Magic Pot in the Cave of Priceless - Chapter 2: Chapter 2
You are reading Magic Pot in the Cave of Priceless, Chapter 2: Chapter 2. Read more chapters of Magic Pot in the Cave of Priceless.
That night, the wind howled louder than usual, tugging at shutters and whispering through cracks in the walls. Timo lay awake, the piece of the map tucked safely under his pillow. He couldn’t sleep—not with the thought of a real adventure burning in his chest.
Downstairs, Grandmother Leya sat alone by the fire, her fingers tracing the edges of the worn parchment again and again. Her face was thoughtful, lined with worry and wonder.
Timo tiptoed down the stairs, his heart thudding.
“Grandmother?” he whispered.
She looked up, and for a moment, she didn’t speak. Her eyes, old and knowing, searched his face like she was trying to decide whether he was ready.
“You’re not the first one to find a piece of the map,” she said softly.
Timo blinked. “I’m not?”
She shook her head. “No. When I was your age, I found one, too.”
Timo’s mouth fell open. “You went to the cave?”
“I tried,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath. “But I turned back. The path was too wild, the riddles too strange. And... I wasn’t ready to face what it asked of me.”
She reached behind the hearth and pulled out a small wooden box. Inside was a faded ribbon, a smooth stone shaped like a heart, and something that made Timo’s breath catch—another piece of the same map.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
“Because the cave doesn’t call everyone,” she said. “Only the ones who need to find something inside themselves.”
Timo looked at the map pieces, now side by side. They fit perfectly. The path, once broken, now curved clearly into the mountains.
“There’s one more piece,” Grandmother Leya said. “Hidden in the forest. Guarded by something old and clever.”
Timo leaned closer. “Guarded by what?”
She hesitated, then answered: “By the Riddle Fox. It only appears when the moon is full—and only to those who don’t wish for gold, but for answers.”
Timo’s eyes sparkled.
“I want answers,” he whispered.
Grandmother Leya gave a tired smile. “Then you must go before dawn. Take the map, but take your heart too. The cave gives only what it finds within you.”
She wrapped the ribbon from the box around his wrist. “For courage,” she said. “And a reminder of who you are.”
As the fire crackled low and the wind grew quiet, Timo knew: this wasn’t just a story anymore.
It was his journey now.
And the cave was waiting.
Downstairs, Grandmother Leya sat alone by the fire, her fingers tracing the edges of the worn parchment again and again. Her face was thoughtful, lined with worry and wonder.
Timo tiptoed down the stairs, his heart thudding.
“Grandmother?” he whispered.
She looked up, and for a moment, she didn’t speak. Her eyes, old and knowing, searched his face like she was trying to decide whether he was ready.
“You’re not the first one to find a piece of the map,” she said softly.
Timo blinked. “I’m not?”
She shook her head. “No. When I was your age, I found one, too.”
Timo’s mouth fell open. “You went to the cave?”
“I tried,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath. “But I turned back. The path was too wild, the riddles too strange. And... I wasn’t ready to face what it asked of me.”
She reached behind the hearth and pulled out a small wooden box. Inside was a faded ribbon, a smooth stone shaped like a heart, and something that made Timo’s breath catch—another piece of the same map.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
“Because the cave doesn’t call everyone,” she said. “Only the ones who need to find something inside themselves.”
Timo looked at the map pieces, now side by side. They fit perfectly. The path, once broken, now curved clearly into the mountains.
“There’s one more piece,” Grandmother Leya said. “Hidden in the forest. Guarded by something old and clever.”
Timo leaned closer. “Guarded by what?”
She hesitated, then answered: “By the Riddle Fox. It only appears when the moon is full—and only to those who don’t wish for gold, but for answers.”
Timo’s eyes sparkled.
“I want answers,” he whispered.
Grandmother Leya gave a tired smile. “Then you must go before dawn. Take the map, but take your heart too. The cave gives only what it finds within you.”
She wrapped the ribbon from the box around his wrist. “For courage,” she said. “And a reminder of who you are.”
As the fire crackled low and the wind grew quiet, Timo knew: this wasn’t just a story anymore.
It was his journey now.
And the cave was waiting.
End of Magic Pot in the Cave of Priceless Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to Magic Pot in the Cave of Priceless book page.