The dragon tilted his head, watching Catty and Serafima struggle against the thick, sticky cocoon of spores. His bright eyes sparkled with curiosity, and he let out a soft, puzzled chirp, wondering why they had suddenly decided to stand so still.

“Any ideas, Serafima?” Catty managed a muffled groan.

"Not unless you've mastered setting fire with your mind."

The dragon perked up at the sound of their voices, tipping his head. He took a few cautious steps closer, then sniffed at the edge of the cocoon, his nostrils flaring as he caught the sweet-sour scent. Then, as if driven by a sudden impulse, he drew in a quick breath, his chest puffing out, and let loose a tiny puff of flame.

The fire flared on the cocoon and spread around. The spores quickly evaporated, blazing like dry leaves. A warm wave of heat washed over them, and Catty felt free as the sticky tendrils around her crumbled to ash.

The dragon snorted happily as the last of the spores burned out. Serafima broke free first, brushing charred remains from her sleeves and giving the dragon an approving, if slightly incredulous, look.

"Well," she said, eyeing him with newfound respect. "Seems you have a heroic streak after all."

Still shaking off the remnants of the cocoon, Catty gave the dragon a grateful grin, though her voice held a note of exasperation. "Couldn't you have done that about two minutes earlier?"

The dragon puffed out his chest, his wings giving a pleased little flutter as though he'd planned the entire thing. Catty reached out and looped the leash back over his neck, patting him with an affectionate chuckle.

"Guess I owe you one," she said, and the dragon gave her a smug, chirpy response before bounding ahead, eager to find his next adventure.

"Hold him!" Serafima exclaimed. "We have to leave this place!"

As soon as Catty and Serafima stumbled back through the door and slammed it shut, Catty dropped the leash, letting the dragon trot off with the air of someone who had just single-handedly saved the day.

"Well," Catty gasped, bracing her hands on her knees, "that was… vivid."

"Vivid?" Serafima brushed a few lingering spores from her sleeve. "I'd say it was somewhere between a landscape gone crazy and a test of survival skills."

"So, our next holiday destination?" Catty managed a wry smile.

Serafima gave her a look that suggested that humor was not on the agenda. "Did you notice the mushrooms?"

"Mushrooms?" Catty looked blankly at her. "Well, yes—hard to miss when they're exploding."

"Exactly," Serafima replied, her tone laced with grim satisfaction. "Every world we've seen so far has had mushrooms. Don't you think it's… a bit conspicuous?"

"Mushrooms?" Catty frowned. "Rutger's hints were never subtle, but why mushrooms? What's he got against them?"

"Because," Serafima said, crossing her arms, "he didn't like them. Loathed them, in fact. Once spent an entire summer trying to convince his neighbors that mushrooms were conspiring against his garden."

"So you think he… left them in as a warning?"

"Precisely. They're his mark—a signal. Mushrooms mean we're in the wrong place."

"So, we're looking for a mushroom-free world," Catty agreed. She chuckled, leaning back against the door, catching her breath. "Well, with our luck, it'll probably be a desert."

"Quite possibly," Serafima allowed herself a faint smile, "but in any case, it must be without mushrooms."

Catty sighed, her hands on her hips. "You know what? Let's pause for a bit. I could use a drink, and you look like you're on the brink of—what do they call it? 'Wizard burnout'?"

Serafima raised an eyebrow. "Not the worst idea you've had today," she nodded. "I'll be making my concoction if you don't mind."

Catty shrugged and poured herself a glass of her favorite glimberry juice. She sat down at the kitchen counter and watched, wide-eyed, as Serafima rummaged through various jars, flasks, and odd bottles.

"Wait, are you... really drinking that?" Catty asked as Serafima added a dash of powdered root to a murky liquid that could only be described as "questionable."

Serafima swirled the glass thoughtfully, watching as the contents shifted from green to a deep, iridescent purple.

"It's a rejuvenation tonic, Catty. It's supposed to look unpalatable—that's how you know it's effective."

"Right, because nothing says 'refreshing' more than something that looks like dish soap," Catty said, taking another sip of her juice and giving Serafima a look caught somewhere between disbelief and admiration.

Serafima raised her glass, observing its shimmer with something like satisfaction before taking a deliberate sip. A few seconds later, her eyes flashed with a sharp, energized glint.

"See? It works."

"Nope, I'll stick to something that doesn't look like it could turn me into a frog," the girl said mockingly.

Serafima smirked, holding up her glass. "Suit yourself. But don't come asking when you feel the need for a little more… vibrancy."

"I'll manage, thanks," Catty chuckled, feeling the tension of the day begins to ease.

She lifted her juice in a toast, adding, "To safe places, questionable drinks, and no more mushrooms."

After resting, they continued checking the worlds. Serafima took control of the lever. She steadied her hand on the table and glanced at Catty.

"We'll do a quick survey of the next worlds," she said, her tone brisk but confident, "just to check for… signs."

With a twist of the lever, the world outside the window was replaced with something different again.

