Thursday morning at the apartment.
The old man in the center of the floor.
Han-Ho near the wall reviewing the Thursday route and the afternoon ley line assessment schedule.
Min-Seo on the middle couch section with coffee.
Moru on the left corner.
Kjor on the right corner with chips.
River by the kettle.
Aria had come back from the Seocho apartment at seven AM because Baek Suri had shown her the escalators at six AM and after that the day had started too well to slow down.
She sat on the floor near the door.
The sword at her hip.
Glowing softly.
The old man looked at the sword.
The sword looked at the old man.
Not in the same way it had looked at Moru.
Different.
The sword went still.
Not inactive.
Still in the way of something that is paying very careful attention to something it has not encountered before.
The old man looked at the sword with the calm assessment of ten thousand years of reading energy.
"Three thousand years," said the old man.
"Yes," said Aria, translating the sword's glow quality.
"Forged by the gods of Solenne."
"Yes."
"To guide the chosen hero toward what matters."
"Yes."
The old man was quiet.
"In my world," said the old man. "We do not have prophecy swords. We have the Dragon Veins. The qi flows. The qi tells us things if we are refined enough to listen." He looked at the sword. "Your sword is the same principle. A channel. For intent that is too large to speak directly."
The sword glowed.
"Yes," said Aria. "I think that is exactly right."
The old man nodded.
Made no further comment.
This was the old man's highest form of acknowledgement.
Aria did not know this yet.
Moru, from the couch, said: "He nodded. That is significant."
Aria looked at Moru.
"He does not nod often," said Moru.
"How often," said Aria.
"I have been here seven weeks," said Moru. "He has nodded four times."
"What were the other three."
"Once when Han-Ho explained the Dragon Vein cleaning approach. Once when Ms. Yoon showed him the comparative maps. Once when Jin Tae-Yang's soup arrived on the second Saturday." Moru paused. "And now you."
Aria looked at the old man.
The old man was drinking his tea.
"The sword," said Aria to the old man carefully.
"Yes," said the old man.
"It glowed at you differently than at others."
"Yes," said the old man.
"What does that mean."
The old man was quiet for a moment.
"It means," said the old man, "that the sword recognized something it has not encountered before. A practitioner old enough to have felt the ley lines and the Dragon Veins simultaneously. The sword was designed to read magical energy. In three thousand years of the fantasy world it has only read ley lines. I have ten thousand years of Dragon Vein refinement." He drank his tea. "It did not know what to do with me."
The sword glowed in a way that Aria translated as: correct and slightly embarrassed.
"It admits it," said Aria.
"Good," said the old man. "Honesty is important in a weapon."
Wei Junhao arrived from the Gangnam apartment at eight AM.
He had been coming to the Mapo apartment every morning for training guidance from the old man.
The old man gave guidance for approximately forty minutes.
The guidance consisted of the old man sitting in the center of the floor and Wei Junhao doing forms while the old man occasionally said: again. Or: slower. Or: you are thinking about the next movement instead of this one.
Wei Junhao had never had more precise guidance in four years of discipleship.
He came in.
Saw Aria.
"You are the fantasy world person," said Wei Junhao.
"You are the martial world person," said Aria.
They looked at each other.
Two young people from two different worlds who had both ended up in a basement apartment in Mapo-gu.
"How long have you been here," said Aria.
"Seven weeks," said Wei Junhao.
"What is it like."
Wei Junhao thought about this.
"The honey butter chips," said Wei Junhao. "Are extraordinary."
"I know," said Aria.
"And the escalators."
"Baek Suri showed me this morning."
"How many times did you ride it."
"Eleven," said Aria.
Wei Junhao looked at her.
"I rode it fourteen," said Wei Junhao.
"That is more," said Aria.
"Yes," said Wei Junhao. "I went back three times."
"I did not go back," said Aria.
Wei Junhao looked at the door.
"The station is ten minutes from here," said Wei Junhao.
Aria looked at the door.
Looked at the sword.
The sword glowed slightly.
Not toward the door.
Toward Han-Ho.
"After training," said Aria.
