Chapter 1: Treasure hunt
© 2023-2024. Valody Gruenthorn. All rights reserved.
Cherry blossoms, a gentle breeze in my hair, my flowery sundress is blowing in the wind... what a perfect day. My gaze wanders over the various trinkets, garments, and stacks of books piled up on the tables in the colorful booths of our annual spring market.
I’m not looking for anything specific. As gross as this confession may sound, I just love old stuff. Finding a volume with yellowed, brittle pages or a dress that looks like it’s been forgotten in someone’s attic for a hundred years just gives me a delightful feeling of nostalgia. But please, don’t ask me about my tiny apartment that’s bursting at the seams because of all the random treasures I collect at every opportunity.
“Looks like the lair of an insane wizard,” was the sarcastic remark my last date made. Little did he know, I take that as a compliment. He obviously didn’t mean it that way, given he felt the need to fake an emergency call after already having made it into my apartment. Good riddance, I say. This “witch” was already obsessing about what to do once the dude realized I couldn’t remember his name. No hard feelings.
“Can I help you with anything?” A striking voice interrupts my utterly unimportant daydream when I notice I have unconsciously been staring at one of the old man’s crystal balls for a bit too long. Yes, I realize how that sounds.
“Sorry, I was distracted,” I laugh it off when a silver necklace with an iridescent pendant catches my attention. Nothing special material-wise, you might say, but the design is remarkable... almost impossible: The pendant looks like sparkling thread stitched into a spherical star, yet it’s cool to the touch. It seems delicate as if it could break at any second, but none of the spikes look damaged, despite the darkened silver elements which suggest it must have been worn for some time. Sorry about the details. I warned you, I’m a sucker for everything old.
“Where is this from?” I ask, when I register the elderly man is still regarding me with a curious gaze.
The sun must be playing tricks on me because I swear the green color of his eyes momentarily changes to silver. The imposing oak tree behind the booth provides plenty of shade, though—so much for that theory.
“Ah, one of our pieces from Alvedar.” He takes just a little too long to reply. “Impressive, isn’t it? The lady has a good eye.” He finishes his statement with a wink which takes me by surprise. I can’t help but stare at the man who doesn’t seem as old as I thought in the first place.
“Alvedar... sounds familiar. What’s the story behind the pendant? Does the shape mean anything?” I roll the surprisingly lightweight sphere between my fingers.
The seller frowns so quickly that I think I imagined it. “It’s everything that matters, my dear. Unity, fate, hope, inspiration,” he replies with a smirk. Waving his hand as if I asked a silly question, he draws my attention to his strange robe-like attire. Someone’s eccentric. I notice he didn’t answer my first question, but I’m starting to feel uneasy.
“I’ll take it,” I say, completely blanking on the fact that I should be haggling.
“It’s yours.” With a mysterious smile, he hands me the necklace in a little paper bag, faster than I can blink. It almost seems as if he knew I was going to take it before I did. Perplexed, I barely manage to thank him and scurry off like a scared cat.
As I walk home, I keep shaking my head, quietly laughing at myself for acting like a weirdo. Clinging tightly to the new treasure in my weathered purse, I can’t shake the eerie feeling of the encounter. It does not dawn on me that I got the necklace for free until I’m at the steps to my apartment. Man, I’m really out of it today.
The familiar “mess” I encounter soothes my soul. I let my fingers trace the backs of the old books that line my shelves as I walk toward the kitchen to make some coffee—got to screw that head back on straight before I decide what to make of my newest prized possession. Unwrapping the necklace, I place it on the wooden table and inspect it as I sip my scorching black coffee. It looks unreal. Instinctively, I start rolling the pendant back and forth between my fingers again. The way it reflects the light makes it appear as if it contains the whole universe.
Suddenly, I feel a slight hum, a subtle vibration that gets more pronounced by the second. Frowning, I drop the necklace on the table to look out of the window, assuming a big truck or a new construction site must be to blame. Nothing. I sniff the air for a fart that freed itself without my knowledge. Nope, not the case either. Eying the necklace suspiciously, I get my phone to find some information on this thing.
The search for Alvedar is a dead end. Why does it sound so familiar? I have difficulties hiding my disappointment. The next thing I want to try is a reverse image search, but every time I take a picture of the necklace it turns out black. Great.
Since I can’t think of anything else, I decide to return to the market and find the strange seller—he must know something. Back at the market, however, I can’t find him. Crap.
I wander up and down the market for what feels like hours, but he’s nowhere to be seen. And not just him, the whole booth is gone and has been replaced with one selling decorative plates. I rub my eyes, trying to remember whether I’m at the right place, but the large oak tree is unmistakable.
At this point, I’m really questioning my sanity. I approach the friendly-looking lady in the booth in front of the oak tree. “Excuse me, where is the booth with the old trinkets from this morning?”
She raises her eyebrows, looking at me as if I’m crazy. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re referring to... I have been here all week.” Her voice is laced with pity.
Wondering whether she is lying, I pay attention to every feature and wrinkle of her face, but her wide-eyed stare gives nothing away. I sigh.
“Perhaps a little further down? The market is so big, it’s easy to lose track of where everything is,” she offers with a laugh.
I want to point out remembering the oak tree, but since she’s simply being friendly, I let it go and nod, “I’ll look around some more, thanks.”
Asking the traders at the other booths in the vicinity of the giant oak only confirms the lady’s story. This is ridiculous. I can’t help but get annoyed. After all, I have the necklace right here in my purse. Not wanting to give up right away, I walk around some more, but no luck. Have I somehow ended up in a parallel universe?
My gaze is drawn to the sun setting on the horizon. The deep tones of purple fill me with a longing I cannot explain. Hugging myself, I shiver and make my way back home. Back at the apartment, I drop my purse on the table and take the necklace out. What a find! It amazes me every time I look at it.
Walking to the antique mirror in my bedroom, I put it around my neck. The tiny, rounded spikes feel surprisingly pleasant against my skin. Again, I feel the urge to roll the sphere between my fingers and, I swear, my eyes change color for a moment before I drop the necklace. My usual blue took on a purple hue. But that cannot be true, can it? Perhaps I should get my head examined.
As I stare at myself in disbelief, my breathing gets erratic; my heart sinks into my stomach. I know what I saw. Repeating the earlier motion of my fingers around the pendant, I apply more pressure this time. Not only does the color of my eyes change again, but the vibrations are back—with full force. My ears are ringing. An unfamiliar tingling starts from the two fingers holding the pendant and spreads throughout my whole body. Before I can drop the pendant in shock at my now vividly glowing purple eyes, I hear myself groan when everything goes black.
