EPISODE 2 — THE WORLD ON THE OTHER SIDE
1109 Words
The first thing Elara felt was cold.
Not the ordinary kind of cold that slipped beneath a jacket on a winter night.
This was different.
It surrounded her completely.
It seeped through her clothes, crawled beneath her skin, and made her fingers tremble.
Elara slowly opened her eyes.
For several seconds, she couldn't understand what she was seeing.
A pale blue sky stretched above her.
There were no buildings.
No streetlights.
No cars.
No sound of traffic.
Only trees.
Hundreds of them.
Tall, ancient trees swaying gently in the morning wind.
Elara pushed herself upright.
Her breathing quickened.
"What..."
She looked around.
The last thing she remembered was standing inside her apartment.
The pocket watch.
The voice.
You came back.
Then—
nothing.
She reached for her phone.
Her fingers froze.
There was no phone in her pocket.
"Okay."
She swallowed.
"Okay, don't panic."
She looked down at herself.
Her clothes were still the same—black jeans, white shirt, jacket.
But the world around her wasn't.
Elara stood slowly.
A dirt road stretched between the trees.
Far in the distance, she could see the roofs of houses.
Not modern houses.
Wooden houses.
Traditional ones.
She stared.
"No."
She walked toward the road.
Her shoes sank slightly into the soft earth.
"No, no, no..."
She turned around, expecting to see the city behind her.
There was nothing.
Only forest.
Her heart began pounding.
"This isn't possible."
She pulled the pocket watch from her jacket.
The strange object was still there.
Its hands had stopped at—
12:00.
Elara pressed the crown.
Nothing.
She shook it.
Nothing.
"Come on."
She hit it lightly against her palm.
"Work!"
The watch remained silent.
Then—
A horse neighed.
Elara jumped.
She turned.
A carriage was approaching from the road.
Not a car.
A carriage.
Her mouth fell open.
Two men were riding horses beside it, dressed in dark traditional clothing.
One of them noticed her.
He immediately reached for the sword hanging at his waist.
Elara raised both hands.
"Wait!"
The horse stopped.
The rider stared at her.
His eyes traveled from her shoes to her jeans, then to her jacket.
"What are you wearing?"
Elara looked down.
"Clothes?"
The man frowned.
His hand tightened around his sword.
"Who are you?"
Elara opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because she suddenly realized something.
She had no idea where she was.
And she had absolutely no idea when she was.
Meanwhile
Adrian hadn't slept.
He sat beside the window of his room, staring at the clock.
It had stopped at midnight.
Again.
He had seen it happen once before.
Many years ago.
When he was eight.
That night, his mother had found him standing in the hallway, crying.
When she asked what was wrong, he had told her:
"Someone is coming."
She had laughed.
Until she saw the clock.
12:00.
Stopped.
Exactly as it was now.
Adrian stood.
He walked toward it and touched the wooden frame.
His fingers paused.
There was something scratched into the wood.
A name.
He had never seen it before.
But somehow—
he knew it.
ELARA.
His face went pale.
A knock came at the door.
"Young Master."
Adrian quickly turned.
"Enter."
His servant stepped inside.
"There's a strange woman near the eastern road."
Adrian's heart stopped.
"What woman?"
"No one knows where she came from."
The servant hesitated.
"She claims she doesn't know where she is."
Adrian stared at him.
"And her name?"
The servant looked confused.
"She says it's Elara."
Silence.
Adrian slowly closed his eyes.
For years, he had dreamed of a woman he couldn't remember.
A woman standing beneath a clock.
A woman who always disappeared before he could reach her.
And every time he woke up, he heard the same voice.
Wait for me.
He had thought it was a dream.
Until tonight.
Adrian picked up his coat.
"Take me to her."
The Eastern Road
Elara sat beneath a tree while the two riders watched her suspiciously.
She had tried explaining that she was from Beijing.
They didn't understand.
She tried showing them her phone.
She didn't have one.
She tried telling them she was a singer.
That only made them more suspicious.
Finally, she sighed.
"Okay. Clearly, I'm doing terribly at this."
A third rider approached.
The other two immediately straightened.
Elara looked up.
A man was riding toward them.
Dark clothes.
Tall.
Straight posture.
His expression was calm, almost emotionless.
But there was something about him.
Something painfully familiar.
Elara's heart skipped.
He dismounted.
His boots touched the ground.
He looked at her.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then his eyes fell to the pocket watch in her hand.
His expression changed.
Barely.
But Elara noticed.
"You."
The word escaped his lips.
Elara frowned.
"Do we know each other?"
He didn't answer.
He walked closer.
One step.
Then another.
Until he stood directly in front of her.
His eyes searched her face as though he were trying to find proof that she was real.
Finally, he whispered,
"I thought I had more time."
Elara's stomach dropped.
"What does that mean?"
His gaze moved to the watch.
"Where did you get that?"
"I found it."
"From whom?"
"An old man."
Adrian's face became unreadable.
"What old man?"
"I don't know."
He looked toward the forest.
Then back at her.
"What's your name?"
Elara stared at him.
"You already know."
Something flickered across his eyes.
Fear.
Not confusion.
Not surprise.
Fear.
Elara stood.
"Who are you?"
He remained silent.
She stepped closer.
"Why do you know my name?"
Adrian looked at her as if the answer could destroy them both.
Then he said quietly:
"My name is Adrian."
Elara's heart began beating faster.
"Have we met before?"
Adrian's eyes softened.
For the first time, his carefully controlled expression broke.
"Not yet."
Elara frowned.
"What?"
He looked at the pocket watch.
Then at her.
"We haven't met yet."
A pause.
"But I remember losing you."
Elara couldn't breathe.
Adrian turned away.
"Take her to the house."
She grabbed his sleeve.
"Wait."
He stopped.
"What year is this?"
Adrian slowly looked back at her.
And the answer left Elara completely still.
"1897."
Her face went white.
The pocket watch slipped from her fingers.
It landed in the dirt.
And for the first time since she arrived—
the clock began ticking.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Adrian looked down at it.
His expression changed.
Because beneath the watch, hidden in the dirt, was something neither of them had noticed before.
A small piece of paper.
Adrian picked it up.
There was only one sentence written on it.
In Elara's handwriting.
DON'T TRUST ADRIAN.
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