Torn between reason, common sense, and the absurd stories of an alleged fool, Salome stood in the narrow, gloomy side alley the next morning, before the first dim rays of light touched the horizon. She had slipped away from home as inconspicuously as possible—which was hardly a challenge when no one was around anyway. Originally, she had planned to leave a message to explain her absence, but in the end she decided against it. Salome did not expect anyone to look for her so soon. Besides, she hoped to be back before anyone even noticed she was gone.

Not knowing what lay ahead, she had gathered her “gear” and was now wearing a good, sturdy pair of trousers instead of her usual neat skirt, along with a dark shirt, a long‑sleeved vest of warm wool, and her best boots, which were fit for long marches even through difficult terrain. Her hair was braided into a simple plait. She had also brought her leather backpack, which she had stuffed to the brim with useful items and provisions for one or two days. Since it wasn’t raining at the moment, she had rolled up her oilcloth coat and strapped it securely on top of her backpack.

Now she sat on the steps of the small staircase, impatiently waiting for Van. She had promised to help him, yet inwardly she already cursed herself for making that offer. If only she could finally keep her curiosity in check… She had spent the whole night tossing and turning, agonizing over her situation until she was convinced she was now in an even bigger mess than before.

With a groan, she buried her face in her hands. She had no idea what that madman was up to, or how he planned to return to his imaginary home above the clouds. Why did he insist so strongly that this place existed? It was simply ridiculous.

At that moment, Van rounded the corner, almost at the same time as the first feeble glimmer transformed the darkness of night into the gloom of morning. A dark crust covered parts of his clothes, as if he had rolled in wet mud several times, and along with the dirt and leaves in his hair now also clung small twigs and pieces of tree bark. What, by the pillars, had he been doing all night? At least it hadn’t rained since yesterday, so his clothing looked fairly dry.

“You really did come,” he said. “I thought you just wanted to get rid of me.”

“What? Uh…” she stammered. Awkwardly trying to change the topic, she pointed at his clothes. “What happened to you?”

“Oh, that… don’t worry about it,” he replied, patting dried earth off his sleeves. “I was in the forest again yesterday. Looking for something.”

“And did you find it?”

“Yep. Took quite a while though.” He reached into the collar of his shirt and produced a small pendant, attached to a simple necklace with fine silver chain links. It was a compass, as far as Salome could tell. A beautifully crafted one, adorned with gold and silver, whose needle spun wildly in circles as if it were broken. But Van quickly hid the trinket back in his shirt before she could take a closer look.

“There’s no way I’m leaving this place without this. It hung on a branch in plain sight, can you imagine? Just had a little bit of a hard time getting up there.” He brushed off some more dirt.

“So then, let’s get going!” he suddenly declared, full of enthusiasm, spinning around on the spot. Then he walked cheerfully along the alley without caring whether Salome followed him or not. For a brief moment, she considered just running away and hoping he would forget about her. But deep down she knew that this was not what she wanted. So, gripping the strap of her backpack tighter, she ran after the strange boy.

They avoided the wide main road and left the village on a narrow, beaten path that wound its way down to the center of the valley. At that hour, hardly anyone was out—at most a few farmers preparing for work in the fields. The area around the village consisted mainly of grain fields and some pastures for livestock, all enclosed by low walls made of stones stacked on top of each other. The farmers were meticulous about every hand’s breadth of land they owned, for no one liked to share their property with others. In between, scattered barns dotted the landscape. It quickly grew brighter, and soon in the distance one could see a few of the slowly rattling carts of coachmen, making their way along the large country road by the river to the city.

“It’s pretty cold today,” said Van, pulling his coat tighter around himself. “At least there’s no wind, or else we’d freeze our butts off. Is it always this cold here?”

“It’s not really that cold,” Salome replied. “And what is a wind?”

Van suddenly stopped. He looked at her as if she had claimed she could fly.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“What’s… wrong?” she asked, uncertainly.

“You must be joking,” said Van. “You really don’t know what wind is? Wait—does that mean…?” He looked around in every direction, even at the sky, and then, for some reason, put his finger in his mouth and held it up.

Salome had no idea what he was talking about. Strangely, the absence of this wind seemed to affect him greatly.

“So what is a wind then?” she asked again.

“Well, you know,” said Van, struggling for words, “that breeze, that… invisible stream that flows through the air! By the pillars, how am I supposed to explain what wind is?”

An invisible stream, then. Salome did not ask further. That must have been one of his wild fantasies, and she really did not want to know more about it.

