In the quaint town of Elmswood, nestled between towering pines and Lake Atoka, lived a brilliant astrophysicist named Dr. Eleanor Koss. Known for her unorthodox theories on spacetime, wormholes, and portals, she often spent nights gazing through her old but powerful telescope, searching for evidence to support her claims.
One fateful evening, while observing a peculiar alignment of stars light up the night sky, Eleanor noticed an anomaly—a faint, shimmering light that seemed to flicker in and out of existence. The light hovered just above the towering pines, deep in the forest, near the lake. She was sure it wasn’t a star; it looked more like a reflection from something, but from what? Who knew! Excitement overcoming her, Eleanor quickly calculated the distance and approximate coordinates and set out to investigate.
Jumping on her ATV, she drove to the edge of the woods. She knew the area well, so she had no problem navigating her way through the trees as she headed for the water’s edge. The forest was getting darker; the light she had seen must have stopped flickering, but no matter, she knew exactly where she was heading.
As she approached her destination, the ground beneath her ATV felt like it was humming. There was no other way she could describe it. It was subtle, but something was very different. The air felt heavier too, so she took that as a sign she was nearly where she wanted to be.
Minutes later she arrived at her calculated coordinates, gathering her courage, Eleanor grabbed her bag and stepped off the ATV. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced; she could feel the vibration under her own feet. She took a few steps in the direction of the lake and stopped! What was that? It looked like an old moss-covered rock, but it was flattish and perfectly round. Has it always been there? She thought. Undeterred, she continued towards it. She was sure this was where she saw the original light coming from, and as if to confirm her thoughts, it suddenly appeared again. It was bright, so bright she shielded her eyes but was able to make out that it was some kind of opening. Then it was gone.
This was what she had seen through her telescope—the opening and closing of this ‘portal’, reflecting in the night sky. Her heart was racing; what am I going to do? She thought, knowing full well, she was going in!
Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long for it to appear again; a few more minutes and she may have managed to talk herself out of this foolishness. She didn’t hesitate; she rushed forward and stepped in. A swirling vortex of light and sound seemed to stretch and compress her very being. She wasn’t moving, or at least it didn’t feel like she was. But when the portal opened, she stepped out, knowing she wasn’t in the same place.
She found herself in a bustling marketplace, filled with sights and sounds that were both familiar and alien. Grateful for all the activity, she managed to ground herself, going unnoticed giving her time to take in her surroundings. Eleanor realized she had traveled back in time; it looked like the medieval era. The townsfolk, clad in simple garments, selling and buying their wares, was a sight she had seen in many history books. She wandered the cobblestone streets, marveling at the simplicity and beauty around her; untouched by modern technology. While enjoying her anonymity and absorbing her surroundings, she was still very aware of the fact that she needed to make sure she was able to get back home. Would she see the portal open again from this side of time? She had no idea but remained in the vicinity for a quick run for it, if it did.
Hours went by, so determined to make the most of her journey, Eleanor sought out the locals to see if she could find a place to sleep for the night. She had no money, but she did have a chocolate bar in her bag, and as she was dressed in her usual boho style garb, her clothes weren’t so outrageous as to not fit in.
A kind soul, believing she was a lost traveler, which in fact she was, allowed her to sleep in his barn. She was so grateful and, with the blanket her had given her, made herself as comfortable as she could as far away from the front door as possible. Once she was settled, she dared to open the chocolate bar. She would have to burn the wrapper, she couldn’t take the chance of it being found. They would probably burn her at the stake as a witch if they found it, she thought, smiling to herself.
Despite the circumstances, she slept soundly. In the morning, the barn owner gave her a bowl of hot oatmeal and a drink of water, which she consumed eagerly. He told her that he was sorry, but it was time for her to leave. She thanked him graciously and asked if he knew if anyone was looking to hire a worker. He told her that a farmer who lived in the next village to the north had recently lost his wife and was looking for help feeding the farm animals and doing the chores. He told her that he didn’t think he could pay much other than food and board, but hopefully it would help her out. She thanked him again, finished her food, and began her journey to find the next village.
