Min sat at the foot of the almond tree on the mountaintop, staring into space. The emptiness in his chest gnawed at him, like he'd lost something precious—but he didn't know what it was. It wasn't the kind of pain that screamed for attention. It was worse: a quiet, persistent ache that clung to him like a shadow, dragging him closer to madness.
The sound of rustling bushes broke the stillness. He didn't turn to look, though his irritation spiked. Couldn't he just have one moment of peace?
The figure emerged and sat beside him. Min didn't need to look; the sharp, unmistakable scent of fish told him exactly who it was. Only one man reeked like that—his grandfather.
"Hey, kiddo," his grandfather said cheerfully, giving him a hearty pat on the back. The old man raised a gourd of wine to his lips and took a long swig. "You've been quieter than a monk in meditation lately. Maybe today's the day you'll actually talk again?"
Min didn't respond. If his grandfather expected conversation, he was going to be disappointed. Not that Min could speak even if he wanted to—he'd lost his voice on that day.
The old man wasn't deterred. In fact, he seemed to find Min's silence amusing. "Hah! Perfect! Now you can't tell me to stop talking. That means I get to tell you some legends." He grinned mischievously, patting his round belly like he'd just outsmarted the world.
Min sighed, his shoulders drooping. This was going to be a long day.
Taking another gulp of wine, his grandfather leaned back. "So, you know our ancestor Dewtria, right? The one who fell in love with a god?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Well, I never told you his name, did I? He was Lait—the god of foresight. Handsome fellow, I imagine. Pity he didn't love her back. But Dewtria, being the clever woman she was, seduced him and got herself pregnant."
Min raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at the old man.
"Surprising, right? Gods almost never have kids. But she managed it. The baby—oh, he was strange, even for a demigod. Always talking about things no one could see. Living in the future, not the past or present. People thought he was mad at first... until his predictions started coming true. That's how we got our first oracle."
Min sighed again and slouched further. There was no escaping this story, was there?
"But!" his grandfather said, raising a finger dramatically. "He disappeared one day. Poof! Gone. Of course, by then he'd already had kids. None of them inherited his gift, though, so his story faded into myth. People stopped believing he ever existed." The old man chuckled and pointed at Min. "But guess what, kiddo? Turns out his legacy didn't die. It lives on... in you."
Min didn't respond, though his chest tightened. If this was true, it wasn't something to be proud of. It was a curse—a relentless, unyielding curse.
His grandfather smirked and took another sip from his gourd. "Speaking of legacies, word around the village is that Raki's pregnant." He leaned closer, his grin widening. "Not to pry, but... you wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Min froze. His heart stumbled over itself, and warmth spread through his chest. The news brought a strange comfort, though he couldn't explain why. He closed his eyes, letting the feeling wash over him like the first rays of sunlight after a storm.
His grandfather broke the silence with a loud burp. "So, Min, tell me. What does the future hold for us?"
The nagging feeling in Min's head surged back, sharp and insistent. He stood, grabbed a stick, and bent down to write in the dirt:
"Calamity is coming, but I see a light."
---
Raki sat by the window, stitching a woolen coat while the sounds of children playing outside drifted in. She tried to focus, but Meshe and Keu's endless banter made it impossible.
"Oi, Raki!" Keu called, waving energetically. "Which boy do you prefer—Duj or Fes?"
Meshe turned to Raki, narrowing her eyes like a hawk zeroing in on prey.
Raki groaned. Picking a side was like lighting a match in a room full of explosives.
"Obviously, it's Fes," Keu declared, flipping her hair dramatically. "Duj's ugly, but Fes? Total heartthrob."
"Fes is a jerk," Meshe countered, crossing her arms.
"Only to you," Keu retorted, rolling her eyes.
"That's because you're into bullies," Meshe snapped.
"No, I'm into cute. Unlike you two, who seem to have a thing for trolls," Keu said with a pointed look at Raki.
Raki sighed, putting down her stitching. "Keu, remind me—who stole your first kiss again?"
Keu froze mid-gloat.
"If I recall," Raki continued, a sly smile forming, "he wasn't exactly a beauty."
Meshe snorted. "Five or not, that says a lot about your 'taste.'"
Keu groaned, burying her face in her hands. "That was then! This is now! Can we move on already?" She turned to Raki, her grin returning. "Speaking of taste... do you even know who the father of your baby is?"
Raki's fingers tightened on the cloth, her face unreadable.
"What if there's a monster going around giving babies?" Keu suggested, her grin widening.
Meshe's face turned pale. "What if Raki gives birth to a crab?"
"As long as it's cute," Keu chirped, unfazed.
Before Raki could retort, loud shouts erupted outside. The three girls froze.
Keu was the first to the door. She stepped outside, her eyes widening as she looked up. "You guys need to see this," she whispered.
Meshe and Raki rushed to join her, their jaws dropping as they stared at the sky.