"Fifty bucks? You gotta be kidding me!"
He said, jaw tightening as he stared at the old guy behind the counter at the pawn shop. The place smelled like mold and old sweat, with a broken camera hanging on the wall as a reminder of all the trouble that'd already happened.
Min Jae held the necklace the main character had taken from a drunk's pocket an hour before.
"Fifty dollars. This isn't gold, it's not even real metal, it's trash. It's got a cross on it, you know, they wear those around their necks at churches, kiss the icons and everything?"
The guy glared at him
"Fifty, take it or leave it."
He grabbed the cash and stormed out with a snarl, slamming the door behind him, muttering.
"A cross in the trash, dust in my lungs and I'm still hungry, what a great evening."
The pavement was all shiny and wet from the rain, and the streetlights were reflecting off it. The city had a sultry vibe, not totally dark but kinda oppressive.
There weren't any stars in the sky, but he didn't really need them. All he could see was the faint glow from the fast food place, which he hadn't been to in a while.
He turned the corner and put the bill in his pocket, then fished a crumpled cigarette out of his jacket.
"One for fifty, or two if you wanna mix it with some water. But that still won't get me through till morning."
He took a deep drag, and his throat tightened up from the smoke. His lungs rattled, reminding him about his long-term health problem and how he should quit smoking.
"Man, I should've taken that guy in the basement. His phone was in good shape, with all the navigation and stuff still working.
He paused, his eyes caught a movement in the nearby alley near the trash cans.
"Let go!"
A woman's voice, sharp and tense, rang out.
"Oh, damn..."
He quickly ducked into the shadows and pressed himself against the wall. Three figures emerged from the light of a streetlamp.
"They're big guys, I can't take them"
One of them had a firm grip on the girl's hair, another was rummaging through her bag, and the third was holding something metallic.
"A firearm? Oh no, they have a gun."
He let out a breath through his teeth.
"This is not my place to intervene."
He took a step back, then another.
"Help me,"
She pleaded, turning her head. Her small, fearful eyes were fixed on him.
"No, I'm sorry, I cannot assist you. I am not your father or your savior."
But his legs were moving, his fists were clenched. Adrenaline surged through him. He lunged forward, a cry escaping his lips, a punch flying.
Someone shouted, someone jumped back. A gunshot echoed, but he couldn't pinpoint its source. He felt a searing sensation in his abdomen, as if something had been torn out of him in an instant.
His body collapsed to the ground, and the world fell silent. He heard his final breath, felt the coldness of his blood leaving his body.
"Why did I get into this situation in the first place?" He thought.
"For whom? For a woman I will never see again?"
He glanced down at his hand. A red mark was spreading across his shirt from where a cigarette had landed. It was still smoking on the pavement. His final thought was:
"Fifty for a cheap necklace and my life. Not a bad bargain."
Darkness closed its eyes and the world vanished.
***
"Ikai awake...!"
"Ikai Liu woke up!".
The sand burned his hands as he stretched them out, reaching for the horizon like a sea of gold. In that deserted place, time seemed to lose its meaning and the air was filled with smoke from burnt fires.
He lay on a cold rock, feeling a faint glow in his chest like a beating heart. He tried to move but his body felt strange – brittle and stiff, like a shell without a soul.
Suddenly, he noticed a group of shadowy figures in the distance. They were carrying lanterns and looked like blind travelers trying to find their way.
Ikai stood up, surrounded by broken pieces of bronze and dust. He felt his inner light growing stronger, responding to their presence.
"Who were these people? Why did their eyes seem empty?"
As he watched them go, he realized something – they were not just shadows, they were souls lost in this endless desert.
A quick thought crossed Ikai's mind before he heard a soft whisper.
"You're not alone, kid,"
The voice said. It seemed distant, but close at the same time.
The sun was watching over him, and his journey had started.
He blinked, and for a second, the desert stopped. In that second, he realized there was more to him than just being lit up. He had a power inside him that could either burn or save people.
He approached the caravan, aware that his journey had brought him into a world of shadows and sand. His gait was uncertain, like that of a creature newly emerged from the cocoon of a strange world.
The sun's rays had left a red imprint on his hair, and his eyes, black as night, reflected the harshness of the desert.
With each step, a burning sensation coursed through his chest, as if his bones were trying to break through his flesh. The dry sand crunched beneath his feet, whispering of the many bodies buried beneath it.
The caravan stood still. He waited, surrounded by five figures dressed in dull robes, their faces hidden behind thick veils. There was no doubt that they were blind, but their sightless eyes seemed keen.
One of them spoke, their voice resonating with a deep rumble, like an aged man's.
"You have come."
"I'm not sure who you are?"
Ikai replied, his voice sounding distant and cold. It had been a long time since he last spoke.
Another figure responded, her voice weak and filled with moisture.
"That doesn't matter," – she said. "Your name was whispered in the ashes before you died."
Ikai stood still.
"Do you know me?" – He asked.
She shook her head.
"No, but we know the essence within you."
He stepped back, feeling a sudden warmth in his chest. Another traveller shivered and he realized they were talking about the sun.
