“ You stumble upon a thrift store in a quiet town and find…”
It still baffles me that I get to do this. I have always been a wanderer. I always had to work hard to settle on a place. People asked me if I ever wanted to stay. If I ever wanted a place to call my own. If I ever wanted a place to call my home. And the lure of home was always there…something challenging to answer. Because yes, what is better than to stay at a place and call it your own. But I found something else. This magic of travel never lets its magic fade.
So, when people built their homes, I chased sunrise. When they decorated their cosy corner, I sat in a dinky cafe and drank a yet again new flavour of coffee. There were too many places that let me feel like I was home, but the chase never ended, and I was never upset. I even loved it. I loved finding new places and new people. Fresh food and unique culture. New life lessons and contemporary beauty. And that brought me to Saragar. The only thing people told me was that the town was different. It changes you.
The town didn’t look anything different. It looked the same. The same hand-built homes, the same farms, the same under-the-tree chatting spots. The same peace that you feel when you leave the chaos behind. But it felt different. I could feel magic everywhere. The place looked ordinary, but there was something that felt extraordinary. I didn’t ask anyone what it was about the place. I wanted to find it myself. There is a weird satisfaction in looking around, trying to piece the pieces together. The air was intoxicating. And for the first time, I felt I could live here my whole life.
I slept under the stars that day. There was not a bee that stung me nor a rat that poked me. I saw a snake pass nearby, but that’s a different story. The stars didn’t shine brighter, but I am almost positive I saw two moons. I began my quest the next day after eating some fruits left by my feet. I tried, but I could not find anything that fit the puzzle I was trying to solve. 4 days passed, but my search was still fruitless. I was a little disheartened. I was confident I could’ve found the source of this magic some time ago. A lot of time ago.
All the questions have a solution, and I found the core. It was purely by accident and 100% by my intuition that I found the tiny shop. I stumbled, is a correct term. The thrift shop was in the middle of the road, and I was sure I hadn’t seen it before. But when I saw the small gate and the broken windows, somehow I knew. Somehow, I knew this place had answers to all my questions. And so I stepped in.
The shop was a walking paradox. It was divided into two parts. The two parts were utterly opposite and easy to distinguish. And while I stood there, probably for some minutes, just looking around, trying to hide my glee when someone pulled my cloak. I turned around only to see it empty.
“Oh, they never think to look down, do they?” a voice spoke, and I looked down, and yes, I found the people or the creature who pulled my cloak.
I kneeled down and said, “Hello.”
“I like this one,” the elf said.
“You like anyone who comes to this place,” another voice spoke, and I turned around to find a dwarf walking towards us. He stared at me and said, “You know where you are?”
I scratched my head sheepishly and shook my head. The elf clapped his head and danced in joy. While the dwarf just looked tired. He turned around and picked one book from the stack of books. He blew some air, and the dust flew. I could see the dust collecting on the ground little by little till there was enough to fill a bottle. He walked towards me, and I made myself comfortable on the floor.
“This book has all the answers to why you are here,” the drawf spoke.
“But I -”
The elf shook his head, and I stopped. The dwarf continued –
“I know who you are and why you are here. But this is bigger than you. Bigger than us. We are keepers of this place, and we have sworn to preserve this place as long as we can.”
“We also promised to keep it clean,” the elf added, “but alas, you couldn’t do it.”
The dwarf grumbled, and the stark difference in the two parts became clearer. The clean one definitely belonged to the elf.
“The war is coming. The song will be sung, and we don’t have much time.”
“War? Song? You have mistaken me for someone else. I am just a traveller.”
“A traveller who is out of his time. A traveller who never found a place to call home?” the elf spoke.
I had no answer to that.
“You are the key,” the dwarf spoke, “A key on whose shoulders the future lies.”
“I can’t. I can’t,” I stood up and tried to walk past them.
“If you go out, you won’t be able to come back in,” the dwarf said.
“Take all the time you want, but if you go out, you won’t be able to come back in,” the elf explained, “Please just read this book. You’ll understand everything.”
I turned. “I… I am not a hero.”
The dwarf scoffed, “Who said you are a hero? You are a key. A key to the puzzle to reach our hero. You are a pawn. Help us and go to your roads.”
“He doesn’t mean that,” the elf added, “Please. Just read this. You’ll understand everything.”
Despite my hesitation, I reached out to take the book, and as soon as I did, I felt a shift. I looked around, and I was no longer in the thrift shop. I was in a cave with my name written on the wall.
“You should have told him about this,” the elf murmured, staring at the spot from where the boy vanished.
“You didn’t either,” the dwarf spoke and burnt a letter.
Blog Chatter Blog Hop details can be found here.
A letter to someone who failed can be found here.
You can support me by buying me a Ko-fi.
A very interesting take on the prompt and I love reading Time Travel.