The days turned into months, and Eleanor put her heart and soul into her new job. The old farmer was understandably sad and kept himself to himself. But as she proved her worth, he slowly opened up and told her how much he appreciated her company and what she did for the farm. The farm thrived as Eleanor used ideas from the future for doing things. Only small adjustments, of course, as she had limited resources, but a little tweaking made a lot of difference. They became good friends. Eleanor wasn’t sure she even wanted to leave, but she knew she had to find a way home; she couldn’t stay here forever.
The quality crops and milk produced by the farm reached the knowledge of the Lord of the local castle. He sent a messenger to the old farmer requesting crops and milk for his people and paid a handsome price. The farmer was so happy he invited Eleanor to accompany him to deliver the goods. They reached the castle and received a warm welcome. They were invited to dine with the Lord himself and had free access to his realms. Eleanor chose to explore the castle; after all, who has had the opportunity to do this from the 21st century? She allowed herself to wander and came upon a huge library; it was filled with ancient manuscripts and old scrolls. One particular book caught her eye—it was a dusty, leather-bound volume called The Chronomancy’s Chronicles. Was that an odd title for these times, she wondered. Anyway, she pulled it off the shelf and flipped through the pages. There were detailed instructions on how to control the flow of time, referencing wormholes and portals that randomly appear. How could this be? She thought. It looks old enough to be from this era, so how factual is it? She didn’t care; she carefully hid the book in the drapes of her cloak and made her way back to the castle grounds to meet the old farmer.
They traveled home that evening, the old farmer smiling and singing a song that reminded him of his wife. He wished his wife could have been there to see his good fortune, but knew deep down it was due to Eleanor coming into his life that had created the change.
A week later, Eleanor explained to the old farmer that she had to leave. She confided in him about who she was and how she arrived there. He accepted her story, not convinced about who she was, but loved her like his own daughter, not to care. He was sad to see her leave, but something told him she had to go.
Eleanor had been studying the book she had found and, armed with the knowledge she had gained, needed to return to the old marketplace and retrace her steps to the place of the moss-covered stone. The book had revealed there were specific times and dates that the portal opened, and she was here, ready for the next opening due in eleven minutes. If it didn’t happen, then so be it, but if it did, she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to step back into her world.
As predicted, she saw the opening, torn to leave, but excited to go home, she rushed forward and stepped into the portal. Like before, a vortex of light and sound seemed to stretch and compress her very being, only this time taking her home. When she emerged, she was back in Elmswood. It felt like nothing had changed but she needed to find out the date to be sure,
Surprised to see her ATV parked just a few feet away, she climbed aboard and headed home. She felt woolly-headed; could any of this have been real? She thought. She soon arrived home and, feeling relieved, stepped inside appreciating the familiarity of her surroundings, probably for the first time. She looked at the clock and it was showing the time that she would have reached the portal. She checked the date on the newspaper in her mailbox, it was the same date she left too. She walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured herself a generous glass of Cab Sav. Slumping down in her favourite chair, she took a large sip, savouring the taste; had she just woken up from a dream? She honestly felt like everything she could remember was real, but how is that possible? She drank the glass of wine quickly, enjoying the feeling of relaxation, and decided to soak in the bath. She headed up the stairs to her bedroom and went to hang her bag on the back of the wardrobe door. It felt unusually heavy. Tipping everything out on the bed, she saw why—there was an old heavy book that she was carrying in it. She picked it up and read the title, and that’s when everything came flooding back to her. The marketplace, the castle and of course the old farmer.
What she had experienced had been real. She knew she needed to record everything she could remember right now, before it eluded her. Her bath forgotten; she grabbed her laptop and started to type. Three days later, having spent days and nights recording her amazing experience, she finally reached the end. The funny part was though, even with her having this personal encounter, she couldn’t prove any of it. Even the book she bought back with her could be explained away as being found somewhere in this lifetime.
So…it was back to the drawing board trying to find provable theories on spacetime, wormholes, and portals, but somehow it just didn’t feel as important anymore. She knew the truth and honestly didn’t care if anyone believed it or not. She had experienced it and had loved every minute of it and truly missed the old farmer, she wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.
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