After discovering the secrets of the locked room, I needed time to think alone. Early the next morning, whilst Jack was busy with routine lighthouse maintenance, I walked to the beach by myself.
The weather was clear but cool, the sea breeze brushing my cheeks, bringing a salty taste. Sunlight danced on the sea surface, forming countless golden fragments. I strolled along the coastline, trying to sort out my thoughts and feelings.
Jack had always known someone with the matching pocket watch would appear, and had possibly foreseen his own fate, yet chose to remain at the lighthouse. This sense of duty was admirable, but also left me confused and concerned. If history was destined to repeat itself, could we really change anything?
I walked far, away from the town centre and out of sight of the lighthouse. This stretch of beach was more desolate, covered with oddly shaped rocks and driftwood. Just as I was about to turn back, a figure caught my attention.
An old man sat on a protruding rock, gazing at the distant sea. He wore a faded blue coat, his long grey beard swaying gently in the wind. Most striking was the object in his hand—a small sextant that looked remarkably similar to the 'time locator' in Jack's room.
I hesitated, but curiosity ultimately overcame caution. 'Good morning,' I greeted him.
The old man slowly turned his head, studying me with disconcertingly clear eyes. That gaze seemed to pierce through time itself, seeing the essence of my soul.
'Ella Morrison,' he said in a strange cadence, neither as a question nor in surprise, but as if confirming a fact he already knew, 'Traveller of time.'
I stepped back in shock, glancing warily around. 'How do you know my name?'
The old man smiled slightly, revealing uneven teeth. 'The tides bring more than water and sand; sometimes they bring fragments of knowledge.' He patted the rock beside him, indicating for me to sit down, 'I've been waiting for you for a long time.'
Despite my reservations, I sat beside him, drawn to this mysterious figure. 'Who are you?'
'Names are just labels, long forgotten by me,' he answered vaguely, 'The townspeople call me the "Crazy Old Man" or the "Prophet on the Beach." I prefer the latter, though neither is incorrect.'
He raised the sextant to the sky, as if measuring some invisible angle. 'You've discovered the secret of the watches, haven't you? Two watches, two times, two souls.'
My heart raced. 'You know about the watches?'
'I know many things,' he said mysteriously, 'Some that have happened, some that will happen, and some that may never happen. Time is not a line, but a web.'
'Are you a time traveller too?' I asked directly.
The old man emitted a raspy laugh. 'No, not like you. I am merely... an observer. Every hundred years, when the time fracture expands, I appear here to record what happens.'
'You've lived for hundreds of years?' I asked incredulously.
'Again, a question of time,' he sighed, 'For me, it all happens almost simultaneously. Past, present, future—all are illusions.'
I felt dizzy; these concepts were too abstract, almost incomprehensible. But I needed concrete information, not philosophical musings.
'Please tell me,' I pleaded, 'How do I use the watch? How do I repair the time fracture? How do I save Jack from his fate?'
The old man's expression grew serious. 'Some questions are more important than answers, Ella Morrison. But I can give you three truths and one warning.'
He put down the sextant and drew a perfect circle in the sand. 'First truth: The lighthouse light will go out twice, but can only be relit once.'
He then drew a straight line through the circle, dividing it in half. 'Second truth: Surface choices are often false. The real choice lies deeper.'
Finally, he drew a small dot in the centre of the circle. 'Third truth: The watch will not take you home, but to where you belong. These may not be the same place.'
His words were like riddles, leaving me both confused and uneasy. 'What do these mean?'
'When the time comes, you will understand,' he answered, then looked up at me, his gaze becoming unusually clear, 'Now, for the warning: On 21st September, when the two timelines intersect, the price of changing destiny will be heavy. You must be prepared to lose what you think matters most.'
A cold wind suddenly swept across the beach, whipping up sand, blurring my vision. When it subsided, I was surprised to find the old man had vanished, leaving only the circular pattern in the sand and the empty rock.
I looked around but saw no departing footprints. It was as if he had never existed or had melted into the air itself.
I crouched down to examine the pattern in the sand. Just as I reached out to touch it, a wave surged up the shore, completely erasing the pattern. I stood up, feeling a strange sense of loss, as if I had missed some important information.
On my way back to the lighthouse, I kept reflecting on the prophet's predictions and warnings. The lighthouse light will go out twice, surface choices are false, the watch will take me where I belong, and the price of changing destiny will be heavy. These words echoed in my mind, their implied meanings both confusing and troubling.
When the lighthouse came back into view, I saw Jack standing on the top platform, seemingly looking in my direction. His silhouette appeared particularly solitary yet resolute in the sunlight, as if he had become one with the building.
I suddenly realised that, regardless of how mysterious the old man's prophecies were, one thing was certain—my fate and Jack's were tightly interwoven, and the choices ahead would determine not just our future, but potentially affect the balance of two timelines.
Upon returning to the lighthouse, Jack noticed something unusual in my expression. 'Did something happen?' he asked with concern.
I hesitated, unsure whether I should share my encounter. 'I met a strange old man on the beach,' I finally said, 'He seemed to know about me, about the time fracture.'
Jack's expression turned serious. 'Describe what he looked like.'
After I described the old man's appearance and the sextant he carried, Jack's face grew pale. 'The Prophet on the Beach,' he said softly, 'A mysterious figure who appears during each peak of time fracture activity. Both my grandfather and great-grandfather mentioned him in their journals.'
'Who is he?' I asked urgently.
'No one really knows,' Jack shook his head, 'Some say he was the first lighthouse keeper, trapped in some kind of time loop by the fracture. Others say he isn't human at all, but some manifestation of time itself.' He paused, 'What did he tell you?'
I repeated the old man's three truths and one warning, carefully observing Jack's reaction. His expression changed from confusion to seriousness, and finally to a strange acceptance.
'The lighthouse light will go out twice,' he repeated thoughtfully, 'This could refer to the physical lighthouse lamp, or it might be symbolic. Either way, it seems to confirm that 21st September will be the crucial moment.'
'Do you really believe these prophecies?' I asked, with a hint of scepticism in my voice. Despite having experienced time travel firsthand, my scientific mind still harboured reservations about prophecies and destiny.
'In all my years of research,' Jack said solemnly, 'I've found that the Prophet's words never directly state facts, but they always come true in some way.' He picked up a notebook and turned to a particular page, 'In the 1826 prophecy recorded by my great-grandfather, it mentioned that "a hundred years later, the wound in time will open again." Looking at it now, this clearly refers to what we're experiencing.'
We fell into contemplation, each pondering the meaning of the prophecies. Outside the window, fog began to gather over the sea, forming strange patterns in the sunlight, like some invisible force weaving a web of destiny.
'Eight days left,' Jack broke the silence, determination in his voice, 'Whatever the prophecies say, we must be prepared.'
I nodded, feeling both fear of the unknown and courage to face the challenge. The Prophet's warning echoed in my mind: the price of changing destiny will be heavy. I didn't know what this meant, but I knew that for the stability of both timelines, for Jack's safety, I was willing to bear this price, no matter how heavy it might be.