Word count: approx 3,200

Be sure to read the prologue on the foreward if you haven't already.

Paris, 1793

Perched high on the Notre Dame he sat, legs dangling carelessly off of the edge of the stone. Below, the crowds wailed and cheered and their voices rose with the wind like curls of smoke. Not even the darkening sky could discourage them. The smell of rebellion was in the air; it tickled at the back of his throat. He was no stranger to revolution, that was for sure. He’d seen it many times before. The cries stayed the same—it was only the faces that changed. 

In waves they raided the building, shrieking into the oncoming night as fires crackled into life and statues were pulled down to their feet. Such beautiful statues they were, too. It seemed such a pity to watch them crumble into pebbles. He heaved a deep sigh, watching his breath rise to the patchy clouds above.

When will humanity ever learn? he pondered.

Just then, footsteps echoed behind him but he didn’t falter. Those footsteps were as familiar to him as the skin on his own hand.

“You’re becoming predictable,” came a voice. He didn’t reply.

The words grew a little louder, as though the tower’s guest had stopped at his side. They were more purred than spoken and he didn’t have to turn his head to envisage his acquaintance’s deep, hooded eyes or catlike grin.

“That waistcoat looks very becoming on you. How stylish. It seems the 18^th century has treated you well, Lu Han.”

The voice paused. Only the whistling breeze echoed in his ears while he kept his determined gaze fixed ahead.

“But perhaps…not as well as you had hoped?”

His own lips betrayed him. “I will find him,” he breathed. “I won’t stop until I do.”

The knuckles that gripped at the tower’s edge glowed white.   

“I’ve never doubted it.”

Seoul, 2013

It was 05:23 when Kim Minseok’s eyelids fluttered open.

There had been no alarm. No noise had reverberated from outside. Not a single car alarm nor flitter of bird song had echoed in the night. Everything was quiet.

It was the unmistakable feeling that someone, somewhere, was watching him that had pried his consciousness from sleep’s delicate grasp.

After unsticking his throat with a gulp of tepid water, Minseok clawed his way out of bed with limp fingers and clammy palms. The air hung heavy and stagnant and only an open window could calm the palpitations now wakening in his bones. He half-expected to peer outside to see a dark figure lurking in the shadows but not a soul stirred on the street. The slightest hint of spring wafted in the air and soothed his skin to help melt the sudden flush of anxiety away.

He shook his head, sighing to himself.

It was just a dream….just the remnants of a dream…

But no matter how many times he repeated the words in his head like a mantra, that feeling didn’t fade.

Someone, somewhere, was looking for for him.

“Double-shot espresso?”

“Yup, that’s for me.” Minseok let his hand flutter in the air to catch the waitress’ attention. “Anyway…wait, what was I saying?”

Kyungsoo massaged diligently at the soft skin of his temples, eyes closed. “Something about a dream—”

“Oh, yeah! Last night. It was the weirdest feeling…”

Outside, the sun shone brightly and sent playful beams of light onto their table through the glass. Naturally the nice weather meant Hongdae was busy and thriving with Saturday morning bargain hunters and tourists hopping between the stores and coffee shops. Minseok and Kyungsoo had perched by the window of their favourite café to practice the much-loved sport of people-watching. It was tucked between a trendy clothes outlet and a kitsch jewellery stand but onlookers barely noticed its worn, wooden sign much to Minseok’s delight; it remained a peaceful sanctuary to watch the world go by.  

On this particular Saturday, Minseok had awoken experiencing something he called a ‘dream headache’ (which Kyungsoo was 85% certain wasn’t an legitimate affliction) and spent a good part of the morning discussing all the unusual images and sensations his head had suffered the night before; vivid dreams plaguing his mind with a slide-show of what looked like a movie reel of scenes from different times, all over the world—places he’d never seen with his own eyes yet seemed oddly familiar.

He skipped the schizophrenic part. The last thing he wanted was for his friends to think he was going insane.

Kyungsoo—forever the realist—only let out a long sigh between his lips.

“You read too much, that’s your problem. Your imagination is running into haywire.”

