Curiosity gnawed at me until I couldn't resist. I began packing quietly in my room — the usual necessities, but also things that might come in handy: flint and steel, a pouch of spices, my notebook and pen. When the bag was full, I tightened the straps and whispered to myself, That should be enough for a journey.
Slipping out of the house without a sound, I made my way to the bus station. Under the dim light of the clock tower, I saw two figures already waiting: a wrinkled old grandmother whose presence felt heavy and cold, and a boy about my age, travel-worn and carrying a pack like mine.
I sat between them, resting my head against the wall and sighing. The station clock read 11:49. I waited… and waited… until the hands struck twelve.
A bell rang out — loud and brazen, though no such bell existed in this town. A shiver crawled down my spine. Which world am I in now?
A yellow bus pulled up, ordinary in appearance, but its very presence felt wrong. The grandmother stepped aboard first, and I followed. The boy tugged at my shirt hesitantly, unsure if he should join, but in the end he followed and sat beside me at the back.
The grandmother began humming a lullaby — soft, but uncanny, as though echoing from a hollow place. The boy leaned against my shoulder and dozed, warmth radiating from him. Around his neck, I noticed, hung a strange pendant — an old clock mixed with a compass, its cover shut tight.
Cold wind filled the bus as passengers boarded. Time blurred strangely. It was as though the night folded itself around us. And then — silence. The bus kept moving, yet I could no longer tell where.
My lips whispered the dedication prayer I had read from the book. I prayed for safety.
When the bus finally screeched to a halt, the passengers filed out into a strange town. I nudged the boy awake and held his hand as we stepped into the streets.
The place was cold, yet oddly familiar. People wandered about, laughing, chatting, living like figures from olden times. At first it felt peaceful… until their laughter twisted. Too sharp. Too loud.
Airah! Snap out of it! the boy's voice jolted me. They're trying to trap you in this dream!
I closed my eyes, sharpening my senses. A coppery smell of blood hit my nose, the wind cut with unnatural chill, and the laughter became a circus of mockery. My grip tightened on the boy's hand. We ran.
He flicked open his pendant — inside was indeed a clock and compass, its needle spinning wildly before settling in one direction. Now he pulled me, and I followed, until we reached an antique bar glowing faintly with warm light.
Inside, a man awaited us, setting down two glasses of milk and a plate of cookies. My heart lurched: I recognized him. He was the owner of the book.
I flipped open the second page — but it was blank. No words, no letters, not even a chapter title. I looked up in alarm. He only smiled.
"Oh my, oh my. You've come far," he said warmly. "Today, I will reward you with Chapter Two."
I gasped as he poured a mug of black liquid onto the page, drenching the book. "What are you doing!?"
He only smiled deeper. His words blurred, muffled, but then he lifted the book, blew across its surface, and the black stain turned to dust. The page gleamed — and the second chapter was revealed.
"Fascinating, isn't it?" he murmured. "Travel long and far, and you will find the meaning behind your will."
Then, like smoke, he and the bar vanished. Dust, cobwebs, and decay filled the space where light and warmth had been.
Daylight returned to the town. The ghostly crowd was gone. I sat on a bench, the boy silent at my side, and read the words written on the newly revealed page:
The Ghost Town and its Fountain of Two.
One path leads to a forest,
One path leads to doom.
Choose wisely, for fate changes with you.
Be grateful. Be humble.
The forest is part of nature.
What will it be to you?
I looked up. In my real town, there was only one fountain. But here, two stood before me.
The clue was tangled in the riddle. Be grateful. Be humble. The forest is part of nature…
Then realization struck: it didn't matter which fountain I chose. The true path was within my own nature.