They saw rows of towering stone shelves stretched indefinitely across an open landscape. Scrolls lay stacked on each level, with sheets of parchment fluttering occasionally, moved by an unseen breeze. Soft and elusive whispers filled the air, like the words of readers long gone, echoing from some distant past.

Catty leaned closer, her eyes alight with curiosity. "An open-air library? I'll give Rutger this—he had style."

She squinted, noticing a shimmer of dust in the air, which made the scrolls and shelves seem to blur at the edges as if the whole place were a memory just beginning to fade.

"Let's take a closer look," Serafima said, her voice low. She turned the table more, and the view outside the window wholly aligned with the library.

The sounds became more distinct. Whispers now came from the sky, carrying hints of ancient languages, so soft they were more felt than heard.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"Wonder how long this place has been abandoned?" Catty asked.

But Serafima wasn't looking at the stone shelves. Her gaze had settled on the ground, where a small cluster of mushrooms clung to a fallen roll of parchment as though feeding on its knowledge.

"There's our answer," Serafima said with a sigh, gesturing at the pale caps.

Catty followed her gaze, exhaling sharply, "What, even libraries aren't sacred to mushrooms?"

"Apparently, Rutger has other ideas," Serafima said, crossing her arms. "A shame. It's a rather intriguing place, but if we're to follow his signs, this world isn't for us."

"So much for hidden wisdom. Let's keep looking."

And they tried again. That's what they saw.

The world beyond the window was a sprawling marshland covered with tall reeds that swayed in a breeze. An enormous pyramid jutted up from the dark, murky water, and winged fish flitted in slow circles in the air above it. Yellow mushrooms sprouted around the pyramid basement, their bright tones clashing with the dark, surreal beauty.

The next world was a forest of metal trees, their trunks polished and reflective, their branches fashioned like gears and cogs. As the wind blew, the trees creaked and rattled like an old clock needing oil. Leaves of hammered copper waved, covered by mushrooms, their caps like rust on the metallic foliage.

The third world revealed a fortress that defied gravity and floated in the pink-hued sky among the clouds. Spiraling towers were connected by narrow bridges and stairways made of white mist. Waterfalls cascaded along the walls directly into the void below. As they looked closer, the water turned out to be a stream of mushrooms.

They also watched an endless desert, with dunes of shifting, fine sand under two stark suns. The sands rippled with the movement of strange round creatures that rolled from one burrow to the next. When the wind kicked up, gritty storms rushed through the barren landscape. In this world, mushrooms crouched in the shadow of a large dune, their presence as discordant as footprints in untouched sand.

And there were mushrooms, and mushrooms, and mushrooms again.

So, after hours of failure, Serafima finally said, "This is the last attempt for today," and turned the tables strongly.

Outside the window, the view was moving as if the world were gliding past. Gradually, familiar details of Eterna appeared—the cobbled street, the lampposts casting their familiar glow, and rows of old brick houses standing neatly along the way. Catty blinked, momentarily taken aback.

"Are we... back?" she asked, though her voice held more disbelief than relief.

Serafima looked over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the view outside. "It would seem so," she replied, though there was no satisfaction in her voice, only weariness.

"All this searching!.." Catty exclaimed passionately, "...just to end up back where we started?"

She pressed her forehead against the window glass, letting the familiar but frustrating sight sink in, disappointment settling heavily in her chest. It was as if all their efforts had led them right back to square one.

"Rutger never was one to make things easy," Serafima sighed.

They both stood at the window, silently grappling with the uneasy feeling that their search was nowhere near its end.

Suddenly, something unusual caught Catty's eye—a glint of light reflected from the house across the street. She frowned, narrowing her eyes. The sign on the building across from them was... The words on the shopfront were written back to front as though someone had applied a mirror filter—"tekraM nuaF."

Catty's heart skipped.

"Serafima," the girl called, her voice low and cautious. "Look at that sign. Does it seem off to you?"

Serafima's gaze followed Catty's pointing finger. She blinked, then stepped back, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

"Faun Market! Mirrored text…"

The familiar street, the familiar houses, the very air—it all screamed "home," but this was just a reflection. It felt like standing on the edge of a dream, where things might slip away at any moment.

"So, we're not back," Catty said, hope mingling with unease. "It just looks like Eterna."

"Guess we're not done yet," Serafima replied. "This is another world."

"Figures we're still caught in one of Rutger's games," the girl sighed, slumping against the window frame.

The faintest smile tugged at the corner of Serafima's mouth. "Let's see what's on the other side."

They both stepped away from the window, exchanging glances before moving cautiously toward the door, where the line between familiarity and strangeness remained as thin as a hair's breadth.

The street beyond felt almost identical to Eterna, but the differences became more apparent as they moved outside. A strange hush blanketed the air, an unnatural stillness that settled around them like mist. There was no distant hum of chatter, no footsteps echoing down the street, not even the faintest breeze to stir the leaves.