Minseok’s cup froze on its way to his mouth. “Since when has reading too much been an issue for anyone? Ever?”

“Since now, obviously,” Kyungsoo groaned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “I’m sorry. I was up half the night crunching numbers and I think the computer screen zapped my brain. My head feels like it’s gonna explode.”

“You want some painkillers?” Minseok asked as he reached for the satchel crumpled at his feet. “I think I’ve got some somewhere…”

Kyungsoo shook his head. “I’ll be alright.”

Just then, his attention snapped to the door that flew open and two forms stepped inside from the blazing sunshine. One was tall and rather gangly, barely able to keep the top of his snapback brushing the low ceiling, and the other was shorter with hair sticking up slightly at odd angles. The former noticed Minseok and Kyungsoo by the window and waved before signalling for the other to follow. He poached a couple of chairs from a near-by empty table and sat down, straddling the seat comfortably. 

Kyungsoo raised a thick eyebrow. “Chanyeol, what’s that on your top? Is it…glowing?”

“Oh!” He chuckled with a goofy grin, pulling the sleeve of his sweater down to scrub at the glob of neon green on his chest. “We’ve been in the lab since last night messing around with the post-grads. Those guys are hilarious. Hey, you’ve met Jongdae, right?”

Kyungsoo was still intently eyeing the peculiar, and possibly radioactive, substance when Minseok answered on his behalf. “We met last week at that bioluminescence conference. You’re the experimental physicist, right? From the university?”

Jongdae nodded. “Don’t ask me why I was there. This loon dragged me along.” He poked Chanyeol in the ribs who only stared back in dismay.

“There were slides of glowing bugs as street lamps, how could anyone not find that interesting?”

“I fool around with lasers in my spare time, I don’t do bugs. Maybe that’s more of Baekhyun’s expertise. Where was he that night anyway?”

Chanyeol groaned. “On a date with that chick from the geology department. You know, the vegetarian. They went to see some environmental documentary on global extinctions or something.”

“Does she have any idea he’s in pharmaceuticals?”

“Not a clue.”

Minseok couldn’t help but laugh. Each week meant a new, enthusiastic freshman became the fixation of Byun Baekhyun’s attention. For a few days, at least, it meant the boy was no-where to be seen unless you happened to be attending a downtown pottery class or traditional dance demonstration or, by the sounds of it, an environmental documentary showing.

The things that boy does to get laid…

“I’m doing a presentation for some elementary school kids tomorrow. Gonna blow up some jelly babies. Wanna come?”

It took Minseok a few moments to realise Chanyeol was looking straight at him.

“Chanyeol, I have a job.”

“Well, yeah, but you can skip it, right?”

Minseok huffed. It wasn’t the first time friends had belittled his work at the bookstore. To them, it was merely a stop-off before he entered the real world of degrees and diplomas and apprenticeships that didn’t remotely interest him at that point in his life. He couldn’t speak for his future, of course; not yet. Until then, he was happy enough with his work and silently wished the others would stop treating him like a 16 year-old with a weekend job. 

“Maybe another time, Chan,” he replied in a low voice, sipping his coffee. He couldn’t deny Chanyeol’s disheartened pout but skipping work and a day’s pay wasn’t an option, even for the sake of torturing jelly babies.

Kyungsoo threw the last of his drink into his mouth and stood up. “I should go. I have another night ahead of me filling in graphs and losing the will to live.”

Jongdae immediately got out of his own chair. “You get the number 6 bus, don’t you? Can I join? I’m heading that way…”

With a shy smile, Kyungsoo nodded and waved goodbye to everyone while Chanyeol’s eyes thinned as he watched them walk out of the door. It took a smack on his shoulder from Minseok to stop him staring.

Minseok was half-way through a tedious stock check when a bag of sweets fell from above and into his hands.

He looked up, blinking, to the sight of a grinning giant. “What’s this for?”

Chanyeol shrugged. “I bought too many packets. If I eat any more I’ll be sick.”

