Sithu couldn't get Finn's words out of her head.
"You're like Aslan," he had said, his eyes wide and sincere. "You stand up for justice."
Aslan. The lion from Narnia. Finn's comparison had stirred something deep inside her, unlocking a long-buried memory. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe—her first love in the world of books, the story that had ignited her imagination all those years ago.
That night, as she sat in her apartment, she found herself thinking more and more about that book. The dream of the queen had felt so real, and she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to it than just her imagination. Could the key truly be hidden within the pages of the book? It seemed ridiculous, but her childlike wonder and curiosity wouldn't let her dismiss it.
With a sense of purpose she hadn't felt in days, she began to search for her old copy of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Her apartment was small, but cluttered with books and knickknacks she had accumulated over the years. She spent hours searching through old boxes, shelves, and drawers, but no matter where she looked, the book was nowhere to be found.
Frustrated but not defeated, she realized she would have to go back to her childhood home. Surely it would be there, hidden among the memories of her younger years.
The next morning, she took the bus to her parents' house. Her mom greeted her at the door, surprised to see her so unexpectedly.
"What brings you here, sweetie? Is everything okay?" her mother asked, concern creasing her brow.
Sithu hesitated, unsure how to explain her real reason. "I wanted to find an old book. Something I read when I was a kid. I thought it might be here."
Her mother smiled warmly, though with a hint of curiosity. "Alright, well, feel free to look. It should all still be in your room."
Sithu made her way to her old bedroom, the familiar scent of her childhood washing over her as she stepped inside. The room was almost exactly as she had left it, a snapshot of her teenage years. Posters of fantasy worlds and beloved characters still clung to the walls, and the shelves were packed with books she hadn't touched in years.
Her heart raced as she approached the old wooden trunk in the corner of the room. She knelt beside it, lifting the lid to reveal a treasure trove of forgotten memories. Buried beneath old toys and trinkets was the full Narnia book series. The spines were worn, the pages yellowed with age, but they were intact.
She carefully took out the first book, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and sat on the floor, flipping through the familiar pages. She scanned each one, looking for anything that might resemble the key the queen had mentioned, but there was nothing. Disappointment crept in as she finished the book, finding no clues, no hidden key.
Determined, she moved on to the next book, and then the next. She went through all seven, page by page, hoping for a sign—but found nothing.
With a heavy sigh, Sithu leaned back against the wall, staring at the pile of books in front of her. She felt a wave of frustration, and more than that, a sense of embarrassment for even believing that there could be something magical hidden in the pages. Dreams were dreams. Reality was something else entirely.
She packed the books into a bag, deciding to take them back with her, even though they hadn't given her the answers she had hoped for. On her way out, her mother asked if she found what she was looking for, but Sithu could only muster a tired smile.
Later that night, back at her apartment, Sithu was curled up on the couch, holding The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe in her lap. As much as she tried to brush it off, the disappointment weighed heavily on her. The dream, the queen, Finn's words—it had all felt like it meant something. Now, it all just seemed... foolish.
Her phone buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. It was Miss Hendricks, one of the more talkative teachers at the school. Sithu answered, hoping for a normal conversation, but it quickly became clear that the call wasn't for her benefit.
"I just thought you should know," Miss Hendricks began, her voice dripping with gossip. "There are some rumors going around about you. The other teachers... well, they think you're a bit odd. You know how people talk."
Sithu's heart sank. "What kind of rumors?"
"Oh, you know... just that you don't really fit in. People are wondering why you're even working with kids. There's even some talk about your... behavior."
Sithu listened in silence as Miss Hendricks continued, her words like daggers. She knew she was different, but hearing it laid out like that, so casually cruel, made her feel smaller than ever. By the time the call ended, Sithu was on the verge of tears.
She clutched the book tighter, trying to hold back the flood of emotions. But the tears came anyway, falling onto the worn pages of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. As she sobbed, she felt the weight of the world pressing down on her, the rejection from her peers, the uncertainty of her future.
And then, something strange happened.
Through her tear-blurred vision, she noticed a faint glow emanating from the book. At first, she thought it was a trick of the light, but the glow grew brighter, illuminating the room with a soft, golden hue. Sithu's heart raced as she opened the book.
There, nestled between two pages, was something she hadn't seen before—a small, intricate key, glimmering in the soft light. The key was silver, with delicate engravings that spiraled along its length. At its head was a tiny lion, roaring silently, regal and powerful.
Sithu stared at it in disbelief, her breath catching in her throat. The dream, the queen, Finn's words—it had all been real. The key... it was real.
Her fingers trembled as she picked up the key, feeling its cool, smooth surface. What did this mean? Where did it lead? And why had it appeared now?
One thing was clear—her journey had only just begun.
YOU ARE READING
Whims of a Quiet Dreamer
FantasyIn a bustling town where expectations weigh heavy and adulthood feels like an ill-fitting cloak, Sithu lives quietly, embracing a world of her own making. A whimsical soul with a heart full of stories, she drifts between the mundane and the fantasti...