Chris stood there, speechless, staring at the empty chair. Then he heard the patriarch call to him.

  “Are you coming? We don’t have all day.”

  “I…I’m coming.”

  He began running toward the source of the voice, but the chains made it awkward.

  “Can you at least unchain me?”

  “You are more than capable of doing it yourself.”

  ‘Is there something he doesn’t know?’

  -Ask him.-

  ‘Don’t worry, I will.’

  Without effort, he snapped the shackles around his wrists and ankles and stashed the chains in his inventory, as his ring had been confiscated when he was imprisoned. He stretched his body to ease the soreness, then continued walking. In a few seconds, he managed to catch up with the clan head.

  “Why are you helping me? Why the change of heart?”

  “I still want to have you executed, but that won’t bring my son back. I’m helping you because I gave my word that I would.”

  “What do you mean? To whom?”

  “My wife.”

  “How did she know?”

  “Her clansmen had the aptitude to attune themselves to the spirits; through them, they could see fragments of what was to come.” Baek Cheon-Do said, his hands clasped behind his back

  “Fragments?”

  “Moments.” He corrected quietly. “A blade before it falls or a fire before it is lit.”

  Chris blinked.

  “That’s… OP.”

  Cheon-Do glanced at him.

  “What does ‘OP’ mean?”

  “It means overpowered. Too strong.”

  A faint, humorless smile touched the patriarch’s lips.

  “Yes. It was.”

  They walked in silence for several steps before he continued.

  “The stronger ones could see further, years, sometimes decades.”

  “And your wife?”

  He stopped walking. For the first time since they had begun speaking of her, something in his posture shifted not weakness, but weight.

  “She was the strongest ever born into her clan. She saw her clan’s destruction when she was thirteen.”

  The corridor felt colder.

  “She described it to me once. They’ve sealed the mountain; not even the animals were spared that night.

  Chris swallowed.

  “If they knew… why didn’t they stop it?”

  “They couldn’t.”

  His answer came without hesitation.

  “Once, her clan foresaw a drought and stored grain to prevent famine. The famine never came.”

  He looked at Chris.

  “Bandits did. You cannot erase what is destined. You can only change the shape of the suffering.”

  Chris frowned.

  “That sounds like a curse.”

  “It was.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  He looked ahead, eyes distant.

  “But she never called it that.”

  “What did she call it?”

  “A burden worth carrying.”

  Silence lingered between them.

  “They erased her from their clan records when she turned fifteen, burned her name from the ancestral tablets. Destroyed every portrait. Officially, she never existed.”

  “Why?”

  “So when the massacre came, she could be safe.”

  Chris stared at him.

  “They sacrificed themselves.”

  “They chose the version of the future where she lived.”

  The words landed heavily.

  “She watched it happen twice, once in her visions. Once in reality.”

  He inhaled slowly.

  “She knew the exact moment her mother would fall.”

  The torches flickered as they walked.

  “She made me swear to help the one who returns home. Even if he was not my son.”

  There was no more talk until the clan head made a sign for Chris to stop and began fidgeting with the wall.

  “What happened?”

  “Shh! Let me concentrate. It’s been years since I came here.”

  ‘Here, where? There is just a wall.’

  -Stop it, Chris! Be patient.-

  “Found it! You might want to take a few steps back. It’s going to be dusty.”

  As he pressed down on one of the stones, the sound of cogs moving filled the tunnel. A section of the wall shifted inward, revealing a new pathway, and as he said, it was dusty. Chris began sneezing as he followed him down the hidden passage. After Chris entered, Baek Cheon-Do pulled down a lever, and the door closed behind them. They were swallowed by darkness.

  “So are we going to walk in the dark?” Chris asked.

  Baek Cheon-Do chuckled softly. With a simple flick of his hand, the torches along the passage flared to life as if awakened from a long slumber. The corridor sloped downward, the air growing colder with every step. Dust clung to Chris’s throat. After what felt like forever, they reached their destination, a chamber that hadn’t been disturbed in what seemed to be years.

  The room was filled with maps and towering stacks of open books, and in the center of it was…

  “A jewelry box? We came all the way down here just for that? I got my lungs teaming with dust for a box. You can’t be serious.”

