"Come on, we're going to be late!"
Arthur barely had time to turn before Se-ah caught his sleeve and pulled him into the crowd.
He stumbled after her for a step, steadied himself, and looked down at the hand wrapped around his jacket. Se-ah didn't seem particularly interested in whether he was ready. She was already looking ahead, her eyes moving from one stall to another beneath the strings of lanterns stretched across the street.
"You know I can walk by myself, right?"
"Then walk faster."
"I was walking."
"You were walking like you had nowhere to be."
"I don't."
Se-ah glanced back at him.
"We're going somewhere."
"You're going somewhere."
She grinned.
"Same thing."
Arthur shook his head and let her pull him along.
The festival was crowded enough that moving in a straight line was almost impossible. People drifted between stalls carrying plates of food, children ran through gaps that adults could barely fit through, and somewhere farther down the street a group of musicians had started playing something loud enough to compete with the vendors shouting over one another.
Se-ah seemed to enjoy all of it.
Every few seconds, something caught her attention. A stall selling painted masks. A man balancing three cups on a stick. A tray of sweets covered in powdered sugar. A little girl holding a glowing toy that changed colours whenever she shook it.
Arthur watched Se-ah's head turn from one thing to another.
"You're going to get distracted."
"I can do two things at once."
"Looking at everything isn't doing two things."
She stopped walking.
Arthur almost walked into her again.
She turned around with a wounded expression.
"Why are you always criticizing me?"
"I'm not."
"You are."
"You asked."
"I didn't."
Arthur looked at her.
Se-ah smiled.
"Come on."
She caught his sleeve again.
Arthur sighed, but followed.
A few minutes later, she finally stopped in front of a narrow stall tucked between two brightly decorated booths.
Arthur looked up.
The place was almost hidden beneath dark fabric. A few warm lamps hung around the entrance, but there were no signs, no music, and no vendor calling people over. Compared to the rest of the festival, it looked almost abandoned.
Se-ah pointed at it.
"This one."
Arthur stared.
"This?"
"Yes."
"You brought me here?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it's a shaman."
Arthur looked at her.
Se-ah smiled as if she'd just delivered the most convincing argument in the world.
"You know I don't believe in that."
"I know."
"And yet you dragged me here."
"Yes."
Arthur considered this.
"You could've just gone yourself."
"I could have."
"Then why didn't you?"
She shrugged.
"Because I wanted you to come."
That answer was simple enough that Arthur didn't have anything to argue with.
He looked at the stall again.
"Fine."
Se-ah's smile widened.
"I knew you'd agree."
"I didn't say I believed in it."
"I know."
She stepped inside.
Arthur followed.
The noise of the festival faded almost immediately.
It was still there, of course, but the thick fabric walls turned the distant music and voices into a low murmur. The air smelled faintly of incense and dried flowers. A single lamp hung above a low wooden table, leaving most of the corners in shadow.
An elderly woman sat behind the table.
Her silver hair was tied loosely behind her head, and she wore traditional clothing that looked old without seeming neglected. Several objects had been arranged in front of her: small containers, a deck of cards, a shallow bowl filled with dark liquid, and a blue crystal resting on a piece of black cloth.
She looked up.
Her eyes moved to Se-ah.
Then to Arthur.
They stayed there.
Arthur noticed.
The woman smiled.
"Welcome."
Se-ah stepped forward.
"Are you the shaman?"
"That depends on what you came here for."
"The future."
The woman's smile deepened.
"That's quite a thing to ask for."
Se-ah nodded seriously.
Arthur sat down beside her.
"You're really doing this."
Se-ah whispered, "You don't have to sound so disappointed."
"I'm not disappointed."
"You sound disappointed."
"I sound normal."
"You never sound normal."
Arthur looked at her.
She smiled innocently.
The old woman laughed under her breath.
"You two are siblings?"
"She's my sister."
"Older brother," Se-ah added.
Arthur glanced at her.
"I know."
"I was clarifying."
"For who?"
"For her."
The old woman smiled.
"I see."
Se-ah leaned toward the table.
