Mingma sat in the dining room, his mind a whirlpool of thoughts and questions. His brother's cryptic warnings had left him disoriented, and though he had nodded along, pretending to understand, doubt gnawed at his heart. How could he simply trust the words of someone he had only recently met? How could he take such a monumental claim at face value? And yet, here he was, seated with his siblings as the flickering glow of oil lamps cast dancing shadows on the walls.
The dinner table was laden with steaming dishes, the aroma of spices and roasted meat filling the air. His sister, ever the mediator, had prepared the meal herself, hoping to lighten the mood. But Mingma's appetite was muted. His focus lingered on his brother, Rathore, whose every movement seemed deliberate, every word chosen with precision.
"So," Rathore began, his tone calm but heavy with meaning, "have you thought about what I told you?"
Mingma hesitated, lifting a spoonful of broth to his lips before answering. "I've thought about it," he said carefully, "but it's a lot to process. You're asking me to question the very foundation of my life. That's not something I can accept overnight."
His sister, Anika, chimed in, her voice soft yet firm. "We're not asking you to accept it without question, Mingma. But you can't ignore the signs either. If the curse is real—and we believe it is—you're a vital part of breaking it."
"And why should I trust either of you?" Mingma countered, his gaze sharp. "You're strangers to me. Siblings, perhaps, but strangers nonetheless. How do I know you're not feeding me a story for your own gain?"
Rathore leaned back in his chair, unperturbed by Mingma's skepticism. "I'd be disappointed if you accepted everything blindly. Caution is wise, especially in a world as complex as ours. But the truth will reveal itself in time. For now, we need to focus on the next step: your admission to the academy."
Mingma arched an eyebrow. "The academy? And what exactly will that accomplish?"
"The academy isn't just a place for learning," Anika explained. "It's where the secrets of our world are studied and mastered. Every ancient family—ours included—possesses unique techniques and bloodline abilities. Some bloodlines are stronger than others, granting their wielders immense power and quicker progress. But there's a catch: the stronger the bloodline, the harder it is to break through the bottleneck at higher levels."
Rathore nodded, his expression grim. "Our Rathore bloodline is no exception. We're known for our ability to quickly advance to the Master level. But that's where our potential ends. The curse locks us at that stage, making it impossible to ascend further without external intervention."
Mingma's eyes narrowed. "And where do I fit into all of this?"
"You're different," Rathore said, his voice tinged with both hope and urgency. "You've survived the bounds of this world, free from the limitations imposed by our bloodline. If anyone can find a way to break through, it's you. But you'll need the academy's resources to uncover the truth and develop the strength required to challenge the curse."
Anika placed a reassuring hand on Mingma's arm. "Rathore and I have reached our limits. He's stuck at the peak of Sage, and I'm still at the intermediate stage. Even with all our efforts, we've hit a wall. But you... you have the potential to go beyond. To reach God level, where true freedom from the curse might lie."
Mingma's gaze shifted between his siblings, their earnest expressions weighing heavily on him. "So this isn't just about me," he said quietly. "It's about all of us. The entire family."
Mingma sighed, the weight of their words settling over him like a heavy cloak. He still wasn't sure he could trust them fully, but one thing was clear: if he was going to find answers—about the curse, his past, and his place in this world—the academy was the only path forward.
"Alright," he said at last, his voice steady. "I'll go to the academy. But don't expect me to blindly follow your lead. I'll find my own truth, on my own terms."
Rathore's lips curled into a faint smile. "That's all we ask."
Anika's smile was warmer, filled with relief. "We'll support you every step of the way, Mingma. You're not alone in this."
As the conversation shifted to the practicalities of his departure, Mingma couldn't help but feel a flicker of determination. The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges and mysteries. But one thing was certain: he would face it head-on, no matter what truths or lies awaited him at the end.
Mingma sat alone in his room, the soft light of dawn casting a faint glow through the window. The stillness of the morning was broken only by the occasional chirp of birds outside, yet his thoughts were far from calm. His mind oscillated between two worlds—the life he had known for 31 years on Earth and the strange, undeniable reality he now faced.
He couldn't deny the truth unfolding before him. The presence of his siblings, the peculiar power of the bloodline they shared, and the cursed mark etched onto his body were all too real to dismiss as a mere dream. Yet, how could he simply abandon the memories, the identity he had forged on Earth? The friendships, the struggles, the achievements—those weren't illusions. They were as much a part of him as the breath in his lungs.
Mingma stood and walked to the mirror, his gaze falling on the eye-shaped tattoo that seemed to pulse faintly on his forearm. It was the mark of the curse, a symbol of the burden he now carried. He traced the outline with his fingers and sighed. "This is real," he muttered to himself. "But that doesn't mean everything else was fake."
Sitting back down, he began to think through his situation, forcing himself to stay rational. He needed to survive, and to do that, he had to understand what advantages and disadvantages he possessed.
Advantages:
Bloodline Power – As a member of the Rathore family, he had access to unique abilities tied to their lineage. Though limited in scope due to the curse, these powers could provide him with a head start.
The Curse's Potential – While it restricted his bloodline from advancing beyond the Master level, there was something about the curse itself—a hidden strength that Rathore had hinted could be turned into a tool to break through their limits.
Earthly Knowledge – Decades of living in a world where science and technology reigned supreme had given Mingma a perspective different from those who had only known this realm. His understanding of strategy, innovation, and problem-solving could prove invaluable.
Disadvantages:
The Curse's Restrictions – As much as it held potential, the curse was also a shackle. It could easily overwhelm him if he wasn't careful, and he didn't yet fully understand its nature.
A Weak Body – Unlike his siblings, who had trained their entire lives in this world, Mingma's body was frail by comparison. He would need to build his strength and endurance quickly to stand a chance.
Time – The path to power wasn't a short one. He had no idea how much time he had before the curse's effects became unmanageable or before danger struck.
Mingma exhaled deeply, his determination hardening. "I can't afford to waste time. If I don't gain power quickly, I'll die. It's that simple."
He stood and walked to the window, gazing out at the distant mountains. Somewhere beyond them lay the academy, the place where he would begin his journey. But it wasn't just about survival. If he was going to face this head-on, he would do more than just scrape by. He would rise above the curse, shatter the limitations of his bloodline, and uncover the truth behind his existence.
Mingma's hand subconsciously clenched into a fist. He had already faced countless challenges on Earth. This world might be different, but he wasn't starting from scratch. He had his wits, his resolve, and the faint glimmer of hope that he could turn his disadvantages into strengths.
"First the academy," he said to himself, his voice firm. "And then, I'll rewrite the rules of this world—on my terms."
With that thought, he began to prepare for the journey ahead. There was no room for hesitation. Every second counted, and every step forward brought him closer to the answers he sought.