The Titan Code

1. Fireworks in the Old Town Square

GOLDEN sparks erupt gloriously against the black sky, illuminating the elaborate baroque architecture beneath it. The air suddenly fills with high-pitched squeals before explosions of red and white lights shower the empty air.

The fireworks envelop the dark night's sky with immense clarity and the sounds echo through the old town square, ricocheting between imposing Gothic spires and sympathetic modern shop frontages. From every position across the Square it seems as though the fireworks are coming from the mediaeval clock tower, wherein was sat one of the world's oldest astronomical clocks. Even in the harsh darkness of night the Astronomical Clock with its polished golden dials and vaguely mystical symbols looks majestic, archaic, eternal.

I smile contentedly. Even in freezing cold temperatures at ten minutes to one in the morning Prague was more than ever a sight to be seen. The fireworks herald the end of a performance at the opera house near Charles Bridge which is only a few streets behind the clock tower. Standing in one of the most architecturally beautiful cities in the world makes me appreciate these rare moments of happenstance.

I pull my grey scarf further up my face and began to walk curiously around the middle of the cobbled square dimly lit by ornate street lamps casting their yellow glow.

I've always wanted to visit Prague and this opportunity was worth the wait. The impressive baroque structures become grandiose in the darkness and maintain their dignity even as bar crawlers stagger past.

"Pojd'te a přidejte se k nám!" One particularly drunk local heckles at me as his group passes by, but in the absence of any understanding of Czech I continue looking around in wonder. The February cold does nothing to dampen my spirits, however- each building is as ornate and exquisite as the next.

The sound of the fireworks stops with a final, booming clap. People wandering through the Square clap and laugh and the flashes of light cease flickering across the cobbles.

I take it all in with another glance around the Square.

"I definitely want to come back here in the day time," I say aloud to nobody.

The clock strikes the hour and I sigh with regret before sitting down on the edge of a seat.

"Sorry to go," I say wryly, and as the clock chimes I feel the all-too-familiar tingle spread through my body. The vista begins to fade very gently before my eyes and the tingle becomes an uncomfortable tug across my chest. Then, as the tugging and tightening sensation heightens and the feeling spreads to the extremities my vision turns black and I no longer exist.

*

From within the blackness a faint floral pattern begins to form. The pattern becomes stronger and the outline of furniture appears around it. The furniture gives way to a misty bedroom and following the disappearing tingling sensation the room is now perfectly solid and clear.

I'm sat up in bed, a grey scarf wrapped around my neck comfortingly. With a yawn I take it off along with the warm jacket, trainers and black rucksack I'm wearing; everything gets plopped on the floor by the bed and I pull the duvet up around me.

"That was definitely one of the best yet!" I say aloud to the room. Two minutes later and the room went dark again.

*

I yawn as I wake up with the alarm clock; last night had been so exciting for me and, despite the tiredness, I'm definitely in a good mood. I've always wanted to visit Prague and last night I got my wish, albeit for a very short fifteen minute trip.

I'm Ella Matthews and I am an unusual woman with an extraordinary gift, one I have no control over and no explanation for. Ever since my eighteenth birthday I started vanishing at quarter to twelve most nights for only fifteen minutes, fading into a different place across the globe and reappearing again at home by midnight. I have no influence over where I go; no way of predicting the destination; no idea or explanation as to why this ridiculously impossible thing is evidently real.