Of the Forgotten: Cal Wants to Be Famous

Chapter 4: Into the Unknown

If uncovering secrets means sneaking onto another island while trying not to get caught, then I'm all in ...anything is better than staying behind with the urge to unravel the secrets of that book that's haunted me for years.

*

I asked the wind for help, and it's practically begging me to move faster—like it knows I'm about to do something big. Big as in... amazing or, you know, completely disastrous enough to ruin everything and then some.

No pressure.

I could've landed at the pier like a normal person. But did that thought cross my mind? Of course not.

I've never left home before, but there were too many secrets—too many things people wouldn't say. Maybe I should've done some research about this island before showing up.

But no, I couldn't stay another day back there, not with all those suffocating rules and endless waiting. And to quench this strong urge to unlock this secret.

So, here I am. Clueless and totally winging it. Bold choice, I know.

Good thing no one caught me sneaking in. Apparently, this place has top-tier security for outsiders. Was I aware of that? Absolutely not. 

I just strolled in like I belonged here. Fake it 'til you make it, right?

The plan—if I could even call it that—was to head to the town square and hope something, anything, would magically point me in the right direction. 

You know, like divine intervention or one of those giant "YOU ARE HERE" maps. But then, of course, things got interesting.

It wouldn't be a day in my life without a little chaos.

Just as I'm getting away from my boat, I hear this loud commotion. 

Turns out, some genius—who the local security's been chasing—decides to steal my boat! Of all the boats, it had to be mine.

That's when it finally hits me: Oh yeah, this place probably has rules.

Guess that's what happens when you leave the bubble you grew up in. Newsflash, Cal: not everyone lets you wander around in peace.

And the worst part? If they caught me landing here at the wrong time, they might've assumed the boat does not belonged to that snatcher. 

Imagine that—me, stuck with some silver bar pinned against my chest in the name of 'justice.' Lovely. Just perfect. Exactly the kind of place you want to end up after breaking a dozen rules.

At least I had my trusty grey cloak. Nothing fancy, but it makes me practically invisible. Not that I'm trying to hide or anything. Okay, maybe I am.

Wandering around in a cryptkeeper's cloak, dodging boat thieves, and faking confidence. What could go wrong? This is going to go great.

Yeah, that's what I thought. But the so-called town square? It looks like it's seen better days—probably centuries ago. 

The soil's all dry and cracked, like it's begging for water, and the wind whispers through the broken stone, a mournful song that echoes through the empty square. 

The howls through the cracks, carrying whispers that make the hair on my neck stand up.

It's got this haunting, hopeless sound to it, like it hasn't felt human life in ages.