Chapter 2 The Fateful Encounter

Yura stood frozen, eyes wide as she stared at the petite girl before her. Just a minute ago, she had been a pigeon - a simple, white pigeon that Yura had saved. And yet, here she was now, transformed into a human, a girl with long, silvery - white hair and eyes that shimmered like pink quartz under the moonlight.

Yura couldn't believe what she was seeing. She blinked rapidly, then pinched her own arm, half-expecting to wake up from a strange dream. But the sting was real, confirming that this was no illusion.

"I'm Alyssa. It's nice to meet you. Why are you looking at me like that?" Alyssa tilted her head, watching Yura with mild amusement.

The girl's clear, melodic voice broke the heavy silence in the room. But Yura still couldn't form a coherent response. Her mind reeled, struggling to make sense of what had just happened. A moment ago, this girl had been a bird.

"...How did you do that?" Yura finally whispered, her voice so soft she wasn't sure Alyssa even heard her.

Alyssa gave her a puzzled look. "Why are you so surprised? Can't you do it too?"

Yura frowned. "What are you talking about? How could I possibly do that?"

Alyssa's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. "Wait... Are you not a shape-shifting Therian?"

"A shape-shifting... what?" Yura asked, utterly lost.

Alyssa fell silent for a moment, then slowly nodded, as if confirming something to herself. "I see. So you're not one of us."

Yura's confusion deepened. She felt like she had been thrust into a story she didn't understand, a fairy tale come to life in the most bewildering way. A talking pigeon? A girl who could transform? A different world? None of this made any sense.

"Then... you're a shape-shifting therian?" Yura hesitated, glancing at Alyssa with uncertainty. "But why were you following me?"

Alyssa shrugged, looking completely at ease despite the strange circumstances. "When you healed my wing, I thought you were like me-a therian."

"Healed...?"

The memory of the injured pigeon flashed through Yura's mind. She had reached out, touched its bloodied wing so gently. And then... it had been fine. Completely healed. It had happened so quickly that she had barely processed it at the time. Could that have been her doing?

Alyssa suddenly flicked her fingers. A sharp gust of wind sliced through the air, snipping off a strand of Yura's bangs. The lock of hair drifted down into Yura's open palm. She gasped.

"You really don't have magic," Alyssa stated matter-of-factly. "You're even weaker than a Mushurtle."

Yura blinked. "A... what?"

Alyssa's lips curled into a grin. "Mushurtles are a kind of fungal creature in my world. They have mushroom caps shaped like turtle shells, and though they have four legs, they usually tuck them in and hop to move around. Their bellies glow at night. They're slow, but they're harmless and kind of cute."

A mushroom-like turtle? Yura struggled to picture it. What kind of world did Alyssa come from that such creatures existed?

"Can they shape-shift too?" she asked hesitantly.

Alyssa laughed. "No, I told you-they're weak. They belong to the Lesser Kin. Their magic is practically useless. If you ever visit my world, you'll see them using magic just to pick berries or do silly little tricks."

Yura frowned slightly, sensing a pattern. "So there's a ranking system?"

Alyssa nodded. "Therian are divided into five tiers: Lesser Kin, Greater Kin, Primordial Kin, Mythic Kin, and Ethereal Kin. Only those ranked Primordial Kin or higher can shape-shift." She paused, her tone shifting to something more prideful. "I am of the Mythic Kin."

With that, Alyssa lightly leapt into the air, her body dissolving into a swirl of glowing motes. Before Yura's eyes, she transformed - one moment, she was an elegant falcon soaring through the air, then a majestic eagle, and then, to Yura's astonishment, a bird of fire, its brilliant flames illuminating the dim room. The fiery creature flickered, shifting again into a graceful white swan that glided effortlessly before landing softly on the floor.

Yura could only stare, her breath caught in her throat. She had never seen anything like this. It was stunning. Unreal. Impossible.

Alyssa, now back in her human form, smirked. "Not only can I turn into a human, but I can become any kind of bird I want."

