“I heard from Granny that your father, Mr. Bill, wasn’t always mute—that his tongue was cut off. And she said it was my aunt who suggested it,” I began carefully, pausing to rub the edge of my cup. “Granny said it was for the best, but it’s hard not to feel doubtful.”
I glanced at Charlie, who was staring out into the courtyard, his expression unreadable. Gathering my courage, I pressed on. “I’m sorry for what happened, and I apologize if I’m coming off too direct, but I need answers.” My voice was steady, but my heart raced.
I took a deep breath before continuing. “It’s been two or three days since I received those strange messages from my aunt. She wasn’t clear, and now I can’t shake the feeling that she’s in trouble. I want to help her, but I need to understand what’s going on first. Please, Charlie—knowing what happened might help me piece together her plans.”
I looked him in the eye, firm in my resolve. “I need to know if my aunt is someone I can trust—or if she’s done something terrible. I just want to figure out how I can help, even if it’s not much. I have to do something.”
Charlie stayed quiet for a moment, his gaze distant. Sky, the ever-watchful cat, hopped up beside him, as if sensing the tension and silently urging him to speak. Charlie absentmindedly scratched Sky’s head, took a sip from his cup, then picked up a biscuit, nibbling on it before sipping his tea again.
Finally, he broke the silence. “I saw your aunt once, back when I was just a kid,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with sadness. He paused, a faint, melancholic smile crossing his face.
“I don’t think you’re too familiar with building rapport before diving into heavy stuff, Aria,” he said, teasing lightly but not unkindly. “But I get it. You’re anxious, and honestly, I would be too if I were in your shoes.”
He leaned back slightly, exhaling deeply. “I think it’s best if I start by explaining what this island is really about and how things work here. Then, I’ll tell you what happened to my pops and how I lost my mom.”
A chill ran down my spine at his words, and I suddenly felt the weight of what I was about to hear. Goosebumps prickled my skin as an uneasy silence settled between us. I glanced at my wristwatch—it was just after 3:15 PM. Something told me this would be a conversation I wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
Charlie sighed and tilted his head back, gazing at the clear blue sky before turning to me. “Hey, how many layers does the Earth have?” he asked, his tone calm but deliberate.
I blinked at him, caught off guard. “Charlie, are you serious right now? We’re talking about science now?” I raised an eyebrow, a small, incredulous smile playing on my lips.
“But I am serious, Aria,” he replied evenly, his expression unwavering.
“Alright,” I said, indulging him with a shrug. “Um... three? No, wait—four. What does this have to do with the island?”
He leaned forward slightly, meeting my gaze, and for a second, I got distracted. I know I said it before, but his eyelashes were captivatingly long and dark, almost giving the impression he was wearing eyeliner—but no, it was completely natural. That might explain why he gave off such a pirate-like vibe.
“You’re right—four layers. The crust, mantle, outer core, and inner core,” he said, picking up another biscuit. He took a bite, then set his cup aside, shifting slightly so he could lean on his left arm for support.
“Well,” he continued, “imagine those layers as layers of the island. But instead of layers, we call them zones.”
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I watched, using his right hand, he pointed upward and began drawing circles in the air as he explained.
“The crust—the outermost layer of Earth—is what we call the Neutral Zone of the island. That’s where we are now. The mantle, the layer beneath the crust, corresponds to Zone 1. You’ll know you’ve crossed into another zone when you see a clearly marked red boundary line.”
He paused, glancing at me to make sure I was following.
“The outer core is Zone 2,” he said, his tone lowering slightly. “And at the very center lies the inner core, what we call the Playground. Just like Earth’s inner core, it’s at the heart of this island.”
“The Playground?” I echoed, my voice quieter than I intended.
No description available. [https://scontent.fcrk2-3.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/462564084_1352506135739408_8121848216585357622_n.jpg?_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=9f807c&_nc_eui2=AeHWeXTwdGzSFHr_DakU-xY7lFHpBegE-IaUUekF6AT4hjX6Bw11Vc1UMUNtNeNHe7AFr1P3gpyjkRfQ5K-lFY4J&_nc_ohc=Kq9KzUWe25wQ7kNvgEyOnXK&_nc_zt=23&_nc_ht=scontent.fcrk2-3.fna&oh=03_Q7cD1gEd_RWTCbGIlmDkylmEDwkvOQnl5DH3WrthRodKmvEpgQ&oe=678B31C5]
He withdrew his hand from the air, letting it fall to his side, and the silence between us grew heavy. He took a slow sip of his tea before speaking, his voice tinged with something I couldn’t quite place—regret, maybe, or longing.