Laughing harder than he should, Minseok untangled himself from the floor and politics section to settle behind the counter.

“You’re a massive kid, do you know that?” he chuckled. “How did your presentation go?”

“It was fun. The students loved it. Nearly got molten potassium chloride in one of the kid’s eyes but it was just a close call.” He casually waved off that last statement and started removing random books from the shelves only to flick a few pages and put them back in the wrong place, much to Minseok’s annoyance.

“Some guy was asking about you.”

While purposely trying to ignore the itchy fingers and lack of safety concerns his friend possessed, Minseok’s head snapped to attention. “What guy?”

“I didn’t get his name,” Chanyeol shrugged. “Tall with tanned skinned and dark bags under his eyes. Slight Chinese accent. Do you know anyone like that?”

Minseok thought for a moment but shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. Are you sure it was me he was asking about?”

“You’re the only Kim Minseok I know that works at this place. Unless there’s two of you?”

“You’re funny.” He flung a pen and it bounced off Chanyeol’s arm. “So he knew my name? That’s weird…what sort of  things did he ask you?”

“Just whether I knew you and how well I knew you and stuff. I meant to ask him why but he kind of just…disappeared. I only turned around for a second. I think the fumes had gone to my head by that point.”

“Hmm.”

It was a curious situation. What would some supposed Chinese stranger want with him? Of all things, why would someone go out of their way to crash an elementary school science presentation to interview his friend? He prayed he wasn’t in any serious trouble.

“Maybe you’ve got a secret admirer?” Chanyeol wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Maybe.” He doubted it.

Chanyeol went back to picking books up again, this time in the home economics section. “I mean, you’re cute so it wouldn’t surprise me.”

As if the cookbooks weren’t already in a complete m—…hang on…

“You think I’m cute?”

His cheeks were undeniably blushing which only made him look more like an overgrown 5 year-old. “Well-….I-…umm…”

A sly smirk pulled at the corners of Minseok’s mouth. “I think you need to go home and lie down, Chan.”

“R-right, yeah, sure.” He shoved the French desserts book he’d been holding into the nearest available space (which turned out to be with the meat-free publications—close enough, Minseok thought) and stumbled out of the aisle. “See you tomorrow!” He, unsurprisingly, managed to knock a few paperbacks off their shelves as he went.

As the door closed, a chill ran through the shop that made Minseok’s arm hair stand on end.

There were no customers and only the ticking of a clock filled the silence as the sky outside became overcast, casting the store’s interior with a hazy shadow.

And a dark figure on the other side of the street was watching.

The warm, pleasant spring had turned into a windy, rainy one before long. Minseok took to spinning on his chair lazily behind the counter while the only customers to grace their presence through the door were old women looking for 1970s knitting patterns and a haughty man with a bushy moustache in possession of a taste for Russian history. With only the familiar smell of worn paper and his latest National Geographic subscription for company, he waited out the quiet period listening to the rain fall and counting down the minutes until he could crawl back to his apartment.

His weariness was making everything cloudy. Plucking at the pair of glasses off his face and wiping the lenses on his shirt, he considered ringing Kyungsoo and maybe Chanyeol to see if they’d be free that evening. They were usually up for spending some quality time doing nothing at all productive on a week night.

Until the bell above the door chimed happily.

And something caught his eye.

A pair of round eyes appeared between the stacks…and disappeared.

Huh?

Minseok blinked a couple of times and rubbed his eyelids, quickly shoving his glasses back on his nose.

He waited.

Nothing. There was nothing.

“Oh, wonderful.  Now I’m seeing and hearing things when I’m awake,” he mumbled.

Curious if he should make a doctor’s appointment, Minseok reluctantly heaved at the box of unsorted books under the counter he’d been accidentally kicking all morning and decided that now was the time to sort them onto the shelves. Only, as soon as his head rose again, there was a stranger stood looking at him from only a metre or so away. He jumped.

It was those same eyes he’d seen only moments before and in all the ages that had already passed. They topped a perfectly-proportioned little nose and not-quite-innocent smile that could break up even the cloudiest of skies that spoke the words to change his life.