"So, can you actually see the future?"
The woman folded her hands.
"Sometimes."
"Sometimes?"
"Sometimes the future is easier to see than the person asking about it."
Se-ah blinked.
Arthur said nothing.
The old woman continued.
"Fate is inevitable. People spend their lives trying to escape it, but running from something doesn't always mean you have changed where it leads."
Arthur rested his arm against the chair.
That sounded like the sort of thing that could mean anything.
The woman's eyes moved toward him again.
"But sometimes," she added, "someone arrives who doesn't fit very neatly into what was expected."
Arthur looked at her.
For the first time, the woman's smile disappeared.
Not completely.
Just enough.
Arthur waited.
She looked away.
"Let's begin with your sister."
Se-ah brightened immediately.
Arthur glanced at her.
She was already sitting straighter.
"See?"
"See what?"
"I told you this would be fun."
"You haven't done anything yet."
"I'm about to."
The woman reached beneath the table and brought out the blue crystal.
She placed it in front of Se-ah.
"Hold your hand above it."
Se-ah did as she was told.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
She looked at Arthur.
He gave a small shrug.
Then the crystal changed.
Blue faded into black from the center outward until the entire thing had darkened. Tiny white points remained scattered across the surface, faint enough to resemble stars seen through a cloudy night.
Se-ah's smile disappeared.
"Is that normal?"
The woman didn't answer immediately.
She looked at the crystal for a long moment.
"Your far future is bright."
Se-ah's face lit up.
"Really?"
"Very bright."
"See?"
Arthur looked at her.
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking it."
"I wasn't."
She smiled.
The woman continued.
"But your near future isn't."
Se-ah's smile faded again.
"Oh."
"There is something you are bound to lose."
The words were quiet.
Se-ah looked down at the crystal.
"What?"
The woman shook her head.
"Some things are better faced when they arrive."
"That sounds bad."
"It doesn't have to be."
Se-ah looked uncertain.
Arthur glanced at her.
She noticed.
"I'm okay," she said.
"I didn't ask."
"You were looking at me."
"I have eyes."
She smiled faintly.
The old woman watched the exchange before speaking again.
"Fate is not always as fixed as people believe. If you work for something, you may still change where it leads."
Se-ah looked back at her.
"So I can change it?"
"You can try."
That seemed to satisfy her.
"Okay."
The woman smiled.
"And you can call me Granny."
Se-ah's expression brightened.
"Okay, Granny."
Arthur looked between them.
"You've known her for five minutes."
"She's nice."
"You don't know that."
"She gave me good news."
"She also gave you bad news."
Se-ah thought about that.
"She's still nice."
Granny laughed.
Arthur shook his head.
"Your turn," Granny said.
Arthur reached toward the crystal.
"That won't work for you."
His hand stopped.
He looked at her.
"Why?"
The old woman gave him a small smile.
"It simply won't."
Arthur glanced at the crystal, then withdrew his hand.
"Fine."
Granny reached beside her chair and pulled out a small stack of white cards.
"Five cards."
She placed them on the table.
Arthur looked at them.
"They're blank."
"For now."
Se-ah leaned closer.
"Pick five."
"I know."
"You're taking too long."
"I've been looking at them for two seconds."
"Three."
Arthur looked at her.
She smiled.
He drew five cards and placed them on the table.
Granny gathered them into a neat stack.
"Once you choose them, the choice is final."
Arthur glanced at her.
"Even if I pick again?"
"The same cards will find their way back to you."
"That sounds convenient."
"Perhaps."
Arthur leaned back.
Granny turned over the first card.
The blank surface changed.
A massive fracture stretched across the sky, jagged and uneven, as if something had torn the heavens apart. Beyond the opening was a deep crimson glow.
Arthur's gaze stayed on it.
"A terrible calamity awaits you," Granny said.
Her voice had lost its lightness.
"Not only you. Those who stand beside you will be caught within it as well."
Arthur looked at the card again.
"A threat beyond anything you have encountered before."
Se-ah shifted beside him.
"That sounds serious."
"Maybe."
