THROUGH THE BRACADIS WIND

Tony slipped out as twilight deepened, rehearsing the words he'd spent sleepless nights committing to memory. He needed them to reach the man who'd given him the traveler's suit-questions burning on his tongue, answers more urgent than rest.

At the old stone resting place, a lone figure waited: the stranger, hunched and silent beneath a tattered cloak. Tony's heart pounded as he approached.

"I'm... not sure I deserve this gift," Tony admitted, voice low. "It's already cost me more than I can bear."

The stranger said nothing. Tony paused, then offered, "May we hold two minutes of silence? To honor what's been lost-and what still might be found."

They stood back to back, breath mingling with the night air. When the silence ended, the old man spoke first, his voice soft but unwavering.

"Nothing happens by accident," he said. "Every moment is a thread in the tapestry of fate. Your sister's journey through time was not her doing alone-it was guided by my thoughts, by telepathy."

Tony's breath caught. "You reached her?"

"In mind," the old man confirmed. "But there is no need for fear. What has been set in motion will unfold as it must."

Tony swallowed the knot of doubt in his chest. At last, he felt the weight of uncertainty lift just a fraction-and with it, a spark of hope."I'm deeply concerned about my sister's absence. Can you by any means bring her back to me?" Tony asked, his voice trembling.

"There's no such thing," the old man replied. "You can reach her, but she can't return without the Codex chant and the Traveler's Time Clock."

Tony nodded. His mission was clear: get to his sister and guide the two of them on whatever quest lay ahead. Who knew what might happen there-or how long they might need to stay.

They spoke late into the night, sorting through questions and answers. At last, Tony bowed and asked permission to leave. The old man gave a curt nod.

Once back in his bedroom, Tony laid out his tools. He opened the Codex to the memorized page and held the Prism of Life aloft. He recited the ancient chant, then deliberately adjusted a knob on the Traveler's Time Clock.

He sensed something stirring.

After touching the Prism two more times, a bright, dazzling light burst from it, filling the room. In an instant, Tony-and with him the Prism, the Codex, and the Traveler's Time Clock-vanished.

He had to touch the Prism because the timeline was unknown. He needed to trace the last traveler's path to make space for himself. It wasn't enough to know the timeline; he had to meditate on it, recite the chant precisely, and then use the Time Clock.

Following the exact order, he spoke the chant again and engaged the clock. The force of the timeline acting on him was immense-far greater than anything Elsie had experienced, even though she'd been drawn telepathically and recited the chant repeatedly without fully understanding it.

When the light finally faded, Tony stood in a strange no-place between moments-naked, his clothes torn away by the force, but still clutching the Traveler's tools. They alone had withstood the torrent of temporal power.

He drew a steadying breath. Now, he would follow the trail left by that force-and find his sister.

Tony found himself drawn to Highland Valley-Valley Molab, as the old maps called it. Beside him lay the Traveler's Tools, still warm from the last journey.

A weathered sign creaked in the breeze: WELCOME TO ABERGDON OF THE BRACADIS.

Hidden among overgrown weeds, Tony spotted a brown coat, a sturdy leather belt, and a worn saddlebag. He donned the coat-its hem brushing his knees-and cinched the belt around his waist. He slung the saddlebag over his shoulder. He still lacked trousers, but these gifts felt like lifelines in this strange land.

Unlike Elsie, he wasn't swept away by wonder. He knew this valley marked another step on his time‑travel path. As the wind tugged at his coat, he examined the belt: What purpose did it serve?

A new chapter awaited in his journal. Tony patted his pockets. Where was his quill? He steadied himself. It was time to write.

Hahahaha , off he went