"It's like the street is holding its breath," Catty paused, scanning the row of familiar yet mirrored houses.

Serafima closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. Suddenly, her expression shifted, sharpening with recognition, "Here!"

"Do you smell that?" she asked, glancing at Catty.

Catty lifted her head, catching a strong, earthy scent of tar drifting through the stillness—a smell she couldn't quite place.

"Creosote," Serafima said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Rutger... He used to talk about it… It was a scent from his past."

"What makes it so special?"

"This smell is a sign that this is the right place," Serafima's gaze softened, touched with nostalgia. "For Rutger, creosote was part of his youth—of a life spent on the rails, back when he was just starting out as an apprentice in magic."

The woman paused, searching through her memories for the right way to explain it.

"When he was young," Serafima continued, a slight smile tugging at her lips, "Rutger worked on the railroad with his Spiritual Teacher. He used to tell me about those days. They'd lay tracks together, hour after hour, under the sun or rain, working with creosote-soaked sleepers to keep the wood strong. It was hard, honest work, and he'd always say his teacher could 'tame wild rails' with nothing more than his willpower and a bit of magic."

Catty raised an eyebrow, "Didn't think of Rutger as a railway man."

"Oh, he loved it. Said it taught him about magic in ways no spellbook ever could," Serafima chuckled softly. "His teacher wasn't just a track layer, you see. He hid his wisdom behind a life of simple work. Magic, he taught Rutger, didn't always have to be grand or flashy. Sometimes, it was just about making things last—like preserving sleepers with creosote so they'd hold firm, no matter the storms or trains that passed over them."

Catty listened, drawn in by the image of Rutger as a young man, learning these simple but profound lessons.

"The smell of creosote," Serafima closed her eyes as if to remember him, "was a reminder for him. A reminder of resilience, hidden strength, and the quiet power of things we overlook. It was also the smell of freedom. The railroad, for Rutger, was a way to see the world, to know there were paths and places he hadn't seen yet but could reach if he wanted to. The open rails gave him a sense of freedom, and the scent of creosote became a strange kind of comfort. Over time, it reminded him that real sanctuaries—safe, solid places—don't need to be grand. They can be simple, hidden in plain sight, like a stretch of rail that carries you miles and miles without asking for attention."

"So, that's why he chose it," Catty took another breath, the earthy scent filling her senses in a new way. "It's his way of saying this place is safe?"

"Yes," Serafima replied, her voice warm. "He wanted to make sure that anyone who came here with good intentions would feel protected. He was clever that way—using a scent only a few would understand as a kind of quiet signal, his own mark of safety."

"Who would've thought—Rutger, with a past like that," Catty smiled softly, looking around the street with a new respect.

Serafima nodded, "He knew the power of unseen paths. And he wanted us to find this one."

They stood there, taking in the quiet, earthy smell of creosote, knowing it was Rutger's word guiding them to the sanctuary he had carefully, quietly prepared.

After a moment of quiet, Serafima's gaze shifted to the buildings around them, and her eyes widened in surprise. She stepped forward and ran her fingers along the walls, the surface cool and strangely smooth under her touch.

"These walls…" she murmured, pressing a bit harder. The texture felt wrong—more like a painting than solid stone. "It's a stage set!"

"You mean... These aren't real walls?" Catty was confused.

Serafima nodded and slapped the wall with her palm. Then, together, they braced themselves and pushed the surface. It swayed, so they pressed harder, and finally, with a crash, they knocked the cardboard wall to the ground.

The wall fell down, revealing the true landscape beyond.

A vast meadow stretched out before them, bathed in gentle sunlight. Wild grasses swayed softly in a breeze that carried a fresh scent. Patches of delicate wildflowers were scattered among the grass—pale blues, soft yellows, and quiet pinks that bloomed effortlessly, untouched and free.

Catty stepped forward, feeling the soft earth beneath her feet, a welcome contrast to the rigid ground they walked before. She closed her eyes, letting the quiet sounds of the meadow wash over her: the hum of insects, the faint rustle of grasses, the distant song of a bird.

Serafima inhaled deeply, her face softening as she took in the simplicity and calm of the scene.

"This is it," she said quietly, her voice almost reverent. "The sanctuary."

They walked further into the meadow, each step easing away the tension. For the first time, the weight of their journey was replaced by a sense of genuine peace.

"So, all this time… we were just one step away from something like this," Catty smiled, glancing back at Serafima.

"Rutger knew what he was doing," Serafima nodded a smile of relief on her lips.

She looked out across the meadow, the wild beauty of the untouched landscape stretching far into the distance. "This place was waiting for us."

They stood side by side, the wild meadow stretching around them. The world had finally opened its arms, offering them a place to rest, to be safe, and—at last—to feel at home.

Catty took a deep, contented breath, a smile crossing her face as she glanced back at Serafima, but the moment was short-lived. Her eyes widened, and a sudden chill of realization crept in.

"Wait... where's the dragon?" the girl exclaimed, her shout cutting through the quiet, peaceful air.