“So there is no wind in Fundament,” Van stated in disbelief, shaking his head slowly, as if dazed. “I was wondering why it’s been so windless all this time! Simply unbelievable. This world is so different from everything I’ve ever seen. And I’ve been around a lot, I tell you.” He looked up at the roiling clouds and murmured to himself, “Does that mean there are no storms here either…?”

Salome gave him a confused sideways glance, but – with some effort – she decided not to pursue the matter further. Who knew what twisted ideas might be haunting the mind of a madman?

They soon reached the large country road and followed it westward, down the valley, letting the scattered farmsteads flow by slowly. Occasionally, they passed small flocks of sheep that bleated at them listlessly. Now and then, the melancholic tinkling of large cowbells echoed over the fields. Far ahead, hidden by a low mountain ridge, lay the city whose furnaces polluted the air and darkened the already weak daylight with columns of black smoke.

A cart pulled by a pair of horses slowly approached. From here, Salome could already hear the grumpy cursing and swearing of the coachman as he rumbled over one of the countless potholes, that, thanks to the frequent rains, were difficult to repair. They gave way to him, and as he passed by, the old man with the leathery face eyed them suspiciously. Van looked up with a dumb grin, while Salome kept her head down and avoided his gaze.

“I’ve never seen such a grumpy old codger!” Van laughed as the man was a good distance away. “Practically smelled of bad mood!”

Salome didn’t know what he found so funny. She was just glad that the old man was headed for the city and not her village, where he might have mentioned her during a visit to the tavern. Those people loved to gossip, and if one wanted to avoid unnecessary rumors, one should steer clear of them.

As they walked on, Salome asked, “Tell me, where exactly are you going? If I’m supposed to help, you at least got to tell me what you’re planning.”

“Well,” said Van, “to be honest, I have no idea how I’m going to get back home. Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that! I don’t even know exactly how I ended up in Fundament!” Van awkwardly averted Salome’s reproachful look. “But that’s why I thought maybe we could find a clue there.” He pointed northwest, toward the next world pillar.

Salome’s eyes widened in shock. “What? But we’re not allowed to go there!”

“Aw, come on. What could possibly happen?” said Van with a shrug. “We’re just going to take a look. Besides, I can’t wait to visit the foot of a world pillar. I’ve always dreamed of that.”

“But it is said that great misfortune befalls those who enter the forbidden zone!”

Van laughed merrily. “Where did you hear that? Don’t worry, nothing’s gonna happen to us.”

Salome was anything but convinced. But turning back now was pointless. If it meant she could be rid of Van, she would even go as far as getting close to the world pillar! Surprisingly, she felt a surge of excitement well up within her. The pillars were a part of her world, just like the mountains and forests—ordinary things that one overlooked unless one consciously paid attention. But it hadn’t always been that way. Salome could still vividly remember how, as a child, she always watched the pillars from afar. Of course she knew the stories told in the village—stories of children who played too close to a pillar and disappeared forever, or of dark figures and evil creatures that lurked there and hunted people. But all that talk, all the whispers, the prohibitions and warnings had been like fuel that ignited the imagination of her young mind and gave those towering structures an aura of danger and mystery, so that back then they appeared to her like black towers entwined with mist jutting out from the landscape. It was a childlike curiosity—a thrill for the forbidden—that only reemerged in the following years of her life. The idea of breaking the rule now made that old curiosity flare up in her.

They soon approached a wooden bridge that spanned the river—a practical structure that floated on the water and could be pushed aside by boats using long poles when they needed to pass. Van walked merrily over the planks, which swayed slightly in the water, and even jumped around briefly, causing a gurgling sound in the gentle current.

Across the fields on the other bank, the network of unpaved country roads continued, just wide enough for plows pulled by mules. They followed these paths to the foot of the low mountain range on the far side of the valley, having to avoid the muddy ruts along the way. Then they hiked uphill across wet meadows with knee‑high grass until they reached the edge of the forest. Van trudged straight between the crooked tree trunks into the undergrowth, but Salome stopped and, somewhat surprised, examined the dark, gnarled bark right before her eyes.

She turned around and let her gaze wander over the landscape. It was strange how quickly they had crossed the valley. They had hardly hurried, yet barely two hours had passed since they set out. In the end, the valley was nothing more than a narrow, insignificant crack in the land. It felt odd to view the fields and river from the other side after so long. She could see her village—small and insignificant—just a part of an equally small and unimportant world. And she would spend her whole life there.

“Come on!” Van called from somewhere in the forest ahead of her. Shaking her head, she turned away from the view and followed him.