Then, a third person spoke up, holding a gurgling container.
"The sun has chosen," – she said softly. "We were looking for it, but we found you instead."
His chest grew cold as he listened. They talked about the sun like it was a living thing, watching them from above.
"Why did you come to me?"
He asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"To hear his voice, to bring the vessel"
"What vessel?"
"You…"
He did not respond, for words seemed to lodge in his throat, and his fingers trembled. Behind him, the sand began to stir, and he turned. There were traces, fresh, moist footprints, yet the air was heavy with oppression and death, as if no one had passed before.
"Who else was here?"
He asked little more than a whisper.
The blind men remained silent, save for a soft moan emanating from the vessel clutched in one of their hands. It was like a breath through water, a voice through the sand, a relic.
Ikai understood it not with his mind but with his very skin, deep within, where fear arises before thought. He felt that there was more to the vessel than mere remnants, an imprint of agony frozen in time.
"Do you wish me to accept this?"
"It has already occurred", The woman replied.
"Otherwise you would not have awoken."
He clenched his fists, and instead of light there was a heat in his chest. A deep, insatiable sensation pulsed in his heart like a conflagration. Ikai was not aware of how he found himself kneeling before the vessel, nor why he extended his hand towards it as if there was something familiar within.
Something that recognized him before he had the chance to recognize himself.
The vessel, charred, cracked and covered in ash, suddenly trembled, and smoke rose from its neck thick and oily. It did not smell of death, but of its memory.
"Do not touch it," Whispered one of the sightless men, "The relic within is still breathing".
But it was too late. His fingers grazed the steaming surface and the world around him faded away.
***
He stood in an empty room with bare white walls, his knees resting on the stone floor. Suddenly, a vision appeared in front of him - a girl holding a doll by the neck, looking into a corner where nothing was.
"He said I should be the door, but when I opened it, Mom left."
Ikai wanted to speak, but he couldn't move or turn around. The world around him seemed alive, and the girl's eyes were empty sockets. Everything collapsed into fire, leaving him gasping for breath.
***
He coughed, feeling sand in his lungs and his stomach turning.
"He's still alive," Ikai said with difficulty, drawing the attention of the blind men.
"You heard him."
The woman's voice trailed off as the sand behind her shifted, and a black doll emerged from the ashes with a gray aura that Ikai had never seen before.
The doll had a burned back and eyes that had been carved out with a knife.
"An unresting spirit,I thought we had managed to banish it!"
"We've dealt with this... But this child, by touching the vessel, activated the final spell. He wasn't inside the vessel, but he summoned a spirit."
And then the star in Ikai's chest whispered:
"Don't look with your eyes, but look from within."
The doll remained motionless. It simply stood, leaning forward, as if the wind was trying to knock it down, but to no avail.
The burnt fabric on the doll's body moved on its own, as if it were breathing. A black, oily substance flowed from the doll's eyes, evaporating before it reached the sand.
Ikai stood there, feeling the star fluttering in his chest. Not out of fear, but out of recognition. It was something familiar. Not to the mind, but to the ashes. Not to the memory, but to the Relic.
The doll moved again, turning its head towards Ikai. Its movements were sharp, like those of a broken creature. It looked directly at him.
Ikai felt no fear. He felt... drawn in.
As if he wasn't looking, but someone was looking through him.
The star said softly.
"Don't resist it. Look deeper."
There was no light in the doll's eyes, only darkness that seemed to engulf all the faces. The world around him became dim and blind, and the blindness returned.
Ikai found himself in a hazy vision of sand, which quickly turned into ruins, but not what they would have been in reality. The walls remained untouched. A temple of orange clay appeared in front of him, with columns rising up to it... and an altar built from the bones of children.
In this vision, Ikai beheld a doll, but it was no longer inanimate. It was now a living, bound little girl clad in white, her lips sewn shut, yet she sang. The song had no audible sound, yet Ikai felt its essence coursing through him.
He whispered.
"Why am I witnessing this?"
A celestial voice responded.
"You have become the eye, Ikai. You are not merely a spectator; you are the conduit for the imprinted."
Tears streamed down Ikai's cheeks as he attempted to avert his gaze from the horrific sight, unsure whose suffering he was experiencing.
"Am I weeping, or is it her pain?"
At that moment, Ikai heard the girl's cries of anguish. The doll, the child, and the artifact merged into a single entity. And in that instant, Ikai opened the first eye.
It was not the physical one on his forehead; it was the inner eye, radiant and fractured, akin to light reflecting from a star. The world transformed once more. Ikai lay on the sand, the doll vanished, the vessel shattered.
The footprints were everywhere, tiny and scorched, leading away from Ikai. It was as though she had vanished, leaving him behind.
The blind men remained motionless, not approaching him.
"What did you see?"
One of them asked, but Ikai remained silent.
Standing up, he adjusted to his new body, his hands trembling. His eyes were burning, but he could see more clearly than before.
There were patterns in the sand, shimmering with a faint glow. The relic had left an imprint, and he could decipher it now.