Semper idem

Always the same thing.

Daehyun was rather atypical for his kind. Instead of choosing to seek out immortality like most who chose his class, he instead sought to help people. Foresight was something that those like him, known fairly spitefully as diviners, knew as a dead giveaway which class they would choose. Occasionally, they are born into it, though most develop it with their studies. He was someone who, by pure chance, had been born into such ‘greatness’. No one in his recorded family history had been supernatural by any stretch, leaving him as a fluke. A mistake. Though his mother cherished her little mistake. She loved and cared for him until events drove her to taking her own life.

And Daehyun saw it all before it happened. He knew what would occur, but he didn't stop her. Perhaps because he was a child, or it could have been because he thought she deserved it. Of course not the assault that befell her. No, she deserved the wonderful respite of death. She would no longer be burdened with an awful child such as he, and finally she could be rewarded with the loving and calm embrace of death when it took her. It was his fault she died, but it needed to happen. After some time, she stopped smiling, and eventually she stopped breathing.

Daehyun knew it all.

He went to India afterwards, opting to leave his home country. He had been from the beautiful old country of England, and though it was nice it was no more spiritual than the United States. He needed somewhere with history and the ethereal past that could incite his own sleeping powers. It took him awhile to get settled in, but once the seventeen year old was done building his own dilapidated little shack, things began going smoothly.
He fell into a vicious cycle of repetition. It was the same thing each and every day. The same issues from the people in the village -- though he never had an issue helping them out -- the same trees and dirt, and worst of all, the same foresight. There was never anything new or cryptic in his dreams like there had been before. As much as he loved this country, there was no question about it; Daehyun had gotten bored.

And then he met Yongguk.

He was a curious guy. With him he brought wonder and heartbreak and something new. Something different. In a time when things were always, always the same, Yongguk’s deep profoundness was what brought change. His magic was new, beautiful and delightfully enigmatic. Daehyun watched in awe as the dead danced, newly revived, with commands from his delicate fingertips. It was illustrious and majestic and held all of the practice of an aged sorcerer. He opened Daehyun up to a world other than heartbreak and somber dreamscapes. With his careful, calloused hands Daehyun saw hardship and ill-fatedness. But mostly, he saw the hope that he longed to have.

Yongguk left in the same quiet whirlwind that he had entered in. He disappeared with nothing more than a short goodbye and a lighthearted spell. Of course, Daehyun had seen it coming. He had the preemptive vision of his inevitable departure. Yet it still stung. Things were going to return to the stale, lifeless way that they had been before and he could do nothing about it. Daehyun ached for the company, and for many years he was without it. Even the lovely companionship Rani, a chinkara with which he’d formed an unmistakable bond with, couldn’t quell his pain. He visited Yongguk every now and again, and put down the some of the rarest herbs in exchange for elaborate, beautiful tattoos to protect him from crippling solitude, but nothing truly aided him.

And then once again, foresight aided him.

In a haze of grey fog and the dark, foreboding hands of an unseen force entangled themselves around the frame of a scrawny, tall kid he’d never laid eyes upon. The book he held within his hands emanated the peculiar kind of light that held innocent neutrality. That light could become anything. A formidable servant of that fearful trepidation or a virtuous ray of hope. Whatever happened to that light would determine which side of the dichotomy that young man would choose. It was an urgent matter by all means. So, Daehyun did the only logical thing he could think of. He called Yongguk.

What a difficult man to get rid of. Neither of them owned phones, as such devices were rather old fashioned and had no use to either of them. Instead, he sent word in the form of a dream. Yongguk was privy to these sorts of communication techniques, as Daehyun was known for sending them in the most ‘invasive way possible,’ as he had said. Prophetic dreams were something he could instill into those he knew quite personally. All he had to do was take a simple mixture of herbs and spices, ingrain a simple charm into it and recite a small mantra before he could shape the muse into something wonderful, something prescient.

———

His name was Junhong.

He towered over him with a smile that was nothing but genuine. He’d been stolen from already, and all of his belongings were in the hands of somebody else he would never see again. In the bustling streets that he called home, Junhong sat concentrating -- presumably attempting to make something out of the nothing that he possessed. It was entertaining to watch him try, but he knew he had to help out. It was only natural.