“Fancy an adventure?”

Silence.

“I-…is that a book title? Do you know the author?” Minseok stuttered.

More silence.

The smile widened. “It’s a question.”

Minseok was rather perplexed for a minute or so, unsure of how to respond.

“If you’re after adventure,  we’ve got some half-priced Robinson Crusoe translations…”

“Why are you always so difficult?” The stranger held out a hand. “Come with me.”

Minseok eyed the limb suspiciously and let his gaze flit to the clock hanging on the wall. “My shift doesn’t end for another 45 minutes. I can’t just leave.”

Plus I don’t have a clue who the hell you are or what you’ve been smoking.

“Why not? Would the world implode if you did?”

“Well…no, but—”

“Then come.”

There wasn’t time to register what was happening. The doe-eyed boy reached forward and wrapped his long fingers around Minseok’s wrist, pulling him closer across the counter. Only a short breath away in distance from each other’s faces, a mischievous smirk flashed followed by a sudden, painful tug of his abdomen that practically winded the air right out of his body. The box of books fell out of his hands.

And then the world melted away.

As soon as his feet felt solid ground, the convulsions hit. Dizzy, disorientated and experiencing pain in parts of his body he didn’t even know existed, Minseok collapsed to his knees and choked up the remnants of his lunch onto the cracked earth. Water flooded his eyes as acid burned at his throat. Nothing made sense and his head might as well have been inside a washing machine.

A soft voice sounded from behind him.

“It’s usually pretty rough the first time. You’ll get used to it.”

As a hand grazed his back, Minseok flinched and scampered away across the dusty ground. “D-don’t touch me! Don’t come any closer!”

The foreign sun was harsh and it burned at the back of his neck. Already he was sweating buckets but he doubted that was purely because of the weather. Every muscle in his body ached from a feeling completely alien to him and his hands wouldn’t stop trembling. Nausea bubbled inside his abdomen again and yet, despite all of that, he managed to take a breath for a single second and take in his surroundings.

He wasn’t in Seoul anymore.

Hell, he wasn’t even in South Korea anymore.

“Oh God…”

Where he really was, he had no clue. All he could make out for miles around was a virtually empty, flat desert terrain with the occasional fried shrubbery to crinkle in the absent breeze. Pale dust devils danced on the horizon, swirling in unison, as heat radiated in plumes from the floor. A red-tailed hawk screeched and swooped in circles overhead. The only landmark to be seen in such a desolate hell was the crumbling foundations of a ghost town, complete with the shells of broken vehicles and a chapel leaning to one side. It was all a bit too much to take in.

“I-…I t-think I’m gonna be sick…again…”

The stranger sighed. “Minseok, you’re overreacting. Just—wait, put the stick down!”

“W-where are we? Who are you? What the hell is happening?” He’d grabbed a near-by dried-out branch and held it out in the air in front of him, threateningly. They stared at each other for a long time—long enough for Minseok to start to wonder where he’d seen him before—but his chest eventually slowed and he managed to keep his voice steady.

“How do you know my name?”

“You always ask far too many questions—”

“Stop talking like that! Stop saying things like you know me! I’ve never even met you before.”

Even as he said the words, he knew they weren’t entirely true. Rather than falling off his tongue with ease, they tasted dirty like a lie and became lodged in his tightening throat. A flicker of triumph flashed across the stranger’s delicate face.

“But I do know you Kim Minseok, and you know me. Although, I’ve yet to tell you my name. I’m Lu Han.”

“Lu Han…” Minseok mouthed.

How could a name he’d never heard of set off an orchestra of bells inside his head?

He cleared his throat. “Where are we?”

The Lu Han character stepped closer, but Minseok only edged backwards to keep his distance.

“I think the more imperative question is…when.”

As though answering his features that screwed up in confusion, the remnants of a tattered, old newspaper fluttered across the pale dust and caught itself on the edge of his foot. The print was severely faded but the date of publication was clear enough to make out from a distance.

Minseok’s heart leapt into his throat.

1861.