It wasn't as if I laid down because I was sleepy.
Something had made me faint—or worse, forced me to sleep.
In that hazy space between consciousness and dreams, I could see a silhouette against dim, flickering light.
A black outline.
The shape of my mother.
Was she smiling at me? I wondered. But before I could be sure, the image shattered like glass.
I jolted awake, gasping for air.
The cold hit me first—sharp and unforgiving.
I could feel snow beneath me.
Frozen. Damp. Real.
It took me several seconds to realize I wasn't in my room.
This place… it was a cave. An icy one. Pale blue crystals glistened from the frozen walls, and frost covered everything like a shroud.
Even stranger—my clothes had changed.
I was no longer in my pajamas but dressed in a hooded woolen jacket, thick winter pants, and insulated boots. Whoever—or whatever—had brought me here, had also dressed me for survival.
A thick, ghostly mist hung in the air, curling around me like cold breath. It muffled sound, distorted shapes. I could barely see beyond a few feet.
But the strangest part of all was that I expected something to happen.
Ever since I received that silver card…
That wasn't like me. I wasn't the kind of person who expected magic or mystery. Yet here I was.
Not the time for questions.
The mist was thickening. I needed to find a way out of the cave before visibility dropped further.
Thankfully, it wasn't completely dark yet. A faint light glowed from one direction—the opposite end of the cave.
It must be daytime. If it had gotten any darker, I'd be screwed.
I shoved both hands into my jacket pockets and started walking toward the light.
And then—
I felt it. A small, metallic object.
The card.
The same silver card I'd received before. Someone had slipped it into the pocket of this new jacket.
I pulled it out.
Smooth, cold metal. This time, different words were etched onto its surface:
---
[WELCOME IZMIR
Please wait beside the icy river for the train]
---
Again, completely unexpected. I stared at it, my breath fogging up in front of me.
Will I ever go home again?
I kept walking until I reached the mouth of the cave.
But outside… there was nothing.
Just snow.
Endless white. I blinked in disbelief. No river. No landmarks. Nothing.
I was dumbfounded.
And now I had to find a river made of ice?
Grumbling under my breath, I started down a slope, my boots crunching into the snow. In the distance, something glimmered beneath a sheet of frost, but I ignored it. Too many distractions already.
What have I gotten myself into?
What time is it?
Where am I?
Where will I end up?
But despite everything, a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
Never mind. I love the thrill.
The air outside tasted sharp, the kind of cold that bites your lungs. Not that I expected anything warm out here.
I looked up, wondering if the sky was even real.
Something flew across it—a silhouette at first, flapping, gliding. Birdlike, but… not.
It was getting closer.
Too big to be a bird.
And then I saw it more clearly.
A dragon.
Or… was it?
Its wings looked mechanical. Its body metallic, almost like armor.
It wasn't a dragon. It was a train.
A flying train.
It took me longer than I'd like to admit to process that.
But… where's the river? I thought again.
Yet here it was, descending swiftly before me, snow swirling in its wake.
The landing was smooth but powerful, shaking the ground slightly.
A small window opened. A man with silver-framed glasses and a bored expression leaned out.
"Do you have the ticket?" he asked.
Wordlessly, I took the metallic card from my pocket and handed it over.
He gave it a glance, nodded. "Get in."
I hesitated. "But… the card said to wait by the river."
He narrowed his eyes, ran a hand through his hair like he'd heard this kind of thing before.
"Don't you think," he said with a tired smirk, "if all this snow melted, this would be a river?"
He was mocking me.
I snorted. "No. An ocean."
He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Get in. I don't have time to waste talking to you."
I bet he'd get along perfectly with Dr. Lupin if they ever met. Same energy. Different faces, though.
I climbed aboard the dragon-train—not because I feared being left alone in the frozen desert, but because I feared something worse:
Not finding out more.
Not uncovering the truth.
Not satisfying the curiosity burning in my chest.