Chapter 1
The Cave
Deep in a remote cave in Kiso Mountains Li explores as his wife Sun-jin pregnant with his son in a village miles below With rice farms surrounded by Japanese cherry blossom trees The sun rises The crisp fresh mountain air bring a breeze with a soft fragrance floating Li thinks of Sun-jin stirring in thier bed as he discover a cave hidden away in the Mountain How her voice was a gentle song He smiles softly as he think of her singing to their child in her womb soon to below takes a step forward not noticing a faint ripple in front of him steps in and in an instant everything fades to black as he faints And waking up to a distant time
The scent of cherry blossoms, so faint moments ago, was utterly gone. In its place was a thick, cloying perfume, heavy with the scent of decay and something acrid, like burnt sugar. Li’s head throbbed, a dull, insistent beat against his skull. He tried to move, but his limbs felt leaden, unresponsive. Where was the crisp mountain air? Where was the gentle breeze that carried the promise of spring?
He forced his eyes open, blinking against a light that was too dim, too yellow. He wasn’t in the cave anymore. The rough, cool stone had been replaced by a floor that felt strangely yielding, covered in a coarse, woven matting. The walls were not rock, but a patchwork of mud and straw, darkened by age and smoke. Strange, guttural sounds echoed from somewhere beyond his immediate sight, a cacophony of unfamiliar voices and the bleating of animals.
Panic, cold and sharp, began to prickle at him. He remembered the cave, the sudden ripple, the overwhelming darkness. Sun-jin. His heart lurched. Was she safe? Had he left her alone? The thought of her, so close to bringing their child into the world, spurred him to action. He pushed himself up, his muscles protesting with a deep ache.
He was in a small, enclosed space, a hut of some kind. A fire smoldered in a central hearth, casting dancing shadows that distorted the already strange surroundings. Crude tools lay scattered about – a sharpened bone, a roughly hewn wooden bowl, a bundle of dried herbs tied with sinew. Nothing he recognized.
He stumbled towards the opening of the hut, a gap in the wall covered by a flap of animal hide. Pushing it aside, he stepped out into a world that stole his breath. It was not the Kiso Mountains. The familiar, verdant slopes were replaced by a vast, dusty plain, dotted with scrubby bushes and strange, stunted trees. The sky was a bruised, sickly yellow, and the sun, a pale disc, offered little warmth.
In the distance, a cluster of huts, similar to the one he had emerged from, huddled together. Figures moved amongst them, clad in animal skins and roughspun cloth. They were unlike any people he had ever seen. Their faces were weathered and gaunt, their movements slow and deliberate, as if burdened by an unseen weight.
A wave of dizziness washed over him. He leaned against the rough wall of the hut, his breath coming in ragged gasps. This was not his time. The ripple in the cave… it had not been a trick of the light, nor a hallucination born of mountain air. He had stepped through something. Something that had thrown him across the chasm of years.
He thought of Sun-jin again, her gentle smile, the curve of her belly. A profound ache settled in his chest, a longing so sharp it felt like a physical wound. How far had he been thrown? Was there any way back? He closed his eyes, the alien landscape blurring behind his eyelids, and tried to conjure the image of their village, the vibrant green of the rice paddies, the delicate pink of the cherry blossoms. But the image was fading, pushed aside by the stark, unforgiving reality of this new, desolate world. He was Li, a man from a time of peace and burgeoning life, lost in a place that felt as ancient and barren as the dust beneath his feet.