She looked at him.
"Maybe?"
Arthur glanced at her.
"What would you prefer?"
"I don't know. Something more concerned."
"Would that make the calamity smaller?"
"No."
"Then there isn't much point."
Se-ah stared at him for a moment.
Then she sighed.
"You're impossible."
Granny's lips curved slightly.
She turned over the second card.
A crowd appeared.
Dozens of people stood behind a single figure, following the person at the front.
"You will be given a choice," Granny said. "You may lead the companions who gather around you, or abandon them for your own survival."
Arthur studied the image.
"And what do I choose?"
"You lead them."
"Why?"
The old woman looked at him.
"Because that is how you are."
Arthur looked back at the card.
He didn't answer.
Se-ah nudged his arm.
"You're going to become some kind of leader?"
"Apparently."
"You don't even like people."
"I like you."
She blinked.
Arthur looked at the card.
Se-ah stared at him for a second longer before smiling.
"Okay."
Granny's expression softened.
Then she turned over the third card.
A group of people stood together.
They were all different.
Different clothes. Different appearances. Different colours surrounding them.
But they stood side by side.
Arthur looked at the picture.
"So... I'm not a racist?"
Se-ah burst out laughing.
Granny covered a smile with one hand.
Arthur waited.
When Se-ah finally managed to breathe again, she wiped at the corner of her eye.
"You're terrible."
"You're the one who brought me here."
"That doesn't make you less terrible."
Arthur looked at the card again.
Maybe the people represented different backgrounds.
Different places.
Different lives.
He tilted his head slightly.
"So I become a politician."
That made Se-ah laugh again.
Arthur waited for her to stop.
Granny didn't.
She simply looked amused.
"Next."
"You really want to know all of them?"
"I picked five."
"Fair enough."
Granny turned over the fourth card.
The laughter stopped.
A man stood beneath a bright sky, lifting a little girl into the air.
The girl was smiling.
Arthur stared at the image.
Granny looked at him.
"You will have a daughter."
Arthur blinked once.
"A daughter?"
"Yes."
He looked at the card again.
"That's specific."
"It is."
Se-ah leaned closer.
"Are you going to have kids?"
Arthur didn't answer immediately.
He looked at the little girl again.
Finding someone willing to spend the rest of their life with him seemed difficult enough. Getting as far as having a daughter sounded like something that belonged to a much later version of his life.
If that version existed at all.
His eyes drifted toward Se-ah.
Then toward the phone in his pocket.
He pulled it out.
Checked the screen.
Nothing.
He put it away.
"Nah. I'm good."
Se-ah stared at him.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"You checked your phone."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Arthur looked at her.
"I felt like it."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're weird."
"So I've been told."
Granny's eyes rested on him for a moment.
Arthur noticed.
He turned toward her.
"Next."
The old woman smiled faintly.
Then she placed her hand over the fifth card.
Something about the movement made Arthur sit a little straighter.
The first card could mean almost anything.
The second was vague enough to fit a dozen different futures.
The third was even broader.
The fourth was strange, but not impossible.
He could dismiss all of them.
Maybe.
The cards, however, had been blank when he picked them.
He had seen them.
He had seen Granny's hands.
There had been no writing. No ink. No movement beneath the table.
Nothing.
Arthur's eyes settled on the fifth card.
Granny didn't turn it over.
She simply looked at him.
For the first time since they had entered the stall, she wasn't smiling.
"Perhaps," she said quietly, "this one is better left unseen."
Se-ah frowned.
"What?"
Arthur's gaze remained fixed on the card.
"Why?"
Granny's fingers tightened slightly around its edge.
"Because once you see something, you cannot always pretend you haven't."
Arthur stared at her.
That was the first thing she'd said all evening that sounded less like a prophecy and more like a warning.
"Show me."
Se-ah looked at him.
"Arthur—"
He didn't look away from the card.
"Show me."
Granny held his gaze for several seconds.
Then, slowly, she turned the card over.
Arthur saw the first fragment of the image.
His expression changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
And for once, he didn't have a joke.
End of Chapter 1.