"Yes," said Wei Junhao. "After training."
Hwang Chulsoo arrived at eight thirty.
Not from the Gangnam apartment.
He had been up since five AM doing his Iron Blood Sect training on the rooftop of the Gangnam building because the rooftop had good sight lines and Yoo Chae-Won had said he could use it for training as long as he did not break anything.
He had not broken anything.
He had assessed every sight line.
He came to the Mapo apartment because Thursday mornings at the Mapo apartment had become part of his routine the way everything in this world had become part of his routine. Not because anyone asked him to come. Because coming was correct.
He came in.
Looked at Aria.
Aria looked at him.
The sword at Aria's hip looked at Hwang Chulsoo.
Hwang Chulsoo looked at the sword.
"Iron Blood Sect," said the sword through Aria.
Hwang Chulsoo looked at Aria.
"It knows my sect," said Hwang Chulsoo.
"It reads energy quality," said Aria. "The qi hardening signature. It identified the technique."
Hwang Chulsoo looked at the sword.
"The technique was cleaned recently," said the sword through Aria.
"Yes," said Hwang Chulsoo. "By Han-Ho."
The sword glowed at Han-Ho.
Who was reading the Thursday route schedule and had not looked up.
"He is always doing that," said Hwang Chulsoo.
"Reading," said Aria.
"Making notes. Filing reports. Planning the route." Hwang Chulsoo sat near the window. "In my world the powerful ones perform their power. They make their presence known. They demonstrate their position." He looked at Han-Ho. "He is the most powerful person I have encountered in thirty years of martial arts. He is making notes about the Thursday route."
Aria looked at Han-Ho.
At the notebook.
At the route schedule.
At the complete focused ordinariness of it.
"In my world," said Aria. "The chosen hero is supposed to be recognizable. Bearing. Presence. The weight of destiny." She looked at the sword. "The sword pointed at him for three months. I expected—"
"Something larger," said Hwang Chulsoo.
"Yes."
"I also expected something larger," said Hwang Chulsoo. "I came through a Gate accidentally and he told me to step slightly to the left because I was standing on the residue." He paused. "He was correct. I was standing on the residue."
Aria looked at her shoes.
At the floor she was sitting on.
"Am I standing on anything I should not be," said Aria.
"No," said Han-Ho, without looking up.
"You knew I was asking."
"You looked at your feet," said Han-Ho. "The floor is clean. You are fine."
Aria looked at the floor.
At the clean floor of the cleanest place she had ever been.
"How often do you clean it," said Aria.
"Daily," said Han-Ho.
"The whole apartment."
"Yes."
"Every day."
"Yes."
"In addition to the route."
"Yes."
Aria looked at the sword.
The sword glowed.
Not significantly.
Just warmly.
The glow of something that has finally arrived somewhere that makes sense.
At nine AM Han-Ho put the notebook away.
Stood up.
"Route," said Han-Ho.
Moru floated to his left shoulder.
Kjor floated to his right shoulder.
River went into the bag pocket.
Min-Seo stood up from the couch.
Aria stood up.
Han-Ho looked at her.
"You are coming," said Han-Ho.
"Yes," said Aria.
"The route is not combat," said Han-Ho.
"I know," said Aria.
"It is cleaning."
"I know."
"The sword will glow at things," said Han-Ho. "If it glows at contamination I want to know. Immediately. Not after the fact. Immediately."
Aria looked at the sword.
"It will glow immediately," said Aria.
"Good," said Han-Ho. "That is useful. The contamination monitoring has been improving since the Dragon Vein activation but there are still accumulation points the standard scan equipment misses."
"The sword misses nothing," said Aria.
"I know," said Han-Ho. "That is why I am bringing you."
Aria looked at him.
At the specific complete practicality of it.
She had followed a three thousand year old prophecy sword across kingdoms and a dimensional Gate to find the greatest threat to darkness.
The greatest threat to darkness had said: your sword misses nothing, that is why I am bringing you.
For the route.
The Thursday route.
She picked up her bag.
The sword glowed.
Warmly.
Correctly.
They went.