"Today, a horse with wings will appear in the village."
Kaida blinked in confusion at Amara's sudden outburst. "Horses don't have wings, sweetheart. But it would be cool if they did."
Amara only smiled, insistent and serene. "They do. You'll see. One will come today!"
Kaida chuckled softly, brushing it off as nothing more than a child's daydream. Amara had always possessed a vivid imagination. She let it go.
Later that day, Kaida wandered to the lake, its mirror-like surface offering a moment of peace as she practiced her spells.
She immersed herself in the flow of magic, hours slipping by unnoticed. By the time she looked up, dusk had fallen, the sun long since devoured by the mountains.
I overdid it again… Daichi's probably worrying already.
She brushed the dirt from her robes, but something strange lingered in the air—like the echo of a spell never cast. A faint tingle ran across her fingers. She shook it off and headed back to Eldrida.
When she got back, she was caught by surprise: a crowd had gathered in the square—an uncommon sight for that hour. Lanterns flickered, casting anxious shadows on familiar faces.
"What happened?" Kaida asked one of the villagers.
The man looked around nervously before replying, "There was… a horse. In the middle of the village. But it had wings. Actual wings. "It had just stood there, silent… and then vanished into the sky." He hesitated. "I still don't believe it. Even though I saw it."
Kaida froze. Her daughter's words from that morning rang in her ears.
You'll see. One will come today.
A chill traced her spine.
"It… it can't be a coincidence, can it?"
***
From that day forward, Amara began to speak of things before they occurred. Small at first—rainfalls, arguments, who would visit. But it grew. Her words began to carry weight—as if reality followed her dreams.
Kaida soon realized her daughter's power wasn't just glimpses of the future—it was something more terrifying.
Amara could see diverging outcomes: multiple threads of a single moment, layered atop one another like memories from lives not yet lived. She called them 'visions'—dreams that splintered like shattered glass, each shard a glimpse of a future not yet born.
Some nights, she'd awaken in a sweat, sobbing, clinging to her mother for comfort no one could truly give.
Daichi, ever the optimist, believed Amara could learn to harness her power. That it might help the village, the people.
But Kaida knew better.
The world was not a kind place. It was a land scarred by war and ruled by ambition. Powers like Amara's did not go unnoticed. If word of her ability spread, she would be hunted—not as a girl, but as a weapon.
One night, the disagreement between Kaida and Daichi reached its boiling point.
"You're overreacting!" Daichi snapped. "It's not a curse, Kaida, it's a gift! So what if it's unpredictable now? Once she learns to control it—"
"Stop!" Kaida's voice cracked with fury. "You want to help your village more than you want to protect your own daughter? You were born in this quiet place. You've never seen the world beyond it. I have. I've seen what it does to people like her."
She took a shaky breath. "Our daughter has a power like none I've ever heard of. If the wrong people find out—do you even understand what they would do to her?"
Daichi's shoulders sagged under the weight of her words. "It's our village, Kaida. You may have not been born here but since the day you came here four years ago, you became a part of us. Everyone loves you—and they love her too. They'd never speak of it."
"And you're willing to bet her life on that?"
He fell silent.
"I have to protect her, Daichi. And if you won't help me… I'll do it alone if I must."
She stormed out, leaving Daichi behind.
From the hallway, Amara clutched the wooden beam of the doorway, small fingers trembling. She hadn't meant to listen, but their voices were loud—too loud to ignore.
She didn't understand everything, but the way they spoke—afraid, angry—made her stomach twist.It felt like they were talking about a monster.
***
Kaida, growing more fearful with each vision, began to search for a solution.
She studied, prayed, bargained with the spirits, desperate for a way to protect her child. Daichi, meanwhile, still tried to help Amara learn control—believing, always, in hope over caution.
Kaida was a lioness, fangs bared to guard what was hers. Daichi, ever the dreamer, saw only what good might come—no matter the risk.
This contrast has placed an unspeakable burden on the child.
Her mother barely spent any time with her, always buried in research. Her father, meanwhile, insisted on revisiting the visions, trying to make her control her powers, without ever seeing how it weighs on her.
*sob*
I wish Mom would spend more time with me.
I wish Dad would take me to play and travel like he used to.
I wish I didn't have this power.
I wish my parents had a normal child.
***
Eventually, Kaida discovered an ancient sealing spell—one that could suppress magical abilities. But it came at a cost. The ritual was complex and draining, demanding immense magical energy.
She hesitated for days, weighing the cost. But eventually, she knelt beside Amara... and whispered,
"Sweetheart, promise me something."
Amara tilted her head. "What is it, Mom?"
"Promise me you'll never speak of your visions. Not to anyone."
Kaida's voice cracked, just slightly.
"One day, I'll break those chains. I swear I will."
She nodded, then leaned her head against Kaida's shoulder. "I promise, Mom."
Deep down, she wanted to say something else—I'm sorry. For being like this. For being me. But the words never came.
***
"Good morning, Daichi!" Tashi's voice rang out as he passed by Daichi on his way to get food for the village feast tonight.
Daichi smiled. "So, today's the day, huh? Big shoes to fill."
Tashi squinted at him. Wait—is he talking about—?
"Who told you?"
Shit.
"Oh, you know. Heard someone mention it. Besides, we all figured it was coming."
Tashi chuckled. "Fair enough. Yes, today I become the official village chief. My father's stepping down—it's been too much for him lately."
Daichi nodded. "You've earned it. You were like a father figure to me after mine set on his own way when I was young. You always looked out for me."
Tashi's face softened. "Daichi, one day, I hope you'll succeed me. You care deeply for this place."
Daichi was caught a little off guard there.
"Haha, no worries. I'm only just getting started—won't be anytime soon! For now, keep taking care of your family."
"I will," Daichi said with a rare, quiet certainty.
***
That morning, Amara woke late, her cheeks damp with tears. Another dream. This one was different.
She saw too many outcomes—too many paths.
And in that sea of futures, one stood alone.
It was the one she had to stop—no matter the cost.