“My mom,” he began, his voice softer now, “she was the adventurous type—fierce, courageous, and curious. Always ready for anything.” He paused, a faint, almost wistful smile crossing his face. “That was before she fell in love with my pops.”
I watched as his expression softened further. “She was from the Neutral Zone, and my pops... he was from Zone 2. The distance between zones is a bit further from each other—on purpose. It’s meant to prevent people from different zones from meeting or interacting.”
“What?” I blurted out, unable to keep my emotions in check. “Why? Is it forbidden to visit other zones?”
Charlie nodded slightly. “Yes. Unless you’re a Character,” he said, his answer short and matter-of-fact.
I frowned, frustrated at how little that explained. “A Character? What do you mean? You mentioned that when you introduced yourself earlier, and honestly, I didn’t understand it then either.”
Charlie leaned back slightly, resting his weight on his hands. “Characters are people like me—assigned specific roles or responsibilities. We’re different from regular residents.”
His explanation still left too many gaps for me. “Okay... but what exactly is your role or responsibility?” I pressed, determined to understand.
Charlie shifted in his seat and, to my surprise, began tugging at the hem of his shirt. My immediate reaction was, “Whoa, dude, what are you doing? No matter how attractive you are, I don’t swing like that!”
Charlie burst out laughing, his deep chuckle echoing through the courtyard. “You’re funny, Aria. That’s good—you make things lighter. Relax, as I said, I don’t bite.” He flashed me a playful smile, adding, “And hey, thanks for finding me attractive.”
I froze, feeling my cheeks heat up. “That’s not—” I stammered, trying to recover. “I didn’t mean it like that!”
He grinned even wider, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say, city girl.”
I huffed, crossing my arms, determined not to let him get to me. “Just do what you needed to do.”
Still chuckling, Charlie obliged, tugging his shirt off completely to reveal the ink etched across the center of his chest, just below his collarbones.
Out of courtesy, I quickly averted my eyes, clearing my throat and fixing my gaze straight ahead.
“Hey, Aria, it’s okay. I’m just trying to show you my tattoo,” Charlie said, smiling gently. His tone was more serious now, but there was still a lightness to it that eased the awkwardness.
I hesitated before turning back, trying to sound nonchalant. “Alright, but just so we’re clear, I’m only looking because I want to see the tattoo—not for any other reason. Got that?”
Charlie flashed a wide grin. “Yeah, I got you.” There was something about his tone that made me blush again, though I tried not to dwell on it.
Focusing on the tattoo, I leaned in slightly to get a better look. It was intricate, cool, and undeniably unique. A design resembling a compass.
“What does that tattoo mean? Is it a compass?” I asked, my tone filled with curiosity and uncertainty.
Charlie smirked, clearly entertained by my question. “That’s the thing—it’s not actually a compass. Look closer,” he said, leaning back slightly as if inviting me to inspect it further.
I squinted, examining the tattoo more carefully. He was right—it wasn’t a traditional compass. The markings resembled directional points but had subtle, meaningful differences. At the top, there was an N, with Z1 where east would usually be, L at the bottom, and Z2 where west should have been. In the center sat a bold P. Above the N was a small asterisk, almost unnoticeable but deliberately placed and a crescent moon behind the P.
I frowned, piecing the details together. “The letters—they’re the zones, aren’t they?” I asked. My eyes flicked back to the asterisk, still puzzled. “But what about this? What’s the asterisk supposed to mean?”
“What does an asterisk look like to you, Aria?” Charlie asked, his voice playful yet challenging, like he was testing my interpretation. I thought for a moment before answering. “It looks like… a star?”
“That’s right,” Charlie said, nodding. “And what do stars usually do? Especially for travelers like you?”
I caught onto the hint, the answer clicking in my mind. “Stars guide people. They show direction,” I replied, my voice steady.
“Exactly,” Charlie said with a satisfied smile. “When visitors arrive, I’m the one who guides them through the Neutral Zone. That’s why the asterisk marks the ‘N’—it represents my role,” he explained.
Open photo [https://scontent.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/462560514_1788978475219883_7980143923107940437_n.png?stp=dst-png_p480x480&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=0024fc&_nc_eui2=AeFmMoWX1dQnfJDmwA5rZXy2z_MqInOgKEfP8yoic6AoR1qPhLRlPbXeq-nx3lkjFUxtEZyONgfhzi4pnfjMt3j5&_nc_ohc=drMO0_JLOh8Q7kNvgH1oG5w&_nc_ad=z-m&_nc_cid=0&_nc_zt=23&_nc_ht=scontent.xx&oh=03_Q7cD1gFcdA0WxL-NhdxHizr1m_uYbX1yk4bmVs63LzYWRxs83w&oe=678B3C59]