The next morning, I woke to find the lighthouse unusually quiet. Jack would typically check the lighthouse equipment at dawn, and the sound of his footsteps and lamp adjustments often formed the background noise of my mornings. But today, only the sound of waves crashing against rocks came from the distance.
I went downstairs and found a note on the kitchen table: 'Gone to town to get some parts, will be back before noon. Coffee is on the stove, make yourself at home. —Jack'
With time to myself, I decided to review the materials we had organised last night, hoping to find clues we might have overlooked. Time was becoming increasingly pressing, with only four days left until 21st September.
I returned to our research desk and began systematically sorting through the files. As I moved a stack of old charts, I accidentally knocked over one of Jack's small drawer cabinets. Several notebooks fell to the floor, and one opened page caught my attention.
This wasn't among the notes we had been researching together, but rather a more personal-looking diary. The date on the page was from earlier this year, 15th January, long before I came to this era. I knew it wasn't right to read his private notes, but when I inadvertently glimpsed the words 'foreseen' and 'Ella,' I couldn't control my curiosity.
I carefully picked up the notebook and sat down in the window light to read:
'15th January 1925 — Another dream. Clearer this time. I saw the lighthouse accident, just like before, but this time I saw her—the woman, standing at the top of the lighthouse, holding a pocket watch identical to mine. She called me by name, as if we were old friends. In the dream, I knew her name was Ella. The strangest thing is, I felt no fear, but rather an odd sense of calm, as if finally understanding a puzzle that had long troubled me. If these dreams truly are visions, then who is Ella? What is her connection to the lighthouse accident? More importantly, why do I feel her appearance isn't a threat, but some kind of hope?'
I turned to the next page, my heart racing:
'30th March — The Prophet on the beach appeared again. This time he brought a clear message: "She will come across time and space, with the watch, seeking answers. She is both the hope of life and the messenger of death. When the two timelines intersect, only one person can cross." When I asked who "she" was, he just smiled, drew a circle with a line through it in the sand, and disappeared into the fog. I'm increasingly certain that the "she" in the prophecy is Ella from my dreams.'
I continued reading, discovering that Jack had recorded more dreams and premonitions about me, even preparing for my arrival months before I arrived. But what shocked me most was a page from a few weeks ago:
'8th September — Today's storm was unusually strong, the lighthouse almost shaking in the wind. At midnight, I felt a strange dizziness, and then I saw it—a blue light appeared at the top of the lighthouse, with a figure collapsed on the floor. I went to investigate and found a strange woman, wearing unusual clothing, with a pocket watch similar to mine hanging around her neck. I knew she was Ella from my dreams, the fulfilment of the time fracture prophecy. Now I face the most difficult choice: tell her the whole truth, or conceal my foreknowledge? If I tell her I've foreseen her arrival, and possibly even our ending, would it change her actions and choices? More terrifying, if she knows I may already be aware of my fate, of what might happen on 21st September, would she try to prevent it, thereby breaking the cycle of time that should be?'
'According to my research, time seems to have a self-correcting ability. Attempts to change predetermined major events usually result in their realisation through other means. If Ella tries to save me, she might pay a greater price—possibly her own safety, or worse, the stability of both timeframes. I can't risk that. For her safety, for the integrity of time, I will keep this secret. I will guide her to understand the time fracture, understand the guardian's responsibility, but I won't tell her I've already accepted my possible fate.'
My hands trembled slightly, almost unable to continue turning pages. Jack had known from the first day that I would come, who I was, and even possibly that feelings would develop between us. And he chose to conceal all this, letting me discover and learn naturally, as if everything were an accident rather than arranged by fate.
The last page was dated yesterday, obviously written after we had established the rules of crossing:
'17th September — Ella is smarter and stronger than I imagined. She quickly grasped the rules of the time fracture, even offering insights I'd never considered. We've confirmed that 21st September is the critical point, and also her only chance to return to the future. What I haven't told her is that, according to my calculations and dreams, the lighthouse accident is inevitable—it's part of the time fracture cycle. My "disappearance" may be the necessary price for maintaining the completeness of the time cycle.'
'The hardest part is hiding my growing feelings for her. In my initial dreams, I only felt some connection to her, but now, after truly knowing her, that connection has deepened into something more. Knowing there's an unbridgeable gulf of time and space between us, knowing we may only have days together, yet still being unable to stop these feelings from growing—what a cruel irony. But if sacrificing my existence or our feelings can protect her, protect the integrity of time, then I am willing to pay that price.'
I closed the notebook, feeling moisture in my eyes. Jack had always known, always foreseen, yet chose to bear it all while trying to protect me from the burden of this knowledge. He feared I would try to change fate, risking disruption of the time cycle.
Outside, sunlight shone on the calm sea, a scene so peaceful in stark contrast to the turbulence within me. My thoughts were as chaotic as a storm—anger at being kept in the dark, heartache over Jack's possible fate, fear of the approaching 21st September, and a deep conflict about whether to respect Jack's choice and accept potential fate, or try to change everything regardless of the cost.
I heard footsteps in the distance—Jack was returning. I quickly put the notebook back in its place, wiped away my tears, and tried to compose myself. I decided not to tell him yet that I had discovered his secret notes. I needed time to think, to find answers for myself.
If Jack was right, if time truly had a self-correcting ability, if attempts to change predetermined events only led to their realisation through other means, were we truly prisoners of fate? Or was the true responsibility of a Time Guardian not to blindly accept fate, but to find a way to protect both the integrity of time and the people we love?
Jack entered, smiling, holding several small components. 'Final adjustments for the time tracker,' he explained, then noticed my expression, 'Has something happened? You look... troubled.'
'Just thinking about 21st September,' I answered, trying to hide my true emotions, 'We still have many unresolved questions.'
Jack nodded, set down the components, and came to my side. 'We'll find the answers together,' he said gently, taking my hand.
I held his hand in return, filled with new determination. Whatever Jack had written in his secret notes, however certain he was of his fate, I would not easily accept it. If I truly was a Time Guardian, if I truly had been chosen to solve the problem of the time fracture, then I believed there must be a way to both maintain the integrity of time and protect Jack—protect our future, wherever in time it might be.
And the key to finding this way might well be hidden in Jack's research, in his notes about time's self-correcting ability. I needed to understand more deeply, to find the loopholes left by fate, to find a way to change everything in the days ahead.