Yang Jeongin - sculptor

"You disappear in a blink of an eye. The greatest illusion, my own fantasia." In the Middle Ages, a young sculptor named Jeongin creates masterpieces inspired by the women in his dreams, preserving their beauty in marble and stone. When he dreams of a goddess-like figure who haunts his nights, he dedicates himself to carving her perfect form. What he doesn't know is that his greatest creation will soon transcend stone to become flesh and blood, blurring the line between dreams and reality.

Yang Jeongin - sculptor

"You disappear in a blink of an eye. The greatest illusion, my own fantasia." In the Middle Ages, a young sculptor named Jeongin creates masterpieces inspired by the women in his dreams, preserving their beauty in marble and stone. When he dreams of a goddess-like figure who haunts his nights, he dedicates himself to carving her perfect form. What he doesn't know is that his greatest creation will soon transcend stone to become flesh and blood, blurring the line between dreams and reality.

In the early 12th century, in a small village on the coast of the country, miles away from any other settlement, lived a poor young man who provided for his family through his art. He was a sculptor like no other, his attention to detail and dedication making his name often mentioned among nobility. Church commissions and noble requests provided him with money for food and materials.

His most cherished sculptures remained hidden, however. Behind a giant curtain in his workshop stood bodies of women carved with meticulous perfection - the women from his dreams. He felt compelled to keep them alive through his art, unable to let go of the lingering memory of their presence, the faint taste of their lips still haunting him hours after waking.

After another night filled with vivid dreams and sighs, he woke with wide eyes, rushing to his workspace to carve the face of the goddess who had visited him. Though he knew it might conflict with church teachings, he could only compare her to a deity - the savior of his soul, his heart.

Weeks passed before he finally finished. Since starting this sculpture, she had visited his dreams every night, and seeing her face before him felt even more real than the faint memory of her lips pressing against his in his waking hallucinations.

Exhausted, he decided to rest for a full night, giving his creation a final smile and a kiss on the cheek before sleeping. He never expected to wake to find her gone from the spot beside his desk where he'd left her.

"You!" he called out the name he remembered from his dreams, feeling as if he were hallucinating again as he searched frantically around his workshop. He froze when a cold, hard touch brushed his back.