Yura felt her head spin. "Where... where is your world?"

Alyssa shook her head. "You can't reach it. But I might secretly take you there-on one condition: you have to tell me why you were able to use healing magic."

"I didn't," Yura insisted. "I've never used magic in my life."

Alyssa studied her carefully. "But you did. The moment you touched me, my wing healed instantly."

"I don't know anything about that," Yura murmured, her mind racing.

Alyssa fell silent. Then, after a long pause, she spoke in a more serious tone. "Only the Ethereal Kin - the highest tier of therian - possess healing magic. They hold the most powerful magic and rule over my world."

Yura's heart pounded in her chest. This was too much. Too strange. She wasn't some powerful being - she was just a normal girl. This had to be some kind of misunderstanding.

Alyssa took a slow step forward, her gaze sharp and unwavering. "How can you wield their magic?" she demanded, voice low. "Who are you?"

A sudden knock on the door made Yura jump.

"Yura, come down for dinner," her mother called from the other side.

"I'll be down in five minutes," Yura quickly replied. But as she turned back, Alyssa was gone.

The window remained shut, no sign that anyone had left. Yet, on the glass pane, a thin layer of mist had formed, and drawn into it were a few eerie words:

'I'll visit you again tomorrow night.'

The following morning, which was a quiet Sunday, Yura went together with her mother to church to pray. Beat the dust off her feet, grabbed her jacket, and head out of the house-armed and ready to face the day.

An old woman stood by the roadside, her back a little bent, her silver-white hair loosely cascading down like strands of moonlight. Her face was wrinkled like an old persons and her once-bright eyes were now wrapped in a cloud of blindness, reflecting nothing in the void. She relied heavily on a wooden cane, gingerly stepping her way forward.

But just then, a group of children, laughing and shouting, ran by. A stray dog, running after them with playful enthusiasm, accidentally knocked her cane from the old woman's hands. Blindsided, she fell onto the frigid pavement.

Immediately, Yura dashed over, grabbing the fallen cane, and slowly assisted the woman to her feet. As she held her steady, Yura saw that the woman's palm was scraped and bleeding from the fall.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" Yura asked with concern in her voice.

The elderly woman smiled through her affliction. "Such a kind-hearted child."

Yura instinctively swept the dirt from the woman's wounded hand. Instead, as soon as her fingers touched, something magical occurred - the wound vanished, like it had never been there at all.

The old woman stiffened. Yura's wrist when she gasped, a sharp breath escaping her lips. "How strange ... Why does it no longer hurt? Uh, was it you who did that, child?"

Yura withdrew her hand, confused. "I... I didn't do anything. It just... healed on its own."

Her mind went back to what had happened the night before. The wounded pigeon - the girl called Alyssa - the miraculous healing. A creeping dread settled into her chest.

The old woman reached out again, her fingers skimming Yura's palm as if searching for something invisible. "How strange ... You bear an unusual bloodline, child. There is something divine within you."

A shiver went down Yura's back. "What do you mean?"

The old woman's brows drew together, and her face fell. "A great destiny lies before you. But truly, how tragic. How very tragic. I never thought this would happen to you."

Destiny? Fate? Yura swallowed. The woman's words sent chills through her. Was she some kind of seer? A fortune teller?

"What... what's happened to me?" Yura hesitated.

The old woman's lips parted, her voice low, almost a whisper. "A curse."

Yura froze. "A... curse?"

The woman gave a slow nod. "But no matter how much you try to run from it, you cannot escape your destiny."

Before Yura could press further, a firm hand clasped her wrist.

Her mother.

"I'm sorry," her mother interrupted, her tone uncharacteristically sharp. "We need to go."

Yura had never seen her mother act so abruptly, so... forcefully. Why did she have to do that? As she was pulled away, she noticed the faint tremor in her mother's grip - was she anxious? Was she hiding something?

Yura turned back one last time.

The old woman stood there, motionless, watching her from afar, as if she were not blind at all. Her gaze was unreadable - was it pity? Concern? Or something entirely different?