“Do you need something, friend?”

The look that Junhong gave him was filled with hope. The kid had rotten luck since the moment he stepped foot on Indian soil, and it was evident just by how slumped his shoulders were. A meal was what he needed, and suddenly something Daehyun hadn’t seen beforehand sprung to his eyes. It was a future where the child that Yongguk had entrusted to him fell ill with the plague that had overtaken the streets. He’d helped with it as much as he could, but there was no way that he could cure the illness. It was just beyond his ability. He couldn’t let that happen. Not another one. With an outstretched hand and a promise of food, Daehyun led him to the only place he knew would offer the essence of India in one simplistic dish.

The men that partied there were the same as always. They dismissed their hardships and struggles with a swig from a bottle. They would rather enjoy the luxuries of their poverty than to actually focus on what impoverished them in the first place. It was a state that they would never get out of, and all because they would rather choose food and fun over freedom from debt. It was shameful.

Daehyun stayed behind after Junhong finished his meal. He didn’t believe it to be polite to rush to finish his meal, so he instead took his time and listened to the intoxicated men whistle away their throes along to the strumming of the sarod. Once everything was done and paid for, he made his way out. Junhong would follow him, as of course he’d know though it wasn’t due to the heavy, unmeasured footsteps behind him. A few times he got lost in the large, bustling throng of people and Daehyun waited for him. He stopped by one of the markets to pick up some things he needed; thyme for sore throats, rosemary for headaches, sage for protection and chives for spells. Of course he picked up other things, but only the essentials were important.

Finally, with the sun setting overhead and casting an orange glow across the market, Daehyun headed home. He walked from the busy city to the little village of which he lived on the outskirts of. He was the outlier, like he had always been.

However, as he stepped foot onto the dusty grounds of the little community, people flocked him. Aarav, a young boy whose father he’d helped just that morning came up to him first. With a messy mop of black hair and a toothless smile, he thanked Daehyun once again and took from his sand-filled pockets three silver rupee coins and handed them to him.

“It’s not a lot, but appa wants you to have it. His cold has gone away, and he thinks you might have healed him all up.”

Daehyun smiled and placed the rupees back into Aarav’s pocket. “You may keep it, my friend. You may be needing it soon.”

The child giggled and offered a quick ‘thank you’ before running off to play with his friends. Things seemed like they would work out for him and his family, and he saw a flash of Aarav’s father heading back to work the next day before Diya walked up to him with her gaggle of other women.

“Are you back so soon, Daehyun?” She gave him a wide grin. Her kurta today was red, with small white designs patterning it. The small stud in the side of her nose glinted in the tangerine light of the receding sun. “Usually you’re out until dawn.”

“Ah, I’ve got some things to take care of at home. Tell me, friend, how is your sister?”

Her joyful expression went from sullen to optimistic. “Saanvi is doing wonderful. She may need a check-in soon, but whatever you’ve done has worked. I swear, you’re like a magician or something.” She laughed and he did along with her. Most believed he had some sort of divine power to him, but what they would do in the face of the truth was unpredictable. Thus, his secret was something well kept.

“I must get going my friends,” he bowed to the crowd that had accumulated around him. “Like I said, I have some things to work on. If you do need anything, you can always come to my door. You are all welcome at any time of the day.” And with on final wave, he continued walking until he reached the curtained door of the small shack that he called his own. That was when he turned to face his follower as the first grievings of rain fell.

He had seen this all before. It would rain, and his t-shirt would soak into his skin. Junhong would mutter something, something he couldn’t particularly remember. There would be silence. The droplets that fell from the darkening sky would beat down on his tin roof, and he would respond. Everything had already played out before his eyes, yet here he was reliving it for a second time. Just as it had occurred before, it happened again.

Junhong’s hair stuck to his forehead as it was struck with water and he stared. It seemed as if he was processing the scene before him. He could barely see, as his eyes squinted and scrutinized to look at more. There was no telling what was on his mind. Finally, he made that one utterance that he Daehyun knew was coming.

“Yongguk.”

There it was. That one word that took to the air and resonated throughout both of them. A common person that linked them together and brought them to each other.

With a smile and a sigh of relief, Daehyun responded. “I knew you’d say that.”