Antifragile

The mountains loomed above them, cold and indifferent. The night air was thick with the scent of pine and the weight of uncertainty. The group had taken refuge in a cave tucked away in the rocky ridges, far from the bustling city of Hanyang, but not far enough to escape the danger that had begun to close in on them. The fire they had built flickered weakly against the damp chill, casting long shadows on the walls as they huddled together in the dim light.

Eunbi sat against the jagged rock face, her gaze fixed on the fire, but her mind was miles away. She could still hear the sound of soldiers’ boots on the streets, the distant thrum of drums signaling that the hunt was far from over. They had barely escaped Hanyang, and now they were hiding in a cave, unsure of where to go next or what to do.

“We can’t stay here forever,” Eunbi muttered under her breath, the words barely audible to the others.

She wasn’t sure if she was speaking to them or just to herself. The constant weight of their situation—of the threat on their lives—pressed down on her like a vice.

Sakura, sitting nearby, rubbed her temples, the exhaustion from the last few days catching up to her.

“No, we can’t. But we can’t go back to Hanyang either. The soldiers will find us eventually. And I don’t think we can fight our way out of this.”

Yena, still struggling to recover from her wounds, shifted uneasily on the hard ground.

“Where do we go then? There’s no safe place left in the city. We’re stuck.”

The fire crackled as the silence stretched on. Chaewon, ever the strategist, was pacing near the entrance of the cave, scanning the landscape outside.

“We can’t just sit here and wait. We need to leave, but where?” she muttered. “The soldiers will be searching the mountain passes by morning. We’ll be trapped.”

Eunchae, her face pale from the exhaustion of the journey and her lingering injuries, looked up from where she sat on the ground.

“We don’t have many choices. But if we stay here too long, we’ll be cornered. We need to figure out a way to get out of the country—somewhere far from here, where they can’t find us.”

Sakura’s eyes flicked to Eunbi, who had her hand clenched around her sword hilt. The older woman’s grip tightened with each passing thought, each idea running through her mind.

“We’ll have to find a way to the coast. A ship, maybe. But how do we get to the port without being seen?”

Eunbi glanced around the cave, her mind working. The night had drawn on, and they couldn’t afford to rest for long. There had to be a way out, a plan. But as much as they needed help, they had no idea who they could trust anymore.

And then, just as she was beginning to lose hope, a small noise came from the mouth of the cave—a soft crunch of gravel. Her heart stilled. Someone was approaching.

Eunbi quickly stood, drawing her sword, the others following her movements with tense anticipation. They had been so careful to keep their presence concealed, so careful to stay off the main roads. A few seconds felt like a lifetime.

Through the narrow gap in the rocks, they saw a figure slip inside—a silhouette in the shadows, hesitant but determined.

“Who’s there?” Eunbi’s voice was sharp as she raised her sword, her eyes fixed on the figure.

The figure froze, eyes wide with fear, but then it stepped forward, the faintest trace of recognition on its face.

“It’s… Minju.”

Eunbi’s grip on the sword loosened, though she didn’t lower it. The girl before them was the same Minju they had encountered a few times before. Timid, quiet, a girl who seemed too fragile to be part of their world. But there she was, standing in front of them in the cold mountain cave, clearly anxious but unafraid to make herself known.

Minju hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, her voice shaky but sincere.

“I—I didn’t know where else to go. I know what’s happening in Hanyang. I thought I might be able to help.”

The others exchanged wary glances. Minju had never been a central figure in their lives, and they weren’t sure if they could trust her with their survival.

“Help?” Eunbi asked, her voice cold, her expression unreadable. “What do you mean by help?”

Minju lowered her eyes, clearly uncomfortable with the weight of their scrutiny. She shifted on her feet, wringing her hands nervously.

“I—I know the way out of the city. I can show you how to get to the coast. I know a route that’s hidden—people have been using it for years. There’s a way out, a ship waiting. I can help you escape.”

The group was silent for a long moment. They hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected anyone, let alone Minju, to offer them a way out of their predicament. But her words hung in the air, tempting, offering them a chance at escape. The idea of leaving the mountains, of leaving Hanyang behind, was their only chance at survival.

Eunbi narrowed her eyes.

“How do we know you’re not leading us into a trap?”

Minju flinched at the accusation, her eyes wide with hurt.

“I swear, I’m not. I—I don’t want to see anyone else die. I’ve heard what’s going on in the city. I know you’re being hunted. I just—I can’t stand by and do nothing. I’m not asking for anything in return. I just want to help.”

The group exchanged more glances. There were no other options left. The soldiers would find them if they stayed. The coast was their best hope, but it was a long shot. If Minju was lying, they would be caught before they even reached the shore.

But something in her eyes—something in the way she held herself, hesitant but determined—made Eunbi pause. She didn’t know Minju well, but the girl seemed sincere. And they had no choice but to trust her, at least for now.

Eunbi sheathed her sword, her face hard but resolved.

“Alright. Show us the way.”

Minju nodded quickly, a relieved breath escaping her lips.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I promise I won’t let you down.”

The journey through the mountain paths was tense, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the thick trees and the weight of their fear. Minju led the way with surprising confidence, though she kept her head down, always alert, as if any moment could be their last.

They traveled through narrow, rocky trails that wound their way downward toward the coast. The night air was thick with mist, and the distant sounds of the city—soldiers patrolling, people screaming—were faint but unmistakable.

Minju’s route took them along hidden pathways, down into ravines and through forested areas where they could remain unseen. But even as they made their way closer to the coast, the tension never eased. They were always looking over their shoulders, always listening for the telltale signs of pursuit.

As they reached a secluded clearing, the distant glow of a lantern caught Eunbi’s attention. A small boat, its sails drawn tight, bobbed in the water, waiting for them.

Minju turned to face them, her voice barely a whisper.

“This is it. The boat will take you to a nearby island, and from there, you can make your way to safety.”

Eunbi looked at the boat, then back at Minju.

“You’re sure about this?”

Minju nodded, her eyes bright with the urgency of their situation.

“Yes. Go. Don’t look back.”

Without another word, they moved toward the boat, the sound of their footsteps fading as they made their escape into the night, leaving behind the mountain and the city that had once been their home.