One winter, Song Rui fell ill. As the season when on her weakened heart could not recover and she passed away as the seasons changed.
Overcome with grief, Tan Suk died in his sleep that same night.
A letter found among his belongings revealed the deep love shared between Song Rui and Tan Suk, stunning the villagers, who turned on Song Ran for coming between two of the most beloved people in the village. She became an outcast, hated by everyone and confined to her family's house.
The villager's built a memorial to Song Rui and Tan Suk in the center of the village, visible from the window of Song Ran's room, and even Song Rohan and his wife visited it regularly.
Song Ran fell in love again several years later, with Tan Suk's friend with whom she once had the affair, but ashamed of his behavior, he refused to have anything else to do with her. Song Ran threatened to kill herself if he didn't marry her, but he left to track down a group of bandits and was killed during the fight.
Song Ran, unaware of his fate, drank poison to make herself ill and gain his sympathy, but took the wrong dose and died.
Shaken by the fates of two of his daughters, Song Rohan married the rest of them out of the village. Eventually, even his wife left to live with one of their other daughters, unable to stand the memory of Rui and Ran, while Song Rohan and his sons led the village.
It was one of Song Rohan's sons who saw them first. Pale figures that would meet under the plum trees that filled the small orchard at the edge of the village.
A man and a woman who were only visible in the moonlight, who faded in and out of sight and whom the world could be seen through when you got close enough. Lovers that attempted to meet in secret found themselves face to face with a crying woman or a somber soldier. Children swore they heard the mournful notes of a harp in the evening.
The family who occupied the house after the Song's told stories of angry whispers in the darkness, of a vengeful woman that sabotaged wedding nights and scared children. No family managed to live in the house for more than a few years after the Song's and it eventually fell into disrepair.
Tending the orchard became a rite of passage for young adults looking for love and they would often leave love notes in the knots of trees and then find them gone the next day.
"Over the years, as Tira-Lian's period of greatness faded and more villages and outposts were built along the prairie, stories of the Lady and the Soldier among the plum trees spread and brought visitors from across the rock. Even some of the tribes who traded with the villages in the winter claimed they'd spotted them among the blossoms." Patrick's voice lowered. "Meanwhile, fewer and fewer people who ventured into the old Song house ever came back out again. They say you can still hear Song Ran screaming for someone to love her late at night."
While everyone else looked a bit disturbed, Eirian stared at him and asked. "That's it?"
Patrick sputtered. "It? It's the oldest ghost story on the prairie."
"It's not even scary."
"Yes, it is! Didn't you hear, no one comes back out of the Song house."
Eirian didn't look convinced. "There could be a lot of reasons for that. Why are the tribes scared of that?"
"Most of the tribes believe it's bad luck to betray a lover." Chenzhou explained. "They have a very particle system with the exception of marriages. Almost all marriages are decided by the women of the family and breaking apart a relationship is punished pretty severely. It's not uncommon to have someone exiled or executed for it. As far as the tribes are concerned, Song Ran brought a curse down on all of Tira-Lian."
"But she didn't know?" Eirian pointed out.
"According to the story. Most people actually think she did now. Other versions have her more actively plotting to get between them." Emmy added.
"My mother always told the one where Song Ran poisoned Song Rui and tricked Tan Suk into marriage while she was too ill to warn him." Anna sipped her tea.
"That's a better story at least." Eirian muttered.
"Either way, the orchard used to be celebrated as a meeting place for lovers, but after a while the whole village became a symbol of bad luck." Chenzhou recalled. "It started to decline as the trade routes shifted, and people attributed a lot of that decline to the curse."
"That makes no sense." People were so illogical sometimes, Eirian thought.
"The people of the prairie are very superstitious." Yuze explained.
"So are soldiers." Chenzhou added and Captain Li, Lady Yang and Lord Yin nodded enthusiastically in agreement.
"There were several murders and suicides in that period as well, all of which were a result of love lost." Lord Zhao put in and everyone turned to him in surprise. "Several women hung themselves in the orchard after the men they wanted chose someone else and a few men jumped from the towers or ran themselves through with their swords. There were even fatal duels over a woman on a couple of occasions."
"So, it's the village where love went to die?" Eirian scoffed. "People make terrible choices when they only listen to their heart."
"They make terrible choices when they only listen to their heads." Chenzhou argued, brow furrowed.
Eirian made a face, scrunched nose and twisted lips. "You're a romantic, then?"
Chenzhou scoffed. "Hardly." But there was a faint blush over the tops of his cheeks.
Eirian turned to Anna and demanded an answer. "Romantic or not?"
Anna flushed, but a small smile made its way across her face. "Romantic." Chenzhou's look of betrayal made her smile wider as Eirian laughed and she reached over and squeezed his hand. More affectionate than she usually was in public, but it seemed Eirian truly didn't mind.
~ tbc