  “Try and use that noggin of yours for a minute and feel it.”

  ‘Feel it? What does he mean?’

  -How should I know? Try to feel it.-

  Chris wanted to take a step toward it, but was stopped in his tracks by the hulking hand of Cheon-Do. When he looked up, he saw the man’s disappointed face.

  “Do they not teach you anything from wherever you come? Use your Qi.”

  “I really don’t know how. We don’t have something like this where I come from.”

  “Alright.” He took a quick breath. “Close your eyes.”

  Chris was dumbfounded. He couldn’t understand how that was going to help, but the man knew what he was doing, so he followed his advice.

  “Good. Now feel the Qi coursing through you, then push it outside. If it helps, stretch your hand toward the box. It should make it easier to guide it.”

  ‘Easy for him to say.’

  -Stop whining and do it!-

  Chris tried to feel the paths that led to his core. He barely sensed the flow of his Qi, but after a few tries, he managed to feel it moving through him.

  ‘Ok, ok, I got it. Now, how should I get it out?’

  He focused harder and tried to push the flow outward, but nothing happened. He gritted his teeth and tried again and again until he managed to guide the Qi toward his hand.

  “That’s it. Now guide it toward the box.”

  Chris inhaled sharply and imagined the Qi flowing down his arm and through his palm, forming a path toward the box. He squeezed out everything he had. Sweat formed on his forehead. When the Qi touched the box, it vanished, consumed by a void.

  He opened his eyes, sweaty and confused, and turned toward Cheon-Do.

  “What happened? I managed to guide it, but the second it touched the box, it disappeared.”

  “I never knew it could do that.”

  “Wait, what? How could you not have known?”

  “I’ll show you. Close your eyes again and focus on me.”

  Chris did as he was told. When he focused on the man, he was almost blinded, even with his eyes closed, as if he were trying to look at the sun. He had to turn away and rub his eyes.

  “You have to train your Qi sense if you want to live longer in this world. Don’t look at the whole picture. Focus on the small things. Focus on my hand.”

  Chris looked again and focused on his hand. The light dimmed, and now he could see how little Qi the man needed to use outside of his body to touch the box. His Qi enveloped the box, but nothing happened. It stayed there for some time before dissipating.

  “Your Qi still disappeared.”

  “It wasn’t absorbed.”

  “But it disappeared.”

  “I forgot you do not know this world’s ways. Look here.”

  He formed a ball of Qi in his hand that was visible even without sensing it, then flung it into the air. After a moment, it evaporated.

  “After you stop influencing it, the Qi dissipates into the air.”

  Chris scratched his head.

  “I kind of get it.”

  -You didn’t.-

  ‘Shh! He doesn’t know that.’

  -I don’t think you can fool him.-

  “You don’t have to lie. It’s normal for you to find it hard to understand.”

  -See!-

  “Ok, you got me. But how can you use those flashy techniques without them vanishing before they strike the target?”

  “The simple answer is that you don’t stop influencing it.”

  In his left hand, a ball of raw Qi emerged. In his right, another sphere formed, but this one felt different, more refined. Its shape fluctuated until it formed an arrow. Without another word, he threw both toward the wall.

  The raw Qi scattered halfway there, dissolving into nothing. The arrow struck the stone with a sharp crack and punched a small, clean hole through it.

  Cheon-Do poked Chris’s forehead.

  “Your mind shapes it. Your intent carries it until it completes its purpose, or your focus breaks, and it comes undone. You’ll learn in time, but we have to hurry.”

  “Can’t you teach me more?”

  “We are already behind the allocated time. You’ll be fine if you continue training. Now catch.”

  Taking him by surprise, the box flew toward Chris’s head, but his quick reflexes helped him catch it.

  “Now what?”

  “Now,"

  The air around Baek Cheon-Do grew heavy.

  "You’ll die.”

  “What?!”

  -What?!-

  — Unmarked grave in the dead of night —

  The full moon hung in the sky, its light pouring over two figures standing above a freshly dug grave. They cleared the remaining dirt and pried the coffin loose. The lid was lifted slowly. Inside lay a fresh corpse. It was Chris, eyes closed, and pale skin.