky and uneven, enough to make anyone’s heart sink.

Unsure of when it happened, the master had moved to sit close enough for their shoulders to touch. His warm hand gently stroked from Khem’s head down to his back in a soothing rhythm, his deep voice seeming to sweep away the fear.

“Stay calm.”

“I’m here.”

“Ugh.” Khem hiccupped before slowly nodding through his tears, his cold hand reaching out to tightly grasp the master’s rough one, seeking the warmth to calm his mind, only to find himself being held in return…

This action entirely shifted Khem’s attention back to himself.

“Listen carefully. This is what you need to do.”

“…”

“The karma from this life is too heavy for anyone to help you escape, whether it’s Jett, Chan, or even me.”

“…”

“The matter of the karmic debts related to your family, even though I can’t help much, but as for Chayot’s case, I have a responsibility to share with you.”

“…”

“At least, if we can release him, it will lighten the burden.”

“…”

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Khem slowly nodded his head, his heart swelling then suddenly deflating when he realized that all these actions were taken by the master merely out of a sense of past responsibility, not out of any other feelings towards him.

But at least, the other party was acting out of goodwill towards him, even though he was just someone seeking refuge. Not a student that needed protection and care, yet the master still extended his compassion.

Khem took a deep breath before softly asking,

“What should I do, sir?”

Pharan could read Khem’s eyes and thought he might have misunderstood something, but he didn’t intend to explain now. The important thing was releasing his brother from the past.

“Meditate, control your breathing, think of something that calms your mind, and let go of your worries.” The master’s touch gradually withdrew as Khem placed his right hand over his left and closed his eyes.

Khem thought of painting amidst nature, surrounded by green trees, with a light mist and gentle breeze.

Once his mind was calm, Khem’s demeanor relaxed. Pharan continued,

“The reason Chayot has followed you across lifetimes like this must be because there was a promise between you in the past. Try to remember what you did or promised, take your time to recall it. Don’t rush.”

Khem inhaled deeply again and followed the instructions, delving deep into his fading memories, swimming through the pain, farewells, smiles, and laughter of every age, up to the first time he met Chayot.

That day, it was drizzling. Khemika, at nine years old, was riding in the car her father was driving back home. However, as they were passing by a playground, she noticed a boy sitting alone on a swing, even though the rain was about to pour heavily.

  Khemika recognized the boy; he had recently transferred to her school and was even in her class.

  She quickly asked her father to stop the car, grabbed an umbrella, and ran through the rain to reach the boy.

  Chayot, who was hoping to get sick from sitting in the rain to avoid going to school, slowly lifted his head when he saw the hemline of someone’s skirt and realized the rain had suddenly stopped.

  He then realized the rain hadn’t stopped; instead, the girl in front of him had extended her umbrella to shield him from the rain.

  “Who are you?” Chayot raised his eyebrows in question. Khemika smiled and replied,

  “I’m Khemika.”

  “…”

  “And you?” Chayot looked at Khemika’s face for a while before softly replying amidst the increasingly heavy rain,

  “I’m Chayot.”

  “Oh, I actually knew your name already.” Khemika said with a laugh.

  Strange person…Even though she was getting wet because she shared her umbrella with him, she laughed with a clear, untroubled voice.

Chayot thought to himself and looked away, not saying anything.

  “Where’s your house? Can I walk you home?” Khemika blinked and asked. Chayot bit his lip, looked down, and shook his head.

  He didn’t want to go home right now because he had just had a fight with his parents.

  Khemika understood his body language but persisted, “If so, why don’t you come to my house? We have lots of snacks and toys.”

  Chayot frowned, feeling a bit insulted at the implication that he could be easily lured with snacks and toys.

  But just seeing the pleading look in her eyes, mixed with a slight shiver from the cold, was enough for him to easily agree and follow her to the car.

  Khemika’s family was kinder to strangers than he had anticipated; simply stating that Chayot was a schoolmate was enough for them to warmly welcome him.

  Khemika grew up in a well-rounded family, quite different from Chayot, who was often compared by the adults in his family to his brother, who was smarter, more composed, and always did better academically, not to mention in other aspects of life.

  However, Khemika was different from those people; she never compared Chayot to anyone else. She never forced him to be something he didn’t want to be, and she never praised Chayot’s brother in front of him.

This was why Chayot opened his heart to Khemika, eventually becoming very attached and ultimately becoming best friends.

  “Khem, when we grow up, shall we get married?” Chayot asked while they were playing house, taking on the role of a customer.

  Hearing this, Khemika smiled in response, envisioning a future where she had someone to protect and care for her. Someone who would always go along with her wishes and would stand up for her if she ever did something wrong didn’t seem like a bad idea, so she nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, if by then I haven’t found someone better than you, I’ll marry you.” Chayot laughed, pleased with her statement.

  “Then start preparing to be my bride, because there’s no one better than me in this world.”

  Chayot was confident about this until the day Khemika met his brother, Phawat, and all his dreams began to crumble.

 

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