Fragments of the Sorcery World (1): Eye Doctor or Psychiatrist?
Should I go to the ophthalmologist? Or the psychiatrist?
A translucent window had been floating smack in the middle of my vision for over ten minutes now.
The text floated aimlessly in the air, scrolling upward endlessly. At first, I thought it was a hallucination. But even after rubbing my eyes, it stubbornly followed my gaze.
"Hey."
I couldn't take it anymore and asked the guy standing next to me.
"Do you normally see stuff like this when you come for the entrance exam?"
"What?"
"Like text scrolling by in a chat window right in front of your eyes. Figured it might be some passive skill or something."
The guy gave me a once-over and turned away.
"If you're gonna talk nonsense, do it over there."
From his reaction, he clearly thought I was nuts. So this was really only visible to me.
The chat seemed to scroll at double speed now. I rubbed my dry face and tried to piece things together.
Two days ago, an envelope in my mailbox.
Cheongram Jujul Academy Entrance Guide
(Editor's Note: Cheongram Jujul directly translates to Azure Sorcery however the word Cheongram also refers to a famous korean idiom called Cheongchul-eoram 'Blue comes from indigo but is bluer than indigo' symbolizing a student surpassing their master.)
The contents were straightforward. I'd been selected as a prospective student—show up at the designated date and location. Honestly, I thought it was a prank. Sure, I had a habit of doing things others avoided. Haunted house exploring was my hobby; I'd poked around every creepy spot in the country. Last summer, I even burned incense alone at Fox Pass at 3 a.m. and cooked ramen. I just liked that chill thrill. The eerie vibe that freaked everyone else out gave me a weird buzz.
So I figured this invitation was a hidden camera stunt by friends who knew about my quirks. Curiosity got the better of me—let's see how far they'd take it—so I headed to Gwanak Mountain as instructed.
Then, snap—my consciousness cut out.
When I opened my eyes again, I was here. Thought maybe I'd been clocked, so I checked the back of my head—no lump. Looking around, I was on a sheer cliff. Dense forest behind, sheer drop ahead. Dozens of kids my age milled about, murmuring. Too big for a kidnapping, too real for a prank.
"Attention."
A man appeared on a platform at the cliff's edge. Dressed in casual robes, he boomed without a mic.
"Welcome to Cheongram Jujul Academy's entrance exam. No fluff—listen up for the instructions."
The noisy crowd went dead silent, like ice water had been dumped on them.
"First trial: crossing the Spiritual Path."
He pointed across the cliff. Through the mist, massive tiled roofs loomed faintly.
"Walk from here to the front gate over there. Time limit: one hour."
He paused, scanning us.
"Fail to arrive? You're out. Failures get their memories wiped and sent home. That's it."
And that was all. No further explanation.
"How the hell are we supposed to get there in an hour...?"
"Hike down and up again?"
"Time limit makes no sense. We'd need some invisible path in the air or something."
Murmurs erupted, but not everyone panicked. Half looked unfazed, like they'd expected it. Some even smirked.
"Figures. Muggles mixed in."
Someone clicked their tongue. Eyes turned to a red-haired guy with a cocky vibe. Kids near him flinched and made way.
"That's Kang Hak."
"The genius from that prestigious family?"
"He's really here. Top spot's his for sure."
Whispers reached me. Kang Hak—famous, apparently. News to me. He ignored the stares, striding to the edge. Nothing but a bottomless abyss below. But he stepped out without hesitation.
Thud.
A footstep echoed in midair. Hands in pockets, he strolled casually, like on a solid path.
"Let's go."
"Don't block the way—hurry!"
Kang Hak took off, and the hesitant ones followed, leaping off the cliff. Some traced symbols in the air with fingers; others slapped talisman-like papers on their soles and vaulted forward.
What the hell am I watching?
Dazed by the midair walking, the proctor eyed me coldly.
"What're you doing? Not going? If you can't open your Yeong-an, you're out."
"Yeong-an?"
"Basic for any jujul-sa. The academy's doors don't open for those blind to what's there."
What? So those guys jumping off see something? What is it? Whatever it was, I wanted to see it too. No way was I standing here like an idiot and getting sent back.
"How do you open this Yeong-an thing?"
"Not something a muggle opens just 'cause they want to. It's innate talent."
Ridiculous answer.
"Then why was I invited?"
The proctor stared for a beat.
"Mail mix-ups happen. Lingering spiritual aura fools the system into inviting muggles who've never seen a ma-mul. Looks like you're that type."
The faint thrill from getting the invite crashed into cold reality.
Just pretend I'm crazy and follow them?
But the wind from below cut like knives, and a pebble kicked off my toe vanished silently into the depths. Real cliff, for sure.
The chat confirmed it. They saw something; I didn't. And this wasn't a dream. Only me and three or four others left, all pale and staring at the ground. Memory wipe sounded like salvation—one guy even slumped in defeat.
Memory wipe my ass.
The hidden world I'd chased forever was real, and failing meant forgetting it all? Back to boring normal life, oblivious forever?
Bullshit. Who are they to mess with my head?
I couldn't be kicked from this secret threshold allowed to so few. That'd be worse than death.
"Hey."
I whispered to the air.
"You guys can see it, right? What does the path look like?"
"Then tell me how."
I stood at the edge, peering down, muttering.
"You'd get bored if I quit and went home, right? You're watching 'cause you expect something."
The chat hesitated, then exploded.
Debate broke out.
They bickered: acupuncture, nerve paralysis, conceptual sync. Gibberish to me, but this mystery chat was my only lifeline.
"No clue."
"Don't trust your eyes—see what you believe?"
Normally I'd blow it off, but it rang strangely true right now.
I closed my eyes, cramming the chat's logic into my head. If the flat ground I saw was fake, and their air path was real... if I rejected my brain's common sense and let my optic nerves sync with the world's flow...
Crackle!
A sharp, static-like sting stabbed inside my eyelids.
"Guh...! This right? Eyes aren't busted, are they?"
Heart pounding, I opened them.
The world had flipped.
"What the... this is real reality?"